#she said i can do the internship whenever and it just means i fail the related class which is what i thought

[stillagoodwitch]

the girl i was friends with for a month in the first year always easing my school related anxiety<333

[dancingisdangerouss]

Hiii~ I saw your request post and I wanted to make one for Doc Ock. I was wondering if we could see Doc Ock becoming lonely in his hideout so he kidnaps one of his former students (female and shy please). She’s afraid out of her mind but he thinks it’s adorable. NSFW and fluff if that’s ok too? Thank you 🥰

Hello!~ It's been a while since I had been able to write for Doc Ock, so I was more than happy to do this request. I'm hoping it's decent; I'm realizing I'm not very good at doing quick little drabbles, as I have trouble condensing stuff and not dragging it out or adding a lot of details. Might have to start limiting requests to headcanons for a little while until I can catch up to speed with all the requests. But anyway! Hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for!

Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, oral sex

Without Otto around to mentor her through her internship, Y/N had been graciously accepted to work under Harry Osborn with Oscorp Industries, so that she could complete her schooling.

Fondness bloomed in the deepest trenches of the doctor’s chest as he watched Y/N roll her eyes behind Harry’s back, unamused by his charms. It heated his aglid heart to see how much less she enjoyed the Osborn kid’s company than his own, her stiff smiles and forced laughs something he had never once seen from her during her time under his own wing.

No, when in his presence, Y/N was none short of genuine, so much so that he could read her every emotion like the pages of a beloved children’s story. Her grins and giggles never sounded insincere around him, and, to his delight, nor did her blushes or her nervous stammers. 

The timid young woman hid just out of sight beneath an eggshell, always taking two steps back the closer he got to her. He should have felt offended by her skittishness around him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find an allure in her shy nature. She startled easily and shrunk down whenever he stood over her, looking for all the world like an abandoned kitten he wanted to take home with him.

You can take what you want.

Otto’s dark brows knit at that. Yes, yes, that was true, he certainly had the means and power now to do as he desired…No! Absolutely not. He couldn’t just steal a person, that was absurd!

What’s so absurd about it?

The scientist pinched his sunglasses between gloved fingers, ignoring the dull pounding of a building headache. “It’s absurd because she’s not some…some object,” he told himself aloud, trying to shake away such a ridiculous thought.

She’s beautiful like one. 

“She is, isn’t she…” Otto groaned, spreading his large hand across his face. “That is beside the point! I cannot simply kidnap a woman because I’m—”

Alone?

Abandoned?

Forgotten?

Anguished?

Forsaken?

“ENOUGH!” Otto Octavius panted, hands at his knees as the actuators crowded around him, their scarlet beams boring into his skull. “Enough, all of you…please…”

You deserve to take what you want.

“I…I don’t…”

You’re not a failure. The world has failed you. 

“Th-that’s not—”

Think of her.

A static image of Y/N fizzled into Otto’s brain, frozen in his mind’s eye. 

Y/N smiled so sweetly at him, one hand loosely gripping the shawl on her arm in an anxious gesture as he spoke over her, resplendent in a cyaneous dress from one of Oscorp’s formal events. The one they first met at. 

His eyes shamelessly roamed over the image presented to him. Such a timid young woman…He could well and truly tell how much she admired him, and while it was expected for most budding scientists to have an awkward social streak around other people, she had a clumsy way about her that was less off-putting and more…endearing, perhaps.

Look at her.

“I-I’m looking…”

Don’t you want her?

“...I do, I just—”

Then take her.

Otto stared into the memory of Y/N’s eyes, and the longer he sank into those E/C depths, the more his plans solidified. 

He had to have her.

That night, the scientist took the same route he had traversed for the past few weeks, following Y/N’s trek from Oscorp Industries to her apartment on the other side of town. He always kept a careful watch on her, in particular during the times where she ducked past dark alleyways or broken street lamps. Thankfully, for the most part, she kept her gaze down and people didn’t bother her much.

Otto gave her a few more hours, allowing her to have dinner, change, brush her teeth, and crawl into bed, all while he leaned against the brick of the building, watching the night roll out. After another hour or so of trying to ascertain the difference between stars and planes overhead, he finally unlocked her window with one of the meticulous claws, ensuring nothing broke as he entered her bedroom.

Y/N was fast asleep, burrowed into a mass of blankets and covers, none-the-wiser to his appearance. 

The claw peeled back her bedcovers, revealing Y/N dressed in soft cotton pajama shorts and a matching spaghetti-strap tank. He subdued an amused chuckle as his eyes scanned the patterns of her sleepwear (penguins with cowboy hats and water pistols), but had more trouble catching back a strangled gasp when he realized Y/N was without a bra. Tiny pebbles poked through the fabric, made even more so prominent as he stole away the warmth of her covers.

Control yourself. 

Had that been his voice? Or that of one of his new “companions” whispering in his ear? Either way, the advice was solid, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat before continuing.

One of the actuators worked its way carefully around her frangible form, taking care to grip her hard enough to secure her where he wanted her, but not so much as to cause her any discomfort. The mechanical digits clutched around her waist, gently lifting her from the mattress.

Y/N drooped in his grip, her head lolling to the side and hair curtaining her face from the shift in gravity. A free claw was quick to swoop in and pluck the fallen hairs out of the way. 

For a few unstable heartbeats, Otto held her close in front of him, pleased to finally see her up-close again. Her eyelashes fluttered with dreams, her lips parted slightly as she mumbled something about a “nuclear panda.” One of Otto’s gloved hands flexed, chasing away the temptation to swipe a leather finger down her cheek and jaw. 

The scientist’s free arms hoisted him back out through the window, cautiously taking Y/N’s unconscious form along with him. Gooseflesh erupted along her exposed skin from the brisk night air, and a part of him considered removing his coat for her, but dismissed the idea when it occurred to him that that would risk waking her; the last thing he needed was for Y/N to awaken in the middle of being carried high over the glittering city below, and to realize she was in danger of plummeting to her death.

He’d sooner die by gruesome torture than ever let something like that happen—but obviously, she would not be privy to his intentions. There was no need to send the poor thing into a full-on heart attack. 

Otto transported her at a slower pace than he normally took, ensuring she would not be jerked and tossed about like a ragdoll. As they neared his hideout at the abandoned pier, he thought on the suffocating grasp of frigiferous loneliness that normally strangled his lungs upon arrival, his chest oddly lightweight with Y/N in his possession. He smiled.

Settling in, he lay Y/N down upon the makeshift bed he had fashioned in the back of the crumbling structure, allowing her to roll from the claw cradled at her hips. She groaned softly as he drew a ragged blanket over her bare shoulders, and felt a swirl of guilt at having not better prepared for her being there. Not that there was much to be done to improve the hospitality of a decaying pier, but still. 

Y/N took some time to rise with the sun, and though Otto was never much of a patient man, for her, he could make an exception. Besides, he took a strange pleasure in watching her sleep, her legs occasionally kicking and flinching, her lips parted as she occasionally muttered nonsense, eyelashes sweeping her cheeks.

Eventually, as the sun broke through and bathed her in a ruddy orange glow, Y/N began to stir, her dreams fading into the sunlight. Befuddled by her arrangement, the girl cast a quick look around her at all sides, determined she was indeed no longer dreaming, and began to scream.

Perhaps breaking, entering, and stealing away his former student away in her sleep was not the doctor’s brightest idea. 

“Y/N!” Otto called out, allowing his mechanical limbs to draw him closer, until he hovered a few inches over her prone form.

“D-Dr. Octavius?” Y/N whispered, rubbing an eye with the back of her fist as she blinked away any last remnants of sleep, possibly questioning the reality of her current situation. “Where—oh my god, where am I?”

“It’s okay, take a second to breathe,” he reassured her, but she flinched away from his hand as he went to pat her shoulder. “You’re safe. I’m not going to harm you.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Y/N pulled the ratty blanket closer to her shivering skin, eyes roving across the abandoned pier with sheer bewilderment. “How did I-I get here? And wh…” She trailed off, words catching in her throat as she took in his appearance.

That’s right, he hadn’t seen her since the accident. 

Seeing her former mentor hovering over her, his monstrous tentacles tracking her movements with electric crimson eyes, she couldn’t help but to quiver. There was no way she had missed seeing his name and face in the news, for all the various crimes blotting his record, so she knew what he was capable of.

Y/N shrunk away as he drew closer, hugging the blanket to her chest. “Please! Dr. O-Octavius, please. Why am I here?”

The doctor could hardly admit that he had kidnapped her because he was lonely.

“I just…missed my favorite student,” he murmured, leather fingers coming to rest at her jaw.

Y/N winced, and he felt her shivers against the back of his hand. “Please d-don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” he chuckled fondly, allowing one of the actuators to replace his hand. “Didn’t I just get through saying I wouldn’t harm you, Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes shone with a thin layer of glittering tears, and Otto’s heart stopped abruptly. Teasing her for more of those terrified expressions and fearful mewls was enticing, but he never intended to push her to a breaking point. While he found the imbalance of power between you two admittedly…appealing, he wasn’t a proud man to make you cry. 

“Don’t…Damn it. Y/N, I was being serious, I won’t…”

Without warning, Otto turned sharply on his feet, storming across the clearing as he ran his hands through his hair, mulling over what had compelled him to do something so idiotic.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he concluded, ignoring the actuators as they popped up all around his face, staring him down with beady, volatile crimson eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking…damn! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll take you home.”

He moved to grab her and she flinched again.

“Sorry! My apologies, I wasn’t…I just…need to carry you back, that’s all. I know the arms are intimidating, but they won’t—”

“Oh, no, it’s n-not that,” Y/N assured him, playing absentmindedly with a loosened string on the elastic of her shorts. “I-I just don’t…want to go?”

Otto gawked down at the girl, the gears in his head turning wildly as they raced to track this conversation. “I’m sorry?”

“I-I said that I…” Y/N’s eyes jumped from object to object around the pier, never fully meeting his eyes directly, “I don’t, um…well, I don’t want to leave.”

Even the actuators gaped at her, cocking their claws from side to side like baffled pups, hissing softly. When Otto remained without words, Y/N buried her face in her hands, digging her fingers into her hair momentarily before exhaling a frustrated huff.

“I-I missed you, Dr. Octavius!” she blurted. Hands falling from her face, he saw that telltale surge of color in her cheeks, her bottom lip twitching as she struggled to overcome an inner battle.

“I’ve always, uhm, admired you, d-doctor. Your work ethic, y-your thoughts o-on nuclear science are unparalleled. And you’ve always taken your time with me! Y-you never—you never made me feel like an idiot for not getting things, and you’ve always had such a brilliant brain. It’s…it’s why I decided to intern under you in the first place.”

Y/N still avoided his eyes, her stammers lessening but her bashfulness remaining at full tilt as she fiddled with a strand of her hair. “I like you, Dr. Octavius. I’m…I’m sure you hear it all the time, so I know it hardly means anything coming from someone like me, but I think you’re amazing. Your thoughts, your passions, all of it, And I just w—”

Otto cleared the gap, allowing his arms to lower him just enough to where he could align his lips with hers, slotting their mouths together in a deep kiss that made him thankful that the arms were there to support his weight. He melted into her with a relieved sigh, gloved hands finding their way around either side of her face to angle her better against him.

For a horrifying moment, Y/N did not respond, merely trembling beneath the sensual kiss as he worked his lips over hers, exploring the feeling of her mouth against his.

However, a moment later, Y/N’s shaky hands reached up to gently rest at the back of Otto’s neck, urging him closer as she relaxed back into him, her lips soft and pliable, parting welcomingly to allow his tongue entrance.

His gloved hands roamed her cautiously, touching here and there as they kissed to assess her comfort levels. For as shy of a little thing as she was, the vixen made no protests to his advances, even going so far as to encourage them with little nips at the base of his throat.

"You're not afraid?" he asked between gasping breaths.

"I was," Y/N admitted, sighing into his touch, "only because I thought...I thought it might not be you in there. But it is."

He moaned without meaning to, and Y/N sat upright higher on the mattress to reach him, tentative hands brushing along his waistline. She continued that way for a time, offering her open mouth to his as her fingers played with his belt, stroking up and down his bare chest but always coming back to rest at his thighs.

Espresso eyes met hers, questioningly, tracking the little darts of her eyes and continued adornments of color to her cheeks and nose.

"Are you..." He leaned in, catching her earlobe between his teeth, "wanting to touch me, Y/N?"

Y/N swallowed visibly, and he got the impression that she wasn't one to be vocal about the things she wanted. "Y-yes, Dr. Octavius. May I?"

"Then by all means," he rumbled, voice tone dipping down from lust.

Her hands fumbled shakily over the buckle, listening for that metallic click to signify her access to him. Dipping a hand into his pants, she began to gently palm his heat in her fingers, self-consciously brushing across his package through the fabric.

Otto craned his neck back, straining for control. The demure little thing was shy in every aspect of herself, including the way she played him. Unfortunately, this meant her feather-light teases were now driving him insane.

Growling, the doctor allowed her to free him from the discomfort of his tight confines, his cock throbbing into her palm. Length-wise, she shouldn't have any troubles, but he had been blessed with a generous girth.

Y/N dotted kitten-light kisses to the weeping tip and Otto shook, breaths harsher as his mechanical limbs stretched out, locking onto the pier floorboards to stabilize him, lest his knees buckle. Y/N continued her torturous teases with diminutive licks all over his engorged head and length, her tongue prodding at the veins beneath the surface.

The scientist swore under his breath as she slurped the tip of him into her mouth, finally allowing him to breach her warmth. He bucked involuntarily toward her lips, stifling a desperate whine as she carried on with her coy navigation of him, suckling and licking around him like a lollipop, until finally he could take no more, and gripped the back of her hair.

Y/N peered upward, and the sight of her sitting beneath him, cheeks bulged with his cock as she tilted her head questioningly up at him, was enough to make him thrust forward, inching his way into further her mouth. Y/N obliged without complaint, her eyes fluttering shut as she worked him in deeper, careful to breathe steadily and angle him in such a way that she wouldn't choke just yet.

The girl hollowed her cheeks around him, suckling gently as her tongue encompassed him, roving over every bit of velvety flesh it could reach. Otto began to pick up the pace, ever watchful of her reactions to ensure she was okay with it, his hips colliding with her lip as he began fully stuffing himself down her throat.

Y/N gagged momentarily, tears manifesting at her eyelashes, but she remained dutiful, bobbing herself lightly up and down on him as his thrusts began to take on an uneven pace. With a final moan, he spent himself down her throat, clutching the back of her head to ensure he hit as far down as humanly possible.

He released her. Y/N coughed, but seemed otherwise no worse for wear, running her tongue along her lips to collect the last remnants of his sticky seed from her face. He shuddered at the sight.

Y/N rested her hands at his thighs, catching her breath in time with his. Otto swooped back in, catching her mouth to his in a quick, searing kiss. He hardly minded the taste of himself, so long as it was on her lips.

"Mm, Dr. Octavius—"

"Dear, I think we've moved well beyond formalities," he chuckled, letting one of the actuators cradle her cheek against its edge. "Please, call me Otto."

[punkfeathers]

More Fatfam headcanons because I can and the hyperfixation is real

Tamaki might not be very talkative but he is but he IS the best at listening to people vent without trying to ‘fix’ their problems, which is why his siblings usually go to him when they need someone to vent to. He always feels like he didn’t do anything, despite them thanking him afterward for helping them feel better.

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu occasionally have horror movie marathons in an attempt to increase their ‘manliness’, but every time without fail they always end up sleeping in Tamaki’s room when it’s over, crowding onto his twin size bed. He’s always too sleepy to bother kicking them out, though, so he has to wear earplugs whenever this happens because they BOTH snore. One time he asked them ‘Why can’t you go sleep in Momo’s room’ and they just said ‘because you’re comfy’ and he still doesn’t know what that was supposed to mean

Momo loves doing her brothers’ hair as much as they will let her. Tetsutetsu will only let her do it MAYBE once a month, and Kirishima allows it more often since gelling his hair takes forever, but Tamaki doesn’t know how to say no because he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings so he usually winds up being the guinea pig that she tries out new styles on. He won’t leave the house like that though because *anxiety*

Tetsutetsu always invites his friends from class 1B over to his house because they don’t get as many chances to interact with pro heroes and they appreciate being able to ask his dad questions about internships and hero work and such. They always stay for dinner too (because if you’re gonna hang out at Fat Gum’s house you are definitely staying for dinner). Kirishima was a bit annoyed the first time Tetsutetsu invited Monoma over because he thought he was just going to talk trash about class 1A all evening, but instead was surprised when Monoma just spent the whole time telling them all funny stories about his middle school theater group and making Fat Gum laugh

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are the reason Fat Gum had to set a ‘no quirks allowed in the house’ rule because they get a little TOO enthusiastic on family game night

Speaking of family game night, they decided to try playing Dungeons and Dragons and everyone got so into it that it now takes precedence over homework. 

Tamaki is the scariest of all his siblings when he’s angry. People can put him down and he won’t defend himself, but the second he hears somebody teasing Momo or his little brothers he bristles like a porcupine and will just stand there glaring at them until they back off (which doesn’t take very long since his ‘scary face’ is more intimidating than he even he realizes)

[atlabeth]

death by a thousand cuts - asami x fem!reader

i listened to this playlist while i wrote this in case you wanna feel my pain while you read this 

summary: in which you and asami fall out of love.

wc: 3.1k 

a/n: good god i am so sorry

warning(s): so much angst. breakups. falling out of love. crying. there is no happy ending 

based off of death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift | gif credit

breaking up with asami sato was the hardest thing y/n ever had to do.

she had never met anyone more.. perfect. 

her raven hair that she loved to tangle her hands in, the emerald green eyes that sparkled whenever she smiled, her infectious laughter that never failed to brighten y/n’s day. the confidence she carried herself with was extremely attractive, and it was one of the first things that caught y/n’s eye.

she never understood her long-winded rants about engineering or what was going on in the business world, but she would listen to her girlfriend read the phonebook if it meant she could hear her talk about something so passionately. the way that she put her full heart into everything she did, the way she loved so fully, it was impossible not to fall for her. 

asami was the smartest, kindest, most beautiful woman that y/n had ever met in her life, and it tore her apart to have to let her go. if someone took a knife to her heart a thousand times then ripped it out of her body, it still wouldn’t hurt as much as losing asami. 

but that was the thing about falling out of love. it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t asami’s fault. it just.. happened.

and it was terrifying.

at first it wasn’t obvious. they were both college students with full lives, so they knew things were going to be busy. y/n was doing an unpaid internship at her dream job in hopes that she would be able to work her way up the ladder, while working another part time to keep herself afloat. asami had always said if she had any money troubles she would be more than willing to help, but y/n preferred to be able to support herself. she never denied an opportunity for her girlfriend to spoil her though. asami was working with her family business and it took a lot of time up as well. combine that with their classes, it was a miracle that they had any free time at all. 

but they made time. any spare moment they had was spent together. they always made it back to the apartment at the end of the day, and they would stay up far later than they should’ve to make up for the time apart. whether it was cooking something together at 2am and making a mess of the kitchen or telling each other about their day or just laying together in bed in each other’s embrace while they fell asleep, they did it together. 

together, together, together. 

there was no better place to be. because when they were together, asami and y/n could face the world. 

people envied them. hardworking women that managed to do it all, high school sweethearts that had been madly in love for years ever since they met their junior year. they danced around the topic of marriage, never fully stepping onto it, but both knew that it was something they wanted. they both thought they were going to be together till the end, so they had plenty of time before they took the plunge. 

y/n didn’t know that asami looked at engagement rings in her spare time, trying to think of one that her girlfriend would love, something that would be able to express how badly asami wanted to spend the rest of her life with y/n. 

asami didn’t know that y/n had a folder of numbers for wedding planners, caterers, musicians, lists of people that would work at a wedding or a reception. the thought of proposing was on her mind constantly, and she wanted to be able to express how badly she wanted to spend the rest of her life with asami. 

but things started to change.

late nights got later, and they no longer ended every day at the apartment. asami had to start going on business trips — future industries was in trouble, and she had to do everything to keep it afloat. this business was her livelihood, her family’s life work, and she couldn’t let it go. y/n understood and was nothing but supportive at first — she knew who her girlfriend was, and she admired her work ethic. 

but the time apart did something to them. just like their love slipping away, it wasn’t noticeable at first. small. but it grew, and the cracks started to form in their perfect relationship. 

asami had been called away on another business trip, this time to the fire nation to try and negotiate some kind of deal between another company. it was taking much longer than expected, so calls like these had become a regular. they would usually start after y/n got home from work, and they would just.. be with each other. sometimes they talked for hours, sometimes they just sat and got their respective tasks done — it was easier when they knew that the other was there. 

y/n was in the worst mood today. she had spent the last ten minutes ranting about the horrible day she had at work, and how she didn’t earn nearly enough to pay for the classes that she took, and textbooks should not be this expensive, and unpaid internships were bullshit. asami was being the same helpful angel as always, but for some reason y/n couldn’t stand it today. 

“y/n, if you’re having money troubles, you know that i can help you. i want to help you, all you have to do is ask! you don’t have to work these insane hours and stress yourself out.”

“asami, how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t need it? how many times have i told you that i want to be able to forge my own path? i don’t- i don’t need you to baby me.” she regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. they had come out so much harsher than she meant and it was obvious by the moment of silence that it had hurt asami. they didn’t have many arguments, so when they did their jabs hit hard, even when they were the smallest of things. 

“i’m not trying to baby you, i’m trying to help my girlfriend so she doesn’t have to worry constantly about money! i mean, what’s the point of having a fortune if you can’t use it to help others? i love you, y/n, and i want to h-” 

“i don’t need your help, asami!” she didn’t mean to yell. she never liked yelling — the couple had always been able to work out their problems before with a level head and talking normally — but this just slipped out. the silence that followed after was deafening, and y/n let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i— i’m sorry. i have to go.” 

y/n was about to hang up, but even during fights she didn’t leave without saying it. especially when her girlfriend was in another country, she couldn’t leave without saying it. “..i love you too, asami. goodnight.” 

that was the first sign that things were going downhill. they never had arguments over something as petty as this — y/n wasn’t jealous of asami in any way, she was proud, and her girlfriend succeeding made her happier than anything — but lately it felt like mishaps like this were happening more and more often. 

y/n passed it off as stress from the job — for some reason, asami offering to help just made her take even longer hours — but deep down, she knew. something was changing between her and her girlfriend, and she didn’t like it. 

the things that she used to find endearing were now annoying. she began to tune out asami’s rants about the business world, and her confidence started to come off as cockiness. she was snapping more and more often and found it scary how easily their conversations now irked her.

the same things were happening on asami’s side. she used to love y/n’s brazenness and how she said whatever came to mind, but now it just bothered her. the independence she once admired was getting to her as well — why couldn’t she just accept her help? asami had money, she was willing to help, but she was met with the same stubbornness every time. it was tiring. 

their calls that used to occur every night and last for hours became far and in between, replaced by goodnight texts and i love you’s. and even those ceased -- it wasn’t uncommon for them to go whole days without talking while asami was away. and the worst thing? it didn’t bother her. y/n used to not be able to go an hour without talking to her in some way, but now she was just.. okay with it. 

asami could feel y/n slipping through her fingers, but she couldn’t do anything about it. because she was slipping away as well. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

they couldn’t keep going like this.

both women were ignoring the problem. it was partially out of shock, but mostly out of fear. how could they have lost their love like that? the flame that they tended together, the wild, passionate flame that was their love, had gone out. what were they supposed to do? what could they do? 

asami was coming home today. y/n would normally pick her up and they would greet each other with the biggest hug and kiss, and then they would spend the entire ride home talking each other’s ears off. but not this time. this time, asami did it all herself. drove herself to and from the airport, taking the parking fees over y/n driving her. she was surprised at how much she enjoyed the silence on the ride home, but it gave her time to think. too much time to think about what was going on with her and her girlfriend. 

but she already knew the answer. 

asami fidgeted with the key into the apartment and pushed the door open, trailing a suitcase behind her as she walked into the empty room. “y/n?” she called, only being met with the echo of her own voice. “i’m home!”

her eyes drifted around and saw the door out to the balcony was open, y/n leaning against the railing. she looked absolutely beautiful in the moonlight, but the pang she felt in her heart was just sadness instead of happiness. and just like that, she knew she was going to have to bring it up. 

they couldn’t keep going like this. 

y/n turned around as she heard footsteps, her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly as she saw who it was. “hi,” she whispered. 

“hi.” asami returned the greeting and she came to rest on the balcony next to her. neither of them said anything for a long time, but somehow they both knew. the statement hung in the air. five simple words, five words that would end it all. five words that neither of them could say, but both of them knew had to be said. 

that was one thing about being together for this long — they knew each other better than anyone else, and they wouldn’t ever be able to forget. 

“how was your trip?” y/n asked, wanting to break the silence. anything was better than standing here waiting for the hammer to drop. anything to stop those words from being uttered. 

“it was alright,” asami murmured. “we secured the deal, so future industries is safe for now. i’ll probably be gone again on another business trip before you know it, though.” 

“i’m happy for you.” that wasn’t a lie, but the thing that scared her was how she felt nothing knowing that asami was going to be leaving again. she wasn’t sad, she wasn’t disappointed, she just felt nothing. and that was the biggest sign yet. 

both of them turned to look at each other at the same time, and y/n was almost taken aback by the pure melancholic expression asami wore. in that moment, she knew. she knew because that was the exact same expression she had when she looked in the mirror in the morning. 

y/n opened her mouth to say something, say anything, but before she knew what was happening asami’s lips were on hers. her eyes shut and she instinctively pulled asami closer, hands already tangling in her hair. it was too easy to get caught up in it all again, too easy to forget. because they both wanted to forget. 

y/n wanted nothing more than to stay like this. she knew it couldn’t stay like this, she knew that holding onto their broken love was unhealthy, but she just couldn’t let go. even though there was nothing behind the kiss, she just couldn’t let it go. it was the scent of asami’s perfume pervading her senses that caused her to pull away first. 

y/n pursed her lips, feeling the familiar sting behind her eyes. she smiled sadly and breathed out a laugh, shaking her head in an effort to avoid eye contact. it didn’t last long. “we can’t put it off any longer. this— us. it’s over, isn’t it?”

“i’m so sorry, y/n.” y/n didn’t know if she was apologizing for kissing her or for their lost love — for all she knew it could’ve been both. her green eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and as she stared into them all the memories of the last couple years came back. years of happiness, laughter, nights spent together and waking up next to each other. “i.. i don’t know how it happened. it felt like one day, everything was perfect, and the next, i just—“

“you don’t have to be sorry, asami.” y/n took asami’s hands in her own as she spoke softly, and spirits. their hands fit together so perfectly that it hurt. “i felt it too. i didn’t want to acknowledge it, but.. i knew. i’ve known since that first phone call.”

“how did this happen?” she rasped, rubbing circles on y/n’s hand with her thumb with a far off look in her eyes. “did we do something wrong? i- i thought you were the one. i know we’re young, but i can’t see myself with anyone else. in every future i‘ve imagined, you’ve been by my side.” 

spirits, that made things so much harder. that was exactly how y/n felt. asami sato had always been who she saw at the end of the tunnel, the one who she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. it was a rare feeling, the love they shared, and trying to cope with the fact that that love was gone was like trying to wake up from a walking nightmare. 

“i.. i don’t know.” it seemed like the only thing she did know was that the love of her life was gone. she didn’t know how it happened, she didn’t know why it happened, she only knew that she no longer had asami sato. y/n blinked back tears and had to let go of asami’s hands. it hurt too much, knowing that she would never get to hold her hands, hold her, in the same way they used to. it hurt too much knowing that the spark was gone. she rested her forearms on the balcony, the faint night breeze blowing all around her. 

“we’ll still be friends, right?” asami’s voice was faint as she came to stand against the balcony with y/n once more, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “we spent the last seven years together. that- it doesn’t just go away now that we’re no longer…” she didn’t want to say the words. saying it meant that it was real, it meant that all of this was really happening. it meant that she was really losing the girl she thought she would get to call her wife one day. 

“i…” she bit the inside of her cheek. “i hope so. i sincerely hope so. but i’m going to need some time before we can be.. ‘just friends’ again.” y/n pressed one of her hands into the side of her head and shook her head. “i’ll- uh, i’ll move my things out this weekend. i have a friend i can crash with tonight and until i find an apartment.” 

“yeah, of course. of course— as much time as you need.” her voice cracked on the last word and asami swallowed hard. “if you need any money, you can ask-” 

“asami.” y/n hated how her name sounded on her lips now. it used to be so full of love, happiness, a reminder of every good thing in the world. now it just reminded her of what she no longer had. it felt empty. 

she wished she felt something. y/n knew it wasn’t fair to asami, but yelling and screaming at her would’ve made her feel better than this emptiness behind her heart. anything would be better than this nagging feeling in her chest. 

she stopped talking and they faced each other, so close but worlds apart. asami’s hands itched to reach for y/n’s again, and y/n wanted nothing more than to find herself in asami’s embrace again. before they knew it, they were both leaning in. 

their lips met again in one final kiss, one final plea to all the spirits that their love would suddenly come back. that the butterflies, the electricity, the almost overwhelming happiness would re-emerge; that this was all just a cruel misunderstanding and that they could go back to being together. but as y/n pulled away, she felt nothing. and she knew asami felt the same way.

a single tear trickled down y/n’s cheek as she stared in the eyes of her former love with a sadness that words couldn’t begin to describe.

“i’ll always love you, asami sato.”

“i’ll always love you, y/n y/l/n.”

the whispered declarations were more like goodbyes, and as y/n walked back into the house, wiping away rapidly falling tears, asami was doing the same as she gazed up at the moon. their thoughts mirrored each other’s. 

“why did it have to be us?”

[unmaskedagain]

No, Bruce! You can’t Adopt her.

This isn’t salt, Cupcake. But I’m going to do a quick drabble of this anyway because it’s an awesome idea.

The suit was a deep dark red. Darker than it used to be from what they had seen saw from the previous news reports reviewed. Her mask was black. Her eyes a startling blue and her hair a shade just touch short of being as dark as night. The girl looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen.

Somehow she had shown up on the scene just before any of the batfamily could and immediately solve the riddles, freed the innocent civilization, dismantle the bomb with rubber duck and a hair pin, dodged the trap, and was now fighting off the Riddler and his men.

And as they watched her kick the Riddler in the face and then yo-yo away, only to spin around and do it a second time, all the batkids knew they’d have to step in.

“You can’t adopt her, B-Man,” The Redhood pinched his nose.

           Robin opened to his mouth his defend his father but quickly shut it. His four adopted brothers, an adopted sister, one sort of adopted “cousin”, and the hardcore way his father had been pushing Luke spend more and more time at the manner to the point where Lucius Fox had taken to glaring at the Dark Knight.

“…She needs a mentor,” Came Batman’s gruff response.

“You need a therapist.”

           They winced when Ladybug broke the arm of a 300 pound bodybuilder and slam him on the ground.

           Nightwing gave his dad a grin, “I’d love a new sister, OUCH!” His hand went his thigh and saw blood. He glared at Robin. “Did you stab me?”

           Robin slowly sheathed his sword. “…No.”

“Let go!” Riddler screamed as he clawed at the floor as the red menace dragged across the floor by his legs.

“Stop squirming!” Marinette barked. “You’re going to jail!”

           Somehow the Riddler managed to free himself. Then it was Ladybug chasing the Riddler around the tower.

“Come back here, you fashion disaster.”

           The caused the Riddler to pause and give the hero the most hurt look anyone of the batfamily had ever seen on him.

“Black Bat would love a sister.”

“Leave me out of this,” Cassandra’s voice rang in their ears. She was patrolling with Batwoman across the city.

           The fight ending with The Riddler hogtied, and dangling from the ceiling, while Ladybug chastised him on the rudeness of strapping people to bombs.

           Batman smirked.

“No!” Red Robin decided to step in, “She probably has parents. You can keep doing this B.”

“And another thing,” Ladybug hissed. “I’ve seen Disney villains with more style than you; you walking neon glowstick.”

           That was when Batman decided to step in. The Riddler visibly brightened at seeing him, “Bats, I don’t like this Robin. She’s mean. Bring back the boy Robin”

“That one lit you on fire.”

“…She made me cry.”

           Ladybug glared at the bad guy.

           Oh yes that was it, Batman was going to adopt Ladybug.

           Bruce Wayne was going to adopt Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl and the rest of her class had taken the Wayne internship program that lasted a little more than a month a half during summer.

           Marinette was the star. Unlike the other interns, Marinette was never late. She never complained. If someone needed research done, she was the first to volunteer and was exceptional at it. Tamara, Tim’s assistant, swore by her. The girl took to assisting the assistant to the CEO like fish to water. When they need a big name to perform at the Waynes’ annual charity Gala, after theirs backed out on short notice, Marinette had saved the day.

           She didn’t interrupt. She had merely leaned down and whispered in Tamara’s here, who then addressed the rest of the room.

“My assistant Marinette,” Tamara nodded with a relieved smile at the young girl. “Would like us to direct our attention to the front screen.”

           They all did. A few months later, the screen split and Clara Nightingale was on the screen, looking as glamourous as ever.

“Marinette,” She beamed. “Love, you are as gorgeous as ever. Now what’s this about a party in Gotham?”

           Before she could answered, there was a beep on the screen as another call came in. Marinette scrambled to disconnect it, “One moment. Sorry.” Tamara got up to help, only for the call to connect anyway.

           That was when Jagged Stone appeared on the screen, “Marinette, how’s it rocking? And Clara, I didn’t know you were on the line too. Penny!” He yelled. “I’ve facetiming Marinette and Clara. How you doing, loves?”

“Jagged,” Clara beamed. “I’m great. Xy’s been bugging me to lay vocals on his new tracks. I’ve heard better from my nephew’s garage band; and his nine.”

           Jagged winced. “That’ll tank a career. Dude’s a sound biter.” He turned his attention back to his favorite bluenette. “Marinette, what’s up? What’s with the stiff in suits?”

           Marinette blushed, “I’m Gotham working as intern for Wayne Industries.” Marinette said. “We’re in a meeting.” The young girl smiled prettily. “This is my amazing boss, Tamara!” She introduced the older black woman, standing between her and Tim. “And we could use some help with a Wayne charity event, on the 19th of this month.”

“I’m there!” Jagged grinned. “Hey! Penny, we’re going to Gotham. Marinette invited us to a party. We’re rocking out!”

“I’d love to come,” The brown-haired superstar clapped her hands. “I have been to Gotham yet. It will be an experience. I can write a song about Batman!”

“Well, we only need one of-” Marinette started but stopped herself as someone, Tim, jabbed her in the side. The only give away that something had happened was the slight widening of her eyes and then cough from Tim, when Marinette stomped on his foot. “Maybe, you guys can perform together.”

“YES!” Clara screamed excitedly. “A duet. A clash of natures.”

“Rock and Pop,” Jagged grinned his approval.

“The fans will love it,” The singer looked at Marinette. “Send us the deets. Jagged, I’ll call you in five to start composing our song.”

“Rock it out, talk later Marinette!”

           Then the calls disconnected.

“Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone,” Bruce leaned back in his seat. “Well done, Marinette.”

           The Asian girl nodded, “Thank you, sir.” After the meeting let out, Tim, Bruce, Tamara, and Marinette remained behind as they finalized the information to send to the singers.

Bruce noticed Marinette give Tim a dark look, and then were was a huff and Tim winced in pain.

“Stopping fight with your brother,” Slipped from the billionaire’s mouth before he could stop it.

           The room froze. Tim’s face morphed from shock to understanding to an incredulous expression, “No. I’m telling, Alfred.”

           Bruce crossed his arms and pouted. Pouted. Marinette make an excellent additional the family.

           Her and Ladybug.

           He wondered how well the two would get along. If only he could get the two in a room together.

           Meanwhile…

           Lila had been feeding the class lies about her time in Gotham and living with the Wayne family. Alya believed every word, and had requested an interview with Lila’s Dami-bear.

Somehow she’d gotten stuck working in the mail room with Alya and Kim; neither were happy. She didn’t even know where Marinette ended up so she could spin a tail about the other girl threatening her to switch assignments.

           The only bright spot was the Damian Wayne frequently visited Wayne tower to learn about how the business works. However, whenever she tried to get close to him, he’d give her a look of disdain.

           That didn’t bother Lila though. As soon as he got to know her, or rather the her she’d tell him she was, Damian would fall head over heels.

           However, as the weeks went on in Gotham, she found all her plans to get close to the Wayne heir failed. She even tried visiting his home, feigning being lost, only for the Butler to send her packing. Lila didn’t even get a chance to look inside.

           When she learned about the gala, she upped her game. She found herself just “happening by” whenever Damian just happened to be walking by. One time, Lila even pretended to trip and hurt herself; only for Kim to “rescue” her and Damian to walk on by like she didn’t even exist.

           On the night of the gala, she sat in her hotel room with her adoring classmates, watching it on TV, “I’d have gone of course but Dami-bear didn’t want me to get attention from any Gotham villains.”

           Alya nodded sympathetically.

           Lila opened her mouth to regale another tale about her and Damian love affairs when Sabrina cut her off, “Hey, that’s Marinette!”

           And sure enough, the girl they had all froze out and declared their ex-friend was on screen walking with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, a beautiful black woman, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake. Marinette wore a stunning sliver dress that made eyes stand out even more.

“Who are you wearing, Clara!” A paparazzi called.

“MDC,” The superstar answered and placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “This designer here. Marinette Dupain-Cheng; she designed all of our looks tonight; including her own. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

           More questions were thrown out.

“Jagged, why a crocodile? Why not a dog or a cat.”

“Damian, who are you dating?”

“Why is MDC with you, Tim?”

           Jagged answered first, “Well I wanted a dog. But I’m deathly allergic to fur. Found out when I was a kid. Can’t get near it. Dogs are cool but cats aren’t rock and roll enough for me.”

“I am dating no one,” Damian answered. “Any rumors that say otherwise are lies. Anyone that says otherwise is lying, and should keep in mind I will sue for defamation of character.”  

           Tim grinned at the crowd, “Marinette is Tamara’s intern. She helped organize this wonderful event. She did such an amazing job as an intern that I’ve had to stop my dad from trying to adopt her.” There were laughs from the crowed.

           Damian snorted as they walked inside, “He is not joking.” He was the one who found the adoption papers.

[xaphrin]

Damian was fighting to keep his eyes on the road and his heart in his chest. Next to him sat Raven, looking so damn pretty it hurt to breathe, and he found himself wanting to stare at her the whole ride to the animal shelter. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw a lock of hair had fallen from her bun, brushing against the curve of her cheek. His fingers itched to brush it away, but… right. They weren’t those kinds of friends. 

For the hundredth time that night, he silently promised himself he was doing to keep his heart intact. He might have been head-over-heels in love with her, but that didn’t mean she loved him back, and he wasn’t willing to risk his own feelings just yet. Damian cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. 

“So.” He needed to talk, if only to fill the silence that was growing between them. Otherwise the rest of this night was going to be painfully awkward.

Raven turned and looked at him, her lips pulling down into a frown. “What?”

“How’s your senior thesis coming along?” School seemed a safe topic, so he’d stick with that. “What was it on again? Emily Dickinson?”

Raven’s face fell and she turned to look at him, obviously insulted. “Do you think every female literature student does their senior thesis on Emily Dickinson?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not a literature student.” Damian tried to sound nonchalant, as if he didn’t really care, but mentally he was kicking himself. Honestly, he couldn’t remember what she said she was working on, because every time she started talking about it, her eyes lit up and she got this excited almost dreamy expression on her face, and Damian got lost in her. She was easy to get lost in. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked over at her, forcing his expression to remain neutral. “You’re applying to grad school, right?” 

“Yeah, actually.” She looked surprised that he remembered, and fidgeting with the strap on her purse, as if suddenly nervous. “I submitted my application last week. But, I have a few more weeks before I find out if I got into the program.” 

“You know you’ll get in.” Damian stared up at a red light, refusing to look at her. If he did, he knew he’d forget everything he was supposed to say to her. How in the world could she break him like this? “I don’t know why you’re so worried. You’re the smartest, most inspired student in the whole program.”

“Was that… a compliment, Damian Wayne?” Her voice was teasing, almost playful, and it made his stomach twist. Raven shifted and stared out the windshield, a small smile playing on her lips. “We’ve been fighting each other for the better part of four years, and you actually complimented me. Well, shit. I guess I owe Conner ten bucks.” 

At the sound of Conner’s name, Damian frowned. He remembered Conner’s soft touches and soft, lopsided smiles at Raven, and Damian shifted in his seat. Maybe there was more to their relationship. “Are you two… together?”

Raven snorted. “With Conner? No.” She glanced back at him, her dark eyes searching his face. “I mean sure, he’s fun and cute, and he almost out-bid you at the auction-”

Damian gave her a flat stare. Of course she was going to bring that up.

“-but no.” She paused, as if suddenly realizing that was a very personal question. Her eyebrows knitted together and she stared at him. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, hoping he looked unaffected by her or her suspicion. “No reason. I just noticed you were a bit more chummy with him over the last few parties.” Jealousy, thick and viscous spilled into his chest, and Damian forced himself to breathe just to ignore it. “I thought maybe you two had hooked up or something.”

“Oh, god no.” Raven shook her head, color leaving her face as she forced out a bark of laughter. “Trust me. I made the mistake of dating a frat boy once. Never again will I wander down that road.” 

Damian jerked and looked over at her, surprised. “What? Who did you date?” 

“Gar. For all of six weeks during freshman year.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Do you not remember? You teased us relentlessly. I think half the reason we broke up was to get you to shut up and leave up alone.”

Memories flooded his thoughts, and Damian felt heat crawl up his neck. Ah, no. He remembered. It was definitely not one of his finer moments, but it had been before he understood what his feelings really were towards Raven. He remembered being angry and jealous, and he didn’t want to see them together, he just didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until months later that he realized he liked Raven. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.”

Raven seemed surprised by his apology, but she chose not to tease him about it. Instead, she shrugged and glanced away. “It’s fine. It never would have worked out between us anyway. That relationship was doomed from the start. Gar is still getting his life together, and I can’t wait for that. I don’t want to wait for that.” She paused as if realizing something, and looked back at Damian. “Why did you join the frat in the first place? I mean, you’re a legacy student, rich as all get out, and could have rented a swank apartment just off campus. You don’t need to join a fraternity.” 

Damian shrugged. “Father belonged to the same one when he was in college, and he thought it would be good for business connections and my… social skills.” He rolled his eyes. 

Raven laughed. “Social skills. Ah. So you’ve always had this stick up your ass? Good to know it’s not a recent development.” 

Damian glanced over at her and tried to glare, but her smile melted whatever annoyance filled him. He blinked and looked away, turning down a side street towards the animal shelter. He swallowed and felt the confession bubble up before he could stop it. “I’m going to grad school too.” 

Raven hummed, but the sound was playful. “Are you telling me I have at least three more years of you? Three more years of you harping on my reading choices?” 

“At least.” He smirked. “I’ll make sure to bother you whenever I get the chance.” 

“Are you going to stay in the frat house?”

“Probably not. I’m getting a little too old for that. The freshmen parties keep me up way too late.” 

“Careful, Dami. Otherwise I’m going to start thinking you’re an old man.” 

He gave her a flat stare, but tried not to crow at the playful nickname she offered. “What about you? Are you staying with Karen and Donna?”

“No.” Raven shook her head. “Karen is taking an internship in San Francisco, and Donna is going to Europe to work with her family’s company.” A pensive, sad expression filled her face. “If I get accepted, I’ll have to find somewhere to live before I start.”

The offer fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. “You could stay with me.” 

Oh god. No. Panic filled his chest and tried to think of a way to make it a joke, but nothing came to mind. Instead he sat there and watched as several expressions of confusion colored Raven’s face. 

Raven snorted. “As what? Your maid?”

“No.” Why did his mouth insist on talking? He couldn’t stop talking, and he needed to right now. “I mean… as roommates. I have the money and the space is easy to find. You need somewhere to stay. You’re clean and quiet, and you’d stay out of my business.” Damian finally breathed. Safe. “You’d be the perfect roommate. Like having a cat you never see.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Gee, when you put it like that, how can I refuse? Be still my beating heart.” 

He shrugged. “The offer stands. If you can’t find a place before fall, let me know.” 

Raven laughed. “You know. I’ll do it. I’ll be your roommate just to annoy you.” She smirked and looked over at him, finally tucking that stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Put flavored creamer in my coffee every morning.”

“How many times do I have to say that you don’t sully good coffee with cheap creamer?” He seethed and pulled into the parking lot, shoving the car into park. “It’s a waste of good coffee.” 

She laughed again and unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’ll make sure I have every single flavor in the fridge. Even down to the disgusting seasonal flavors. Pumpkin Spice. Egg Nog. Mint Chocolate.” 

“That’s it.” Damian flung open his car door and stepped out, glaring at her over the roof of his car. “The offer has been officially revoked. You are no longer allowed to be my roommate.” 

Raven laughed and followed him into the animal shelter, her steps uneven. Damian glanced down at her and realized her clothes didn’t fit quite right. Which meant she was probably wearing Donna’s shoes as well as Donna’s dress. His heart did something weird in his chest, and he realized that Raven had dressed up for him. Something like excitement and pride mixed together, and he found himself wanting to kiss her. Of course, he always wanted to kiss her, but right now… he was ready to throw caution to the wind and make out with her right on the animal shelter steps. 

“Kittens.” 

Her voice was soft and strained, as if she was trying to contain her excitement, and it pulled Damian deeper into his internal struggle to not fall in love with her any more. He glanced up to see Raven taking a shy step forward, looking through the window at the kitten and cat room. They lounged on trees and in beds, watching her with a curious expression. For a moment, he stood there and let this memory burn in his head. Raven’s eyes were wide and bright, and a soft smile played on her lips. She looked… cute. Too cute. His heart twisted even more in his chest and he guided her to the front door. 

He smirked and held open the door for her. “You can pet them, you know.”

Raven glanced up at him, and Damian was pretty sure his insides were now permanently mush. She looked so eager, and he wanted to get her whatever she wanted just to keep that expression on her face. 

“It’s gonna take me a bit to get the paperwork completed for the donation.” He was trying not to look completely and utterly enamored with her, but knew he was probably failing. “Go play with the cats.” 

Her eyes widened for a moment, before her face fell back into a stern expression, poking him in the chest. “This stays between us.”

“That you turn into a small child at the sight of a kitten?” He forced a sarcastic smile. “You think I’m not going to take a picture of you and put it all over the internet.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t know that. “I can see the headline now: Resident Hardass, Raven Roth, Actually has a Soft Side.”

Before he could blink, Raven reached into his pants pocket and yanked out his cell phone, holding it up in front of his face. “I’ll keep this until we leave. Consider it collateral.” Sticking out her tongue at him, she shoved his phone into her bra and out of his reach, before turning around and heading to play with the cats.

“Your girlfriend is cute.” 

Damian turned and looked at the office worker who had come out to meet him, and he didn’t bother correcting the assumption. Raven was cute, and he desperately wanted her as his girlfriend.

He finished up with the donation, writing out the check and posing for a few promotional photos with workers from the animal shelter. But his thoughts were thirty feet away, with Raven as she moved around the room, playing with cats. Damian stood there for a few minutes and watched her, all spread out on the floor, cats and kittens crawling over her and making her light up and smile so damned bright. Damian stared at her, his heart so heavy and so full that breathing hurt. He didn’t understand how he could protect his heart anymore. 

He was irrevocably in love with her, and it was only going to hurt him to keep denying it. 

Raven looked up and saw him standing there. She picked up a kitten that had been crawling up her back, and set it on the floor before stepping out of the room to meet him. She was covered in cat fur, and that somehow only made her cuter. He was so damn gone for her. 

“You’re a mess.” He said, shaking his head with a laugh. “And you desperately need a lint roller.”

Damian went and borrowed one from the front desk clerk, taking time to roll off the back of her dress and her skirt. The whole act felt strangely intimate, but Raven didn’t seem to mind. Instead she was laughing, twisting away when he found a ticklish spot near her side. Forgetting who he was, Damian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to him, running the lint roller over her stomach and letting himself bathe in her joy. She felt like liquid sunshine in his arms, happy and honest, and so unlike the usual studious hardass she was. His world was shifting even more, and Raven was standing in the center like a beacon. 

“Careful, Dami.” Her voice was soft and breathy from laughter, and she smelled of lavender and vanilla. God. He could feel her heat spilling through his clothes and warming him in the best way possible. She turned in his arms and plucked the lint roller from his hand, tilting her face up to meet his own. Her lips shifted to the side, and she poked a finger in his chest. “People might get the wrong idea about us.” 

His mind was filled with one thought: Let them. 

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 9

I.IX

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song(s): "Fool's Gold" by One Direction

"Katie," Your heart is still racing from the kiss and the surprise of your friend coming up behind you. "I thought you said you were going to shower and go to bed." It’s a stupid comment. Obviously, she didn’t just go straight to bed.

"What is Professor Hotchner doing outside of our apartment?" Katie crosses her arms across her chest, "No actually, more importantly, what is Professor Hotchner doing kissing you?"

"What?" Just like that, your IQ falls about 80 points. Play dumb. That’s definitely the best choice in this situation.

"Y/N… please tell me you are not seeing our professor." Katie brings a hand up to hold her temples.

"Okay, I’m not seeing our professor," You attempt to push past her and she shoots a hand out to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stand in front of her. You hope your long drawn-out sigh is enough to warn her that you’re really not in the mood for a scolding or beratement or even to chat right now. It’s been a long week. "Please Katie just…"

"Just what? Let it go? Pretend I didn’t see it?" Katie’s eyes search your face but you roll your eyes, "No, we’re talking about this."

"I’m exhausted and I want to sleep," You groan, cursing the fact that your drunken buzz is quickly fading, "This doesn’t have to be a big thing."

"It’s already a big thing." She argues. You open your mouth to protest, to fight her off, but if you know anything about Katie, it’s that when she’s dead set on something, there’s no excuse, no possible escape. So you let out a sigh and move away from her to lean against the kitchen island, a small distance away from her. Where do you begin? How do you explain it all to her?

"How long has this been going on?" Katie’s body language loosens up and she pulls the towel from around her neck, drying her hair lightly as she looks over at you.

So you tell her. You tell her everything. Well, not every single detail of the sex, but you tell her how many times you’ve seen him, you tell her about the late night booty call, you tell her about the kiss with Charlie, you tell her about the weekend at his apartment. You tell her about blowing him off all week. You don’t tell her about him walking you home, you don’t tell her about the conversation the two of you just had outside your building. You leave out the fights with him. You leave out the way he kicked you on your ass this past weekend.

Katie shakes her head, and the words that you already know are coming fall from her lips, "Y/n, you can’t… you cannot keep seeing him."

Your eyes look away from her piercing, searching gaze. Deep down, you know she’s right. This isn’t a relationship and it’s not just a fling anymore. The way you felt all week being separated from him? It made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t focus on anything, your mind always wandering back to him. Not just wandering back to the sex, but to his voice, his hands, his eyes, his laugh, his smile. The way his brows furrow deeply when he’s reading. That damned hand thing he does. The way he subtly bites at the corner of his lips when concentrating. "I really… I really like spending time with him. He understands me, you know?"

"I know it might feel that way but at the end of the day he’s using you." She argues, "It’s not right. He’s using the power he has over you as a professor to get you in bed."

You don’t come with anything to say back so Katie keeps going, "If you guys get caught… he could lose his job. Your reputation will be ruined. All that you’ve worked hard for, all this work to establish a name for yourself…"

"Don’t you think I fucking realize all that?" Your frustration and exhaustion bubble up into anger. You’re not a child, and right now Katie is lecturing you like one. "It’s not just sex anymore," You bite back, "It’s companionship. He listens to me. He indulges my mind. We enjoy each other's company. And he doesn’t treat me like a child, unlike you and all of our other friends." The last part isn’t really true. Katie, for the most part, treats you with just as much respect as anyone else her age. The rest of your friends baby you. It’s evident in their behavior, the way they tease you and laugh at you. The nicknames, ‘kid genius’ or just ‘kid.’

You’re tired of being treated like a child. You’re plenty capable of making your own decisions. This thing with Hotch, it feels like the first fully independent decision you’ve made. It’s not what your parents expect from you, it’s not what your friends want from you, it’s entirely what you want. And that complete freedom of choice? It feels fantastic.

"Oh my god." Katie’s voice has fallen to hush. Her hand comes to her mouth, covering it slightly.

You stutter out a quick apology, "I’m sorry, Katie that’s not what I meant…"

"Oh my god," She repeats, taking a few steps closer to you, "Oh my god. You’re… falling for him."

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the small smile threatening to ruin your angry, frustrated facade. "No," You look up into her kind eyes, "Maybe. I don’t know."

"Oh, Einstein," She chuckles sadly. You can sense she feels bad for you. She pities you, like you’re some sad lovesick child, chasing after some unattainable ideal love that will never be requited, but she didn’t hear what Hotch said outside. She didn’t see the way the two of you looked at each other at the front door. She didn’t hear how soft his voice got when he apologized. He wouldn’t act this way if he didn’t care for you. You’re all I need.

He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t. That would be… cruel of him, to play with you like that. And as much as he’s mistreated you, you know he’s not capable of such disrespect and manipulation.

"You know I’m always in your corner." Katie leans against the counter next to you.

"Then why do you make me feel like a teenager who snuck out past curfew?" You try to crack a joke, lighten the mood, pull yourself out of your own thoughts.

"I’m not angry with you." She rubs your shoulder comfortingly.

"It sure feels that way," You scoff and look down, picking at your nail beds.

"If anything I’m angry with him," She almost laughs, reaching for your hand, preventing you from tearing at the skin any longer. She wraps her hand around yours supportively, "He’s your superior and it’s wrong to use you like this," You shoot her a glare and she sighs, "If he’s using you."

"I don’t know what to think, Katie," You feel that pit in your stomach that makes you queasy, "Whenever I’m with him I feel like the most important woman in the entire world. I make him laugh. How could anyone possibly fake all of that?"

"Maybe he’s not," She wraps her other arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to rest your head on her shoulder, "You’re so beautiful, inside and out, Y/N… it’s practically impossible for him to avoid falling for you too."

Her words give a small boost of happiness. It’s amazing to know she’s always on your side, but the doubts you have about Hotch don’t seem to be disappearing. He’s never made any real commitment to you. He barely shows any sense of care for you besides when you blow him off. But again, you decide that it all feels too authentic to be manipulation. He’s too enchanted by you, and you, with him. What you feel for him is real. He must feel the same… he has to.

————

You knock lightly on Hotch’s office door, but receive no response. You glance around the hallways to make sure that no student or professor sees you entering his office. It would be quite hard to explain why Hotch would let you go into his office if he wasn’t there. You push open the door, surprised to see Hotch hunched over at his desk, writing furiously with one hand, the other hand holding his forehead.

Your entrance into the office doesn’t even seem to draw his attention. "Aaron?" You call. He looks up at you and you can see his eyebrows plastered into that signature frown of his. "Sorry I didn’t mean to barge in. I can go if you-"

"No come in," He waves you in and turns his attention back down to his work.

"Are you okay?" You ask tentatively. You sit in the chair directly across from his desk, placing your bag on the floor and cozying up a little. You feel comfortable in his office. It’s always warm and the room smells like him. You’ve run your eyes over the hundreds of books on the walls, reading the spines, memorizing every single title that he has in his collection, making mental notes of ones that are missing that you think would pad out his collection properly.

"I just… my third-year ethical issues students are all struggling quite a bit and it’s a difficult class I’ll admit but I can’t help but feel like…" He sighs and shakes his head. "Like it’s due to my failings as a professor and mentor."

You find yourself at a loss for words. You can tell he’s stressed. His hand is tangled in his hair and it’s all messed up and fluffy. His grip on the pen is tight, his knuckles practically going white as he writes notes rapidly. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable… so normal and human. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I’m just trying to restructure the lectures and the curriculum. I’ve lightened the workload because I know all of them are scrounging for internships and job opportunities or are already juggling an internship but they’re just not getting it." He drops his pen, which causes a little bit of ink to spray out from the fountain pen nib and onto his notes. He holds his head in his hands, covering his entire face with his palms before rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up.

You bite your lip and put your things down, standing up to walk around and sit against the edge of the desk to the right of him. "Can I take a look?" You hold out your hand.

"How could you help me with this?" He looks up from his hands at you.

"Well, seeing as I am a student, I can probably help figure out what is and isn’t working for them, which weeks you’re assigning too much work for them to actually get done." You smirk and he leans back in his chair. There’s a small moment before a smile starts to spread across his face.

He places a warm hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. It’s not an inherently sexual gesture, it’s comfortable. He leaves his hand there, thumb tracing circles on your thigh absentmindedly, "I don’t think you’re a good judge of the average student. There’s no such thing as too much work to get done for you."

You roll your eyes, "Aaron will you stop being so stubborn and just hand me the damn syllabus." You stick out your hand and he reluctantly sits up, handing over the sheet scribbled with his notes. "You’re lucky I’ve learned to decode your horrendous handwriting."

"It’s not that awful." He mutters under his breath and leans forward to look over the sheet while it’s in your hands.

"I don’t even know what that says," You point to an especially atrocious line, "Seriously, Aaron, are you trying to make it harder for your students on purpose?"

"You seem to do okay," He teases, giving your thigh a light squeeze.

You chuckle, reaching across him for a pen, making marks all over the pages."Yeah well I work about three times as much as anyone else here."

"What are you doing?"Hotch leans further forward to get a better look at what you’re writing but you lean away from him so you can work on it uninterrupted, "Wait, you can’t just cross that out they need to—" He reaches out a hand, ready to snatch the syllabus from your clutches. You hold your arm fully extended out away from him, like you’re keeping a toy from a little child before placing a soft quick kiss on his lips.

"Now stop arguing and let me work," You smirk and pull away. Despite cutting him off, a small grin remains on his face. You sit there for a few minutes longer, crossing off items on the syllabus, rearranging the schedule, and writing down suggestions. Hotch resigns himself to the fact that you will not be relinquishing your hold on the paper until you’ve made it exactly perfect. He knows you too well, you won’t stop until you think you’ve nailed it.

After a few minutes, you hand the paper back to him, thoroughly satisfied with all the changes you’ve made. He takes it from you, eyes scanning through the notes, flipping through the pages at a steady pace, "Hm," He lets out a small hum and you lean forward, attempting to spot which line he’s reading, "These are… really good changes." He nods and turns to look up at you, your face much closer now that you’ve leaned into him.

"Really?" Your heart flutters as his eyes flit down to your lips and back to your eyes, "I mean… of course they are," You tease, putting on a fake air of arrogance, but deep down you’re heart swells with pride that he’s impressed by your help.

He runs a hand along your jaw, hand wrapping around your throat, but it’s not tight or dominant like usual. His fingers are light on your skin and he just pulls you enough to bring your lips to his for a slow, sensual kiss. Your eyes flutter shut and you run your fingers up to knot in his hair, tugging on the roots. You’re the first to pull away from the kiss, "Now get back to work." You point down at the stack of essays on his desk.

"But it’s Wednesday," He's practically pouting up at you, "I set aside this time to be with you." His hand travels back a little, cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek, his fingers at the base of your neck.

"You obviously have a lot to get done. Don’t worry about it," You give a reassuring nod and get up, digging around in your bag to take out a book. You hold it up, "I have ways to entertain myself."

"You can come back later in the afternoon once I’m done all of this," He starts but you hold up your hand to stop him, settling back onto the edge of his desk.

"Get your work done. I don’t mind just sitting here with you," You give a warm smile before opening your novel and diving right in. He takes that as a sign that it’s okay to go ahead and continue working, and you both seem to fall into a rhythm, the only sound coming from the occasional creak and groan of the heater working overtime to combat the cold wintery weather outside.

He rests his right hand on your thigh again, every once in a while giving it a small squeeze, while his fingers trail over your skin. He uses his other hand to continue grading papers. It’s a comforting position. You sit there, fully focused on the book in your hand, but enjoy the comfort of his warm hands on your skin.

You both sit there in silence for nearly half an hour before you come to the end of your book closing it with a small sigh. You glance at the walls of titles and stand up from the desk, drawing Hotch’s attention away from his work. You hold your book close to your chest, slowly strolling past the shelves and shelves of books.

"Take any one you want." He gestures with his head in the direction of the shelves.

"Really?" You’re giddy with excitement, just itching to take the first 10 titles down and dive into reading them. You step closer, taking a moment to read every single spine and cover carefully.

"Mhm," Hotch mumbles under his breath, attempting to look at his work but his eyes are stuck on you as you slowly drift from shelf to shelf, eyes wide, trying to take in every single title.

"You know my birthday is next Friday," You hum softly and run your fingers over the spines of the books on the shelf. You turn and lean back against them, wagging your eyebrows playfully at him, "What are you going to get me?"

"I-" Hotch seems at a loss for words, his smile faltering slightly, "I’m not really great at giving gifts. I don’t ever feel like I know the person well enough to give them a meaningful gift."

"I’m teasing you," You laugh at his slight stuttering and discomfort, "I’m not the type to make a big fuss about my birthday."

"It’s your 21st. That’s a big deal," He nods, eliciting a small scoff and roll of your eyes.

You turn back around and pull a book from the shelf, turning through the pages quickly, "Is it? I mean I’ve always thought of age as something so irrelevant." You put the book up onto the shelf. Your eyes travel up to the higher shelves. The books higher up are probably some of the ones he doesn’t reach for as often, but you find yourself spotting some of your favorites up on the higher shelf. You stand up on your toes, reaching for his copy of Dracula.

"Why’s that?" He stands up from his chair and comes up behind you, reaching up over your shoulder to grab the book and hand it to you. You look over your shoulder at him with a small smile.

"I just don’t think age is necessarily a marker of any sense of intelligence, maturity, sophistication, experience," You walk around the office as you read through the pages, ignoring the written words, focusing all your energy on understanding his annotations. The pages are littered with highlights and notes on every free space on the page. The grin on your face grows more as you read it.

"Sorry, I forget you’re such a kid genius sometimes," Hotch teases you playfully.

You barely hear what he’s saying, taking a moment to absorb the thoughts present in the margins of the novel, "You really don’t like this book, huh?" You close it shut in one hand and look over at him. "You missed some of the most important parts."

"Oh did I?" He chuckles and leans against the shelves, crossing his arms.

"Yes! You missed the complexities of the point of view changes and the greater metaphors for sexuliaty and female sexual prowess." You protest angrily. Your love for literature is coming out at this moment and his smug, arrogant smirk, that you know so well, demonstrates he’s not going to be receptive to your opinion and will continue to believe his ideas are correct.

"I understand those arguments and see their evidence in the literature but it’s taking such a modern view of a Victorian novel. That’s not what the implications are to the Victorian reader o in the historical context of the book," He shrugs, "It’s such a reach."

"But isn’t that the only way to enjoy literature? That’s the only way a work can be timeless. Can you take into a modern context and still enjoy it while deriving some greater conclusions about the world around you?" You tut at him disapprovingly, "Yeah, I'm not taking literature advice from someone who doesn’t even own a copy of The Great Gatsby."

"Classics are overrated." His words are like a knife to your heart. Your jaw falls slack with shock and you can sense him resisting the urge to make a dirty joke.

You shake your head firmly,"First of all, some classics are overrated, but some are worthy of the title of classic. Second, The Great Gatsby is my favorite novel of all time so I will simply not tolerate any criticism. I cannot believe you don’t have it."

"I never understood the infatuation. The writing seems so… simplistic, the imagery is predictable and cliched."

You whirl around to look at him, placing a hand over your chest, feigning hurt feelings, "First of all, I am now taking this as a personal attack," He chuckles and shakes his head at your dramatics, "And the simplistic writing is what makes it so amazing. It seems so simple on the surface, and you can take the cliched, surface level metaphors and imagery and derive some bored, tired conclusions about Fitzgerald’s opinion of the American Dream. But there's so much more!" You shake your head, struggling to reach to put the book back up on the shelf.

"Okay, okay," He walks around to take the book from your hands placing it back in its rightful position, "I get it. My literature analyses are not good enough for you."

As he turns his attention back to you, you maintain his eye contact giving him a small shrug of your shoulders,"If you spend all your energy attempting to divide everything into strict categories or make stark divisions. You miss the important subtleties of the world around you." His brows furrow as he attempts to understand your point.

"I just think your law background has forced you into taking on a black and white mindset." You continue, "But the beauty in life is in the grays." He pauses for a second, letting the smile grow wider on his face. He leans forward, again connecting his lips with yours. His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, pressing your soft warm body against his. You glance at the time, knowing that you’re going to be late for your next class, but you continue to kiss Hotch. You don’t want this moment to end.

Everything feels so perfect. You’re so happy, so content. But nothing this good can last forever.

Chapter 10: I.X →

[atc74]

It’s Been Awhile

Warnings: Angst, breakup, unresolved conflict, slight fluff, 

Summary: The reader leaves to follow her dreams, but it leaves them both with regrets.

Pairing: Rockstar!Jensen x Reader AU

Word Count: 1931

Written for: @waywardbeanie

Beta’d by: @flamencodiva, thank you! 

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything, so I opened requests to a few select people and found some inspiration.Inspired by the prompt in bold, and the song “It’s Been Awhile” by Staind. I hope y’all enjoy it. Feedback is the fuel that keeps me running! 

For the full fan expericene, check out Jensen’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker​!

Y/N and Jensen had been best friends growing up in the suburbs of Dallas. She wanted to be an architect  and he wanted to go into sports medicine. They spent all their free time together, and sang in the church choir on Sundays. Thick as thieves, people would say about the two of them whenever they were together. Jensen was her first friend, her first boyfriend, her first...everything. 

They started college together at the University of Texas, and with the exception of their location, nothing changed. They remained in their own bubble which Jensen nerdly referred to as the Fortress of Solitude. The one place he could be himself, let his guard down, and figure out who he really was. He could do all that with Y/N, or because of her, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was even a difference anymore. 

Their friendship, along with their love, was carefree, and wild. The day road trips turned into weekend escapes where they lost themselves in each other the open plains of their home state. Jensen would bring his guitar everywhere and each day provided new opportunities to be inspired by the landscape and her. When Jensen was with Y/N, he wanted for nothing. From road trips, to study sessions, to candle light frozen dinners. She was all he ever needed.

Just like time, life could stand still, then change in the blink of an eye. Y/N was offered a coveted two year internship. They stayed together, but long distance was hard, long distance relationships were harder. It wasn’t long before daily calls became weekly texts, until they dwindled off completely. Jensen convinced himself if she had wanted him, truly wanted him, she would have stayed to build a life with him. 

Jensen spent most of his time in bars, masking his pain with booze and open mike nights at the college bars. He built walls around him in her absence, and only let himself think about her when he sang the songs she inspired. Despite the haze of alcohol in his system, he never felt more at peace or sober than when he sang of her. 

After she left to pursue her dreams, he never expected to amount to much with Y/N to push him to pursue his own. A writing and recording contract was the last thing he thought he wanted, but maybe, just maybe he thought, this was his chance to get her out of his system by changing direction and abandoning all their plans. She did it when she left him, why couldn’t he?

A string of failed relationships plagued them both as they tried to move on, never finding a suitable match. Flawless memories of a first love set unreachable standards and no one, no matter their intentions, would never measure up. Booze, one night stands, and other methods of self sabotage, were the cornerstones of the walls Y/N and Jensen had constructed.

With each report of Jensen’s success, her walls fortified, terrified to let anything, or anyone in. She stayed away from social media and shut down anyone who dared mention his name to her. 

In every city, state, and country he visited, Jensen could sense her. Her essence surrounded him everywhere he went. The beauty of the landscape, the laughter, it all brought him back to her. It didn’t matter what, or who, he did to block out the memories, she was there. 

His guitar nestled under the crook of his arm was where he truly felt at home, at peace, with her memories flooding his senses. All his transgressions, his mistakes, all that shit disappeared when he escaped into the music with her. He took pen to paper and confessed his regrets to the ghost of her memory. 

Y/N found herself back in Dallas unexpectedly when her grandfather passed away. She hadn’t been home in so long, following her dreams and improving housing around the world. It didn’t escape her attention when the mother tossed the morning paper in front of her, Jensen staring back at her in black and white, from the front page of the entertainment section. She didn’t believe in destiny, she made her own future, but she couldn't help but think this was her grandfather sending her a glaringly obvious sign from beyond the grave. Jensen was performing an acoustic show at the local theater the following night. 

“Grandpa left this for you, baby,” her mother placed an envelope on top of the paper, hiding Jensen’s profile from her view. She carefully opened the crisp white linen envelope seeing her Grandfather’s neat block printing. 

Enclosed with the note was a ticket to Jensen’s show and a backstage pass. She knew better than to question, her grandfather always did work in mysterious ways, and he had never let her down. She wasn’t about to let him down now, despite her trepidation over seeing the love of her life again, she owed it to her grandfather to follow his dying wish. 

Jensen had requested darkness for his final song. He sat alone on the stage, surrounded only by a dozen candles, silhouetting him against the dark curtain behind him. He couldn’t see the faces of the people who had paid to see him, but he wasn’t there for them. He was there for her, and her alone, even if she wasn’t in the building, he was always there in his heart. 

It's been awhile

Since I couldn't

Hold my head up high

And it's been awhile

Since I first saw you

And it's been awhile

Since I could stand

On my own two feet again

And it's been awhile

Since I could call you

And everything I can't remember

As fucked up as it all may seem

The consequences that are rendered

I stretch myself beyond my means

Time is a funny thing when you think about it. Days past slowly, while the year flies and in the blink of an eye, a decade has gone by and all Y/N can think of is how did she let it go this far? How did she let him get this far from her. 

As she silently watched Jensen perform, tears streaming down her face, she couldn’t help but think, this wasn’t the man she remembered; this man was broken. And she blamed herself. If she hadn’t left, if she hadn’t put her dreams in front of their own, would he still be broken? Would she? She was responsible for both of them, for their regrets were driven by her actions. Despite the time that had passed, he still knew how to each nerve with her, all the while blaming himself, just like she blamed herself. 

And it's been awhile

Since I could say

That I wasn't addicted

It's been awhile

Since I could say

I loved myself as well

And it's been awhile

Since I've gone and

Fucked things up

Just like I always do

And it's been awhile

But all that shit

Seems to disappear

When I'm with you

Her heart jumped in her chest, lodging itself in her throat and making it hard to breathe. Could he be singing about her? The possibility that he could still love her after all this time brought fresh tears to her eyes. She knew how she felt for him, although she denied her emotions on a daily basis, but if there was a minute chance, she knew she had to go for it. 

And everything I can remember

As fucked up as it all may seem

The consequences that I have rendered

Have gone and fucked things up again

 Why must I feel this way?

Just make this go away

Just one more peaceful day

 It's been awhile

Since I couldn't

Look at myself straight

And it's been awhile

Since I said, "I'm sorry"

And it's been awhile

Since I've seen the way

The candles light your face

And it's been awhile

But I can still remember

Just the way you taste

And everything I can remember

As fucked up 

As it all may seem to be

I know it's me

I cannot blame this on my father

He did the best he could for me

It's been awhile

Since I could

Hold my head up high

And it's been awhile

Since I said, "I'm sorry"

“Thank you.” Jensen murmured two short words before exiting the stage. He pushed through the throngs of people waiting for him backstage, needing the quiet solace of his dressing room before the short meet and greet. He needed a few moments to pull himself together, to collect his thoughts. 

He had never performed that song in front of anyone before tonight. Not a soul on earth had heard that song, not even his band. He was overwhelmed with the emotion it pulled from him, even if he had written it. He wanted nothing more than to be able to play that for her, to express everything he felt, but couldn’t tell her for the last ten years. 

He entered the meet and greet room after he felt calm enough to leave his dressing room. He silently thanked his manager and the venue for keeping the affair small, only allowing ten people in that night, he knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand more.

Jensen thanked everyone for coming as he scanned the small room. His heart slammed into his chest wall as his eyes locked on a face he thought he’d never see again. She looked every bit as beautiful as she had the last time he had seen her. He had to hold the bottle of water with two hands to keep from reaching for her. He had never felt time pass like it did when he was with her, even surrounded by other people. When his manager signaled the end, he breathed a sigh of relief, laced with regret. What if she left and he never saw her again? What if she stayed and wanted to speak to him? Sifting the emotions from the logic, he exchanged a few words with his manager before fleeing the room to his own space. 

A soft knock at the door brought him back to the present and he calmly answered with his back to the door. “Come in.”

He caught her eyes in the mirror of his dressing room, tear tracks fresh on her flawless skin. He spun around before she could vanish. “I didn’t think you’d come.” 

“I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“There’s always a choice.” 

“Not this time.” 

“I never thought I would see you again, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

“Following my compass.”

“I won’t pretend to know what that means, but I’m going to assume it has something to do with your grandfather. I’m sorry for your loss, he was an incredible man,” Jensen offered. 

“Yes, it does, and yes he was. He always liked you and told me I was an imbecile for leaving you the way I did, for not fighting for you, for us,” Y/N admitted. “That song…?”

“Are you asking if it has meaning? If it’s about you?” 

Y/N took a tentative step forward, lessing the gap between them, the atmosphere in the room shifting. “Yes.” 

“Yes. All of them are. You were always my inspiration, my muse,” Jensen confessed, inching closer to her. 

“I’m sorry, Jensen,” Y/N sniffed. 

“For what?” 

“For leaving. For losing my compass.” 

“You’re here now.” 

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​  @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​  @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​  @emoryhemsworth​  @fangirlxwritesx67​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo​  @winchest09​​

The Dean’s List/Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​

[softsillytwsted]

The Sleep of Blue Roses

I had this thought in my head of a what if story about an Ace betrayal and couldn’t stop myself from writing this until it was done. This is honestly not what I usually write because it’s kinda dark, but hey - it fits October doesn’t it?

Warnings: implied character death, implied domestic abuse, angst, the slow crawl of helplessness

Somewhere between now and back when you were still here, Deuce never understood limits. How can he? You were magicless, but you selflessly faced those impossibly stronger than you and succeeded. Deuce felt that nothing was out of reach when he was with you, with Ace, with Grim, Jack, Epel, Sebek...

When did things go wrong?

After weeks of strategizing a way to rescue Grim, who’s habit of eating everyone’s negative energy finally caused him to overblot, the gray monster was finally back to normal. Looking back, Deuce could only see how reckless and impossible the task was. They were up against a monster that had the combined magic and unique magic of the 7 strongest students from an academy of elites. The situation that promised death loomed over everyone, yet with you there, no one had any doubts they would fail. Not Riddle, not Leona, not Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, nor Malleus. And the impossible was made possible.

And you left this world thinking the impossible can be made possible.

“I arrived in Twisted Wonderland right after my mom contacted me,” you admitted shyly. “I haven’t talked to her since I was a kid because my dad always told me to stay away from her but... I really want to see her again.”

You were in front of the mirror, bags packed and your friends surrounding you. You can finally return back home and with a piece of the Dark Mirror in your hands you can communicate with them whenever you desired.

Deuce beamed at you, “It’ll go great, I know it will! My mother is always kind to me and she wanted what was best for me. I’m sure yours will be the same too!”

Ace hugged you before you left. “It’s seriously going to get so boring without you around. You better contact us or I’ll go over there and kick your ass.” Jokes aside, you and Deuce could tell by the glint in Ace’s eyes that he meant every word. You smiled at him then, because despite knowing each other for a year, the three of you shared an inseparable bond.

“I promise.”

You left them.

Days passed, then weeks, with no word from you. After one month, Ace angrily stormed into the Mirror Chamber and demanded to go see you.

“They do not exist.”

“Of course they don’t fucking exist, they’re in another world- now lead me to them!”

“They do not exist in this world or in any other world.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that!? They were here just a month ago!” Ace lunged at the mirror. His fists futilely pounded on its glassy surface before he tried to shake the mirror out of its placeholder. Deuce had to restrain the wildly thrashing Ace before the ginger stilled in his arms- lifeless. “Whatever, I’m over it.” He took a deep breath and walked away, ignoring Deuce’s and Grim’s cries after him.

If Deuce took better notice of the chill that followed Ace’s steps, maybe things would’ve been different. Instead, he visited the Mirror Chamber until a year passed and he too gave up- only visiting again on occasion, whereas Grim still stops by everyday.

Ace’s friendship with Deuce and Grim were strained at best. The ginger acted the same, but something was different. Like a cherished photo misplaced. Deuce didn’t question when Ace started hanging out with Kalim and Jamil more and Deuce and the other first years less. Nor did he stop to think about why Ace volunteered to do errands for Azul and Crowley. He even looked away when he saw Ace chatting it up with the two princes of the school.

They graduated like this without mentioning the name Y/n.

***

“AAH! Oh no are you alright?” Deuce yelled after you when you somersaulted from a heavy onslaught of his color-changing magic. “I’m so sorry!”

You could only giggle at your current state. Ace warned you not to get close to Deuce while he was changing the colors of the roses, but you assumed being behind Deuce would be safe. You were now paying for your mistakes. “Don’t worry about it Deuce,” you paused. The smile you flashed him revealed a weariness he couldn’t comprehend. “It was my fault too.”

***

Two years later, Deuce finally passed his test to become part of Rose Kingdom’s Elite Division. Right after orientation, he was pleasantly surprised by a visit from Ace who threw an arm over the bluenette’s shoulders and cheekily grinned at him like the two never grew apart. For a long moment, Deuce believed they never did as the two went to a bar to celebrate and catch up. Deuce breezed through all the sleepless nights he spent studying and training; Ace regaled his continuation of his internship. 

“They loved me so much they made a new position to get me to stay!” he said. “And guess what? He said that if he becomes prime minister he’ll make me one of his advisors. Not too bad huh?”

Deuce couldn’t be happier for Ace. He always wondered what Ace, who blanched at the idea of the future, would do with his life. He admits, however, that politics was the furthest thing he would ever imagine his friend doing. “Being in the political scene can be dangerous I hear. Luckily I can assign my own bodyguards, including a certain elite policeman.”

This was news to Deuce. He was unaware of any political strife that would need the Elite Division, which specialized in magic-related crimes, to act as bodyguards... Maybe he needs to follow the news more closely. Regardless, Deuce grinned with all teeth and slammed his fist in his palm. “Just leave it to me, no way in hell I’ll let my buddy get hurt.”

“...Glad I can count on you... buddy.”

***

Deuce helped you up and tried to wipe off the paint on your uniform. You didn’t bother telling him that he was only smearing the paint into your clothes because of the look of concentration on his face telling you how hard he wanted to make this right. “Oh Deuce, you ended up painting the finished roses blue too.”

“What? Oh no...” he groaned at the extra work he’ll have to do. Will he be in time for the Unbirthday Party?

“Hey relax, I’ll help you out! We should be finished within an hour if we hurry,” you reassured him. He flashed you a grateful smile which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

***

The time between then and the election passed with a blink of an eye. Once his candidate won, Ace swaggered over to Deuce’s department with the confidence and authority that didn’t fit a 21 year-old advisor. It didn’t take long for Deuce to find himself a part of Ace’s security detail. It took an even shorter amount of time for Deuce to feel like he was slowly crawling into a waking nightmare.

Deuce tried to ignore it, tried to give Ace the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn’t excuse the things Ace did right in front of him. Dismissals of important emergency committees, deregulation of organizations with authority, increased spending on militarized weapons. The public blamed all these new policies on their new prime minister, but Deuce knew who the real mastermind was.

It didn’t take long for him to confront Ace - especially after he realized that the recent strings of overblot cases popping up across the country were a direct result of Ace’s policies.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Ace sneered. Deuce looked away; the gun in his hand hung lifelessly by his side. “You couldn’t even stop Y/n from leaving to die. You definitely won’t stop me from having my way with this country.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me that... You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Ace looked at Deuce like he was a bug beneath his shoe, but the quake in his eyes said otherwise. “You’re hereby dismissed from your post. If the next time I see you and you try to stop me, I’ll crush you.”

Ace walked away from Deuce- just like he did years ago.

“I’ve done too much to have you get in my way.” 

***

Deuce felt so lucky to have met you, despite the rocky beginning. You never hesitated to help and encourage him. Sometimes, when his vague idea of an honor student wasn’t enough to guide him, he would look to you.

He wondered if you knew how much he wanted to repay you for being you.

He wondered if he can one day be someone you would be proud to know.

He wondered... what you thought of him.

***

The familiar halls of Night Raven College felt comforting - a temporary balm to the turmoil Deuce felt lately. He had hoped to see some of his old teachers and Crowley, but the school’s headmaster was tasked to find the Magic Mirror, the legendary mirror that the Beautiful Queen used once upon a time. No doubt, this was Ace’s doing.

When Deuce reached the Mirror Chamber, he was surprised to find Grim was nowhere to be found. Deuce ignored the churning in his stomach and thought to himself that maybe he was just early. After all these years, Grim never stopped believing that you would return to them. Crowley always spoke with pity in his voice about how the little monster would visit the Dark Mirror everyday- waiting, staring.

Deuce respectfully crouched in front of the mirror - like a mourner in front of a grave. 

“Hello Y/n I’m sorry it’s been a while since my last visit,” Deuce began, he softly smiled while thinking of all the memories he had of you. “I was able to pass the qualifications to be part of the Elite Division. One of my first assignments was actually to guard Ace, can you believe that?”

He paused and tried to gulp down the lump in his throat. “Um… about Ace he… he’s made it big as a politician. He’s my friend and I was happy for him but… a part of me is scared. He’s not the same anymore after you left Y/n. Looking back, I can’t help but think how reckless and dumb we were to risk our lives against people we had no chance against. But we always made it through thanks to you.” Every single sentence, every single word came out in a rush. It was a confession to all the sins he committed letting Ace go. A realization that he could never be the man he wanted you to be proud of.

“You somehow make the impossible possible… I… I really need that right now...” He begged, “Please… I need...”

Deuce didn’t realize he was crying until the tears flowed down his cheeks and onto his clenched fists. He looked up at the Dark Mirror and activated it. “Oh Dark Mirror, show me Y/n.”

“...”

“They do not exist.”

***

“Hey Deuce,” you began as you picked up a blue rose. The two of you were almost done cleaning up the mess Deuce made and you decided now was the time to take a breather. Deuce slouched in the shade of the hedge, too tired to do anything but hum to show he was listening. “In my world, blue roses were never found naturally, so they symbolized the impossible. But after years of research, my world was able to grow one.”

You handed Deuce the rose, its petals shone brilliantly despite its withering edges. Deuce took it curiously and the two of you shared a sweet smile.

“They now symbolize miracles.”

[jalapeno-princess]

Broken-Hearted Girl

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 8.7K

Summary: After a petty argument escalates into Mark saying some things he didn’t mean, the two of you end up breaking up on your third anniversary. For the rest of the week, you find solace in your family and you learn how to live with a broken heart.

A/N: I don’t even remember how I stumbled upon this song but after listening to and falling in love with one of their other songs “Friend’s Don’t” by Maddie and Tae, I already knew I was going to like this one also. I recommend you listen to it while reading this imagine, the song really does tug on your heartstrings. I’ve been extremely busy for the last few weeks and so I wanted to put a hold on writing (even if just for a few days) but I’ve actually been staying up till the wee hours of the morning (I feel as if I might have insomnia but who knows) and I actually had a really bad mental breakdown earlier, so I needed something to help calm me down and take my mind off of my negative thoughts. Writing is my favorite escape from how cruel this world can be sometimes (although, my writing is literal shit haha) (and i really don’t care for how I ended this and I’m actually kind of unimpressed with this story) but I hope you guys enjoy it! (I have never been in a relationship before so I haven’t experienced the pain of a heartbreak (and I’m sure knowing my sensitive ass I would actually die)

Hey, mama, how do you get a red-wine stain Out of your favorite dress? Black mascara off a pillow case Cure a one-too-many headache Mama, can I come and maybe stay a few days? This weekend or next And hey, how do you get a red-wine stain Out of your favorite dress?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart?

This was not how tonight was supposed to end. Usually, anniversaries were meant to be extremely romantic. They were meant to celebrate the amount of time you’ve been in a relationship with your significant other and to relish in the love that you had for one another; yet here you were, storming out of your boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend’s truck towards your apartment with tears streaming down your face. 

You were too focused on getting inside and just collapsing to the ground that you couldn’t even remember how the night ended so terribly. Just a few hours ago, Mark picked you up with the intentions on surprising you for your third anniversary together. 

The two of you practically couldn’t even keep your eyes, let alone your hands off of each other to the point where Mark was just going to say fuck it and show you just how much he loved you and how happy he was to be able to call you the love of his life with his head between your thighs. However, things didn’t go as planned. 

In fact, you had a hard time processing that he told you he planned on spending the rest of his life with you just a few moments before the argument broke out. As soon as you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, you immediately sank to your knees and let out the most heartbreaking cry you didn’t think you were capable of. Not once in your life did you ever cry as much as you were right now. 

Sure, you’ve lost a few loved ones, failed a couple of very important tests here and there and sometimes you and Mark would watch some of the saddest movies every now and then but nothing ever hurt you as much as Mark’s last words did. 

My life would’ve been so much easier if you weren’t in it. 

Each word felt like a stab in your gut. At the time, you knew you said some things that you didn’t mean and that you were sure had a negative effect on him; but nothing you said was even half as bad as hearing him practically say he regrets your entire relationship. 

It made you overthink the last three years of being with him. Mark was in more or less words, the perfect boyfriend. He was quite the gentleman; he always held doors open for you, pushed you on the inside whenever you’d be walking on sidewalks, pulled out chairs for you, always asked how your day was going and if you were eating all your meals on time. 

He knew your coffee order by heart, he’d buy you cute little things he would see that he thought you would like and he even made you a few playlists of songs that reminded him of you. He took care of you as if you were the most delicate little dandelion; but that didn’t mean he wasn’t rough or dominant behind closed doors. 

Mark knew you like the back of his hand. Three years would do that to someone; he knew each and every mole, freckle, beauty and birthmark on your body. He was well aware of the scar on your knee that was shaped like Texas and how you got it from playing football with your cousins. If perfect was a person, it would be him. 

Everyone who knew of him wanted to be his friend. Mark was a social butterfly; he had a tendency to be friendly and kind to whoever he encountered. His golden heart, extremely kind and generous personality was got you to fall in love with him; on top of his indescribable good looks and charismatic charm. After knowing each other for over seven years, you’ve grown accustomed to having Mark in your life. 

Even before the two of you started dating, he was there for almost every milestone in your life. He was there when you got accepted in to the college of your dreams, he was there when you got an internship with a company you’ve been wanting for a long time, he was there for your first time getting drunk at the young age of 16 and he was the one to rub your back as you threw up the following morning. 

With that being said, he was also there during some of the darkest times in your life. When your grandmother passed away from cancer, it felt as if your entire world fell apart. She was your best friend and you were completely devastated as soon as your mom called you and told you the news of her passing. Mark was at baseball practice around the time that you were heading to the hospital, but once he heard of what happened, he wasted no time in making his way to where you were and pulled you in to his chest the moment his eyes landed on your frail figure. 

It took months of grieving, crying over her absence and Mark constantly whispering sweet words of comfort for you to come to terms with her death and you were entirely grateful that you had someone so patient and understanding as Mark was to be there for you during such a traumatic time. What was going to happen now when he was the reason why you were so distraught? 

Losing your grandmother was extremely painful and even after all these years, you weren’t completely over her death. However, knowing that man you loved more than life itself no longer wanted anything to do with you was a different kind of pain. Although there were a few times in your relationship that you and Mark would disagree, not once did a fight escalate this badly before. 

Your relationship was one that everyone around you seemed to envy. Everyone and their mothers knew just how much Mark loved you and it was obvious by your words and actions that you felt the exact same way. His mom always used to tell you that your love was one for the ages; you both cared for one another in ways that only people who were genuinely in love could experience. For two people who’ve been in a relationship for as long as you and Mark have, you were still in the so called “honeymoon stage” where you constantly had to be around each other even if all you did was laze around all day doing nearly nothing. 

Just being in his presence always made you feel so at ease; so serene. Home wasn’t necessarily a place you lived in or just a roof above your head. Home wasn’t just a place that gave you shelter; home was where you felt the safest, the most comfortable and home was where you were happiest. For the last seven years, Mark Tuan was your home and now, you were homeless. You always felt so protected and loved whenever you were around him and you hated every moment spent away from him. 

The more time you spent crying on the floor, the more you came to the realization that tonight’s events actually happened and Mark was no longer your person. Although neither of you actually called it quits, you knew by the tone of his voice and in his facial expression that it was over. Even if he were to come back to you within the week begging you for forgiveness, you don’t think you could ever forget how his words screwed you up mentally and physically. 

When you decided that you had cried all the tears you had in your body and that you were wasting your time crying over someone who couldn’t give less of a shit about you, you got up from your spot right in front of the door and slowly sauntered off in to the kitchen. Anyone who knew you were aware of the fact that you hated alcohol. 

You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you were sure it’s because you spent your teenage years getting high and wasted to the point where it was no longer fun to do now that it was legal. The bottle of red wine that was in the back of your cupboard was a gift from Mark’s friend Jackson for your birthday a couple of months ago and you didn’t want to seem rude by not accepting it since you didn’t care for red wine or just wine in general. 

But now, you were extremely grateful for his choice in gifts and you made it your responsibility to finish the entire bottle in one sitting before you went to sleep. That’s if you could even find it in yourself to even go to bed. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Mark and what he was doing right now; if he regretted what he said, if he knew you were currently suffering and beating yourself up about the argument. 

How could the two of you go from being seconds away to ripping each other’s clothes off, to you drinking imported red wine straight from the bottle to take your mind off of your broken heart? As you continued to drink the wine, it was in that moment of sitting on your kitchen floor and banging your head on your refrigerator that you noticed your front door had a dent in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were to go up to it and see that you broke it by how hard you slammed it out of anger, but at this point you didn’t even care. 

Your mind, your heart and your body were so numb that nothing else seemed to matter and if anything, the door represented your mental state and your relationship. Seeing as how you were the definition of a light weight, it didn’t take you long to completely knock out on the hard tile. Although that last sentence continued to replay over and over; taunting you as a painful reminder that you were living your actual nightmare, it was the fact that he gave up on you so easily as if you meant nothing to him that really killed you. 

Was he planning to breakup with you and used this argument to actually go along with it? How long ago did he decide he no longer wanted to be with you? Everything seemed to be going so good for the two of you; so when did he decide he had enough of your relationship? You weren’t surprised when you woke up the next morning with an extremely painful migraine and a crook in your neck. 

This is why you despised any type of alcohol and never understood why Mark and his friends constantly went out to bars whenever they hung out. However, you felt as if this was going to be your way to ease the pain and knowing that alone made you want to cry again. After taking a few moments to process what you were going to do for the rest of the day, you got up to take some pain killers and to look at your current state to see how much of a mess you probably were. 

Almost half an hour later, you found the strength to get up and walked to your bathroom. Your head was throbbing and your bones ached from sleeping on the floor, but nothing hurt even half as much as your heart did. As soon as you saw your reflection, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. You looked horrible. Your hair looked like a bird’s nest; tangled and all over the place. You had mascara stained on your cheeks, your eyes were puffy and if you weren’t so numb, you would’ve screamed at the wine stain in the dress you were wearing; your favorite dress to be exact. 

Mark bought you that dress a couple of months ago because he knew it would look good on you and he was right. The first time you wore it, it didn’t stay on for too long. It was your favorite dress for many reasons; not only did your boyfriend buy it for you, but as someone who was extremely insecure with her body, no matter how many times Mark would make it known how much he loved your body and thought you were the most beautiful and sexiest woman to exist, the dress made you feel beautiful. 

You wore this dress with so much confident but now, it was stained with a deep maroon color right around the chest area and it was a brief representation of the hell you were going through. Like the fool that you were, the fool who was madly in love with the person you wished you could hate right now, you checked your phone to see if he tried to get in touch with you at all and you felt your stomach sink when you saw nothing. 

No texts, no calls, no voicemails, no “I’m sorry, I made a mistake”, no “I love you” or “I miss you.” Couples went through breakups all the time so why did you feel pathetic for something you weren’t at fault for? The rest of the week felt like you were dreaming the same nightmare over and over again. You could still see the anger and rage in his eyes when he told you that you were annoying and that he wasted his night with you when he could’ve gone out with his friends. You were sure there was a chance he was with them right now and you didn’t care at all. 

If he was so quick to let you go without a care in the world, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry over him no matter how much you wanted to. But you were only human. Three years may not be considered “a long relationship” and you were still kind of young to get married and settle down but you knew Mark was the man you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with. The two of you talked about your futures on multiple occasions and every time Mark would talk about his plans, you were in each one. 

On the fifth day, you came to terms with the idea that it was really over. You tried lying to yourself by thinking that he was going to come back and that he just needed some time to calm down, but you gave up on that idea entirely knowing how Mark could be. Two things about the older boy that you could do without was his pride and how stubborn he could be. 

He tried his best not to show you those sides of him because he didn’t want you thinking negatively of him or being afraid of him; however there were occasions where he would get in to it with one of his friends because he always had to have the last word. With that being said, you knew Mark wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to initiate reconciling with you even if that’s what he wanted because that’s just who he was. 

A week away from work was what you needed to really try and get yourself together again. It wasn’t until your mom called asking how you were doing and if you and Mark wanted to stop by for dinner that you realized you weren’t okay nor were you ready to go out and put on a fake smile while pretending nothing was wrong. When your mom called you, you let her go to voicemail multiple times. 

Although your mom was your best friend and you probably needed someone to be there to comfort you during your heartbreak, you weren’t ready for pity or sympathy. The only person you needed was Jack Daniels. You hated what you had become in less than a weak and you hated that you allowed Mark to have this effect on you. It was only natural for you to be responding to your breakup in this way; you were only human. But you were now a pathetic alcoholic who was wasting her time crying over a man who was no longer in her life. 

Three shots of vodka, two beers and one shot of tequila later and you absentmindedly left a lengthy voicemail to your mom, telling her exactly what happened all the while begging her to let you stay at your parent’s house for a couple of days. Maybe even weeks. Deep down, you knew you needed to be around people no matter how much you enjoyed being alone because your mind always found away to think about Mark. 

You told her how Mark yanked out your heart and stepped on it repeatedly. You told her about getting drunk every single day for the last week, how much you hated him for what he was putting you through and how you hated that you were letting such a stupid boy control your emotions. You also asked her if your dad could come over on one of his days off to take a look at your door. She didn’t take long to respond back to you nor were you surprised when you heard her knocking on your door while she quickly pulled you in to her embrace once you opened it. 

“Oh yeah sweetheart, you really broke your poor door. Come here baby, mama’s got you.” 

She helped you bring your bags to the car and the two of you stayed in silence the entire ride to your parent’s house. You had a feeling she had a few questions she wanted to ask you and that there was a couple of things she wanted to say but you were glad that the only noise in her car was the sound of the air conditioner. You weren’t ready for any kind of human interaction or a conversation you knew would drive you even more crazy. 

All you wanted was for your mom to rock you back and forth like how she used to when you were younger and tell you that everything was going to be okay even if you lost all hope on it being so. When she pulled up to the garage, she told you to stay put so that she could help you get out of your car and you felt like such a child. Out of all your siblings, you were the closest one to your mom and even if you were an adult living on your own with a full time job and everything, you were always going to be her little girl. 

Seeing your child cry was always painful for a mother, but because the reason behind your sadness was something out of her control, she felt like she couldn’t do anything but console you and get you whatever you needed to try and make you feel better. Once you made it inside of the house, she led you to your old bedroom and let you get settled in so that she could prepare you something to eat. You didn’t have the heart to tell her you weren’t all that hungry; you haven’t had much of an appetite in the last week and you were sure she noticed your sudden weight loss. 

A part of you wanted to ask her to forget about it, especially because being in your old room brought back so many memories of Mark and how he would sneak in on school nights and how the two of you would stay up talking about anything your hearts desired. Being alone wasn’t something you’d think you’d ever get used to, especially because Mark was like your shadow. Wherever you went, Mark followed and unlike most people who would probably complain about his clinginess, you enjoyed it profusely. 

Knowing that Mark always craved your presence and needed to be around you to maintain his sanity made your heart flutter. This has been the longest you had to be without him and every day felt like an entire month. It’s as if time went by frustratingly slow because the universe was aware of your heartbreak and wanted to make you suffer for whatever reason you were unsure of. 

Taking a look around your old bedroom, you could feel your chest grow heavy when you saw the few pictures you had of you and Mark from when you were growing up and tears were soon building up at your eyes. The two of you looked so happy together; you were just a couple of kids who dreamt about so many wonderful things that life had to offer. Little did either of you know that one day, you would fall in love with one another before you could even comprehend the meaning behind that silly four letter word. 

You silently cursed to yourself for getting all worked up again; you came to your parent’s house as a way to heal on your own and to surround yourself with people who love you and care about your well-being. You just needed to have some kind of support system or else you’d drive yourself crazy back at your apartment thinking about what you could’ve done to have prevented the breakup from happening. The gentle knock on your door took you by surprise and you almost ended up dropping the frame. 

She released a long sigh before she walked over toward you and took the picture from out of your hands. The last thing your mom wanted to do was to make you even more upset by saying something to trigger you or cause you to overthink. But she couldn’t handle seeing you so broken; so defeated especially because you were an actual ray of sunshine. Your smile alone could light up an entire room and your personality was so bright and bubbly, people enjoyed your company because of your enthusiasm. 

As much as your mom liked Mark to the point where she would secretly plan out your future wedding with his mom whenever they’d go out to lunch together, she wanted to find him and make him regret what he did to her baby girl. She was shocked to say the least when she got your voicemail and at first, she couldn’t even understand what you were saying because your speech was so slurred and she couldn’t hear a word you were saying through your tears. Mark made it known to his surroundings that you were his entire world and all he cared about was making sure you were well taken cared of and that you were happy, healthy and got everything you deserved. You were so agitated just by seeing his photo and you wanted to scream. 

He was probably already over the entire thing and although it killed you to think like this, you couldn’t help but feel as if he was already looking for someone new. Why else would he have left you so easily? There must’ve been someone on the side but who were you kidding? That man planned an entire night out for you; to celebrate your life together. Your mind came up with all these different reasons for the breakup so you could get some closure but you weren’t stupid. You knew Mark loved you, you just couldn’t find a reason why he would tell you he regrets your relationship and wishes he never met you. 

You despised yourself for trusting Mark with your entire being; for allowing him to see each and every part of you. The good, the bad, the ugly. You hated that he was the only man you’ve ever loved with your entire physical, mental and spiritual being. You were upset with yourself for falling so hard for him and giving him the control to do such a thing to your heart. The feeling of being in your mom’s arms again after moving out almost two years ago was extremely comforting and very calming. 

She ran her fingers through your hair and continued to stay silent and waited until you stopped crying completely before telling you exactly what was on her mind. After your sobs slowly died down, she tapped on your forehead to get your attention. 

“Sweetheart, have I ever told you the story of when your father left me back when we were in college?” 

You shook your head in disagreement but widened your eyes in shock at her revelation. From what you were told, your parents were college sweethearts. Your dad fell in love with her when one of their mutual friends asked him to pick her up from work once and he was extremely grateful that their car was in the shop at that time or else he would have never met his soulmate. 

They’ve been together for over twenty years and not once have you heard this story, but now you were heavily interested. You always loved hearing stories about your parents relationship; it gave you high hopes for your own relationship and since you were going through a breakup right now, you could only hope the story would lift up your spirits. 

“We were together for only three months at the time and it was the first relationship I had where I genuinely cared for him. He was so kind, so flirtatious and used the cheesiest pickup lines to make me laugh. I knew he was going to be someone special in my life. Unfortunately, at the time your dad was the only one in his group of friends that was in a relationship. They told him that being in a relationship was “lame” and that he was still so young to be wasting his time being tied down to one girl. He tried to defend and fight for our relationship, but his friends continued to pester him over it, so he broke up with me. I was devastated, I cried for hours on end and couldn’t eat anything. But he showed up only three days later with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a bucket of fried chicken. He told me he loved me and refused to be without me. It was quire romantic if you ask me.” 

You giggled at the idea of your dad asking your mom to take him back with some Popeyes. You were upset to hear that your dad’s friends coerced him in to breaking up with her. However, you were happy to hear that it didn’t take too long for him to realize your mom was it for him.

“He’ll be back y/n. I know he will. That boy—he loves you. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, I can tell in his actions and with the way he looks at you that he’s head over heels in love with you. His mom also mentioned it a couple times; he’s—what is that word kids your age use these days? Whipped for you? She said he has stars in his eyes whenever you come up in conversation. It’s serious when a boy talks about you to his momma. One day when the two of you are married with a family of your own, you’ll look back on this little bump in the road and laugh—“

“Please don’t say that. You didn’t see the way he looked at me when he told me all of those hurtful things. It didn’t even feel like he was my boyfriend, it was as if I was looking at a stranger. It makes me wonder, did he ever really love me if he had no problem leaving me?”

“I’m serious y/n. I don’t know what things were said that night or how things ended up the way they did, but when it’s real, when it’s love, you just know. He probably looks just as bad and if not worse than you do. I know it hurts. Breakups are rough, especially because it’s obvious you and Mark were made for one another. But what have I always told you? If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it’s yours forever and if it doesn’t, well baby, it just simply wasn’t meant to be. He was probably just in the heat of the moment and said some things he probably didn’t mean. I’m sure he’s regretting this entire thing. Mark’s a smart boy; if he knows what’s best for him, he’ll be yours again in no time. Until then, get out of this funk y/n. There’s so many wonderful things in the world to do and to be grateful for. Do you really want to look back on your twenties and regret wasting your time crying over a boy when you could be doing so many different activities and go on so many adventures?”

You released a frustrated sigh and shook your head again. She was right. You were tired of crying and drinking so much. There was only so much alcohol your body could handle and it wasn’t worth all the hangovers. 

“Maybe we should tell your dad what happened so he can mess around with him a little bit and teach him a lesson.”

The idea and the way your mom said it made you let out a genuine laugh. Your parents were always so protective over you and it was probably because you were so kind-hearted that people tended to take advantage of how polite you could be. However, even if she meant it as a joke, you were nervous at what your dad would do if he found out about what Mark said to you and how the breakup was slowly killing you. You were a daddy’s girl and your dad never failed to do anything to make you smile; even if it meant scaring your ex-boyfriend which you knew you didn’t want him doing. 

Your mom stayed with you for a few hours until it was timed for her to make dinner and you ended up falling asleep because of how mentally exhausted you were. No matter how much your mom loved it whenever you stayed over, she didn’t want you to get used to running away from your problems and hiding when things got too difficult. She wanted you to learn to live without him on your own. Your mom knew that you were going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but one day you would heal from this entire situation and realize that your breakup was a learning experience. 

Plus, you had to return back to work sooner or later or you would lose your job completely. A cloud of sadness came once your dad pulled up to your apartment complex and they offered to walk you to your door but you weren’t sure if you’d allow them to leave if they did. They both pulled you in for hugs as they said their goodbyes and you actually cried as you watched them drive away. Why did life have to be so complicated? You were so unhappy to the point where you thought you would actually die from a broken heart. 

The aspect of dying from a broken heart was extremely devastating; you’ve heard about it on multiple occasions. It was normal for people to be so sad, so distraught and have no energy or motivation to do anything. They wouldn’t eat, sleep and only spend most of their days crying out what was left of their hearts. You didn’t think going through a breakup would cause this much damage to you and your well-being; but contrary to what your mom told you, Mark wasn’t just any boy. He was the owner of your heart and you understood that he could torment you like this because you allowed him to. 

You stopped by the mailbox to see if you got anything before heading up to your apartment. When your parents were driving you back to your place, you decided that you would actually get up and do something today. Whether it was tidying up your place from how messy it had become from your one too many drunken stupors, or going to the cleaners to get that wine stain out of your dress. As you began to approach your unit, you noticed there was something sitting right in front of your door. 

The closer you got, you realized that it wasn’t just something, it was someone. Your heart felt as if it was about to jump out of your chest when you realized exactly who the person was slumped up against the wall. It was exactly a week since your fight and you weren’t sure if it was what your mom had said about your love and how beautiful it was, or because you were miserable without him but you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and beg him to come back to you. 

You expected to be angry if you were to see him again because of all the trauma you suffered through; yet seeing him tugged on your heartstrings and it was as if you pushed the entirety of the last week to the back of your mind. When Mark heard footsteps coming towards him and he looked up to see who it was, he had to hold himself back from running towards you. Your mom was right, just like she normally was. 

This week was one of the worst weeks of his entire life. He was suffering without you. He never hated himself more than he did when he said all those things and he hated himself even more for not running after you as soon as those spiteful words fell from his mouth. You were the best thing that has ever happened to him, and if things were to end up differently that night, he would’ve been able to show you exactly what you meant to him in more ways than one. 

He wanted to call you, to text you and to tell you how stupid he was and how he didn’t mean a single word that he said to you but words were never his forte. Nor did he want to give up his pride even if it meant preventing this last week from ever happening. It was all his fault, or so he kept telling himself and he couldn’t go one more day without you in his life. It was too much for his heart to withstand. 

He was going to do everything in his power to get you to forgive him, even if it meant having to stay away from you for a little while longer for you to completely heal from this experience. As soon as he drove away from your apartment that night, he knew he fucked up and accidentally punched a hole in his wall out of anger. He was so selfish; so insensitive and didn’t think that his harsh words would have any negative effect on you. 

After hearing your little jabs at him, he wanted to hit you where it hurt the most but if he knew then what he knew now, he would’ve kept his mouth shut and just dropped you home so that you both could calm down and not say everything you both said to one another. You let out a deep breath and tried to prepare your heart to hear why he was there and to be ready to fight if the situation called for it. 

“Hey.” 

You looked up at him and you could feel tears brimming at your eyelids. He looked so tired and you knew for a fact that he must’ve cried with how his eyes practically mirrored the puffiness of yours. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent and his face looked smaller than it already was. It made you cringe; Mark was never one to portray himself as someone weak or someone who had feelings and emoted whenever something was up with him. If he had a problem, he’d deal with it on his own and this was no different. 

Good. He deserved to have suffered as much as you did. 

“Hi. How long have you been here for?” He shrugged before scratching the back of his head; something he normally did when he felt like he was in the wrong or whenever he was embarrassed and you took it as the former. 

“Um—since Wednesday I think.” 

Your eyes widened in shock at his answer. Wednesday? So that means he was sitting outside of your apartment for the last three days? 

“Wait, you’ve been here for three days? Are you crazy? Mark, you could’ve gotten sick! It’s cold out here! And what about food? Have you even been eating? You look so malnourished, why would you—“

“You and I both know why. I fucked up. Big time. It took me a while to think about it at this perspective because I was just so mad and I wanted to blame you for the way things ended that night but I came to the conclusion that this was my fault. I’m the one who fucked up something so amazing, so beautiful and so perfect because I was a fucking asshole y/n and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

In order to prevent wandering eyes of your neighbors, you opened the door and motioned for him to walk inside so that the two of you could have your privacy. 

“Shit y/n, what happened to your door? You have to practically force it open—“

“You don’t want to know. My dad is supposed to come over this weekend to try and fix it. I think the hinges must’ve came out or something. Can I get you something to eat? Drink?” 

He shook his head and you could see in your peripheral vision that he was hesitatingly reaching out for your hand, probably in attempts to bring you to the couch so he could continue the conversation from where the two of you began from but he just walked over to the living room and took a seat. You wanted to hear everything he had to say and you were going to make it a point to let him know what this breakup did to you. 

His focus was on the multiple empty bottles of alcohol sitting on your coffee table and because he was well aware of how much you hated alcohol, it was apparent that you must’ve had it really rough if you felt the need to turn to alcohol for solace. When he felt like he was ready to talk, he turned around to face you and released an exasperated sigh. 

“I’m sorry it took so long to come here—oh, these are for you. I actually had to go back to the store because the first two bouquets actually died probably because they weren’t being watered and I bought your favorite cookies—but I got hungry so there’s only three left.” 

He handed you the beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and you giggled at the sight of only three cookies in a big container but it made you smile nonetheless. 

How romantic. 

You politely thanked him and placed both of the gifts down on the table before speaking up. 

“You should’ve called me, I wouldn’t allow you to have waited out here for me. Are you crazy Mark? What if something happened to you—“

“Then so be it. I’d probably deserve it. Fuck, you don’t understand how much of a mess I was without you and how much I’ve been suffering because the image of your pained face would not leave my mind once this entire weekend. I had a feeling you weren’t home when you weren’t answering the door but then again, you could’ve looked through the peephole and decided you wanted nothing to do with me and I wouldn’t have blamed you. The old lady next door was kind enough to offer me some food here and there but I’m sure she probably thought I was a thief or something when she first saw me. I should’ve called but you and I both know why I didn’t. I kinda wanted to give you your space because I’m sure what I said probably got under your skin. I ruined our special day and I’m sorry if I broke your heart—with the way you’re looking at me I’m sure I hurt you pretty badly huh.” 

You looked up at him with a melancholic look in your eyes; that had to be the understatement of the year. If you didn’t have your family around to help you take your mind off of your failed relationship, you were sure you would have ended up in the hospital sooner or later. 

“You broke me Mark. You made me feel like I was worthless. You made me think there was someone else or that you fell out of love with me and I genuinely wanted to die. Pathetic right? I just—I didn’t know how to function without you and waking up every morning felt like a chore. At some points I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. I’ve heard heartbreaks caused by breakups were an unfathomable pain that are impossible to bounce back from and some people even die from a broken heart I just never would’ve thought it would happen to me. Especially because we were so happy; so in love and I would have never thought one stupid, meaningless argument could cause us to separate. You made it seem like leaving me was so easy and hearing that you wished that we never dated in the first place is what truly fucked me over. I became a fucking alcoholic because of you—I blamed the entire breakup on myself even if I didn’t say anything that I knew would inflict any sort of pain to you because the idea of hurting you hurts me. It’s sad to know you don’t feel that way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong y/n. I regretted everything that I said as soon as I said them but the damage was already done. Please believe me when I say this, I didn’t mean a fucking word. That was just the anger and the irritation talking for me. My life before you always felt so empty, and once you came in to it, you made everything so much better. You filled my life with color and made my heart soar by just the mere thought of you. I could never regret you or our relationship; you’re all I could ever want or need in this hell forsaken world. You know the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you—“

“BUT YOU DID MARK.” 

You didn’t mean to yell, but it was all the built up emotions you’ve been holding in that finally released itself and you knew you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he shivered at your tone. Not once in the many years of knowing you did Mark ever see you so mad. You were always such a shy and introverted person; he didn’t think you were capable of such an intonation. He hated that he was the reason for your hostility and he was afraid that it was too late. It may have only been a week, but what you went through was enough to change your warm-hearted personality in to a cold and aggressive one. 

“Nothing will ever change the fact that you gave up on us—on me. If you knew there was a chance that your words would affect me the way that they did, then you wouldn’t have said anything at all; but you said it all without hesitation like you did mean it. I was coming to accept our breakup for what it was. Sure I was hoping you would come back; hell this is the closest I ever felt to God because I found myself praying every single day for him to show me a sign. For him to heal me and make it known that I would be okay. I’d be lying if I said I’m not the least bit content that you’re here but—I really don’t know what to make of that.” 

To your surprise, he made his way toward you and reached for your hands. As intimidated he was by how you were acting towards him, he knew he had to grow some balls and man up, or he would lose you forever and the tiny box that was in his pocket would no longer have any use. 

“I don’t know what to say or do that would explain how sorry I am and how much I wish I could go back in time and prevent any of this from happening. I don’t know how to stop you from hurting, and to get you to forgive me—I‘ll do anything to fix this y/n. Please—tell me what to do. I can’t—I can’t lose you. Tell me you don’t love me, and then I’ll—I’ll—fuck, there’s no way I can let you go. Please baby—you asked God for a sign and I came here tonight to try and fix my mistakes. That has to mean something right?” 

Hearing him sound so desperate, so willing to do whatever you wanted him to in order to bring your relationship back to what it was made you feel so many emotions. As much as you wanted him to give you some time to think, you knew you’d take him back. It was going to take some time to forgive him, and to get his words out of your mind completely, but Mark was everything you ever wanted for the rest of your life. 

Why were you going to continue suffering on your own and staying away from him when all you wanted was to have him back in your life? You cupped his cheek softly with your palm and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Feeling him smile against your lips sent a fire through your veins; Mark’s kisses always had quite the effect on you. His lips were so pink and so pretty and you loved every single moment that they were pressed against yours. 

“You can start by paying for my dry cleaning. I got a huge wine stain on the dress I was wearing because I got drunk.” He giggled in to your neck before placing a chaste kiss there. 

“Done. You silly girl. God, I missed you so much baby. I also think I have something that could win me some brownie points but I hope tonight ends the way last week should have.” 

The question of what he was referring to was at the tip of your tongue, but before you could emit anything, he was now kneeling on the ground right in front of you and pulled out a red box. Your heart began to race on a you put two and two together; he was going to propose to you. 

“I know, this is probably not how you wanted this to happen and I promise you I had different ways in mind on doing this—but after losing you, I realized that it didn’t matter how, where or when I would ask you to spend the rest of your life with me; all that matters is that I did. I was actually planning on proposing you at the beach once we were finished eating, but I chickened out like the coward that I am. And I guess I was irritated with myself and took it out on you that night and I know I said it so many times, but I will continue apologizing until I make up for all the pain I’ve put you through. I’m sorry y/n. I don’t deserve you—I don’t deserve being able to do this right now but this last week without you made me realize that I can’t live if I have to do it without you.” 

He grazed your wrist with his thumb and you were sure he did that to calm down his nerves, but it was so cute. You loved seeing him so flustered and so nervous and you loved knowing that you were the reason behind his now shy demeanor. 

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. Every time I would drop you back home once we hung out back in high school, I felt this emptiness in my chest. Then I realized how much I loved hearing you laugh knowing that I was the reason behind it. I loved spending time with you and being around you. I loved the feeling I got whenever we were together. You and I can literally do nothing but I’m my happiest when I’m with you and that’s when I realized you were more than just a friend to me. These last few years with you have made me the happiest man alive. You mean everything to me baby—I wish I would’ve told you this sooner so we wouldn’t have wasted time apart but I’ll make up for it the rest of my life—if you let me of course. I’ll take good care of you my love. I’ll continue to love you and give you the world on a silver platter. Y/n, will you do me the greatest honor and marry me?” 

You were sure if someone else were in your shoes, they probably would’ve said no right off the bat. Heartbreak really did change a person. It made your whole aspect on life change for the worse and you knew you weren’t the same person you were a week ago. But you’ve dreamt about this situation on many accounts. There were times where you’d sleep over Mark’s place and you’d stay up looking at him in admiration and thinking about what your future together would look like. 

Sure, you would have preferred this surprise before all the unfortunate events that happened, but you were excited and speechless nonetheless. You sank to your knees and sat down on his lap; bringing your hands up to his face and pulling his lips up to yours. You couldn’t help the snicker that fell from the back of your throat when you felt a tear fall from his eyes on to your cheek. His hands were tight on your waist as he deepened the kiss, licking and sucking on your lips before all but gently shoving his tongue in between your teeth. When you felt his excitement pressing against your core, you pulled away and ignored the choked out whine that fell from his lips as you placed your forehead against his. 

“Yes. I would love to marry you Mark. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Thank you for coming back to me love.” 

The way he was looking up at you pulled on your heartstrings; you couldn’t wait to tell your mom of the news. You knew she would probably hit you with “I told you so” but she would also be extremely happy for you. He abruptly stood up and took you with him, wrapping your thighs around his waist. You knew exactly what his plans were as he made his way to your room and you were excited to say the least at what he was going to do with you.

Once the two of you entered the bedroom, he didn’t waste anytime throwing you on to the bed and attacking your face with kisses as he ran his hands along your body; needing to touch you everywhere. Right as he began dragging his fingers along your clothed heat, he gripped at your chin and made sure you were making direct eye contact with him. 

“You know, since your door is already broken, I don’t see any problem in breaking your bed also—ow! What? You’re going to be my wife one day soon, so it’s only natural for me to want to fuck the living shit out of you in celebration of our engagement—I’m actually starting to reconsider this whole marriage thing. Give me back that ring, I’m gonna go sell it and buy me the PS5–“

“You wouldn’t dare Tuan, I’ll end you—“

“Just shut up and let me love you damnit.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came after his little complaint. You still had yet to process that Mark was currently on top of you, ready to make love to you and to show you just how much he missed you. He playfully poked your cheek to break you out of your trance and squeezed your butt as a force of habit. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I’m just really happy, that’s all.”

 He gave you his signature cheeky grin and left a long, sloppy kiss on your lips. 

“Good. That makes the two of us, and that’s the only emotion you’re going to feel now that you’re stuck with me. Now, let’s make up for lost time shall we?”

Can you ask daddy if he's got time To come and look at my front door? It got slammed last night And now it don't close right And just promise that you won't tell him everything And keep that pistol in the drawer Mama, please don't say I'm gonna laugh about this someday You didn't see the way he drove away

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart? Oh, a broken heart

Can your knees give out from prayin' so hard? (Prayin' so hard) Can you go blind from cryin' in the dark? (In the dark) Was it ever really real If he don't feel like I feel?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright?

How does he sleep at night? Mama, the nerve of this guy To leave me so easy Am I gonna be alright? I wanna kick myself for fallin' so hard Mama, can you die from a broken heart? A broken heart

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 2

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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His body heavy, eyes drooping closed, Adrien released his transformation and flopped on his bed face down. Who in the world thought that him running a fashion empire after spending all day teaching the principles of physics to teenagers was a good idea? Add in Chat Noir’s obligatory patrols, and you've got yourself a sleep-deprived, confused, and stressed disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow.

“I’m so tempted to just sleep,” he whispered into the silence of his bedroom. “There’s always morning for changing clothes and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably a kwami-free one. I didn’t sign up for this uncivilized, touchy-feely stuff. Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being an involuntary participant in your grossly romantic endeavours?”

“If it were up to me, I would've done that a long time ago,” Adrien murmured. His shoes and clothes already on the floor, he crawled under the comforter, yawning. “But, you know just as well as I do that it isn't up to me, and Ladybug might actually be right about it being dangerous.”

“Hawkmoth hasn’t been active for years,” Plagg whined, finishing wiping himself with a sanitizing towelette and immediately heading straight for his stash of Camembert. “He’s probably dead already. Why do you still need to keep these masks on?”

“Hawkmoth not being active for a while isn’t proof that we’ll never see him again,” Adrien replied, wrapping himself around his pillow. “What if he’s just waiting for us to put our guard down to strike?”

“He isn’t that smart.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Adrien yawned again. “The man kept us on our toes for a decade. But even if, presumably, he’s out for good, this isn't the time to start a relationship still.”

“Why not?”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien mumbled, his eyes closed as he snuggled the pillow closer. “You know as well as I do that Ladybug is going through a rough period right now. Her job now demands all of her time and attention thanks to that jerk-boss that ditched them. Her relationship with her roommate—her best friend may I add—seems to worsen every time I hear about it. And have you even seen her? She’s lost weight and looks pale and tired all the time.” Adrien paused, opening his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked into the darkness of his bedroom. “Right now, Ladybug needs a friend who’ll support her, not another relationship to work on. And since I can’t help her with her civilian life, I’d be damned if I added to her problems.”

Adrien rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head. Ladybug needed a friend right now, not a boyfriend, and he loved her too much to add a romantic relationship to her already nearly unbearable pile. So until she got her promotion, he’d support her as a friend and would remain close for whenever she needed him. Once she reached her goal, though, that would change because then, Ladybug would actually have time and strength for a relationship with him. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid he was risking ruining everything before it even started. He’d already waited for her for years, he could certainly wait a little longer.  

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and started to settle in his little bed, turning and twisting until he found the perfect position. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Plagg,” Adrien replied, his thoughts racing back to his Lady and the effortless friendship they’d developed that tiptoed dangerously on the border of romance. It would come eventually. Adrien knew that, and when it did, he'd make his Lady the happiest girl in all of France. He'd never take her for granted. He'd always—

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg suddenly grumbled. “It’s creepy to grin like an idiot in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your wastebasket all the way over there?”

“I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. Now, stop it and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours left to sleep.”

“Don’t remind me.” Adrien groaned, flopping on his back. “I should’ve sold my shares and been done with it.”

“Then why did you listen to that dude from your work? You should try it, Adrien,” Plagg mocked. “See for yourself before deciding on what to do: continue teaching or follow in your father’s footsteps. Nonsense, I tell you. You should’ve sold and invested in Camembert production, something useful for once.”

“Max isn't a dude,” Adrien chuckled. “He's a friend, and he has a point. I've spent my life hating the fashion industry only because of my father and his crazy obsession with his work. Maybe—”

“He kicked you out of the house because you followed your passion instead of whatever he wanted you to do.”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, this fashion nonsense ruined your life. Why would you want to ‘try it out’?”

“My life isn’t ruined. And I think it’s smart to make sure I really do hate heading a fashion empire instead of simply projecting my failed relationship with my father on the whole industry.”

“A load of BS if you ask me.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s just for a few months. If I don’t like it by the end of the summer, I’m selling.”

“It’s May now—”

“Almost June.”

“Still May, meaning that there are more than a few months until the end of the summer. And good luck enjoying each and every one of them with Marinette around. She gave you quite a welcome today, didn’t she?”  

Adrien froze, all sleep vanishing at once, events of the past that changed his life forever flashing in front of his eyes.

***

On the day of their high school graduation, Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable, expressing in the most beautiful and sincere of ways just how much he meant to her. When she finished speaking, with a trembling, hopeful smile on her lips, she raised her eyes, full of fear and anxiety, to look at him, but stunned, Adrien couldn't reply for the longest time.

He loved Marinette. He truly did, but only as a dear, close friend. He hated to reject her feelings, but even if Adrien wanted to give Marinette his heart, he couldn't. It had belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they’d met.

Speechless, all Adrien was able to do was look back at Marinette with eyes full of regret and apology. She didn’t need words to understand his answer. Whispering something he didn’t quite catch, Marinette escaped before Adrien could do as little as to say how sorry he was.

He’d never forgiven himself for breaking her heart, and if only he had been more careful, Adrien was certain they would’ve gotten through that incident without losing their friendship. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t so lucky. A few days later, he learned that Marinette had been pre-approved for an internship at his father's company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew quite well what working for his father entailed and what it did to people as nice as Marinette. Sure, from the sidelines, being an employee at the hottest fashion house around seemed glamorous and exciting. In reality, there were only two options: you either allow this work to squash you and have a nervous breakdown before your first year was up, or you become just like his father—a cold, emotionless, heartless workaholic. There were no in-betweens or exceptions as far as Adrien was aware.

He couldn't let any of those happen to Marinette. Not when he wouldn’t be there to protect her. Not when, following a massive argument with his father over his plans for the future less than a week ago, Adrien was about to walk out of there himself. As of that moment, Adrien was supposed to move out of his childhood home by the end of the month if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Otherwise, he’d have to cater to his father’s every whim indefinitely. The choice was clear, and seeing as he was escaping that hell of a company himself, Adrien couldn't silently stand on the sidelines and watch Marinette try to get on board. Not when, unlike him, she didn't know the reality of working for his father. Sadly enough, considering the timing, Adrien doubted that based on his words alone, Marinette would ditch her lifelong dream of working for Gabriel in favour of any other fashion houses that were sure to welcome her with open arms as soon as they saw her portfolio.

That's why he'd done it. That's why Adrien stole her file from his father's office.

He only wanted to protect her. He never meant any harm. He planned to sneak her portfolio to a few of his acquaintances in the other fashion houses that would be a much better fit for Marinette than his father's company ever could.

Perhaps, he could've chosen a better way to go about that, but at that moment, this was all that Adrien could come up with. Better timing also would’ve been nice. With his rejection of her confession, the moment to mess around with Marinette’s passions was as wrong as could be. Still, Adrien was confident his plan would work. The next day, he had a photoshoot for a fashion house that was on top of his list of better options for Marinette, so he stashed a copy of her portfolio in his bag and didn’t think twice about it.

Big mistake.

An hour before he was supposed to leave for the said photoshoot, Alya and Nino dragged him out of the house, picked up Marinette on their way and headed to their favourite cafe for some celebration he couldn’t even remember now. Despite the slight awkwardness between Marinette and him, their hang out turned out to be quite enjoyable. So pleasant, in fact, that Adrien let his guard down and made the second biggest mistake of his life—he’d allowed Alya to rummage around in his bag for mints while he visited the men's room before departing for his photoshoot.

Huge… colossal mistake.

Adrien stopped short of reaching the table on his way back. His friends stared at him in shock; his gaze focused on Marinette.

“Is this the reason no one could find my application when I called them three days ago?” She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes as she clutched her portfolio in her hands. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well? They couldn’t find my portfolio because you took it?”

His body and mind paralyzed, Adrien stood frozen in place. He hadn't expected Marinette to find out. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do or say.

Hastily, Marinette gathered her things and headed for the door only to halt her steps in front of him a moment later.

“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I can understand and accept you not returning my feelings; no one can control their heart. But this?” Her voice cracked as tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her face. “Why would you be so cruel? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

Stunned, Adrien helplessly watched Marinette for a few moments, his dumbfounded silence only fueling her already rushed assumption about the situation. When his speech had returned, he’d scrambled to explain.

“You can’t work for my father.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. And why?”

“It’s a bad idea. You don’t know what working for him can do to you. Marinette, I’ve been there. I’ve seen things… terrible things that happen to people because they can’t handle the workload and demands. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you—”

Marinette raised her hand and spat, “Stop it. I don’t care what you’ve seen there. Those people aren't me. This is not yourdecision to make, Adrien. It’s my life. My decisions. And if it would be a mistake, I want to be the one making it!”

“But—”

“Save it. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong. Friends support each other, not—” She swallowed, looking away, and quietly added, “If my feelings are so much of an inconvenience to you that you didn’t even want me working at your father’s company, you should’ve said so. I would have stayed away on my own. You didn’t have to do this.”

With those words, she walked away. Alya and Nino followed.  

“I can’t believe you,” Alya had snarled. Nino kept looking down as he followed his girlfriend.

They’d kicked him out of their private chat room that same day. Adrien's multiple calls, emails and texts over the next few weeks to the three had gone unanswered. His hope for a chance to explain had been slowly dying, and in the end, it was Chloe—the only friend who remained by his side—who’d convinced him to give up. His heart was breaking, but Chloe was likely right; if none of his friends had responded by then, they’d probably blocked him. Adrien had some pride left, and he wasn’t going to impose himself on anyone in person if they wouldn't speak to him over the phone. There was only so much he could do trying to fix that mess; and he’d done more than enough. By the end of the month, Adrien moved out of the mansion, changed his contacts, and tried to start a new life, leaving everyone behind.

With his move, his relationship with his father had taken a sharp turn for the worse, the two of them becoming as good as strangers. Thankfully, Adrien had enough work and savings to support himself. Soon, he’d found new friends in university, and life seemed to be regaining at least some sense of normalcy. He regretted neither leaving his father nor trying to stop Marinette from entering Gabriel. Quite the opposite, Adrien would've never forgiven himself if he hadn't tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

Years passed. Adrien graduated and began working as a physics teacher at a local high school, ending his modelling career as soon as he’d signed his teaching contract.

He never heard much from Gabriel until the day his lawyer called from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything, but in his heart, Adrien still mourned. He still cared because no matter how estranged they'd grown, Gabriel was still his father and there had been times when Adrien had been happy with him. He wished it could've been different. He wished they could've had a better relationship, but it was a little too late to change anything when his father was taking his final breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

***

Adrien shifted in his bed. He had never asked to inherit anything. He didn’t need this company. It ruined a good part of his life, and for that, he hated it. Being cut off by his former friends, he didn’t know Marinette had been working there, sending all of his sacrifices to hell. But, boy, was he right. That gorgeous woman that snuck into his father’s office today—yes, he had to admit she was gorgeous; Marinette was always pretty but she had bloomed into a beautiful woman—was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. A thick layer of exhaustion glazed over her stunning blue eyes; her flawless skin looked pale; the sagging curve of her pink lips did absolutely nothing to accentuate her loveliness. The deep frown line in the middle of her forehead might have been there because of meeting him, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working for his father hadn’t been merciful to Marinette.

Just as he’d predicted.

The worst part of all, however, was that Marinette seemed to not see it herself, fighting for a company that, without a strong leader, was quickly going under. Didn’t she have anyone in her life to care enough for her to shake her out of that trance? Didn’t she—

A thought popped into his head so unexpected and crazy, his eyes widened. It was rather insane, but perhaps fate was giving him a chance to redeem himself?

Whatever wrong he’d done before, his intentions were always pure: to help Marinette. She used to be his friend. He cared for her. Surely fate or destiny or whatever cosmic force that controlled his luck saw that and thought it unfair for Adrien to be condemned for what he hadn’t done. He wasn’t a backstabber; he was a loyal friend.

So, perhaps if he was the bigger person and helped Marinette now, she’d see his noble objective and would have to admit that he wasn’t as horrible of a person as she probably thought him to be. Perhaps she’d even apologize. He was older now, more mature. Surely, he could come up with better plans for how to improve Marinette's life, help her succeed, and prove the purity of his intentions and sincerity of his character.

He did also kind of owe her for breaking her heart. Maybe this was a chance to atone for that as well.

Adrien shook his head and rolled over in his bed. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for someone who tossed him aside without even letting him explain. He shouldn’t help anyone who wouldn’t even listen to him or give him the benefit of the doubt.

He had been her friend. She had claimed to be in love with him. Why then was a simple mistake big enough for her to dismiss years of friendship and kick him out of her life? Why should he even think about doing anything nice for such a person, even if only to prove himself right?

Because she helped you just a few hours ago despite hating you.

Adrien groaned. Damn conscience! He still shouldn’t! She did it for the sake of her job, not because she cared for him.

She still helped you when you needed help. She isn’t a lost cause yet. There's still good in her.

Adrien pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t! Not after the way she treated him.

Weren’t you the one to deliver the first blow, though?

Adrien sat up, running his hands through his hair. Why was he such a pushover? Why couldn’t he be more like his father when it came to things like these? Why was he already thinking of the ways he could help Marinette?

Because you aren’t your father, and you still care.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help her.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Just leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

Settling back into his bed, Adrien closed his eyes and hoped for a few peaceful hours of slumber. Instead, his head buzzed with ideas crazy enough to make him chuckle one moment and bemoan his existence the next. By the time the morning rolled in, there were only two things that Adrien was certain of:

First, Gabriel would have to go. His father had built that company on his employees’ tears and suffering. It wasn’t worth saving, even if Adrien thought he figured out how to do that. It might be a petty, personal revenge move, but Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to care. It would be the right thing to do. Most of its employees had already handed in their resignation letters, anyway.

Second, there was only one way for Marinette to make it in this industry now: find a position in a different company. With her talent, it shouldn't be a problem. He just had to play his cards right and find her a company that would appreciate her more than his father ever did—showing her in the process what a grave mistake she made all those years back when she had cast him aside so cruelly.

Next >

[baegarrick]

ZUKKA ADVICE COLUMNIST AU! EITHER sokka as the columnist with a large readership/listenership bc of his elaborate plans to address typical relationship/work problems & zuko asking questions about social situations/making new friends when you've had a troubled childhood & your best friend is your uncle. OR: zuko as the thoroughly unqualified advice columnist (THAT'S ROUGH BUDDY)

yes 👏🏻

idk if it was inspired by this post or not, but if you haven’t seen it you should

finally got this done I'm the slowest actually

as much as I love “thoroughly unqualified zuko” (he’s my favorite dummy), I’m kinda so here for a “sokka’s elaborate plans” au

I’m thinking a little “you’ve got mail” and that post mixed in

so: Sokka is an advice columnist in the college paper. (this is a college au now sorry)

Zuko is one of his roommates (with like, Aang and Haru or something)

Sokka’s column is one of those “ask auntie” anonymous columns, and the name he’s forced to pen under is.... Aunt Wu. Katara and Aang both know he writes for the paper in the column, bc Katara’s his sister and Aang is their oldest friend and he figured it out (the kid is smart), but most of their friends don’t know, mostly bc the paper wants to keep it as anonymous as possible, and also he really didn't plan on staying this long. it was supposed to be one of those easy jobs for a semester until he got an internship in the robotics department, but it’s three semesters and one robotics internship later and he still!! has a job!! (partially because they told him if he quit they would do something unspeakably horrible to him, and also bc he’s..... popular??)

it started out as just a job, but Sokka’s an overthinker. he’s bright as hell, and maybe it’s his engineering brain, but he sometimes misses the obvious sometimes. Half his plans for “how do I deal with this guy who I’m dating who says either the fish goes or he does?” start out “dump him!!!” and then end with “.... actually wait, first of all it’s really shitty he wants you to get rid of a fish??? its a FISH???? it doesn’t even do anything????” and then three paragraphs of both a personal experience (sokka surprisingly has a lot of personal stories that Relate) and an elaborate plan for dumping this guy and then signing him up for like 12 free fish magazines.

He gets really popular, and while some of the questions he gets are weird and kinda over the top (”aunt wu, I’m blind but want to join the wrestling team, how do i tell my parents I’m both gay and stronger than them?”) some are just kinda sad (”aunt wu, my uncle is my best friend, how do I make friends?”). They’re all asked anonymously, sometimes with funny names attached. The latter is from a guy calling himself, “Blue Spirit.”

Anyway. Three semesters into writing this column, he lives with Aang, Zuko, and Haru. He picked Aang, the other two just came with the place (Suki, Katara, Yue, and Toph said “under absolutely no circumstances will we be splitting up so good LUCK boys we’re out.”)

He starts getting questions like, “How do I break the ice with my roommates?”, from the “Blue Spirit” guy, which prompts Sokka to get his roommates involved. He’s not against crowdsourcing. (only aang knows about the job, he tells the others its for school.) Sokka doesn’t really know Haru and Zuko, but like, this is a great way to get to know them, right?

Haru’s chill off the bat, but Zuko’s awkward and fumbling, and a little shy (though Sokka has heard him getting in a shouting match with the TV on more than one occasion), but after they get into it, throwing out ideas, Sokka thinks, you know, this was a good way to make friends with roommates. (he doesn’t write that, exactly, he’s got a reputation to uphold, but he includes “tricking them into hanging out with you by asking about a homework assignment” in the article) Zuko’s in the living room a lot more often after that, and even asked for Sokka’s help on a physics assignment once (ya know, bc Sokka’s super smart), so he thinks the method is tried and true.

A couple weeks of other mundane questions, he gets one that makes him pause. “What do I do if I have a crush on my roommate?” (Blue Spirit). and he thinks, “oh no, the ice breaker worked TOO WELL.” (but, of course, he doesn’t know what to do about this. He’s never had a crush on a roommate before. Aang’s like his little brother, Jet was a creep, and Hahn was the WORST. So he outsources again.)

[”Hey Aang,” Sokka says, hanging half upside down off the couch, “would you date your roommate?”

“Sorry Sokka, I’m flattered, but you know that Katara has captured my heart-- hey!” Sokka throws the remote at him.

“Not me! Just like, in general. Would you date someone you’re living with?”

“Oh, is this advice for your...... thing?” His eyes twinkle, “Or.... do you have a crush on someone I should know about????” (Aang is wildly unhelpful. He says he would date his roommate, no questions asked, but Sokka thinks he’s just thinking about Katara.)

He asks Zuko, next, the first person to come through the door.

“Would you date your roommate, Zuko?” Sokka asks. Zuko looks like he’s a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m asking for a friend,” Sokka says, whenever they ask. This was what had gotten him in trouble with Aang, but so far no one else had noticed Aunt Wu answering the same questions in the paper a week later.

Zuko relaxes, but he doesn’t look much better. “Uhhhh.”

“I mean, not like, us,” Sokka said, “I don’t know if you’re into dudes--”

“Definitely into dudes,” Zuko rushes to say, his cheeks pink all over again, and it’s cute. Sokka can see why dating him might be appealing. Oh no. That’s a thought for later. “Definitely gay.” And then, “I mean.... would you?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka says thoughtfully, looking Zuko over. Before he can think over it, Haru comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered.

Haru just shrugs. “I mean, isn’t your spouse just like your permanent roommate? It’s just like making a commitment really really early.”]

He publishes this in the paper: “What do you want to do about it?”

When he’s typing it up, he thinks about it. There are really two options for having a crush on your roommate. One, you can tell them you like them, or two, suffer in silence. He thinks about it. If he had a crush on someone-- his thoughts wandering to Zuko far more often than he likes-- he would probably do something about it. That’s what he did with Yue, that’s what Suki did with him. He details an elaborate plan with anecdotes about what he did with Yue, leaving out the part that they broke up. Giving her gifts, making her laugh, showing up at her workplace just to hang out for a little while. He details a 12-step plan that involves defeating your rival in hand-to-hand combat.

Of course, none of that would work with Zuko. They once got into an argument over how loud the TV was when neither of them were watching it, so he definitely wouldn’t want Sokka fighting his battles for him.

And then, oh no.

(He publishes the article. He tries not to feel like a hypocrite when he doesn’t immediately ask Zuko out, thinking about what Haru says. It’s a lot of commitment for an early relationship. He’s always the responsible one. For once in his life, he doesn’t go after what he wants.)

A couple months of this, living with these dudes, one of whim he now has a crush on!! thanks ANONYMOUS BLUE SPIRIT, the girl running the horoscopes segment of the paper quits and leaves that segment without an author. cue Sokka, reluctant horoscope writer. (He doesn’t even believe in this stuff!! but does he really believe half the stuff he writes in Aunt Wu?)

He half-asses it the first week. He looks up some bullshit guide to what everything means, listens to Toph describe what she thinks they mean over drinks at the tea place, and then sends it off to be published. He finds Zuko sulking in the living room two days later.

[”My horoscope said I’m going to make everyone around me miserable this week!” Zuko falls back on the couch, dramatically, like it’s a fainting sofa. “With my physics exam next week, I know it’s because I’m going to fail and drag you all down with me!”

“Oh,” Sokka says, stopping in the doorway. “You read those? ...and believe them?”

“Yes?” Zuko says, face a flushed red.

“Oh,” Sokka says, mind going a million miles per hour. “I have to, uh, go do my homework now.”]

The next week, Scorpio gets a nice horoscope about how everything is going to go right in the world and all that other sappy bullshit. Zuko looks better before his exam, and he’s happier. Sokka keeps that in mind whenever he seems Zuko looking a little down.

It’s not until the week before Winter Break that Sokka is forced to confront his feelings, in the dumbest of ways. His laptop breaks, and he asks Zuko to borrow his so he can finish the second-to-final Aunt Wu column. Zuko tosses his laptop over without thinking, from the other side of the couch, and he goes to open a document when he sees one already open.

It’s an early draft of a letter addressed to Aunt Wu, and it’s signed off with, “Blue Spirit.” He looks over at Zuko, who seems to realize what he left open at the same time, and suddenly--

[Zuko pounces, practically leaping into Sokka’s lap to slam the laptop shut. Sokka looks down at him, surprised. The only thing he can think of saying is, “You’re the Blue Spirit?”

Zuko looks more like he’s ready to die than ever, cheeks a furious red, “You read Aunt Wu?”

“Of course not,” Sokka says without thinking. “I write it.”

“Oh,” Zuko says, “that’s so much worse.”

Finally the implication catches up to Sokka, and this time, he feels his face heat, Zuko still sprawled across his lap. “You.... have a crush on your roommate?” Zuko doesn’t say anything. For once, Sokka’s mouth works properly. “Dude, I really hope your crush is on me because otherwise this is gonna be really awkward.”

“Wha--” Zuko tries to say, but Sokka’s leaning down to kiss him. When he pulls back, Zuko looks a little starstruck. “Oh. Yeah. It was definitely on you.”]

(Sokka doesn’t tell him about the horoscopes. He’ll tell him when he graduates, but for now, he likes making Zuko smile.)

[vegitossj2]

Best Girl Talk: Ganyu

Hello there :D

Its been a while since my first post, but I’ve been very busy with internship lately so I didn’t really have the time to sit down and write. But thankfully I’ve got a bit of free time lately, so I’m finally able to post something XD

Anyways, the first topic that I want to talk about is actually a very simple one. I just wanna talk about my 3 best girls for a little bit, and why I love them so much. As I tend to ramble quite a bit about them, I decided to split them into three parts. For the first part, I’ll be focusing on Ganyu from Genshin Impact!

^ Official Art ^

Among the 3 girls, Ganyu is the newest addition of them. However, that did not stop me from liking her very much as a character.

Firstly, her personality. Personality is usually one of the main things in a character that I see, that would usually determine as to whether I would love them or not. In Ganyu’s case, she has a gentle and kind aura around her that I love a lot. She’s not the type to want to fight because she doesn’t like to hurt others, as shown in one of her dialogues where she wanted to find a more peaceful way to settle disputes (See Feelings About Ascension: Building Up), and she’s always lending a helping hand to her juniors when they ask her for anything. In addition to that, she also has a calm and soothing aura around her, which could be attributed to her gentle looks, and her Japanese va, Reina Ueda (I play with jp voices). I always feel calm and relaxed whenever I look at her and/or listen to that soothing voice of hers. Not to mention that she’s also still rather pure, (despite her being like 3000 years old lol) which can be seen imo where she calls dogs amazing creatures in one of her dialogues, because they can still respond even if the wrong name is called. I love that part of her so much, it makes her super cute. 

However, Ganyu also has a serious side which I love, and in fact, I generally love characters who can get serious as well when needed. When she’s working, her gentle and kind demeanor has been transformed into that of a firm, confident young lady, and when she’s fighting, her voice becomes fierce and powerful. Its because she can be so gentle, yet so cool and badass that makes me love her a lot.

Secondly, as for her fighting/playing style, I am aware that people may find her difficult/boring to play because of her charged attacks. I, on the other hand, am a huge fan of it. In RPG games, I like to fight from a distance using bows and whatnot, which means that Ganyu’s playstyle perfectly fits my preferences already. Furthermore, I like that challenge of having to aim your shots first before firing it. It makes the gameplay feel more interesting in my opinion. (tho nowadays I can easily headshot enemies on mobile with her after using her for so long XD) Also, I cannot end this point off by not mentioning how gentle and graceful her animations when she performs her Normal Attack, Elemental Skill and Burst. Almost feels as if she’s dancing. Sometimes I wonder how can a character be so gentle and graceful, yet so badass and cool at the same time. Ganyu’s amazing.

However, above all that I said, the primary factor that led me to loving her so much is how I can relate to her as a person. During the dialogue in which she wishes you a happy birthday, she mentions that she failed to make a dessert for me when it actually tasted good. It tells me that she is somewhat of a perfectionist, which is in fact something I struggle from even today. I also share her large appetite and love for eating (which is so cute of her btw), as well as her disinterest in participating in lively activities such as parties and whatnot. But the one thing that really resonated with me was this quote she mentioned (taken from Honey Impact):

This. Really resonated with me. I too, do not understand why people try to prove that they are of more worth than others, when everyone is human and of the same level. And when Ganyu said that, it really boosted my liking of her as a character a lot. Being able to see a little bit of myself in a character means a lot to me as I feel that I have a personal connection with that character, which eventually leads to me loving them a whole lot.

Anyways, that’s all I have for my best girl Ganyu. Hope you all enjoyed it :)

For the next part, I will be talking about Kotori from Love Live! See ya soon :D

- Vegi

[raysofcrosby]

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW – T. SEGUIN

"𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 '𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺'."  ─ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: just some swearing nbd

word count: 4,113 [ oof yikes ]

authors note: originally i was gonna turn this idea into a fic, but like...i have no energy for that. so if anyone wants it to, it can be a multi part series for seggy boy :)  anyway, stop by and request something or let me know what you think about this–– ok bye and enjoy!!

"Baby Benn, I need your assistance." You looked up from your Physiology book to see Big Rig, otherwise known as Jamie Oleksiak, or as you like to call him– a big teddy bear– make his way over to you.

"She's studying Jamie, what do you need?" Dave said, never taking his eyes off of Klingberg's ankle as he continued to tape it.

"What's more important? My deathly aching shin or this..." He picked the book up from your hands and lazily flipped through the pages, crinkling his nose in disgust. "This migraine-inducing book."

"Give that back," You said, standing up and reaching across the desk, taking your book from his hands. "This migraine-inducing book is what will get me my degree, which will hopefully lead to a job you teddy bear."

"Still didn't answer my question."

You sighed and marked the page before closing your book and standing up from the small desk. "Is it the same one?"

"Yup!" He smiled and hopped up onto one of the stretching tables, holding out his right leg. "So tell me doc, does it need to be amputated? Am I going to die of this killing pain?"

Before you could answer, he was getting smacked in the back of the head by a green resistance band. You looked over and saw Jamie, your older brother, rolling his eyes just as he tossed the band at you. "If you don't do your stretches it won't be the shin splints that kills you, it'll be me."

"Damn Chubbs, I was just playing," Big Rig groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't need to almost decapitate me."

"Oh, so I can go back to studying?" You asked, holding out the resistance bands as your brother, Dave and a few of the other players getting serviced laughed. "Unless you want to write this paper for me after your game tonight?"

Big Rig rolled his eyes and grabbed the band, looping his foot through it and starting to stretch his shin. "You just lost your spot as my favorite trainer in training."

"I'm the only trainer in training, J." You reached out for the resistance band and made him take more into his grip. "Keep it tight and stretch slow. You'll get the most out of it that way."

Soft snickering behind you soon turned into a burst of laughter and you watched as Big Rig's attempt to hide a smirk, ultimately failed. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not needing to know who the laughter belonged to. "27-years-old and still acting like a pre-pubescent boy with an underdeveloped frontal lobe? Could only be you, Segs."

Tyler fake scoffed, bringing a hand to his chest and looking at you with hurt eyes. "I'm flattered you've managed to keep my age tucked away in that big brain of yours, but pre-pubescent? I figured baby Benn would have a much better insult than that."

"Oh, I have tons of better insults," sitting down in your chair, you picked up your book and smiled at him. "Just none that your baby brain would be able to even begin to comprehend."

His hurt look faded and he licked his top teeth, shaking his head and laughing. "You'd be very surprised at what this baby brain can understand."

You gasped, this time holding your hand to your chest and looking at him in wonder. "You mean that you're capable of having knowledge in anything besides Hockey and breasts?"

You heard the snap of Big Rig's resistance band echo as it flew off of his foot. The other guys stared at you in awe before laughing at Tyler. You raised a single eyebrow at your brother's best friend, daring him to snipe back at you. But when he opened his mouth, Jamie stepped in your vision, picking up Big Rig's resistance band. "Okay you two, stop bickering like some stupid lovesick teenagers." He tossed the resistance band at Big Rig and turned to you. "And please, I never want to hear the word breasts come out of your mouth again."

"I'm almost 22 Jamie, it's perfectly normal for–"

He held up a hand and shook his head. "For the sake of my ears, just...please, no bodily mentions. I'd just rather not have that in my head."

You sunk back down into your chair, as he went to grab a foam roller. Before looking back at your book, you peeked over the top of it to see Tyler stuffing a heating pad into his shirt, holding it firmly on his left shoulder. As if he could feel you staring, he looked up, resting his back against the wall and smirked, raising a single eyebrow before tapping his temple and mouthing "big brain."

You rolled your eyes and subtly cleared your throat and turned the page, using your middle finger that you made sure was perfectly within his line of vision. He laughed and covered it up with a cough before shaking his head and leaving the training room completely.

It was normal, dealing with the chirps of your brothers' teammates. You'd been around them for the last three years of your college education, only this time during your last year, you were working alongside them. It was a weird adjustment, going from seeing them in the corridors post-game, relaxing on the weekends at a bar to shadowing their athletic training staff during practices and games. When you mentioned your internship, Jamie didn't even bother to ask you if you wanted to shadow the Dallas Stars Athletic Trainers. Mainly because he knew you were too afraid to ask. So he just went up to Jim Nill and asked if you could do your internship there for the season and that was it.

That's how you got your internship.

You were grateful for the fact that your brother was able to help you get your foot in the door with this internship, which is why you did anything and everything that your 'bosses' asked. Whether it was replacing heating pads, washing the covers for them, changing the water in the heater– any grunt work, you did with no hesitation. And they appreciated seeing you so willing to learn what their day-to-day lives were like when they were on the job. Eventually, you went from doing grunt work to being able to tape up ankles, help with stretches, almost anything except for stitching. That, you weren't allowed to do.

The boys took you in as one of their own the moment most of them met you, your freshman year at SMU. It was easy to 'adopt' Chubb's little sister, as they so liked to put it. And the moment that you stepped foot into the training room with your official Dallas Stars polo, that's when the real fun began. Their jokes about you being 'Baby Benn' never seemed to end. You were often victim to their playful chirping and of course, they didn't bother to keep the language clean of innuendos are curse words. They knew that they didn't have to though, especially since you grew up with Jordie and Jamie Benn as your two older brothers. Not only had you'd grown up knowing what the Hockey atmosphere was like, but you could also give it right back to them.

And man, they loved it. Tyler, however, seemed to love it the most. Whether it was because he was Jamie's best friend or he just took a special interest in picking on you, you never figured it out. Besides Big Rig and Bishop, you were close to Tyler. Mainly, since he was Jamie's best friend, but also because of all of the ways he's helped you out in the last four years. He and Jamie moved you into your dorm room every year since freshman year. When they were on long roadies, Tyler paid you to come over and take care of the dogs, though you never took the money because playing with his three boys was like free therapy and his house was only a few minutes down the road. And if inclement weather forced you to evacuate campus and you didn't feel like staying on Jamie's fancy leather couch, Tyler offered you one of his many guest rooms. Though most of the time, you just took the couch at Jamie's.

Tyler may be your big brother's best friend so you've got to know him a little bit over the last few years...but if there was one thing you knew most about him, it was his womanizing reputation about Dallas. Hell, around anyplace he steps foot in. He knows he's a damn good hockey player, he knows that he's not exactly ugly and he's damn well aware of all of the women who'd love to say that they spent the night with Stanley Cup Champion, Tyler Seguin. And he doesn't care because like any 20-something male, he's getting laid and that's all that matters.

Which, you guess is why the two of you tend to butt heads and chirp at each other the most. You can't stand guys who bounce from girl to girl and he's just an ass. Especially since he always joins in whenever Jamie rags on your boyfriend of two years, Cole. For as long as you've been dating, Jamie and Tyler have refused to let up on the jokes involving his red-shirt senior status on the baseball team or his involvement in Beta Upsilon Chi. They'd always sneak in stupid frat jokes whenever they were around him, knowing that he'd probably never catch on. You couldn't rebuke them though, because well...Cole kind of was your stereotypical Frat bro. But you got enough of the negative comments from your dad and oldest brother whenever you were at home, you didn't want them to follow you down at school too.

Your ringtone blaring from your backpack that was hanging on the back of your chair tore you away from your textbook. When you put it down, you noticed that the training room was empty and their warm-up music was echoing softly from outside of the room. It happens sometimes, you getting so lost in your schoolwork that you just tend to zone out all noise. And you weren't needed out on the bench until game time anyway, so it was no wonder why Dave didn't bother to interrupt your reading.

You reached into your backpack and grabbed your phone, looking at the screen to see that Cole was calling. Pressing the green button, you brought the phone up to your ear and picked your book back up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey babe where are you?" His voice was being muffled by the loud music coming from his end of the call.

You laughed, turning another page. "I think the better question, is where are you?"

You could hear him talking to people in the background as the music overtook his side of the call. Ignoring it, you took a deep breath and sighed, re-reading over a paragraph. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything besides asking where you were."

The music and sounds of people mingling muffled on his side of the call, making it a little easier to hear him. "Oh I'm at the house, where are you? Are you almost ready to head over?"

Flipping another page, your focus starts to dwindle from Cole and more into your textbook. "Um, no? I'm at the arena for work."

"What do you mean? Why are you at the arena?" The muffled sound of music doesn't last much longer as it practically erupts through the speaker on your phone. He must have gone back into the pre-game.

You pull the phone away from your ear and check the time. Warm-ups shouldn't be ending for another five minutes, meaning nobody should be coming into the training room or the corridor anytime soon. You pressed the speaker and placed your phone onto the desk. "I'm working tonight, remember?"

"Uh, no? You never told me you were working tonight!" He yelled over the music, saying hi to more people as he traveled through the house no doubt. "You're supposed to be here in like, thirty minutes, Y/N. It's Beta Ball! You said you'd be here."

"Actually, no I didn't," you could feel yourself begin to get annoyed as you heard one of his friends offer him two shots. "I told you that I had to work. I even printed out a schedule and gave it to you, remember?"

The sound of him gulping down two shots echoed over your phone as he sighed in relief. "You didn't give me a damn schedule, Y/N."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were telling yourself to cut him some slack since he was obviously in the midst of pre-gaming. But another part of yourself just wanted to tell him you were busy and hang up the phone. Cole could care less about his schoolwork, only frat parties, preparing for his upcoming season and then getting drafted.

"I did give you a schedule, Cole. I gave it to you on Monday," you flipped another page, "which was four days ago."

The music started to muffle again, soon followed by the sound of a door shutting– muffling the music completely. "This party is a huge deal, Y/N. It's one of the biggest parties of the semester and if you're not here I'll look like a total fucking loser. It's the damn formal!"

You couldn't help but snort as his statement. "It's not the biggest party of the year, Cole. You're just drunk."

He must be stumbling around whatever room he's in because you can hear him bumping into things and stuff being thrown on the floor. It was surprising how bad his tolerance was, especially for being in a frat. "You're not even a real fucking trainer, why are you there?"

"It's my internship for my degree, Cole. Some of us care about getting a college education instead of worrying about what to wear to the next sleazy frat party," you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. "So calm down the roid-rage and enjoy your party of the year."

"Are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?"

"Jesus Christ, Cole it's not even a real ball!" You yell, just as the sound of a door opening and closing echoes around you. "It's literally that stupid party where girls have to wear lingerie and the boys just spend their time ogling over them."

A wave of green rushed into the room, coming to a stop at the table closest to me. They pulled their warm-up jersey over their head before you could even make out who it was. But the moment you saw the fancy script of one familiar Stanley Cup tattoo, you knew who it was. You picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker bringing it back to your ear as he continued to dress down from his gear. "What? Have you contracted an itch from all of the girls you've been seeing?"

Tyler looked over at you and smiled, shaking his head as he kept undressing. "Don't enjoy the show too much."

"Seriously Y/N, it's super fucked up that you're not coming tonight! You owe it to me, I'm your fucking boyfriend!" His slurred voice must have been heard from your phone since Tyler looked over at you again with a raised eyebrow. "If you don't show up, we're done! You can take your shit a-and get lost."

"I need service, please," Tyler said, taking your attention away from the phone call and hopping up onto the table in nothing but his pants and his pads. He was sitting up straight and had his hands in his lap like he was a kindergartner waiting for storytime.

"Sorry Seguin, I don't provide the kind of service you're used to."

He rolled his eyes and kicked up both of his legs, taking off his sicks and shin pads. "Not that kind, the athletic training kind." His eyes moved over to the phone against your ear and then back at you. "Or are you too busy?"

"Is that a guy?" Cole slurred, his loud slurping from his new drink grossing you out. "Y/N, who the fuck are you with?"

The annoyance from the entire phone call was bubbling up until you couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, Cole, I need to go," you looked over at Tyler, setting down and closing your book. "I'm busy."

"Are you at least going to fucking try and come to the party instead of wasting away like an old maid?" You raised your eyebrows at his comment, your inner voice telling you to refrain from snapping at him.

And yet, it was hard not to feel guilty since you knew how important these frat parties were to Cole. You sighed and stood up from the chair. "Maybe after the game, I don't know."

He didn't even bother to reply to your response and instead, just hung up on you. You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it to see that he had, in fact, hung up on you. "Rejection hurts, huh?"

You rolled your eyes at Tyler's comment and placed the phone back down onto the desk, then making your way over to him. "Is there any reason why you just performed a half-assed strip show in the training room?"

"Oh no, that's not my strip show," Tyler laughed, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "You'd know my strip show if you saw it. It leaves the ladies dripping."

"Why? Because they pissed themselves from laughing so hard?"

In true Tyler fashion, he rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up at you. "I need my ankles taped and don't worry, Dave said you could do it."

"A little late there, don't you think?" You asked, walking over to the cupboards that held every material you'd need. "Or is the Tyler Seguins' supposed big brain, not able to support memory?"

"Yeah, well I got distracted by your brother and his fawning over Katie...again."

You laughed, taking the basket with everything that you'd need back over to the table he was sitting on. "Ah, so you've been caught up on the drama?" You grabbed a stool and brought it to the end of the table, resting a knee on it as you nodded for him to scoot back and extend out his leg.

He leaned back on his hands, watching as you began to tape his ankle. "At this point, I think their relationship history could give lifetime at least three new movies."

"Lifetime movies, huh? Didn't take you to be the kind of guy to tune in to those." You focused on going through the appropriate steps, keeping your eyes on his ankle. "Maybe Hallmark, but definitely not Lifetime."

"Wow, you know so little about me, I'm hurt. Besides, their 'sucks to be sixteen' marathons are great." He brought his right knee up as you tapped the finished ankle before moving onto his left. "Let me guess, you love the Hallmark Christmas movies and you've never missed a single one?"

You looked up at him for a few seconds before looking back down and continuing to work on his ankle, not answering his question. He wiggled his foot, causing you to look back up at him. "Seguin, I swear to–"

"Ha! I knew it! You're a total sucker for those cheesy, romance Christmas movies."

"For your information," You meticulously started to wrap his ankle with the pre-wrap. "It's a family tradition, at least between my mom, my sister and me. Dad and the boys wouldn't be caught dead watching those." You paused, smiling for a second. "Unless it's the Candace Cameron-Bure ones. Jamie's a sucker for those."

A comfortable silence settled over as you finished up his ankle. When you tapped it, he sat up and pointed down at the floor. "Can you pick up my socks? I don't want to have to bend down to get them."

"Why, is Mr. 3% body-fat getting, dare I say..." you faked a gasp as you bent down to pick up his socks. "lazy?"

"No," he swung a sock out at you, missing you by a few inches before bending over to put it back on as you walked over and placed some tape down for him to use. "So Cole..."

"Ugh, can we please not talk about him?" You groaned, putting the basket back into the cupboard. "I swear our that phone call gave me a migraine, so I don't need to hear your jokes."

"No, not that." he put on both shin guards before moving on to fixing his socks. "I just...does he always talk to you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, let me think," He put the tape down next to him before, getting off of the table. "Does, ‘are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?’ sound familiar?"

You stopped in front of the desk, looking at him and feeling your embarrassment start to take over. "Y-You heard that?"

He nodded his head towards the door and reached down for his skates, putting them back on. "So does he? Talk to you like that?"

You realized how cliche it would seem if you told Tyler that it was only when Cole was drunk, that he talked to you that way. But the last six months of your relationship had been a little hostile. Senior year was a pressure on both of you, but Cole seemed to be wearing it far worse than you. "He was drunk, what does it matter?"

"It matters because I have two younger sisters and I know for a fact that if one of their shitty boyfriends talked to them that way, he'd end up in an ER bed." He stood up off of the table and turned to pick up his warm-up jersey.

"Well good thing you're not my brother then, huh?" You joked, expecting him to make a comment back at you.

Instead, he looked a little lost in thought before he shook himself out of it, smiling at you. "Doesn't mean I still wouldn't put frat boy Cole in an ER bed."

You walked around the desk, plopping down into your chair as the murmuring of voices from down the hall echoed from the hallway. "Better get going, don't want to be late for the meeting."

"Yeah, I guess," Tyler tossed his jersey over his shoulder and headed towards the door, stopping in front of it. "Are you going tonight? To that party...with Cole?"

You looked up from your book, caught off guard by his question and the way he said it. For a moment, if you weren't convincing yourself that you were delusional. You'd think that Tyler looked...concerned or maybe even a bit genuinely curious about your nighttime plans.

You shrugged your shoulders, picking the book back up. "I don't know, maybe. There's usually some lingerie contest at this thing and the winner gets a $100 tab to some bar downtown, so maybe if I leave here in time."

You made sure to pay attention to the way he reacted to your response. His features darkened a little bit before he turned away from you walking out of the training room. You returned back to your book, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat. When you looked up, you saw Tyler leaning back in, a smile on his face. "Any chance I can get some pics?"

You threw the empty roll of tape on your desk in his direction and he ducked out of the way, laughing all the way down the hallway. "BYE Tyler!" You called out, returning back to your textbook.

As your eyes skimmed the words that your brain failed to absorb, a smile crept onto your face as you looked back up into the empty doorway. "No," you said, shaking your head and closing your eyes, following it with a deep breath. "No, absolutely not. Do not go there."

When you opened your eyes, a small sinking gut feeling took over when you looked into the empty hallway. Part of you wanted Tyler to reappear in the doorway with his goofy grin. But he wasn't there, and neither was his stupid request for lingerie pictures or his...amazingly stupid abs. What bothered you the most though, wasn't the fact that he wasn't standing there...but what he meant by his request.

Did he want lingerie pictures of the other contestants...or of you?

[birlcholtz]

Okay, I'll bite. How and why did you learn to code?

HI LIN thanks for biting this is a story that tells you quite a lot about me as a person

so some background: my parents are both in compsci. they're the late 80s, early 90s silicon valley crowd, they've both had their fair share of established companies and startup-hopping, and my brother and i grew up here

my brother is about 5 years older than me and took to coding like a fish to water (like a duck to water??) which is to say he started programming on scratch at the tender age of.... i don't even know, honestly, maybe 9? too young for me to really remember, and he's been a compsci prodigy ever since

but then. then there was me.

now i do love scratch. when i was little i always copied my brother (not in like a cute way, in a 'if he can do that i can do it too' mindset that meant my third grade teacher REALLY struggled to find book recommendations for me that i hadn't already read. since my brother was above his grade's reading level, and i would read whatever my brother read. yeah that's the kind of kid i was/am)

so naturally i did what he did. i programmed on scratch, i did advanced math courses, i was in CHESS CLUB (i am so bad at chess by the way. i am not good at it. let's establish that. i think i beat my dad once and i genuinely don't know if he let me win or not. i never beat my brother so in that respect i failed. but i'm better than my mom so there's that)

HOWEVER. around fourth or fifth grade i was like hey. maybe i want to like... forge my own identity. and not just turn my life into 'do whatever elder brother does BUT BETTER.'

and thus began my campaign to NEVER DO ANY CODING EVER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND WHILE I'M AT IT FUCK MATH

this gets long so there’s more under the cut sjflsghf

there are two problems with this. the first problem is my inherent pride and the fact that, despite my best efforts, i am actually decent at math and too proud to intentionally fuck it up. so i wound up in honors math. that made part 2 of my independence campaign a little difficult.

the second problem is that my parents were just as determined for me to learn to code as i was to avoid anything to do with coding for the rest of my life

(the third problem was actually a serious problem for this goal. and that was that in seventh grade, when i had a required compsci class where we learned basic, i found myself... enjoying it. HORROR OF HORRORS.)

so i was quite vocal about my anti-math stance and my determination to explore other avenues of life, to which my parents responded by listening with bat-ears whenever i talked about my compsci class and/or my love of spreadsheets so that they could jump on it and say 'YOU KNOW, COMPUTER PROGRAMMING IS JUST LIKE THAT, I THINK YOU WOULD REALLY ENJOY IT' whenever i said something remotely applicable

and to which i responded, of course, by plunging ever deeper into performing arts because fuck compsci, except when it's basic, because then i understand everything because of messing around w scratch when i was little and it's easy and i'm ahead of the rest of the class and can stare into space while the rest of them struggle with closing their parentheses (which is not to say i never messed up my parentheses. i totally did)

now, my brother, because he's a nerd, went to compsci summer camps where you'd spend a week or two learning some program or language. he did things like java and c++ and then would come home and use this knowledge for robotics club. like i said. nerd.

but my parents sensed a golden opportunity. namely, 'if we can get birl to go to these camps, she will actually learn programming things (not just being ahead of the class and spacing out in basic), and we'll probably get her to agree since it's only a week and she can do cost benefit analysis'

and, because i CAN do cost benefit analysis, i agreed to that deal. i'd go to a few of these camps, and then we'd agree that i was done with my parentally mandated computer science requirement. i learned some 3-d modeling, i learned to use unity (which involved some c+ as well), and i learned some java, and all was well. the camps were like 5 days long. we mostly worked on self-directed projects so i could do whatever the hell i wanted (and i made some pretty cool maze games if i do say so myself-- one of them in unity and one of them as a text-based game in java)

and.... horror of horrors....... i didn't hate it.

(of course i didn't want to go BACK any more than i had to but i also didn't hate every moment of those weeks)

so we were out of the woods right?

except no. we weren't.

because here's the thing. my high school ALSO had a computer science requirement. we had to take at least a semester. there were 3 levels offered: AP compsci, normal compsci, and then easy compsci (not its actual name) for the people who did not give a single shit

obviously i wanted to take the last one. my parents really wanted me to take AP but were willing to settle for normal. you will notice there was no overlap

i wrangled my way out of taking AP because that was a year-long course and i didn't have space in my schedule (my parents are wonderful in the sense that they didn't want to infringe on my actual interests to force me to do compsci which meant i had LEVERAGE)

but we literally wound up discussing it with the dean of students who was like 'well if you're capable of AP and just not taking it for schedule reasons then easy compsci would probably be boring for you!' which was an unhelpful take, thanks EVAN

but i did get my way by virtue of volunteering with a progressive tech organization in lieu of taking regular compsci, so i took easy compsci (in which i used scratch again, yay nostalgia, and also briefly flirted with html) and also wound up learning to use squarespace which is criminally easy but you can make it look like you're an expert

and all this while i was getting better and better with spreadsheets due to my own individual love for spreadsheets that near as i can tell, nobody in my family shares (my dad does have a lot of spreadsheets but his aren't as detailed as mine and he doesn't include data validation so HA)

all of which (plus my ap calc and stats classes) combines to mean that while i would not be able to just sit down and write you some code, if you give me access to stack overflow and tell me what language it's supposed to be in i can probably figure it out. especially now that i've become familiar with python by accident (well, more by my desire to write fic)

and because now i'm stuck in a rut, my current internship is with another civic tech company and that's probably what i'll wind up doing next summer as well. i don't actually work on software but i do comms which means i need to be able to have conversations with the engineers so i've been learning on the job. i know so much help

SO. with regards to my fic, my parents would both be thrilled because i taught myself some of a new programming language (python) and disappointed because i taught myself some of a new programming language with just stack overflow and some time and all i'm using it for is fic.

but near as i can tell we finished that battle long ago. it was a resounding victory for birl and i continue to expand my technical talents into areas like photo/video editing and CRM tools.

thank you very much *bows*

[ptersparkers]

at the end of the day (chapter one)

summary: there are two gigantic mysteries in your life and one of them includes peter parker not seeming to like you. you can stand him not being your friend but being in the same friend group? that should be easy, right?

a/n: sO i have this idea for a story in my head and there will be some slow updates coming but i’m excited about this one and lets HOPE i finish it hA. also i don’t know if this is gonna be more than a few “chapters” so we’ll see when i do with part two and i’ll decide from there! 💖

warnings: some angst but it’s not too serious

editied by: @jinxes-and-hexes! (everyone say ‘thank you’ because we all know i make too many typos).

masterlist / taglist / series masterlist

Peter Parker did not like you.

The reason? You didn’t know. You joined Midtown Tech your sophomore year and became friends with Peter’s “group” during February of the second semester. It was now the start of your junior year and you still couldn’t figure out why Peter had always given you the cold shoulder.

At first, you rationalized that he wasn’t keen on meeting new people. You got that, really, because meeting people you don’t know can make for an awkward situation and make people anxious overall. But weeks flew by and even MJ warmed up to you but the ever so bubbly Peter Parker that Ned was always talking about was nowhere in sight.

He was never outwardly mean to you but it was the little things you noticed. Like when he would scoot further away from you in the cafeteria or not invite you to a small get together if he was the one planning, even when you were with him. It was when he avoided eye contact and asked MJ to switch seats with him so he wouldn’t have to sit next to you in the backseat of Betty’s car and it was when he ignored you whenever you talked about the high marks you got on your biochemistry final.

You think that those subtle gestures hurt more than him telling you he doesn’t like you.

You hadn’t really spoken to Peter, per se. In the beginning, you both were trying to make awkward small talk for the sake of making friends, but when you clicked with Ned, Peter gave up. You quit trying a little later and you were positive the rest of your friend group tried to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You were accustomed to people not telling you things, but you wish you weren’t. You learned from your mother that it was best not to pry if people didn’t want to tell you something. After all, you learned you should never ask about your father when she had threatened to pull you out of Midtown Tech if you asked her about him one more time.

So when Peter completely stopped talking to you unless necessary, you didn’t bother asking him why he didn’t like you.

Not that you weren’t intrigued by the reasoning behind it, if any at all, but you were in no place to ask him because you didn’t really know him and you had just met him that year. Talk about an awkward situation.

So you’d sit in the cafeteria and laugh at Ned’s Star Wars puns and peek over MJ’s shoulders when she’s reading or on her phone, and listen intently to Betty’s school gossip to distract yourself from looking at Peter. You felt so uncomfortable and awkward knowing one person in your friend group wasn’t making an effort to be your friend.

But you pulled through because you hadn’t managed to become close with other people like you had with this group and you weren’t about to let one bad seed ruin the bunch.

“I think I failed the Spanish quiz,” Ned said with a sigh.

“Oh, why’s that?” you asked.

“I tried to remember everything I studied but nothing worked. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he said, groaning.

“I’m sure Anna wouldn’t mind tutoring you,” you suggested. “She helped MJ get pretty good test results.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Ned said dramatically as he gripped the straps of his backpack. “I gotta run to a doctor’s appointment. See you tomorrow?”

“See ya!” you said with a two-finger salute. You turned around in the opposite direction to walk home when you collided with Peter.

“O-Oh,” you said, regaining your balance. “Sorry Peter.”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly before walking away and ducking his head, not making eye contact with you once. You sighed, not expecting anything less but still disappointed in the outcome.

“He’s being weird,” MJ commented. “I think this is one mystery I can’t solve.”

“Great,” you said, exasperated. “You’re the most perceptive person I know and if you can’t figure out what’s wrong with Peter, no one can.”

“He’s been a bit strange, lately,” said MJ. “Disconnected, for sure. He leaves us a lot and backs out of plans last minute. Peter didn’t use to do that but after getting that Stark Internship, he’s been at Stark’s beck and will.”

“Oh, right, the internship,” you said. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”

“None of us would. He doesn’t talk about it and when he does, his job description seems to be all over the place. I mean, who fetches coffee and works with technology?” she asked rhetorically. “It’s whatever. Don’t take it too personally, okay?”

“It’s hard when he literally ignores me all the time,” you said, falling into step with MJ.

“The kid’s weird.”

“You guys are the same age.”

“I’m wise. Like, in my seventies, wise.”

“Touché,” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, MJ.”

***

You sat against the bed frame with a pillow propped up against your back, an iced coffee by your nightstand, and your computer on your lap. The bottom was warm after long use but you paid no attention as your eyes scanned the monitor. A digital copy of your birth certificate sat right in front of you with your mother’s name, your name, but no father listed. The blank space filled your thoughts with doubt and curiosity.

You didn’t know where to look. Being that your mother despised talking about your father, she gave you a copy of your birth certificate to prove that your father was a no-good person and she meant for that to be a reminder that you didn’t need to worry about him. But it fueled your interest even more.

You weren’t sure where you got your love for computer science from, but you were able to type on a keyboard at an early age. Add in a few extra classes during summertime at a community college, and you were good to go. Now, you were skilled enough to locate backdoor entrances to mainframes and encrypted hotlines in order to access data that wasn’t being shown to the public. Was it legal? Perhaps, perhaps not. It was still a gray area but you didn’t venture very far when you had accidentally gained access to Midtown’s security system and found out you could change student information from your computer at home, much like Ferris Bueller did when he lowered the amount of days he had been absent.

With this knowledge, you tried everything you could. Whether that be trying a family lineage website or hacking into your hospital medical records (to no avail), everything seemed to turn up empty and lead you down a path that was always cold.

You had considered asking the Avengers for help, but you didn’t know if they made house calls or responded to teenage girls who wanted to know who their father was. You didn’t think your conundrum, compared to what they dealt with, was that important.

So, you sighed and closed your laptop in frustration with yet another afternoon of relentless curiosity that led you nowhere. You sipped on your iced coffee from the metal straw before hearing a slurping sound and put the cup on the stand, telling yourself you’d take care of it later and decided to take a short nap, dreaming of two things: finding the identity of your father and finding out why Peter didn’t like you.

Across town, Peter and Ned were casually hanging out in Peter’s bedroom when Ned asked a question.

“How come you don’t like Y/N?”

Peter looked at him with surprise.

“W-What do you mean? Of course I like Y/N. She hangs out with us all the time.”

“Yeah, but you never talk to her,” he pointed out. “And when she tries to talk to you, you try to cut the conversation short or try to avoid her altogether. That’s weird, man.”

“I do not,” Peter said. Ned gave him a look. “I just don’t think we click.”

“How would you know that? You’ve never spent time with her alone and you don’t talk to her.”

“Call it a gut feeling,” he muttered.

“Peter, that’s really unfair to Y/N because you’re not giving her a chance to prove herself. You’re judging her without getting to know her.”

“Can we just drop it, Ned?” Peter pleaded. “You sound like MJ and I don’t need to be scolded today.”

Ned sighed, obviously torn between wanting to respect his best friend’s wishes, but also trying to put you in a good light because he genuinely cares for you. He was in the crossfire and in an awkward spot but he knew that he didn’t want to lose either of you any time soon.

“Maybe you should ask her to hang out.”

“Ned,” Peter said, more sternly this time.

“Okay, okay. No more Y/N talk, got it.”

There was an awkward minute of silence before Ned spoke up again.

“So, uh, how are things going with your Spider-Man gig?”

“Pretty good,” Peter said, his mood changing almost instantly. Ned was grateful that he was distracted with Spider-Man talk. “Mr. Stark’s upgrading my suit a little and he’s updating Karen, adding some defensive-combat skills. I don’t really know what that means but he said he’d show me this weekend.”

“Being an Avenger must be so cool.”

Peter became flustered. “I mean, it’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe I can meet Tony one day. What do you say?” Peter gave him a look. “One day,” he said nonchalantly. “Do you think Y/N likes the Avengers?”

“Ned,” Peter said sternly. “I don’t want to talk about Y/N right now, okay? If you really need to know, something about her rubs me the wrong way and until I can figure out why, it’s for the best.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Oh yeah,” said Peter, sarcastically. “Like she’s going to tell me. What if she tells me a lie?”

“You have a point,” he said. “Well, do I stop talking to her?”

Peter sighed. “Do what you want, man. All I’m saying is we can’t trust her.”

“Is this Peter or Spider-Man talking?”

“I don’t know,” Peter confessed. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I think you’re thinking way too deeply into this,” Ned began. “You’ve barely spoken to her and you’ve done nothing to figure out why you hate her so much.”

“I don’t hate her,” Peter replied.

“Well, it sure looks like it. I can see that she gets a little hurt when you don’t invite her to things and MJ and I have to cover for you and say we didn’t know you didn’t invite her.”

“What can I do, Ned?” Peter asked. “Everything in me is telling me not to trust her because she’s got some weird thing going on with her.”

“And you would know if you spent more time with her,” Ned suggested. “Look, I’m not asking you to become her best friend, but she’s been a part of our friend group since last semester and you’re giving her the cold shoulder.”

“It’s probably for a good reason.”

“No, you’re just being a dumb teenager, Peter.”

“So you don’t believe me?”

Ned shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to believe. I’ve never doubted you and I’m not doubting you now, but you’re not giving Y/N the benefit of the doubt, and you’re making assumptions without even getting to know her. Even MJ likes her.”

“Okay, I guess you made a point. And yeah, if MJ liked her right off the bat then I guess that counts for something.” Ned smiled and held up his hand for a high-five.

“There you go! I’m sure Spider-Man will figure something out, but Peter Parker needs to be a good friend. She seems so defeated whenever you’re around because she knows you don’t like her.”

“I don’t not like her. I’m just…cautious.”

“You being cautious has never worked well for anyone,” Ned said, rolling his eyes. “But then again, neither has being reckless. Just stick in the gray area, okay? You can operate there.”

“Jesus, you even sound like Mr. Stark,” Peter said, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

“Wanna grab some sandwiches from Delmar’s? I’m kind of starving right now.”

“You read my mind.”

***

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