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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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If I Stay Part One // Luke Patterson

Summary: A beautiful day Luke visits a record store to relive the times he would buy an album, but he finds more than memories. He meets you and a connection blossoms between you two and then Reggie and Alex as well. All is well until Julie discovers something.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death and car accident!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is based off the movie If I Stay and the movie Charlie St. Cloud. Sorry for not posting sooner, my sister in law along with my three nieces were in a car accident. Thankfully the kids are okay but my sister-in-law in currently in hospital due to minor injuries thus far.

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So, Julie’s life changed dramatically in the lost year and few months, firstly her family lost their mother. Secondly, Julie’s love for music faded until the melody and lyrics were haunting memories. Thirdly, after losing her place in the music program, she had to question her sanity. For in her garage lived three teenage ghosts to her disbelief and horror quite frankly; the ghosts grew on her so much she was in a band with them.

In the hours that Julie was attending school, the boys tended to tour the entire city. They enjoyed seeing the changes that had happened for the two and a half decades. Reggie really enjoyed the western-themed stores, even scaring a little girl with a floating cowboy hat that disappeared once on his head. Alex adored learning about the drastic changes within in the LGBTQ+ community, he had plans for when 2021 LA Pride came in June. Luke, of course, would go anywhere that had music such as music stores, record stores, concert venues and even followed a rock legend once.

“Ooh.” A voice spoke in the record store, “This would be the perfect gift.”

Luke turned to see you gazing at the Rock N’ Roll records with a passion in your eyes and an adorable smile that melted his heart. He couldn’t help but walk closer even if he had no clue if you could see him or not.

“Def Leppard? Definitely one of my favourite bands.” Luke spoke anticipating the usual one-sided conversation. His speculation shattered when you turned to face him with big eyes, “You can see me.”

You nodded your head, pushing your hands into your faded blue jeans glancing around the store, hoping the owner didn’t notice. To your relief the man was oblivious, Luke glanced over before stepping closer.

“You’re alive?”

“Mhm.” You spoke, removing a single hand to play with your burgundy jacket that cinched at the waist to give form. It was open to reveal a plain black shirt that left an inch of your midsection free, “I always wondered if ghosts were real. I got my answer.”

“This is so cool! My friend is the only person that can see my friends and me.” The grin was breathtaking on the teenage ghost. There was a connection between the two that was immediate and intense.

“At least you’re not alone.” You supplied turning to pick up the record, turning it around to read the tracklist. In the end, you decided you didn’t feel like buying it, replacing it you started for the front door.

A college-aged person walked in glued to the screen of the phone not replying as you mentioned a thank you before the door closed. Luke rushed to follow your steady pace in black hiking boots.

“Where are you going?” Luke questioned coming to the same stride as the girl that had taken his attention quickly. His interest had grown when he found he could hold a conversation with her.

“It’s a nice day. I thought I would go for a walk.” You replied, stopping to look around the street with curious eyes. Luke yearned for those eyes to look in his again because he swore he saw a galaxy in them, “Would you like to join me?”

Luke’s head was nodding in response with a new pep in his step as you walked down the street filled with all different kind of stores. Luke recognized Family Living Grocery store as the one that the Molina got their groceries, he and the guys had joined Julie on a trip once. It was one of his worst memories as a ghost, surrounded by snacks and food he couldn’t indulge in.

“So, what’s your story, Caspar?” You questioned stopping to look as at a beautiful dollhouse, “My cousin had one. We actually renovated it a while back for her unborn niece.”

“Caspar?” Luke teased, watching the nostalgia faded from your expression as you continued on the walk. His hazel eyes, greener at the moment, glittered at the different banter he had with you than the guys or Julie.

“Well, I don’t know your name!” You exclaimed turning the corner at a parlour with gorgeous stencilled artwork on the glass.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore. You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the blatant heated gaze.

“No. It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

One of the few memories that weren’t tainted by the betrayal that Trevor Wilson had gone on to do a year after the tattoo fiasco. It was more than not being credited or his songs being stolen, but it was also that someone he wholeheartedly trusted turned his back on them. Luke frankly didn’t care how Bobby coped after that fateful night. Still, he changed his name and refused any mention of his previous music experience. That hurt a lot.

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

The snicker fell from your mouth before you do anything about it but sobered up quickly in the view of his painful admittance.

“So, you’re seventeen?” You asked crossing when the crosswalk light flickered on. Your attention focused on crossing while listening to the teenager.

“Forever seventeen but I would eighteen physically, but if I had survived I would be forty-three.” Luke mused shoving his hands into his staple black jeans with the chains and his constant accessory of a blue rabbit’s foot.

“Oh, damn. I’ve seventeen as well.” You replied dodging pedestrians before humming a to a song you had heard recently but where you did was unknown. You didn’t want to bump into anyone.

Luke glanced down at his watch, somehow even in death it worked, noticing that it was around the time rehearsal would commence. The thought barely ended before a flash of light preceded Alex’s presence. You slightly jumped in response.

“Luke! Julie’s wondering where you are. We have rehearsal.” Alex was surprised that Luke wasn’t already at the studio. He was always the first one holding his guitar for the rest of them.

One glance at the girl beside Luke cemented a reason for his tardiness. Alex could see that you were the reason and a pretty reason too. Alex wished he had your jacket with such a beautiful colour, but the music was more important.

“Oh, man!” Luke panicked fearing that being late would cause Julie to leave the band after the whole school dance fiasco.

“So, Luke. I like your name by the way. I’m Y/N.” You greeted holding back from offering you a hand, your theory would have been proven correct. Ghosts can’t touch other people, all the movies portrayed that.

“Nice to meet you! I’ll find you soon!” Luke shouted seconds before Alex poofed them both away with a single hand on his bandmate’s shoulder.

A content smile appeared before you continued on your way, unaware of the lack of acknowledgement from people on the street.

The next few days, Luke would find you either in the record store or just out front during his free time. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was touring the music entertainment spots until he had your company. Soon you were joined by Alex and Reggie every once in a while.

The three were planning outings with their new lifer friend as Julie grabbed her songbook from her room. She was amused when the three wouldn’t shut up.

“What are you planning?” Julie questioned scanning their animated expressions, even taking in the slight change in Alex’s appearance.

Alex had a braided bracelet of the rainbow on his left wrist that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. He even seemed calmer and less anxious, as well.

“What happened to Alex?” Julie questioned with a small smirk, “Did you bump into Willie?”

Alex shook his head, “No, Luke met this girl at a record store and then Reggie and I met her. She’s cool! There’s this app she showed us, and it had videos of anything you could imagine!”

Julie’s teasing smile faltered at the mention of Luke meeting someone before it returned once more. She pushed the feeling away as this girl had brought peace to the drummer.

“What’s her name?” Julie asked, pushing the songbook away to listen intently to the new piece of the boys’ afterlife. The three burst into stories of the girl.

“She took me to this cool place nearby where people store their horses!” Reggie burst out, clapping his head, “I already have a country song started! This is so a hit single for our future country album!”

Alex only released an exasperated sigh at Reggie’s idea that he voiced every single day since the beginning of the band. Luke was just used to finding sheets of songs from Reggie around the studio and often his songbook too.

“She also brought me a bag of clothing she had in her house that she let me go through. Apparently, her house is the place where cousins take their old clothing.” Alex supplied striking a pose in his new white sweater with a rainbow logo on the front.

Julie grinned at the positivity radiating off the two boys.

“Is she a ghost?”

Luke shook his head, “No. She’s alive.”

A spark of happiness flits itself inside of Julie before it dissipated because Flynn had already gently let the girl down about Luke.

“What’s her name! I’m gonna find her Instagram!” Julie took out her phone waiting as Alex supplied her the name. Her thumbs froze before she could type staring down at the black screen.

The name was familiar.

Laying on a bed on San Pablo Street was a girl with her eyes closed and a serene expression. This bed wasn’t just any bed in a home. Instead, this bed was one no one wished to be in. A bed with machines surrounding and right in the middle of those machines was Y/N.

The very girl that had met Luke, Reggie and Alex were in fact in the ICU of a hospital recovering in a coma.

“Why do you look like that?” Luke demanded as the colour drained from the lead singer of their band.

“Are you sure it was Y/N Y/L/N?” Julie gulped dread filling her veins as each boy nodded their head and the girl slumped, “I go to school with her. The thing is she’s been in a coma for two weeks now.”

You were outside the record store once more as the three ghosts appeared in front of you each looking the worst you had ever seen them.

“Did you lie?” Luke questioned stepping closer to the teenage girl that furrowed her brows in confusion, “You said that you are alive. Why did you lie?”

“Lie?” You asked, taking a step back from the odd energy the boys had. A look of distraught on each face, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you here every day at this exact time. Never late, never early.” Alex questioned sick to his stomach as your brows came together.

“I- walk…” You trailed off thinking of the last week in deep thought paling as you had no recollection of going home or getting to the store. It was like you blacked out each time.

Actually, the last time you remember not being with the guys or at the store was two weeks ago.

“I don’t re…member.” You whispered, “I haven’t seen my family since…oh my god.”

Luke stepped closer, terrified as he reached out, hoping with his entire being his hand would go through you. It didn’t. Luke’s hand rested on your arm, still wearing that burgundy jacket. Your eyes flickered between his solid hand and the same outfit you wore for weeks now. Why would you be wearing a jacket and hiking boots in Los Angeles?

“My cousin had been saving up for a trip for her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to go skiing, so we split the cost between our families.”

As if a wall broke, you realized with horror that the college boy that hadn’t held the for you like you first thought. He hadn’t seen or heard you because in his world you weren’t there. No one had acknowledged you because they couldn’t see you just like they couldn’t see Luke.

“What else do you remember?” Reggie spoke up next, noticing that Luke was getting more upset. His eyes going so light the green appeared to be blue and glittered with tears and his heart dropping.

“My parents, my cousin and I were driving up the mountain in the rented car. There-“

Two Weeks Ago

Your head leaned again Lou’s head sharing the headphones connected to your phone blasting the carefully curated playlist. Lou had been living with your parents and you the last six months as her parents were travelling for work. It was a dream because she was like a sister already and vice versa; Lou as a surprise baby with her older sister being ten years older.

“We haven’t been to the slopes since we first got married.” Dad said glancing over at your mother in the passenger seat, “Didn’t we conceive-“

“Dad! Gross!” You shouted, wrinkling your nose as he glanced in the rear-view mirror to smile at your antics. Your mother’s laugh was probably one of your most favourite sounds in the world, it was warm like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“Did you see that video of the hologram band?” Lou asked, not paying attention to your family’s antics, “It’s super cool.”

“We still have half of our playlist to go through. You should show me when we get to the cabin.” You replied, “We could put it on the projector with the others.”

The others being your extended family, including the surprise of Lou’s parents. Your mother pointed out the snow on the mountain gaining everyone’s attention. It was beautiful compared to sunny Los Angeles.

Lou’s thumb was just about to click the video of Julie and the Phantoms against your wishes. You felt the fear before the yell, snapping your head up you watched as a pickup truck hit ice swerving into your lane. The screech of tires preceded the crunch of the vehicles hitting each other. Throughout the surrounding area, the echoes of the crash bounced off the mountains scaring birds away. Miraculously Lou’s phone survived the crash and played the electric video of ‘Edge of Great’ by Julie and the Phantoms. A song you would hum under your breath during your walks meeting the guys.

The snow turned red under four of five bodies. You lay nonconscious a stark difference in the burgundy jacket and black shirt you had painstakingly chosen that morning.

If I Stay Part Two (Final)

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pixiedoodlein · 3 years ago

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I’m so fucking mad that a year and a half into this pandemic I am back to 11th hour debating another year of homeschool. The first stretch of homeschool, in NYC, when the toddler was a baby, and husband was home on unemployment, was good, nice even, a quiet piece of something good when the world outside was falling apart. The next stretch, the Oklahoma stretch, with a particularly climby toddler, husband working 10 hour days, me doing remote contract work, somewhere we had no family around to help w/ childcare, was challenging. I was not always my best self. Some days were delightful, muffins and math games. Other days I was more Miss Trunchbull than Miss Honey, fractions were squeezed in between crying (usually mine) and netflix (way too much of hers), and I held on to any shred of sanity by telling myself “just a little longer, just until the vaccines.”

Well here we are. Husband & I have been vaccinated for months, but the kids aren’t yet. The upstate NY town we moved to is a very small town (pop: 838), was mostly untouched by previous waves. When we got here, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so lax about it- no masks, no panic. Our first day here, when I came home from the market and saw through the window a gaggle of unmasked kids in my living room (the neighbors coming to welcome us, they heard a kid moved in) I almost had a heart attack. In fact, I was so tired from the drive from OKC that for a moment I actually thought I was at the wrong house, that I was hallucinating, because how in the world could there be unmasked bodies in my living room.

Then I started talking to people here. And I realized that the way I thought they were insane for not being deathly afraid of covid, they thought I was insane for being petrified. Because the disease hadn’t hit here; their businesses were destroyed and their kids were out of school (in a rural area with barely functional internet, remote school = a lost year) and their lives were totally fucked up, for a disease that never arrived at their doorstep. I came to understand why they weren’t worried, why here life looked (almost) normal. I told them about what it was like to live somewhere covid tore through, the freezer trucks of bodies on the FDR Drive and my previously healthy 27yld brother so sick with it the first spring he thought he was about to die (but too scared to go to a hospital), my dad’s relative in the next NYC wave on a vent for months and lucky to be alive but may never walk again, the doctors in OKC pleading on the news to please wear a fucking mask because the hospitals were fucking full, and the neighbors stopped thinking I was psycho when I carried extra masks for their kids, and made them put them on, when I took them to town for ice cream. I never stopped masking. But we did indoor dine here (once, BBQ, it wasn’t delicious enough for how anxious I felt) and I did bring all the kids, including my toddler, to a fairly crowded children’s museum in the big (small) city an hour away, where the rest of us were masked but the one with his hands in his mouth, who was all up in other kids’ faces, the one who really should be masked, wasn’t because he won’t leave it on for more than a minute.

Actually it’s a lie to say that I never stopped masking- I have dashed into little stores here, without one, because I’m vaxed! It’s safe here! Covid felt done. We had friends come here to visit this summer. Friends who are vaxed, but that doesn’t seem to really matter enough anymore. We had the neighbors over for meals, indoors (you see, more indoor dining! A minute ago I was just thinking restaurants, but why would plagues only spread in restaurants?). They had us for meals. The girls are a crew, new best friends, making my daughter’s life here so, so much happier, constant sleepovers (their kids were at our house this afternoon; my kid is at their house right now). The parents and grandparents are wonderful, making my life here, and husband’s life here, so much easier, so much better. We help them with stuff, they help us with stuff, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see each other, unmasked. Some of the adults in their household are vaxed; some of the adults in their household are not. The kids are all too young to be vaxed. But it (living, doing shit again, seeing people again) really stopped feeling scary; it really felt like everything was fine, normal-ish, normal-er. The end of the pandemic felt in sight.

I signed my child up for school here. Real school, not mommy school, school with a school bus. She was a little anxious, I had to talk her into it, I sold it hard, I bought her whatever pair of new sneakers she wanted for her new school (she hasn’t had gym class in a year and a half; for a phase in Oklahoma she wore one boot and one sandal every day, why not). She wasn’t anxious about sneakers or covid; she was anxious that maybe she hadn’t learned enough in homeschool (I am not a teacher! I did not homeschool because I am good at it or love it or wanted to, I homeschooled because I was scared of her getting covid at school and dying), that she would be behind. She isn’t behind. I followed the real school curriculum as best I could (as in: sometimes totally and sometimes not at all), and somehow, when I gave her the standardized “real school” test “at the end of the year” (aka the day I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to focus on my work or I wasn’t going to have an income, the day I’d decided we’d done as much as we could and it was time to be done), she sailed through it, this kid is smart. Smart as in needs to be in actual real fucking school to stay smart and learn and reach her potential.

She got excited- one of the neighbor kids is in her grade. The other kid is older- but the school is small, she’d see her tons. She was excited; I was excited. I registered her for school. Her new teacher sent a nice note. We all were excited. She’s never taken the school bus before but the neighbors take it and she’d be fine on the bus with her besties, the bus would pick her up in front of their house since there’s nowhere to turn around up our hill (we are VERY rural), they’d all get on and off the bus together. She has been backpack shopping. We have been discussing what she’ll have for breakfast (honey nut Cheerios), what she wants me to pack for lunch (she says just Goldfish, I say turkey sandwich, we’re working on it).

But now, 18 days before school starts here, I am thisclose to pulling her out, to embarking on another lovely (not), gratifying (not) year of homeschool, because of covid, delta. When we got to our new home in our new tiny town in June, there was no covid here. Now, our county is listed by the CDC as a high transmission area (is there anywhere in the US that isn’t?). 80% of senior citizens here are vaxed; 50% of the total population is, well below the national average. 15 cases per 100,000, in a county of 100,000. I guess this is less rampant than our previous pandemic locales, NYC (currently 25/100K), OKC (49/100K). This is splitting hairs, everywhere is bad. This is what panic does to me: are we better or worse for every decision we’ve made in the past year and a half, every decision that got us here? There are fewer cases here but fewer people and fewer vaccinated people and fewer ICU beds. We aren’t safe even here, but at least we are happy (happy aside from fear of delta death).

I don’t know whether to send my kid to school in 18 days. There will be masks but masks aren’t enough (how many masks do I make her wear? two, ten, a thousand?). This choice feels crazy— in March 2020, when that covid was mostly sparing kids, I yanked her out of school. Now, this covid does hurt kids. How much longer, how many more years, can parents be in this position to make this nightmare choice? What will hurt her more: school or no school? There are vaccines, more than enough in America. We shouldn’t be having to make this choice.

As it is, because of toddler— not because of toddler, because of being a parent to children in a pandemic�� my work life, and husband’s, will be severely impacted this year, again. I can’t send him to daycare because he’s too little to leave a mask on (he won’t even leave his pants on!) in a room full of other unmasked toddlers, whose families may or may not be vaxd, may or may not wear masks (there has been a noticeable increase in supermarket mask wearing since we got here, but still not enough, is any of it enough?), may or may not be going to parties and weddings and funerals, daycare providers who may or may not be doing all the same. This means I can only apply to remote jobs, so I can be home with him. Husband has some flexibility, more than he did in OKC, but god forbid he has to work while I have a work call or meeting or work due I didn’t manage to get done at 4am or 11pm when the house is quiet. He can’t bring toddler to work with him, his work is up on scaffold, stenciling ceilings. This will be another year of me muting myself on Zooms while toddler pulls his diaper off and hurls poop at the cat. Would it really be so much harder to also be trying to teach parts of speech to our daughter at the same time? Yes, it would, but I don’t know if I can send my kids back out into the world until they’re vaccinated. I am counting the days, holding my breath, until they can be.

I used to believe in personal choice. I don’t anymore. I want this shit to be mandated, I want the government to line us up and force mRNA into holdouts’ arms, I want it to be required, to be able to function in and interact with and benefit from society in any way, shape, or form. I have been very lucky in the pandemic. Privilege stacked on privilege on privilege, to be fussing over my Zooms in my hamlet. I had been pretty pandemic perky, baking my pies and playing with my pandemic pets and (thinking about) doing puzzles, but I’ve reached my breaking point. This shit could be done, but it’s not, and I’m scared it never will be.

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blitzturtles · 3 years ago

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Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 6

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba, FugoNara / NaraFugo (Could be platonic, honestly, tho the BruAbba definitely isn't.)

Summary: “What?” he snaps.

“I’m just thinking.”

A pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). Here's another Bucci-centric chapter for the Bucci-centric fic.

Additional Notes: Sometimes having two disabled folks in one relationship is... rough. Not at all based on real life experiences...

Content Warning: couple fighting and a panic attack.

Also, for unnecessary clarification: Moody doesn't zipper through anything. Abbacchio goes around barriers and resets her timer as needed. Oh, and I use she/her for Moody. I've got a fic planned for that eventually.

There's also a mild mention of a headcanon I have where Bucci is technically Narancia's guardian. For school and healthcare purposes. (Fugo emancipated post-disownment, and Giorno kind of flies under the radar.)

Bucciarati won’t admit it, but there’s something devastating about the first medication not working. Or not working well enough. They can’t be sure, but he’s not willing to continue on something that ultimately failed to curb such a traumatic experience for one of the people he cares for most. He can’t quite shake the guilt that’s been slowly wearing away at him for days.

It’s only the anxiety of having another seizure in front of his famiglia that has him permitting Abbacchio staying home once more. He can’t do that to Narancia again, and he knows that it won’t be any less stressful for the rest of them. It’s bad enough when Leone has to deal with the fallout, but he’s better prepared for it. He’s seen worse, and it’s part of what they both signed up for. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. They’ve done everything but scribbled their names on the paperwork to make it official, but Bruno thinks that, with everything else they’ve gone through, they’ve more than earned their right as one another’s life partner.

Still, that doesn’t mean that Bucciarati likes to be watched like a lab experiment. With eyes that are waiting for the slightest hint that something’s wrong. It makes him acutely aware of the fact that he could have another seizure at any given moment. That he might have one with no warning signs, or at least not any that he’d recognize as such.

That’s the problem with auras; he can’t seem to recognize them for what they are.

He’s being unreasonable, he knows. He hasn’t had enough seizures to know whether or not he’ll learn to recognize the warning signs, but it feels like it’s been an eternity already. And a thousand seizures, rather than a small handful. Part of that is due to how poorly he feels afterwards, and how off he feels on the medication. Part of it is how all of this has disrupted their lives in every way imaginable. And all of it has him in a sour mood.

“You’re upset,” Abbacchio starts with a frown. It’s the first time either of them has spoken all morning.

“I’m frustrated.”

Abbacchio hums in response. A quiet sound that wouldn’t normally grate Bucciarati’s nerves, but it gets under his skin and festers.

“What?” he snaps.

“I’m just thinking.”

A pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You never want to talk about it,” Abbacchio answers, snappish and untrue. Even if it were, he knows why. Understands better than anyone else.

Bruno’s eyes widen slightly. A startled, wounded look evident in his blue irises, but his gaze hardens and he sneers,

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Bruno, wait--”

But Bruno is already gone with nothing but a trace of gold left behind.

Damn that stand.

______

It’s a childish thing, to storm off, especially when Bucciarati knows that Leone’s only worried. That he hadn’t meant the words that came out of his mouth, and that he’s as scared as Bucciarati is. That this is all out of his depth, regardless of what they feel for one another or what promises they’ve made. It’s still terrifying the way it’s terrifying to watch Abbacchio cough up blood some mornings.

He regrets leaving the moment he stops moving. Stops tearing holes through walls and leaving Sticky Fingers to put them back together. It’s like someone punched the air out of him, and all he can do is sink to the ground, on his knees, with his head held in his hands and his mouth open, gasping for air.

Each breath comes too quick, and leaves before he feels like he gets any air. There’s something wrapped around his chest. Too tight, and somehow pulling tighter. It’s all he can do to lie down. Before the next inevitable comes. He already feels too light-headed with a lingering dizziness that makes it impossible to think through.

“Bruno,” the voice sounds familiar. Too much like his own echoing in his ears, but he’s not talking, much less calling his own name. His voice wouldn’t sound like that. Wouldn’t sound steady, if not worried, but, when he looks, there’s a mirror image of himself looking down at him. It falls to its knees, and a familiar sound rings out in the air as Moody’s timer runs out. She reaches for him as purple wraps around her frame once more.

“Bruno,” Leone repeats, this time in his own voice, from his own body. He all but collapses on his knees beside his stand and reaches out with careful hands to brush Bucciarati’s hair from his face.

Time freezes for a moment. Bucciarati expects consciousness to flee him without warning, but the air lingers. Stale and stiff and impossible to breathe, and all he can do is try and try to pull enough of it into his lungs to try to chase away the spots dancing across his vision.

Recognition flashes across Leone’s features. Where his hand has gone still in Bruno’s hair, it moves once more. A gentle carding. A distraction from the racing fears in Bucciarati’s head. He can’t calm his breathing no matter how hard he tries. It feels completely out of his control, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Leone asks him seemingly out of the blue, but he knows that’s not right. That Leone must have been talking since his arrival, but Bruno can’t recall a word that’s been said.

“Yes,” he breathes, because he is now, and he meant to before. It’s just so hard to hear anything past the roaring in his ears.

“You need to calm down a little bit. Take some deep breaths,” Leone tells him, as if Bucciarati hasn’t been trying to do that since he stopped moving. There’s a sense of impending doom that lingers, pressing down on him until it’s crushing and unbearable.

“Hey,” Leone calls, tapping Bruno gently on the forehead, “You gotta focus on me, alright? Stop listening to whatever’s going on in that thick head of your’s, and listen to me. I need you to breathe in-- slower than that. Okay, good, hold-- now out. Annnd in--” They go through the steps several more times, until Bucciarati can successfully follow the counts more often than not. Finally-- finally he can breathe. Oxygen filters through his system, and his vision begins to clear. It’s only then that he starts to put the pieces together, and it’s shame that replaces the panic.

“I’m-”

“Don’t,” Leone cuts Bruno off before he can apologize. “I get it.” He moves to catch Bruno when he wobbles a bit too much upon trying to sit up. “Take it easy, will you?” He sighs and sits back.

“Sorry,” Bruno says, for lack of anything else to say.

“I’ll kick your ass if you apologize again.”

Bruno opens his mouth, and Leone quirks an eyebrow. It’s enough of a threat, empty as it may be, to convince Bruno to click his teeth together.

Leone huffs a sound that might be a laugh. Or it might be the last of his sanity slipping away. He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. “I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. That was shitty. I’m just-”

“Scared?”

“Terrified.”

“That’s fair,” Bruno muses quietly. He absently wipes at his face, and it’s the first time he realizes that there are tears there. Streaking down both cheeks and plentiful in nature. He can’t remember the last time he had a panic attack. He’s better at running from his problems than he is dealing with them head on. At least the ones emotional in nature. The rest he’s always tackled with little more than a hope and a prayer to a deity he’s long lost faith in. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I told you to stop apologizing.”

“When have I ever listened to you?” Bruno snarks back, shoulders relaxing slightly.

Leone snorts, “Not a day in your life.” Bruno has the scars to prove it, too. Bastard. “C’mon. Let’s get off the floor. I’m getting too old for this.”

It’s Bruno’s turn to laugh this time, “You’re barely in your twenties.”

“And I’m too goddamn old. Up,” Leone pushes himself to his feet before reaching his hands out to pull Bruno upright. There’s a pause where the two are lost, staring at one another, and Leone decides ‘fuck it’. What better time to go for a kiss then after your partner has a full on panic attack? They’ve done worse with far more questionable timing.

Bruno responds to the kiss with a pleased little sound in the back of his throat. He tugs Leone closer, wanting the contact more than anything. He can feel Leone’s hands cradling the back of his head, fingers linking together at his nape.

“Gross! Get a room!”

Leone curses as they break apart and shoots Narancia the meanest look he can, “I will murder you.”

“Only if you catch me!” And the kid is off before Leone can even respond.

Bucciarati can’t help laughing at the whole display. He grabs for Leone’s hand before his partner can seriously consider killing Narancia. “May I remind you that I’m legally responsible for him?”

“They won’t find the body.”

“Leone!”

#bruabba #abbabru #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba part 5 #part 5 #blitzwrites #fic: islt #blitz

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rachetmath · 4 years ago

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Why I love team JNPR

You know the usual. This is in my opinion. If you like it, reblog it or both that’s your choice. If you have questions, or want to add on to this then comment. Read at your own time and will.

Ren and Nora compared to Yang: Yang had a mother. May not be by blood related but by relationship. Her mother died while she was young, but she still had her father and uncle to raise her. She had a social life in school, and she was trained by her father and uncle. Ren and Nora on the other hand, have no parents, only watched after each other and were trained by a bunch of strangers or by themselves. So unlike Yang, Ren and Nora would have a hard time relating to some people than Yang would.

Pyrrha compared to Weiss: Weiss was born and raised in a rich family. True, she was always cautious when it comes down to others using her for their own gain. But she takes her title way too seriously and it made her arrogant and cocky. Pyrrha doesn’t take her title too seriously, but she was overwhelmed by it. She hated how everyone only saw her as a tool or a weapon they can use for battle, and not as a person. She tries to welcome anyone into her life, but they always reject her, mainly feeling unworthy of her. Because of this Pyrrha felt truly more alone than Weiss. Unlike her, Pyrrha made her way to the top, she wasn’t born into it nor took the easy way to get there.

Jaune in comparison to Ruby and Blake: Jaune had nobody! Jaune had no uncle, no best friend, no teacher(sensei), NO SUPPORT to help him become a hunter. Jaune literally unlike Ruby is way out of his comfort zone. And unlike everyone he had no aura or training to help him. Jaune unlike Blake was treated, like a faunus, as a huge literal joke. This guy has literally had more reasons to be a villian than any of his teammates do. Plus, he has more things in common with the bad guys than he does with the heroes. He lost his partner and best friend due to the heroes, and Ozpin’s actions.

I liked team RWBY in volume 1-3, mostly because it made sense and was reviling each character’s problems and goals and was setting up the conflict of the story. But in volume three I started liking team JNPR more, because how they are not like the other teams. Everyone knows Pyrrha Nikkos, and believes without her, team JNPR is nothing more than failures. And you can’t blame them considering Jaune only became a leader because he was assigned to be one, and Ren and Nora were a bit too relaxed and into to each other to be leaders at all. And now with Pyrrha gone, they must prove that even without her, they can still be a great team. While defying the so-called “destiny” Cinder described as well.

In volume 4, we see Jaune does miss Pyrrha, and that he trains at night to her video message. He does feel sad that he lost her and that he couldn’t even express his feelings towards her as she did to him. And when he realized the truth, of course he was suspicious, his friend would have died either way by Amburn’s soul taking over or being a target for the rest of her life. Ren and Nora not only had to be there for each other still but now they had to be there for Jaune like Pyrrha did. (Even though they were completely horrible at it considering their flashback and action in volume four.)

In volume 5, (oh my gosh, this one is the reason I hate the show sometimes because of time constants) we learned the whole reason behind Jaune’s actions, which is revenge on Cinder. Team JNR were first to see Oscar before Ruby. Oscar was place under Jaune’s care do to the fact he was also a underdog (even though Oscar can just learn from muscle memory like Ozpin said) but Ruby takes that role for some reason and we are expected to take it. When the battle arrived, when Jaune had Cinder right in front of him, he did not hesitate to fight her. This backfired and one of his friends got hurt. He acknowledged that he missed up, that it was not suppose happen, and by doing so, he got his semblance. (Even when that makes no sense considering Cinder was after Ruby and Jaune’s secondary reason for coming along was keeping Ruby safe. At least I hope it was.)

In volume 6, could’ve better, Jaune made Oscar question himself even further, which is good. Because, one, Oscar is fourteen, and unlike Ruby he doesn’t have much of a clear idea on why he came along on the journey in first place other than Ozpin telling him to. When Jaune heard Oscar ran away, unlike Qrow, who punched him by the way, and don’t say it was for Ozpin because they share the same body, Qrow still hit a child, Jaune helped in the search and apologized to Oscar for his behavior. He gave Ruby an option when she couldn’t think of anything then she takes charge over it. Also, Ren and Nora admitted that they love Jaune and would not want to lose him just like Pyrrha. (Again, they were completely bad at that, considering they didn’t talk about that on the train, nor called Jaune out on his actions, completely ignoring him and etc. Really Jaune needs new friends.)

In volume 7, here’s the thing, Jaune had no reason to hate the General because he already worked things out with Qrow. How and when? We don’t know. But that shouldn’t mean he should flat out trust James with his life unlike Clover. Why you may ask, first, Qrow told him about the maiden powers. I mean, he wouldn’t leave out the people who knew about them like Ozpin, Good-witch and Ironwood, right? No. So Jaune has a reason not to trust James, not because of Pyrrha but Lionheart, the general’s actions so far and how the truth almost torn them apart mainly himself. Plus Jaune, and his team work more in Mantle, than RWBY, so they would have more run-in times with happy huntresses than team RWBY would on a regular basis. Then it’s how Mantle and Atlas situation is affecting their team with Ren and Nora butting heads over who’s right and who’s wrong, whether their ready to be hunters or not, and more importantly questioning their relationship and loyalty to not only each other but their friends. Image Ren, taking it too far where he could say something he’ll regret. Or by finding James to be right, he would sell out his friends believing it was the right thing to do. Image Nora having to choose between Ren or Jaune, which will be devasting more for Ren than Jaune because of how close they are to each other.

In volume 8, (Even though I highly doubt that team JNR will ever have a scene to themselves and now preview.) Jaune will feel bad because he not only lost the relic, he lost Oscar even though he’s alive. Now, how would this disturb him? Well, even though Nora would have to decide between him and Ren, in volume 4, there was a scene with Jaune going with Ruby and Nora going with Ren. It would feel obvious that she would follow Ren anywhere, even if it means leaving her friends behind. That could leave Jaune broken because he lost not only Pyrrha and Oscar but his teammates, making him the official Qrow and Raven of the group. This could cause Jaune to further out cast himself from everyone, trusting less in others and undoubtably make more horrible decisions than he already has before. That could also make him more of a target for the villains themselves. However, Jaune’s will to still protect the people and his friends will be the what keeps him sane and less brainwashed like Salem’s forces or the Ace Ops. (Or call team RWBY out on their mistakes.) But who can save him from a self-destructive path?

Many of you will say team RWBY might be able to help since their the main crew. Well, sadly, I disagree. Do to the fact that none of them tried to talk to Jaune after the Cinder and Ozpin incident. And there are multiple characters who have gone through a similar process or are wiser, than the main cast. The only ones who I feel can make an impact on him are maybe Maria and Penny. Penny may be android, but she seems more human than the RWBY girls put together. She is kind, friendly and mostly very supportive towards her allies. Maria may not have had many friends or levels of companionship as others, but she does know about how it feels to be powerless and scared of what’s to come. Maria would basically remind Jaune that being afraid and sorry for himself isn’t going to make things better. Penny would try to keep his sanity alive until he could once again maintain it on his own. However, the final person who I believe can help him is Qrow or even Oscar (Ozpin). Qrow would just remind Jaune on how far he has come, and for him to understand that nothing will play out as he planned. He would even tell him more about his team, mainly Raven and himself and how their decisions affected their family. Same goes for Oscar (Ozpin) but telling him how many mistakes he has made during his lifetime. He might even tell Jaune he knew about his fake transcripts, just didn’t care much about it if Jaune was willing to work and improve.

I know many people love team RWBY due to them being an all-female cast or for other reasons I cannot explain. But sometimes, there are situations that they cannot relate to. And even if there was, team RWBY does nothing to resolve it. For example, Jaune was sad about Pyrrha and trains under her videos. He wanted revenge on Cinder and Weiss almost died for it. And though he was asking appropriate questions, he went about it the wrong way, causing Oscar to feel unwanted and run away. Yet, none of his friends, bothered to either call him out on it, nor done anything to cheer him up or reason with him. Ruby who literally saw Jaune committing every one of those transaction, and has a dead relative, said nothing. Yang who lost both her moms, whose uncle was a constant drunk and had to take care of Ruby while her worthless dad is busy, said nothing. Weiss who has a somewhat of a dysfunctional family, said nothing. Blake who is supposed to be an escape victim of a one-sided relationship, who seen how friends change or show their true colors with time, and literally seen more death than her team members and blames it on herself, said, nothing. Basically, Jaune overcame some of his problems on his own along with the help of the Red-Haired Women (and she barely mattered). And even though Ren and Nora talked to him, he already had reinsurances he needed to move forward. The point I’m trying to make is the reason I like team JNPR is that they are more real than team RWBY. They have weakness, they have arguments, nothing goes their way and when something bad happens they face the consequences.

That is why I love JNPR better than RWBY. Jaune, he was just a normal person until he made a chose to leave his old life behind for something greater, only to have his character taken by Ruby and Oscar, who just ruins it, and to never improve. And we still know nothing about him. Pyrrha who should just stayed alive because no one has learned from her death. Ren and Nora are just to be a better ship than Bumblebee. I hope these characters get better, but I highly doubt it.

#rwby #Jaune Arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #JNPR #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Blake Belladonna #yang xiao long #oscar pines #james ironwood #qrow branwen #rwby ozpin #Glynda Goodwitch

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haikyuu-philia · 5 years ago

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Dancing in a Dirty Puddle | Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

A typical case of 'It sounded much better in my head', but I wanted to share it with you anyways!

Words: 1755

Summary: Going with the headcanon about Sakusa being germaphobic, my head came up with this scenario :P

-----

There were many things that Sakusa wouldn't do. Simply shaking someone else's hand could make him reach his limits, if he wasn't wearing gloves or didn't have sanitizer on him. But this never stopped him from doing what he certainly wanted to do.

And this list happened to be a lot longer than the one with the situations he was struggling with.

As his teacher went on to explain the next math problem that the boy had already solved quite a while ago, he watched the raindrops on the window to his left. This morning had been unexpectedly perfect until the grey clouds had appeared at the horizon.

Nearly silent thuds echoed in his ears while his eyes followed the line of one of the new droplets.

A sigh slipped out of his mouth to be caught by his facial mask. Today would be rather exhausting for him since human interaction couldn't be avoided. First school, then practice and later a meet-up at the local library with some classmates to finish a group project.

At least the rain would wash off all the bacteria of the people he would run into on his way to the unusual location. Many considered it only a detour, for him it was the opportunity to catch a terminal disease.

Before the thoughts could take over, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to have a panic attack in the classroom.

Some things just had to be done, like that biology project.

By the time practice had come to an end, some rays of sunshine broke through the gloomy blanket above his head. But the blue sky was still nowhere to be seen.

Carefully he made his way to the concreted paths of the school ground to not step into a puddle or - worse - faceplank into one. A shiver ran down his spine as he cleaned his hands with a sanitized wipe. Who knew in whose mouths the air had been earlier.

"Sakusa! Mind if we walk together again?" You, one of many classmates and member of his assigned group, waved from the school gate.

There you were, his personal ray of sunshine to save him from the boringness. Maybe the assignment had been of use for him anyways.

He shrugged his shoulders in response, though that seemed to be enough to get a smile from you. Everytime this happened, he stared at you for a second and looked away the next. Whatever it was, he couldn't tell whether you were the weird one in this scenario for causong such a reaction or him for acting this way.

Like the past two Fridays that your group had met up at the library to work on the project, he walked next to you with a safety distance of two imaginary people in between.

On your way to the meeting you asked him about his day and he responded with a short reply, mostly telling you the exact same thing as the other days. His hands in his pockets he watched you from the corner of his eyes whenever you spoke.

So he immediately noticed as soon as you had stopped in your tracks.

"Woah, how beautiful! Don't you agree, Sakusa?", you awed at the sight ahead of you.

The street on your right, Sakusa and a brick wall to your left a big cherry tree was looming over the side walk. In front of you the grey stones were covered in pink cherry blossoms that the wind had carried away.

Nevertheless the tree shone in the most beautiful colors from white to nearly red while some leaves still dripped a bit due to the heavy rain earlier.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and went a few steps ahead. The device in your hand you stretched towards the sky as much as you could to capture the natural beauty that you were witnessing right there.

"Damnit, I'm not tall enough to get the wall out of the picture", you hissed between your breaths.

Sakusa watched your efforts from afar. How you were balancing on your tiptoes, arms high into the air to get the perfect angle and how you were failing in your opinion. In this position he would only have to place his hands around your waist to rise you up a tiny bit more.

Inside his pockets his fingers tingled while his feet nearly took action before his brain stepped in. The thoughts of where your jacket had been today, when it had been washed the last time and the amount of bacteria that might be attached to it took over.

Even though you were only a call away, he froze next to you. With his eyes fixated on your blazer, his chest tightened when he tried to suppress the urge to sanitize his hands.

"This will do", you finally exclaimed. "Thanks for the wait!"

Yet again with this big grin on your face, that looked so much happier than on anyone else's, you turned towards him.

The remaining minutes of the walk went by without another incident. Sometimes he would nod to agree with your statement, then a time would follow where you just continued to walk in silence.

While more and more rays of sunshine won the battle against the seemingly undefeatable dark, Sakusa found himself lost in the recaps of what had happened back there.

Sure, he had experienced moments of paralysis before. But in contrast to those he couldn't stop thinking about it now.

About how his actions could have changed the events for the better and how he could have been the one to make you smile even more.

The work on the presentation for school brought him some surprisingly welcomed distraction. It still didn't manage to make him forget about the wave of thoughts sweeping away his sanity.

For the first time in forever he actively noticed that he only touched his own things. The pens, the ruler, the scissors.

If someone else accidentally grabbed them, he would have to clean them or never get in contact with them again.

Nobody of the group made a comment about his reflex to use a baby wipe once he had touched someone else's belongings. Additionally, he didn't take off his mask in a secure place like a library as thousands of people had been there before.

To get a book from the shelves he grabbed a tissue first to protect his hand from direct contact. Everything else raised his blood pressure on the spot.

So he busied himself with writing note cards for his group in a neat handwriting.

When he stepped outside the building after finishing the project, he felt like being able to properly breath for the first time in hours. During the stay it had rained some more, leaving the air freshly cleaned from pollution.

"Let's head for the station. It's late already", he announced to you.

Meanwhile you stretched to make the exhaustion vanish from your limbs. At home you planned to simply eat dinner before collapsing on the bed.

Pretty much aware of the tired look in your eyes, Sakusa didn't say a word. As you didn't either, silence ruled again.

Thanks to that it wasn't hard to hear a speeding car approaching you two from behind.

Before it passed you in the blink of an eye, Sakusa noticed the puddle on the side of the street, which instantly splashed into all directions once the wheels had hit it. The boy felt the urge to throw up as soon as single drops of water reached his face.

With an unsteady breath and shaking hands he pulled the baby wipes out of his backpack to clean his forehead. Next was the mask that he switched for a completely new one.

Only when he had discarded the used supplies into a zipper bag especially for that purpose, he checked the rest of his body.

"I'm sorry, Sakusa", you mumbled with a breaking giggle. "I didn't manage to shield you from all of it."

Then it hit him what had happened.

You were standing in front of him, the back of your clothes and parts of your hair soaking wet. Nevertheless you tried to smile at him while checking the damage the water had done to your appearance.

"Are you okay? Most of the water hit me, I guess. So I'm sure that you will only need to wash your uniform once and take a shower later."

"Why?", he replied without breaking eye contact with you.

At the same time you wiped your face with your bare hands, making him shiver at the mere look of it. You even tried to squish some water out of your wet hair.

"I've noticed that you don't get along with dirt, physical contact and everything of that sort", you explained calmly. "The bullet of discomfort was shot and I took it for you."

Offering you his help by throwing single baby wipes at you to finally make you stop touching your dirty face with your even dirtier hands, he didn't know what to answer.

Instead he grabbed a tissue for himself and opened the zipper of his sports bag with it. He would certainly not take the risk of touching potentially stained metal.

"Here. Take this."

Sakusa was holding his yellow-green trainings jacket towards you. Thanks to the face mask his expression seemed the same as always, though it did hide the uneasy snarl of his lips.

"Thanks", you welcomed the offer wholeheartedly "I will wash it and return it on Monday!"

It was this moment when the boy had made you smile simply because of him for the first time. The way your face lightened up once you had put on the jacket was directed towards him and only him at this very moment.

Sure to say that his lips formed a small smile as he found the neatly wrapped jacket in his shoe locker on Monday.

Immediately after opening the little package, a nice scent of flowers reached his nose through the face mask. You were nowhere to be seen, but your image popped up in his head as well as the memory of you standing underneath the cherry tree a few days prior.

Surprisingly, it didn't occur to him that you most likely hadn't worn gloves while wrapping his jacket.

His mind had other priorities to think about. Including the issue about the comforting warmth inside of his chest whenever you were around.

-----

Posted: April 8th 2020 | Requests: Open | Match-ups: Closed

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #germaphobia #itachiyama #reader insert

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one-last-puku · 4 years ago

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☆ I found a thingy I wrote 2 years ago! ☆

... When I was in a really bad place :O <__<

I never finished it, and I don’t think I could do it properly now because I was in a completely different mental space back then, so this’ll just have to do. ---- Subject: Kentin x Candy and likely events leading up to their breakup (obviously not canon) Date: Thursday, March 21st, 2019 4:40AM Word Count: 1279 !!Warnings: Depression and Mental Health issues ----

It had been 4 wonderful years with his girlfriend, Candy, their love was so strong that nothing ever really made Kentin question the confidence he had. Candy had made friends with many guys, but he could tell that Candy never felt anything more than friendship with anyone she befriended, he was confident in their love. Confident in their future together. Kentin always saw his future like this; They would get through school, find stable work, get a home together, get married, have children, and grow old together. He always felt she was the one, and felt their bond was deeper than anything bound to this terrestrial earth, something cosmic, and surreal. Soulmates. She adored him and he adored her, and even after 4 years together, he never felt anything but that strong love. Nothing could ever break such a bond,.. right?

Sadly, life is never that easy, and kids grow up.

---- Soon after High School, Candy told Kentin she had to move away, that her parents had to move for work and she had to go with them because she had nowhere to stay and no means to support herself. This crushed Kentin, but he understood. He was a bit worried, being apart like that, but he had nothing less than the up-most confidence that the distance could not sever their bond. Their love was strong enough to weather any storm.

Candy moved to start her studies, and Kentin knew he had to do the same, he knew he needed to go on to higher education so he could start his dream to have a life together with the one he loved most in this life. (Not too longer after highschool, Kentin and his family moved overseas, Guiles was shipped out to the US. He needed to work hard.) Kentin was one hundred percent sure what he wanted was to live a happy life together with Candy, but otherwise he was so unsure what to do with his future. He knew he loved animals and that he wanted to help them, so he thought that maybe he wanted to become a Veterinarian. He researched many schools that would offer the degree program he wanted, he ordered his high school transcripts and sent out applications; this was a proud moment for Kentin, he truly felt he was making great strides to start a future with his soulmate, his best friend.

Soon after, the first of many letters came back, he was nervous, but ecstatic to find out what its contents would reveal. Eagerly, but carefully, sure to draw a dramatic wait, he slowly tore through the envelope. Excitement, nervousness, but more excitement, he closed his eyes as he pulled out the professionally folded piece of paper. He opened them once more and….

His vision blurred and he had to regain the focus on the first few words that read "We regret to inform you that…". Silence. And like an anchor, his heart fell to his stomach. His mind was empty and racing all at the same time. He didn't get into his first choice school. Of course he didn't, his grades were nothing up to par for any kind of medical school, especially after his little stunt near the end of his high school career. What was he even thinking? He tried not to let this get to him, but every letter that returned proved the fact and he fell harder and harder with every letter. Well… not every letter. After about the first five came back negatively, he pretty much lost all hope and expectations for the rest. Each time, he flashed back to the times where he felt he was worthless, when he felt he wasn't worthy of love, the 'him' that he had learned to despise. He's think back to all the times his father yelled at him and told him he was worthless and would never amount to anything. The times where his father would tell him he wished Kentin was not his son.

------

He and Candy continued to chat via video chat, text messaging, calls and occasionally in person visits. Candy could tell when he was revisiting his old torments, like a scab that continually gets clawed and re-scratched open, left to bleed out the painful memories his mind tried to bury in the depths of his mentality. She always tried to help in any way she could, but as she grew up a pretty normal, mostly happy life, Candy could not always fully comprehend the crippling a mind can do to someone. She was always kind to him and did the best she could with what she could understand. Candy was always the sunshine in Kentin's life,… though she didn’t always like him… when he was a loser.

As in any usual relationship, Kentin and Candy always had their ups and downs, but they still always seemed to feel any fight could be resolved and made up with a hug and kiss very soon after. They never could go long upset with each other. Well… when they could kiss and hug, that is. Physical contact is important in any relationship. They could usually make up, even when they fought about his drive in life. ..

------

Kentin knew he would never make it to Veterinary school,… at least, not right now. He tried to muster up every ounce of hope and courage in his heart every day, and decided to attend a local community college. He thought, if he started there, maybe, maybe, if he worked hard enough, he could make the grades and transfer to a Vet school later down the road. In his new found bout of energy and inspiration, he started off very strong, he was making A's and B's his first few semesters, but as more pressure fell on him, and he was researching even more with online Vet school boards about the cut-throat medical program, the more his spirits fell. The longer his Candy was away, the more his heart fell. The more he was left alone with his self-hatred, the more his sanity fell. Over time, his grades slipped and continued to slip until he on the verge of failure. The more he failed, the lower his mind went; the lower his mind wandered, the less he would do well.

He wanted to be with Candy again, he needed to be with Candy again, he knew this was the key he needed to get back the strength he desperately required to get back on his feet. He needed her to help distract him from the demons that were constantly pestering, and picking, and pecking at his mind. He needed his sunshine!

2 years later, Kentin somehow managed to finish his Associates degree, but after the long journey of self-defeat and discovery about the cruel nature of life, he couldn't find much joy in getting his degree. He barely skirted by. Did he really even deserve it? After all of the horrors of hearing what Vet School had to offer, and the fact that he'd still more than likely be laughed out of and mocked by any said school, he suddenly found himself lost, standing at a strangely splayed cross roads in his life. The many roads to choose ahead of him were blurred in the distance, the ends completely gone and distorted.

2 more years went by and, if his father were around more, he would have been kicked out of the house by then, because he had done nothing after graduating with his Associate's degree. The only reason he was able to stay that long was due to his merciful and slightly overly sheltering mother.

#my candy love #mcl #kentin #mcl kentin #tw depression

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giuliafc · 4 years ago

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Little Baby in a Crib

by: JuliaFC

Read on Ao3 || FFN

When Marinette accidentally discovers the identity of her Chaton, she tries to talk to him about it, but the world seems to be against her. So she ends up recycling the less known heroes Aspik and Multimouse to finally sit down with Adrien and have a necessary and way too much overdue heart-to-heart. Adrinette and Snekmouse. Written for my friend and beta KhanOfAllOrcs, who needed some cheering up!

Betas: Agrestebug, Mia Brown, Etoile-Lead-Sama, Rosehealer02, Malauu-Ladynoir, Genxha, Callmedale, Mansi (shamelesslyromantic). Thank you all so much! Also thanks to Khan, who can't take off his beta-reader hat and proceeded to beta read his own gift. You're a great friend, Khan!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

This is a gift for my amazing friend and beta, KhanOfAllOrcs, who was a bit down and needed cheering up. Hope this will make you smile ^-^

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his Lady," hummed Chat Noir, sitting at the usual spot where they would start their daily patrol.

"Hey, Chaton," came Ladybug's voice from behind him, causing him to startle slightly. "I didn't make you wait too long, did I?"

He smiled as he looked at her. "Not at all, M'lady, don't worry. You weren't that late this time."

She sat next to him and bummed her way closer. "What about the song you were singing then? I’ve heard you singing it a couple of times, always when I'm late."

"That song," he said with a little sigh, his gaze getting lost in the emptiness laid out before him, "is very special to me. Not as special as you are, Buginette." He winked flirtatiously and chuckled at her eye-roll reaction. "But still very special."

Ladybug looked at him for a while, noticing how far away his gaze still was and how loudly he had sighed after he spoke. "Care to tell me about it?"

Chat Noir's eyes darted to her face, his previously pensive expression changing to one of pure fondness. "My maman used to sing me this song as a lullaby to help me fall asleep as a baby. It was from a film she ac— I mean, from a film she really liked. I just adapted the words to me and you."

Ladybug smiled. "Your maman sounds like a really nice person, Chat Noir."

"She was," he admitted, "or she is, I don't know. She disappeared a little over a year ago."

Ladybug's smile died on her face, her brows furrowing in a frown, her complexion turning ashen. "Oh God, I'm so sorry Minou, I didn't want to—"

He smiled and looked at her, shaking his head. "Don't worry Buginette, it's okay. You couldn't know." He looked down and was quiet for a long time, letting his feet and legs swing freely from the edge of the rooftop they were sitting on. "I always sing that song when I feel lonely. It makes me feel closer to maman."

Tears filled Ladybug's eyes. How insensitive could she have been? Again she had misjudged him. Again she had let her first impression of him take control. She had thought that the song was just a silly rhyme. She would never have thought that it held such heartfelt meaning to him. To be completely honest, even after Glaciator and even after having known him for all this time, she still couldn't believe that Chat Noir had such a deep and sorrowful side to himself. He always looked so happy, so carefree.

"I'm sorry, Chat Noir. I didn't want you to feel lonely, or sad. I will try to be on time next patrol. Promise."

He glanced at her sheepishly and raised a hand to the nape of his neck. "I'm never sad when I'm with you, M'lady. Shall we start patrol? I can see some people taking pictures of us over there. Wouldn't want them to mistake us for a couple…" He said the past sentence while wiggling his eyebrows, but she could see the way his shoulders tensed and she knew he still wasn't okay.

"Not going to happen, Chaton," said Ladybug, giving him a smug look. His tension eased and he chuckled a little as she let the subject fall. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. And besides, he was right. People were indeed taking pictures of them. They got up and Ladybug let the yoyo take her wherever it wanted, followed closely by her partner.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Usually, she wouldn't have thought about it any more. Maybe her brain would have picked the memory out next time she heard him singing the song, but that would have been it. Not this time, though.

The following morning in school, Mlle. Bustier smiled at her students as she fondly stroked her growing belly. "Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Mlle. Bustier."

"Today I need to step out for an ob-gyn appointment which, unfortunately, had to be scheduled during school hours. M. Damocles agreed for me to go, and it shouldn't take me any longer than 45 minutes." She looked at Marinette. "I have assigned a quick project for you to do in pairs. I have already selected the pairs and will give the selection and all the instructions to Marinette. I leave you in the class president's capable hands."

"Will this project impact our grade, Mlle.?" asked Max, sounding a little worried.

"It will. You don't have to finish it today, it won't be due for a while and it shouldn't be too difficult for you to do well. Now if you’ll excuse me…" She beckoned Marinette to come closer and quietly explained the project. Then she dashed out of the classroom looking worriedly at her watch.

Marinette skimmed through the instructions. She really liked Mlle. Bustier and knew she wasn't going to be disappointed with her teacher’s choice. And the project looked so interesting. At least, it did until she looked at the pairing arrangements, and her heart froze.

No, that must have been a mistake on Mlle. Bustier's part. No, she couldn't possibly be paired with Adrien. That wasn't right. That wasn't how life should be. She should be paired with Alya and Adrien with Nino… but the more she read and re-read the list of pairings, the more the names Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng next to one another stood out and made her blood freeze.

On second thought, she didn't like this project. Nope. She didn't like this project at all.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous," came Chloé's trademark comment, waking her up from her bewilderment. "She's been there staring at those papers with an idiotic look on her face for the last few minutes. What are you waiting for, Dupain-Cheng? For Mlle. Bustier to return?"

'That wouldn't be a bad idea,' thought Marinette. But Chloé was right, for once. Marinette frowned as she realised that. "Oh, sorry!" she said instead and looked up. "The project is about researching traditional songs, or songs that have a tradition or a meaning in your family or in your life. We must explain in our project how these songs have shaped our life and how, or if, we carry on using them nowadays. These are the pairings."

She gave Alya a pleading look and carefully avoided glancing in Adrien's direction. "Alya can read them to you all while I go make some copies of the instructions." Her voice rose a whole octave as she said the second part of her sentence. When she saw Alya standing up to take the paper with the list of pairings from her hand, she gave her a nervous smile before literally bolting out of the door with the instructions sheet.

When she came back to class a couple of minutes later, she saw something wrong in the arrangement of the seats. Her heart started beating in her ears when she met Adrien's gaze and he gave her one of his brightest smiles. She blushed to the root of her hair. As usual, her being selfish had backfired on her badly. Alya was sitting in the first row with Nino (as was her pairing) and Adrien was sitting in Alya's place, next to her seat. All the other students had moved to sit with the person they had been paired with. Chloé looked extremely displeased with the pairing arrangements, as she was now sitting at the back, next to Max.

Marinette kept her gaze trained on Chloé and on her pouty, annoyed face as she walked back to where Alya was sitting. It was the best way to hold onto some sanity. She quickly looked at her best friend when she reached her seat and Alya winked, mouthing 'you're welcome' to her. When Marinette passed her the photocopies of the instructions and glared at her, Alya simply picked her copy, passed the other copies along, and smiled smugly, folding her arms over her chest. "I just thought it was a good idea so we could all start discussing our projects in our pairs, Marinette." She raised an eyebrow. "That's what Mlle. Bustier asked us to do in her absence, right? Have fun!" She emphasised the last word in such a tone that Marinette had no doubts as to the double meaning attached to it.

She sighed. She loved Alya. The young journalist was the person Marinette trusted more than anyone in the whole universe. But when that girl got an idea in her mind, it was extremely difficult to make her back out. And, unfortunately, no matter how many times she had explained to her that she didn't have time (or the strength) for romance in her busy schedule as Ladybug, Alya kept riding her 'Adrienette ship'.

After ensuring that everybody had gotten their copy of the instructions, like a criminal walking the gallows, Marinette climbed with heavy feet the step that separated her from her seat and collapsed into it. She didn't dare to take a single look in Adrien's direction for quite a while. When finally she gathered the courage to peek a little, she saw that he was reading the instructions for the project with interest.

"Hi, Marinette," he said and beamed at her. Marinette felt all blood rushing to her face. Oh God, she had thought she was past this. She had managed to actually have a couple of normal conversations with him lately.

She gulped awkwardly and looked up into his eyes. "H-hi!" she said, but when her blue met green, she felt her heart skip a beat. Crap. How was she going to concentrate well enough to do a project with him? Knowing that he had recently broken up with Kagami wasn't helping. At all! As easy and entertaining as the school project may be, she couldn't think of anything and only melted in a puddle of goo every time she caught sight of his eyes. And the way he looked at her. It should be illegal. Seriously, he had to stop looking at her that way. You just don't look at your 'just a friend' like that!

Right?

"Have you got any ideas about the project?" he asked and Marinette's mind finally managed to get out of the self-induced mesmerising she had gotten herself into and attempted to focus on the task.

"Oh yes. The project. Right. Yep. So…" She locked her gaze to the questions on the paper and tried to stubbornly ignore the heat she was feeling coming out of the ray of sunshine sitting next to her. She involuntarily fanned herself.

"—Hot?" he asked, and she realised that she had completely zoned out.

"Uh, yes you're hot. I mean I'm hot. Uh, I mean it's very warm, yes." She smiled sheepishly at him and blushed a little. Then, with immense effort, she moved slightly closer to him and gave her full attention to the instructions at hand. "S-so… about the project…"

"Yes?" he asked.

"I actually have a good one," she said and mentally congratulated herself for having managed to put a whole sentence together in front of him without stuttering or mixing her words once. She closed her eyes and took a big breath, trying to calm the mad beating of her heart. That seemed to work. That and the fact that with her eyes closed, she couldn't see him. "My dad always sings a song when he's baking bread. He's always said that the song helps the bread come out perfectly and if he didn't sing, the bread would be disgusting, no matter how much effort he put into it."

"Oh," said Adrien from her side, bringing her back from her self-isolated bubble. "That sounds really good. Is the song famous?"

"It is," she said and started humming it under her breath and pretending to knead the dough. "Les petits pains pétris avec amour sont bien meilleurs lorsqu'ils sortent du four…(1)"

"Oh, I know that song! The words are different, but it's the aria from the Carmen, isn't it?" For once, it didn't take any effort for her to look at him and nod. He beamed at her.

"L’amour est un oiseau rebelle," she said, turning around quickly and looking at the instructions again. "But Papa changed the words of it."

"Very clever," he said and Marinette didn't have the courage to look at him.

"Yep." She kept her eyes trained on the questions on the paper, trying her best to ignore his hand, mere centimetres from her own. "Made kneading the dough so much more fun! We used to spend hours singing the song and kneading and then having competitions to establish which bread was the best, with my mother as a judge." As she said that, her face got a dreamy expression and she got lost in the fond memories of so many afternoons of laughter and fun.

"I bet!" he said; she felt him nearly crouching over himself. "I wish I had tales as good as that to add to the project."

Marinette looked at him, her eyes now full with sadness. "Oh, Adrien, don't worry, I have plenty of other anecdotes, we can use mine!" She was surprised by how easily she managed to say that entire sentence, just to try to cheer him up. "For example when—" she started, but she saw his eyes light up suddenly; her tongue froze.

"Actually, I think I have one, too." He blushed and moved his hand to his nape, rubbing it nervously when her eyes widened.

"Really? Please do tell!" In her excitement because he had found something to talk about and had cheered up, she totally forgot about her shyness and leaned forward next to him, looking at him expectantly. He gave her a warm smile.

"You remember 'Solitude'?" he inquired and then looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"How could I ever forget?" She sighed and moved her gaze again to the list on their desk. "The time we nearly managed to watch a film together." Yes, keep focusing on the list. Don't look at him. It's working!

"Yeah," he said, his eyes losing the light they had gained seconds before.

Marinette was obviously not following her own advice and had been looking at him. So she noticed, and mentally kicked herself. "What about ‘Solitude’, and your anecdote?" she asked, noticing with a painful pang in her heart that the gleam in Adrien's eyes returned as soon as she asked the question.

"Well, as you know, my mother was the main actress in that movie." Marinette nodded. "There was a song that my mother really loved the melody of. Exactly like your dad, she changed the words of the song and used it as a lullaby to put me to sleep. Let me see if I can find the tune in my collection." He skimmed through the folders of his tablet and after searching a little while, he erupted in a victorious "aha!" Then, he proceeded to take out his ear plugs and unceremoniously popped one of them into her ear, putting the other one into his, and pressed 'play'.

When Marinette started listening to the song, she initially attempted to relax. The music was very soft and the melody from the violin was so pretty. But then, the singer's voice came into play and Marinette felt all blood draining from her face. Her hands started feeling like ice, her breath caught.

CRAP!

She recognised that tune. She attempted a smile, but based on the frown on Adrien's face, she must have only managed a nervous cringe. "You don't like it?"

She sucked her breath in. "Oh no, it's beautiful. It really is! H-how d-did your m-mother change the w-words of it?" she asked, faking enthusiasm while in reality she was dying inside. She couldn't believe it… she simply couldn't believe it!

Adrien's eyes got the softest gleam in them, a gleam she had never, ever seen. A gleam that made her fall in love with him twice as much. Her heart swell for the boy as he smiled and said, "Well, it goes like this, 'Little baby in a crib, all alone without his mommy…'" Adrien kept singing quietly, but Marinette wasn't listening anymore. As she heard his voice singing the first few words of the melody, the words didn't matter any longer. The mask didn't matter any longer. She knew that song, she knew that voice. The memory of a white version of him with piercing blue eyes singing it atop Montparnasse Tower still haunted her nightmares.

"—you think? Marinette? Are you okay?" She felt a hand passing in front of her eyes and gasped so loudly that Alya turned around and gave her a wink. Marinette paled even further.

"Uh… yes. Yes, I'm okay Ch-Adrien." Bugger! She had nearly called him Chaton! She shook her head, trying to gain some clarity and finally took a good look at Adrien, his confusion showing clearly in the frown on his face.

Oh my God.

How could she have missed it? It was him! It was REALLY him! Alya had been right when she had tried to put a cat mask on his face.

"The song was so beautiful! Thanks for singing it for me." She gave him a genuine smile. She hadn't really heard it, but anything that had such a strong connection with his mother and would give such a gorgeous gleam to his eyes was beautiful, regardless.

He beamed at her. "I'm glad. I'm not very good at singing, my mother was much better than m—" he said, but she shushed him by putting a finger over his mouth. The boldness of her act surprised her and she noticed that he had widened his eyes too.

"Shh, don't talk nonsense. You don't need to be an Opera singer, Adrien. You sang it with this." She moved her hand from his lips and put it on his chest, close to his heart. God, she had touched his chest. Just that thought was making adrenaline rush through her body. And on top of that, she could feel his heart beating madly underneath her hand for a second. Where had that boldness come from? Only because she now knew he was Chat Noir, her goofy partner, the silly dork who was always ready to crack a joke, especially at the most inappropriate times? "Your heart is all that matters, and that’s what makes it beautiful."

The softness in his gaze made her blush to the roots of her hair. She smiled wryly.

"Thank you, Marinette. It's a song that I like singing, especially when I'm alone. I also changed the words of it myself once, for the girl I love, but I'm not singing that version." He again put his hand to the nape of his neck, blushed deep red, closed his eyes and laughed nervously.

Marinette knew exactly what version he was talking about and was dying to ask him to sing it. But she knew he couldn't, because it would have jeopardised his identity. So she chose to ignore his comment. "We will have to work with your mother's version, then." She gave him a little smirk and the confusion she saw in his eyes was priceless.

'Oh, Chaton,' Marinette thought. 'There's no way you're getting away with this. No way.'

A part of her wanted to strangle him for having given his secret away like that, but another part of her knew perfectly well that if she had been any other person, that song would have meant nothing. It wasn't his fault; he simply didn't know he had sung the same song to the same girl twice in 24 hours.

Then, an even smaller part of her acknowledged what Adrien had just said — that he had changed the wording of that song for 'the girl he loved', and it suddenly all clicked.

So that was it. It was Ladybug all this time. Ladybug was the girl who didn't like his jokes, not Kagami.

She had spent a fair amount of time feeling jealous of… herself, while rejecting Chat Noir… for himself. The irony of that was unmissable!

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few days were pure agony for Marinette. She tried. She really tried to take Adrien to a place where they could talk and be completely honest. Tell him that she knew his identity. And of course, because she had tried so hard to do it, it had been basically impossible.

The first time that she tried, she had asked him to finish their project in the library with her just after school. Adrien had made quite a few phone calls to change his schedule, and had had a small argument with Nathalie to make her understand that the grade for that paper was going to influence his overall course grade. But as they had sat and she was gathering the courage to talk, the akuma alert rang and Adrien just fled, using the excuse that during akuma alerts his father wanted him safe.

That was his usual excuse. Gosh, how could have she fallen for it up to now?

The second time, she tried to find some private time between the end of his fencing training and his Chinese lesson, but Kagami had been so rough that day that he ended up with a small injury to his back and had to go home early.

The third time, Ladybug tried to talk to him at the end of an akuma attack, but it just didn't work out: they had only one minute left before detransforming and Chat Noir 'had to s-cat'.

The fourth time she tried during patrol. But, suddenly, the whole town seemed to need their help. They were pulled away from each other left and right until it became too late and Chat Noir just… had to go again.

The fifth time she set up a meeting to discuss the matter at hand. She organised it late at night, to make sure that there wouldn't be any snoopers and that Adrien had plenty of time in his schedule to allow a proper discussion to take place. But, of course, as soon as she started talking, the akuma alert went off, and after a long and tiring battle, it was time to go home, as they had school in the morning.

So the sixth time, she cornered him behind a chimney, grabbed his shoulders with her hands, slammed his back against the wall, and looked him straight in the eye.

"M'lady, if you wanted to make out you could have said so," said Chat Noir a bit out of breath, a nervous smile curling his lips. She looked at the position they were in and mentally screamed because now that he had pointed it out, she couldn't unsee it and her inner shy self took control and tied her tongue, not allowing her to say more.

So the following time she wrote it down. She prepared a very heartfelt letter where she didn't reveal his identity (you never know, someone may get their hands on it and discover his identity) but explained to him what had happened and how she had found out. But when she gave him the paper to read, he scratched his head and looked at her funny. "Th-that's a really sweet drawing of Chat Noir, M'lady, it's very nice of you, I'll treasure it, thank you."

Ladybug snatched the paper back from his hand, to realise that it was the drawing of Chat Noir that Manon had drawn that afternoon, when she had babysat her.

Shoot. That meant that Manon had… her letter! She felt all blood drain from her face, so much so that Chat Noir asked her if she had seen a ghost.

"No, I'm fine. I'll be right back, don't move!" she said and fled. But it took her a very long time to reach Nadja's house, realise to her horror that Nadja had found the letter (because Manon had wanted to show mommy her beautiful drawing) and manage to somehow explain to Nadja that she had the habit of writing… fanfictions (hey! She had to say something…) about Ladybug and Chat Noir and she had accidentally put a chapter of her latest story in Manon's school bag instead of her drawing, which she promptly returned, obtaining her letter back in exchange. By the time she transformed again to head back to their meeting point, she had a voice message from Chat Noir telling her that he'd had to go. He had also added that he wouldn't have been able to transform unless it was an akuma alert in the following few days because of something going on in his civilian life. She knew perfect well what it was—the summer line of the Agreste brand was being introduced and he had back to back photoshoots which included shooting at evening times.

She couldn't leave it that long. It was so frustrating it wasn't even funny. She had to talk to him, she had to clarify things. Why was the world against her? The problem was that they were too noticeable as superheroes, and as Marinette and Adrien, his schedule was just too full, and hers wasn't empty, either.

"What can I do, Tikki?" she mused that evening, sitting at her desk. "I can't keep it a secret too much longer or he's going to get upset that I found out and didn't tell him. But it just seems to be an impossible task!"

Tikki flew in front of her nose. "I personally don't know how to help you, Marinette. But Sass had an idea last night, would you like to know what it is?"

"Of course!" She looked at the small snake kwami. "Tell me, Sass. What's your idea?"

"Well…" started the kwami, his expression almost emotionless, but his voice much more suave. "I wassss talking to Mullo the other day; he really enjoyed it when you were Multimousssse. And even if the young lad made me work for monthssss almost without a resssst, I like him. Hissss heart issss in the right place. What if you recccccycle a couple of lessssss known ssssuperheroes, sssso that you're lesssss noticeable and you have more time to talk during a patrol?"

Marinette blinked. And blinked again. "Do you mean recycling Multimouse and Aspik?"

Sass nodded.

"I don't know if I like this," said Marinette, touching her chin dubiously with her fingers. "Haven't I been warned so many times that it's not a good idea to use the Miraculouses for selfish reasons?"

Tikki sighed. "Yes, you're right Marinette. But if you can't manage to talk to Chat Noir in any other way, you have no choice. It's your duty as the Guardian to inform him that his identity has been compromised."

Marinette seemed to be thinking carefully about it. "So you're telling me that I wouldn't be using the Miraculouses for selfish reasons?"

"Maybe a little ssselfish," replied Sass. "But you would be also doing your duty asss a Guardian. Which issn't sssselfish, issss it?"

"Don't know if I'm totally convinced, but it does start to look like that’s my only option." Marinette sighed. "I hate the idea of having to lie to him, though. I'll keep trying a little longer, maybe?"

oOoOoOoOoOo

And that's how Ladybug ended up knocking at Adrien Agreste's window, later that night. Adrien looked at her with surprise and ran to the window to let her in.

"Ladybug! To what do I owe the honour—" he started to say.

She smiled. "Adrien, I need to talk to you. Do you think it's safe for us to talk here?"

He looked warily at his watch and scratched his head. "There shouldn't be a problem right now. It's nearly dinner time, though, so it needs to be quick." He pointed at his sofa and asked, "Do you want to sit down?"

"It's very kind of you, thank you, but it’s probably better if I stay by the window, just in case," she said, eyeing the door with concern. He nodded and smiled softly.

"So, what can I do for you?" His eyes sparkled with joy and Ladybug felt like melting on the spot. Why was it so hard for her to talk to him? He was her minou, after all. Her goofy, carefree and silly partner. Her best friend. Her crush. Scratch that, damn it! Her best friend! Keep that thought.

She could do this!

No, she couldn't...

"Well, you see, the thing is…" She blushed and started fiddling with her fingers. Her gaze darted everywhere except to his face, and she felt her cheeks getting very warm. Unbidden, her eyes drifted up to meet his, and the intensity she saw there rendered her speechless.

Shoot. That wasn't the right time to feel flustered!

She sighed and took a big massive breath, but as she finally gained the courage to start talking, she heard a knock at the door, and her heart started pounding in her ears. Adrien gestured for her to go outside, which she did gladly, hoping to be able to come back soon. But Adrien left the room following Nathalie and Ladybug eventually had to leave altogether.

The following evening she was at his window again, about an hour later than the night before.

"Is now a better time?" she inquired.

"I had dinner, but unfortunately my house is not very safe or private, Ladybug, not until everyone else has gone to bed. And it would feel… improper to invite you to my room that late at night!" Both blushed to the roots of their hair and Ladybug had to agree with him. Yes, it would have been totally improper.

"Can I 'kidnap' you then? I can take you somewhere a bit more private and bring you back when we're done." When she heard herself saying that, she blushed even more deep red. "On second thought, scratch that too. It came out really wrong!"

Adrien laughed softly with his eyes closed and brought a hand to the nape of his neck. She knew him too well to not know that he only did that when he was terribly embarrassed. "You can kidnap me, if you want, I don't mind. But if somebody comes looking for me and they don't find me, I'm in trouble."

He had just finished saying that, when someone indeed knocked at his door, even this time. Ladybug just zipped her yoyo and fled.

Hence, Marinette gave up. Sass' idea didn't sound that bad at the end of the day. It was her duty as a Guardian to inform Adrien that she now knew his identity and if having a meeting as Aspik and Multimouse was the only way to do it, well, that's how it would be done. Even if it meant lying to him.

So the following night, she tapped at his window again. "Adrien, I've come here to ask you a favour. We better be quick, before someone knocks on your door tonight too!"

"I'm all ears, Ladybug!" he said, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of pride and mischief.

"Well," she said and looked up, "You see, something has come up in my civilian life and I have some… superhero things I need to do." She eyed him as she said so and noticed clearly how he gasped at her words. Had she done it wrong? Maybe she should have thought of a better excuse? She hated lying to him. "I'm going to be away for a few days and I need someone to support Chat Noir in my absence."

"Oh?" hummed Adrien, his hand scratching his chin. He was probably wondering why she hadn't spoken to Chat Noir about it yet.

"I tried to tell Chat Noir in the last few days, but I was always interrupted. And he told me that this week he has quite a lot on his plate, so I don't really want to leave him alone. That's why I thought I could reach out to you. You were great when you used the Miraculous of the Snake. I know it didn't work out then, but you tried really hard and this time there's no Desperada. Second Chance is a great tool to use on patrol, if you'd ever need me. You would just need to call me and I would be back using the Horse Miraculous in a dash."

Adrien looked up. Then he looked down. Then he blushed and scratched the nape of his neck with his right hand. "I would love to help you, Ladybug, but I have a crazy schedule this week and can't guarantee I would be able to patrol the city."

Ladybug pouted and sighed. Nope. She wasn't going to let it happen. "I am aware that you're busy, Adrien, and I'm sorry that I have to ask you to do this in the first place. But you're one of the very few people I feel I can trust, after Chat Noir." She saw his proud smile as she said that and felt her insides melting. She shook her head. She wasn't going to get distracted again. Not today. "I-I k-know for certain th-that you would be a fantastic Miraculous holder. And I need someone whose identity hasn't been exposed to Hawkmoth. You're the perfect choice and it would be only for a few days. If any akuma attacks, you can call me with your Snake communicator on the lyre." She looked at him with her best impression of puppy eyes. She saw Adrien scratching his nape a little harder and then sigh and slope his shoulders.

"Okay, I can give it a go if you want me to."

Ladybug beamed at him and picked up the Snake Miraculous from inside her yoyo. "Adrien Agreste. This is the Miraculous of the Snake, which gives the power of Intuition. You will use it for the greater good. Once your mission will be accomplished, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

"Yes, Ladybug," he said softly, a gleam of delight in his green eyes. She showed him her hand flat open, palm up, holding the Ouroboros bracelet on it. Adrien picked it up a little reluctantly and as he put it on his wrist, Sass appeared in a flash of light.

"Niccce to ssssee you again, my lad."

"Hi Sass." Adrien giggled when the kwami twirled around him with a little smirk.

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea, Ladybug thought, and was nearly going to change her mind and take the Miraculous back. But she couldn't say or do anything more, because someone knocked at the door. AGAIN. She gave him a quick wave and zipped her way out of the window. As she landed on a near rooftop, she saw Nathalie coming into the room and talking to him. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had done it at last!

She hid behind a chimney, took out from her yoyo the Miraculous of the Mouse and donned it. Then, she whispered "Spots off." Tikki and Mullo appeared in a flash of light.

"Is it necessary to use the Miraculous of the Mouse, Tikki?" asked Marinette, still not fully convinced.

"You can certainly try to talk to him as Ladybug, Marinette. But it may cause the same kind of problems as when you were trying to talk to Chat Noir. Besides, you just told him that you're going away!"

"That's true." Marinette sighed. "But maybe I can talk to him tonight?"

"Are you sure that talking tonight would be a good idea?" asked Tikki. She flew a bit higher than the chimney and looked into Adrien's room. "He seems to be having quite a long discussion with Nathalie."

Marinette sighed. "I will wait for a while here, in case he decides to head out for a quick stroll, so that maybe I can talk to him today. Otherwise, I'll look for him tomorrow, as Multimouse."

And so Marinette waited for quite some time. She saw Adrien pace his room and talk to Sass. And to Plagg. Marinette facepalmed in frustration: now that she knew, and was actually paying attention, it was so easy to see that Adrien was Chat Noir. And it was quite jarring to realise how easy it would have been to notice, just passing by his window one day, and spotting Plagg.

Now that she looked at the way the kwami of Destruction moved around the room, she realised that he wasn't as discreet as Tikki. No, Plagg was definitely the very opposite of discreet. Even the whole crew of kwamis she was hiding in her room were more discreet than the black embodiment of Destruction. And all those security cameras… a shiver ran down Marinette's spine. Thank God kwamis weren't detected by technology! She kept watching Adrien for a while, until she saw that he was getting ready to go to bed, and she hastily zipped her yoyo to the nearest chimney and disappeared in the darkness.

For a couple of days, Adrien didn't transform. He also looked very tired. Every evening when she started snooping at his room from the same far away chimney, she could see him coming back home later and later, crash on the bed, Plagg trying to lift his head by his hair but failing miserably, and after a while, he would drag himself to his desk and spend hours doing what Marinette supposed was his homework (which she too should have been doing and felt really guilty about letting it slide).

Maybe it had been a bad idea. Yes, it definitely had been a bad idea. Maybe Adrien was afraid of transforming into Aspik again? Marinette couldn't blame him after the traumatic experience he had had the first time. Plus, there was that nagging prickle that came from using the two Miraculouses for a selfish reason, which she wasn't still very happy or convinced about. No, it had been another bad idea. She better become Ladybug again and knock at his window once more and get the Miraculous back.

But as she thought that, Marinette stopped in her tracks. Adrien was pacing angrily in his room. Nathalie was also in the room with him, and Gabriel Agreste came immediately after. They seemed to be having quite a heated argument, and Marinette felt bad about snooping. True, she was too far for eavesdropping or making out anything of what was going on, but the situation seemed to leave Adrien extremely shaken and she knew he wouldn't have been impressed had he known that she had seen that.

When Gabriel and Nathalie finally left the room, she saw Adrien crash onto his bed and lay on it face down for a long time. Probably crying all his tears out. The scene left Marinette extremely surprised.

Yes, Adrien had said an innumerable amount of times that the situation at home wasn't the best. He had said that his father was controlling, that he didn't allow him to do anything a normal teenager would do. But Marinette had never seen Adrien losing it so badly. He had always been so calm and controlled, even in his sadness or in his anger.

What she saw in his room instead was a boy red in the face, who screamed, who stomped his feet, who hit the wall with his fist (and then held it for a long time with the other hand, probably trying to soothe the pain). She saw Plagg and Sass trying to console him, Plagg lowering his ears flat and retreating inside his cheese cabinet. What was going on? She got seriously worried that he might be akumatised and kept a watch, scanning the sky for any sign of akumas, but no akuma came.

How weird.

Maybe it was the time to knock at his window and get Sass back? Seeing her may cheer him up, and if she managed to finally talk to him, and be honest with him, that may be enough to make his day become better, no matter what was the reason for his argument with his father.

But suddenly, she saw a flash of turquoise light and Adrien transformed into Aspik and jumped out of his window with ease. Shoot. She had missed her chance, and now it was too late! Marinette transformed into Multimouse and started following him around — although keeping up with his pace was a problem because he was very fast, much faster than he'd ever been during patrol.

Probably he needed to vent, and he vented by running on the rooftops. Tikki would maybe even call this a selfish use of his power, but Marinette couldn't blame him. After all, she'd done the same when she'd nearly had a breakdown after her breakup with Luka. And she knew he loved running on the rooftops. It gave him a sense of freedom, and now more than ever, Marinette understood why. She finally had the whole picture and could see right through his mask. And what she saw surprised her. She had always thought that, despite having a controlling father, Adrien's life was exciting and beautiful. But what she had spied on in the last couple of days, and especially the argument with Gabriel he'd just had, and his reaction, gave her a completely different picture.

Eventually, Adrien landed on the usual rooftop where Chat Noir always waited for her to start patrol. He sat in the exact place Chat Noir used to sit, starting to swing his feet and legs exactly the way Chat usually did. Marinette landed just behind him and she expected him to turn around and notice her. But no, he didn't. She moved near him and sat down next to him like she usually did. He still didn't acknowledge her but kept staring into the nothing in front of him. She could still see the tears, and how red his eyes were, even with the modified sclera of the Snake Miraculous.

"Hello?" she tried to say. He didn't show any sign of having heard her. So she became more brave and passed a hand in front of his eyes. He got startled and seemed to wake up from a dream. He turned around hastily, searching his surroundings like a cornered prey. When he saw her, his eyes grew wide.

"Ma-Multimouse?" he muttered, and then his eyes widened, he blushed profusely and bit his lip, having probably realised his mistake—as Aspik, he wasn't supposed to know Multimouse's name.

Marinette smiled and chose to ignore it: she hadn't done this to humiliate him, only to talk to him. And she already knew the truth. No need to dig the blade deeper.

"Hi!" she said and waved. "Aspik, I suppose? Ladybug told me I would find you at some point. Did she tell you about me?"

Adrien blushed, looked down and rubbed the nape of his neck with his hand. "Uh, yes, she did. Nice to meet you!" She saw him relaxing, probably relieved that he had found a way to mask his little slip. "Ladybug told me amazing things about you!" he added, sending blood rushing to her face.

"D-did she?" She knew it was a lie, but it was so nice to self-indulge for once.

Adrien nodded, his eyes closed, a soft smile curling his lips. "Aha," he said. "You're amazing. I was a bit afraid of going solo on patrol, so she told me about how fantastic you were against Kwamibuster and it made me feel so much better. Wow. Wearing and unifying all those Miraculouses must have been an achievement and a half! I only ever unified two and was exhausted at the end of the battle."

He thought there was no harm in saying it. After all, this was Multimouse, a.k.a. Marinette. She had worked alongside them only against Kwamibuster and had never met Aspik personally. She had no way to verify his words or to doubt them. And besides, she wouldn't have been able to know that it had been Chat Noir and not Aspik to unify Sass and Plagg. The only one who knew that detail was Ladybug.

Marinette's gaze softened. She looked into Adrien's eyes and all she could see was true admiration. Yes, he was lying because he had to protect his identity, but the feeling he was expressing about her? That was indeed truthful, and real. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks and had to lower her gaze. "Thank you." She crouched a little on herself to recover from her embarrassment. Then she looked up and smiled warmly. "You're not so bad, yourself."

Adrien lowered his gaze. "Uh, you must be mistaking me for the other holder of the Snake. I-I only held this Miraculous once, and the mission was such a disaster that I ended up nearly afraid of accepting the Snake ever again." He pulled his legs up and hugged them at the knees, sighing loudly. "I'm a total failure."

Marinette put a hand on his shoulder. He gasped and looked at her as she said softly, "Don't say that, Aspik. Ladybug told me that you were really brave. You failed, that's true, but you kept trying, stubbornly, tenaciously, trying your hardest to keep her safe."

His eyes had again tears in them as he objected, "And yet, I failed. The other holder was much better than me. The only good thing I did was giving the Miraculous up." He sighed and his voice cracked. "After having tried to save M—uh, Ladybug 25,913 times!" He hugged his legs tighter and crouched over himself, as if trying to disappear and drown in his misery.

But then, Marinette did something that he would never have expected her to do. She moved closer and wrapped him into a hug. He couldn't avoid opening his eyes wide as his head shot up at the gesture, allowing Marinette to hug him tighter. Wow. Um, Marinette was being very friendly with someone she was supposed to never have met, but Adrien shrugged off the thought as soon as it came to his mind. His shock only lasted for a second before his legs went back to hanging off the roof, and his arms wrapped around the girl as he hugged her back.

He didn't know how long they sat there like that. All he knew was that he didn't want the hug to end. He needed it. It was an actual physical need, especially after the massive row he'd had with his father earlier. Especially after he had been told that he needed to completely redo the three-day long, exhausting photoshoot he had just finished, because his father wasn't happy with the lighting of the pictures. That he wouldn't have had not even one day of rest, and he would have needed to skip two days of school to catch up with his father's requests.

But he didn't want to think of his father right now. He didn't want to think of the three days of pure torture he had ahead of himself. All he wanted to concentrate on was her wonderful scent. Her scent that intoxicated his nostrils. She smelled of baked goods and wildflower, with a hint of jasmine. A perfume so sweet he wished it would stay forever under his nose.

She was warm. And soft.

Eventually, however, they had to break the hug, and when his gaze met the bluebell eyes behind the mouse mask, his heart sped up. They were so full of empathy that he wanted to just squeal and hug her again.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Sometimes the real hero is the one who realises his mistake and admits defeat. It must have taken a lot of courage to give the Miraculous back, to accept that someone else was more suited for it. You've been so brave, Aspik." She cupped a hand on his cheek as she said that and stroked the skin under his eye with her gloved thumb.

Adrien blushed to the base of his mask. "Thank you!" He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and gave Marinette a genuine smile, one of those smiles that lit up his whole face.

Marinette blushed. "You're good. I m-mean, you're okay. Uh, it's okay." This made Adrien's smile grow wider. Yes, that was still Marinette underneath that mask. And no matter what he was wearing, somehow she still managed to word-vomit in front of him, even if she didn't know that it was him. Some things would never change.

He looked at the view in front of him. The afternoon light had given in slowly to dusk as he had been venting his frustration running on the rooftops, and now the Iron Lady was already lit up and towered proudly in front of them, as the lights of the city slowly popped on in the blue and indigo canopy of the sky.

Marinette observed him for a long time as his thoughts got lost in the beauty of the view, not daring to say anything, to not bring him back to reality. He seemed to be in a much better place. She had nearly decided to stand up and leave him to his réverie, when she found herself stroking something soft and… purring?

She looked down at her lap and saw a little black cat. She gave a quick look around: there were a couple of skylights on the roof and they were both open, so maybe the cat had come out of one of them. She smiled softly and started petting the small creature.

"Oh, bonsoir petit chat noir, how are you doing tonight, mon minou?"

She hadn't even realised what she had said, until she heard Adrien's—uh, well, Chat Noir's voice at her side.

His voice was still a bit groggy, but she heard it loud and clear. "I'm as pawsome as I can be. I always am when I'm with you, M'lad—" He had playfully leaned on his back to give her a flirty look, a gesture that was so typical of her black clad partner that she could almost see his ears and blond mane popping out of the snake's mask. That's when he froze, gasping so loudly it echoed in the emptiness of their rooftop.

Her gaze shot to him and she paled. His mouth gaped open, his eyes as big as saucers, his face as white as a sheet when he realised that she was holding a black cat, and that's whom she had been talking to. He was so deep into his thoughts that he had gone into auto mode. And somehow his auto mode had mistaken Marinette's voice for his Lady's.

"Shoot. Sorry, Marinette, I-I can explain. Uh, I mean, Multimouse." He put both hands at the sides of his head and roared in frustration. "UGGGHHHHH I'm such an idiot!"

Last thing he expected was hearing Marinette's crystalline laughter echo in the darkness. He sheepishly looked at her, his heart beating in his ears. She let go of the cat, who was starting to wiggle and demanding his freedom, and wiped the corner of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say." He looked down, his hands resting nervously on his thighs. "I will have to talk to Ladybug and explain to her what happened. I'm so screwed, she knows the identity of Aspik!" His fingers pressed in the flesh of his thighs as he said that.

Marinette put again a hand on his shoulder, trying to take him out of his self-induced panic mode. "Hey, hey, Chaton? Chaton please look at me. Listen!" This was all her fault. She had to clear the misunderstanding. She really had to. She held her breath, put a hand under his chin and lifted his head. When their gazes met, though, all her resolution faltered. There it was, the moment she had been waiting for. She HAD to tell him. She had to explain everything. For once, there was no akuma attack, nobody was trying to take pictures of them, everything was perfect. So… why couldn't she say a single word? It was as if her tongue had completely tied in her mouth, her heart had started to beat madly in her ears and her breathing had also suddenly stopped.

She was so not ready.

But she had to do it. It wasn't fair on him.

BUT… she was SO not ready.

She blushed profusely and looked at him in that cringe expression she always seemed to reserve for his civilian self. "I… I already knew that you were Chat Noir," she finally blurted out. His eyes became even bigger somehow.

"How? How did you know?"

She sighed. There you go. It was the time to let go of all the secrets. "Be-because a couple of d-days ago, in school, you sang me that song," she said, not even knowing how it was possible to talk with her heart in her mouth. "A-and you had sung it to me already just the night before, mon minou."

It took him a moment. He looked down, a big massive frown furrowing his brows. He played carelessly with the Miraculous he wore on his right ring finger for a very long time, too long for Marinette to bear. She couldn't breathe until the moment that he gasped in recognition and his gaze locked onto hers.

"So I wasn't wrong when I called you M'lady? You're Ladybug?" He grabbed her hands and held them tighter when she nodded.

Marinette couldn't believe how quickly the look of pure delight and joy brightened his face. As soon as she nodded, his panic disappeared in an instant. She had never, ever seen him this happy. EVER. He was so happy that it seemed to be bursting out of him.

"Can… can I hug you?" he asked and gave her a shy look. She barely managed to nod and he had already wrapped her tight.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien. I should have told you after I found out. I did try to… but between your schedule and the akumas and people keeping us busy at patrol, it's been almost impossible. I tried so many times, but we were always interrupted. It had come to the point that I was desperate to talk to you. I didn't want to keep you out of the loop with this one, you deserved to know. I'm the Guardian after all, so I had a duty to inform you that you had accidentally revealed your identity. And then Sass had this idea, that we could have a much better opportunity to talk as Aspik and Multimouse." She broke the hug and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry I lied to you to make sure you took Sass; I really thought it would be the only way to get some privacy." Her voice was cracking a little, but he put a finger on her mouth and shushed her.

"Shhhh, don't worry, M'lady. I'm the happiest cat—uh, snake—alive." He chuckled. "I finally know who my Lady is… and she's none other than the most beautiful and amazing girl I know." He cupped a hand on her cheek. "No wonder I fell for you twice."

Now it was Marinette's turn to open her eyes wide and gasp. "What?" she said in a choked whisper.

He blushed deep red, but his gaze didn't lose hers. "For a long time now I had realised that you weren't only a friend, Marinette. I actually doubt that you ever were. It's just," he lowered his gaze, "it's just that I thought that by loving you, I was betraying Ladybug and… I felt guilty, so I justified it in my head as you being only a friend. I had to keep you in my mind as only a friend because otherwise the guilt would eat at me. And I really tried to do it… but I failed miserably."

"Oh," was all she managed to say. She kept looking down because she couldn't lift her gaze, she was too afraid.

"Although I must say that I do feel a little hurt that you lied to me," he admitted. And that's when Marinette found the courage to look at him in the eye again.

"I'm so sorry… is there anything I can do that would make it up for you?" She didn't know where she had found the courage to ask. This left her in a very vulnerable position, but she knew that Adrien would never take advantage of it.

He gave her a look full of mischief.

Bloody hell, would Adrien really take advantage of it? Cheeky cat… uh, er, snake!

"You could exchange a lie with a… truth?" He winked at her, leaving her confused.

"What have you got in mind?" She raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. "Since I know your identity now, you could maybe tell me who the other boy is? So I can put my heart at peace and get some closure?" As he said that, his smile faded into a frown and he slouched his shoulders.

"Oh, um, wow…" Marinette hid her face behind her fingers. She DEFINITELY wasn't ready for THAT! "Can I have the spare question?" She laughed nervously and tensed like a violin's cord.

Adrien pouted. "Why, M'lady? What's the point in keeping hidden any longer? I know who you are now! Why keep it such a secret? Is he a guy I know?"

Marinette looked up. Then she looked down. Then she started picking at her fingers, and attempting to chew her nails for how uncomfortable she felt. Not that it worked through the gloves of her suit, but she did try! Why was it so easy for him to say it but for her, even after all he had just said, it was the most difficult thing ever?

She eventually dared to look at him and his gaze was so soft that she felt like melting. She gulped and her throat clenched. "Adrien Agreste," she muttered so quietly that she was almost certain he wouldn't have heard, had he not been transformed.

But she wasn't that lucky (or maybe she was?) because he gave her a confused look and asked, "Yeah?"

She sighed and cringed, but muttered even softer, "It was, and it is, Adrien Agreste."

He gasped, sucking all his breath in. "ME?"

It felt almost exhilarating. As soon as he said that, it was as if a massive weight had suddenly fallen off her shoulders. And seeing his reaction, his surprise, the adorable blush that was dusting his cheeks…

"Y-you," she whispered and smiled nervously again, tensing her shoulders. "Although I must admit that recently it was getting more and more difficult to resist Chat Noir." She saw the happy smile that popped on his lips as she said so and cupped a hand again on his cheek. It was now or never. "Silly Minou. Can I kiss you?"

His smile widened, as he wrapped her into a hug. "I thought you would never ask!" he said as he pulled back and, without a second thought, pressed his lips to hers.

Fin

Notes:

(1) "The little breads kneaded with love are much better when they're fresh off the oven…". This is from the French version of Bakerix. I know that in English Marinette and her dad don't say words while humming this tune in the episode, but in French they do, and I needed to have actual words, so I went for the French version!

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Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

Lately my friend Khan has been a bit down, so I decided to write a story for him with his favourite part of the square, SnekMouse. It has been really fun to write, I hope you will like it and drop me a note to tell me what you think.

If you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon.

8 notes · View notes

chenoehi · 4 years ago

Text

Points about U.S. Election

(As I was typing this, Biden has taken the lead in GA but it’s still not called yet. Trump will undoubtedly demand a recount so if it’s really close a recount could flip it back for Trump.)

Just a little update from my previous post on the election results, although no one cares about my opinion. Rest assured, this is purely for my own sanity.

First thoughts:

1. Arizona being wishy washy throws a real monkey wrench in the wheels of this circus train from the perspective of Biden’s bid. It sounds crazy given how the Associated Press operates when it comes to elections (being very careful to call states too early) but the AP might have fucked up. Ironically, it would mean that Fox News, the only conservative leaning major network news outlet, also fucked up by calling AZ for Biden, an even more confusing fact when we consider that CNN, NBC, MSNBC, and other liberal leaning outlets have NOT called AZ for Biden. It has been amusing seeing conservatives on Twitter (particularly the trollish, nasty, insult-slinging ones—as opposed to normal every day conservatives) say fuck you to Fox News where Republicans have been tuning in to worship at the alter of Trump for the last four years. Politics always drives home what fickle creatures we really are. This is no offense to Republicans honestly. I have little use for broadcasters with their own shows who call themselves journalists. CNN, NBC, and MSNBC are in the tank for Democrats and Fox News is Trumpland. Fox News used to be more moderate when Bush was president but that’s been a lifetime ago. Now politics are even more idealogical than they were before, and the Republican voters are almost embracing Trump now more than they are embracing conservative values. Or at least that’s what I see in my corner of the deep red South, aka Tennessee. I digress. Point is, true journalists report the facts with no outward bias. These people are political commentators. I have a journalism degree. I wrote for my school paper and helped run it. I covered the 2016 election. I’ve met real journalists at AP and newspapers. Those people are not it.

2. In other news, Nevada may not even matter now if Biden can flip Georgia and Pennsylvania (which is happening in GA and may soon happen in PA if Biden can keep the upward momentum). That would make my points in the previous post almost irrelevant now. It goes to show how unpredictable this election has been, more so than expected. If Biden flips GA for good, Trump will have to win every other state (Alaska, North Carolina, Nevada, and Pennsylvania) AND flip Arizona back to gain just 269 electoral votes. If he fails to flip AZ or if he flips AZ and then loses just one other state it’s game over. If Biden wins GA and AZ still flips for Trump because it was called too early, then his 253 electoral votes (sans the 11 that AZ gives him) will turn into 269. He will still have to win one more state to gain 270. If Biden loses AZ and then doesn’t win any other state outside of GA he has 269 votes, and if Trump wins all the other states (PA, NC, NV, AL, AZ) he has 269 votes. If that scenario happens, neither men will get the needed 270 votes and we are royally fucked. If you think Trump demanding a recount in Wisconsin with a 20k gap (SAME AS HIS OWN GAP IN 2016, TALK ABOUT HYPOCRISY, NOT TO MENTION 2016 ALSO SAW A 10K GAP IN MICHIGAN) is bad, and if you think it’s really bad that we don’t have a President-elect at almost 3 days post election, imagine the horror of a nationwide recount or worse.

3. No one has any fucks to give about Alaska and North Carolina, still.

4. I really didn’t want to spend energy talking about Trump but I just find it so tragic that he wants the votes to continue to be counted in Arizona where the mail-ins are now turning it around in his favor, meanwhile in Pennsylvania and Georgia he tossed out lawsuits to stop the counting because there’s all this corruption and voter fraud because his lead is slipping due to the mail-ins and absentees. Oh, and he needed to move his people just a few feet closer to observe the ballots being counted, although if they’re close enough to read the language of the ballots then that constitutes an invasion of privacy. But everything is gravy in Arizona. #allvotesmatter. No disrespect to BLM, full stop. I find irony in comparing that phrase to this voting situation because Trump certainly wants conservative votes in Arizona to matter because it means something to him. Whereas, votes incoming from Fulton County in GA (Atlanta) and from Philadelphia, PA, and Detroit, MI—all heavily Black-populated cities—are being scrutinized and declared criminal. I find it tragically ironic, so I use that comparison here and elsewhere. I’m not making light of the movement by doing so (just to be clear).

Now, a break down of this shitshow:

What did we expect to happen?

Both camps thought they could win by a landslide.

Both camps have had their egos bruised.

We expected Trump to make accusations if he didn’t perform well or if he lost.

Trump already set the precedent for this behavior in 2016 when he complained that a loss then would be because the vote was rigged. Turns out, it wasn’t. And his paper thin margins were totally fine and not the cause of voter fraud and fishiness and he didn’t steal the election.

We did not expect him to go quietly into that night. The exact opposite of what happened in 2016 is happening now and Trump’s hypocrisy and immaturity is showing full force. Even some of his supporters are saying he’s whack. That’s bad, but then again, many Republicans have had concerns over his Tweets and rhetoric for the last four years and have done nothing about it. Consequently, he’s lost a lot of former supporters and I don’t even know what his cabinet looks like now. I digress.

Everyone expected Biden to carry most of the mail-in and absentee ballots and for Trump to carry most of the in-person votes.

That is exactly what has happened in pretty much all the swing states save for AZ.

Why is that?

Trump encouraged his followers to vote in-person during early voting periods and to turn out big on election day and specifically to not mail their ballots in or use absentee ballots. Meanwhile, Biden encouraged people to mail in their ballots to stay safe.

We always have some mail-ins and some absentees each election cycle but because of COVID this 2020 election means that we have had millions of these types of ballots this year, which are always more time consuming to process and count.

In Michigan alone, 2/3 of the state cast mail-in or absentee ballots. Michigan was one of the states like Wisconsin where Trump’s early lead was dashed once the in-person ballots were finished being tallied. Unlike in Arizona, Georgia, and Pennsylvania, Michigan has ended up with a gap of nearly 150k votes for Biden and doesn’t yet appear to be subject to a recount. Meanwhile, Wisconsin went to Biden with a 20k gap but will seemingly be subjected to a recount. The former governor of Wisconsin (who is in the tank for Trump) even spoke out initially and said that unless they can uncover a severe degree of voter fraud or mishandling of ballots (transposed numbers, etc) then 20k is a lot to overcome.

What has happened? The Red Mirage and the Blue Shift.

Generally, in-person votes are the easiest and quickest to tabulate. Mail-in ballots and absentee ballots take longer because they take longer to be processed. Then there are provisional ballots, which generally take the longest because these are votes from people who might actually be ineligible to vote (possibly because of residency status or criminal history; for example, if the latter then their voting rights may have been temporarily suspended).

Key swing states like Florida, Texas, and maybe Ohio (but specifically FL and TX) were allowed to start counting their mail-in and absentee ballots early.

FL and TX saw Biden having an early lead before ultimately Trump gained the lead and won as soon as the in-person ballots started being counted. So, mail-ins and absentee ballots tallied first, in-person ballots tallied second in these states. A Blue Mirage, and then a Red Shift.

However, news commentators have long been discussing the following scenario: the Red Mirage, aka, the tallied in-person votes overwhelmingly skewing Republican being counted first and making states appear to be in Trump’s favor when in actuality Biden would win them in the end once mail-ins and absentees were counted last, causing the Blue Shift (aka the current shift we are seeing now in several swing states, but also harkening back to the 2016 election when Trump caused what was dubbed a “Red Wave” when he swept almost all of the swing states. Aka, now a Blue Shift nationwide).

Why does all this matter to the accusations of voter fraud?

Prior to election day, the GOP (conservatives/Republicans) blocked certain key swing states from being able to count mail-ins and absentees early on. That means that all the ballots that were received in certain states during early voting periods and right up to election day (November 3rd) were unable to be counted until the day of the election.

This block happened in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin. I don’t know about Georgia, I don’t think this happened with GA but maybe.

So, unlike FL and TX, which leaned for Biden early on and then shifted, the opposite is happening in PA and GA, and we have seen Biden take MI and WI both.

Arizona is an anomaly because although Biden was expected to sweep a majority of the mail-in and absentee ballots, and has to a large degree nationwide, in Arizona it has been Trump who has taken a larger % of those ballots. Arizona is kind of a coin toss because Trump has a lot of supporters there, and it goes to Republicans most of the time. So Biden’s lead (and possible win) is surprising, but Trump is closing the gap slowly.

What are some things that people are forgetting?

One critical thing is that the USPS (U.S. Postal Service) fucking sucks.

It was reported either on election day or the next morning that the USPS misplaced 300k ballots. They were given more time by a judge to sweep their facilities to find these ballots (how tf do you lose 300k ballots in the first place).

The USPS has been noncompliant when it comes to this and other issues, causing several setbacks and problems.

Many ballots were delivered late. Republicans said that was fraud. They wanted to stop the counting of these ballots in some places. But as long as the ballots were mailed (aka postmarked) by election day then they are still valid, legal ballots. The USPS not delivering them on time is a separate issue.

Some of those ballots are for Trump and other candidates. Not all are for Biden. So he’d be costing himself votes too, which is counterintuitive.

Now, Trump has changed his narrative to ‘we want all legal ballots to be counted’. So I guess that means he’s cool now with the ballots being counted in AZ days after the election, just as long as they give him a change to win back the state.

Why are Trump’s accusations “dangerous,” hypocritical, and insulting?

Trump can turn a blind eye to his Hail Mary pass in Arizona and possibly Nevada this year (which he lost in 2016), and he can embrace the fact that he swept the election in 2016, won most of the swing states, many of which were expected to vote Democrat, and he can gloss over his paper-thin margins in 2016, which are eerily similar to this margins that Biden is now securing.

He can do all this because he won in 2016, and because he could win AZ and NV. But, he doesn’t like that he’s losing his lead in PA, and that he lost MI, WI, and currently the lead in GA. And of course it has to mean there was fraud and corruption if he’s losing right, because there’s no way he could lose in a fair election right? Because he’s so well-liked, right?

And I’m sure someone will point out that Democrats complained that the 2016 election wasn’t fair and that the result was influenced by the Russians and etc. etc. So Democrats are now hypocrites for calling Trump out on his bullshit statements with no evidence.

I agree that the “Trump didn’t win a fair race” argument is stupid, and that has been no more evident than it is right now obviously seeing that his popularity was no fluke. Biden is close to winning the race, but by a small margin. The country is extremely divided, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.

However, Trump is not really levying any specific accusations against Biden that I can see. What I’m hearing is Trump making vague accusations against the states, the election commissions, the polling offices, the people counting, and everyone that is specifically responsible for handling and counting the votes.

What is something that no one talking about, something that is incredibly hypocritical of Trump and Republicans to not point out in light of their accusations?

Alaska and North Carolina.

Why is neither Trump nor any conservative not pointing out how Alaska and North Carolina haven’t finished counting, or how NC has stopped counting and updating their votes for a whole day now? Why is no one saying anything about Alaska only having 50% of their votes reported 3 days after the polls opened? Where is the rage and conspiracy theories about those states and their stalled counting? Why aren’t they complaining about possible voter fraud in those states and worried something fishy is going on? Where are the lawsuits in Anchorage and Raleigh?

Oh, is it because everyone (including Democrats) knows Trump is going to win those states? Do we need an #allstatesmatter movement or something to get them to notice that we still don’t have any updates from them? (No offense to BLM, full stop.)

They don’t care about the issues in NC and AL. They only care about slow counting and fraud accusations in the states where their standing is subject to change. Meaning AKA, if the vote ends in their favor by a narrow margin of let’s say 1,000 votes then they’ll praise it as a win but if they lose the state by 20,000 votes like they did in.. oh, say Wisconsin this year, then they’ll claim voter fraud and demand a recount. Also like they have done in, you guessed it, Wisconsin. So, it’s OK if they eek out a win of 20k in Wisconsin back in 2016, and it’s OK if they eek out wins in Arizona and Nevada after Biden’s current lead, that’s not evidence of potential voter fraud, but if Biden gets a 20k win in Wisconsin this year that’s suspicious.

So Trump is fine with overtaking Biden with Hail Mary passes and narrow margins. He’s fine with all the mysterious votes for him that people are “finding everywhere” in AZ now (using his words he used to describe Biden’s gains). There’s no voter fraud going on in AZ where the mail-ins and absentees are still being counted like everywhere else, despite Trump and other Republicans complaining about the fact that votes are still being counted days after the election and that these ballots are bad in general. There’s no fraud in states where Biden initially had the lead after mail-ins were counted but is now seeing saw his lead shrink as in TX and FL, or in AZ where Biden (like Trump now in PA and GA) is seeing his early lead shrink now that mail-ins and absentees are being counted. There’s no fraud in AZ because Trump is the one gaining the advantage. And there’s also no fraud going on in Alaska where there is still only 50% votes reported or in North Carolina where 94% votes were reported before being delayed now a full day.

Quick question: do you see any Democrats or Liberals claiming Trump’s camp or the AZ counties themselves are purposefully locking that state up in his favor with mail-ins and absentees after seeing how many votes were needed for Trump to win it once the in-person ballots were tallied—as Trump so eloquently accused the Democrats and polls in PA, GA, MI, and WI of doing in his press conference yesterday afternoon? Because that’s basically what he said in his press conference. He made the accusation that they looked at the tally after in-person votes were counted, saw what votes were needed for Biden to win the state, and then suddenly they just started finding votes everywhere. Again, where are the watchdogs barking about people in Arizona and Nevada suddenly finding Trump votes everywhere? Suddenly, absentee and mail-in ballots are…good.

A summary of the hypocrisy and bullshit.

Trump wanted people to vote in person.

Trump said there was no way he could lose the election fairly. (Arrogance and also setting the stage for his legal arguments.)

Trump said that mail-ins and absentees were not trustworthy and basically they could be used to rig the election. (Also setting the stage for legal arguments. Again, we have always used these types of ballots in elections and everyone knows they skew heavily Democratic so if Trump says they’re not trustworthy all of a sudden and millions of people vote this way due to COVID, then we got ourselves a huge case of fraud.)

Trump fails to mention that a fraction of the mail-ins and absentees in every state are still for him or Independent candidates and that with each update his vote count also rises along with Biden’s.

He fails to acknowledge that in AZ the mail-ins and absentees are favoring him more than Biden and that they are the reason he’s gaining in AZ now, and he’s more than willing to say that counting should continue there and to take his gains as a sign he’ll win the state. And it totally doesn’t matter that this is a direct contradiction of his statement that mail-ins and absentees are tools for Dems to ‘steal’ elections.

The early Blue Mirage in states like TX and FL, where the mail-ins and absentees were counted early and the first votes leaned Biden, were followed by in-person ballots and leaned overwhelmingly Trump.

The Blue Mirage of Arizona is seeing mail-ins and absentees turn out to be not in Biden’s favor but rather in Trump’s favor, the opposite of what happened in TX/FL (and what’s happening in GA and PA).

All these shifts in Trump’s favor in states where mail-ins and absentees have either been giving the wrong overall impression initially because they were counted first (FL/TX) before shifting drastically for Trump once in-person ballots were considered. Because those states were allowed to count these ballots early and were not made to wait until election day to start counting.

The results of mail-ins and absentees in AZ are not what people expected and have ended up shifting now at the last minute for Trump after in-persons have been counted. No one is claiming that this last minute shift is suspicious.

Democrats will still most likely lose the Senate, where they only gained 1 seat, and their only hope of possibly winning the Senate is if they A. pick up more seats organically and B. if Biden wins then Vice President-elect Harris could cast a vote for the Democrats.

Democrats have not quite swept the House either. They will probably hold onto the House but they have lost 5 (count it FIVE) seats to Republicans and the one lone Independent seat was also lost to the Republicans so at this point the conservatives have gained a total of 6 (SIX) seats. Their representatives are also leading in a lot of places so they will gain bare minimum probably 10 more seats and there are only 34 left (according to AP as of this moment).

All of the Republican Congressional candidates are performing well, whereas Trump (the incumbent Republican President) is losing, and at the very best still performing poorly. Including losing the popular vote by 4 million votes. This is stunning because normally in this situation the congressional candidates would not necessarily outperform the incumbent president of their party.

Basically, if the Democrats really wanted to rig this whole election then they have done a very shit job of it. I would like to speak to a manager.

That’s it. I’m done. If you read all of this, you’re the OG. I hope some of what I said resonates.

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cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

Text

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER TWO: FOR THE FIRST TIME

SUMMARY: Lynn meets the attractive English teacher, Mr. Tom Hiddleston. WORD COUNT: 3.1k NOTE: it’s 3:00 am but I don’t have a sleep schedule. Enjoy! WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

INSIDE IS HAVOC.

For some idiotic reason, most students somehow forget what classes they signed up for three months ago or lost their schedules (I still wonder how that happens) and thus, the front office is a mess of students asking for theirs, the lines bleeding out into the hall. Given this, getting around to head to the commons will be a mission in and of itself. I'm not hating on all of them. As a freshman I was in the same place, my shaky hands and nervously stuttering voice mirroring the kids that smell brand new. Hopefully, to avoid this debacle again, they'll write the classes down. I guarantee the already exhausted looking receptionists would agree.

I almost want to tell the small, thin girl who wrings her hands 'good luck' but I guarantee she'd faint by the time I open my mouth. Instead, Ellie and I keep walking past the crowd. Poor souls.

It takes a minute or so to reach the commons, the booming echoes of chatting teenagers on their first day back is a sound like no other. The voices create a paved path any newcomer could easily follow. It dawns on me now that this will be the last time I'll hear this sound. I solemnly smile.

"I'm telling you, Dunmer is the better race."

"Only an idiot would spew such ignorant bullshit! Everyone knows Khajiit are the superior race!"

"Says the guy who could pass as a furry."

My eyebrows raise once the familiar voices are heard. Of course, they sit alone and look as normal as ever. My heart dips into my stomach when one of the two glances up and bashfully raises a hand to wave. In his awkward state, his hand barely moves.

Ellie is the first to speak. "What are you guys fighting about now?"

The boy with the long black hair speaks first. "Dumbass over here thinks Dark Elves are the best characters in Skyrim." Gabriel Ahoka is one of the oldest friends I have and if there's anything I've learned from him, it's that he's right the majority of the time. Oh, and he has beautiful hair.

"Because I'm right!" I take a seat next to the self-proclaimed judge. His name is River Adams, and I think I've been in love with him since he told me I reminded him of Hermione Granger back in the fourth grade. I smile in his direction then tuck some hair behind my ear. A nervous twitch that doesn't get past Ellie's ever watchful eyes. I refuse to acknowledge her small smirk. Instead, we both join in on the two dorks' conversation.

Ellie rolls her big brown eyes at them. "I don't see what the fuss is about. You guys take your games too seriously."

Both River and Gabriel audibly gasp at her comment.

"Fine," Gabriel huffs looking in my direction. "What about you, Lynn-ykinz?"

I don't visibly react to his nickname. It's something I've been called for years now. Though I'd like to agree with River, it's something I can't do. "Dunmers—"

"Ha!"

"— are for pussies."

"Ha!" This laugh comes from the boy sitting across from me. Beside me, River makes a small "oh" and lowers his raised fists, his hooray coming to a short and final end. I chuckle at his reaction as I pass Gabriel a solid high five.

"What are your guys' schedules?" River asks a tiny bit of gloom and annoyance coating his words.

Fortunately, most of us are in similar classes and only have to be here for a little over half the day. Due to all of us sticking to the scheduling plan, we all were able to get almost all our required course and electives done. Instead of having seven classes in one day, we all have five. By the time lunch rolls around, we're free the rest of the afternoon, meaning much longer DND matches with the nerds and more gossip and jam times with the only other female in our group.

"So meet up at the library for lunch?" I confirm once more as the morning bell rings, signally to all the student and staff that the first day is about to begin. The three people around me reply in agreement, and we head out. For the first hour of the day as well as the last, we're in different places. I'm not sure where the others are going, but I begin my journey to the library, one of my all-time favorite places.

I walk through the doors and slide over the counter, careful not to be seen but not careful enough. I plop in my seat at the front desk as someone walks up behind me.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you to go through the gate. It's literally five feet away, Lynn!" I send a humored smile to the woman walking behind me, a rather large stack of books in her arms.

I stand up and begin taking ones off the top. "Five feet of unnecessary effort, in my opinion."

"And playing parkour in the library is?" Mrs. Gibbons says, deadpanning.

"To each their own."

She sighs but then laughs. "How was your summer, kid?"

"Pretty decent." I now have half the stack in my arms, and I follow behind her. "My mom and I went to Arizona for a few days and then Seattle for a week. We didn't have much time, but we drove through somewhere in Canada on the way back just because."

Mrs. Gibbons sets the books down on a cart where there are a couple of rows on the bottom already filled. Taking her lead, I lower my stack to the opposite side and begin placing them side by side. I presume these are outdated and to be sold or given away. "What's in Arizona and Seattle?"

A smile hits my face immediately. "There's a college in Flagstaff with a great writing program. I went on a day trip around the campus. And Seattle is just someplace we wanted to visit."

"That's so good to hear, hon! Are you considering?"

I lean back against the counter right behind me as my mentor continues to shelve books. "It's a little far."

Turning to face me, Mrs. Gibbons send me a confused stare. "I thought you wanted to get away from this god-forsaken state?"

She's right. All I've wanted since my father left was to get out of Missouri (or Misery, if anyone's asking). My mom and I left Maine a long time ago go escape unimaginable horrors, but I wasn't expecting those nightmares to follow me here. The move was negligent in getting us away from memories a selfish prick poisoned and to start new somewhere far away, where no one knows me as the girl with a deadbeat dad. In this small town, everyone knows everything. I'd like to escape, to be a complete stranger to everyone.

But Arizona is a couple of thousand miles away from the place I grew up in, my home. I feel incredibly guilty about considering a college so far away from the woman who has taken care of me on her own since I entered elementary school, who has taught me that voicing my opinion and being honest is valued more than timidity and who told me that no man should ever keep a thumb on me. The other influencers in my life are also staying around here. Ellie has been accepted in a very pretentious private school for the Fine Arts a couple of cities over while River and Gabe are thinking about community college before making the jump into university. While solitude and adventures are what I crave, everyone who keeps my sanity in control is here.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "I do, but... I'm just not sure what I really want. Like, I would kill to get out of here, but what if everywhere is worse?"

"Trust me; there's nowhere worse than southwest Missouri, hon."

Again, she has a point.

I hum in response. There a brief moment of silence as we shelve old, dusty books. "So how was your summer?"

Mrs. Gibbons smile kindly, fawning over memories I doubt. "Richie took two weeks off, and we went Fiji. It was so beautiful. The water is clear, the people are wonderful, and the food– oh my God, the food." I secretly have a small thing for Richard Gibbons, or, as his wife calls him, Richie. This "thing" isn't a crush or infatuation by any means, but when he walks into the library on random occasions, he has a natural gift to swoon anyone he encounters. I've unfortunately fallen victim to his charisma a few times. He's an image of the wealthy 1930's businessman with modern values and beliefs weaved in his fine suits. Mr. Gibbons might be my mother's age, or possibly older, but I have to say, Mrs. Gibbons is quite the lucky woman.

I chuckle at her. "I'm sometimes surprised you haven't filed for early retirement."

"Richie makes quite the cash, but how and I supposed to entertain myself when he's gone ten hours a day and then for weeks on end?" Mrs. Gibbons pauses and looks around her library, then back to me. The growing crows feet wrinkle into a smile. "And besides, I can't leave my favorite kids behind, now can I?"

"I guess you can't," I reply.

Ten minutes later, I'm back at my desk. Well, technically mine, Mrs. Gibbons, and the other kid who helps out during school hours. I've never met them, so I'm not sure who exactly they are. Anyway, the "desk" is a long bar that has a foot-high wall that stretches all the way down to the ends, creating a divider between my computer and a student or faculty member. The top of this divider is flat, forming a plane in which books or arms can be set on. Most of the time, books scatter the top, but since it's the first day, the library is not only spotlessly clean but deadly empty.

That is until someone catches my attention. Sitting at the far side of the desk, I'm able to see who is coming a mile before he steps through the open library doors. This time was no different.

With long, lean legs and a towering height walks in none other than Mr. Tom Hiddleston.

Easily being the hottest teacher of all time, I feel a blush beginning to creep up my cheeks just at the mere sight of him. Apart from his 6'2 figure, he sports tame yet still curly reddish-brown hair, divine enough for the gods, if he isn't one already. Mr. Hiddleston's cheekbones and jawline remind me of razors, which I would feel honored to be cut by. However, his eyes are a color I can't pick out. Because I've never been in close proximity, my guess, from my distance, is green, or maybe blue. The ambiguity makes him all the more interesting. I wonder if he has some long-distance vibe because as soon as I look up to see him, Mrs. Gibbons is right out front— and missing her cardigan. I raise my brows at her from the swivel chair, but her eyes are focused down and away from me. Elbowing her slightly, I nod once, doing a run over of her exposed arms and a little cleavage. Jokingly, she swats my arms and blushes scarlet. I begin to laugh, somehow holding most in when Mr. Hiddleston walks in.

"Hello, Ruby," he smiles softly. As if he wasn't attractive enough, the man has a damn British accent. It's almost as if he's trying to stick out among the hicks. "It's good to see you. How was your summer, darling?"

If her fingers weren't wrapped around the edge of the desk, I guarantee she would have fallen over. Honestly, I would have done the same. "Absolutely marvelous! Fiji is a beautiful place. I imagine you would like it there."

I make the snarky note that she left her husband out of the conversation. Thinking about it, I try to glance over at her left hand to check if anything is missing.

Zoning out the best I could, I file through the library's emails and begin writing down books teachers are requesting. Like usual, the freshmen English teachers ask for The Great Gatsby, and the sophomore teachers need 1984. Due to being taught-in-class books, I scoot back in my chair to make a beeline to the back room and take the note with me, the sticky top staying attached to my fingertips.

"Oh, Lynn?" I hear Mrs. Gibbons call out.

I just entered the back room, so I comically poked my head out. "You called?"

I seem to humor both parties, a smile etched on their face. "Could you get the copies of Of Mice and Men?" My vision glances over to the teacher behind the desk for a short moment. His tall frame leans on the counter, arms crossed on the platform, apparently indicating familiarity and comfort in the room. I catch his stare. I realize now his eyes are in fact blue.

Nodding, I duck back into the room, setting my sticky note to the side. During the time I have to gather the fifteen or so books, I allow my reddening cheeks to cool off by taking long breaths. "Don't be weird, Lynn," I whisper to myself, extending my arms out towards the collection of novels. "He's just a hot teacher. Calm yourself."

Finishing the stack, I wrap my arms around the tower, huffing as I do. I carefully whisk myself towards the open door, making a mental note to go back to my list.

Mrs. Gibbons and Mr. Hiddleston chat among themselves not too far from where I left. Now sitting in her swivel chair, typing away feverishly on her computer, and keeping a conversation going, the librarian doesn't notice my return, though the man across does. He nods in my direction. The simplest gesture is somehow insanely attractive. Mrs. Gibbons looks over her shoulder, sending me a smirk. "Oh, there you are! Thought I lost you."

I fake a small laugh. "I'm surprised I didn't; it's quite the mess back there," I tease, waddling over to the counter. "Where would you like 'em, boss?" I'm not sure who I would refer to, glancing once at Mr. Hiddleston, to Mrs. Gibbons, then back to the stack in my arms.

"Would you mind escorting me to my classroom? I tend to be clumsy at times." With a warm smile, Mr. Hiddleston glances down to Mrs. Gibbons, awaiting her approval.

At that moment, I'm not sure if I would love or hate to go. On the one hand, I get to spend time with Mr. Hiddleston, every horny teenager's dream. On the other, I'm alone with Mr. Hiddleston, someone I've never had a conversation with let alone a 'hello' until minutes ago. Knowing my luck, I will somehow embarrass myself in front of him. It wouldn't be the end of the world since I don't have any of his classes nor do I have classes near his, but God I would feel like a fool for the rest of my life.

But, hey, he's something pretty to look at.

"Yeah, I don't mind. Is that okay, Mrs. Gibbons? I promise I won't bail on you," I say.

The librarian nods her head, fixing her glasses. "Of course, go right ahead! There isn't much to do now anyway. Just make sure you're back before the bell rings."

"Don't worry, Ruby. I won't keep her long," Mr. Hiddleston reassures.

I wouldn't be opposed if you did, I think to myself. The comment makes me blush, even going to my ears. Some reasons how I could be kept late quickly flash by and I find myself wishing I had not taken Mr. Hiddleston's offer. With my skin still burning, I make my way around the front desk as he follows me on the other side. The gate is shut, and due to my arms being preoccupied, I realized I might have to swing it using my hip, nothing too abnormal. I helped out Mrs. Gibbons last year and would do the same thing when my arms were full. However, Mr. Hiddleston was not accustomed to my way of opening the gate. Just as I go to butt it, Mr. Hiddleston reaches out. In an awkward exchange, Mr. Hiddleston's hand, which was aiming to wrap around the gate, collides on my hip instead.

It's nothing terribly exciting but enough to get a gasp and a jealous exchange from Ellie, and damn right I'll take that.

He pauses barely a second before quickly retracting his arm to his side. A blush of the same shade of scarlet cover our cheeks, an awkward laugh bubbling out.

"I'm sorry," I shyly push out.

Shaking his head, now making sure his hand is on the gate, Mr. Hiddleston bashfully looks down and opens up the exit for me. "Don't be, love. It was my fault."

"If you want to be the culprit, be my guest," I reply sassily. I don't want to see if my comment amused him or caused a cringe, so I don't look up. Instead, I look around for something to make our trip easier. "Did you want me to get a cart instead of carrying them up? It's up to you."

Shrugging, Mr. Hiddleston begins taking books from the stack, leaving me with less than half. "I don't mind walking if you don't mind. I missed my morning jog, so I'm trying to compromise the best I can."

I nod and kindly smile, even though my insides and my weak muscles are upset I took on the mission. "Walking it is then. Lead the way!"

Mr. Hiddleston turns on his heel, passing a smile to Mrs. Gibbons. "Thank you for letting me steal your little helper."

"Just return her the way she's leaving," Mrs. Gibbons retorts.

"We'll see," he replies, sending me a smirk and a wink. If the man wanted to turn my knees into jelly, he already succeeded from the first introduction. Now he's just teasing my flustered heart. "Just this way, love," Mr. Hiddleston tells me. I'm too afraid to speak, so I nod, smile, and follow beside him up the staircase.

#obsessive teachings #dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years ago

Note

Spiderverse Gwen x Reader where The reader is out as les/bi/pan whatever and Gwen is scared to tell her she likes her?

AND➝ Gwen is ready to start letting people back into her life after the events of Spiderverse. MJ, aware of Gwen trying to open her social circle, tells her about a nice girl from her apartment building and brings the reader along at their next band practice to introduce her. Gwen sets eyes on her and is VEEEERY attracted to this VEEEERY pretty girl. In Gwen’s bisexual distress, she starts rambling nervously, and probably says something embarrassing about herself. MJ saves them from an awkward situation and starts band practice, Gwen doesn’t see reader outside of school again after that, but Gwen shamelessly stares at her during class. Gwen starts to overthink the situation and gets worried she blew her chance. Later, there’s a situation that she as Spider-Gwen saves reader from. Reader is minorly hurt but SG has to go before she can help reader as authorities arrive. Feeling guilty, her spider sense leads SG to the reader’s apartment, she goes to check on her that night. Confident with her mask on, she strikes up a conversation, compliments her and even drops a bit of a flirty remark about reader before taking her leave. I didnt know where to go from there I’m new to requesting so I hope this isn’t too long but I hope that’ll be enough to get the ball rolling? -🍀

deeply sorry it took me so long to get to these again! i changed a few things, but it’s pretty much still the same idea. i hope the nonnie who requested this finds it and doesn’t think i ignored them :( ily, y’all deserve better.

——-

➹she plays bass➹(spider-gwen x fem!reader)

That feeling when there’s a cute girl who plays bass in your band and you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

Gwen needs help figuring out her feelings. Like, immediately.

word count: 11.6k (oops i did it again)

a/n: i’m sorry this new fic is the size of the bible like the last one, i’ll try to make the next one shorter lmaooo. but it’s what my fave girl deserves due to the unacceptable lack of stories about her on this site. plus, i swear that once you read it it’s so much shorter than it seems. i’m hoping i can post at least one more story before the end of the year, but if i don’t, happy holidays and new year ! y’all were the best part about my 2019 :) hope whoever is reading this has a lovely week. mwah.

warnings: violence, guns, swearing.

——-

She played bass.

You played bass, to be more specific. And Mary Jane Watson took satisfaction in believing that she was nice. More than simply ‘just nice’ on good days, even. Being the most courteous person was a duty she considered to be hers ever since she was six-years-old and accompanied that girl who always seemed to be left behind in the playground, and years later, in high school when she punched a creep hassling one of her bandmates. Last but most certainly not least, Betty Brant, bass guitar player of the Mary Janes, slipped and fell backwards one unfortunate evening, and she shot out her left arm behind her to break the fall and save her ice cream from hitting the ground. Good news: her ice cream did not hit the ground. Bad news, however, her left hand did— in an odd, twisted position. Needless to say, Betty Brant now had a broken wrist.

At first glance, they’re all unrelated events, stars belonging to separate constellations, and they would have remained so— undisturbed, simply coexisting in the same sky. That was, until Gwen came into the picture and drew a line connecting the bright flecks when she opened her mouth.

In the moment that she admitted to MJ that the idea of meeting new people sounded more appealing each day, she scribbled down the equation in her bandmate’s brain and hit ‘solve’. The redhead’s face lit up, putting to shame a Christmas tree as that sense of responsibility called for her attention. Immediately, she felt obligated to make the Nobel Peace prize-worthy move of texting her neighbor she just met, who also played the bass, to join them on the coming Saturday for band practice. That night, as she prepared to go to sleep, Em Jay cracked an accomplished smile at the reflection in her mirror.

However, two weeks had passed since your first practice with the Mary Janes, and MJ’s pride dove off from where it sat on her shoulder as she observed from afar with furrowed brows how Gwen so fucking blatantly ignored you after you tried to give her a high five.

“What the hell was that?!” She hissed at Glory who stood beside her, cringing as you awkwardly dropped your hand and turned away from Gwen. Sighing, MJ rubbed her face with sheer desperation— a rather drastically different action from her naïve smile many nights ago. “I put an opportunity right on her fucking lap to make a friend, and she can’t act like a nice normal human being!”

Glory bit the inside of her cheek, sporting her own grimace. “I dunno, maybe they’ll click soon—”

“It’s been two weeks, Glory!” MJ whined. She crossed her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing into concentrated slits, and her gaze returned to an oblivious Gwen who shot at your back what she thought in her mind was a discreet glance. “I can’t let this fail. I gotta step in.” Glory raised a brow.

“Or you could just, you know, let them get to know each other at their own pace?“

“That’s dumb.”

Glory opened her mouth but gave up immediately, seeing MJ’s persistence as a lost cause she, in all honesty, did not want to waste any energy battling against that day. “Follow my lead,” MJ elbowed her, winking before she caught Gwen’s and your attention. “Who wants pizza? I do, and so does Glory. You guys want to go out and eat?“

“I don’t really feel like going out.”

“Glory, what the fuck?” MJ said under her breath, but later shook her head, a smile stretching across her face. “It’s fine! We’ll just go get it and we can eat here."

Glory frowned. "But—”

“I mean, sure. I’m definitely in the mood for pizza.” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting upwards. Gwen, however, eyed Glory with suspicion, who in return flashed her an apologetic smile. MJ clapped her hands together, cheering.

“Great!” She grabbed Glory’s hand and dragged her out of the room, glancing back at the two other girls. “We’ll be back in fifteen!”

Not even five seconds passed after they closed the door before you jumped off the couch and muttered to Gwen that you were going to the bathroom, an action that Gwen chose not to spend any time analyzing for her own sanity; but even if she had decided to, the ringing of her phone would’ve interrupted her nonetheless. After she took out her phone and saw MJ’s contact name, she let out the longest sigh in her entire seventeen years of living.

“Couldn’t you have just called for the pizza?” She went straight to the point— no greeting or anything, which left MJ stumped for three seconds, and surprised she had caught onto what was going on in record time.

“No, otherwise my plan wouldn’t have worked. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What plan and why am I welcome?”

MJ scoffed. “I’m giving you another chance to talk to Y/N, seeing as you completely blew every other one you had.” Gwen perked one eyebrow, confused.

“How come?”

“She tried to give you a high-five and you left her hanging, Gwendolyn.” She said with an obvious tone. “And that’s just one example of many.”

Gwen sat straight, her eyes growing wide. “Wait, I did?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot!” Gwen shut her eyes closed, covering her face with her hand. “How did you not notice, it’s so painfully obvious she’s trying to be your friend but you’ve gained the award of dickhead of the day.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, although let out an amused huff of air through her nose. “Did Glory agree to this little plan of yours?”

MJ took a moment of silence. “No, but her opinion doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Yeah, I bet she didn’t, because it’s fucking stupid, Mary Jane.”

“Em Jay.”

“You called me Gwendolyn.”

“Whatever,” MJ grumbled, “you asked for this, Gwen. Be thankful, ‘cause I’m really tryin’ here.”

Gwen heard you flush the toilet, and not too long after, the sound of the faucet running. “Hell, okay, fine.” She whispered into the phone. “She’s coming, I have to go.” Before MJ could utter a word, she ended the call right as you walked out of the bathroom and flashed her a tight-lipped smile. You sat back down on the couch, an obvious distance between you two. More time passed while you hunched over your cellphone and Gwen eyed you sideways, gripping her hands together in between her knees, her heart speeding up each time she dared to speak up, and her face heating up albeit she hadn’t directed a word at you yet.

She cleared her throat. “So!”

You made eye contact with her and she felt obligated to flash you a nervous smile after the silence continued. Eventually, the corner of your mouth lifted upwards. “So what?” You questioned, curious. Gwen’s smile gradually fell. She should’ve contemplated what she was going to say first before she spoke.

“…What’s your favorite pizza topping?” Gwen hit herself mentally. There literally was no excuse for why she was acting like this— hell, she herself couldn’t even find one. But, on the bright side (however, perhaps not so much for Gwen), whilst the girl was sure this was an agonizing and slow death from embarrassment, your amused grin widened with her visible anxiety.

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of options.” You shrugged, your attention moving back to your device. Gwen considered leaving you alone, seeing as this conversation very obviously wasn’t going anywhere, but that option disintegrated as soon as she imagined Em Jay intentionally delaying her arrival with Glory and the pizza so she could take full advantage of her ‘chance’, which she was ninety-nine percent sure was the case.

“I really like pepperoni.” She blurted out. Your eyes momentarily traveled up to Gwen and you pursed your lips, nodding slowly.

“Cool.”

My God, you really were not collaborating even an ounce— it was a reach, but it was as if you were voluntarily trying to make this as difficult and socially traumatizing for Gwen as possible. Gwen scratched her head, searching for more conversation ideas, but her brain remained as empty as a desert in the middle of nowhere, except for the one tumbleweed happily rolling along its way which was her last idea, and the main purpose of this sad conversation.

“I’m really sorry for that high-five you tried to give me earlier,” Gwen muttered, incapable of looking at you straight in the eye for long. “Em Jay just told me about it.”

Finally, you tore your concentration away from your phone and focused on Gwen. You didn’t know whether it was the seriousness of her voice combined with the absurdity of the sentence, but you found yourself struggling to hold back your giggles. Gwen’s eyebrows twisted with puzzlement as she saw your blushing cheeks and you biting your lip hard, your shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“That’s… adorable. It’s alright. It happens to all of us, I guess.” You laughed out. In Gwen’s never-ending humiliation, she couldn’t discern your expression from simple amusement or judgment.

Gwen stuttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Okay, cool. I-I just didn’t want you to think that I hated you or something like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I did not.”

“Good. Because I don’t. Obviously.” She continued, forcing out a chuckle. “I really don’t.”

You smiled hesitantly. “Again… don’t worry, I get it—”

“I just, I wasn’t paying attention to you.” Gwen clarified but closed her mouth immediately, regret drying her throat. You pressed your lips into a straight line. “But I don’t mean that in a rude way, hah. I’m always looking at you.” She dug herself deeper and her eyes grew wide, a tense cough fleeing past her lips after you raised your brows.

“I mean, no, I’m not always looking at you, like, staring, but like, looking forward to whatever you have to say…?” She talked slowly, questioning her own words. “Why would I look at you, anyway?” Ah, fuck, that’s not what she meant.

Your expression transformed into an offended look and she rushed to correct herself. “No! I mean— you’re, like, very, very pretty, don’t get me wrong.” She let out a frustrated sigh, “Again, I don’t mean that in a weird way, I just—”

“Okay! I get it.” You stopped her and stood up, pointing at your phone. “I have to go, it’s pretty late, so I won’t be able to eat with you guys, but, uh… thanks anyway. Maybe next time.” You explained, uncomfortable. You both dubiously gestured goodbye to each other before you nearly ran out of the door.

From then on, Gwen kind of wanted to hide in her room for the rest of her life, or at least from you; but sadly, she couldn’t do either. She could’ve moved on and just let it be a memory she could laugh about in the future, but she couldn’t hide what had happened to MJ— she retold her and Glory the encounter, and the trauma returned as Glory burst out laughing right in her face and Em Jay simply stared at her like a disappointed mother. Again, she really was determined to forget the whole ordeal, but later in the evening, when all she wanted to do was plop down on her bed and call it a night after another day of patrol, she answered her landline only for her ears to be attacked with MJ’s pleas for her to go fix things since ‘she was so embarrassed for her she literally couldn’t go to sleep’. Gwen hung up on her.

As she originally had intended before MJ disrupted her night, Gwen jumped onto her bed and rolled onto her back, promising in her head that she’d take off her suit in a minute. She stared up at the ceiling for longer than a minute, thinking about MJ’s words. What was the point in going to apologize to you again, anyway? Gwen wasn’t going to do it simply to please her. MJ could gladly go and shove her microphone up her—

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Gwen said to herself as she stood outside your school building. She looked down at her watch. She could’ve been doing so much right then. Someone was probably getting murdered, or a robbery was going on, and she had homework to finish, but she was wasting her time waiting in front of a school like the creep of the block. However, she thought she might as well stick to it in the instant that students began to swarm out of the entrance doors.

She considered leaving. It was her first thought when she ultimately saw you walking amongst the crowd, talking to your friends. You hadn’t noticed her. It wouldn’t make a difference if she spun and ran out of there, like a scared child fleeing from the monster living in her closet. You turned your gaze away from your friend whilst laughing, and similar to the demon (no offense) peeking through the slit in between the closet doors, you found yourself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

There was no going back.

Gwen breathed in profoundly and flashed you a sheepish smile, waving weakly with her shoulders raised. She watched you say goodbye to your friends before you hesitantly approached her, your eyebrow lifted in a questioning manner. “Gwen?”

“Yup. That’s me, hah…” She moved her hair away from her face after the wind disheveled it, brushing it behind her ear as she avoided your eyes. “I know you’re wondering—”

“What you’re doing here? Yes, yes I am.” You said, the humor distinctive in your voice, but Gwen scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, I’m not… stalking you,” She laughed nervously and stopped herself before history repeated itself. “I would’ve texted you, but my phone…” Now has a bullet hole. “Broke. Em Jay told me I could meet you here.”

You folded your arms across your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. “Well, I’m here, you’re here, so what’s up? Did you want to continue talking about how you don’t pay attention to me?” You joked, tilting your head.

Gwen winced slightly, cringing. “Actually, no.”

“Okay, good.”

“I came here to apologize. A real apology this time.”

You let your arms drop by your sides, interested and waiting for what she had to say. “I was really awkward. Painfully awkward, and I made you uncomfortable. So, I was hoping that we could maybe… start over again?” She held out her hand.

You briefly glanced down at it before glancing back up at her biting her lip anxiously. You giggled, nodding. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

You shook her hand.

“So… we’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good.” Gwen grinned back, her tooth gap having a peculiar effect in your stomach. She peeked at her watch a second time with the intent of leaving; but before she could say goodbye, you adjusted your backpack straps and spoke up. “Actually… now that you’re here, how about we go get something to eat?”

Gwen blinked, her finger coming up to point at her chest. “M-me? And you?” You agreed with your head, laughing.

“Obviously, you dummy. I don’t see anyone else here.” You playfully punched her arm and she looked down at the spot, her eyes narrowed.

Ah, well. There was no going back.

If there was one thing, one enemy that constantly played with Gwen’s sanity, time was a top-three candidate which popped into her head immediately. Popped wasn’t perhaps even the correct word, for it remained there everlastingly as a nagging fear— a deafening, continuous tick-tock reminding her of how little, or what a painstaking amount of time she had in her hands, and all the things she could or could not do during it. Being Spider-Woman, pages and pages of school work, the Mary Janes, Mary Jane and Gwen’s duty to answer her messages the moment she received them, her aspirations, her dad— it messed with her brain, tangled all the connections into an indestructible knot she could purely helplessly stare at. But when she read the time and realized how late it had become, the panic merely bubbled and spread in her chest. Rather you laughed and she felt the necessity to look away from the numbers to focus on you, despite the tick-tock still present and blaring like a tsunami alert in her ears.

You sat facing her in the restaurant booth, smirking as you bit into a french fry. “You know, I gotta say, you impressed me quite a lot with your drumming.” Gwen bashfully moved a piece of lettuce around her plate, propping her chin upon the palm of her hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She shrugged, smiling at you. You maintained your gaze on her for a moment until you shook yourself out of your odd trance, lowering your head.

“Thanks for hanging out with me. I was tired of hanging out with myself, you know?”

Gwen furrowed her brows, adamant on fixing her look on the most boring stray lettuce ever. “Why? You’re a fun person.”

“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like that’s what you think about me.” You teased her, masking the undeniable bit of hurt.

Gwen’s finger’s movements came to a halt and she placed her hands on the table, leaning towards you. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Alright, then what do you really think about me?” You put your elbows on the hard surface and mimicked Gwen, a crooked smile adorning your features. Gwen bit her lip in thought, raising one shoulder.

“You’re cool.” She said simply, trying to appear nonchalant. An ‘oof’ slipped past your lips and you clutched onto your chest, dramatizing the insulted expression.

“That’s it? Just cool? I’m a bit hurt.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, laughing. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, last time you said I was— and I quote— ‘very, very pretty’” You recalled, using air quotes. Gwen scratched her eyebrow, left blank on what to reply because— oh, yeah right— she did, in fact, say that.

The smugness lingered on your face as you waited for her to break down and repeat herself, but she composed herself and cleared her throat. “Hey, it’s not fair if you’re the only one asking questions! Being interviewed is hard work, you know.” She raised her hands defensively, her eyebrows lifted. You immediately caught onto what she was doing and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Well, where’s the fun in knowing all the answers to the universe?”

You had to agree. But you leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, accidentally (or was it?) nudging her leg with your foot. “I don’t know. I like honesty.”

Oh dear, Gwen narrowed her eyes, her chest throbbing. “Hey—” The both of you jumped and looked at the source of the greeting— neither of you knew when exactly, but the waiter stood there with a polite smile, holding three menus close to his stomach. “Just letting y’all know that since Valentine’s Day is coming up, the milkshakes are on discount for couples.” Gwen leaned far away from the table, from you, and let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Oh, no, we’re not—”

“Oh, great!” You exclaimed and grabbed Gwen’s hand. “Do you want to share one, babe?”

Gwen froze, her shoulders and the hand you clutched onto tense, prickling at your touch. You looked at her attentively, and your lovey-dovey eyes left her stunned, grabbed onto her voice and trapped it in her throat— intimidated her. She had to give it to you, though, your acting could fool anyone or leave anyone wondering…especially her.

Seeing as the seconds continued to pass and she never replied, you chose to take it as a sign that she was following you and you glanced up at the waiter. “We’d like a vanilla milkshake, please.” You smiled.

Following the waiter’s departure, Gwen looked at you surprised. “I thought you liked honesty?” She laughed in disbelief, pretending to judge you intensely. You innocently picked up another fry, hiding your growing beam.

“Hey, I’m not gonna turn down a discount.”

Gwen giggled, shaking her head. “Fair enough. But you’re crazy.”

“But you still love me, right babe?” You smirked and lifted your connected hands. When Gwen realized she hadn’t let go yet, she first thought about pulling away. But she didn’t. Instead, she timidly squeezed your hand, forcing out a scoff.

“Right. Of course, babe.”

Finally, you unclasped your hands and Gwen’s hand slowly curled into a fist as she considered something. “Hey, where are you headed after this?” She rushed out. You tilted your head.

“Home. Why?”

She swallowed her nerves, thinking about dismissing her own question and shrugging it off. She had to get back home as well, after all.

But she didn’t want to yet.

“Can I walk you back?”

The walk back to your place dragged on for longer than usual, and you both pretended to act shocked, as if it’d been a glitch in the matrix and time ticked away slower than normal; but in the back of your heads, the two of you knew it’d been no accident, that you weren’t too engulfed into your conversation enough that you ended up taking the long way back home without noticing. Perhaps the two of you wandered longer, slowed down your pace much more than necessary— clung onto the moon and kept it in its place in the sky with your excuses so the night would stay, last as much as you wanted it to. Your efforts were partly successful, but of course, it had to come to an end eventually.

Your meetings didn’t, though. No, they were just getting started.

On Valentine’s Day, you might have taken advantage of another discount for couples, but no one really needed to know that. After that day and after Gwen finally got a new phone (it took her a few days to tell her dad, since she knew he wouldn’t be the happiest once he heard how her phone got destroyed in the first place), you sent her a message which she couldn’t deny made her insides feel a type of way: ‘If you ever need a fake date, don’t hesitate in calling me’.

And a winky face. She couldn’t forget the winky face.

But, in all truth, neither of you needed a ‘fake date’ as a reason to see each other. Every once in awhile, Thursday and Saturday after band practice, the two of you would abandon the girls and simply hang out. It didn’t matter where— sometimes you didn’t even have a place in mind, but somehow, gladly for your brain fearing rejection, Gwen would agree nonetheless. She didn’t think much about it until one afternoon, once you were done telling a bad joke that embarrassingly enough made her laugh, she realized she hadn’t checked the time. Not once.

During band practice, MJ and Glory noted that something had changed. Mainly because they soon realized they hadn’t witnessed any new embarrassing events between you two for them to laugh at behind your backs in a while, but your peeks at each other weren’t fearful anymore. They were now… something which they couldn’t place their finger on, but it was different enough for them to share a look and raise their eyebrows. Naturally, it didn’t take long before Em Jay had to jam herself into your affairs and asked you what you thought about Gwen, using as a justification that you had gotten a month and a half to get to know the band.

If Gwen could’ve gotten the opportunity to travel back in time to step in and prevent Em Jay from getting close to you with her blabbering mouth, she would’ve taken it immediately.

“When were you going to tell me you two fucking knew each other?!” MJ’s shriek hurt Gwen’s ears and left her speechless for a few moments after she walked into the room. Then, she succeeded in processing her question through her brain, and her face was now considerably paler than before.

“Hello to you too?”

MJ glared at her and walked away from her. While she moved around the many cables on the floor with her foot, Gwen dropped her backpack near the door, eyeing her. “How do you know?”

“I talked to Y/N.” She simply responded. Gwen huffed, unbelieving, and crossed her arms.

“And why did you talk to her?”

MJ gave her an obvious look. “Because, uh, she’s my bandmate? And my friend?” Gwen rolled her eyes and crouched down to take her drumsticks from her bag; meanwhile, Em Jay wasn’t over the topic yet. “I can’t believe you kept that from me. Unbelievable. I’m the only one who knows about your little spider secret!” She threw her hands in the air, as if her attitude wasn’t already dramatic enough. Gwen looked up at her with squinted eyes.

“Because you found out on accident. Did you also tell her about that?” She scoffed, standing up. Em Jay followed her to the drums, pursing her lips.

“No. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. But in my defense, Glory and Betty never do either, so you’ve literally got nothing to worry about.”

Gwen sat down on the drum stool. “We met last year, but we never became friends, though. We’re just acquaintances, I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Em Jay shrugged, her expression unchanging. “Yeah, I guess. Now I’m embarrassed for you again, though. You have to apologize to her.”

Gwen’s mouth hung slightly open. “I already apologized twice! Why would I do it again?!”

“You acted as if you didn’t know her when you first met! Like, who does that?” However, before Gwen could explain herself, you and Glory walked through the door, carrying your instruments plus a milkshake in your hand.

“Sup.” Glory nodded her head at the two girls. MJ shot finger guns at her and you walked up to Gwen before you stretched out your arm, holding the milkshake up to her face.

Gwen quirked a brow. “What’s this?”

“I got you a milkshake, babe.” You joked, smirking. Gwen’s cheeks and ears reddened and she hesitantly accepted it, her mouth twitching. “Since we haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while.”

MJ and Glory shared another of their looks, the one with which they telepathically communicated with. After you left Gwen, MJ kneeled down beside her, grinning knowingly.

“She told me she thinks you’re great, dude. Do whatever you want with that information.”

Gwen chose not to do anything with it. At least not for now.

Summer break came along to free Gwen from the suffocating hold school had around her neck, and more importantly, to give her time to focus on patrolling, the Mary Janes, and, well, you. Texting you in the morning, texting you at noon, texting you in the afternoon after she managed to stop a robbery at Junction Boulevard, texting you at night; and she couldn’t forget, of course, spending time with you whenever you could. How could she forget? It seemed almost impossible now, for you had implemented yourself into her routine, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint in what moment. She didn’t even come upon the realization until you left the state for a week, and she found herself waiting for your texts.

However, once you returned and the band reunited, Em Jay wasted no time and suggested having a ‘girl’s night’ at her place, claiming it wasn’t because she ‘missed you all, or anything, but for band-bonding’. She sent you and Gwen to the store to buy snacks (and, unsurprisingly for Gwen, winked at Glory as you two walked out of the door), and right now you both stood in front of the freezers, Gwen observing you as you put all your concentration, your tongue poking out of your mouth, on combining two sodas into an empty water bottle. Gwen gagged dramatically, laughter escaping her throat nonetheless. “That’s fucking gross, man.” She grimaced while you giggled maniacally.

The new beverage fizzled and you analyzed it closely, your eyes following the bubbles dancing in the liquid. “I can’t believe they sell bacon and ranch dressing soda here. This place is nuts.”

“And you’re mixing them together.”

“You could say I’m a scientist.”

Gwen scoffed at your statement, a grin lingering on her face. You sniffed the soda, and held it up to her face. “Do you want to try it?”

Gwen pushed the bottle away with her finger, wrinkling her nose. “You could have me at gunpoint and I still wouldn’t try it.”

You pouted, screwing the cap closed. “Okay, your loss, I guess. I’ll have it here just in case you change your mind.” You waved the bottle and placed it on a shelf before you kneeled down to inspect the bags of marshmallows. Gwen shook her head, her smile reaching her eyes.

“Trust me, I won’t.”

You picked up a bag, eyeing her sideways. “You know what?” You stole back her attention and she hummed, tilting her head. “You’re my favorite member in the band.”

Gwen’s face softened, although she wondered if she was crazy, or if her hands were all of a sudden clammy. “Me? Your… your favorite?” She asked, her voice small. You looked down, hoping she couldn’t see your timid expression.

“Yeah. I mean, no offense to Em Jay or Glory— they’re both awesome, but… I really like you, Gwen Stacy.” You shared eye contact, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

Gwen searched for something to distract herself with, and wound up snatching a random bag of gummies and pretending to read the ingredients. “Are you just trying to get me to pay for all of this?” She joked, gesturing to the casket of food. You let out a dramatic sigh, grumpily looking away from her.

“Aw, man, you caught me.” You made a sad face, but it was fleeting. “…But, no. I mean it. For real.”

Gwen bit her lip, her face the shade of the cherry candy in her hands. “Yeah, well… you’re pretty cool as well, Y/N L/N.” She copied you, shrugging. You groaned in annoyance, staring heavenward.

“Don’t give me that ‘you’re cool’ bullshit again.” You warned, mocking her voice and she giggled, placing the candy back in its place.

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Is that really all you think of me?” You feigned disappointment, playing with her.

No. Most definitely not. Gwen had grown to form many opinions about you other than solely ‘just cool’. Her thoughts varied. Sometimes she liked the way you made her laugh so effortlessly. Other times she couldn’t wrap her head around how, with you, the concept of time was both nonexistent and eternal, a concept you took its meaning away from, for it became irrelevant. She loved how you played bass, and how you gave it a voice, personified it into a dancing body that mesmerized her. She liked the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and how you tilted your head sometimes when you were confused like a puppy. She liked your way of talking, your hair, how you dressed, your posture, your face and the flaws in your skin.

Maybe she really liked you. And that scared her.

When she didn’t answer, you gave up and stood up, stretching your legs. “Okay, at least I’m glad you think I’m cool. It’s what I’d expect from my fake girlfriend.” You winked at her playfully, but she wasn’t fully paying attention now. “Okay, last question, though—”

Gwen sighed, her shoulders dropping. “What now?” You moved your arms behind your back, drawing a circle with the tip of your shoe on the floor.

“You never answered if you really think that I’m pretty.”

Gwen almost choked. She thought she had escaped that question months ago. Without thinking, her gaze landed on the soda hybrid sitting on the shelf and she grabbed it. You didn’t know what was happening in front of you until Gwen was sputtering after taking a big gulp of the drink. “What the fuck?! Why did you do that!” You gasped, your eyes wide and the laughter daring to climb up your throat.

Gwen stuck her tongue out and coughed, her face scrunching up with regret. “If I drink the soda then I don’t have to answer the question.” You couldn’t believe she was willing to do anything instead of giving you an answer.

You doubled over, cackling and holding your stomach. “Since when is that a rule?!”

“Since now.”

For the record, Gwen did think you were pretty. Very, very pretty.

As time went by, Gwen couldn’t help but stare during practice. Stare at your fingers, sliding down and up the neck with ease; your head, nodding along to the music, lost in it enough that you didn’t notice the obvious ogling from her part. And your face. She tried focusing on it most of the time, but it resulted a lot more difficult than she originally expected. You either moved it too much whilst you played, or you faced away from her since—well— she did play the drums.

There was also the third reason. The unsettling burn in her chest that sped up her breathing if her mind went too far, which occurred if she thought about you too much. Too deeply. But, God, did she try, and God, did she take advantage of every time you looked back at her, because you inexplicably dissolved that uneasiness in her.

Late at night, with your blankets wrapped around you tightly, you stared at your phone screen, mindlessly scrolling and double-tapping every picture you came upon. Not a minute passed before you opened a conversation, however, perhaps for the fourth time— not that it was anyone’s business, anyway— awaiting for another text. Gwen’s text, to be more specific. You didn’t want to come off as obsessive, but it had been an hour and thirteen minutes yet she hadn’t responded, and you… were missing her? You shook your head. Well. There was a possibility that you were. Maybe, you couldn’t get her off your mind, and maybe, you wished you could simply think about her and she’d integrate right there in your bedroom—

A knock on the window disrupted your train of thought, and as if on cue, a notification rang from your phone. ‘It’s me’, you read. Gwen had sent the message. “What the fuck?” You muttered, confused. Needing to see it for yourself, you jumped out of your bed and ran to your window before you unlatched the window lock and slid it open.

Of course, as the text message said, it was indeed Gwen, in your fire escape, and not a prank she elaborated to scare the life out of you. “Hi.” Was all she said. You tilted your head, your brows knitted together.

“Hi? Is that all you’re going to say?”

She thought for a second. “…How are you?”

“What are you doing in my fire escape?”

“I got locked out of my house.” She shrugged.

You let out a huff of air in disbelief, moving out of the way so she could climb inside. As she threw one leg over the sill, you placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “You get locked out of your house, and the first place that comes to your mind is my place?” You questioned, amused. Yet again, Gwen raised and dropped her shoulders. You went to close the window, but not before glancing out, imagining all the struggle she must’ve gone through to lower the ladder and then climb up five stories. “And how the hell did you even get all the way up here?” You muttered to yourself, but Gwen heard it.

“It’s a fire escape, my dear. They’re there to, you know, get out of the building so you don’t die if there’s a fire?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on your bed. “Okay, just be quiet, ‘cause I don’t think my family would be very happy about having an unexpected visitor this late.” Guilt sculpted Gwen’s countenance.

“I mean… I can leave if you want—”

“No.” You said quickly, too fast for your liking, actually. You cleared your throat and smiled, patting the area beside you. “No, it’s alright. You can stay however long you want. They don’t have to find out.” You waggled your eyebrows jokingly. She was grateful the sole lamp rested on your bedside table, far away from you and its amber touch embracing you alone, for she didn’t need you seeing the blood rapidly rushing to her warm face.

Gwen sat down where you motioned her to, although kept some distance, and squeezed her hands resting on her lap together. “Thanks… it’ll just be a while. My dad had an emergency, and I really don’t know when he’ll be back, so…” She explained and popped her mouth after her sentence died out. You nodded understandingly, shuffling somewhat closer to her.

“I’m glad you came here. I wouldn’t want you staying out there and freezing to death. Plus, I was pretty bored.”

Gwen raised a brow. “Bored? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

You scoffed with a faint smile. “Shut up, hypocrite. You were out so late that you got left out of your house.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what? Selling drugs?”

“Maybe. You’ll never know.”

You began to fan yourself. “Ooh, a drug lord, so hot.”

Gwen scrunched up her nose, giving you a judgemental look. “Is that what turns you on? Drug lords?”

“Nah, that’s not quite it…” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye before your gaze shifted to your lap, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Gwen didn’t know whether she was reaching— but oh. She didn’t know what courage the universe granted her, either, for she then focused on her nails and pretended to be uninterested. “Huh, then what does turn you on?” Your eyebrows almost reached your hairline in surprise, but you quickly composed yourself.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, leaning closer to her. She shrugged one shoulder.

“I mean, you never know. What if a friend of mine wanted to ask you out?”

You bit your lip. “Depends. Is she cute?”

“I never specified their gender. And it’s theoretical.” She cleared up, raising one finger. You laughed, moving even closer to her.

“Well, then, I really like blue eyes.”

“…Really?” Her shy voice made your organs jump, which you didn’t know if it was normal or a serious medical condition you should get checked out. You hummed, holding yourself up with your arms behind you. “They’re cool, I guess.” Again, she tried to sound as if she didn’t care, or as if your comment didn’t make her as happy as it secretly did.

“Short hair is also pretty cute.” You added. “Especially if it’s a cool hairstyle.”

“A cool… a cool hairstyle, huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Gwen now knew how frustrated you felt when she avoided your questions. “What about you?” You looked at her, insecurity threatening to overpower your current confidence.

“Oh. I don’t know. Musicians are hot.” She showed you a crooked smile. You wanted to squeal, embarrassingly enough.

“Do you like bass guitar players?” A bold move, indeed. Gwen faked entering deep into thought.

“…Eh, I think drummers are hotter.”

You shoved her playfully, laughing. “Rude!”

“Hey, you asked what I liked.” You both giggled, struggling to keep your noises down, but eventually, your laughter dissipated and she played with her fingers. “But bass players are pretty cute, too.”

You gulped, Gwen’s shoulder touching yours spiking your nerves. “Yeah, well, I agree that drummers are cute, too.”

You both glanced down at each other’s lips, holding your breaths. However, before you could do anything, Gwen got to her feet. “You should try getting some sleep. I don’t want you being sleep deprived because of me.” She laughed nervously, taking off her sneakers.

Disappointment invaded your brain, but admittedly, your eyes did feel a lot heavier than before. “What are you gonna do?” You questioned, remembering her situation. You definitely were more worried than her, who was unfazed.

“I’ll just wait I guess.”

“You should catch some Z’s as well.”

Gwen didn’t argue. She climbed into bed with you, although insisted she didn’t need any covers or blankets since she was just going to take a nap. After that, you couldn’t resist the sleep threatening to spread through your system and you passed out. It felt like minutes passed at most, until you were suddenly gently shaken awake.

You fought to open your eyes before you squinted and looked up at whoever had woken you up. Slowly, the indistinguishable figure transformed into Gwen’s apologetic smile dimly lit by your bedside lamp.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

You groaned, rubbing your bleary eyes and sitting up. “What time is it?” You croaked out. Gwen squinted to discern the numbers in her watch.

“Two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning?!” She nodded, laughing quietly. “Do you have to go?” You would’ve been embarrassed by the heartbreak in your voice, but you were too out of it to dwell on it.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you can go back to sleep. I just wanted to let you know.”

You didn’t quite process what was going on until you saw her backing away to the window. Suddenly fully awake, your eyes widened and you threw your covers off of you. “What are you doing?”

Gwen opened the window and glanced back at you, lifting a brow. “Leaving?”

You yawned, shaking your finger at her. “No, no, no—” You rubbed your eye and laughed at her. “How about I lead you out of the door like a normal person?”

Gwen blushed, slowly closing the window. “Ah, well, I guess that’s an option.”

“I don’t want to wake anyone up, though, so just stay quiet, alright?” Gwen simply nodded and you wrapped your hand around her wrist, guiding her towards your bedroom door. You opened it as silently as you could, holding your breath, almost afraid that if you breathed, the entire house would be blown away. There’s only darkness, but you walked into it unbothered, while Gwen followed you like a loyal animal. Now that her sight was gone, she fully took in your touch as your soft hold tugged on her arm. You suddenly stopped and she mimicked you, patiently waiting for the sound of the unlocking of the door. However, all she picked up was the shuffling of your feet before you held in your breath. Then, she felt your other hand grab hers.

“Gwen?” You asked quietly, your voice so timid the darkness and the silence could’ve easily engulfed it. Without the view of your face, your skin against hers seemed too much, nearly unbearable.

“…Y-Yeah?”

“Can you see me?”

She shook her head, until she recalled that if she couldn’t see you, neither could you see her and the gesture was nothing more than useless. “Not really.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

You giggled, and it didn’t knock over the walls, but it most definitely almost did her body. “No. Do you want me to?”

“Eh… no, thanks.”

“Ok, dork.” You chuckled, but it instantly came to an end. Your breathing wasn’t steady anymore— it trembled, sounded heavy. Then, out of nowhere: “If I kiss you, are you going to run away?”

Gwen just blinked. Despite the darkness, white dots exploded in her vision. “W-what?” Her voice almost failed her.

“Can I kiss you?”

In the room, there was nothing more. It was just your nervous breaths, your loud fridge, and Gwen’s heart. Her heart at full volume, pumping fast, doing its best to keep her awake, sane, on her feet. It was just you and her. Solely you, your gentle hands, and her. She blinked again.

“Okay.”

Your touch disappeared but then reappeared on her cheek, and absentmindedly, she placed her hand over yours. Your thumb, shaking, searched for her mouth, until it successfully brushed against her lips. Gwen gulped, her skin tingling as your breath fanned over it.

It was just you, her, and your lips. Your lips and her own.

You both remained with your eyes closed after your lips lost contact, although it didn’t make a difference in any way. But Gwen’s eyelids fluttered open, and a beam began to blossom.

“I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”

You kissed her a second time before she left.

It would be a criminal understatement to say that Gwen freaked out after she arrived back home. When she made the decision to start letting new friends into her life for good at the beginning of the year as another New Year’s resolution, she took a gigantic step. She then spoke to MJ, which was a leap in itself, and you joined the band. She stumbled, balanced herself on one foot at the edge for a while, but eventually, she managed to jump to the third step once she waited outside your school and apologized to you. She was convinced that would be it; the final and toughest stride, because if she managed to get past through all the previous ones, then it had to mean she was ready, right?

She was just finding out she was wrong, though.

The plan was to make a friend. A friend and nothing more nor nothing less. However, without being fully conscious of it, she continued to sprint up the stairs, past what her original intention was. And now, as she stared so far up at the next colossal step— at the feelings that kept growing for you, at your kiss, at you— she felt herself tipping backwards. There was no way she could climb that. She’d only slip and plummet down to her death.

Somehow, though, when you two agreed on meeting up at an arcade two days later, she decided she might as well go for it.

Gwen eyed the time for what she felt was the millionth time that day and her mask muffled the groan that followed. She had at least thirty minutes left of patrol and— she knew it was a dramatic statement— she didn’t know if she would be able to make it through them. I could call it a day earlier, she thought. It had been the most uneventful day lacking any major criminal activity, after all: all she did was help a little kid get back to his father and stop the usual theft, but other than that, she spent the day swinging around and even had the time to take a picture with a fan.

Her phone began to vibrate. You were calling her. “Hey… you…kid…” She cringed. How was she supposed to greet you from now on? Things weren’t the same.

She heard you snort at her hello. “Hi. Just wanted to tell you that I’m on my way.”

Gwen’s brows snapped together and she checked the time one more time. “Already? You’re early.”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get started earlier so I don’t have to walk back home too late, but also so I can beat your ass and get more tickets than you.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Not really, because I already know I’m gonna win.”

“Don’t sound so confident,” Gwen smiled and lied down on her back, staring up at the sky. “But if you do win, you better get me a prize.”

“Why would I get the loser a prize? I’m gonna get myself something cool and big and rub it in your face.”

Gwen scoffed but giggled nonetheless. All of a sudden, you went dead silent and she sat up, perking her ears for any further noise. “Y/N? Are you still there?”

It took you a few seconds to answer. “I just heard something weird.”

Gwen’s face drained of color and she jumped up, the tingling present in the back of her head. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Get out of there. Now. Find somewhere that’s crowded.”

“Don’t be so paranoid. I bet it’s nothing. Could you imagine if I, like, got murdered, though?” You laughed nervously, trying to ease both of your nerves but Gwen’s sting in her head was only strengthening. “How tragic. Anyway—”

Your voice halted. A distant strangled cry left the speaker. “Y/N?!” Gwen called for your attention, frantic, her heart nearly breaking out of her chest. Something was not right.

“Hold on.”

It was all you said before you ended the call. She wasted no time nor hesitated— she ran to the end of the rooftop and jumped off, shooting a web. She swung as fast as she could, to the point where her aim nearly missed a building. Her thoughts were rushed, hectic, created the worst scenarios so vivid the bile began to make her way up her throat and she had to blink the dampness of her eyes away.

Hiding behind a dumpster nearing the end of an alleyway, you held your phone up to your ear, your legs aching from the speed with which you ran away. You could barely breathe. It was just a messy attempt of ragged breaths that despite how hard you tried to make them quiet, you simply couldn’t. “Please hurry up.”

“We’re trying to get there as fast as we can, miss. Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I’m fi—” A loud bang shook the dumpster next to you and you involuntarily yelped in fear. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was too late.

The woman and the man who chased you quickly found you, and the guy gripped your arm, yanking you out of your hiding spot. “What the fuck did you see?!” He spat in your face, holding you trapped against his body with his arm choking your neck. “Tell us or you’re fucking dead, hear me?!”

You sputtered and your fingernails scratched his arm, trying to get him off of you. When you realized you weren’t getting anywhere, your eyes flickered down to your hand. You blindly moved it up to his face, and once you grazed his eyelashes, you dug your fingers into his eye with all your strength.

He cried out and let go of you. Without thinking, you spun around and went in to punch whatever area of his face you hoped your hit landed on. But he recovered quickly and caught your fist in mid-air. All you could do was stare at him in horror. You didn’t quite process what was coming at you until he struck your eye.

“Bad move, kid.” The woman said and you glanced up at her with watery eyes, shielding the throbbing left side of your face. She took out her gun, pointed it at you, and your heart dropped.

You had lost all hope, until a ‘thwip!’ echoed in between the walls.

Out of nowhere, a web stuck to the barrel of the gun and, in the blink of an eye, snatched it from the woman’s grasp. Spider-Gwen came into your blurry vision before she spun the gun and smacked it onto the stranger’s head.

She stumbled backwards, grasping her head. Meanwhile, Gwen shot two webs at the wall behind the older girl. Holding onto the strings tightly, she pushed herself off the ground and knocked her down with a kick at her jaw. As she webbed her to the wall, her eyes suddenly widened. She swiftly ducked under, dodging a punch coming from the man behind her. Crouching down, she swiped her leg under him and sent him down.

After he fell on the ground, Gwen towered over him, her fists shaking with fury. As soon as he opened his eyes, she drew her arm back and smashed her knuckles into his nose, a painful crack resonating clear and loud.

She panted loudly, her chest rising and falling quickly as she trapped the now unconscious man’s hand to the gravel. She continued to observe him, her lip twitching, the sirens approaching in the background, until she heard a dry sob behind her. She looked back, only to see you backed up into the corner, hugging yourself.

Gwen ran up to you and kneeled down in front of you, holding your hand. “H-Hey, hey, you’re okay now.” She shushed you, her hand almost coming up to your cheek until she stopped herself. She wanted to stay with you and ask more questions, but two police cars parked themselves at the start of the alleyway. Her heart screamed at her not to. It cursed at her, begged for her feet not to move. However, she looked down at you one last moment and she shot a web up at the sky, zipping out of there.

She watched over you for an hour and a half as you talked to the police, and then when the paramedics attended you. She couldn’t stay long, though, since you furrowed your brows and then glanced up, your sight focusing on her. She instantly hid away, deciding that it’d be best if she just waited at your apartment.

Gwen tried telling herself that you were now fine. She saw you there, not missing a limb or anything, breathing and alive. But despite that, she couldn’t rest in peace. The image of you in the corner— your entire body shaking, your rough appearance, the tears that abandoned your eyes. Broken. It wouldn’t fuck off despite how many times she told it to.

She couldn’t help but recall Peter Parker’s face as she shakily held his corpse in her arms. And then she remembered why she had given up on letting anyone get close to her in the first place.

She had lost track of how long she’d been staring at your window. The window which she climbed through just three nights ago when she got locked out of her place. The night your warm smile greeted her. The night you first kissed her. The night that, perhaps if it hadn’t occurred— if she hadn’t forgotten to take her key with her, or she had left her window open, if she had gone to Em Jay’s, Glory’s, or even Betty’s place instead of yours— if she hadn’t been in the picture, you wouldn’t be in the situation that you were in now.

Because of her, you could’ve lost your life.

She’d texted you— as Gwen— asking if you were alright. It didn’t help that you straight up lied and said that you weren’t feeling alright so you decided to skip the night. At last, the light turned on in your room and she snapped out of a trance. It didn’t take long before she was trying to look through your window as discreetly as she could, her heart starting yet again with its running when she made out your silhouette. It moved around the room, until it stopped in front of the window. To her nightmare, your figure grew bigger as it came closer and closer, and opened the window. When she saw your face, her insides twisted.

You nearly screamed as soon as you saw Spider-Woman outside your window. You jumped back. It was the Spider-Woman. Unbelieving, you blinked at her— a bad idea, you then realized, considering your bruised eye.

“…Spider-Woman?”

“Uh, hi there.”

You touched your head, closing your eyes. Maybe the blow you received was worse than you thought. “Am I hallucinating?”

Gwen laughed weakly. “Nope. I’m very real right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You stared at her, disoriented, a million questions running through your brain. “Can I— can I ask what you are doing here?” You chose to ask first.

“I, uh, wanted to check up on you after the incident that happened earlier. I didn’t really have time to say anything.” It wasn’t fully a lie. You nodded slowly, tilting your head.

“How’d you know where I live?”

She couldn’t judge you for asking so many questions, but God, coming up with a lie on the spot was turning out to be problematic for her. “Uh… spider-sense?”

She tried.

You were yet more perplexed. “Spider what?”

“It’s a thing… I have…” She tapped her head. Again, it wasn’t a full-blown lie. Thankfully, you didn’t continue budging and instead hummed, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “You don’t have to answer— only if you want to talk about it, but…what happened?” She asked quietly, afraid of your reaction. Your body went rigid and you hesitated.

“I was going to meet up with a girl I like when I heard and then saw someone getting beaten to death.” Her white eye lenses grew big. “The two out of the three people doing it saw me and began to chase me. I tried to hide, but they eventually caught up to me.” You whispered.

Her fingers touched her mouth. “Oh God… I’m so… I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

You raised a brow. “…What do you mean? You saved me.”

“But I…” Gwen choked up and you furrowed your brows. She checked her watch, her body so weak she was surprised she was standing up. “I have to go. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You don’t deserve it.”

Before you could reply, she scurried away from your window and leaped off the fire escape. You watched as she swung away and eventually disappeared, feeling hazy and more puzzled than ever.

After she thought she had gotten far away enough, Gwen dropped down on a random rooftop, stumbling and falling to her knees. She felt trapped inside the mask. Almost as if it were stuck, permanently sewn to her skin, and if she tried to rip it off, she’d tear every last inch of skin off with it. She was the mask. She was Spider-Woman, and would forever be. It’s a responsibility she was doomed with for eternity unless she lost a fucking limb or her own life, and there’s nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t simply walk away, or dispose of all the criminals and villains, all the calamities and traps hurled at her which sent her defenseless body flying, hurting it, along with everyone else in the way. Everyone else like Peter. Peter and now you.

Her trembling hand ripped off her mask, her wet face nearly freezing as the wind attacked her skin. She took out her phone and searched for your contact, wiping her nose with her gloves. “Hey…” She typed, but stopped. Keep going, she urged herself. Just fucking write. Her thumb hung above the keyboard, her teary eyes fixed on the cursor blinking, taunting her.

“If you don’t do this, I’m going to hate you for the rest of my fucking life, Gwen.” She hissed at herself and hiccuped after. It didn’t matter if you hated her. It had to be done.

You inspected with a frown at your bruised eye in the mirror, your fingers ghosting over the swollen skin. But your grimace vanished and a faint grin took over your features when you received a message and read Gwen’s name. Rapidly, you opened the text, the overwhelming heaviness burning in your chest immediately flickering out.

It was only temporary, though.

Gwen read the message one last time, and her heart dropped down to her stomach the instant she saw you had opened it. Her own words repeated themselves in her head, slashing her skin with regret, mercilessly cutting her heart apart into unfixable bits.

“I’ve been thinking lately, and I think it’d be best if we’re just bandmates. You’re cool, so I hope that there are no hard feelings between us.”

She turned off her phone and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Somehow, she still hated herself.

You didn’t reply. Not a word, no phone call. Nothing. You explained to MJ and Glory what had happened and missed band practice for a week, saying you wanted your eye to heal as much as possible. You never told Gwen anything, though. The girls were in charge of doing it, and she had to act surprised and repress the regret that stabbed at her. Glory was shocked she wasn’t the first to find out and she questioned her about it, but Gwen solely shrugged and forced out a laugh when MJ joked that getting hurt was a curse running for bassists in the band.

The week had finally passed by and you came to Thursday rehearsal. You still greeted Glory with your secret handshake and MJ with the usual hug, as enthusiastic as always. But you ignored Gwen, and she didn’t fight against it. She had now made a promise to herself she couldn’t break.

You’d been practicing for an hour longer than usual, stuck on the same song since Em Jay would stop in the midst of it and insist that you started over again. Everyone knew who was— or, to be more correct— were the culprits, but no one dared to speak up. MJ broke away from the mic, rubbing her face in frustration, and raised her fist in the air to end the playing. “Okay, that sucked. Yet again. But it’s okay, let’s start over from the top.”

Glory let her fingers run down the keyboard, creating what you could say was the loveliest catastrophe of a melody, and sighed. “Em Jay, I think we should take a break—”

“No, no, no, we’ll get it right this time. Let’s just get it over with, okay?” No one agreed, but she continued nonetheless. “One, two, three!”

You began again. At first, no one was messing up, and Em Jay’s hope returned. However, a minute into the song, both the drums and the bass went their own ways and invented their own pace, and MJ turned around, her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to say it, but you two really need to get your shit together.” She pointed at Gwen and then at you.

Gwen glanced at you. “Y/N’s a bit late.” You opened your mouth in disbelief and faced her.

“You’re going way too fucking fast!”

“No, that’s the right tempo.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Since when?”

“Since always!” Gwen exclaimed, sharing your scowl. “I’m the one who’s been here since the beginning, I think I know better.”

You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit, okay?!” You yelled at her, taking an intimidating step closer to her. When MJ noticed Gwen gripping her drumsticks hard, she tried to intervene.

“Guys—”

“Leave it, Mary Jane.” Gwen warned her, her face stern, and MJ stared at her, expressionless.

“It’s Em Jay.”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“Yeah, you very clearly don’t, huh?” You said, laughing without humor and stepping even closer to Gwen. “You don’t know shit, and you don’t give a shit about anyone. It’s scary how you pretend to care about someone, but you don’t. You just fucking use them to keep yourself entertained for a while, until you get bored and then decide to leave.” You were now right in front of her, and you pointed an accusing finger into her face. Gwen tensed her jaw, fighting hard against the wetness of her eyes.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, don’t fucking lie, Gwen.” You glared at her, shaking your head. “Don’t act like I don’t know you.”

You both shared eye contact for a few moments, and as Gwen began to blink hard, you scoffed and took a step back. “Whatever.” You muttered and turned away. “I think I’m done for the day.”

The room stayed dead silent while you packed your things up. Glory and Em Jay communicated with each other through their gazes, both equally as confused, but Gwen stuck her sight to the floor, her lip trembling as she curled her hand so tightly around the drumstick it snapped. You slammed the door shut, and Em Jay cleared her throat, biting her nails.

“What the fuck just happened?” MJ and Glory moved their stares to Gwen. “Gwen?”

Gwen rubbed her eye, sighing. “What?” She mumbled. MJ approached her slowly, frowning.

“You got something to tell us?”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe.” Glory raised her brows. “I messed up long ago.”

“She seems too mad for it to have been long ago.” MJ laughed nervously, but Gwen wasn’t taking any of it anymore. She stood up and pulled her hair, groaning.

“God, Em Jay, this wouldn’t have happened if you had just fucking stopped trying so hard to make our friendship work. You don’t even care about me making friends, you just wanted to feel good about yourself for helping poor little me!” She shouted, nudging MJ with her drumsticks. Em Jay remained quiet, visibly hurt, and hugging herself.

“Gwen.” Glory repeated, her strict voice shocking both Gwen and MJ. “I think you hurt someone. And I think you owe them an apology.”

Gwen took a moment to breathe, and that was when she realized what she had done. She looked at MJ and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Em Jay. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Thank you for trying. I should’ve tried harder as well.” She whispered sadly.

The corner of MJ’s mouth quirked upwards, and gripped her hand back. “Thanks. But I think you’ve got one more apology left.”

It felt like February all over again. Back when MJ called her to tell her the same thing, and one day later, Gwen waited outside your school. However, this time, she knew she had to apologize for real. For the correct reason.

Gwen let her drumsticks fall to the floor and she jumped over the cables. Speeding out of the door, she hoped she still had the chance to catch up to you and hadn’t lost you again. To her relief, you were at the end of the corridor, in front of the opening elevator doors when she called out your name. Your ears perked up, but your expression hardened when you saw her running up to you. “Y/N, listen—”

“Fuck off.” You laughed and moved to get into the elevator, but Gwen grabbed your arm and spun you around.

“No!” You stared at her, shocked. “N-No, I’m not going to… fuck off. Not this time.” Her eyes were big, begging.

You clutched her wrist and pulled her hand away from you. “I think it’s too little too late, Gwen. I’ve had enough.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Just let me talk, please.”

“No.” You shushed her, breathing heavily. “Let me talk, okay? Let me tell you about this little mistake of yours. Not only did you act as if you didn’t know me months ago and said we were never friends when I joined the band, but you acted as if you hadn’t already done this. You played with my feelings. Not once, but apparently fucking twice! And you didn’t even apologize!”

Your voice broke as you finally let out your repressed feelings, and you hated yourself for it. You despised yourself for still listening to her, for still caring about her.

You left Gwen speechless. “You wanted to talk, and now I’m giving you the chance. Say something.” You begged, prepared to be let down. But she looked up at you and let out a shaky sigh, sniffing.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought I liked you a year ago when we first met. I really did. The feelings were there, b-but…”

“If you never liked me, then why’d you come back?” You asked, broken-hearted. It hurt Gwen to see how much pain she had caused you, all because she was too much of a coward to own up to her feelings.

“That’s the thing.” She breathed out, shrugging. “Maybe I do.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“Don’t make me explain it, please.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning. “For fuck’s sake.” Gwen shook her head and her shoulders began to shake.

“I can’t…”

“Why not—”

“Because it scares me!” She cried out, a sob finally breaking free from her system. You frowned.

“Why?”

“B-Because…” She wiped her nose, struggling to spit it out. “I really like you. I really do. And I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that. I can’t lose you.”

You gently grabbed her shoulder, while your other hand held her chin. “I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here.”

It wasn’t as simple as that. “I can’t.” She said again, even if she didn’t want to let go of your touch. You bit your lip.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

She didn’t know what to answer. Your hand slowly sneaked down to hold hers, and you looked at her for permission, your expectations not as high. But she clutched your hand hard. “You can do it, Gwen. You can’t spend the rest of your life like this. If you do, you will lose everyone.” You smiled sadly. You quieted down, pondering, but eventually, you breathed out and closed your eyes. “I really like you, too. I always did. And if I have to wait, it’s okay. Just… don’t disappear again, okay?”

Gwen analyzed your face. She wondered what you must have looked like that night back when you kissed her. And since she hadn’t done anything right before, she wondered whether she could try again.

In a second, she squeezed her eyes shut and pecked your lips. You were caught off guard as your fingers came up to touch your mouth. “Nah, you’re right. I think it’s about damn time.” She bit back her smile.

She took the big step.

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