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earthlyemily · 4 years ago

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I’m struggling so much financially and honestly just wanted to vent somewhere. I’ve always lived in poverty and I think in my whole life I’ve had maybe 2 years where I didn’t have to stress about money and not be able to buy groceries or pay rent or be put into collections for not being able to make payments etc and that was when I was in college. For at least the past 5 years I’ve been struggling but I never talk about it. I don’t even know where to start haha I don’t even know what it’s like to not stress financially and be in debt. I’ll just start with the first things that come to mind with what I’m owing maybe. So it’s Dec. 23 and rent was due yesterday because we moved into this small suite attached to someone’s house on Nov. 22. It’s $1200 which is so expensive, but also the average price for BC if not even cheaper for a one-bedroom with a yard, utilities included. and no first and last, no pet deposits, etc because this is just short them for 4 months until the end of March because i reached out and asked and they said yes.

After 1 month I already remember why we went into the trailer almost 2 years ago and it’s literally because we can’t afford any other lifestyle. I think that’s the difference between us and some people that live in trailers, vans, etc. like we lived in a mouse & mouse shit infested trailer for 6 months breathing in their feces and urine and having it all over all our belongings. i literally had to take my whole life to the dump and we officially have no food storage because they ruined it all. there were at least 50-60 mice because a few birth cycles happened in the ceiling. I could write a whole post about my experience of living with field mice, but now isn’t the time so for rent, i only had $600 yesterday so that’s what I gave them. thank goodness they were okay with me asking for a few more days to make the other half. but I don’t even know when that’s going to be :(

my etsy shop veganveins has been doing so bad lately for more than one reason, most of my orders are just postcards and stickers, and while I’m grateful for them, that $1-3 profit isn’t going to keep my business going. and it’s so hard for me to work lately. the wifi doesn’t work sometimes for hours and I always get distracted by shawn and the dogs working from home in a small space. I need to get better at my time management. I got up at 8:30 today which is actually early for me so I’m proud of myself. I’m chronically ill and I really need to go get a blood test and see what’s happening because I haven’t gotten one since being diagnosed with graves disease again 1.5 years ago. anyways. i switched to a print on demand method this year for veganveins for some shirts and sweaters because i couldn’t afford to keep ordering shirts in bulk, and it’s honestly been so, so expensive and i barely make any profit. I’m currently owing my t-shirt printer $999 on one invoice (it was originally $2196 so I’ve at least paid half of it) but that was 2 weeks ago and I still need to pay it. Mario, my t-shirt printer has been with me since I started veganveins and I’m so grateful he gives me extensions on paying the invoices. every other t-shirt printer I’ve ever asked has said no. in addition to the $999 there’s going to be another $2200 invoice I’ll be receiving this week for my last order. I think because of the holidays he’s going to give me some time to pay off that too, but the problem is when I have outstanding invoices he doesn’t print new orders for me. He’s closed now until Jan. 4 so I just need to somehow make that much before then.

btw I don’t have a credit card ($8500 all used on veganveins and it got put into collections last march) and I had a fully used $5000 line of credit but I got a debt consolidation loan for $16,000 1 month ago and my payment for that is $167 a month. it fully paid off and closed my credit card and line of credit + $3000 overdraft which is nice. but now I don’t have any extra money except for what comes in. my credit is only 640 which is really bad in canada so I won’t get approved for a new credit card or loan until I build that up, which is going to be a few months of regular payments. so for regular payments, the $167 for the loan is due on Dec. 27. Yesterday the trailer loan which is literally unliveable from what the mice did until we renovate it came out for $260, that’s how much I pay once a month for it on the 22nd. I didn’t have $260 in my account so it got rejected and I got charged a $48 NSF fee. omg if anyone is reading this long i’m shook. i’m genuinely just writing this for myself to process my feelings and in case anyone was curious about my financial situation here you go haha. maybe some of you can relate, maybe some can’t. anyways. so now I somehow have to get $260 in my account for that for when they try to take it out again in the next few days.

another payment that was supposed to come out yesterday but hasn’t, but I’m sure will come out today is our truck loan. they deferred it for 8 months because of covid which was so nice, but we started paying it again 2 months ago. for both those months I called and made my payment a later date and that helped, but there’s barely any service here so when I called 4 times yesterday to try and change the date the payment comes out, I was on hold for 20-30 mins then my phone would disconnect and hang up. so that’s $586 and it will come out today, I have $0.46 in my account right now so it will get rejected and I’ll get charged another $48 NSF fee. this is why being poor always costs more and the banks are always harsher on those who don’t have money. today I’ll try calling again to see if I can ask for it to come out on a different day like january 10 instead, so I can first have time to pay rent and the trailer and also our $190 truck insurance which got rejected from my account 3 days ago, which was another $48 NSF fee. oh and something else i’m so stressed about is CIBC is going to put me into collections on December 28 if I don’t pay $1000, $700 of which is purely their fees. I have a $300 overdraft which they said i have to cover by then and the $700 is literally their $48 fees added up over the past 3 months. I got a text from them today saying my account is over and it’s because an amnesty international $11 monthly donation came out and obvi there’s no money in there, so that’s another $48 they charged. they’ve already given me a month to pay it and don’t want to wait any longer :(

I owe everyone in my family money, my sister $1650, my mom $700 and my brother also lent me $700. none of my siblings have money either and my mom definitely doesn’t so I hate that i had to borrow that much, and it’s literally been months. thankfully they’re so patient but i can’t wait to not owe them that

omg and i can’t even think about the amount of money shawn’s grandma has lent us. she’s genuinely the only reason we haven’t been completely homeless. but it’s a lot. like i don’t even want to say the number on here. she let us use it from her line of credit over the years and we’ve been slowly paying her back, but she lets us go months at a time without making a payment which i honestly hate doing, but have no choice. i’ve felt a lot of shame and guilt about this, but I also know that she genuinely would rather help us than see us suffer.

so i’m gonna talk about a big reason I’m broke this month especially - saving a pig named buster. his rescue cost me $1850 out of pocket that I didn’t have. but otherwise he was going to be killed in 2 days, he was my baby and I loved him so I had to do it. I somehow made $1350 that went towards it but I’m still owing $500, which I just asked for an extension for today until the new year. i’m not really supposed to talk about it but everything I’ve ever posted here has stayed here, so that cost was literally just from me buying the pig off the farmer. myself along with everyone else ive talked to is disgusted that he charged that much, but he wasnt budging and if that’s what it was going to take, of course I’m going to do it. I wouldn’t think twice about doing it for my dogs and Buster was smarter and more affectionate than them. i love him and I’m so happy he was saved. a non-profit organization transported him to a sanctuary and it was my biggest wish come true and the happiest moment I’ve had all year. my eyes are literally tearing up haha i love him so much. i could write a whole post about his neglect but basically he hasn’t had fresh water in weeks, he was only being fed handfuls of mixed nuts, he was constantly dirty in a muddy enclosure with an electric fence that he was always getting shocked on. he never got true love or affection except for when I gave him it. i posted an instagram story about him and asked people to message me and that i needed help, 2 people donated $111 and $120 each, and 2 other people donated $15 and $12. Someone also e-transferred me $20. These 4 donations equaled almost $300 ($277) and I was so grateful for those people wanting to help me help buster. if anyone else wants to help me with the cost of his rescue i still do need help and would appreciate it so much. this feels really weird and vulnerable for me to do and i’m sorry if anyone is annoyed by this post, I just genuinely am struggling and figured if someone does have extra and wants to help, there isn’t harm in that. but i do feel guilty for asking because i know there are so many other people struggling out there that need even more help than i do :(

i haven’t talked about it publically but i guess I will now, this farmer that I bought buster off of is the owner of the organic vegetable farm i was living and working at this past spring and summer. we worked really hard all summer to be able to stay there and park for free in the winter, but this past fall he told us no one was allowed to stay at the farm anymore, including us, so we had to find a new place to bring our 14ft trailer in to live. so that was an unexpected bummer and if we had known we wouldn’t be allowed staying there anymore (despite doing the labour of $1200 a month for free harvesting organic kale, for an off-grid spot he told us was worth $350 a month to park) we wouldn’t have driven 8 hours with the trailer and we would have stayed in the snow in northern BC and sucked it up and lived on the land we got the opportunity to rent this fall. Donna, the woman who is renting the land to us has been the biggest blessing in my life this year. I love her so much. Basically, she’s letting us live on 170 acres for $600 a month. letting us do whatever we want on the land (building a cabin, setting up rainwater catchment systems, having a solar passive greenhouse and a huge garden) LIKE WHAT. we could even open a farm sanctuary if we had money, i wanted to so bad but obviously that dream didn’t even come close to being reality. opportunities like this literally don’t exist in canada, especially not in BC. i cant even process my gratitude, i cry everytime i think about it. when we go back in the spring it’s going to be the beginning of the rest of our life :) i want to rescue so many senior dogs. everything we’ve always wanted to do we’ll be able to do, assuming we have money haha. but i want to have an organic farm and grow veggies to donate to families in need, especially since we live on stolen indiginious land and I see how the goverment actively restricts their access to fresh healthy produce. but anyways by then it was too dangerous to drive 8 hours back hauling a trailer in the snow and it was just easier to stay in the okanagan until the spring. i know the farmer probably doesn’t realize this and he’s also probably struggling financially but not being able to stay at the farm for the winter months we worked for, and buying buster for that price is a big reason I’m in the financial stress I am now so I figured i’d talk about it.

anyways. i think this is long enough and i think anyone reading this gets the point, i’m drowning in debt, my small business is almost costing me more to run and i’m not making nearly enough profit to live, the past few months ive been living off grid (not by choice) and just focused literally on surviving and not freezing and getting water etc and not having service or internet has affected me negatively. there’s internet now in the suite I’m in, it works really good in the morning and not as well at night, like for example tumblr doesn’t work past 5 pm for me to post photos. but ive been in a bad sleep schedule since i got here that i need to change. im sick and i need to heal myself. tomorrow i’ll set my alarm for 7:30. hopefully i make some money today. i got a social media managing job and it will end up being $1000 a month once i do the 3+ hours a day of work which im already feeling like i barely have time for my own basic life tasks. but i can do this.

if anyone reading this wants to help me out a bit, my paypal email is [email protected] or http://www.paypal.com/paypalme/veganveins

and my e-transfer email is [email protected] i have auto deposit so you won’t have to ask a question :)

this is my first time in 7 years i’ve made a post like this or asked for help. i won’t do it again but figured i have nothing to lose. if you read up to here i love you a lot and thank you so much for being here <3

#personal #finances #broke #poor #vegan #small business owner #graves disease #saving animals #off grid #I wonder if anyone will even read this all #debt #life update lol #p

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hey-hamlet · 4 years ago

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BNHA FIC PROMPTS

A collection of all of the fic ideas from that ask game, as of now. I’ll throw in new ones if i get any and when I remember. Feel free to use any of them, I’d love a link if you did!

with hands to the sky, I beg (what will save us?)

Izuku is a god who asks to be reborn as a human to try and help. He is warned he can’t return to being a god and will join the mortal realm, ever reincarnated. He agrees.

Izuku is a child with faint memories of a life he never lived, who knows too much about the world but not enough about the people around him. He’s not listed as having a quirk but he’s never gotten sick, never been hurt. He scares the other children and the adults don’t like his precocious nature. Inko loves her little miracle.

My Soul is Like a Supernova

Things happen around Izuku. Always have. Everything from earthquakes and villain attacks to miraculous healing and lottery wins. He’s always attracted big events like this - as if even the universe can see how important he is and it warps itself around him.

He sees this as perfectly normal. 1A is begining to notice a stressful pattern.

This one regret of mine

Character study of Inko and how she deeply regrets so many things she’s done in her life, from her husband, to giving up on her carrier, to telling Izuku he couldn’t be a hero and then letting him keep going to UA.

But no matter what she’d never regret her son.

Of souls and lost causes

A good ol’ Izuku sees dead people AU, focused more on his younger years when he’d wander around the city helping as many spirits as he could, only to return home at the end of the day exhausted and dirty to an increasingly worried mother who believed the doctor when he said seeing ghosts as a quirk would be impossible.

my life.your choice

Underground heroics AU (i dont think ive ever posted that au huh): Izuku is the well-known son of japan’s immortal emperor, All for One. Born quirkless, he’s been emotionally abused but violently protected his whole life by his father, his mother killed before his eyes for trying to take him away. He’s never been able to make a choice for himself save for his bodyguard - his childhood friend, Bakugo Katsuki.

Katsuki made a pledge to protect him when they were in kindergarten and he’ll be damned if he breaks it now. And if it takes the two of them joining the resistance, meeting a vigilante by the name of All Might thought long dead and Izuku receiving a near-mythical quirk? Well, that just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?

I forgot that you existed

Izuku gets hit with a quirk that not only makes people forget him, it prevents them from seeing him as well - all but erasing him from reality for everyone he knows. He can still interact with things but all it manages to do is just UA shut down under fear of villain infiltration. They find Izuku 18 hours later when the quirk wears off - a motion tracking gun trained on his forehead.

certain uncertainties

No one can predict the quirks trapped in One for All or when they’ll show up. Anthology fic of Izuku discovering each of them, some being rather helpful, and at least one piece of merch being sent into a low orbit.

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance

Set in the same universe I wrote console reset in; during the two heroes movie: they never defeat Nine and he slaughters the whole island and his class, leaving Izuku till last. He comes back at the start of their first day on the island and doggedly makes friends with every islander he can because while it hurt seeming them die, it hurt even more knowing he’d never even learnt most of their names.

They win this time the first time they meet him, even if it’s a marathon fight of 8 hours with him and Bakugo doggedly wearing him down. No one dies. Izuku thinks it’s worth dying as many times as he has to to keep the people he loves smiling.

The immortality of the heroic spirit

One of the quirks in One for All is determination: if you have something you desperately want to do, you can’t die - no matter how much blood you lose or home many pieces your body is crushed into - you’ll just heal back to where you were before you died. All Might and Aizawa find this out to horrifying effect during a brutal villain fight they are stuck watching on the news with the rest of a terrified UA.

In hindsight this makes a lot of sense to Izuku. Aizawa wants to scream. All Might has coughed up more blood than is probably healthy and all of 1A bruised hands from where they were clutching each other’s when it got too tense.

Shine on you invincible legacy

Izuku becomes a top 10 hero before hes even out of high school, hitting No.2 the second he graduates and taking No.1 from Hawks literally the next time the ranking is counted. 1A will not stop throwing him parties each time he moves up in the ranking, even if in 3rd year it was every other week. All Might comes to ever one of them.

Shake the Dirt from Your Shoes

Izuku will be a hero and no one will stop him - an AU a fair bit like the beginning of canon except Izuku fights back, remains unending optimistic and maybe engages in a light bit of technically legal vigilantism, accidentally befriending a vast array of heroes and a student or two.

To his horror, they recognise him out of costume as soon as he speaks to them, resulting in a very eventful first day at UA.

do you feel with a heart of steel

Original Sin AU, young Izuku finding feeling emotions difficult and not knowing why. He finds a dying animal on the way home and sits with it, patting it until it passes away. He doesn’t think he feels anything, but his cheeks feel wet.

all you want is milk and honey

Villains have been trying to use Izuku his entire life, much to his annoyance and confusion (I wonder who in his family might make him known to villains? hm). He’s gotten very good at being intimidating, even as a child.

When he gets kidnapped with Bakugo on a primary school field trip he decides to hell with it and breaks out all the stops. Turns out villains don’t tend to want a 10-year-old who can describe in great detail how they would hang you with your own intestines.

Bakugo decides that fuck Izuku being quirkless, he’s kind of amazing.

Even the stars

Izuku dies young and no one but the stars cry for him. They bring him back, but his body is cold and he has a nova burning where his heart should be. A four-year-old who has known death and walked among the stars is a terrifying thing. His skin has a shimmer to it, his eyes look like planets with no visible pupil, and he knows far too much.

The stars still speak to him, and they see everything.

bitter dreams and optimistic nightmares

Bakugo and Izuku grow up good friends, until Izuku is taken by villains age 9.

Bakugo’s determined to be a hero to save Izuku, even if it hurts to be at UA without him.

Izuku hates hurting people but he’s determined to make the most of his horrible situation by leaking information to heroes whenever he can. He’s given to All for One to serve as a lab hand to the doctor when All for One finds out this rag tag outpost of his had been hiding a valuable resource.

They meet at the USJ.

Mind Games for Two Shinsou and Izuku are both gen ed students in the same class, but with Shinsou stubbornly refusing to make friends and Izuku being the vice president they are almost strangers. UA has a no quirkless students policy and Shinsou has accidentally discovered that he student in his class with an analysis quirk, doesn’t, actually, have one. Izuku is aware Shinsou knows. They both want to get into the hero course but are under the impression there is only one spot.

It’s tense.

The Melody Stuck in My Soul

Izuku has an empathy/emotional control quirk that hears other’s emotions like music. He uses this both to read people, to defend himself, and, because hes Izuku, to ramp up his adrenaline/motivation/anger to kick ass. He and Bakugo are friends because baby Bakugo was lowkey impressed Izuku managed to weaponize his tears.

Advantage of the musical element: it gives him something concrete to latch on to and change, and it was very easy to work out which emotions were which. Also he has his own theme song, even if he’s the only one who can hear it.

Disadvantage: He cant turn it off. The stronger the emotion the ‘louder’ the music (it doesn’t cover up natural sounds because its not technically there, you get me?)

Error 404, childhood not found

A Hero’s Son AU, snapshot’s of Izuku’s childhood with No.1 Hero All for One as his abusive father.

Age 4 when his quirk never comes in and All for One abandons all pretences of loving him. Age 6 when he realises his son is intelligent and has a use as a lab assistant for the doctor. Age 8 when Bakugo first realises something is wrong. Age 9 when his father is almost killed by the No.1 villain All Might. Age 9 when he’s made to work in the labs with the doctor.

Age 14 when he meets All Might. Age 15 when he makes it into UA.

Darkness Growing (The Light Ever Smaller)

Villains take over Japan after the current arc, leaving all heroes and students that don’t switch sides on the run. 1A is instantly separated with a few of them being killed, most of the living students with Aizawa and Izuku and Bakugo by themselves, both too stubborn to leave the other.

Aizawa is desperately trying to get to Izuku and Bakugo in an attempt to keep them safe, while the two of them are avoiding Aizawa to keep the rest of their class safe(er), all while avoiding the villains, turncoat heroes and police out to get them. Public support is spotty at best with anyone found ‘harboring a criminal’ given the same punishment as the hero.

Lost soul of last hope

The first wielder has been Izuku’s imaginary friend since he can remember. He’s not very imaginary.

Featuring Izuku with the world’s strangest older brother, Inko coming to the realisation her son can see a ghost, but only one ghost and no one will believe them, Izuku’s quirk being listed as Inko’s because the first wielder can help him fake it, and Izuku wondering why first looks so much like that picture of his father on his mother’s bedside table.

The kids the system failed

100% The 1A run aways au with 1A, Aizawa and Mic being runaways kids of various ages that band together to stay alive and maybe do a little vigilante work on the side.

Izuku has All for One and uses it like you’d expect a traumatised kid to - cautiously at first but when he gets the hang of it there are suddenly no more criminals with quirks in their area, and it looks suspiciously like Uraraka can fly.

Just a second to soon? For the Fic thing?

Aizawa struggles and gets knocked out just before Shigaraki lunges at Tsuyu. She and Izuku are left horribly injured by his quirk with massive facial scarring, and in Tsuyu’s case, the loss of an eye.

Daze

An illusion/fear quirk makes his teachers look like villains and convinces him he’s in danger. They try and stop him without hurting him but it’s difficult considering Izuku is convinced he’s protecting his friends, considering he can only see them broken and bloodied with villains he thought were locked away loaming over them.

Even as Aizawa cuts out his quirk Izuku still tries to shield his friends, snarling ferally.

Morning Glories and Forget-me-nots

A memory quirk of unknown duration hits Izuku, leaving him remembering none of his life. 1A starts to fall apart without one of their pillar’s.

hopeless but not broken

The Long Con au where Izuku asks All Might if he could be a hero without a quirk - he’s really asking if he can stop pretending to be a villain, if he’s worth anything without the quirks he’s been given, if he’s worth something as himself rather than the limited use he can provide. He doesn’t know how to say all of that, so he just asks if he could be a hero.

All Might says no. And Izuku basically decides right then that the only way he’ll ever be able to help people is by being a mole for the heroes like he’s been since he was 10 - that he isn’t worth anything because he’s quirkless and to be considered just as valuable as the people around him are he needs to give his life and more.

He shows up to the bar crying because of All Might and Shigaraki moves his murder plot forward a few months.

Sunflowers and Summer Gardens

All Might starts a garden on campus and 1A like to help. He uses it as a nice place to chill and as physical therapy. He likes to give the different classes bunches of flowers when they sprout.

For Dos and For Donts

Izuku runs into some of his old bullies when out with some of his friends. Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Shinsou and Asui intimidate the fuck out of them, and Izuku realises hes not scared of them any more. Then they get frozen yoghurt!

your mistakes, my unbecoming

Aizawa assigns a project on quirk related issues, Izuku ends up with quirkless discrimination, Aizawa assumes his discomfort is just him being upset he doesn’t get to talk about quirks. He doesn’t realise his mistake until he finds Izuku dissociating on the roof.

one and one into the vast

Original Sin AU, All for One and Izuku seeing the vestiges together. One for All sees his brother for the first time and Izuku learns a lot about the voice in his head.

All for One has a mini-crisis about his not son learning he’s a horrific villain, especially considering he has the power to cast his soul out at any time, killing him at will. Izuku doesn’t kill him. He admits its probably not right of him to let AfO remain considering the things he’s done, but All for One is a part of him now and it would be like killing a friend.

All for One quietly decides to hold off on the villainy until all of 1A is dead, for Izuku’s sake.

between the stars of our souls

Izuku and All Might are old gods who keep getting reborn into human forms with their memories regained when they turn 4. Normally finding each other takes a while, and their last reincarnation they never found each other, so this time he resolves to make himself as easy to find as possible, all while saving as many people as he can.

Izuku, aged 4, memories fresh in his head, makes it his mission to get into contact with the man he knows is his father/mentor’s reincarnation. All Might’s agency was not expecting a 4 year old to repeatedly try breaking in to their office, and they especially weren’t expecting him to be so good at it.

you really should have thought this through

Different (and ill-advised) attempts at special moves or team up combo moves. Featuring:

Izuku managing to break Kirishima’s nose.

Uraraka sending Bakugo so high he broke the sound barrier coming back down to earth.

Kaminari and Shouto managing to electrify ice.

Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugo levelling a whole suburb (at least it was condemned???)

I'll Break Anything You Give Me

Different times Izuku desperately tried to repair his relationship with Izuku over the years and the one time Bakugo fully grasps how much he fucked up and reaches out his hand to try to fix it for the first time. Probably includes a lot of screaming, Bakugo learning how to say sorry, a field trip and them having a conversation on Aldera’s roof.

Sinking

One for All kind of possesses Izuku during a quiet night at the dorms. One for All, made of 8 people, 7 of which are dead and had their last experiences in life be rather painful and violent, breaks down, Izuku alone not enough to drown them out. They lash out at anyone who tries to touch them, their quirks tearing Izuku’s body apart.

All Might’s vestige reaches out a hand to Izuku to keep his mind from being torn apart as 1A set about both trying to protect Izuku and get Aizawa who was off campus on patrol.

Feat. Bakugo and All Might being the only people with any idea about what’s going on and getting more and more stressed each second that passes. Iida, Uraraka and Todoroki being good heroes and even better friends. Blood King deciding he’s never watching 1A for Aizawa again, and Aizawa deciding he’s never leaving 1A alone ever again.

A Long Way From Home

Shirakumo wakes up in Kurogiri’s body in Tartarus with only shadowed memories of his time as a villain. He’s scared and alone and he just wants to see his friends again, even if he’s scared they hate him because at least that’s something he knows.

Too Far Gone

The other side AU, it comes out Izuku is a villain with (knockoff) All for One and he has a showdown with Mirio. He and Izuku trained together under All Might and Mirio tries to plead with him but Izuku has to basically tell him to go to hell to not ruin his placet as crown prince of the underworld.

Of course, he’s not only doing this to save people, he’s also doing it with All Might’s blessing - taking over from All Might himself serving as a villain after he killed All for One to prevent a power vacuum.

Doesn’t mean that his friends in 1A know that.

Snowy hills and sunlit peaks

Probably an AU about All Might being a mountain spirit with a little shrine that Izuku is the only one who visits - Izuku gets in trouble and All Might manifests himself, saves him, and tells everyone to keep their hands off his human son.

Wilting

Izuku gets sick and he tries to hide it because he’s scared its something serious but he just gets worse and worse. His friends are the ones who eventually step in and comfort him.

I’d probably write two endings with one being a bad end and the other a good end.

My wish came true without me realising

Izuku wakes up one morning, comes downstairs and just starts crying. Everyone panics and he reassures them they are happy tears and that he's just glad to be here. They all call him sappy and give him a hug. Later in the day he and Bakugo chat and Izuku reveals he never even expected to live this long, let alone become a hero. Bakugo grumbles that he’s too stubborn to die, and not to get too cocky. Izuku promises he wont.

#38 of them damn #bnha prompts #mha prompts #prompt list #bnha #mha #bnha au #boku no hero #my hero academia #hero aca

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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Flatbush & Atlantic: part ix

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

And here we’ve got part ix! This will be the second-to-last part of the series, I’ve got some thoughts also running around for a possible epilogue if that’s something anyone would be interested in reading. As always, there’s literally nothing writers love more than hearing from you all, so don’t be afraid to come and tell me what you think - my inbox is open, comment on the post, reblog with your thoughts!

part ix

April 27 (tues)

Mat’s mind was racing. If he was honest, he hadn’t been able to concentrate worth a damn since Cass had dropped the news about her job offer. Hong Kong? He knew she was brilliant, knew that her skills could and should take her anywhere in the world she wanted to go; the thought that she might leave New York, leave him, was still terrifying. Becoming more worried by the minute, he pulled out his phone, dialing the first person he could think of that might be able to help.

Tito answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Tito. What’s up?” Mat asked nervously.

“What’s wrong, Mat?” He immediately asked. Mat cursed under his breath; even over the phone, Beau was always able to read him like a book.

Mat grimaced. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mat, we see each other pretty much every day. Not to be a jerk or something, but you don’t really call me unless something’s wrong. What is it? Did you and Cass have a fight?” Mat could imagine him crossing his arms on the other end.

“Not exactly,” he said, scratching his head as he wandered aimlessly around the park. “She got this job offer, and it sounds like a really exciting opportunity, but…” He trailed off.

“But?”

“It’s all the way in Asia. It’s in Hong Kong.”

Tito sucked in a breath. “Oh, wow. That’s a big one. Big move. Has she said if she’s going to take it?”

“Not really, she hasn’t decided.” Mat shook his head, not realizing Tito wouldn’t be able to see. “We talked through it a little, they’re offering a really good starting salary and she likes the company values, but it’s such a huge jump that she’s not ready to make the call yet.”

“Did you talk about what it would mean for you as a couple?”

“A little, though not as much as we probably should have,” Mat admitted. “Neither of us would want to break it off just because it would be long distance, but logistically it would just be a nightmare. It’s something like a 15 hour flight from New York, so it’s not like either of us would ever be able to make that more than once or twice a year. Did you know that it’s a twelve hour time difference from here?”

“No,” Tito said, “and it’s obviously not like I know exactly what you’re going through. Paige is a kindergarten teacher, so it’s not exactly like her job would suddenly pick up and move to another country. But it’s obviously a different story with me.”

As distracted as he was, Mat felt compelled to respond. “You know they’re going to resign you, right? It would be a terrible move for them if they didn’t.”

“Yeah, I mean that’s what I’ve figured,” Beau responded. “And my agent told me to expect negotiations to start in the next month or so, but still. I could be sent to Winnipeg or Phoenix or Vancouver pretty much without notice, and I wouldn’t want to ask her to just pick up her whole life and follow me. So, I get the feeling.” He paused for a moment. “How do you feel about it?”

“Mixed feelings,” Mat answered honestly. “I’d never want to hold her back from anything, that’s not the kind of person I am and it’d be a dick move regardless. She’s her own person and deserves to be able to make her own decisions. And I would never want her to grow to resent me if she decided to stay for my sake. That would almost be worse. I just..I really love her, Tito, and I would hate for us to never be able to see eachother because of her job. Or worse, for this to mean the end of us because the distance was too hard to deal with.”

It took Tito a minute to respond. “I know you love her, Mat. It’s pretty obvious. You look at her like she hung the moon. But if they all say that things will work out if you love each other and talk it through, then what are you so worried about?”

Mat took a deep breath before answering, trying to gather his thoughts as best he could. When he spoke, his voice wavered. “Because I’ve never been this gone for a girl, Tito. What Cass and I have...I don’t even know how to describe it. I’d stop the Earth turning if it made her happy. It’s just...she’s it for me. I’m done looking. And the idea that I could be 13,000 kilometers away from her isn’t even something I had considered. I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

“Wow. That’s...that’s big, Mat. You serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he replied.

“When do they need to hear back by?” Tito asked.

Mat looked down at his watch, checking the time. “Not for a few weeks. She’s got some time to decide, which is almost worst.”

Tito hummed sympathetically. “Just talk it through. I can’t pretend like I know what’s going to happen, but I have faith in you. It’s going to work out.”

“I hope so.”

May 13 (thurs)

It was nine days before Cass graduated, and if she was being honest, her time may have objectively been better spent studying for her finals, the first of which was Monday. But this was Mat, and this was the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and she supposed that her studies could wait for a night while she spent her evening at Barclays. It was Game 5 of the Eastern Conference final, and there was no way she was going to miss her team’s chance at the Wales trophy. The tone in the arena was tense from the moment she stepped in; ever the optimist, Cass liked the Islanders’ chances, but the fact remained that they were down 3-1 in the series after a 4-0 rout by the Lightning in Game 4. The series had started off with forward momentum after winning the first game at home, but the three-game losing streak had done little for the fans’ hopes and even less for the team’s morale.

The only bright spot, if she could call it that, was Mat’s return to the ice. He knew as well as anything that the recovery time was for his own good, but he wasn’t made to be cooped up in his apartment for nearly two weeks straight, save only doctor’s appointments and short trips to the complex gym. Per his usual dramatic fashion, Mat had been cleared in time for Game 7 of the second round, returning to raucous cheers and scoring two goals in the eventual 4-2 win over the Capitals. She had caught up enough on her work to be able to make the game, and it was one of the great joys of her life to be up in a box surrounded by her friends when the love of her life scored the goal that sent the Islanders to the conference finals for the first time in nearly thirty years.

That kind of a dramatic win had made the losing streak that much harder. Game sevens are always exciting, especially with someone coming back off of injured reserve. While the win hadn’t made the team cocky by any means, the confidence had carried over into something more closely resembling complacency. They won Game 7, they won the first of the next series, so some of the team — mostly the younger players who hadn’t yet cut their teeth in the league — had made the mistake of assuming that the rest of the round would be smooth sailing. They should have known better, Cass thought ruefully as the Lightning scored two minutes before the first intermission to even the score at 1-1. Why couldn’t this be the round before, filled with confidence and coordination and laser-focused passing on every line? Why couldn’t it have been the celebration after?

---

May 3 (tues)

Winning a game sometimes called for going out. Winning a series almost definitely called for going out. And winning a series in Game 7 that sent your team to the conference finals for the first time in recent memory called for going out, and going out hard. As much as Cass would have loved to get as hammered as the rest of the group, especially considering the stress she was under with finals and graduation and her job offer piling up, they didn’t want a repeat of the afterparty from the All-Star Game, and Cass still had school the next day. So, she had committed to limiting herself to three drinks. “I want to be tipsy, not shitfaced,” she had explained to Paige on the drive over. Tito had driven his car over, Paige volunteering to DD so the boys could let loose and everyone could let off some much-needed steam.

Someone had already opened up a tab for everyone by the time their car had gotten there, and it wasn’t ten minutes before they had claimed a few couches in the corner and Cass had a caipirinha in her hand. She was a little worried that Mat’s tolerance had tanked in the past few weeks; he hadn’t really drank since before the concussion and it was their first time at a bar in a few weeks regardless. Mat noticed her nervous glances out of the corner of his eye. “I’m fine,” he reassured her. “I specifically asked the doctors if I was good to drink at my last appointment and they said I was in the clear.”

Cass giggled, sipping her drink. “You asked your doctors if you could drink alcohol?”

“What can I say?” Mat shrugged. “I wanted to go out and get lit with friends, can you blame me?”

Cass’ giggles had evolved into full-on belly laughs. “Lit? What are you, sixteen?”

Mat’s cheeks reddened in what was probably a combination of alcohol and embarrassment. “My cousin said it once.”

Cass headed back over to the bar a few minutes later for another drink, leaving the boys to talk amongst themselves with the occasional interruption from an excited fan. On a high from the win, the team were more than happy to take photos and have quick chats with anyone who stopped them, and thankfully weren’t mobbed by the crowd inside the bar. For the most part, Cass and her relationship with Mat had been able to fly under the radar — well, as much as she could being Mat Barzal’s other half. Her Instagram hadn’t been private since college, and while a fair few fans and fanpages followed her, it had all remained mercifully low-key. Waiting at the bar, she resigned herself to scroll through Twitter for a few minutes, knowing it would be a little while before the bartender got to her.

“Are you Cassidy Shaw?” Cass’ head turned slowly towards her right, where a short blonde girl looked at her with a shocked expression.

“Cabrera Shaw, but yes?” She answered slowly.

“Sorry!” The girl apologized, “I didn’t mean to be weird or anything. I follow you on Instagram, it’s just so weird to finally see you in person.” Cass gave a nervous laugh. She had fans? On Instagram? Who were excited if they met her in real life?

“One Southside and whatever your favorite IPA on tap is, please,” Cass said to the bartender who had just leaned over the counter to get her order. “Thank you? You’re welcome?” Cass smiled awkwardly.

“I just wanted to say that I think it’s super cool how you’re not a typical WAG or anything. My name’s Sierra, I’m a junior at St. John’s. I’m applying for law school next year. It’s just, like, awesome to see a woman being successful in her own right apart from her partner, especially when they’re in such a visible position and it’s not what’s expected of them. I’m sorry — I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Cass laughed, a genuine one this time. “No, you’re totally good. Don’t worry. That’s really sweet of you to say, thanks a lot!” She sipped the Southside the bartender had just handed her, sliding Mat’s beer over. “Yeah, I have so much respect for the other women who choose to do more philanthropic work or be stay-at-home moms, but that’s not what I feel pulled to. Right now, at least.”

“Right, totally,” Julia said, grabbing what looked like a rum and coke from the other bartender. “Anyways, I should let you get back to the celebration. Tell the team congratulations, it was a great game to watch!”

Cass picked up the other glass, nodding. “I will. Thank you for your kind words, that was sweet of you to say.”

“Anytime!” Julia chirped happily.

Cass walked carefully back over to the group, keeping an eye on the drinks. She handed Mat’s beer to him. He looked up curiously, taking a sip. “Something hold you up at the bar?”

She shook her head, then nodded, then shook it again. “Kind of? I think I just had my first fan encounter.”

He laughed, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Comes with the territory, babe.”

---

The game was scoreless through the second period, which didn’t help the tension in the stadium or Cass’ blood pressure. She and Paige had decided to get actual seats for the game, which Mat and Tito were more than happy to arrange. The Islanders were doing well through the first half of the third period, other than a little bit of messy passing the lines were good. But good wasn’t good enough sometimes, good wasn’t close enough to score and give them the lead. Cass’ heart sank as soon as one of the defensemen, she wasn’t sure who, made a turnover in the neutral zone to give the Lightning the puck. Kucherov picked it off, skating past the defenders and around the goal while the rest of the line nearly tripped over themselves trying to skate back in time.

She was on the edge of her seat as he wrapped around the goal, silently praying that Varlamov would somehow be able to get a piece of the puck with his blocker or that it would have one of those one-in-a-million deflections off of the post. You could hear a pin drop in the stadium as everyone waited for the shot; tall of the sudden, time seemed to move like molasses. And then the puck went in, the red light went on, and the scattered sections of blue-and-white clad Lightning fans threw their arms up in celebration.

Cass allowed herself exactly ten seconds to hold her head in her hands. There was still seven minutes, thirty nine seconds left. There was still time. Then there was five minutes, forty-two seconds left, and Maroon got two minutes for tripping, and that was their chance. That was supposed to be their chance. But then the penalty came and went, and it was three minutes left. Two minutes left. They pulled Varlamov at one minutes fifty-eight seconds left, and then it was the last shift. Forty-nine seconds left, and it was time for a Hail Mary. Out of habit, Cass’s lips began moving in the prayer. Hail Mary, full of grace...It was a holdover from her lacrosse days, when they were down in the last quarter with seemingly no hope in sight. It didn’t always work, but it sometimes did. It didn’t work that night. It didn’t work because the clock ticked down to zero, the score was still 2-1, and the Islanders had lost. They were out of the playoffs. Fans began shuffling out of the rink, shoulders slumped and heads down, as Cass bit her lip and tried not to cry. The team had worked so hard for this. God, they had worked so hard. And if she was taking it this badly, if it was affecting her this much, then she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for the guys on the team.

Paige turned to her after a few minutes, when there were only a handful of people still left in their seats and the Zambonis had come out to resurface the ice one last time. “We should probably get down there, do you think?” She asked softly. Cass nodded. She was referring to the tunnel, outside the locker room where everyone usually got to greet their partners with kisses and hugs and words of congratulations, but where the mood would be profoundly different on that night. Cass grabbed her bag and straightened out her jersey, squeezing Paige’s hand. Neither of them really knew what the environment was going to be like after such a devastating knockout; Paige had started dating Anthony the summer before, and Cass obviously had even less experience. They had dealt with losses, they had dealt with disappointments and losing streaks and points droughts, but this was something new entirely.

They rode the elevator in silence before walking down the corridors to the room, where the rest of the WAGs and other family had congregated. Kerry rubbed her shoulder sympathetically as Lauren walked over. “We in the Islanders family have a lot of experience with getting knocked out of the playoffs,” she said with a weak smile, trying to crack a joke, “so here is how it usually goes. The guys should be coming out in a few, it takes longer than usual because the media typically has some end-of-the-season wrapup questions and Trotz and Anders will probably make speeches or say something. Some others might too.” The two women nodded. “Don’t treat it like just another loss, but it’s also no good to hover too much. It’s obviously a real disappointment, so it usually takes a week or so before most of them bounce back to being their normal selves. They know what coping mechanisms work best for them. Most will hit the gym more, read or cook if they’re into that, something to get their mind off of it. Obviously they’re still players and still want to know how they can get better, so they might want to go over tapes of the games and make notes of where they went wrong. That’s fine, but don’t let them beat themselves up about it too much. This was a hard series, and Mat especially,” she gestured towards Cass, “tends to be more than a little bit of a perfectionist.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cass said.

“One last thing,” she continued. “Let them process, let them cope, but a loss not an excuse for them to treat you any worse, any less kindly. Be understanding, of course. But don’t take any crap from them, regardless of the circumstance.”

“Thank you,” Paige said gratefully. Cass echoed her sentiment. The next ten minutes were filled with checking emails and making half-hearted conversation before the team started to trail out of the room. Embracing their partners and families, most couples exchanged no more than a few words before turning down the hall that led to the players’ parking lot. Paige left with a squeeze to her shoulder and a promise to get coffee the next week before grabbing Tito’s hand and guiding him towards the cars.

Unsurprisingly, Mat followed right behind. He hadn’t combed his hair after his shower, the top button of his dress shirt was undone and only haphazardly tucked into his pants. Mat had been on the shift when Kucherov scored, and if there was anything she knew about her boyfriend, it was that he’d take it personally. He dropped his bag on the ground as she embraced him, and the thud against the concrete floor felt as if it could echo all the way across the Long Island Sound.

“I’m so proud of you, Mat. So, so proud. I know this didn’t end how you wanted it to, but you worked so fucking hard to get here, and that’s what I see. That’s all I see,” she whispered.

Mat wasn’t crying, but his breathing was labored nonetheless. “I just feel...I feel like I let everyone down. I wasn’t supposed to be that far up on the ice, and if I hadn’t, maybe I would have gotten back in time to steal the puck, or check him or something, or…” He trailed off.

Cass sighed. “I know, chou, I know how you feel. But just try to remember that this is a team sport. You win with the boys, you lose with the boys. Do you get mad at Tito when he makes a bad play? Or Jordan, or Anders?” Mat shook his head. “It’s the same way with you. They don’t stop being proud of you or think you’re any less of an incredible player because you made a bad decision. Bad decisions get made all the time, and it doesn’t have to reflect on the person who made them. It’s a hard game, love, but you did your best and that’s all anyone ever has a right to ask of you.”

Mat’s thumb rubbed against the small of her back. “I know I’ll be fine, eventually. I mean, we’ve all dealt with this before. It just seems different this time, because we were so close to actually making the finals. It seems kind of silly to say since I know I’m only 23 and I know I’ve got so much time left to play, but,” he took a shaky breath, “I look at all the veterans, all the amazing players whose entire careers have gone by without ever having gotten the Cup. Lundqvist and Thornton and Marleau and all of these legends. And it sounds kind of selfish and naive, but I don’t want to be one of them.”

They stood like that for a few more minutes, just holding each other, before either spoke again. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Cass murmured to Mat as she carded her hands through his hair. She felt a tiny, almost imperceptible nod against her shoulder. Her bag had her laptop, books, and chargers. She had a whole drawer in Mat’s room by then, a combination of stray shirts that were his-turned-hers, a few pairs of leggings — they took up an entire drawer of their own back at her apartment — and balled-up socks from her one unsuccessful attempt at doing the laundry in his building. She had a spare box of tampons in his bathroom, her floral shampoo next to his 2-in-1 Old Spice. No matter how hard she pushed, Mat remained oblivious to the benefits of having separate shampoo and conditioner.

He pulled away, reaching into his pocket and handing over his keys. “Do you mind driving?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. Whatever you need.”

The ride back home was about forty minutes, and it was almost halfway through before either of them spoke, the lull of the 80s rock channel filling in the silence. “Where’s your head at, Mat?” She asked carefully.

He was looking out the window, distracted. “Hm?”

She repeated the question and he tensed slightly, leaning back into the passenger seat. “Just feeling kind of...confused about the whole thing. Seems like I’m being pulled in a thousand different directions one day, but then all of the sudden something like this happens and I’ve got nothing. It’s overwhelming. I know I have a life outside of hockey, I know it’s not all of who I am, but sometimes it seems hard to believe that when it seems like that’s all I’m recognized for.” Keeping one hand on the wheel, Cass reached over to cover his hand with her own. His fingers held onto hers like a lifeline.

“You’re right, you know?” She said as they passed into the Queens-Midtown tunnel.

“About?”

“Being so much more than people perceive you to be. I get that, it’s like that for me too sometimes. And Mat, you are so much more than ‘just a hockey player.’ You’re a good son and an amazing brother to Liana, and an awesome friend to Tito and the guys on the team and everyone back home. And,” she added, cracking a smile, “you’re a pretty good boyfriend too.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Just pretty good?”

“I didn’t want to fluff your ego too much,” Cass said. “But seriously, Mat. You’re incredible entirely on your own merit. You care so deeply for the people in your life and you love so hard, and it’s an honor and a privilege to be able to witness that firsthand.”

Mat bent down to the center console, brushing a kiss over her hand. “How do you do it?”

Now it was her turn to question. “Do what?”

“Always know the right thing to say.”

“I don’t,” Cass admitted. “And sometimes I get it wrong. But I know I love you, and I don’t want to see you hurting if there’s anything I can do about it.” The car exited the tunnel into the dotted lights of a Manhattan evening.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “if there was an Oscar for pep talks, I’d have to give it to you, hands down. No offense to any of the guys on the team.”

She laughed, stopping at the light. Right on red wasn’t legal in New York City, a rule she found out the hard way two months after moving. “I’m glad it helps.”

“It does,” Mat said softly. “It means the world to me that you care enough to do it. You mean the world to me.”

Her cheeks heated. “You sure know how to flatter a girl, eh, Barzal?”

“I meant every word.”

---

May 20 (thurs)

She was done. After three years, six semesters, dozens of classes, and hundreds of hours studying, Cass had just finished her last final of law school. Her classmates stumbled out of the lecture hall, not entirely believing that all of their tears and heartache and hard work had come to a head in such an anticlimactic fashion. Turning on her heel, she walked south. It was just before seven, and her friends had a group reservation at some ridiculously extravagant French wine bar. It was Les’ idea, who had a penchant for all things expensive and who had made the reservation months prior because “you never know, John Mayer could book the whole place up and as much as I love dollar slices, we don’t want that to be our only option for what’s supposed to be a very prestigious celebratory dinner.” Les, Fiona, and Samaira were coming, along with Daniel, another editor on the law review, and Robin, one of Cass’ friends from first-year criminal law and the president of the Women’s Law Association. She had initially been wary about inviting Mat; it wasn’t that she didn’t think he’d get along with her law school friends, but she didn’t want him to feel out of the loop. After Les had announced that he was bringing his boyfriend, Xavier, Cass had extended the invite to Mat as well.

It was only a ten minute walk, and the hostess directed Cass to their table, where she realized that she was the last one to arrive. “Don’t worry,” Robin said, “we’ve just been interrogating your man.”

Cass scooted in next to Mat, kissing him quickly before rolling her eyes. “I hope you haven’t been too hard on him.”

Mat smiled. “Nah, they’ve been good. But being questioned by six lawyers who all seem very adamant that I don’t deserve you —”

“You don’t,” Samaira cut in, though it was clear she was joking.

“Was more than a little intimidating,” Mat finished, handing Cass the menu.

“Order whatever you want, I’m paying,” Daniel said as he flicked through the wine menu. “Well, technically, my parents are.” Daniel came from money; his mom was a partner at a firm in Chicago and his dad was a law professor at the University of Chicago. “If they’re going to insist on sending me to law school and sheltering me my whole life, the least I could do is take advantage of their generosity,” Daniel said, plunking his credit card onto the table. Fifteen minutes later, the group was sharing plates of escargots, crab tartine, and roasted cauliflower; twenty minutes after that, entrées were served. Mat had recognized the waitress’ accent and was chatting to her in French in between plates. Cass sipped on her wine, a pinot noir, and took a moment to look around the room, a moment to relax. Two more days, and she graduated. Everything that she had worked so hard for was finally coming to fruition. She still had to pass the bar in July, sure, but for one night — for a few days, really — she was going to let herself finally rest in the ability of her accomplishments.

Dessert was maple bourbon crème brûlée with Sauternes, and Mat may have had a little too much fun breaking the caramelized sugar. Cass was full of good food and conversation; after everyone was done it was after nine. Les, Daniel, and Xavier had decided to get drinks, but Robin had barely slept at all that week, Samaira was going to watch a movie at her boyfriend’s, and Cass and Mat had to wake up early to get her grandparents from the airport. Mat took her hand as they walked towards the subway station. He had parked a few blocks away and offered to drive Cass back to her apartment, but she didn’t want him to go out of his way and all things considered, taking the subway at night had become something of a routine for her.

They walked down Manhattan Avenue, resting in the kind of comfortable silence that only came with being with someone who really gets you. Cass had decided not to take the Hong Kong job the week prior. It was just too much distance from her family and Mat, and while the job seemed interesting enough, it wasn’t the kind of position she thought she could really be happy in long-term. “Have you figured out what you’re doing yet?” Mat asked as they turned the corner. “I’d say you should just move in with me and become a full-time housewife, but something’s telling me that��s not exactly the kind of opportunity you’re searching for.”

Cass laughed, bumping him with her shoulder. “Tempting offer, the housewife thing, but I think I’m going to have to pass. Plus that would necessitate you wifing me up.”

Mat kissed her head. “All in due time, pretty girl.” “But anyways, about the job search.” Cass said, a smile playing on her lips. “I was going to wait until graduation to surprise you, but since you asked…” She paused for dramatic effect. “Chris offered me a job. Permanently.”

Mat stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Chris? Like Islanders Chris? Lawyer Chris?”

She giggled. “Yes. Islanders lawyer Chris. You’re looking at the new Associate Counsel for the New York Islanders, Mat.” Mat damn near hollered in celebration, picking Cass up and spinning her around before pulling her into what was very possibly one of the best kisses of her life. Cass barely took notice of the tourists watching them from the side or her own public display of affection. It was New York City. They had seen weirder.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off of Mat’s chest. He was being honest when he said that he wouldn’t have done anything to get Cass to stay, it just wasn’t his place. But he also would have been lying if he had said it would be anything but heartbreaking to see her leave. It was like he told Tito. Not even giving the future a chance to work itself out would be worse than a breakup. And with any luck, they’d never have one of those either. They rounded the last corner, steps down to the subway in sight, when Mat remembered what he had wanted to ask her but had been interrupted by her news. Her incredible, perfect news. “What would you think about spending some time in Canada this summer?”

Cass, seemingly oblivious, answered, “Oh? Like as a vacation?”

He shook his head. “No, like in Coquitlam with my family.”

“You want me to spend the summer with you and your family?” Cass asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, only if you want to, of course. And I’m not sure when the job with the team starts, or…” He looked down.

Cass smiled. “I’d love to, but are you sure it isn’t too much? I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding on family time, I know you don’t get a lot of time with them since you’re here most of the year. I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to bring me around just because we’re together.”

They stopped by a lamp. Cass leaned up against the post. “Cass. My parents have made it very clear to me that you’re family, and that they’ll have my head if I’m ever dumb enough to let you go.” She snickered. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t intend on ever letting that happen. My family loves you, my sister thinks you’re way cooler than me.”

“She’s got good taste,” Cass said, tilting her head.

Mat laughed. “She does. She told me you guys were texting the other day about the guy she’s interested in, giving her advice. Sure, it was my idea to invite you, but they were so on board from the moment I mentioned it. Plus, my friends back home are getting annoyed with me because they haven’t met you yet with how often I talk about you.”

She bit her lip. “How long were you thinking of staying?”

Mat shrugged. “Leave in a couple weeks, I usually stay two months or so, so until sometime in August?”

“I’d have to fly back to take the bar in July, and I’d still need some time to study while we’re over, but my contract doesn’t start until the end of August, so…”

“You’ll come?” Mat smiled hopefully.

She nodded. “I’ll come. I’ve never been to Canada before, did you know that?”

He shook his head, leaning in and brushing a kiss on her hairline. “You’re going to love it.”

#hockey imagines #nhl imagines #hockey smut #nhl smut #mat barzal #hockey #hockey writing #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #New York Islanders

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lenniewip · 5 years ago

Text

Unknown (A Sterek Wrong Number/Celebrity AU)

11.09 PM Unknown Number

>I’m writing songs about you again.

11.20 PM Unknown Number

>its stiles btw.

>in case you deleted my number

>I did.

>I mean I deleted yours.

>but I still remember it apparently

11:41 PM Unknown Number

>I only have 2 lines so far

11:57 PM Unknown Number

>I bleed you from my veins.

>I grieve you like I love you.

>alone.

>its better with the chords.

>u were always better at writing lyrics than me

12:34 AM Unknown Number

>u were better everything than me

2:00 AM Unknown Number

>I hate that I miss you

2:07 AM Unknown Number

>do u want to hook up?

>I promise not to propose again

2:15 AM Unknown Number

>im sorry.

>ignore me.

>im drinking

Derek blinked bleary eyes. His phone screen was the only source of light in his room, as he read through the flurry text messages.

What the hell is a Stiles?

2:17 AM Unknown Number

<I think you have the wrong number

>Lydia?

<no

>oh thank fuck

>I mean

>I’m sorry

>for disturbing ur sleep

>but im just glad I didn’t drunk text my ex all of this

>bullet dodged right?

>is this what near death experiences feel like?

<I wouldn’t know.

>of course

>hey

>seeming as I have you here can I ask you a quick q?

>all my friends are asleep

<probably because its 3am

<everyone’s asleep

>2.39

>and ur not

>asleep that is

>so?

>I’ll take your silence as a go ahead

>what do you think?

>of the lyrics

<im the wrong person to ask

>never experienced heartbreak?

<no

<all song lyrics just look like bad poetry to me

>oh

>yeah I guess it does

>not everyone can be Rupi Kaur tho right?

<do you want to be rupi kaur?

>sure

>not to be dramatic or anything

>but

>I want to be anyone but me

>think id rather be someone like regina spektor tho

<regina spektor?

>singer/song writer

>shes my fucking inspiration

>her lyrics are like poetry to me

>you should listen to her music

<I dont really listen to music

>what the fuck?

>are you an alien?

<no?

>nice fucking try ET

>thats exactly what an alien would say

<…you got me there

>akdjfen

>is this you admitting I was right?

<no

<but this is me going to bed

<because its now 4AM

>already?

>fuck

>ive got an early start tomorrow

>good night random stranger

>and thanks

>for listening

>or reading ig

<good night

“You’re late.” Laura frowned, arms crossed.

“Are you going to let me in?” Derek grumbled, still feeling the affects of having stayed up until 4AM the previous night.

Laura didn’t argue she just stepped aside to let him through into her flat. “You’re grumpier than usual.” She noted.

“Didn’t sleep well.”

Derek hated the look she gave him then.

The look that said he was broken. The look that said she wanted to fix him.

“Is…Is it the nightmares again?” Laura’s voice dipped to a whisper, like the question alone would be enough to send him over the edge.

“No.”

An awkward silence defended over the two of them, neither knowing what to say.

Derek clung to the silence like a blanket, wishing things could go back to how they used to be. Back to when they knew how to speak to one another.

But this was enough.

It was enough to know that they were both trying. Failing. But trying.

2:40 PM Laura

>I’m here if you need to talk.

Derek isn’t good at art, but sometimes it’s the only way he can express himself. Words had never been his forte.

So instead he doodles.

Shitty toddler level doodles that he never shows anyone.

Sometimes he thinks if he could bring himself to show Laura she would like it. Maybe she would even understand it.

But there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t, and he would feel even more like a stranger to his own sister than he already was.

10:18 PM Unknown Number

>I don’t remember it anymore

<You have the wrong number again

>No

>This is ‘not Lydia’ right?

<right

>So here’s the thing.

>I always thought if I needed to text her I could

>And I thought maybe I got her number wrong because I was drunk

>But I can’t remember it anymore

<Oh.

>I have some of her things still

>I don’t think I’ll ever get to return it now

>Unless she messages me first

<When did you two break up?

>Last year

>and I know what you’re thinking

>’it’s October’

>and I should be over her by now

>Trust me I know

>So you don’t need to lecture me

<I wasn’t going to

>Oh

<Stiles?

>That’s weird

<what is?

>I forgot I told you my name

<You should throw away the stuff she left behind.

>you’re right

>I don’t like it.

>but you’re right

>…thanks

<What for?

>for listening

>reading**

>my friends are pretty sick of hearing me complain

>so this is nice

<sure

<anytime

>dope

>no take backsies

<am I going to regret this?

>for definite

>you’re stuck with me now

That night Derek saves Stiles’ number as ‘Bad Poet’.

Stiles keeps messaging after that.

Stiles messages like they’ve been friends for years, and Derek very determinedly does not analyse why it is he always responds.

Even when there are messages dated from Laura from three days ago that he hasn’t even been able to bring himself to open yet.

He also ignores how when he’s messaging Stiles the gaping pit that had made residence in his chest feels just a little less inescapable.

Derek can’t bring himself to tell Stiles his name. He can’t bring himself open up, even though there’s a large part of him that wants to.

He’s not above admitting he’s scared.

Derek draws Stiles sometimes.

More accurately he draws a vague pair hands texting on a phone, because he has no idea what Stiles actually looks like.

Derek refuses to let himself dwell on that though, because they are happy drawings.

The pictures of Stiles are pretty much his only happy drawings right now.

They don’t always talk about Lydia.

Sometimes Stiles messages Derek song lyrics he’s working on.

Other times it’s memes, or just a bunch of emojis.

Once Stiles had just messaged him what Derek could only assume was a list of everything he had eaten that day.

Sometimes Stiles messages in rambles - and Derek can’t always keep up with the boy’s run away thoughts, but even then he never feels lost the way he does when he’s trying to interact with literally anyone else.

And sometimes it’s 2AM. Those are simultaneously Derek’s favourite and least favourite texts.

2:02 AM Bad Poet

>sometimes I feel like too much

>and too little

>at the same time

>u ever feel like that ET?

<not really

>its like I’m infinite, and meaningless

>like a never ending echo

>or a recurring decimal

>I just stretch on and on forever but theres no point to it

>I have no depth

<youre not meaningless

<you’re a rhythm.

<like breathing

>…

>was that a regina spektor reference?

<it might have been

>I thought you didn’t listen to music?

<well someone said her lyrics were like poetry

<so I thought I would check out a few songs

>well fuck

>what did you think?

<she’s good

>you spelt ‘amazing’ wrong

<I still prefer poetry

>of course you do

Derek stared at the texts an ache filling his chest.

Derek was the opposite of infinite. Everything he touched turned to flames.

10:30AM Bad Poet

<my sister bought me flower seeds

>I didn’t know you had a sister?

<she’s everything I have

>oh

<and I think she’s trying to trick me into therapy somehow

>…with flower seeds?

<yes

>you sound extremely paranoid

>maybe therapy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you?

<shut up

>noted.

>keep me posted on how your gardening goes

>also

>as a side note

>you know you have me too right?

>if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m right here for you

<thanks

>anytime

On Derek’s birthday Laura insists the two of them spend the day together, and Derek knows better than to argue.

She buys him a cake and they spend hours sat next to one another silently. Two strangers desperately trying to keep hold of one another but with an ocean dividing them.

Once their family had been so alive.

And it was all Derek’s fault that was gone.

They both knew it.

Sometimes Derek wondered if Laura hated him as much as he did.

He was too scared to ask.

That night Derek chased the ache in his chest away with a drink.

And then several more followed.

1:14 AM Bad Poet

<seh haars me

>sorry bud, you’re going to have to try again

>try spell checking before hitting send

<she.hates mee

>who?

<larn

>are you drunk?

<yeh

<tyongs ndrf

*Out Going Call: Bad Poet*

The phone rings twice before being picked up. “Sorry. Stupid keyboard is so small. Impossible to type.” Derek mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his cheek being pressed into the sofa cushion.

“Wow. You’re really sloshed huh?”

“No.” Derek denied. “Just tipsy.”

“Right. So what was it you were trying to tell me? Someone hates you?”

“Laura.”

“Who’s Laura?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.”

“She looks at me like she wishes she could fix me.”

“That doesn’t sound like she hates you, bud.”

“She should. I can’t be fixed.”

“You’re right, because you’re not broken.”

Hearing Stiles say that Derek could almost believe it to be true.

“I mean it. You’re not broken. You’re just a different shape than you used to be. But the shape you are now is beautiful.”

Derek closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. “Do you sing?” He finds himself asking.

“What?”

“I know you write songs, but do you ever sing?”

“Oh…” Stiles sounds uncomfortable. “I guess… Yeah. I do.”

Derek hummed in the back of his throat. “I bet you have a nice voice.”

“Th-thanks.”

Derek tried to say something else, but all that comes out is a yawn, which makes Stiles let out a jittery laugh.

Derek tries to memorise the sound of It, but it’s so fleeting, it’s already slipping away from him.

“I think you need to go sleep, ET.”

“Yeah.” Derek agrees.

“Goodnight bud.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Could you stay on the phone? Just for a bit longer.” Derek clutched on to the phone like if he could grip tightly enough it would make Stiles stay.

I don’t want to be alone. The words die on Derek’s tongue.

“Sure.” Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Sleep pulled at Derek’s consciousness, unravelling his grip on reality.

“Stiles?”

Stiles hummed in answer.

“Your shape is beautiful too.”

A small whimper came from the other end of the phone. “Thanks.”

7:50 AM Bad Poet

>how are you feeling today?

<better

>good <3

Derek holds his phone tightly and wishes that he had more to say. Just to keep the conversation going.

He also wishes (not for the first time) that Stiles was more than a faceless entity on the other end of the phone.

But it’s the first time he feels the want like a physical ache in his chest.

Derek had never been good with words, but if Stiles was here in front of him Derek would probably give him a hug.

But everything Derek touches eventually dies, and a larger part of him is relieved for the distance.

Derek plants the seeds his sister got him that day.

9:48 PM Bad Poet

>would it totally weird you out if I wanted to do another phone call?

>don’t feel like you need to say yes

>I just enjoyed talking to you

>and hearing your voice

>ugh.

>why are words so hard?

<I wouldn’t be opposed to a phone call

*Incoming Call: Bad Poet*

“Hey.” Derek feels breathless as he answers the phone, anxious excitement clawing it’s way up his throat.

“Hey.” Stiles sounds equally out of breath, and that helps.

Derek chews on his lip, scrambling for something to say. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “Anything.”

“Helpful.” Derek said sarcastically.

“I mean. There’s one thing. I didn’t want to ask when you were drunk because it felt a little like taking advantage. And I don’t want you to think you have to answer-”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupts before Stiles could break into a full blown ramble.

“Tell me your name.” Stiles breaks. “Please.”

Anxiety grips his heart. But… he couldn’t stay scared forever.

“It’s Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles repeats his name in a reverent whisper, as if committing it to memory.

And hearing Stiles say his name makes everything worth it.

Phone calls become a regular thing between the two of them over the next month. Always between late in the evening and the early hours of the day.

The next time Derek spirals he doesn’t drink before he calls Stiles, but he does cry on the phone.

The next morning he wakes up to a text from Stiles.

6:42 AM Bad Poet

>you need to talk to your sister

And Derek knows he’s right.

It’s not easy confronting Laura. He has two separate anxiety attacks on the walk to her apartment alone.

But he forces himself to take the dive.

“It’s okay if you hate me.” He tells her, even though it’s not okay. Laura’s hate might be the only thing in the world that could break him beyond repair.

Laura looks horrified as she stares at him. “I don’t- Obviously I don’t hate you Derek.”

“It’s my fault that they’re gone.” Derek addresses the elephant in the room.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.

If he hadn’t broken up with her, just to try and prove a point when she refused to say ‘I love you’ back…

There never would have been a fire.

Their family would still be here if it wasn’t for him.

“Fuck that!” Laura let out a harsh noise. “Derek, none of this was ever your fault. You were a kid, and even if you weren’t… You never set the fire.”

“I might as well have.”

“No. If anyone… I was your big sister- am your big sister. But I was so fucking wrapped up in myself. I didn’t even know about Kate.”

The last time Derek had seen Laura cry it had been at the funeral, so it took a second to fully sink in what he was seeing.

He found himself crying to.

“I’m so sorry, Der.”

Derek stumbled forwards pulling Laura into a crushing hug. Laura hugs him back just as tight.

They spend hours refusing to let go of one another.

He realises he fell asleep on Laura’s sofa when he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. But he had no idea where it was, and he was too tired to move.

He feels Laura moving and the sound of the phone ringing gets louder before cutting off abruptly.

“Hello?”

“No - Derek’s asleep.”

“Maybe call at a more reasonable time?”

“Who is this?”

“Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Derek let sleep over take him once more.

2:29 AM Bad Poet

>sorry for calling so late

>you’re asleep so I’ll just take to you tomorrow

9:07 AM Bad Poet

<sorry, I was really tried

>no worries man

>you’re allowed to have a life outside of me

<was something wrong?

>no I was just bored, and didn’t realise how late it had gotten

>im fine

>how are you?

<im good actually

<I spoke to Laura

>yeah?

>I’m proud of you

>how’d that go?

<we both cried

<a lot

<and I ended up falling asleep on her couch

>look at you, opening up and shit.

>think I might cry now

<shut up

>literally never

>better men have tried and failed to silence me

2:40 PM Laura

>Want to see a movie on Friday?

<sure

One night Stiles calls Derek just to say his name in stupid ways, and laugh himself stupid after each one.

“Duhreek.”

“Doreck.”

“Fuck. I’m getting a stitch from laughing.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Derek is smiling as he said it.

“Deeruk.” Stiles wheezes out.

Derek just closes hie eyes and listens.

“I’m so fucking glad I know you, Stiles.” The words fall out of Derek’s mouth without much thought.

He only realises the weight of his words when Stile’s laughter pulls to a stop.

“I uh-” Stiles stammered. “Me too. Fuck. You’re the best thing to happen to me in…so fucking long. I’m glad I know you too Derek.”

Derek finally admits to himself that night that he’d fallen at least a little in love with the stranger from the unknown number.

He keeps trying to draw Stiles, but he can’t. Vague shapes just don’t cut it anymore.

He wants to map Stiles out with his eyes and translate it onto the page.

He wants to be able to see the smile behind the laughter.

He wants.

1:58 AM Bad Poet

>do you think you day we’ll actually meet?

>maybe not intentionally

>maybe one day we’d pass each other in the streets and not even know

>maybe we already have

Derek couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t notice Stiles.

<is there ever a moment when you’re not talking?

<I think id recognise your voice and know it was you

>maybe your face would make me speechless ;)

<I think id still know

<but if you want to be sure… I could send you a picture?

<of me

>dkfajd

>for reals?

>you would do that?

>you?

<well…not for free

>there’s always a catch

>what do you want?

>my soul?

>a blood debt?

>you can have whatever it is

<I meant you’d have to send me a picture too

<geez stiles

The next text takes an unnervingly long time to come through.

>I could do that

>a photo for a photo

>I kind of look like shit rn

>so no judging me

Derek spends the next two minutes fussing and fidgeting to take a good photo. No matter what angle he took it from the bags under his eyes were noticeable, and so was the week’s worth of stubble he had yet to shave off.

And maybe this was a terrible, awful, idea.

But Derek would send one hundred bad pictures if it meant getting to see one of Stiles.

He forced himself to press send on the last picture he took.

As he pressed send another photo came in.

Derek’s fingers shook as he hit the button to download the image.

His heart stopped.

Stiles was beautiful in every sense of the word, and Derek found himself unable to look away. Even when he heard the small dings of incoming messages.

But he couldn’t ignore them for long, because it was Stiles. And when ever Stiles messaged Derek had to answer.

>Fucking hell

>are you for real?

>you gave me a heart attack

>am I being catfished right now?

>when do you think you were going to tell me you’re the most fucking beautiful man to exist ever?

>how the hell to you look like that as 2AM!?

>Derek

>oh my god

>you gotta respond my dude because I’m freaking out a little bit

>still there?

>did my selfie scare you away?

>I would have tried harder for a nice photo if I knew I was talking to an adonis

>Derek?

<still here

>of thank fuck

>so…

<so?

>come on

>your going to give me a complex

>the selfie…was it okay?

>I know it’s not much

>but we can’t all be greek gods

<its beautiful

<you’re beautiful, stiles

>oh

>thanks

Derek is so far gone that he makes the picture of Stiles the home screen on his phone.

9:49 AM Bad Poet

<Laura wants me to meet her boyfriend

<this is all your fault

>how is this my fault?

<because she never wanted to introduce us before

<and then you got me to talk to my sister

<and now she wants me to meet him

>…and this is a bad thing?

<yes

>because?

<I don’t make good first impressions

<it’s going to be awkward

>yeah probably

<you’re not helpful

>I wasn’t trying to be ;)

>have fun, Derek!

Meeting Laura’s boyfriend wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it was going to be. But it was strange.

Derek hadn’t been expecting to meet someone so soft and kind. He was nothing like any one that Laura had dated before.

But he also wasn’t used to seeing Laura smile as much as she did around him.

Maybe not all change was bad.

Derek tells Laura about Stiles by accident. Or more accurately he mentions Stiles once by accident (not even by name) and Laura had badgered him until he admitted that he had made a friend through a wrong number.

“There’s a lot of weirdos out there.”

“I know.”

God did Derek ever know.

But Stiles is different.

“Just…be careful.”

“I am being. I promise.”

Laura reluctantly lets it go after that. “So…what’s he like?”

“He’s…he’s like bad poetry.”

“Oh god. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”

Derek can’t bring himself to deny it, but he does tell Laura to shut up.

Derek fully embraces being in love with Stiles on the day he tells Stiles about his drawings. He’d never told anyone about them before - not even Laura. But telling Stiles had been easy.

‘It reminds me of line art’ Stiles had said when Derek had sent him a photo of the doodle he had been working on. “I love it’.

A warmth flutters through Derek’s veins.

It all goes sideways on the day Laura goes on Derek’s phone to check the time.

She’d raised one eyebrow at him looking amused.

“I thought you didn’t listen to music?” She said, a teasing note to her voice.

“I don’t.” Derek shrugged.

“A huh. So why do you have a picture of Stiles Stilinski as your wallpaper?” She asks.

It’s so startling to hear Stiles name coming out of Laura’s mouth that Derek’s brain refuses to function properly. “How do you know Stiles?” He asks weakly.

Laura laughs. “He’s not exactly a niche celebrity Der. He was a really famous YouTuber before he started selling albums.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. He blinks as his world slowly unravels before him.

No.

She had to be wrong, because Derek couldn’t be in love with a celebrity. Stiles couldn’t be…

“Hey are you okay? You look really sick?”

“He’s famous?” His throat is dry.

“Yes? Are you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve got to speak to me Der. Use your words.”

Derek just shakes his head because he can’t.

“It’s him.” He manages to get out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Laura. It’s him.”

It takes a moment to click but Derek knows when it does because a look of thunderous wrath takes over Laura’s face.

“I’ll kill him.” She seethes, shaking with anger. “What kind of fucking punk thinks that this is a good prank to play?”

“What?”

“No one is getting away with catfishing you, Der. I’m going to hunt this fucker down, and then I’ll rip him so many new ones that he going to look like SpongeBob when I’m done with him.”

And god, Derek hadn’t even considered the thought that Stiles might not even be Stiles. The thought of Stiles being a liar…

The gape in his heart grows a little bit bigger.

And it all falls apart.

It takes hours before Derek can convince himself to confront Stiles.

11:08 PM Bad Poet

<you’re stiles stilinki

>fuck

(And yeah, it was really him).

>how did you find out?

<Laura

>I was going to tell you

<Were you?

>Yes

>I’ve wanted to for ages

>It just never felt like the right time to bring it up

<I wish you had decided on the right time was sooner

>Me too

>I’m sorry

>Please don’t hate me

Derek did not think it was possible for him to hate any part of Stiles.

<I don’t

>Thank fuck

>seriously

>can I call you?

<sure

Derek closed his eyes after sending the text and waited for Stiles to ring. A heartbeat later his ringtone sounded off.

“Hey.”

“You believe me right?” And Stiles sounds more frantic than Derek had ever heard him before.

“I believe you, Stiles.”

“Are you sure, because I can prove it if you want? I can do a video call? Or I can tweet literally anythi-”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Stiles lets out a small whine, that reaches through the phone line and yanks at Derek’s already tattered heart, unraveling him just a little more.

“Meet me.” Stiles said, taking Derek by surprise.

“What?”

“Please. I meant to throw a please in there, I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Meet me please. In real life. I uh- I was going to ask when I finally told you about the whole being a celebrity thing. It’s still weird to say that out loud. That’s part of why it was so hard to tell you. But the point was you beat me to the punch with the whole reveal thing, but I still wanted to ask.”

“Stiles…”

“And it’s not that I was trying to use my influence or fame to pressure you into meeting me. I just wanted to be in a space where we were one hundred per cent honest with one another before I asked you. You can still say no. Of course you can, I don’t know why I’m- my point is I hope you don’t say no.”

Derek feels his heart break in two.

“Stiles…I can’t.”

“Oh.”

He hadn’t fully realised just how many worlds apart the two of them were when he had fallen in love with Stiles. It felt even more impossible than it had before.

“I’m sorry.” The words leave him feeling hollow.

“No. Don’t apologise. This is just me getting carried away. It’s okay.”

I love you. The words never leave Derek. They can’t leave him.

There was no way this could work, and he was far too scared of breaking the tentative connection they had with his useless words.

It was better for him to just… fall out of love.

6:17AM Laura

<it’s really him

>are you sure

<I’m sure

>what are you going to do?

<nothing

>Derek you’re in love with him

<I’m aware

<it doesn’t matter

<it wouldn’t ever work

>I’m sorry

<don’t be

<I’m going to be fine

>Im coming over with wine

That night Derek fills pages and pages of his notebook with drawings of Stiles.

When he gets a message from Stiles at 11PM- for the first time since they started messaging- Derek leaves it unopened.

He never ignores a message again after that, and life moves on. Stiles still messages him all the time, but he never asks to call anymore.

Derek misses his voice so much that he goes onto youtube and listens to his music.

He buys all three albums Stiles released and it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He fills an entire notebook with doodles of Stiles.

It’s still not enough.

1:11 PM Bad Poet

>I wrote you a song

>I know you don’t listen to music

>but it felt weird to not a least send you a link

>bad poetry at 2:00am

The link leads Derek to a youtube video of Stiles holding a ukulele and staring with a soft smile at the camera.

“Hey guys. It’s been a while, huh? But I guess I finally found inspiration. So here we go.”

The song is beautiful, but even more beautiful than that was Stiles.

When the song reached the end Derek doesn’t hesitate to hit replay.

He listens to the song ten times before he realises he’s crying - and he knows that he’s never going to ‘get over’ Stiles because he doesn’t want to.

3:00 PM Laura

>have you seen the video?

<he sent me a link

<he wrote a song for me Laura

<I love him so fucking much and he wrote a song for me

>fuck

<what do I do?

>what do you want to do?

<I don’t know

>I think you should look at his twitter

>I wasn’t going to say anything because you said you wanted to get over him

>but I think you need to see it

>@stilesstilinki

@stilesstilinski

I want to hug him

@stilesstilinski

Get you a guy that will stay up with you until 4AM talking about literally anything

@stilesstilinski

Why do I alway fall for people so far out of my league? rip me I guess.

@stilesstilinski

He makes me want to write poetry

Derek spends hours scrolling through Stiles’ twitter.

He scrolls far enough back that he gets to the part of his timeline where his twitter is littered with pictures of Lydia, which causes the ache in Derek’s chest to grow. But he can’t stop looking because Stiles looks so happy.

And Derek falls impossibly more in love.

He lets himself acknowledge for the first time that Stiles might love him back.

And everything else?

It’s worth it.

Because Stiles is worth everything to Derek.

2:00 AM Bad Poet

<so I looked at your twitter

>fuck.

>how much did you see?

<all of it

>tight

>please excuse me while I go die now

>bye

<don’t leave yet

<I had something I wanted to ask you

>did you want me to delete the tweets?

>I can do that

>I’ll just delete the whole account

>I am my own worst enemy so this won’t be a problem

>actually Jackson Whittemore is my worst enemy

>but I’m a close second

<stiles?

>yup?

<Will you go on a date with me?

>alkdjf

>yes?

>Ofc yes?

>are you being serious?

>because this would be a cruel prank if you’re not serious

<I’m serious

>yes.

>yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes.

>holy shit

>theres no fucking universe where I say ‘no’ to that question from you

>im so fucking in love with you

>is it too soon to say that?

>I don’t even care

>I’m speaking my truth

>you obviously don’t have to say it back

>im going to woo you so hard Derek

>you’ll have to love me back eventually

>I’m going to write you poetry

>hell I’ll even read poetry for you

>ill give the whole fucking moon to you

<why would I want the moon?

<im not gru?

>despicable me

>that was a despicable me reference.

>you don’t listen to music, but you watch despicable me?

>you’re such an enigma to me Derek

>god I love you so much

<stiles?

>too much?

<no

<I don’t think I could ever have too much of you

<I love you too stiles

<so much

<I just don’t want you to get your hopes up

<I might not be able to live up to it in real life

>impossible

<seriously stiles

>I am being serious

>I’m already in love with you Der

>you don’t have to do anything more than you’ve already done

>you could wear a potato sack, and spend the whole night not saying anything at all

>and I would still be in love with you

>all you have to do now is show up

<…I can do that

>perfect

TWO YEARS LATER

@stilesstilinski

Hey @JacksonWhittemore, remember when you told me I would die alone? Well I just got engaged to the love of my life. So checkmate fucker.

#sterek #eternal sterek #what am i even doing?#i just spent the last two days writing this and banging my head against the wall and nothing else #should i write this into a full fic one day?#i probably wont #hope you guys enjoy #sterek drabble #5k words of them being idiots #i cut so much out how is this still 5k?#stiles stilinki #derek hale #laura is the only other character that makes an appearance #im supposed to be sleeping #but here we are ig #texting #wrong number #celebrity stiles

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for-ests · 5 years ago

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Always Enough- Peter Parker x Reader

Okay so this imagine was an anon request that I had previously posted, but I accidentally deleted. I didn't mean to, so here’s a re-upload. Happy finals & sorry my dumbass clicked the wrong button on tumblr mobile because im stupid

Summary (bc the request deleted w/ the post): The reader realizes she had been neglecting Peter because she was stressed over school. Peter thinks there might be another reason because she has become distant. Confrontation and angst follows!

Word count: 2, 360

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Finals were a killer, especially for a nursing major like yourself. The stress of it all made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Cry for hours until you couldn't cry no more.

But that wasn't an option. What you dreamed of becoming, something simple, yet incredibly difficult, was growing out of reach. Your hours of studying had led you nowhere, only to barely tangible grades. Grades that were barely above average. You were disappointed, discouraged, and running out of options.

What else would you do with your life? Becoming a nurse was the only thing you had ever wanted to be, it was all you knew. Ever since aliens rained in the sky, your only motive was to help the ones who couldn't help themselves. But how could you ever hope to do that when you couldn't pass biochem?

What didn't help your anxious mind was the house you had to stress over, and your minimum wage restaurant job that didn't add to your required expertise. Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered you had to lay a payment down on your ever-increasing student loans. Maybe college wasn't for you. Perhaps it was never meant to be. Your summer money was running out and fast.

Just breathe. You repeated. I don't have time to cry.

You could cry after you studied. And right now, you had barely glanced at your flashcards for more than ten minutes. It seemed like you were paralyzed, sitting in bed with your flashcards scattered around you, all of them laid out and waiting for involvement.

Just as you were about to pick up the first card, your phone buzzed beside you. Instinctively, you glanced at it, your heart dropping when you saw Peter's name flash across the screen.

Date. You had a date night, and you forgot.

"Fuck!" You cursed out loud, the tears you had tried so hard to control seeming to burst over your eyelids. How could you forget?

Peter: I'll be there in 15 minutes :D

You replied immediately, glancing at yourself in the phone's reflection. You looked terrible and distraught beyond compare.

Y/N: Peter…im so sorry I forgot, i'm not ready

Peter: oh

Y/N: i have a huge exam soon, maybe its for the best that we rain check? i'm sorry I know ive done this before but im really stressed about it

Peter: we havent talked for days, y/n, i think theres more going on than what youre telling me

Y/N: what? of course not wtf

Peter: im coming over anyways, ill be there soon

Y/N: why?

Peter: we have to talk.

Your heart dropped down to your stomach. Those words were what you had been dreading, and all focus you had managed to gather vanished into thin air. You knew you had been neglecting Peter's affections. Even if every fiber in your being wanted to make him the single most important thing in your life.

It had been almost a week since you'd seen him, and honestly, it was painful in the most innocent way.

But Peter didn't have to worry like you did. He was gifted and already had his entire life ahead of him, set in the middle of Stark industries. But you never asked for a handout, you never asked for help. Even though you knew he was the smartest young man around. You were proud to be his, and the thought of that disappearing was more detrimental to you that failing your upcoming exam.

Y/N: ok, front door is open

Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point. You had been with Peter for over a year and had gone without seeing him for longer, but he was right. This time was different. This was the third date you had canceled without wanting to, but sometimes apologizing wasn't enough. Peter deserved a lengthy explanation of what you were really going through.

You were so used to holding back your emotions, that times like this were an occasional reoccurrence. You had always been so afraid of unloading your burdens onto others that you still sometimes forgot that having a boyfriend came with that perk. He was still going to love and cherish you if you asked for help and advice. Hell, you needed to realize that he wanted to.

That was a factor of why you were so in love with Peter. He always listened, and sometimes, even push the truth out of you when he could tell you needed it.

"You're already crying, huh." A sad smile was on Peter's face as he opened the door. His sudden appearance startled you, and you managed to chuckle despite the circumstances.

"You know me." You sniffled, immediately embarrassed by the state he had caught you in. Instinctively, you brushed your hair to the side and dabbed the tears from under your eyes. You could feel the remnants of Make-up drying to your skin.

"I didn't mean to ruin your study-"

"But we need to talk." You finished, shoving your school supplies to the edge of the bed. You made enough room, so he was able to sit comfortably.

Slightly embarrassed, you kept your gaze averted as best as you could. Just Peter's presence made your heart flutter, and a part of you was trying to prepare for the worst. You might really lose him this time. And for what? Yes, school was incredibly important, so, so important. But so was Peter, and you needed to find a balance.

Your silence was enough to beckon Peter's thoughts into the open.

"I just need to make sure you're still serious… about us." His voice was soft as if it was struggling to stay neutral.

Finally, gaining the courage to look at him, you locked eyes. Peter's gaze was heavy and forthcoming, and it took all of your willpower to swallow the knot in your throat.

"Of course, I am." The conviction was entirely evident in your tone. So much so, that Peter fell silent. His accusations seemed to die in his throat, but he knew that if he didn't get them out now, they would creep back to him later.

"It's hard to tell sometimes," Peter muttered, unable to gaze at your confused expression. You looked so hurt.

Your silence beckoned him to continue.

"I haven't properly talked with you in a week. You've canceled our last three dates… it seems like you never want to hang out with me anymore."

Peter winced. He was a grown man, and he sounded like a child. Yet, he had let so many things slide, hoping you would come around, hoping you would make it up to him. Perhaps he had been selfish to only think of himself in the relationship. He failed to realize that maybe in attempts to please him, you were putting your own future on the line.

"I know you're going through a lot, but you can't even seem to talk about it." Peter's shoulders felt tense, his eyebrows knitting together in an agitated expression. His leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. He looked like he was about to burst.

"I'm sorry." You said, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. Pausing, you tried to gather your thoughts into cohesive sentences that would soothe his anxious mind.

"There's nobody else, right?" He suddenly blurted, actually turning his head to look at you. Insecurity was glazed in his eyes for the first time.

"Why would you even think that?" You said, startled. The question felt as if he had shoved your head underwater and held it there just long enough for you to choke on the liquid.

His expression was blank for the first time. Vulnerability at its finest. "My life isn't perfect, you know. I overthink just like you. I need reassurance."

Peter was so calm, so calm that it worried you. Though you were already afraid of how this conversation would go, it hurt you to realize that this conversation was the result of your actions. You failed to make Peter feel special like you had promised. Like he had promised you. Relationships go both ways, and for the last couple of weeks, it had only gone one.

"No, Peter. There will never be anyone else."

He sighed, relaxing slightly. "You've been acting weird. I don't really know what to think."

"I told you a billion times, I'm studying. After work, that's literally all I do. And I need to focus."

"I feel like there's more. It feels weird to not see a text from you when I wake up. It feels weird to not hear your voice. I don't… I don't like it, Y/N. Even if that's selfish."

And selfish it was. Peter expected you to be transparent while he was hiding possibly the biggest secret in the world. Maybe that was why he was so worried about how much you loved him. Peter wanted to be honest with you. He wanted you to know he was spider-man, but right now, he still couldn't bring himself to. Perhaps he was looking for a reason.

"I'm sorry." Your hands were clenched in your lap. "I've never had to deal with this before. Everything is so new, even if we've been together for a year. I've never cared about anyone like this, and I can't manage my time."

Peter paused as if every word in this conversation pained him to no end. His eyes were glossy, his mind unclear. He was desperately trying to understand why you were isolating himself. "You can't make any time for me?"

"That's the thing, I can't focus on anything else when I'm with you." Your lip quivered. "And that's a problem."

"It's not for me." He said quickly. "I make time for you, and you don't for me. And you need to tell me why."

You glanced away, embarrassed. No matter what you said, the reason wouldn't be good enough. You were just a bad girlfriend.

Peter reached his hand out and pulled you to him. You rested your chin upon his shoulder, soothed to feel his warmth once again. "You need to tell me, Y/N. We've made it work for this long, and all of a sudden, it stopped."

Your body started to shake. Trying to muffle your sob, you brought your hand to your mouth. It was all too much.

"-You have your whole life together, Peter. I have nothing, I still have to work for it. I'm not as smart as you, I'm-"and that's when the tears started to flow. It was a literal flood, tear after tear poured over your eyelids until they were bloodshot, until pressure pounded through your head.

Before you could finish, your face was pressed against Peter's chest. He held you tightly, his sweatshirt dabbing up your tears of sorrow. You gripped tightly to him, releasing the stress that had been building up inside of you for the last two weeks.

He did not know what else to do. Showing you that he loved you seemed like the most viable option. Sometimes all you had to do was listen, and that was enough.

"I got a bad grade on my midterm exam, one that I didn't study for because I spent my time with you—I thought-"

"Shh." He stroked your hair, understanding what you meant without a complete explanation.

"I work so hard, and it's never enough-"

"It's always enough, Y/N."

"I got so caught up in it that I neglected you in the process. So much so that you thought I was cheating on you" you inhaled sharply, whimpering against him, so many different emotions swirling through your mind. "You're the best thing in my life, and I put you second…"

"Look at me, Y/N." He cupped your cheeks in a swift movement, forcing you to look at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are enough for me. That's why I bothered to have this conversation with you. That's why I care." He pressed his lips against your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, Peter." You tilted your head up to kiss him wholly on the lips. You were a mess, but Peter had always told you that you looked beautiful when you cried.

"Rosy cheeks." He whispered, patting down your hair, inhaling your scent, and appreciating the beauty you constantly radiated.

You chuckled, sniffling loudly. Peter always said that after you had a successful mental break down, your cheeks brandished a rosy shade.

"Shut up." You whispered, tightening your grip around his torso. His back fell against your bed, and you shifted to lay completely on top of him. The firmness of his chest underneath you caused instant relaxation, instant relief. Maybe, just maybe, being in his presence was enough to get rid of the stress from everyday life.

The corners of your eyes were raw and red, yet it complimented your shade. Peter vowed from the moment he had met you, that he would never let any harm come to you. The last thing Peter had ever expected was that he might be the reason, instead of the world.

At least, for now, he had the power to fix it. You were the love of his life, and he had never felt so gratified to be in anyone else's presence.

Peter's fingers traced light, small circles on your back. He could hear your heartbeat slow. The softness of your finger against his was enough to help him close his eyes.

He was at peace, real peace for the first time in weeks.

"We need to remind ourselves to talk about shit more." You mumbled sleepy, almost inaudible. "So this doesn't happen again, because I hate it."

"Me too, babe." He whispered, content with watching you rise and fall in sync with his breathing.

"I couldn't bear to lose you."

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker

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belindysthoughts · 4 years ago

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As i approach my 24th birthday in a little over 24 hours (well under by the time i actually post this) I truly just feel this cycle will never end. I’m getting older yet each day, less things make sense and what little hope i have left keeps fading. I’m stuck. everyone is growing up, moving forward and progressing in life and i still feel like I’m barely even 15 in my knowledge and life experiences. What happened to my youth?

i feel robbed of it. i’ve never had a mutual crush. ive never been on a date. ive never been asked out on a date. I’ve never met someone that i actually like enough to ASK on a date or pursue them. ive hardly gone out to a pub or club in the past 6 years i’ve been legally able to do so. (i can literally count on my two hands the amount of times i’ve been) I never had adventures with my friends in my teen years. the trips to the beach, hanging out at the shops or the parks. going for drives to get food. nothing.

sometimes i think im broken. most times i KNOW its not me its just circumstances and how life seems to fall in place. and I KNOW there are people who are about me but i’m not exaggerating i really am an “optional” or “last resort” friend. i know my place in the world. and majority of the time i am so content with that. but i just!!!! want!!! mutual!!! love!!! and!!! respect!!!! sometimes. i want people to genuinely spend time with me, because they want to! not out of obligation or no one else is available at the moment.

I know i can be hard to be around. I know i get annoying and can seem flat and boring because hey, i know i dont have a life so much. I dont have an interesting story about the time i went out with my one of five groups of friends? i dont have an interesting career. i have no juicy gossip on any potential boyfriends i can be pursuing. I dont have or know or do a lot of things. but i try. i’m trying. I hate being so self aware. I hate having the ability to so clearly pick up peoples vibes. because as soon as i know they dont want to be spending time with me or they have somewhere else to be or i can see them losing interest or me boring them, i immediately want to try harder to change the subject or throw things back to them so the vibes can pick up again . because that's what i do best, i thrive off other peoples energy but im so content in being by myself.

I know and am aware of all the possibilities and opportunities i have in the palm of my hand. but most of the time i have no drive or i hold myself back because i don’t want to be experiencing so many things in life on my own. I truly mean on my own by myself. Genuinely i dont mind majority of the time being on my own. But its when others point out how alone i am, or emphasise those facts to make me feel inferior, worthless and less of a human because i don’t have a solid group of friends. even just one or to friends who i am on a mutual friend level with (like theyre my very very good close friends because i only have like 4 separate ones but to them i am only just a friend they see and speak to on occasions). because i dont have boyfriend also, i’m not so bothered by it until everyone starts questioning why i dont have one and why im not out looking or actively trying to get one. i hate nothing more than FORCED interactions and relationships. I sometimes get the sentiment of people “wanting me to be happy” but it will happen when it happens. so many people are out there in relationships, friendships and even families built on fake, materialistic meaningless, forced, ulterior motive foundations. You’re in no better position than i am, because in reality we are all alone. Presenting to have a full, happy life is not the same as actually having one.

Im so tired. I truly am. I keep sitting here wasting my young years, wondering when my life is going to begin. I don’t regret the past 10 years or so of my life but fk honestly. I truly wonder if any of this is real. Everyone's life experiences, their ideas of fun, finding love one day, truly enjoying going out, finding people you genuinely want to be around who feel exactly the same about you. The world is like cracked glass in my hands that keeps cracking more as time goes on. im trying to mend it before it gets so bad but it feels so fragile,the more i try, the closer it actually gets shattering beyond recognition.

I’m scared. I’m exhausted. i am also hopeful. I KNOW things are going to be okay. I’m just sick of feeling like this. im sick of having almost a daily or weekly existential crisis. I just want some sort of stability and certainty in life. I feel so stuck, empty, detached.

I just want to be able to feel again.

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bbbrats · 6 years ago

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hi guys, i know i’ve been pretty inactive lately. throughout this post, i’ll be revealing why i’ve been so spotty and taking so long with the stories.

on november 7th, 2018, my mom kicked me out after a very heated argument. we’d been dealing with very serious issues with each other since i was about nine, im now seventeen. things were fine, but i guess it’s always calmest before the storm, you know.

trigger warning.

long story short, me and my mother have a lot of shit towards each other and resent each other for it, and that night something happened. she was beating me, like actually fist punching me. i was trying to leave but she wouldn’t let me. she had me backed into a corner and was just letting loose. i didn’t know what else to do, so i swung back and then it just got worse.

i’ll spare all the details because it still upsets me to this day. but after she finally let me go (my brother had to pull her off of me), i was bruised and my lip was busted. i packed my shit and i left.

it was around 10pm when this all happened, and i had no where else to go, so i left to my friend’s house.

fast forward about 15 hours, my dad ends up coming to get me, which is what i didnt want. ive never exactly had a relationship with my dad and im at the point where i dont even want one.

for sixteen years my father has been a fucking in and out parent. it was literally so bad that i didnt even contact him for four months before i ended up in the hospital for attempted suicide and body mutilation. and only then did anyone realize that there was something really wrong with me. i needed help, so i got it. he doesn’t believe i have depression and bipolar disorder, but the brain scans don’t lie, do they?

and what upsets me the most is that he doesn’t even know me. not a fucking thing about me, and i have to live with him. and his wife (which isn’t too bad), and his kids (5 year old and 1 year old). his kids are spoiled and don’t listen like EVER. and i mean it’s like, bad.

im literally sleeping on a fucking pullout couch man, going to online school and bored out of my fucking mind and little to no human interaction with anyone except these people that like too call themselves my “family”, yet can’t even tell me what my favorite fucking color is.

and you know what bothers me the most? they’re train of thought. i literally get no support in ANYTHING i want to do. i want to be a youtuber, and make people laugh. i want to write. they don’t support me. my dad has my fucking laptop because i (what my mom said) never listen and fail in school. I just brought home A’s and B’s..? i get yelled and fussed at for nothing. and everyone knows i have serious anger issues.

im starting to think im seriously losing my fucking mind, you know? like i almost broke my hand the other day punching a wall, and a nail was sticking out. i took off about half the skin on my middle finger knuckle.

i honestly don’t know how much longer i can do this. im working two jobs and going to school just to save up money to get out, and i know im not posting too much often nowadays, but it would honestly mean a lot if you guys would just donate to me. not all at once, of course, but just over a span of time. if you can help me out or have a little extra time and thought, just pray for me as well. feel free to message me about updates or how things are going if you’d like to know, but it’d mean a lot if you guys would help me out a bit. thank you in advance to everyone that does, and thank you to everyone that just took the time to like, reblog or even read this.

(also please do not feel sorry for me or anything, i’m a lot better off than some, but I just know I can’t stay here much longer. ill also be putting all my WIPs on hold until i have my laptop back, cause i dont even have a phone atm).

my ko-fi: ko-fi.com/gukshearts

patreon: https://www.patreon.com/gukshearts

paypal: [email protected]

#trigger warning #serious talk #kofi

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gwennhadu-bug · 6 years ago

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Bon Route (part...3ish?)

@alyanette-april 4: Travel

Remember that Alyanette college road trip AU I have in the freezer? I pulled out a chunk of it again! This doesn’t directly follow the first posted installment, but it makes for good, long, dialogue and plotless reading on its own. And honestly, you can start to see why I keep this in the freezer, but how could I not post it for the theme of “travel”...??

“Road trip!” Marinette chirped , following Alya’s rough tug out to their waiting van.

The T&S Boulangerie van was an old white Renault van with their logo emblazoned on the side. Tom had splurged for an automatic van, deciding that it would be less likely to jostle any catered goods on the inside. Alya and Marinette had filled the back with the materials for Rome, of course, as well as their own suitcases. The front seats were ready for a long trip with a blanket and pillow for the passenger, bin of snacks, and plenty of music. Alya had done her research and was as ready for this as she figured she could be.

Marinette’s parents had flown out the night before and it wasn’t hard for their daughter to sneak home, explain the secret plan to their cover shift manager, get the van, and drive it to Alya and Marinette’s apartment early that morning. They still had a few fresh croissants aromatizing the van when the two girls left Adrien and Nino’s place. Marinette jumped into the driver’s seat and Alya buckled in next to her. “Alright, Mari. Recapping our plan… Day one, we’re driving to Chloe’s in Geneva. It’s about a 6 hour drive, but since we need to stop every 2 hours for safety, we’re stopping in...Auxerre, and Saint-Albain. So accounting for the time it takes to stop, we’ll probably be there around...15 or 16 o’clock. An entire evening with Chloé, like you wanted.” She rolled her eyes and added, “For some reason.”

Marinette started the van and didn’t immediately reply. She drove down the street, rolling over the old stone roads and into the busy traffic. With expert confidence, Marinette weaved in and out of the slow or stopped cars, through the old, small side streets. “We owe it to her. She moved away two years ago, Geneva’s only 3 hours by train, and no one but Adrien has visited her once!”

“Because we’re broke university students and she’s a salope,” Alya responded. “This is your right turn.” Marinette turned on to Boulevard Saint-Germain with a pleased sigh. This was a main road, not a side-street, and the van wasn’t as terrifyingly large here. “Take Pont de Sully, then we’re taking a sharp right to Quai Henri IV.”

“She’s not a salope. She’s gotten so much better. She got so much better through all of lycée, you know that!”

“She just learned how to use underhanded compliments instead of outright insults. And don’t you remember all that shit she pulled in lycée? Especially when you first got together with Adrien? No, she was still a salope then.” The car loudly rolled over Pont de Sully and Alya took the opportunity to look out at the Seine. Early morning light reflected over the river, lighting up their city that she wouldn’t see for almost two weeks. Marinette took her sharp right onto the next street. “Okay, we just follow this road until the A4 ramp towards Orly Airport and merge onto Périphérique.”

“Got it,” Marinette answered. Their road took them parallel along the Seine and with early morning Paris traffic, they had plenty of time to admire the city and chew on breakfast. Cars impatiently honked, like they always did on this road, so Marinette dutifully ignored her fellow Parisians’ complaints. “She wasn’t ever nice, I’ll agree. But Alya, you saw her at her worst; before you moved in, she was a pretty sweet girl in Primary school. She just got worse as we got older and closer to college. Maybe that’s why I actually believe she’s improved...I know what she used to be.”

“You sound like Adrien,” Alya complained.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Maybe not to Marinette it wasn’t. Maybe not to the girl who still loved him madly and deeply despite her claims otherwise. Alya sighed, not wanting to answer that. But their conversation didn’t feel finished. “When it comes to Chloé, I think it’s bad. He coddles her too much.”

“Adrien has never once coddled Chloé! He is always trying to make her a better person.”

“Marinette, Chloé has spent the majority of every year since I’ve met her trying to make my very best friend, which is YOU, by the way, miserable. I won’t apologize for not trusting her.” She turned away from Marinette, looking out her own window at the city instead. Eventually, she spoke up again. “Here’s your exit. Okay, follow this for 2 kilometers, then take the A6B exit.”

Marinette seemed a little visibly stressed at this point. She had told Alya many times as they prepared that she had never driven outside of Paris...beyond quick catering errands for her parents within tight, slow-speed city driving, Marinette didn’t drive much at all. But neither of them wanted Alya as the first driver at 7 am in an unfamiliar vehicle. Picking up on that, Alya kept quiet except for instructions. “Keep going here….yes, just keep on A6B. 8 kilometers here.”

“Eight kilometers?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a while…” Marinette agreed, her voice cautious. She seemed distracted by all the graffitti to the point that Marinette chirped in surprise when the van zoomed into a tunnel. But soon enough they were back in a small, one-lane road, speeding through the suburbs of Paris. Buildings were suddenly newer, smaller, and farther apart. Trees began to appear. “Okay, I think I’ve got this,” she finally said, a little more confident.

“Good, because our next exit is coming up in about a kilometer. Just stay to the left- follow the signs towards Lyon.”

Marinette leaned forward to read their approaching exit sign more clearly. “A6?”

“That’s it!” Alya looked back at Marinette and smiled, seeing her friend with a proud smile on her face.

“This is officially the farthest I’ve ever driven,” Marinette announced.

“Then I need to document this,” Alya said. She opened up her camera and panned the outside ‘scenery’ of graffitied highway walls and scrubby brushes. “We have just left Paris and are about to get onto highway A6. Marinette just announced...mind saying it again, Mari?”

“This is officially the farthest from Paris that I’ve ever driven!” Marinette turned to Alya and grinned, then dramatically flipped her blinker to the left and veered towards their exit.

“That’s amazing! But it was only thirty minutes!”

Marinette laughed. “I didn’t say the longest. I said the farthest.”

Alya grinned at Marinette’s wide smile. “Well, buckle up sugar, because our next turn isn’t for another 158 kilometers. Road trip!”

“Road trip!” Marinette screamed out. She laughed in delight. Next to her, Alya closed the recorder app. She could get more footage later on. “What about you, Alya? What’s the farthest you’ve ever driven?”

“Rouen. Two hours away, just past Giverny, with Alix. But I’ve gone on a lot of road trips with my family before I was 18. My longest was...When I was Ella and Etta’s age, my family took us from Rennes to Provence. God, they were both babies at the time. Do not drive twelve hours with toddlers, Marinette.” Alya’s eyes were wide and she shook her head. “I don’t remember much about that trip, but I remember that. Nora and I were basically babysitting the whole drive. Well, she was. I probably just complained about it.”

“So the real lesson is don’t take toddlers and you on a twelve hour road trip,”

“Excuse me,” Alya laughed, “I was ten! Give me a break, young lady!”

“Are you sure you won’t be complaining the entire time on our road trip?” Marinette teased, raising an eyebrow.

Alya couldn’t hold back her smile. “I’m sure,” she answered. “You are much better company than twin toddlers, Mari,” Alya added, reaching out to rub Marinette’s forearm.

Marinette’s smile in reply was wide and comfortable. “That’s not a very high bar, but I’ll take the compliment anyway. We don’t go on vacation very often. Maman and Papa hate leaving the boulangerie...I can only imagine how much Mami had to fight them to leave for this week,” Marinette said with a heavy shake of her head. “When we would go places, it was by train or plane. To visit family, usually...Flew to China, took a train to Central-Pays...I’ve been to Italy once before; it’s a lot faster by train. But this way we have all our stuff.” She turned to look at Alya for a moment. “And I have you!” Marinette added in a squeaky voice of delight before looking back at the road.

“You could go on a train with me too, Marinette,” Alya laughed.

“Sure, but this is much more cinematic. We get to look at all the scenery!” The two of them were still on the edges of the Paris Metropolitan area, passing signs for communes like Evry. “Like Disneyland!” Marinette explained, waving her hand at the brightly colored exit signs that they promptly drove right past. “Have you been to Disneyland?!”

“Of course I have; I’m not an animal,” Alya scoffed. “It’s been a second, though.”

“We should go together some time!”

Alya smiled, looking out at the Disneyland signs. She could imagine Marinette skipping and singing along to the music in Disneyland, wearing mouse ears, holding her hand, watching fireworks with Alya…”We should,” Alya agreed, feeling like she was digging her own grave with every romantic fantasy.

“But that one we’ll take the train for. After all, we’re not animals,” Marinette laughed.

“This isn’t exactly scenery, by the way,” Alya told Marinette with a giggle. “It’s ugly stores and graffitti and crummy houses.”

“It’s different than Paris,” Marinette defended. “Look! There’s...nature and stuff out that window!”

“Nature and stuff?” Alya repeated with a laugh. “Oh, my god, Girl. You know we’re going to be driving to the literal Alps today, right?”

“Exactly!” Marinette replied, hopping up and down in her chair. “Nature and stuff!”

“We’re not at at the alps yet. We’re just getting into the rural part.” Alya looked over at Marinette with a gentle, loving smile. “This part is going to be boring.”

“Please, Alya. It won’t be boring. You’re in the car.”

Alya felt her throat tighten and Marinette looked straight ahead. “I should record more for montage-ing.” She pulled out her phone, recording the fields and farms that they now drove through in silence. “Let’s, uh...put on some music,” Alya decided. She had made a playlist for their road trip, but suddenly got a wicked idea. “I know exactly what to listen to until we get to Auxerre.” She opened up her music app, flipping past the dozens of playlists Nino had made for her or sent her, finally deciding to use the search function again. “Weeee are going to listen to Clara Nightingale’s Miraculous album.”

“Yes!” Marinette gasped in amazement. “Oh, god, I don’t think I’ve listened to that since college!”

“Marinette, I live with you. That is a bald-faced lie. You mean no one else has listened to that since college.”

“It’s not like I know the words anymore, though. It’s such a- YES!!!!”

Alya laughed in delight. The moment the first note of the first song trilled out in peppy, poppy major key, Marinette was singing along to the instrumentals and drumming on the steering wheel. And that adorable liar knew every word.

The two girls sang along to the pop anthems of their teenage years, crooning our to one another dramatically, drumming the dashboard and steering wheel, even rolling the windows down to sing at passing cars. At least until they passed pastures of cows: the windows rolled up real fast right then.

When the titular song, “Miraculous”, played, Alya screamed in delight. “Marinette! It’s your song!”

“Oh, god,” Marinette laughed. “That was an insane day. I’m glad it just ended up being Everyone's song.”

“Don’t lie, Mari. You would have loved to have a song with Adrien back then. The Ladybug to his Chat Noir,” Alya fluttered her eyelashes, adding, “they did get together, after all. For a little bit.”

Marinette squinted as she drove forward. “Was that ever really official though? I mean, you never reported on it.”

Right, because Ladybug and Chat Noir had both specifically asked Alya not to. “Do you mean the relationship or the breakup? Because they were caught kissing like, a lot.”

“People kiss!” Marinette sputtered.

“I don’t know many people who kiss their friends like that,” Alya laughed. If she kissed her friends like that, Marinette would absolutely know. “And That DID end up on the Ladyblog. I know because you nearly had a conniption.”

“I just want to make sure you’re reporting factual, hard-hitting news! Not… gossip!”

“Yeah, I know, we had this exact argument two and a half years ago,” Alya laughed. “There’s nothing there for me to report on anymore. Hardly anyone sees the Miraculous heroes out together.”

Marinette was quiet for a moment, letting Clara Nightingale sing her sad song and fill the car with music. Then she said, “would you report on it? If some of them got together? Romantically?”

“I’d secure an exclusive interview and do it that way.” For some reason, Alya’s answer amused Marinette. “That’s what I always try and do,” she continued. “The Ladyblog functions the way it does because the Heroes trust me, so I need to keep that trust. It’s more important to maintain a trusting, professional relationship than to run a gossip piece.”

“That’s very mature of you, Alya.”

“It’s cause I’m a fuckin adult now,” she said, putting her feet up on the dashboard and grinning wildly at Marinette. “Adults are mature and shit.”

“You’re usually more of the ‘and shit’,” Marinette giggled.

“Hey! Pétasse!” Alya yelled, throwing a crumpled croissant napkin at her best friend.

Marinette squealed in giggles. The song continued in the background and Marinette exclaimed, “This is your part!”

On cue, Alya performed the tiny segment of the dance where she had been filmed...at least the part that involved her arms. “It was pretty cool. But I still think you would have been amazing as Ladybug.”

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Really? You weren’t just saying that?”

“No, girl. You totally have the Ladybug spirit and look down.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you...wasn’t she your celebrity crush?”

“Putain, she still is!” Alya laughed easily. She wasn’t dumb; she knew she was just as likely to land someone like Ladybug as she was to land a straight girl like Marinette. Even if Ladybug saw her as Rena fairly often...that was too big of a fish to try and catch for real. Ladybug wasn’t exactly the warm and cozy, ‘talk about our feelings’ type and still demanded no one tell each other their identities. It was largely why she didn’t let her feelings for Ladybug deepen. But that didn’t mean her attraction hadn’t. “Have you seen her new outfit? And the way she’s grown into it?” Alya whistled low.

She looked over at Marinette and saw her friend’s face was quickly turning scarlet...probably embarrassed by Alya’s gay talk. So she upped the ante, staring right at Marinette. “I mean, damn. She looks mature now, not an innocent little girl. Someone who can consent and downright control. Those little black spanx she got now? Over that ass?” Marinette turned even redder. Alya grinned. “And her fucking legs. Ladybug is strong as hell, but her legs...she redefines thick. She could crush a watermelon between those thighs. And let me tell you, I would love to be that watermelon crushed betwee-”

“Look, our exit sign!” Marinette squeaked, her voice several octaves higher than it normally was.

Alya grinned, pleased that she won their unofficial game of chicken. “Coq a l’ane,” she muttered at the abrupt subject change, smiling as she noticed the sign for Auxerre. She turned her recording back on and pointed it out the window. “Take a look at that! We’re only 5 kilometers from the exit to Auxerre! It’s 9:30 am, and we are making great time. What do you have to say, Marinette?”

Marinette grinned at the camera, her face slowly returning to its normal coloration. “I am ready to get up and stretch; that’s what I have to say!”

“And see the town?”

“Yes, and see the town. It’s supposed to be very pretty, right?”

“Sure is!” She could have kept filming Marinette- god knows she was prettier than the scrubby brush and trees around them. But she turned the camera frontwards anyway, hoping to catch more of the signs as they went. The music played on in the background, Alya and Marinette singing along again as Marinette took the exits into town.

Past a round-a-bout, trees hung over the street (Marinette squealed in delight) and the scenery quickly changed to include more buildings of varying ages. Alya recorded the sights of the town as they drove through, as well as a few shots of her very excited friend. She took a third exit at a roundabout, following the road until they drove next to the Yonne river. Marinette looked from the river to the other side and gasped. “Marinette, the car! You took your foot off the gas. There are people behind us...the car!”

“Oh...oh, shit. Right!” She gassed the car again and quickly found a parking place, then bounded out of her seat before Alya could even narrate what was going on. Marinette bounced up and down.

“She is so cute,” Alya laughed. She got out of her own seat and took a nice, slow pan of where they were. On one side of the girls, the beautiful, narrow Yonne river glittered with boats moored along the edges. Across the river were charming white houses with red-brick roofs and trees, trees, and trees as the horizon line. Blue skies and puffy clouds soared overhead, not tall buildings or intimidating history. On the other side though, it was a sight to behold. The buildings stood side-by-side, only visibly unique from one another by their white stone French coin corners. They were all topped in gorgeous tudor woods of bright colors- reds, yellows, and browns. A cathedral towered just above that view. Gothic, like the cathedral the girls grew up with, but so unfamiliar and so unique and so, so much larger and more impressive in this relatively small town. “And this is Auxerre! What a pretty medieval town!” Alya narrated.

Just on time, Marinette came bounding back into the camera’s view. “Auxerre!” she cheered. “Look at the cathedral! And the river! And the tiny, tiny buildings! Let’s explore, Alya! How do we park?”

“Marinette, we already parked.”

“No, I mean...where do we register to park here?”

Alya giggled. “Mari, we don’t. It’s free. We just leave the car and walk.”

“Oh. That seems...wrong.”

“Welcome to literally anywhere but Paris!”

“Okay, then. Let’s go!” Marinette rushed forward and grabbed Alya’s hand, pulling her towards the bridge over the Yonne river. She was giggling the entire time as if this poor girl hadn’t gotten out of the city for years.

Once Marinette pulled Alya to the center of the bridge, they both turned to face the city and gasped. Alya put up her phone, recording the view. Just across the river and reflected into it stood a wall of two-story medieval buildings. Stone, tudor, and charming. The cathedral and nearby clocktower stood above them, providing a beautiful postcard view...and one that could fit on said postcard. Yes, the city sprawled to the sides, but not in any overwhelming fashion. It was all Right There.

Alya dictated to her camera a little bit of information about Auxerre, then turned to film Marinette. But her friend was sitting cross-legged on the bridge, sketchbook in hand and tongue partially out of her mouth as she sketched the skyline. She smiled softly and turned off the video. It might be awhile.

Alya sat herself down next to Marinette and looked over at the city across the Yonne. It wasn’t a small city by any means; one of the largest in the area. But compared to their home, it was a hamlet. And Marinette was truly inspired. Alya loved to watch Marinette work. Their work ethic had always been one of their earliest connections; few other girls in college would spend hours working on their professional dreams. And as they got older, Marinette was the good influence Alya needed and vice-versa. Even now on vacation, Marinette couldn’t stop her mind from creating and taking inspiration.

They sat together as dozens of people crossed the bridge around them for almost twenty minutes; Marinette drawing under the morning sun, Alya watching the city, the water, and reviewing her videos so far. Finally, Marinette sighed in satisfaction and shut her sketchbook. “Let’s keep exploring.”

“Excellent. And we’re not leaving here without buying a good Burgundy wine!” Alya stood up and offered a hand to help up her friend.

“Fine with me, Alya!” Marinette cheered. “To the clocktower?”

“Absolutely. It’s calling to you, isn’t it?”

Marinette turned to Alya and smiled the way she did when she was in love with an idea. “I’ve not seen anything like it before. I can’t wait to meet it!” She squeezed Alya’s hand and turned to the city, tugging her friend along.

They wove in between people, down alleys, past old shutters and painted doors, around cafes, and up to the clocktower. Alya filmed the entire time, recording all the details of their exploration and the girls’ comments on the old town. She filmed the clock tower, then eventually their visit to the cathedral, Marinette’s scathing commentary on the outside of one of the local boulangeries (as well as her apology after seeing the interior and buying a baguette), their experience buying some fresh, local Morbier cheese and sliced meat, and finally handed the camera over to Marinette so Alya could pick out the Burgundy wine.

Exploring Auxerre, Alya felt like she and Marinette were free for the first time in a long time. They had no home to take care of, no careful relationships to dance around, no schoolwork to feel guilty over. And everything was new. Every building they saw, it was the first time for both girls, and every shared experience was taken while hand-in-hand. It ended up being nearly two hours later before the girls finally realized they ought to eat their lunch and get back on the road. Still, they meandered their way back to the van, pointing out tiny details in the city and the old stones beneath them.

Having parked near a patch of grass, they did not have to go far to eat their picnic lunch. Marinette carried the fresh purchases over to the grassy knoll while Alya rummaged in the back for their cooler.

Trixx poked her head out, taking a look at their new city while finally away from Marinette. “Wow, pretty place! Did you like it here, Alya?”

“You know, I did. Marinette got a real kick out of how trusting all the citizens are. She fits right in with that part...And the streets are really fun to explore.”

“Didja get me ice cream?”

“No, not this time,” Alya laughed. She bent over and picked up their cooler and shut the van back doors. Turning back around, she could see Marinette fussing with their fresh food and talking to herself. “Let me get you some cream before we go over, though.” She kept her eyes on Marinette as Aya bent into the cooler, pulled out a small pop-top jug of cream fraiche, and handed it to her hungry kwami. Trixx took it in both hands, knocking the drink back as she floated in the air as guzzled. Soon enough, she handed the remaining half back to Alya with only a semi-satisfied pout.

“It’s not ice cream.”

“I told you it wasn’t! Just...trick yourself.”

“I can’t trick myself, Rena. It doesn’t work like that. Pah. You’ll just have to make it up to me with some really great ice cream in your next stop.”

“Hey! You don’t even get ice cream every day in Paris. Don’t get greedy, ya little punk!” She took a single finger and pushed Trixx back into her shirt, making Trixx giggle in fake protest. Then, Alya looked back up at Marinette. She had finished laying out their fresh food, only waiting on the fruit, butter, cutlery, cookies, and drinks in Alya’s cooler. Marinette’s back was turned to Alya, the sun directly overhead, as she looked at the shimmering river.

Alya carried over the cooler quietly, not wanting to disturb Marinette. But still, when she was closer, Marinette looked over her shoulder, readjusting her cascading raven hair, and smiled softly at Alya. “This was a great place to stop,” Marinette cooed. She patted the grass next to her.

And Alya absolutely did not want to continue her vlog. She wanted a moment alone with Marinette, to enjoy their picnic, their quiet moment away from the town and all the Auxerre people who had been so kind. But regardless, she pulled out her camera, recording with great animation all the fresh Burgundy region delicacies they bought for their sandwiches. At Marinette’s absolute insistence, the wine remained corked, since they planned to drive.

Lunch consumed half their baguette, most of their Morbier, all of their meat, and only about fifteen minutes of their time. And then they packed all their leftovers into the cooler and headed back to the van.

“I’ll take the next leg,” Alya promised. She filmed their approach to the van but nearly dropped the camera when Marinette tossed her the keys. “Auxerre to….Saint Albain, two hours away. It’s 12:30 now, so if all goes well, we should pull in about 2:30.”

“Wait, we need gas,” Marinette corrected, “so don’t pull onto the highway just yet.”

Alya handed her the camera. “We’re supposed to film the road trip side to this all, so make sure you get as many hilarious shots of me as possible.” And so, the start of the second leg began with Alya lurching forward in the van and pulling through a local gas station.

Marinette dutifully recorded the monotony of Alya putting the nozzle of gas in the van, also catching her amused smile when she saw the camera turned on her. “You’re recording this, Mari?”

“It’s a crucial part of the road trip experience! It isn’t all Clara Nightingale sing alongs and climbing clocktowers,” Marinette explained.

Alya smiled and leaned against the car. “I guess you’re right. I’m not sure if I should be proud you’ve learned to be so thorough in recording from me, or a little embarrassed.”

“You should be proud! I couldn’t have a better teacher,” Marinette gushed. Alya looked down, hoping to hide her blush. Enough Buzzfeed watchers were already shipping Alya and Marinette and she didn’t want to give them any more ammo.

That was a lie. Alya was captain of that fan club and absolutely hoped this trip included as many moments between them as possible. But still. It carried a little weight of embarrassment back at the office.

“So you learn to record everything in your life from me and I learn to be a little more coordinated in my outfits from you. That seems symbiotic,” Alya decided aloud.

“And you’re lucky you have me, Alya. You do well dressing for yourself sometimes, but the level of sophistication…?”

“Is this a crack at my flannel plaid?” Alya asked, putting a saucy hand on her hip.

Marinette laughed. “It absolutely is! You look like a Canadian lumberjack!”

Alya shook her head. “You will pry my flannel out of my cold dead hands. It’s my mating display for fellow gays!”

“Oh, please. You don’t need to dress a certain way to attract girls,” Marinette disagreed.

The gas clanked with completion. Scoffing at Marinette, Alya unplugged the nozzle and hung it back up. “Like you know squat about that. I’m actually queer and need all the help I can get.”

“I just think you can get a girlfriend in any outfit, Alya,” Marinette explained, fussing with Alya’s collar with one hand, holding the camera loosely with the other. She returned to behind the camera, leaving her best friend breathless. Marinette returned to the passenger seat, camera still in hand, giving Alya just enough time to compose herself and return to the driver’s seat.

They pulled away from the gas pump and to the pay station, Alya rolling down her window as the young man gave them their price. He leaned a little farther out, looking at their van. As Alya fiddled around for the card with Mami Dupain’s stipend on it, he said, “So, you ladies are from Paris? Where are you two taking this big van?”

“Rome,” Alya replied, handing the attendant their credit card.

“Rome! Ahh, what do they say there? Belladonna. You’ll fit right in, my belladonna.” He ram the card and winked at Alya. She forced a smile and heard Marinette giggling behind her.

As she accepted the card back, she said, “Yes, I hear the eligible crowd is much more on our level there in Rome than you find in gas stations.”

“Uh...well, bonne route,” the attendant said, clearly a little shaken at Alya’s clap back.

Marinette was giggling even harder. But still, both girls chorused ‘thank you’ and the van eased back onto the main road, headed for the highway. “That poor boy did not know what he was doing when he hit on you. La pauvre! But he totally proved my point, before you killer him,” Marinette laughed, “you’re hot stuff! You can get it!”

“And that’s why I need the plaid!” Alya fired back. “I don’t want dudes like that to hit on me. I want girls to hit on me! I can get guys all I want. But a gay shirt says ‘you’re barking up the wrong tree’ and I like that.”

“Then why not something else, like...like an American undercut?”

Alya looked over at Marinette questioningly, then back to the road. They were approaching a roundabout with their exit towards the autoroute clearly marked, fields visible after their exit. “You think I could pull that off?”

“Well, I would never tell you to cut your hair, Alya. You have the most beautiful hair of anyone I know. Color, texture, softness...don’t cut it,” Marinette gushed. “But you could make any hair style look amazing.” Out of the corner of her eye, Alya could see Marinette panning the camera to show off her hair. “Now flip it, like a shampoo commercial.”

“Girl, you don’t need to ask twice.” Alya tossed her hair; the bounce was restricted by her headrest, but it made Marinette giggle, and that was more important than any video clip.

“What about me? Do you think I could pull off an undercut?”

Alya imagined it in her mind's eye. And as Marinette appeared before her with short hair, pushed to one side with that gorgeous fringe, the other side shaved, looking every centimeter as someone who wasn’t straight and every centimeter hot as hell, her throat tightened and legs squeezed together. Alya cleared her throat as casually as possible. “Yes. Yes, you could absolutely pull it off. You should. You should get one.”

“A few kids in my major have fun haircuts like that. I’ve had this length for years...maybe I should do something dramatic.”

“Yes. It will be amazing. Yes, girl, do it.”

Marinette sounded newly confident and she replied happily, “maybe I will!”

“Just be prepared to have to crawl through suitors because damn, you will look hot.”

“That’s the idea of a haircut, right? Attracting people?”

Alya laughed thickly. “Babe, you have never had a problem being attractive. You are the prettiest girl I know.”

“You’re my best friend. Unfair and biased.”

“Nuh-uh, girl. Gay’s honor; I’m saying that as someone very sexually attracted to the female gender. You are attractive as hell.”

Marinette flushed pink and Alya wished she wasn’t in the driver’s seat. She loved to watch how her face changed with a pleasant blush. “Well, Thanks, Alya.” She fiddled with the camera and Alya knew she’d have to edit that part out. The car was silent for a moment, neither girl exactly knowing how to follow that kind of remark. Usually when Alya said something like that, there was more than fields and empty sky around them. Here, all they had was the toll booth.

They pulled into the toll booth kiosk and Alya grabbed their ticket, ready to be punched when they got off the highway eventually. Taking the opportunity, Alya changed the subject. “Alright, back on the road for another two hours!” Alya cheered.

Marinette looked up from the map and shut the app. “Yep, and we just stay on A6 until we get to Saint Albain. No exits, even. Just….lots and lots of fields.”

“Aw, not all fields. There are some forests.” Alya grinned impishly.

Marinette didn’t reply, but shut off the camera and pulled out her sketchbook. She flipped a few pages and said conversationally, “I liked Auxerre. That was a cute little city.”

“Yeah, it was,” Alya agreed. “It reminded me of the small towns around Rennes.”

Marinette gasped lightly in recognition. “Oh, I bet it did. They’re both very medieval. The tudor, the small streets…” she flipped past her Auxerre drawings and to a new page. “I think I could live in a city that size.”

“Yeah? Wow, I can’t imagine you anywhere but Paris,” Alya admitted, eyes forward.

“I usually can’t either. Paris is my home. It’s my inspiration, it’s who I am, and it’s what I do. But sometimes those rent prices...you know? I wonder how much more comfortable it would be to live in a smaller town where you get to know more of it. Mainly with less tourists.”

“I thought you loved tourists! You’re like the only Parisian I know who doesn’t get mad at them!”

Marinette shrugged. “Everyone in Paris, almost everyone, is there because they love it. We have that in common, so...I can excuse some bad manners. I mean, most of those manners are just people not understanding our culture. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like having more people who know what they’re doing. But they still deserve to experience the city I love!”

Alya sighed. Was it even possible for Marinette to be so loving? So kind? To absolutely everyone?? “Damn. You are something else, girl. You are incredible. If you do leave Paris for a place like Auxerre, the entire city’s level of kindness is going to sink like a rock. Murder will sky rocket! People will fight in the street for no reason! Ladybug and crew will have to work overtime and the Fashion Headquarters of the world will move from Paris to whatever buttfuck city you’re in.”

Marinette giggled, hiding briefly behind her sketchbook. She opened a blank page and started sketching. “I don’t know if I’d ever really move, though. Especially since it really is Fashion Headquarters and no matter what you say, that isn’t changing. But traveling more like this would be nice. Would you ever move?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. My career isn’t tied to Paris or any city; it’s actually best if I get a wide variety of experiences for my writing. I’ve lived in Paris way longer than any other city, so it’s weird to imagine leaving. And I don’t think I could leave you. Or our other friends.” It was really just Marinette. No part of Alya could imagine living without Marinette. She didn’t even want to return to a world without her as a roommate...she wanted to spend the rest of her life bumping sleepy elbows as they brushed teeth, taking turns doing dishes and making dinner, and cuddling much too close on the couch for movie nights.

Fuck, she probably should move out of Paris one day.

“Where would you move?”

“New York City would be fun! Or Los Angeles!” Alya answered automatically. They had played this game before. But life as university students gave the girls different perspectives than they had in lycée and collège. “But definitely a bigger city if I can afford it. Although I can see the appeal of a smaller town, depending on who is with me.”

“Who is with you?”

“You know, if I get in a serious relationship.”

“What do you mean ‘if’? Gas station man and I both just proved you are totally going to find love.” Marinette leaned into Alya’s space, grinning as she crooned in a low, sexy voice, “Belladonna, Belladooooonnaaaaa,” And it was absolutely unfair that her breath on Alya’s cheek and that low voice could make Alya squirm and make her foot push down just a little bit more on the accelerator, but what part of life was ever fair?

“Weirdo,” Alya said, trying to laugh it off as she put her entire hand on Marinette’s face and pushed her away. Her favorite tinkling giggle replied. “I’m just saying, you’re my most stable, longest relationship and that isn’t exactly what I meant.”

“At least you have dated. You were with Victoria for awhile...seven months, wasn’t it?”

Ahh, yes. Victoria. The third Marinette clone in the two years since they started university. Her second longest relationship after Nino, and also one of the most hollow. “I’m not marrying Victoria,” Alya sassed back.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that you’ve actually had real, important relationships. I’ve dated Adrien and...oh yeah, that’s it. One lycée romance and nothing after that. Just some first and second dates.”

Nine first dates, to be exact, and five second dates. And if she was pressed, the stubborn part of Alya’s brain could probably recall every single one of those boys’ names. “Marinette, if there is one thing on Earth that I know, it’s that you’re going to be just fine in the romance department.”

“Alya, that’s so sweet, but you don’t really know that…”

Alya turned towards Marinette and looked at her seriously, just over the top of her glasses. “But I do know that, Mari. You are incredible, amazing, and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. You make the world a better place and you make every person you know a better person. Any b-boy,” Alya cleared her throat twice, determined to cough out all the emotion that was trying to betray her. “Any boy would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.”

Alya was very glad that she could keep her eye on the road and avoid the intense look Marinette was giving her now. “Thank you, Alya,” she said softly. “You’re the best hypewoman a girl could have.”

Gripping the steering wheel a little too tight, Alya replied, “Yep, that’s me. The best damn hypewoman around. I’m printing business cards and everything.”

“I’ll design them for you!” Marinette offered, turning the page in her sketchbook and making the broad strokes Alya recognized as the start of a new design. “Alya Cesaire...Hypewoman. What other titles do you want? Journalist, obviously. Hmm...Ladyblog Editor in Chief… best friend in the world...wearer of amazing hair...Actually, we’ll run out of room on the card if I list all of your great qualities. That’s what the resume is for, right? We’ll just focus on the hypewoman part.”

“I expect 5,000 of these printed and embossed for all my future employers.”

“What, you don’t plan on a life-long career at Buzzfeed France?” Marinette asked, mirth in her voice. “But I was so looking forward to your article on ‘Which Character from Asterix am I Most Likely To Meet In A Shady Bar’!”

“You’re a shady bitch, Marinette. You know that?”

“I thought I was incredible and amazing! Alya, where is your consistency?”

“You’re all three things!” Alya laughed.

The girls continued to talk about cities, moving, and life and slowly, the conversation grew sillier and sillier. Topics flew by almost as fast as the fields and forests.

They had a long drive ahead of them and many, many more conversations to have.

#alyanette april #alyanette #fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

1112lw · 5 years ago

Note

Every question!!

SDFFSDFG DAM OK SIS

LONG POST AHEAD IF U LITERALLY WANNA KNOW ME PERSONALLY JUST READ THIS LMFAO

1: Name: Arche/Jupiter, my close friends know my real name so!

2: Age: High school has just been done so try to guess

3: Fears: Heights, oral presentations, the dark

4: 3 things I love: Drawing, men- concept art n stuff like that

5: 4 turns on: Oh here we go- uhh thighs, messy hair? when they give u The Look or when they. say things i will not talk about here HHGBDF n uhhh Arms 👀👀

6: 4 turns off: weird macho attitude, overly confident bullshit, being selfish and fuckboys in general

7: My best friend: not sure what this means but my bff is named Daphnée n i love her and ive known her my whole life so

8: Sexual orientation: homosexuale

9: My best first date: :))))))) as if

10: How tall am I: sigh. I’m 5″4

11: What do I miss: sometimes i miss the feeling loved ig

12: What time were I born: 12:19

13: Favourite color: pink!

14: Do I have a crush

15: Favourite quote: My senior quote!! “if what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, I’m telling you I’m immortal”

16: Favourite place: well? my room ig? I like my yard too

17: Favourite food: ugh ramen,,,korean dishes are TASTE as fuck but i also like classic ass spaghetti so like lol

18: Do I use sarcasm: does it look like i dont

19: What am I listening to right now: dr.phil LMFAO

20: First thing I notice in new person: Hair and eyes!! also how they laugh

21: Shoe size: Like. a 7-8 in women’s 6 in men’s

22: Eye color: Hazel/Golden yes bitch let me be special

23: Hair color: it’s either dark brown or golden brown idk

24: Favourite style of clothing: bruv its either kpoppie fuckboy or uwu skirts pastels

25: Ever done a prank call?: no i have anxiety

26: Meaning behind my URL:

27: Favourite movie: rise of the guardians and HTTYD

28: Favourite song: Comeback Home (BTS cover)

29: Favourite band: looks in the camera i dont know nan molla huh

30: How I feel right now: I’m fine im hungry

31: Someone I love: shoutout to my babeys in my server ily

32: My current relationship status: Single(tm)

33: My relationship with my parents: theyre fine ig just a bit tired

34: Favourite holiday:

35: Tattoos and piercing I have: Ear piercings? that’s it

36: Tattoos and piercings I want:

37: The reason I joined Tumblr:

38: Do I and my last ex hate each other? I sure hope not?

39: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? A bit ig?

40: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? Literally no

41: When did I last hold hands? Like last Friday

42: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 20 minutes

43: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? no i havent shaved in like months

44: Where am I right now? in my room, in quebec, canada

45: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? bitch i sure hope my friends would

46: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? fuck my ears

47: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? yeah

48: Am I excited for anything? yeah? yeah

49: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? ig? always

50: How often do I wear a fake smile? just at work tbh

51: When was the last time I hugged someone? not long ago i cant tell but my friends r cuddle monsters so

52: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? i havent kissed anyone so

53: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? lemme think uhhh no not rlly im not dumb

54: What is something I disliked about today? i woke up n i thought i had school lol

55: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? oh john cock i want to be ur best friend

56: What do I think about most? i daydream 24/7

57: What’s my strangest talent? uhhh i can put my thumb behind my hand?

58: Do I have any strange phobias? trypophobia, if thats “weird”

59: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? depends on what the video is, mostly behind

60: What was the last lie I told? idk answering to my deadname

61: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? online

62: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I slightly believe in ghosts? also aliens GOTTA exist so

63: Do I believe in magic? i think!

64: Do I believe in luck? yeah

65: What’s the weather like right now? very pretty i filmed a video outside!!

66: What was the last book I’ve read? L’Étranger d’Albert Camus in french class

67: Do I like the smell of gasoline? yes my dad’s a mechanic

68: Do I have any nicknames? a lot a lot

69: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? bitch @ my birth #neverforget

70: Do I spend money or save it? i have 40$ in my name right now

71: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no

72: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? yes highlighter

73: Favourite animal? cats or otters

74: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? FBISDFD NO WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT

75: What do I think is Satan’s last name idk he can have any last name he wants!!!

76: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? everytime i start hearing “waiting for you anpanman” or “i just wanna go home” 👀👀

77: How can you win my heart? aaahh. be a twink. b fashionable. b funny. cheesy. pls romance me like a npc in the sims 2

78: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? s(he) died smh

79: What is my favorite word? cunt is SUCH a satisfying word

80: My top 5 blogs on tumblr? oh great uh honestly cant be fucked

81: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? please have brain. PLEASE

82: Do I have any relatives in jail? i sure hope the fuck not?

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? either invisibility or mind reading

84: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? ahaaa “what are your intrusive thoughts”

85: What is my current desktop picture? my lesbian sims getting married LMFAO

86: Had sex? no

87: Bought condoms? no

88: Gotten pregnant? NO

89: Failed a class? i think yeah maths last year

90: Kissed a boy? :(((

91: Kissed a girl? no

92: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no

93: Had job? I have a job rn so

94: Left the house without my wallet? yeah when i go to school

95: Bullied someone on the internet? define bullying?

96: Had sex in public? virgin squad

97: Played on a sports team? yeah

98: Smoked weed? no ew

99: Did drugs? no ew

100: Smoked cigarettes? NO EW

101: Drank alcohol? yep

102: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? no i’d die

103: Been overweight? i’m twig

104: Been underweight? i think i was underweight when i was young? i was very Small

105: Been to a wedding? yes very long boring

106: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? bruh. everyday

107: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? probably?

108: Been outside my home country? ONCE

109: Gotten my heart broken? TWICE !

110: Been to a professional sports game? yesss canadians game!!

111: Broken a bone? no

112: Cut myself? not technically

113: Been to prom? SOON SOON SOON SOSOSNSBFSHDD

114: Been in airplane? once

115: Fly by helicopter? i am not rich bitch

116: What concerts have I been to? noneeee- WAIT NO MARIE MAI

117: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? not sex but for the purpose of pretending i have a penis yes plenty

118: Learned another language? yeah!! i learned english, i almost learned spanish and i’m trynna learn korean now

119: Wore make up? i try!! but i’m not super good

120: Lost my virginity before I was 18? not 18 yet but it’s goin that way

121: Had oral sex? as if

122: Dyed my hair? i wishhh

123: Voted in a presidential election? I WISH THE ELECTIONS R ONE MONTH B4 MY BIRTHDAY

124: Rode in an ambulance? nope

125: Had a surgery? yes at a week old

126: Met someone famous? i think yes but i was super small

127: Stalked someone on a social network? define stalked?

128: Peed outside? yes

129: Been fishing? YES

130: Helped with charity? i think? we do volunteering so

131: Been rejected by a crush? not directly

132: Broken a mirror? no

133: What do I want for birthday? boyf......boy..boyff

134: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? oh man uhh maybe 2-3, i dont know their names yet honestly

135: Was I named after anyone? MY DAD NAMED ME AFTER A FUCKIN CLIENT HE MET. as for my actual name now I named myself after my fav video game character. lit

136: Do I like my handwriting? yeah!!

137: What was my favourite toy as a child? bitch hot wheels

138: Favourite Tv Show? hells kitchen,,,,judge judy,,,anythin like that

139: Where do I want to live when older? honestly i wish i could just live in japan or tokyo, or new york? but i will most likely end up in montreal

140: Play any musical instrument? i used to play the clarinet last year!!

141: One of my scars, how did I get it? the one on my knee, i scratched my desk with my knee

142: Favourite pizza toping? my dad makes AMAZING sea food pizzas,,,

143: Am I afraid of the dark? a lot

144: Am I afraid of heights? A LOT

145: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? idk prolly? im a bit of a goody two shoes or however u spell it

146: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end: dont we all

147: What I’m really bad at: organizing my anxiety n shit i get overwhelmed

148: What my greatest achievments are: finishing high school

149: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: honestly has to be that time someone dug up my vent post about being dysphoric to try to say i hated myself with some dumbass DySphorIa Is SelF HaTRed argument

150: What I’d do if I won in a lottery: pay my parents’ debt off, buy 284223$ of BT21 merch, pay my whole college/uni and transition

151: What do I like about myself: idk i like how i literally do not give a fuck anymore and ive learned to love myself instead of trynna care

152: My closest Tumblr friend: @peptobismol-official @ace-landofthesun @dorkalisious and ana but idk her @ anymore :((( ana pls

153: Something I fantasise about: we dont talk about that

154: Any thoughts on the paranormal?: lit. please stop crawling in my ceiling !

ok now that u know my whole biography. go doxx me ig. bye bye

#Arche.txt #asks #ask #long post

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sunnybugz · 6 years ago

Text

only fools

chapter: iv

word count: 1968

authors note: this chapter has been finished for over a week, but i’ve been freaking out over whether or not it was good enough hhh. im still super anxious to post this, so please give me some feedback! i love y’all

11:05 AM, Gina Linetti’s car

Rosa had spent a while trying to figure out what to wear. Gina refused to tell her where they were going, so she eventually just decided on a pair of dark wash jeans, a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and her black Docs. She wore a little more makeup than usual, but nothing too elaborate. She worried that Gina would think she was too much, or not enough, but managed to not freak out before Gina showed up at her door. Luckily, she was 15 minutes late, giving Rosa enough time to fix her curly hair.

When Gina had shown up at Rosa’s house, Rosa got a pit caught up in gay panic. Gina looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing an olive-green sweater with the collar of her white button down sticking out and a pair of jeans, and her auburn hair was just down, curled at the ends. She had on minimal makeup, yet still looked absolutely beautiful. Rosa literally stood there frozen for a few seconds before Lillian shouted, “Bye Rosa!” from the couch.

“So, does Lillian know?” Gina asked her as the doors shut.

“Uh, yeah. She heard our phone call through the stupid thin wall between our room. It’s like she’s trying to spy on me sometimes!” Rosa says. Gina smiles at her and shakes her head, her cheeks flushing a slight pink. Gina blushing was probably the cutest thing Rosa had ever seen.

Now she was sitting in Gina’s car, listening to her sing along to some pop song on the radio that Rosa didn’t recognize. It was her new favourite though, not because of the actual piece, but because Gina was singing it, and anything that Gina did was Rosa’s favourite. The song ended, and Gina looked at Rosa with a smile. Rosa had a huge grin plastered on her face, and she felt amazing. She was in the car with her girlfriend, and she couldn’t be happier.

“So are you planning on telling me where we’re going?” Rosa asked. Gina had a mischievous grin on her face.

“Nope, you’ll see when we get there. How have I dealt with you being so impatient for the past five years?” Gina responds. Rosa smiles and gives a slight eye roll.

“The same way I’ve tolerated you breaking out into random dance numbers. You thought it was cute,” Rosa responds. It feels weird to flirt so lightheartedly. She’d never felt this way with Marcus, Adrian, Becky, Aubrey, or even Alicia. It was like she was floating.

“I feel so attacked,” Gina laughed. “I mean, you aren’t wrong, but jeez!”

The two of them drove and flirted for a few more minutes before Gina pulled into the marketplace parking lot. Rosa looked at her quizzically.

“You’re taking me to the market?” She asked. “Not that that’s a bad thing, any place with you is the best.”. She realizes she’s rambling and turns bright red.

“You’ll see,” Gina says. “And by the way, you’re adorable when you blush.”. This causes Rosa to turn an even deeper shade of red, and Gina laughs.

It turns out Gina was taking her to get gelato. They go to a smaller stall in the market, with more flavours than Rosa has ever tried in her life. Gina gets birthday cake, and Rosa gets coffee. The two of them walk back out to Gina’s car, because according to Gina, there’s still more places to go.

Their second destination is a small diner that Rosa has passed a hundred times but never gone to. “You’ve talked about this place like, a billion times,” Gina said. “I had to take you here on our first date”. Rosa’s cheeks flush pink at that D-word. She could barely believe she was on a real date with the girl she’s liked since eighth grade.

The two of them get a booth right by a window. Rosa orders a burger and Gina orders nachos. They get a strawberry milkshake to split. The two of them are sitting, waiting for their food to come, while Gina gossips about the girls in her dance class. Rosa just sits there, staring into Gina’s beautiful blue eyes. She could listen to that girl talk for hours. Even though Rosa doesn’t know who Natasha is or why she’s allegedly pregnant at 19, or even why Gina cares so much about exposing her for faking her pregnancy, but the one thing Rosa does know is she loves Gina. She loves how passionate she gets when she talks, she loves how her face scrunches up when she smiles, she loves how she knows she’s always the most beautiful girl in the room.

Rosa is laughing at a stupid joke Gina made when their food comes. Rosa tries to stop herself from inhaling hers, because even though she’s known Gina since the eighth grade, she’s still embarrassed about eating in front of her or anyone really. She eventually gives into the delicious burger in front of her, stopping to make silly quips during Gina’s story. They take turns sipping from the pink milkshake between the two of them, but after Gina finally finishes her story, the two of them lean in at the same time, and they almost kiss. Rosa turns beet red and hides her face in her hands, smiling behind them. Gina giggles. “C’mon, stop hiding, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she says, but this just makes Rosa’s face burn red, and she’s pretty sure she’s blushing down to her neck. Somehow, she can make out with Gina in a dressing room and be perfectly fine, but putting her face close to Gina’s on a date nearly kills her? “Rosa, if you don’t move your hands in the next three seconds I’m eating your food.” Gina says. She starts counting down from three, and on one, Rosa finally takes her hands away from her face, and Gina smiles big. “See, I told you that you were cute.” She says, making Rosa smile.

“I am not cute,” Rosa says. Gina just rolls her eyes.

“Of course you are Rosie. You’re adorable and pretty and I know you’re a badass but badasses can still be cute.” She says in response to Rosa. Rosa feels her face heat up, but not in the good way this time.

“No, I’m not pretty or any of that stuff. I don’t look anything like those pretty girls in magazines and on TV,” Rosa says, her voice getting quieter as she looks down at the table. She doesn’t know why she’s getting so emotional in the middle of a diner. She’s always been insecure of how she looks, but she usually just hides it with her badass attitude and a stoic face. Only around Gina does she really feel like she can be open about how she feels.

Gina looks at Rosa with sad eyes, slightly shaking her head. How can she not see how perfect she is? Gina has literally never seen a more stunning person in her life, and no matter who she’s been with, she’s always wished it was Rosa. She scoots into the booth with Rosa, putting her arm around her girlfriend.

“Baby, you’re right. You don’t look like the girls on TV. You look better. You’re absolutely beautiful, and gorgeous, and stunning, and elegant, and every single synonym for those words in existence. You’re perfect,” Gina whispers, rocking her girlfriend slightly, kissing her hair. Rosa begins to cry, tears spilling over her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m being so stupid-” She starts, but Gina cuts her off.

“Don’t say that. You’re the smartest person I know. You aren’t stupid,” Gina reassures her.

“Gina, we’re friends with Amy Santiago, you can’t say that.” Rosa laughs a little.

“No, you’re definitely smarter than her. Don’t tell her that I said that though, she’ll probably beat me to death with one of her binders.” Rosa actually laughs at this, wiping tears away from her face. She grabs Gina’s hand, who gives hers a squeeze, and they finish their meal like that, sitting in the same booth, holding hands. It feels safe, and Gina’s heart swells a little every time she sees Rosa sneak a peek at her. This girl was so beautiful, she really would be the death of her, Gina thought. She hadn’t felt this much for any person in her life, except for her mom and Jake, both of which were family love. She’s never truly been in love other than with Rosa, and it felt nice to be a little less alone.

When the bill comes, Rosa goes to pull out her wallet, but Gina grabs her wrist. “Nuh uh, I asked you out, I’m paying,” She says. Rosa rolls her eyes.

“You already paid for us to get ice cream!” Rosa says, but Gina just gives her that look, and Rosa knows there’s no arguing with her. “Fine, but I’m getting you next time.”

The waitress smiles at the two girls, wisps of blonde hair framing her face. “You two are cute together, I’m glad you’re able to be out at such a young age. I’m still not out to my parents, but I’m happy you girls are able to do it,” She says. Rosa’s stomach drops a bit when she says this, but she smiles anyways.

“Thanks,” she says to the pretty waitress. Gina looks at Rosa, and can tell something is off. Rosa shakes her head a bit, and Gina knows that means she doesn’t want to talk about it. Rosa isn’t in the mood to talk about more sad things at the moment, she’s already cried once. Luckily, Gina understands. The two of them have always understood each other like that, despite how different they are.

The two of them are walking back to Gina’s car, holding hands. Gina is swinging Rosa’s hand and Rosa is going along with it. God, if anyone from school saw them doing this, Rosa’s reputation would be completely different. However, she doesn’t really care all that much. She would give up everything if it meant she got to be with Gina. When they reach Gina’s car, Rosa holds the door open for her. “Wow, Rosa Diaz is a gentleman, who would’ve guessed?” Gina says. Rosa smiles and pecks her on the lips. Gina grins and looks at the ground for just a moment before getting into the car.

Gina and Rosa drive around for a while, just talking. They talk about school, and the play, and their friends, and all the while holding hands and making googly eyes at each other.

“Do you wanna go chill at my place?” Gina asks. Rosa smiles.

“Is this the intro to some cheesy porno?” She responds. This sends Gina into a fit of hysterics, and it’s lucky the two of them are stopped at a red light, because otherwise, Gina most definitely would have crashed the car.

“No, it’s you using up all my gas money bitch! Although…” she trails off. Rosa rolls her eyes and laughs.

“Sorry, I’ll pay you back for the gas. How long have we been driving anyways?” Rosa says, completely ignoring the last part of Gina’s sentence.

“An hour, and you don’t have to worry about paying me back babe, this is a date,” Gina says, and Rosa kisses her on the cheek.

“Best first date I’ve ever been on,” Rosa replies. Gina just smiles. “Also, you’ve got lipstick on your cheek.”

“Diaz, if you aren’t kidding I’m going to kill you,” jokes Gina. Rosa actually has no clue if Gina is joking or not, but hopes for the best.

“No you aren’t, because I’m pretty sure I owe you a second date,” Rosa flirts.

Gina shakes her head and smiles. “Oh, Rosie. if only you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

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lesbeet · 6 years ago

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long post ahead

ive been thinking nonstop about the possibility of me having adhd since my sister and her boyfriend brought it up to me last week (i’m FINALLY seeing my therapist today so we can talk about it) and i’ve been doing a lot of research and i found the howtoadhd channel on youtube

and literally the number of times in the past 2 hours alone that i’ve teared up or started legitimately crying because of how much i relate to things that these videos are saying is ridiculous, like some of them are word-for-word things i’ve said that i had NO inkling of an idea could be related to adhd

like this one video of this guy who was diagnosed at 43 and said that prior to his diagnosis he had just accepted that he would feel dissatisfied for his whole life, that he would never feel content, i’ve been saying that for YEARS and just was resigned to it and chalked it up solely to my depression

and just like. having been able to do well in school as a kid but constantly being told that i’m “not living up to [my] potential” and now that i’m in my early 20s and my intelligence can’t compensate for like....not being able to regulate my emotions and not being able to organize my life and not being able to motivate myself to do things, which is supposedly why a number of people get diagnosed around this time, because metrics for success are different in adulthood (you can’t just take a test and rely on being smart to compensate for all the other problems), and i was always just. thinking that i fucked up and wasted my life through laziness or whatever the case may be

i’ve always considered myself to be “crafty” and “resourceful” in the sense that i may not go about doing things in the typical way but i can almost always find a way to accomplish what i need accomplished, even if it’s unconventional -- apparently that’s common with adhd too! like i’ll say “oh i couldn’t figure out how to do [x] so i did [y and z]” and someone will be like “why didn’t you just do [thing everyone else does]” and usually i either couldn’t figure out how, or it didn’t occur to me, and my way was weird and unconventional, but it worked for me!

and then of course i’m just recognizing all these signs that have always been there that i either didn’t notice or attributed to other things -- i’ve been trying to observe the way my attention functions this week and literally i space out and miss things SO much more often than i ever realized, like i miss so much information because i’ve drifted off. or i get really stuck on things in conversations and even after everyone else has moved on i have this urge to bring it back so i can say that last thing i’ve been rehearsing over and over for the past 5 minutes so i didn’t forget it, and now it’s in my head and everyone is talking about something else and it’s SO inconsequential but i have to forcibly drag myself away from whatever the thing is (yesterday my sister and her friend and i were talking about early 2000′s fashion and i wanted to make a comment about wearing ugly scarves as belts and they saw a dog and moved on to talking about cute things our dogs have done and i just couldn’t stop thinking about the scarves as belts thing for like 10 minutes until i just had to sigh and be like...well i can’t bring that up again now)

when i was younger i would rush through tests so i could go back to whatever book i was reading and i just thought it was a silly quirk like “oh i just like to read lol” but i realized i still do similar things -- if i’m reading a book or watching a show or working on something, THAT is what i’m doing. anything else, whether it’s work or sleep or eating or hanging out with a friend or fulfilling any sort of responsibility? that’s a break from the thing i’m doing. if i’m reading a book, even if it’s the 3rd time i’m rereading harry potter for the year, for example, then in my head, i’m reading harry potter. i have to go to work all day but then i can read harry potter. all i’m doing is thinking about reading harry potter. i rush through my responsibilities so i can go BACK to reading harry potter, because that’s what i’m doing and anything else is just taking a break from reading harry potter. (you see how this can negatively affect the accomplishment/fulfillment of important tasks and responsibilities)

and my sister has pointed out things that i didn’t really notice, like she said it’s really difficult to hold a conversation with me when i’m excited about something because i can’t calm down enough to let the other person talk. and i’ve always known that i tend to finish peoples’ sentences for them during conversations, which i always thought was a way of showing that i’m listening! but ive realized it’s actually that, if i already know what you’re going to say, and you’re saying it too slowly, i get impatient and i need to blurt out the rest for you so we can move on and i can say my next thing before i forget it

and like obviously all people experience some symptoms some of the time, daydreaming isn’t exclusive to adhd, neither is walking into a room and forgetting what you’re doing there. but this week as i’ve been paying attention, i notice i do it CONSTANTLY. the other night i opened up my phone before bed because i remembered i hadn’t set my alarm, so i picked it up from where i place it for the night (i was about to go to sleep). 15 minutes later i put my phone back down and decided to turn in for the night again, and then realized i still had never turned the alarm on because i got distracted and did other stuff. and things like that happen with almost comical regularity, now that i know to look for it.

i’ve known i have executive dysfunction issues for a long time so i won’t go into those, but like we’ve known i have problems with directions and organization and spatial processing and knowing how to complete tasks for a long time

the rejection-sensitive dysphoria is something i didn’t really realize was part of adhd, but it makes SO much sense. i think it’s part of why i thought i had bpd for a while, because a lot of the symptoms were similar and i knew i was dealing with something more than just depression and anxiety but didn’t know what, and a lot of the symptoms i experienced also seemed to fit the bpd diagnosis even if my actual behavior and personality didn’t seem to

there are so many more things i’ve noticed this week and thought about differently but i literally can’t remember what they are lmao i think i’m gonna try to write stuff down so i don’t forget to tell my therapist today but like.

so many of these things i didn’t realize had anything to do with adhd, like emotional dysregulation, i’ve always known i have horrible mood swings and trouble regulating my emotions, i’ve always noticed a lot of these different symptoms but it never occurred to me that they could all be part of the same thing??

like i haven’t been tested or diagnosed yet and i’m worried i’m getting carried away but the only time i’ve ever felt this sort of relief was a few months ago when realizing my dad is a narcissist. like the feeling of “oh my god, i knew this was something i experienced but i didn’t think i could attribute it to anything” and “oh my god, this is word for word something i say all the time, i didn’t realize it was part of a pattern”

and it genuinely made me cry! hearing people talk about things that describe me that i never would have guessed might have to do with adhd, finding something that seems to encompass a very broad range of symptoms that i previously thought were unrelated or results of a myriad of things (and obviously they all play off of one another but that’s a whole separate issue)

but it would explain so much of my behavior and challenges -- why i struggle with finishing up a task or project once the big, complicated part is done; why i get super obsessed with something and then once it wears off i never mention or think about it again; why i’ve always needed my mom’s help to clean my closet or pack for a trip, even though i felt like i was way too old to need help with that; why people constantly are like “i know you heard me say this because you said ‘ok’” about things i genuinely have no recollection of

but i just can’t stop thinking about that guy talking about how he was just resigned to thinking he would never been satisfied or content with his life because that is something i have been feeling and saying FOREVER, for years ive just been like “everything is so hard, the idea of spending the rest of my life struggling to get up in the morning and going to work every day, dealing with all my responsibilities, i feel like i’m exhausted and underwater just thinking about it, i’m never going to feel fulfilled or satisfied, it’s always just going to be slogging through my responsibilities and it’s never going to end” and apparently that’s....a normal thing, and i just thought it was depression and maybe part of it is, but maybe the reason i struggle so much with those every day things is because my brain is wired differently?

and maybe i’ve fucked up because at this point i think i’ll be really disappointed if i don’t get the diagnosis because i’m not really sure what else could explain these issues, it certainly makes sense and i feel like it fits and i feel relieved just thinking about having that answer, and it certainly negatively impacts almost every aspect (if not every aspect) of my life. so like if i don’t get diagnosed idk what i’m gonna do and i probably fucked up by spending the last week obsessing over it lol

but like....the relief i feel every time i read or hear or see someone with adhd say “i experience [x]” and i’m like holy shit??? me too???? and it just. feels like maybe there’s an explanation for all this horrible dissatisfaction and unhappiness i thought i was going to be stuck with for the rest of my life, and there are other people who experience these things and there are things that can be done, medication and therapy and strategies and...my whole life doesn’t NEED to feel like a challenge, maybe it’s not an indisputable fact that i’m just going to have to live with forever.

if you read this far and you have adhd (especially if you were diagnosed after childhood) i would love to hear your thoughts on this, obviously i didn’t list every single symptom and experience and i know there are more but these are all i could think of at the moment, if i seem like i’m way off base obviously please let me know

#me.txt #adhd #long post //#honestly if you read this whole thing....thank you #also don't rb obviously #adhd tag

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