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homoose · 4 years

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Quick Learner, Slow Lover: Part II

Summary: Literally just a 40 Year Old Virgin AU. This time, reader shows Spencer a whole new world of possibilities.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut, 18 + (minors DNI)

Warnings/Includes: oral (both receiving), fingering, I think that’s it actually

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: Huge thanks to all the babies on my sideblog @softspence for helping with the inspiration for this one, and @gubetube for being my beta! ♥️ virgin!Spence is near and dear to my heart.

Series Masterlist

———

After their first escapade, Spencer was called away on a case in southern California. A week into the BAU’s investigation in the desert didn’t have them any closer to solving it, and the team retreated to their respective hotel rooms for a few hours of rest. The second his head hit the pillow, Spencer’s phone was out and dialing.

She picked up on the third ring, stifling a yawn. “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry it’s so late,” he apologized.

“It’s okay.” He could hear her snuggling down under the covers. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” He brought one of the hotel pillows closer, cuddling up against it and letting out a sigh. “I was thinking we could go to that new restaurant around the corner from you when I get back to DC.”

“Mmm, yeah, that sounds nice,” she agreed. He heard her sigh a little into the phone, then she continued, “We could also, um— try some more things.”

His head was constantly full of their first night together, and he basically had not stopped thinking about more things since he’d come in his pants on the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good, because the possibilities are endless, Dr. Reid.”

He let his eyes close, let a smile play over his features, and let his mind relax for a second… and then his eyes were shooting open, and his brain was on overdrive, running through the pieces of the case in rapid succession. “I— I think I just figured something out. I— I have to go. I’ll— can I call you later?”

She laughed a little on the other end. “Go save some lives, Spence.”

The team stumbled off the jet less than 24 hours later, exhausted but more than satisfied with the outcome of the case— in large part thanks to Spencer’s late night epiphany.

“O’Keefe’s for a round?” Luke asked. “First one’s on me.”

There were murmurs of agreement from everyone... except Spencer. “Sorry, guys— rain check,” he called, already halfway across the bullpen and pulling on his jacket. He was through the double doors before anyone could ask any questions.

He loved the team, and he’d come to enjoy nights out with them, but right now he had more pressing matters to deal with. As he navigated the darkened streets of DC, he considered the predicament he’d found himself in. They were going on two months of official dating, but they’d been sort of seeing each other for nearly a month before that.

Even before he’d met her, Penelope had gushed about her constantly— a wonderful friend that she’d made through her new job, kind and smart and funny and lovely. What Penelope hadn’t mentioned was how beautiful she was— and he’d subsequently made a fool of himself when they first met: staring and stumbling over his words.

She hadn’t seemed to mind, and over the course of the evening, she’d proven to be every bit as lovely as Penelope had described, and then some.

He pulled up outside her apartment, shutting the door and hauling himself and his go-bag out of the car and up the sidewalk. He ran a slightly self conscious hand over his hair, checked his appearance in the glass of the foyer door, and then buzzed her apartment.

She buzzed him in, and he took the stairs two at a time, rounding the landing just to see her opening the door. The second he dropped his bag, he was wrapping her up in a hug and knocking the breath out of her. She expelled the air into his shoulder and then laughed as he clung to her.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she teased.

“I missed you,” he murmured, too content to be embarrassed.

Her arms came around him, and she squeezed him tight in response. “I missed you, too.” She held onto him for a moment longer before pulling back. “You must be exhausted. Are you hungry?”

Almost as if on cue, his stomach growled loud enough for them both to hear it. She cackled at his sheepish smile. “Chinese, Indian, or pizza?”

…

An hour later, they were two slices deep and cuddled together on the couch at the end of an episode of Dr. Who. She was tucked under his arm, her warm palm low on his tummy, her thumb rubbing a slow, repetitive path. As the credits rolled, she lifted her head to smile at him. “Tired?”

“A little.” His brain couldn’t focus on anything other than the warmth of her body pressed up against him, her hand so close to where he was desperate for her. He wanted her, but he didn’t know how to ask. “We can… try some things, though,” he decided on.

She brushed his hair back and met his eyes. “We don’t have to. Just because we did, doesn’t mean we’re obligated to every time we’re together.” She tilted her head. “You know that, right?”

He could feel the flush flooding his cheeks immediately, and he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course.” Of course she didn’t want to do anything more with him. He was probably terrible at it before, and she just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He shifted to stand from the couch, gathering up their plates and turning to bring them to the kitchen, desperate for a minute to collect himself.

He could feel her eyes on him. “Spence?” He set the plates in the sink, taking a deep breath and then turning to see that she’d followed him. She pressed her lips together, considering him with kind eyes. “You wanna let me in on whatever it is you’re thinking?”

He hesitated, tapping his fingers on the tops of his thighs, before deciding he should just come out with it. “I know I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to… sex.” The last part came out in a low murmur— it seemed lewd to discuss this in the middle of her kitchen. “I’m sorry it wasn’t very good for you, and I’m not exactly sure how to fix that, but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she chuckled. “Slow your roll. When did I ever say it wasn’t good for me?”

The memory of her— in his lap, her head thrown back, his fingers on her, his name falling from her lips— was suddenly on repeat in his mind. “I, um— I guess you didn’t.”

“I definitely didn’t,” she confirmed, stepping a little closer. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about it… a lot.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You have?”

“Mmhmm.” She brought her hand back to his tummy, just above his waistband, then ran it up the line of buttons on his shirt, stopping just above his heart. She met his gaze with soft eyes. “I just didn’t want you to think that— that sex is all I want to do with you. Or that you have to rush to make me happy. And it’s important that you know that if you’re tired, or overwhelmed, or just not in the mood, I don’t— you know, expect you to have sex with me.”

His heart leapt into his throat at the way she curled her fingers in his collar, the way she smiled quietly while he collected his thoughts, the way she gave him grace and space to consider his wants and needs. He was dangerously in love already, and he wasn’t sure quite how to say it without being the stupid virgin who fell in love with the first person he slept with.

And even with all of these thoughts of content and love and uncertainty swirling through his brain… he still really wanted to fuck her.

“I’m not that tired,” he breathed.

Her smile turned mischievous, and he swallowed audibly. “Well, then. We can start working through those possibilities?”

He was on her before she even finished the question, his mouth hot and hungry, his tongue sliding against hers, his hands on her waist and steering her toward her bedroom. She grinned as he trailed kisses down her throat and then where her t-shirt cut low along her collarbone. She turned them as they made it to the bed and pushed him to sit, breaking his mouth away from where it had been sucking a pretty pink mark.

She dropped to her knees and ran a firm hand over his cock through his trousers. He was wholly and completely unprepared for the sight of her looking up at him from in between his legs, and he momentarily forgot any and all plans he’d had. She paused to push her hair back out of her face, and he came to his senses.

“Wait.” She looked up at him, slightly confused. “I wanted to, um—”

When he didn’t continue, she tilted her head with an encouraging smile. “You wanted to what?”

“I wanted to, um— eat you out,” he said, and he could feel the flush in his ears. “Before. Because I get kind of sleepy after I come, and I— well, I can already tell I’m not gonna last long once you start, um…”

“Blowing you?” she prompted, and now she was just teasing him.

“Y-yeah.” He ran a nervous hand down his neck. “Is that okay?”

She stood up and stepped closer into his space, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head back slightly. “Well, that depends. Did you read up on the literature?”

He returned her teasing smile, already more at ease. “You know I did.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back to pull her shirt up over her head. She smirked at the way his eyes went wide and traveled over her form. His mouth dropped open as he tracked her hands, running down over her bare chest, her torso, and then to the waistband of her sweatpants. She pushed the pants down over her hips and let them pool at her feet, stepping out and back in between his legs. “So, what did the experts say?”

He swallowed audibly as she brought his hands to her chest. “Well, um,” he started, palms cupping her breasts. “Um, firstly— start slow. And vary— vary your attention,” he said, squeezing them lightly and brushing his thumbs over her hardened nipples.

He looked up at her face for guidance, and she smiled. “Then by all means— give me all the attention.”

He leaned forward immediately, tongue and teeth sucking and grazing and nipping at the soft skin of her breasts. He alternated between the two, drew each nipple into his mouth and moaned a little around them at the way she gasped when his teeth dragged on her skin. Her hands found purchase in his curls, tangling and tugging and holding him against her. He brought a hand down to her waist and pulled her in closer, slid his palm over her lace-covered ass and dug his fingers in, eliciting a very pretty sound from her throat.

He pressed his mouth once more to the valley in between her breasts, then stood and brought his hands to her face, leaning down to meet her in a soft kiss. He turned to have her sit back on the bed, and she stretched out over the pillows and pulled him down over her. He kissed her again, and then dragged his mouth down the column of her throat.

“Secondly,” he continued, “work your way down.” He did just that, his lips and tongue drawing out goosebumps and shivers as he moved down her body. When he reached the waistband of her underwear, he hooked his fingers into it, and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull them down her legs.

He started a path back up her legs, kissing her ankles, her shins, her knees. He ghosted his fingers over her thigh, silently asking for permission to continue. She let her legs fall open, and he made himself comfortable in between them. The reality hit him then— that as she opened her legs, she also opened herself up to him— all the most vulnerable and precious parts of her. His breath caught in his throat as he found her gaze on him, soft and sweet and steady.

He turned his head to kiss a path along her inner thigh, moving closer and closer to her center. He fanned his warm breath over her, and then he licked carefully around the hood of her clit, gentle at first. He flattened his tongue on either side of it, then pointed it to flick across once, twice, three times. Her hand immediately came down to tangle in his hair, and her hips twitched as he dragged his tongue flat over it.

“I don’t really understand the phenomenon of men being unable to find the clitoris,” he remarked, and then closed his mouth around it.

She let out a long, low moan when he sucked it between his lips, and her grip on his hair tightened. He alternated the suction with the swirl of his tongue around the hood, and she squirmed against the bed. He laid his forearm low across her hips to keep her still, and then he brought his thumb up to swipe at her entrance, and he moaned around her at the feel.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he breathed. He brought his thumb, slick with her arousal, up to her clit and rubbed firm circles over it. “How’s that for pressure? Too hard?”

“N-no, oh— Spence, oh my god,” she whined.

“Do you prefer to rub side to side or in a circle?” He demonstrated each option, and she choked out his name again.

She drew in a shaky inhale, exhaled out, “Both, both, both.”

He sucked an open mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, then looked up to see her staring at him. “Do you like penetration? Or just clitoral stimulation?” he asked, stroking his thumb side to side over her clit.

She huffed out a breath. “You— god, you can finger me.”

He popped his index finger into his mouth, slicking it with spit and thinking of everything he’d read about it. He teased the pad of his finger around her slit, gathering up the wetness that had spilled out of her. “I’ll start with one? Make sure it’s slicked up, and then you can tell me if you’d like me to add another?”

She hummed in agreement, and he began to press inside of her. She took his finger easily, and he dropped his forehead to her thigh. “God, you’re— you’re so tight.” He withdrew his finger and then slipped it back in, groaning at the slickness. “Can you, um— can you tell me if this is— is this doing anything for you?” He probed gently, searching for the spot inside her that he knew might actually be difficult to find.

“Um— up, up,” she gasped. “Like, curl it up toward the ceiling and then sort of dra-a-a-g, oh, oh, oh.”

He followed her directions, curling his finger up and dragging it on the out stroke, and she was throwing her head back with a moan of his name. He repeated the motion over and over and then brought his mouth back to her clit. Both her hands came down to yank at his hair, and he groaned, causing her hips to jerk against his mouth.

“M-more, Spence, more, so close,” she whined.

When he withdrew his finger, he slipped a second one in beside it and then continued the curl-drag-thrust pattern while sucking and swirling his tongue around her clit. Her moans increased in frequency and volume, and he felt her squeeze impossibly tight around his fingers. He rutted into the bed as her grip on his hair held him still against her clit as she came.

She let out a final gasp of his name, and then she relaxed around him and her grip on his hair went slack. He slipped his fingers out of her, stared at them in relative awe as they glistened with her come. He sucked them into his mouth to clean them off, relatively surprised by how much he enjoyed the taste. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her, cleaning her up and savoring the way she lingered in his mouth.

“Shit, Spence,” she mumbled, grasping at his shoulder. “C’mere.”

He lifted his head and wiped his forearm across his chin. He watched her eyes go a little wide, and then she was dragging him up her body and crashing their mouths together. “You are so fucking hot,” she whispered. “I cannot believe you’ve never done that before. Such a good listener, baby.”

His hips canted forward desperately at the praise, and she sighed happily against his mouth. “Wanna blow you.”

She pushed gently at his chest and he sat back to let her up. She slid off the bed and tugged on his hand to move him to sit with his legs off the side. “Can we take some things off?” she asked, gesturing to his fully clothed form.

He nodded, and she popped the button on his trousers while he started on the button up. They made quick work of both, and she dragged his pants and underwear down in one motion. He shrugged out of his shirt and she took a step back to take him in.

“You’re so pretty, Spence.” She dragged her finger up from his knee, over his thigh, the trail of hair on his tummy, his chest, his throat— her eyes tracking the motion. He watched her face as she did so, the way her pupils dilated with lust and her tongue came out to wet her lips. She finally settled on his face, smiling and leaning forward to press her lips to his.

When she broke the kiss, she brought both hands up to cradle his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. If anything doesn’t feel good, just say so. You can put your hands on my head, pull my hair, whatever you like. If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

“Okay,” he rasped.

She kissed him again, and then dropped to her knees and took him in hand. The vision of her— naked, post-orgasm, looking up at him with his cock poised at her mouth— was so absolutely and gloriously filthy that he almost came on the spot.

“You’re so big, Spence.” The wonderment seeped into her voice, and he couldn’t help but swell a little with pride. Her warm palm stroked over him, root to tip, and he fisted his hands in the duvet. “What was step one again?” she asked.

“Um. S-start slow,” he recalled.

She hummed in agreement, and then trailed the fingers of her free hand over the inside of his thigh. She turned her mouth to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the other, slowly inching up closer to where she held him in her hand.

“Your skin is soft,” she murmured. Her nose brushing against the crease of this thigh. She switched sides, moved his cock into her other hand to trail her fingers over where her mouth had been. She sucked a mark into his thigh and then dragged her tongue over it, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

And then she shifted back to the center, flattened her tongue, and ran it up the vein on the underside of his cock. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

She huffed out a laugh and the way her warm breath cooled the trail of spit she’d left had him shivering. “God, this is gonna be so fun,” she murmured.

She held his cock up straight with one hand and repeated the motion of her tongue twice more, and then pressed a kiss to the tip. She held her tongue out flat and rubbed it along the underside of the head, running it along the divide between the tip and the shaft. And then she closed her mouth around the head and swirled her tongue around it, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets, and then he felt her free hand tug at his fist. He opened his eyes as she guided his fingers into her hair. She locked eyes with him and then sucked gently on the tip of his cock. He fisted his hand and tugged, and she closed her eyes and moaned around him.

The vibration of her voice had his hips thrusting forward a little into her mouth, and she pulled back with a grin. He couldn’t even form the words to apologize before she was licking down his shaft and murmuring, “Mm, and vary the attention, right?”

With that, she laved her tongue over his balls, slicking them up with her spit. He realized he’d been holding his breath, sucking in a gasp as she sucked one of them into her mouth. She hummed around it and then let it out with a soft pop, moving to draw the other one in. He hadn’t even considered that he would enjoy having his balls in her mouth, but now that they were there he knew he’d literally never stop thinking about it.

She pulled back to take a breath, bringing a hand up to cup and massage his balls and stroke over his length at the same time. “Step two?” she prompted, looking up at him from in between his legs.

“Work your way down,” he reminded her, petting over her hair in awe.

“Ah, yes.” She brought her mouth back to the tip, sticking out her tongue and rubbing it along the sensitive spot just under the head. She kept her mouth open and held him in hand, alternating between wet kisses and swirling her tongue. And then she sucked it into her mouth, still moving her tongue back and forth as she started to sink further down his length.

In his mind, he was singing her praises from the metaphorical rooftops, but in reality, her mouth was so hot and wet that all he could do was stare stupidly at the way his cock disappeared between her lips. She continued to massage his slick balls in her free hand as she took him in, inch by inch. Each time she pulled back to suckle the head, she stroked the circle of her other hand over the spit-covered length of him.

On the next pass down, he felt the head of his cock press into the back of her throat, and his hands shot to her hair, holding tight. “Holy shit, Y/N, I—” he choked on the rest of the sentence as she took him an inch further, then simultaneously sucked and pulled back to the tip.

She tapped the tip of his cock to her spit-slick smile, kissing it teasingly. “Do you wanna tell me what to do?”

“M-more of that,” he begged, watching as she dragged her lips down the side of his cock.

She chuckled, and the way it buzzed against the side of his cock had him short of breath. “Yeah— I thought you’d like that.” She pumped his length with her hand and then held her tongue out flat, bobbing her head until he hit the back of her throat.

When she pulled back, he watched a trail of spit drip down her chin, and felt his cock twitch at the idea of her quite literally drooling over him. He barely resisted the urge to pinch his thigh, not willing to wake himself up if this was actually a dream. He brought a hand to her chin and used his thumb to gather the spit, and then brought it up to suck it into his mouth.

Her mouth dropped open as she watched him swallow, and he briefly began to panic, but then she was surging upward to slot her mouth over his in a hot kiss. “How is everything you do so fucking hot?” she murmured against his lips.

“I could say the same for you,” he countered, kissing her again.

“I want you to come in my mouth, okay?” she asked.

He nodded vigorously. “Shit, yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t hold back,” she demanded, and then she was dropping back down to take him in again.

She left her mouth open, tongue laid flat, and took him into her throat— once, twice, three times. She choked around him and then pulled back to take a breath. She repeated this pattern again, and again, occasionally sucking on the head or even grazing her teeth just so. Spencer held her head between his hands, staring down at her with reverence. He couldn’t stop the litany of praise falling from his lips— mostly just gasps and moans of her name, but occasionally he found the mental capacity for so beautiful, or perfect mouth, or so good, baby.

He could feel his orgasm drawing closer with every press into her throat, so incredibly tight that it was dizzying. She pulled all the way off to jerk his cock, a tight circle of her fingers gliding along his length with a squelching sound. She squeezed the base of him, dropped her hand to tug at his balls, and sunk her mouth down his length, holding him in her throat and swallowing, moaning low and long around him.

She looked up at him then, and it was that which finally brought him over the edge— not that she was on her knees with his cock in her throat, but that she didn’t look away as he came undone. The fact that she was paying such close attention to him coupled with the trust and vulnerability required for this moment was too much to handle. His orgasm hit him like a train, his toes curling and fingers twitching in her hair as he came. She continued swallowing around him, and he fought to keep his eyes open, not willing to miss a single second of this moment.

When he was finished, she slowly drew back, sucking gently along his softening length and pressing a kiss to the head. He did close his eyes then, cradling her head in his hands and rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks. She used his thighs as leverage to pull herself up, and he heard her suck in a sharp breath. His eyes shot open to see her rubbing at her knees— red and a little raw.

“I’m sorry, I should have— I could have gotten you a pillow.” He pulled her closer and replaced her hands with his own, soothing the marks.

She laughed and brushed a reassuring hand over his hair. “Occupational hazard.”

The scratchy rasp of her voice had his cock twitching. “I know I don’t have anything to compare it to, but you’re unbelievably good at that.”

She brought her hands to his face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “You’re not the only one who reads the literature.”

Her even tone and steady gaze proved she wasn’t teasing or mocking, and he fell just a little bit deeper in love. He met her halfway in a kiss that was infinitely and luminously sweet and wondered just what in the world he was going to do about that.

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid

Series tags: @cielo1984 @dorotheuh @foreveryoungxx3 @happyreid187 @harrystylesholland @seasonfivereid @slut4spencie @kyomito

Broken tags: @radtwinkie

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid

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mental-dilemma · 4 years

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A Quick Meeting Part 4?

Damian’s an exchange student in Paris taking it easy until an Akuma attacks and he gets to meet ladybug. -----------------------------------------

Ok before everyone starts pancking: I am Emu-Lumberjack I just decided to create a Sideblog for all my writing so that way those who follow me exclusively for that don’t have to deal with the chaos that is my main blog

also I’m sorry it’s taken so long to post this but just between school and work and school and just general exhaustion it’s been hard for me to write.

and as always all credit to the Au goes to @ozmav

pt.1

pt. 2

pt. 3

“I don’t suppose I could bribe you to drop the matter.” Damian said sitting down in Tim’s office. He and Ladybug were situated next to each other while Tim was on the other side of the desk.

“Nope.” He turned to Ladybug, “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, making sure Damian didn’t disappear and all that. Anyway I’m Tim Drake, Co-Ceo of Wayne enterprises and Damians older brother.”

Ladybug turned to Damian and quietly said, “So does everyone in your family constantly talk like they’re trying to impress a victorian lord?” Damian snorted. Tim, unable to hear what she just said, looked to the two agape.

“At least I have a reason.” Damian responded, this time loudly enough for his elder brother to hear. “Anyway Tim is in CEO mode right now, which is pretty rare. Usually he’s a bumbling zombie dependent on coffee to function. In fact I remember one time when Dick took the last cup he----”

“I’d suggest stopping right there or I’ll tell her about the batcow incident.” Tim interrupted.

“Did you just say batcow? Because I understand each of those words separately.” Ladybug said, and even though her mask still concealed half her face Damian could tell she was really confused.

“Don’t ask. Just don’t.” Damian said quietly.

“Anyway. I never caught your name and considering the fact that your in a mask I assume you’re a hero. Which is surprising because none of us knew Paris had heroes.” Tim cut the two of them off before more could be said.

“Yes that’s becoming a common theme I’m finding,” Marinette began. “My name is Ladybug in the mask. I have a partner, Chat Noir, but he’s currently indisposed, something about paint in his hair.” Damian stifled a laugh as Marinette continued, “We have been operating out of Paris for the last few years, early on we tried contacting the Justice league but Green Lantern told us not to prank call him.”

“Oh did he now.” Tim said, leaning his head forward.

“Yes he did. Thankfully my power allows me to reverse all damage done during a fight. Including any lives lost or monuments destroyed.”

“That sounds like a very useful power. I'm sure that the heroes of Gotham would love to work with you.” There was a twinkle in his eye that Damian knew meant Tim was concocting some scheme. He was about to jump in, but Marinette got there first.

“Yes I’m sure you would but the issue is we currently have our hands full here although from what Damian told me you guys sound much more fun to work with. At least the villains have better costumes.”

Tim noting her wording turned to Damian, “Did you tell her the family secret? You know what Alfred will do if he finds out.”

Damian smirked “I’m not an idiot Drake this was all her. She could rival you for deductive reasoning.” Marinette just sat there looking innocent.

“Well that explains why the two of you were sneaking around together, Ladybug should I assume Damian knows your identity as well?”

“Yep.”

“Well this is going to be a nightmare. But this just means I can formally invite you to Gotham at least. Ha just leave it to the Ice Prince to leak the identity on his first civilian trip abroad.” Tim leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“Actually it was you guys who tipped me off.”

Tim suddenly opened his eyes and looked her straight in the eyes. “Come again.”

“Well it was the fact that no one had spied Robin around Batman while Damian was in France. Then the fact that you were patrolling rather than him tipped me off that Robin might be on a vacation..” Tim just face palmed.

“Of course that would happen, how did we not see it coming.” He muttered to himself. “Wait, that begs another question: how did you two meet.”

Damian blushed and before Ladybug could respond he said “not important, there was an akuma. Now do you need anything else.”

“Actually yeah. Ladybug you mentioned the video you sent to Green Lantern, well Batman found it and wanted us to investigate. He didn’t know Green Lantern had seen it or otherwise he’d be on his way back to Ooa healing from a scolding from Alfred. Dick and Jason wanted to come but Bruce needed someone he could send discreetly and who better than the Co-CEO of Wayne industries who could just be checking up on the Paris branch.” Ladybug was impressed by the scheming having Dick Greyson or Jason Todd come in would stir up villain or media activity but Tim the third son wouldn’t.

“Well if you want we can meet up with my partner later and you can formulate a list of questions. Plus it seems you and Damian have some catching up to do.”

“There was a reason I came to Paris Ladybug. Being forced to talk to Tim was not one of them.” Damian made to leave only for a yoyo to catch his leg. Ladybug smirked at him. “Maybe a five minute chat couldn’t hurt anyone. Family reunion and all that.”

“Great then as long as everyones in agreement I can set up a time with chat later this evening for all of us to talk things through and get a strategy in place.”

“Are you sure about this having the league involved is going to cause a lot of chaos and even more dangerous villains could target Paris.”

“Tim I have dealt with so much crap the last couple of years that at this point I will take Darkseid over Lila…… Oh crap. We forgot about Lila.” Marinette looked at Damian who was coming to the same realization she was. He called out Lila in the bakery, and outed himself as a Wayne.

“Do I want to know?” Tim said rubbing his temples. He did not miss highschool.

“Lets just say school tomorrow’s going to be interesting, and I think we’re going to have to put the meeting on hold till after it. Ladybug and I are going to need to deal with school tomorrow, and caffeine isn’t gonna cut it.” Damian said.

“Then again if we aren’t lucid tomorrow might not be so bad….” Marinette began

“Do not even finish that, you even more than me need sleep. Between fashion, school and heroing you function off an hour.”

“You.. have a point. I’ll brief Chat on the situation on my way home. In the meantime I’ll leave you too to the brotherly bonding I’m sure you need.” she pulled her yoyo from her pocket, “See you tomorrow Damian, and whatever plan you hatch up make sure nit doesn’t include killing anyone.”

“Goodnight Ma--- Ladybug. And no promises.” The boy caught himself before revealing Ladybug's identity. She gave him the look of ‘don’t fuck up my secret identity bird boy’ before jumping out the window to run from rooftop to rooftop.

“So. how long have you had a crush on her.” Tim pulled Damians attention, and Damian was sudden;y very glad he had said nothing about not killing his brother.

--------------------------------------

“Do you think they’ll actually help this time?” Chat’s voice rang over the phone, Marinette had stopped behind one of the chimneys to talk to him in private.

“I don’t know, at least now they are actually considering it rather than just brushing us off as children.” Marinette was tired but they needed to have this chat now, there wouldn’t be any chance to in class tomorrow.

“Yeah, just don’t get your hopes up. They left us to fend for ourselves for 3 years and are only doing this now because of Damian if you didn’t know him then none of this would’ve happened.

“Ok but why does that matter that it’s Damian? They could’ve been doing it because of Jon too.”

“Oh please, you're more dense than our class sometimes. Jon would’ve noted it then forgotten to tell someone, but Damian told Batman right away. Why do you think he did that?”

“Chat I am too tired for this.” Marinette could feel Adrien facepalming through the phone.

“Oh I am not spelling this out for you, this time you get to figure it out yourself.”

“Fine. but next time you need help on your calc homework don’t come running to me.” Marinette hung up on him and made her way home. The parisian streets were nice and quiet for her, no akuma meant maybe another hour of sleep.

Once she was out of the suit she let Tikki rest and got right to work on the new piece she was making for Jagged, he wanted to somehow have the score of his newest piece sewn onto the pants for his next concert, and she had to brainstorm.

Twenty minutes went by.

Then an hour.

Then two.

Finally she put up her pencil and put on her pajamas, as she was falling asleep Adriens words kept replaying in her head, and the meaning slammed into her like a truck. Pulling out her phone she sent one message.

Oh fuck off

tag list: @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @yuulxd @smolplantmum @inarachi02 @notmycupoftea26 @laurcad123 @unknownvsworld @jeminiikrystal @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#The dilemma writes #Maribat #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Damianette #Damientte #Chat noir #Kwamii #fics #fanfic #myfic #damian x marinette #platonic ladynoir #platonic adrienette

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Girl on Fire (Ninex) - Ashley

A/N: Nina finally starts to believe she is more than just a sidekick in other people’s fairy tales. Only her dream night is cut short when she is dragged away by her drunk best friend as soon as the clock strikes one-thirty. Monet is sick of pining after her straight best friend and thinks she’s finally found someone who steals her heart away. However, she doesn’t have any idea what her name is. (10k words)

Here goes my submission for the Black Girl Magic challenge, I had so much fun writing this and hope you guys enjoy - think of it as Cinderella in 2020. It is set in the same universe as Got My Number (Branjie fic) however you do not have to have read that to read this. Would love any comments/feedback/concrit anyone has and if anyone would just like to chat my sideblog is @artificialashley. Big thanks to Meggie for betaing this like a legend <3 Hope everyone is as well and as safe as they can be in these current times xoxo

It was safe to say that Nina had been placing her friends’ needs above her own for a long time. She didn’t know when it had started; be it the time she let Brooke swap roles with her last-minute before their drama exam in school, or every time she’d acted as a false alibi for Yvie during her secret rendezvous with a private school girl from the other side of the town, but it had been happening for a while.

This wasn’t something she felt guilty about, not something she would change for the world. Only every now and again the tiniest part of her brain wondered why she couldn’t be the one to have the Disney princess storyline, why she was always stuck as the bumbling sidekick, there to push forward someone else’s narrative. That was how she usually ended off feeling on nights out.

With Brooke sloppily dancing with a boy to her right and Yvie’s mind clearly elsewhere, Nina figured she might as well accept that this night wouldn’t be spent exactly how she’d pictured and try to enjoy it nonetheless.

“I’m gonna get another drink, you want anything?”

“I’m alright.” Yvie nodded, clearly distracted. “I might head back soon, anyway.”

Looking back to Brooke and the boy, a lilt of panic rose in Nina’s body. She knew her friend was a grown girl who could look after herself. But that didn’t falsify the universally acknowledged fact that when Brooke Lynn Hytes began to toss her hair and sway her hips, no one was safe. “Wait ‘til I’m back, though?”

“Of course,” Yvie responded, adding a thumbs up for good measure.

With that Nina made her way to the bar, trying her hardest to be speedy whilst still polite, something that was almost a kamikaze mission on nights like that. Despite her taller and broader frame, she’d always struggled to worm her way to the front of the bar, scared of hurting anyone near her and trying her best to remain patient.

Her foot tapping against the floor without thought, a wave of relief washed over her when a bartender beelined her way.

“A single vodka lemonade please,” she smiled to the man, holding the exact amount of change in her hand ready.

To her surprise, she heard a laugh to her left. A deep throaty laugh, the kind that required someone’s head to fall back to escape.

That’s when she saw her.

Monet.

“Make that a double,” the girl’s voice flanked down the bartender, smooth like honey. “With Red Bull. None of that lemonade bullshit. And one for me too.”

It wasn’t a secret that Nina had had a crush on the girl for a while. Or at least not to her friends.

It had started in year 13, when their sixth form decided to make some promotions, placing posters on the front gates, on roundabouts and even on buses around the town - Monet’s bright smile and warm brown eyes adorning every single one.

“Doesn’t Bob’s sister look just like her?” Yvie pointed at the poster as they made their way out the gates, on route for their daily meal deal.

“I know right!” Brooke added. “They could be twins.”

But Nina didn’t really agree, stopping in her tracks. “Look at her eyes, they’re much bigger than Bob’s. And her cheekbones, Bob’s face is more round. Look at her lips…” She trailed off for a moment. “She’s beautiful.”

Brooke and Yvie turned their heads to face her in synchronisation, realising the same thought.

“I’m not saying Bob isn’t pretty,” Nina panicked, afraid that she had been rude about the kind and bubbly girl that everyone in her year adored. “I just meant—”

“We know what you meant.” Yvie grinned with every muscle in her face.

“Nina and Monet, sitting in a tree—” Brooke started to sing and wave her arms in the air, only to be interrupted mid-stride after being swatted with a plastic folder full of literature coursework.

“We don’t even know her!” Nina turned to them, a blush starting to seep through her pale cheeks. “You can’t fancy someone you don’t know.”

She didn’t need Brooke or Yvie to tell her that wasn’t true.

“Oh,” Nina turned to face her, lost for words being an understatement to how she felt.

“Sorry,” Monet laughed, looking her up and down in a way that made Nina’s body tremble. “I wasn’t going to let a girl stand and wait anxiously for so long to order a single vodka lemonade, not on my watch.”

Before Nina could think of how to respond, the bartender had returned with their drinks, Monet handing him over a note and taking them, sliding one in Nina’s direction.

Nina found herself in awe almost of the other girl’s confidence.

“Thank you,” she managed to muster after taking a sip, the sweet tang of the drink giving her a shock, her hand automatically raising to her mouth.

“Oh,” Monet tilted her head and pointed a finger. “You’re one of them.”

“One of who?” Nina looked around confused, paranoia racing through her veins, only dissolving once she felt Monet’s hand touch her arm. Nina wondered if maybe a flame burned inside Monet’s ribcage where her heart should have been, heat radiating from the girl’s hands and eyes, from the entirety of her curvy frame.

“One of those pretty girls who just stands with a drink and doesn’t dance. The boring ones.”

And for a moment Nina forgot about it all. She forgot about how drunk Brooke was across the dancefloor, she forgot about how distracted Yvie had been acting. She forgot about her worries, her nerves, her usual hesitation. She forgot there were other people on the planet as she watched the girl she had crushed on for the longest time light up the night around them.

“I think you’re wrong,” Nina spoke softly, finishing the rest of her drink in record time.

She didn’t know if her heart was beating fast because of the girl or the drink. But either way, it was telling her that if she didn’t let those arms hold her it would jump right out of her chest and onto the sticky floor below.

And so she did, swaying to the music in time with Monet, letting the girl’s hands wander around her waist.

“Can I touch your hair?” Nina whispered, almost too quiet for Monet to hear.

Suddenly, she remembered seeing the girl eating on the grass once when the sun was out and shining. How she’d watched as her friend attempted a cartwheel and failed, Monet throwing her head back with laughter, her curls dropping down and almost touching the grass below them.

Monet nodded in response, Nina slowly and gently running her hands through the locks, smooth against her skin.

That’s when she felt Monet’s body inch in closer to her own, Nina seeing the purple sparkle on her eyelids briefly before shutting her own and leaning forwards.

She could feel the flame inside Monet make its way into her own body too, burning the whole floor that surrounded them. One word, one name running circles around her brain. Her lips felt familiar like Nina was simply coming home from a trip away. They moved together just perfectly, an equal balance of pressure back and forth.

Nina’s eyes opened for a second as she watched Monet pull away, a big, bright, and beautiful grin plastered on her face. Before she could take it in anymore she was pulled back into the fire, immersed in its embers, the outside world fading away to ash and dust around her.

Maybe she was more than the sidekick for one night.

That was until someone called the emergency services and the fire was extinguished.

That someone being Brooke Lynn Hytes.

She didn’t process it at first, the voice that was crying out being filtered out of her thoughts to focus on anything and everything Monet. But when she heard it again, Nina couldn’t help but double-take.

“You can’t kick me out! I’ve been coming here since I was fifteen, you nonces!”

Nina’s jaw dropped in horror as she saw her best friend being carried by two bouncers who’s heads almost touched the ceiling. Silently cursing at Yvie, she looked back and Monet, the red lipstick that was previously the definition of precision now smeared around her lips like a crime scene.

“I have to go.”

“Oh. Okay.” Monet frowned at her. “Can I get you on Snap? My phone’s dead, though. I’ll add you back as soon as I’m home.”

“Yeah,” Nina grinned, her mind taken away from her mess of a best friend for a split second to bask in what was happening. Only for her joy to plummet when she reached into her bag and pulled out an assortment of eyeliners and lip glosses instead of her phone. Her mind flashed back a few hours before when Brooke was only at her happy-drunk stage and had insisted on taking some cute photos of them on Nina’s phone (having the best camera, of course), realising that her phone was, in fact, being carried out of the club in Brooke’s pocket as she spoke.

“Shit,” she looked back and forth between her bag and Monet as if it would appear by magic if she wished hard enough. Knowing she needed to hurry to her friend, she quickly grabbed Monet’s wrist and began scribbling across it with her eyeliner, giving her hand a quick squeeze before running off in the opposite direction to find Brooke.

She could have sworn her lips were still tingling by the time she’d caught up.

“Nina!” Brooke cried from her seat in the smoking area, throwing her hands in the air to hug her best friend, only for them to flop back down dead-weight at her sides when they didn’t reach.

“Please can you get her out of here?” The bouncers turned to face Nina, leaving her petrified like a school kid who’d been caught skipping lessons.

Nina’s motherly side came to fruition as she tried to convince Brooke to come home with her, secretly thinking about how long she could make fun of her for being in this state. She decided on at least until the Easter holidays were over, all the way up until Summer at a push.

Eventually, the light at the end of the tunnel began to emerge; Nina managing to convince Brooke to make her way home. The only problem was that she didn’t want to do so with Nina.

“You’re not coming with me, I want you to go in there and get yourself a shag. I know you fancy Bob’s sister. Do it for me, Nina, I’m living through you!”

Her cheeks turning a brighter red than the lipstick that was smothered around her mouth (Monet’s lipstick smothered around her mouth), Nina found herself both mortified and joyed at her friend’s words, a part of her bursting with excitement at the fact she’d finally managed to kiss the girl that always caught her eye but also embarrassed at Brooke’s choice of crude words and inability to lower the volume of her voice.

“I’m coming with you, just let me find Yvie.”

“Nooooooo.” Brooke protested as if she were being asked to go home with a criminal trying to kidnap her rather than her best friend of ten years.

That was when a gravelly voice appeared next to her, a familiar voice she had spent years trying to imitate, never fully being able to capture just how unique it was.

Oh, how she had missed spending time with Vanessa.

Nina had never been one to pick sides, always wanting to be friends with everyone as best as she could be, but it seemed that had been impossible since the infamous breakup plagued their group earlier that year. She understood why Vanessa had cut her and Yvie out of her life, knowing that they would only be a constant reminder of the past but she couldn’t help but long that their group of six was just that again. And seeing the way Vanessa was looking at Brooke gave her a sneaking suspicion that she was not alone in those thoughts.

Content that Vanessa would be able to talk sense into Brooke ten times better than she would, Nina retrieved her phone and checked the time. The club didn’t close for another thirty minutes. Her heart almost skipped a beat and she realised she had a whole thirty minutes to feel Monet’s hands around her waist, their lips pressed together with varying pressure, releasing waves of latent heat into the disco lights above.

Only in the sea of heads bopping to the music, one set of dark curls was nowhere to be seen.

***

“So tonight’s not the night then?” Monet felt Anthony speak close to her ear, his gaze cast to Monique, who they could hear giggling as she attempted to re-tie the back of Asia’s bodysuit, her drunk coordination and false nails making the tying of a bow as hard as neuroscience for her.

“No night is the night.” Monet rolled her eyes at her friend.

As much as she loved him and admired his ability to want to address issues head-on, she had to admit that he was sometimes just a pain in the arse. And a shit-stirrer. He was also a really big shit-stirrer.

“Whatever you say.” He held his hand up in defence, grabbing Monet’s wrist and dragging her over to the other half of their foursome.

Only her attempt to get lost in the music failed as soon as Monique grabbed her hands, twirling her around and playing like they usually did.

Growing up in Britain to a Caribbean family, Monet had fought hard to fight off the bad stereotypes and embrace the good ones that came her way. She had never thought the one that would plague her the most would be pining after her straight best friend, yet here she was, dreading the moment that the repetitive playlist would remix into Flo Rida’s Low and she’d have to let the stunning girl touch her as if it was no big deal at all.

She decided it might just be better after all if she went to the bar once the familiar beat began to play, figuring that alcohol would work as a good enough distraction.

Only once she arrived there, she found one that was much, much more promising.

It annoyed her at first, the incessant tapping of the girl’s shoe so loud she could hear it in the busy club. But then she looked at the legs attached to the tapping feet and the torso attached to those legs and the face attached to the torso and Monet suddenly felt much more forgiving.

She seemed the opposite of Monique, her body thick and her skin pale. Her mannerisms showed a shy, reserved girl, unlike the one that turned everything into a production, unlike the girl she had found herself longing to kiss for months on end.

Monet would have given her the world and more. But she instead settled for a drink.

The perfect distraction.

It wasn’t until they began to dance that Monet realised how different she was to her hookups of the past, finding something endearing in her nervous nature. Normally she’d find herself cringing at someone’s bad dancing, but the way the girl stomped only made Monet want to pull her in closer, seeing something in the girl’s smile that made her feel like she’d known her a lifetime. Never on a night out had she felt so invested, so unaware of her surroundings, unaware of Monique.

Usually, kisses in the club were sloppy, too much tongue and touching. This time was different, the girl asking politely if she could touch Monet’s hair (Monet wanted to tell her she could pull it as much as she liked but refrained with fear or sounding too eager). Her lips were soft and gentle; Monet may have just let a small moan escape from her mouth after they parted, unable to stop grinning once she pulled away. The usual fire of confidence that burned inside of her was dancing all over, going crazy over the dirty blonde and her blue jumpsuit, the sequins dazzling in the light of the disco.

She tasted of hope and Red Bull.

That taste still lingering once the girl had pulled away, scanning the room in a panic and turning back to Monet. She wasn’t a mind reader but she knew something was wrong.

“I have to go.”

The words pierced her skin like an arrow, shot from the closest range. Monet should have been okay, she knew it was unrealistic to think that the girl would invite her back and she’d spend the entire night in her arms. Yet all she wanted was to wake up in a big four-poster perfectly entwined with her body. Generally, Monet thought of herself as a rather chill person, not letting much get under her skin, but the thought of leaving without this girl’s Snapchat made her stomach tighten just enough.

She watched as she pulled out her eyeliner and scribbled, unable to read the scrawl properly in the darkness of the club, knowing she’d have to wait until she was home to read it properly.

Monet could still feel where the girl had squeezed her hand minutes later, standing alone for a moment to take it all in before starting a mission to find her friends.

It didn’t take long. Within thirty seconds of looking she could already see them, their own circle formed in a less busy area of the dancefloor, Asia pretending to make it rain whilst Monique and Anthony took turns in the middle, splitting and kicking to the pop track playing as though they were in a fight for their lives.

She wouldn’t change her crazy group of friends for the world.

“Hey girl,” Monet placed her hands on Asia’s shoulders, unable to keep the ‘I’ve just pulled a really fit girl’ grin off her face.

“She returns!” Monique screamed over the music, still focused on dancing and managing not to miss a beat. “You look like you’ve had fun.”

It was rare that Monet spoke to Monique about any hookups, keeping that part of her life a separate entity in their friendship, shutting her friend down whenever she asked any questions about it. In her home there was a fine line between what was discussed and what was not, Monet sometimes struggling to remove that division when she hung out with her friends, afraid that she’d only open the box and release more creatures than intended. Afraid Monique would realise how she truly felt.

Only this time it was different; maybe she was still reeling from the kiss or maybe it was the vodka, but she had no problem telling her friends about the amazing girl she had just met, or as well as she could do given that they were in the middle of a dance to the death.

“Hey, Monique, why don’t you just do a cartwheel?” Anthony shouted to her, causing an eruption of laughter on Asia’s face and a contrasting one on Monique’s that only meant trouble.

“Do not encourage her!” Monet turned to her two friends trying to keep a straight face, montages of all of Monique’s previous failed attempts flashing through her head. She pointed at her and raised her voice: “You cannot do a cartwheel.”

“But who said?”

“Jesus,” Monet shouted over the music, causing yet another eruption of Asia-laughter before the disaster struck.

It started off stronger than most of Monique’s previous attempts. Her hands touched the ground. Her legs went above them. Everyone managed to move away fast enough (this being the reason for failure for fifty perfect of said previous attempts). But it didn’t stay that way. Monet watched almost in slow motion as her arm buckled underneath her, bending in a way that arms shouldn’t bend, hearing Monique cry out in pain.

A cry of pain she could still hear hours later in their local accident and emergency, surrounded by bloody knees and gurning jaws, waiting impatiently for the imbecile she called her best friend to be released.

Normally people would wait until the next day to tell their friend’s “I told you so” in situations like this, but Monet wasn’t that humble, making sure to say it at least six times in the ambulance journey, then another seven to Asia and Anthony once they arrived in their Uber.

“But you have to admit I was winning the battle.” Anthony sat up on the waiting room chair and looked back and forth between the two girls. “She didn’t even know the words.”

Giving him a slap on the wrist, Asia’s motherly side came out, her nose scrunching in annoyance. “That is the last thing on my mind right now!”

“Monet?” He raised an eyebrow to her, avoiding Asia’s stern look.

“I don’t know, mate. I didn’t really see the entire thing, you know. Would be biased to judge from those ten seconds of failure.”

Monet immediately prepared for an ambush based on the looks on each of her friend’s faces.

And ambushed she was, the pair of them forgetting their circumstances for a moment to ask Monet one hundred and one questions about her hookup. Only looking down at her hand to see a messy smudge of eyeliner instead of a name, Monet realised she couldn’t have given them valid answers even if she wanted to.

It would be her to find a girl so intriguing, a girl who made her want to dance all night and lose her the second the clock struck one-thirty. Her only glass slipper of hope turned utterly unreadable during the heat of their panicked ambulance journey.

Sensing upset in her face, Anthony grabbed Monet’s hand tightly. “Do I need to fight someone?”

But before Monet could begin to explain that her hookup needed finding rather than fighting, they were saved by a familiar cry.

“What do we think?” Monique began to shimmy towards the girls, her arm wrapped tightly in a cast, gaining the attention of every soul in the room (or at least the ones who were fully conscious).

Monet knew she should have been concerned, her friend could have been seriously hurt, but something about Monique’s grin as she danced towards them made her beam instead.

“Tens. Tens. Tens across the board!” She yelled as her friend pranced, resulting in the filthiest look from the receptionist, letting them know it was their time to leave.

“McDonald’s?” Monique looked back and forth between her friends once they had left the front doors, clearly unbothered by their haphazard appearances and the fact she had broken a bone.

The rest of the group didn’t even have to answer her question, simply beginning to walk in that direction without discussion, laughing like they had no cares in the world.

Only as the hours tipped on towards dawn and Monique reached out to hold Monet’s hand, it burned red hot where a pretty girl’s Snapchat username has been written. A face embedded into her brain that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard she tried, a mystery left waiting for her to solve.

***

“Rise and shine!” Nina sang to her best friend, earning only a grunt in response.

“Why are you here so early?” Brooke winced at the sunlight seeping from her window, putting her hand to her throat and grabbing a glass of what she assumed to be water from the nightstand.

Nina guessed by the look on her face after taking a swig that it certainly was not water.

“Because I didn’t want to miss breakfast!” Nina pulled a greasy brown bag from her backpack and waved it in Brooke’s face, who perked up as if by magic. “You should be grateful, I had a right hassle getting this! I nearly ran over some drunk girl with a broken arm just running through the drive-through away from her friends.”

“I’m eternally grateful.” Brooke budged along and patted a spot for Nina to lie next to her.

As much as she hated the drama of nights out and the pounding headache that stopped her productivity the next day, Nina had really missed hungover food and gossip sessions with her friends. It just wasn’t the same without them at Uni.

“So?” Nina looked at her friend, ready and eager to hear what had happened with Vanessa, taking a sip of her drink in anticipation.

“So…” Brooke trailed in response, raising an eyebrow to her friend.

“Did you and Vanjie talk?” Nina couldn’t wait any longer for Brooke to start, spitting her sentence out in one breath.

“Yes.” Brooke looked at her with a gaze Nina had never quite seen before, despite their years of early mornings and late nights of spilling secrets and stories. “But that can wait. What can’t wait is the fact that you managed to pull the girl you’ve had a crush on for ages. Let’s talk about that!”

“Oh. That was nothing.”

Nina was telling the truth. Or at least she was if nothing meant the best kiss of her life. If nothing meant that she could still smell Monet’s perfume when she was getting her breakfast that morning. If nothing meant that she went to bed grinning from ear to ear, the image of the girl pulling her closer a carousel running circles through her head. If nothing meant that every step she’d taken on her way home last night felt as if it were on air rather than the pavement. If nothing meant that she had finally felt like the protagonist of her movie, being granted a night of magic by some special force in the world.

“Nothing? Did you at least get her Snap?”

“Na.” Nina brushed her off.

It wasn’t a lie. Technically she hadn’t gotten Monet’s username - she’d given Monet hers. Yet when she woke up that morning she didn’t have any new requests. She’d be lying for real if she said her heart hadn’t plummeted. It was normal. It happened all the time. That’s what she always told Yvie whenever she was ghosted. Only Nina couldn’t stop the horrible feeling of a knife twisting into her heart that came whenever she checked her phone and saw no notification. She knew it was silly, that it was just a dumb kiss in the club, but she couldn’t help but feel stupid; like she’d been some sort of fool for believing something special had happened to her, a fool for thinking that confident girls like Monet who breathed fire would want to chat to awkward ones like herself who let themselves drown in rain.

“Well, you can just follow her on Insta then. I mean you stalk her enough anyway it’s about time.” Brooke pulled her phone to her face and started to type, a flurry of panic running up Nina’s spine.

She knew that there would be no follow back.

“It’s fine!” Nina raised her voice almost too much, her friend flinching slightly at the volume. “Honestly Brooke, I just want to forget it.”

Nina knew she couldn’t forget it if she tried. She couldn’t forget it if she paid for someone to erase her memories like they did in the films. She couldn’t forget it if she was hit on the head a dozen times.

She wondered if Monet even remembered it at all. Or had she just decided not to think about it, having probably done it many times before, something normal to her. Nina didn’t know which of these options would be worse. She guessed she would never find out.

“I’ll let it go if you give me the last bite of your bagel,” Brooke teased and Nina obliged (having lost her appetite to the wonderful diet technique known as anxiety anyways).

“Have you heard from Yvie then?” Nina asked, trying her best to change the conversation, to think of anything but Monet.

Monet and her kisses.

Monet and her voice.

Monet and her mouth.

She wasn’t very good at this.

“She texted me this morning,” Brooke responded. “Said she was sorry she left. She went for a wee and ran into Ja’mie—apparently, we were gone by the time she got back.”

“Fair enough,” Nina smiled, knowing that she too was responsible for Brooke being left alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Brooke thrust her phone into Nina’s hands (who didn’t want to begin to question why it was sticky). “You can repay me by helping me type a text to Vanjie. How do you say ‘Thanks for looking after me in my drunken state, let’s all go for food like old times sake then make up and have babies together someday’ without sounding too eager?”

Nina laughed at her friend and began to type into her notes, grateful that her A-Level in English Language had not gone entirely to waste.

If only she could use it to express her own feelings about a certain dark-haired beauty instead of those belonging to her best friend.

***

“Get up! You’re doing my shift tonight.” Monet’s eyes opened to the feeling of a pen smacking against her face, her older sister stood menacingly with another one in her hand, ready to be launched at any second.

“Erm, who says?” She sat up and looked at the time.

There was nothing like waking up past midday to really motivate her to work.

“I said when I picked you and your friends up from McDonald’s at eight in the morning. Or do you want me to tell Dad you spent the night in A&E?”

“Fuck,“ Monet thought to herself. Or maybe said aloud. She couldn’t really tell, too caught up in images of the night (or morning) before flashing through her brain. The memory of a still drunk Monique calling Bob and demanding she take them home from McDonald’s, running away from the rest of the group and into the busy drive-through when they tried to stop her. Sometimes it scared Monet how averse to danger her friend was, having willingly run in front of a beeping car despite her freshly broken arm just so she could beg Bob to save them a fifteen-minute walk.

“Guess I’m doing your shift.”

Monet didn’t really mind that much, she liked working in her parent’s restaurant, finding joy in being able to chat to customers, recommending food and talking all things Caribbean. A big part of her thanked the job for her social skills, making her outgoing and confident when others in her year often struggled to speak to people. Yes, she often wished she’d gone to University like some of her friends, longing to bask in that fantasy of late-night shopping trips and early morning study dates. But she knew it wasn’t really her style, figuring she’d go full time at the restaurant until she found her true calling. Everyone liked to act like there were these big time limits on when everything had to be done but Monet knew they didn’t really exist.

Besides, her job meant she always had enough money to buy vodka Red Bulls for handsome ladies in the club, one particular handsome lady coming to mind.

The smudge was still on her hand.

Some would probably tell her it was fate, that she lost it for a reason. That they wouldn’t have worked out.

But Monet didn’t believe in all of that stuff. Monet was a fighter of fate instead.

Whipping out her phone, she Facetimed her best friend, eager for help on her mission. She thought for a second that she should have called Anthony instead; after all, his eagle eyes knew the most about Monet’s love life. But a part of her just wanted Monique by her side, knowing that she’d never get over her feelings if she continued to isolate that part of her life.

“Hey, girl.” She answered on the second ring.

Normally Monet would have spent a moment or two thinking about how gorgeous her hair looked wet and slicked back or how perfect the purple of her dressing gown complimented her skin, how it hung on her body just right.

Only now her mind was overwhelmed with other thoughts.

“Do you know what page the club photos get posted on, from last night?” Monet asked her friend after a short while of broken arm-related discussion.

“Yeah, I’ll send you the link - but don’t be tagging me in any where I look a mess.”

“Thanks.” Monet flicked through the photographs, examining each one for a bundle of dirty blonde hair or sparkle of blue sequins. “I’m actually trying to find the girl I got with. Gonna see if she’s been tagged, yanno.”

“Oh.”

Monet stopped scrolling, letting the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “Oh?”

“Nothing,” Monique brushed off. “Just seems a bit extra, is all.”

“I just want to find her. Do you think I should post it on the Uni confessions page in case she goes there? Or what if I tweet it? Maybe a tweet is safer.”

“I swear you’ve never been this bothered about a pull before,” Monique laughed through the phone. A laugh Monet knew to be fake.

‘Because I normally want them to be you,’ Monet thought to herself but didn’t dare say out loud. Only not once during the kiss the night before had her mind strayed back to her best friend like it usually did. She didn’t know if that would ever find a girl to make her feel that way again, she wasn’t throwing it away.

“This one’s different, I’m confident about it.”

“Okay,” Monique smiled on the screen, raising her hands in the air in surrender. “But remember you were confident in GCSE textiles when you tried to make a children’s dress from sponges for our coursework. Doesn’t always mean you’re right.”

“Don’t bring that into this!” Monet gasped, the attack on her garment cutting deep almost like an attack on her entire being, earning a chuckle from her best friend. “Imma get going, gotta shower and go to the shops before my shift but I think I’m gonna tweet it. Who knows, might see her again when we go out on Monday!”

“Monday? Bitch, I’ve got a broken arm.”

“You can still wiggle.” Monet winked at her friend before bidding farewell and hanging up the call.

She may not have had a glass slipper to try on every girl in town but she did have all the power of social media on her side, and that would simply have to do.

***

Looking around at the other girls as they made their way through the town centre, Nina couldn’t help but feel utterly ecstatic.

Things had been awkward at first - the lack of contact since the Brooke and Vanessa break up was a huge elephant in the room that no one wanted to address. However, as time passed the awkwardness began to melt more and more, Nina was excited to learn anything and everything she had missed out on whilst the girls were away at Uni.

“It’s just down here I think.” Brooke squinted at her phone and pointed to one of the streets.

“I thought we were going to the Lebanese,” Akeria stated from Vanessa’s side, earning a jab in the ribs.

“Scarlet doesn’t like it.” Yvie turned to face her. “Besides this place is really nice, I don’t know why we’ve all never been.”

“Probably because we don’t have the same taste buds as your highness!” Silky laughed, Brooke muttering some sort of private school girl gag under her breath too.

“You better not go on like that when she gets there!” Yvie shot daggers to the pair with her eyes, only making them chuckle even more. "If one of you even thinks about calling her that nickname you will be drop kicked.”

It was safe to say Nina had missed their shenanigans, a part of her wishing she could rewind time back to when they went for food like this every other week.

She’d missed Silky’s snide comments and Vanessa’s grunting laugh. She’d missed the way that Brooke and Akeria both clapped when they got excited. And the way Yvie tried to act all cool and hard in front of Scarlet but ended off turning into a soppy puppy everything she smiled anyway.

It was safe to say she was grateful to Brooke for organising their meal and catch-up. Not only was Nina getting to see the friends she had missed so much but she was also being distracted from refreshing her phone every five minutes, constantly disappointed when waiting to see if a certain someone had changed their mind and added her on Snapchat.

“Well, I’m excited to try something new!” Nina smiled at her friend, pretending not to be extremely anxious at the fact she couldn’t find a menu online so didn’t already know what she was going to order.

In fact, she still didn’t know what to order thirty minutes later once Scarlet had finally arrived, a round of drinks having already been devoured by the group, the range in the menu making her foot dance nervously on the floor below them.

“You guys ready to order your food?”

Nina didn’t dare turn around, the discernable voice ringing behind her.

The voice she’d let whisper sweet nothing in her ears less than twenty-four hours earlier.

The voice she thought she would never hear again.

She looked aside to Brooke, a devilish grin on her face, clearly proud of her work as Fairy Godmother.

Nina wasn’t so proud.

Her leg began to shake more, placing her own hand on it to try and calm down.

She didn’t do hookups, they weren’t the norm for her. She wasn’t used to just kissing someone in a club, giving them every part of her and more than acting like it was nothing afterwards. She didn’t understand how people just threw themselves all in and then decided it was nothing. There Monet was, most likely thinking that the whole thing meant nothing when it was filling the entirety of Nina’s brain. She was drowning in it.

It was like watching a gruesome video, Nina knew it would only end in tears on her behalf but couldn’t help but take a peek.

Only Monet looked anything but gruesome. Her hair slicked back into a ponytail, her face fresh, the end of the pen meeting her mouth as she took a break from writing.

Never in her life had Nina felt any inclination to be an artist yet suddenly she wanted to paint a portrait of the girl right there, her apron slightly stained and her hand showing the remnants of a stamp that hadn’t quite washed away.

Her hand that Nina had written on.

If Nina was drowning then Monet was on fire.

“What about you, Cinderella?”

It took Nina a moment along with an elbow from her right to realise Monet was speaking to her, just gawking at her like a kid in a sweet shop (Monet was probably a sherbet lemon, bright and fizzy right next to the till. She was more of a chocolate mouse, hiding on a shelf lower down).

‘Just ask what she recommends,’ Nina thought to herself, only the words never came out, her mouth opening and closing like a puppet she couldn’t control.

Brooke went to speak for her but Monet was too fast, a superhero reading Nina’s mind and saving her from the burning building. “My favourite is the jerk chicken, with lots of gravy.”

“Perfect.” She managed half a smile, wishing Monet would speak for her more often. Wishing she’d speak for everyone in the world with her voice so lovely.

Nina felt Monet’s hand leave her shoulder as she walked away.

She hadn’t even felt her place it.

“Well, isn’t that a weird coincidence.” Yvie sipped from her straw and looked up at Nina despite the utter lack of liquid left in her glass.

“Seriously? I told you I wanted to forget it.“ She turned to face Brooke, giving the best attempt at whisper-shouting as she could.

“I know, I’m sorry, but if I told you you wouldn’t have come. You’ve fancied her for so long I wasn’t gonna let you just let it go.”

“Did you ever think that I can make my own decisions, Brooke? You don’t have to dictate my life all the time. I look like such a freak now!”

“Hey,” Vanessa chirped in from the other side of the table. “Nina, she was just trying to help. I saw this thing on Twitter—”

“Scarlet, do you like Lebanese food?” Nina shouted over, interrupting Vanessa’s plea.

“Oh of course,” the girl responded, clearly unaware of the tension in the air. “My family visited the Zahriyeh beach resort last year and the food was to die for!”

“I’m going to the loo.” Nina stood up abruptly, almost knocking her chair over in the process. “Please don’t follow me.”

Making her way into the bathroom, Nina stared at herself in the mirror.

She knew her friends only wanted what was best for her, that she shouldn’t have snapped at Brooke. She just kept reliving her awkward conversation, kept thinking about the add that never came through her phone and wished they would have left it be.

It was okay for Brooke, who had Vanessa and everyone else in their old sixth form falling around her. Or Yvie who had the quickest wit, unapologetically herself every minute of every day. They were the type of girls who people fawned over, who girls like Monet wanted to speak to. Not Nina West who couldn’t say the word “chicken” without having an aneurysm.

Trying her hardest not to cry, she almost jumped out of her skin when the door opened, expecting an apologetic Brooke with her puppy dog eyes to walk through.

How wrong she was.

“Oh, sorry.” Nina looked around and made her way towards the door.

“For using the bathroom?” Monet smiled at her, Nina left unable to think of a response other than the word sorry again. “About the other night—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nina blurted, the fear of rejection injected into her bloodstream. She couldn’t bring herself to hear it, to hear Monet tell her that it was nothing or spurt some lie about losing her username. So she decided she’d do it herself, trying her very hardest to seem nonchalant. “We were both drunk, it was stupid.”

“Yeah.” Monet looked down at the floor. “No biggie.”

Nina missed her smile already.

Breaking a silence that felt like a lifetime, Nina released a breath. “I better go. Wouldn’t want to miss my jerk chicken.”

“Couldn’t have that.” She heard Monet’s voice tail off as she made her way back to the table, reliving their conversation for the entire meal - her mind lost in an alternate universe where the night before was the start of a new journey, rather than the remnants of one that never took flight.

Nina realised then how easier things were as the sidekick.

The sidekick never had their heart broken.

***

Monet was ready to take everything she had previously thought about fate and throw it out of the window when she realised the mystery girl from the night before was sitting in the restaurant, sipping happily on a strawberry daiquiri.

Monet had never wanted to physically be a cocktail before in her life but that didn’t stop her from wishing it at that moment.

Asking their head waiter to give her the order instead, she counted down the seconds until their last friend arrived and she could go ask what food they wanted, slipping into her natural confidence and flirtiness, ready to have a daylight conversation with the girl from her late-night memories.

She was nervous again, awkward. Monet wanted to tell her to breathe and shake it off, settling instead for placing a hand on her shoulder whilst she decided what to order.

Normally when asked for suggestions, Monet told the customer whatever was easiest to make, or whatever was going to waste, never her real suggestion.

She gave it this time without prompt.

It was probably wrong to follow her into the bathroom but a part of her just couldn’t handle the anxious look on her face and wanted to tell her everything was okay.

Monet was never one to shy away for what she wanted, overly-excited that she had found the one that got away, thinking of how much the girl would laugh when she told her about her night, how she lost her username thanks to her stupid best friend’s gymnastics related delusions of grandeur.

Only she never got the chance.

“Don’t worry about it. We were both drunk, it was stupid.”

Monet knew she shouldn’t have been upset, it was the type of thing she’d said to many girls before herself. But a small part of her just wanted to crawl up in a ball and cry thinking of how wrong she’d been, of how badly she’d read their moment of passion.

Monique was right. She couldn’t wait to hear her ‘I told you so.’ Monet guessed things hadn’t changed at all, those few words throwing her back in the cycle she was in before. Maybe fate was a part of it after all, maybe this was simply the role she was dealt, no arguments, no compromises.

“Enjoying the shift?” Bob called on her way out, grabbing some tofu from the bench and shoving it in her mouth.

“Something like that,” Monet sighed, checking the clock to see how much longer she would be hiding in the back kitchen until she was free.

“Not like you to be in a mood.” Her sister looked her up and down, clearly sensing a change in disposition from her usually annoyingly vibrant personality. “You better put a smile on cause I know those girls out there, I reckon they’ll tip you if you’re nice. They went to sixth form, used to host a lot of house parties.”

Monet was taken back for a second, laughing to herself at the thought that the girl she’d spent all day trying to find not only went to her old school but also knew her sister. She was starting to wish she’d looked beyond the three pillars of her best friends at sixth form and branched out that tad more, maybe things would be a lot different.

“Do you know the blonde one?”

“Brooke Lynn?” Bob asked.

Monet didn’t know how, but she knew that wasn’t right.

“No the other one. With the dumb smile.”

“Oh.” Bob realised. “Nina West. She was always real sweet, looking after her friends and cleaning up everywhere at parties. Awful fashion sense though, good god!”

Nina.

She could have said it again and again until it no longer felt like a name.

“Well, I’ll see you later.” Bob snapped her out of her daydream. “You out again tonight?”

“Nah,” she sighed. “Monday.”

All Monet wanted to do was get drunk and forget all about Nina and Monique and the thoughts in her head, desperate for the next forty-eight hours to whizz past her like lightning.

Only that didn’t really happen, Monet instead spending the entire time holed up in her room, letting the hours drag by until it was time to hit the club with her friends.

She wrongly thought that with every drink the name would slip out of her mind that little bit more, only it slapped her across the face every time she swallowed instead.

Maybe it was because she’d made the mistake of searching her.

She wasn’t hard to find once Monet knew her name, coming up immediately with twenty-seven mutual friends. Scrolling through picture after picture of the girl laughing with her friends, something pained Monet in knowing she could no longer send a request. That her feelings were unreciprocated. She’d told the girl that their hookup was “no biggie” but there she was thinking about the photo she’d seen of her standing on the bridge in town and how she wished she could hold her waist while she stood there.

Monet had a strong love-hate relationship with the internet.

One more shot and there she was again.

Nina West, as vivid as a photograph in her mind, her foot tapping against the floor, her eyes a scene of bewilderment.

She danced to a song she knew and then again to the next until they were all blurring into one and she couldn’t figure out what the words were anymore.

Another shot.

She could see Nina leaving some coins on the table before she left the restaurant, her body something that could inspire poetry.

Just one more wouldn’t hurt.

“You wanna go for a walk?” She heard Monique whisper in her ear, snapping her back to the reality her brain was running from.

She didn’t have to say yes.

The breeze was bitter against Monet’s face as they left the club; Monique wrapped a jacket around her body for warmth.

“What about the others?” She turned back and stopped, feeling her friend’s arm link into her own despite it being her only mobile one.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about them.”

They walked for a while before stopping at a spot by the river, the moon glistening in the water.

Monet watched it flow in silence.

Normally she’d have been scared by the rustling in the trees or the darkness of the night’s sky but those fears were lost in the moment.

“Are you really this upset about a girl you’ve known for a few days?” Monique’s eyes shone in the dark, pools of chocolate around her pupils. They kept Monet grounded. “She’s not even that pretty.”

Monet thought she couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

“You don’t get it.”

“But I really want to.”

“It felt different, Monique. I never feel like that, I never get like this. It’s fucked me up. I’ve only ever thought anything like that about…” Monet stopped to swallow, deciding she shouldn’t carry her sentence on anyway.

“About me?” Monique whispered, holding her hand out to her friend, her glittery nails scraping the surface of the other girl’s skin.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” Monet pushed her hand away. “I don’t know, I just thought this was something telling me that things were gonna change. I was wrong, too confident. Like the sponge dress, remember.”

“They still can change,” Monique responded.

Her hand moved to the back of Monet’s head, falling down her hair.

She was hesitant at first, moving towards her friend, slow and steady.

Monet’s breath hitched just before their lips touched.

And then everything started to blur.

Lost in the moment, Monet felt Monique’s free arm move down her back, her own hands gripping tightly onto the hem of her top.

It was happening. She’d reached the pot of gold at the end of her rainbow.

Only the coins weren’t shining as brightly as they did in the fairy tales.

This is what she’d imagined for years, what she fell asleep thinking about.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Every movement flashed by in a second; Monet wasn’t feeling them.

She wasn’t feeling anything.

Then the image of highly arched eyebrows and dusty blue eyes made their way into her head.

Monet didn’t have to say it, feeling her friend pull away in the darkness.

“She’s got you bad, hasn’t she.”

“I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.” Monet ignored what she said about Nina. Their friendship was more important. “I know that you wanted to do that because you thought it’s what I wanted. And I did, by the way, think I wanted it. But I don’t. And even if I did, I don’t need you to make me feel better that way. I just need you to be my best friend.”

“I am,” Monique responded, her voice fighting against a brittle sound. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m always happy.” Monet smiled. It was weird how things seemed to make more sense rather than less when she was drunk. “I don’t need a girl. Granted, it’d be a nice bonus, but it doesn’t matter if I’ve got my best friends.”

Monique hugged her like she only had seconds to live.

Yes, Monet wanted Nina. She wanted her more badly than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

But she needed her friends.

“Let’s get you home and never speak of this again, then.” Monique smiled, holding out her hand yet again.

“Agreed.” Monet clasped it around her own, her balance still off-kilter from all the drinking.

At least she didn’t have any shifts to cover the next day.

“Except when you admitted you were wrong about your sponge dress.” Monique grinned. “That, I will never let go.”

***

Nina had just about managed to ignore Brooke and Yvie’s texts about their meal turned ambush. Of course, it was difficult, she’d even written some stuff in her notes that she wanted to chat to them about once she wasn’t mad, having started typing to Yvie about a question on Pointless before remembering she was supposed to be shunning her.

Except Brooke knew her weakness.

Nina could never hold her poker face against a smirking Vanessa Mateo.

“You’re here before me.” Nina stood in awe at Vanessa, a half-drunken hot chocolate and a plate of cookies in front of her.

When they went to Dublin for a long weekend before everyone moved away, Vanessa had slept through her alarm and nearly missed the flight, spending the entire trip borrowing belongings she’d forgotten from the rest of the girls.

She’d be late to her own funeral.

“Of course I am. Didn’t want to miss out on any of my quality Nina West time.” She grinned and pushed the plate across the table, motioning for Nina to take a seat.

Nina loved how easy things always were with Vanessa, finding admiration in the way she never complexified her emotions.

It seemed odd at first when Brooke fell for her. She remembered being told about the night they met, going into every detail about how intense and annoying Vanessa had been as they searched for her phone. It always made Nina chuckle remembering how casually Brooke had added “and then I kissed her” to the end of her thirty-minute rant about the girl.

She’d always pictured Brooke with someone who shared some of her qualities, a little cynical, a little stubborn, surprised that she’d date someone so full of energy. But the first time she saw them together she knew that Vanessa was her perfect complement.

It just made sense.

“So, are you gonna tell me why Brooke Lynn really sent you here?” Nina asked after twenty minutes of Vanessa’s intricate questions about her degree.

“She didn’t ask me.” Vanessa held her hands up and pouted her lip. “I know why you’re mad, we shouldn’t have meddled. I just thought I’d show you this.”

Nina didn’t know what she expected to see on Vanessa’s phone but it certainly wasn’t a tweet from Monet, dated the day of the meal.

“This is an urgent PSA: To the girl with the pretty eyes and sparkly jumpsuit I got with last night, I’m sorry I lost your snap. Hit me up so I can buy you another vodka Red Bull and put your dancing to test again x.”

Nina was glad Vanessa was there to pick her jaw off the floor and attach it back to her face for her.

“I saw it that day and showed Brooke. I honestly thought it was the right thing to do.” Vanessa held a hand out to her, warm and honest.

“No, no. It was.” Nina read the tweet for what might have been the fiftieth time since she’d seen it. If she wasn’t so shocked she probably would have signed herself up for the Guinness World Record for fastest reading. “I fucked it.”

“You can always pop up now?” Vanessa suggested.

“I can’t. I was so rude Vanjie, I read it all wrong.”

“So make it right.”

Nina grabbed her own phone for a second before placing it back on the table. “If I was her I’d ignore me.”

Maybe the fairy tales just happened to the princesses because they took chances, they didn’t let fear get in the way. They never told the prince that their feelings were nothing, a mistake. They were unashamed of how they felt and never afraid that it wasn’t returned.

Maybe that’s why Nina had always been the sidekick.

“Well, you don’t know you well enough then ‘cause the Nina I know wouldn’t ignore someone.”

She hated when Vanessa was right.

“Either way, I should probably go talk to Brooke and Yvie. I feel so bad!”

“Don’t change the subject,” Vanessa caught her out. “I think they understand. Besides, those two are gonna be there for you to message and kiki with as much as you like for the rest of your life. Do you really wanna go back after Easter and let this girl forget about you?”

Maybe it was Vanessa who should go for some sort of world record instead. Nina would have put money on a successful career for her in motivational speaking.

Cinderella wouldn’t have even made it to the ball had the fairy godmother not given her a gown and slippers.

All that Nina needed was to borrow her friend’s confidence for a night.

“I guess a message wouldn’t hurt.” Nina pulled out her phone and opened her notes, ready to type.

“As long as it’s not seven pages long like the ones you help Brooke write to me!” Vanessa leaned over and squinted at the phone.

“You know I do that?”

“You might as well wax seal them with your initials, bitch. Sometimes I’d rather she just trusted herself though. Like I’d rather have her tell me ‘Vanjie, I’m a dick but I love you’ full stop than all that poetry bullshit. I don’t know why she thinks she needs to sound all like you.”

Nina chuckled to herself for a moment, thinking of all the times Brooke had handed her a written message to Vanessa and told her to make it “more meaningful.”

She’d always envied Brooke in many ways. But she never really stopped to think that Brooke might have just envied her too.

“Noted.”

A notification flashed on Nina’s screen, her fingers automatically pushing it away so she could carry on drafting her succinct message.

“Wait, who was that?” Vanjie tapped the screen with an acrylic.

Pulling down the notifications bar, Nina’s face scrunched for a moment as she processed what she saw, looking up and making eye contact with Vanessa when she read the message.

Maybe they’d have to call Brooke to pick both of their jaws up from the floor at that point.

***

“The trailers are gonna start in a minute! Where you at??? x” Monet sent her third passive-aggressive text to her friend in a row.

She cursed under her breath, figuring it would be her best friend to convince her to get dolled up to go see a movie and then be late. She’d even begged Monet to walk further to the hipster cinema where you rented a sofa instead of seats - Monet having the entire one to herself for the time being.

“They’re on for twenty mins anyways. Whereabouts you sitting so I don’t have to scramble in the dark? xoxoxo”

Hearing a tut from behind her, Monet replied quickly with her location before putting her phone back in the pocket.

Normally she’d feel weird about being at the cinema with just Monique, sharing a sofa together in the most classic of date settings. Only now she didn’t, something about their kiss wiping away her feelings, picking up that “what if” she’d always had and sending it away down the river they had laid by.

Maybe it would make their friendship that tad stronger.

Just not strong enough for Monet to deal with being abandoned in a cinema. That would need a lot of forgiveness and grovelling.

A glimmer of hope dazzled before her when she heard the door close, making out a figure coming her way before realising it wasn’t Monique.

At least she wouldn’t have to share her nachos.

“Sorry, this seat’s taken,” she called out as the girl made a beeline for her sofa.

“I know.”

Monet could make out the blue of her eyes in the dark room, the cream jumper she wore complementing them perfectly.

This time it was her struggling to find the words as Nina perched her body onto the sofa, her knees tight together, arms smoothing her skirt and hugging her knees.

“I saw your tweet,” she whispered, looking straight ahead at the screen rather than at Monet.

“I thought you thought it was nothing, you were just drunk.” Monet didn’t even try to pretend she was looking at the screen too.

Her heart was racing. Her entire body on fire.

“I spoke to your friend too, she told me you’d be here.”

“Oh.” The frames began to merge together in Monet’s mind.

“I was just nervous to say it before. But that feeling you had, I felt it too.”

Monet placed a hand on the girl’s knee, noticing how her foot was starting to bounce.

She never wanted to take it away.

“I-” Monet started her sentencing only to be shushed from behind.

“We have to be quiet,” Nina whispered.

Monet moved towards her, their lips centimetres apart.

She looked at Nina and could have sworn she saw the flame that was burning in her chest in the girl’s eyes too, lighting up the darkness around them.

“Well, let’s stop talking then.”

#rpdr fanfiction #nina west #monet x change #monique heart #ninex #background momo #background branjie #lesbian au #fic challenge #black girl magic fic #ashley #tw anxiety #concrit welcome #diversity fic #got my number

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dandelionpath · 4 years

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Do you still have a blog at quietly-devoted? I tried to look for it, to see what it was like because I'm horribly nosy by nature. But I couldn't. I'm sorry if that's a rude question. I do have another potentially rude question I'm afraid. How did you come to work with the deities you did? I'm trying to figure out my own journey and to that end I'm looking for stories to see if they help me figure mine out. Sorry for the rudeness. Hope you're well

Not rude at all!! You’re totally fine, traveller!

I don’t have a blog at that url anymore, because I decided to just put all my devotional stuff on this blog under each deity’s name. I don’t own that url anymore, and I actually ended up turning quietly-devoted into a horror sideblog called grimirror now LOL

I just updated my About Page!! Sorry about that, completely forgot to fix it ^^

As for your second question: So currently I work with Loki, Odin, Hades, Hestia, and Apollo LMAO that’s.... quite a bit for me tbh. Also reading other people’s experiences helped me so much when I was beginning new things and finding my own way, so I totally understand where you’re coming from here! 💗

For Hades, I felt a tug towards him, and eventually decided to reach out to him. At first, he didn’t respond, but it was the time of the year where Persephone (in the mythology) would leave the Underworld and he’d be understandably quite down about this. Eventually (a few months later), I felt a bit of a nudging to try to reach out to him again, and this time I got a response! That experience remains one of my favourite moments of my path to this day. I put on some patchouli oil in my diffuser, sat down and just kind of.... reached out and introduced myself and explained why I wanted to work with him. And then I felt this VERY STRANGE chill but it had a paternal vibe to it and I felt so safe and comfortable, and knew that it was Hades just somewhere deep inside of me. Felt it in my bones LMAO. And we’ve been working together since!

For Hestia, I had a fascination with her ever since we first learned about Greek Mythology in grade 4, and when I got into paganism, I reached out and she welcomed me with open arms! Nothing too special there tbh 💗

Apollo is like the cousin that lovingly bullies you and you pretend to hate each other but if anyone else makes fun of either of you then you’d go to war to protect each other. When I first tried to reach out to Apollo, he straight up LAUGHED at me for thinking about it. I had a big ol’ grudge against him because of that, but now we’ve settled into some sort of metaphysical equivalent of sticking bubblegum into each other’s hair.

Odin came along a while after Loki did, and Loki urged me to give the Old Bastard a chance even though I was absolutely terrified of Odin. Now I give the old man a hug every week and feel safe around him. It took a few months of learning to trust him, but we’re at a comfortable spot where he gently challenges me and I practice asserting my boundaries and also pushing myself to make him proud.

As for Loki......... well Loki is a big confusing one LMAO. So UHHH I had a spirit guide named Ky, and I met Ky properly right at the beginning of my beginning into paganism, in 2017. Then when I started working with Loki, Ky began to fade into the background and eventually straight up disappeared. I had a bit of a panic until I started putting the pieces together and realized that Loki had been Ky the whole time, and only put on that mask to meet me where I was at at the time. And once I met Loki properly, he didn’t need to be Ky anymore. SOUNDS CRAZY BUT LIKE,,,, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED LMAO. i really wish it hadn’t gone like it had because there were a couple weeks where I was so hurt and confused and freaked out and warded to keep Loki out because I didn’t really know if I could trust him at all, but we worked through it! And really, what did I expect working with a shapeshifter deity of mischief and chaos? LMAO

I hope this sort of answers your question(s)? It’s a LOT to read over and I apologize to the rest of y’all who maybe aren’t interested in this for the long text block, but this is as short as I could make it. I left out a bit because I’m not really sure exactly what you’re looking for, but hopefully this helps! 💗 Feel free to pop by my inbox again if you have any other questions!

#comet answers #comets deity work

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flowerpowell · 6 years

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Secrets IX (Drake x MC // Liam x MC // Leo x MC?)

Part 9 is here which means we’re getting closer to the end! This part focuses mainly on Leo, we’ll see his relations with his family and learn more about him! I really hope you’ll enjoy it! As always, any feedback is very much appreciated!

All rights for characters go to Pixelberry, the plot is inspired by Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, I don’t own these rights either.

Rating: Normal

Tagging: @flynnomalleys @kickbuttbookworm @walkerduchess @damienazariostan @client327 @lilsouthernsunflower @choices-sideblog @katurrade @mynameiskaylabella @bizzyschoices @furiousherringoperatortoad @jared2612 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @confessionsofabrokegirl @drakelover78 @darley1101 @laniquelove @umccall71 @hopefulmoonobject @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @hhiggs @agent-zephyrkah ♥

Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous. When she opened her eyes, a stream of light glared her.

Was she dead?

Riley tried to move her body a little but stopped as she felt sharp pain in her leg.

Maybe she wasn’t dead physically, but mentally she very close to death.

She sighed quietly after remembering the details of last few hours she was conscious. Carefully, she looked around the room she was in; it was very small, had pretty much no furniture and was painted white, although the dust made it look rather grey. Most importantly, she was there alone.

Blinking, she tried to sit up but her leg hurt too much. She didn’t remember breaking it so it must have happened after she passed out. She noticed it was bandaged so that guy from last night must have done it.

Riley was just inspecting what really happened behind this white fabric on her leg, when the man who rescued her last night entered the room.

“Hello there, how are you?” He asked cheerfully while putting down some wood for the fireplace she just noticed.

“I’m confused, what happened to my leg? And who are you?”

The man walked up to Riley and gently touched her leg. “I believe this is my fault. I was carrying you here and your leg met with a few nails sticking out from my door frame. I’m not used to rescuing pretty girls in the middle of the woods,” he said apologetically. She looked at her leg, her eyes widened.

“It’s okay, I sterilized it. With vodka, but that works too, right?” He sat down next to her and ran his fingers through his hair. “And my name is Leo, I already told you that,” he smiled at her warmly.

Riley cleared her throat before speaking, “Ahem, yes, I was a little bit passed out then but thanks for reminding me. I’m Riley.” She stretched her arm to shake hands with him. “Would that be rude if I asked you why you like in a cabin in the middle of the woods? Are you a serial killer or something?”

At first, Leo looked at her with serious expression on his face just to burst into laughter a second later. “If I wanted to kill you I’d probably left you out there to die.” He shrugged before adding, “Besides knights in shining armors help the princesses and marry them later, not kill them.” He smirked at her and she felt she was blushing.

“I’m not a princess,” she murmured.

“Thank God!” He excaimed and stood up. “Hungry?”

Riley smiled gratefully. “So hungry.” With one last look he left the room leaving her alone again.

“Why are you living in a cabin here?” she asked while eating her oatmeal. She was much hungrier than she thought, as the mash she looked at was the most delicious thing she ever tasted.

“And why not?” he aswered looking at her with his big, blue eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t judge you or anything, it’s just, I met once a person who lived in alienation too and I wonder what your reasons are.”

Leo thought for a while before answering. “I had a difficult family situation. My mom left us when I was young, my father is a dick. I had a brother too but he died. I had nowhere to go really. And I thought a little solitude is best for me. Especially now with this crazy Queen who would execute everyone she sees,” he sighed.

Wow, that’s the first person here that’s actually honest. Or at least seems honest.

“I’m so sorry. For your brother, and your parents.” She covered his palm with hers and he smiled at her.

“I miss him a lot, he was the only real friend I had.” Riley felt really sorry for Leo but she couldn’t help but smile at his openess. He was like an open book, he told her everything from the beginning and that felt really...nice.

“What about you Princess? What were you doing in the woods, alone?” She blushed when he called her a princess. “Just waiting for my knight. And running away from people who lied to me. It’s a long story.”

He grinned, “I have time. And I’m dying for some gossip.”

She laughed accidentaly spitting out her oatmeal. “Sorry!” she muttered. She swallowed the rest of her meal and continued, “Nothing really to say. Met a guy, he turned out to be already married, which he never mentioned, still asked me to marry him, so I ran away.”

“Wow, what a jerk” Leo raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I’m not married if you were wondering.” Riley looked at him amused. This guy was something else. “You know, in case I ever proposed to you and you didn’t know.” She rolled her eyes and they both laughed. “First, I would rather wanted to learn more about you. Then I would consider marrying you.”

Leo pretended to think. “So what would you like to know?”

“Something like...what’s your darkest secret?”

Leo looked at her in disbelief. “Wow, you’re not playing, are you?” She shook her head. “Well, don’t tell anyone but,” he leaned towards her, “I actually like pineapple on pizza” he finished quietly. They laughed again and continued getting to know each other for a few more hours.

With her leg hurting, Riley wasn’t able to do much. She was either lying on the bed in her tiny bedroom, or sitting on a very umcofortable chair in even smaller kitchen.

Surprisingly, Leo was a very good nurse. He brought her food, gave her some painkillers, even took her on a walk carrying her the whole time.

He told her his childhood stories and in return she told him stories from her college days. They talked with ease, as for strangers that just met, they were very open with each other. Leo even shared a story about his mother, how she left him hearbroken and never tried to contact him. He mentioned his brother and admitted that memories with him were the happiest. He regretted going on a cruise because it was then, when he learned his little brother died. Leo didn’t talk much about his father but Riley understood him. She really felt bad for Leo, he was an amazing person and didn’t deserve any of that crap.

“Don’t you miss the civilization sometimes?” she asked him when he was making her bed.

“Sometimes. But then I go to Greece, or any other country, just not here. The monarchy here is really awful, you’re lucky you’re not from here.”

Riley frowned, “I wonder why people didn’t abolish her or something, she’s truly terrible.” Riley flinched when she remembered her encounter with Madeleine that night. Why do people want such bad person to be their Queen?

“Because they’re scared. She’s unpredictable but keeps the enemies in line. No one dares to protest.”

Wow, I’m not really surpised after she tried to kill me. She sure knows how to scare people.

“So Princess, are you ready for bed? Do you, err, want me to help you with shower or you skip it?”

Riley looked at him blushing. She completely forgot about such thing as taking a shower when she was with him. “I think I need it, I was running in the woods for a whole day and lying in this bed for another. But I’ll be fine, thank you.”

Leo carried her to his small bathroom and put her down. “If you need anything just scream and I’ll come.” She smiled at him gratefully and nodded. He left and she started her night routine. Even though she only knew him for a day, there was something familiar about him. She was tempted to call him to help her, just to see how he would act but abandoned the thought. That would be too soon.

When she was all ready he carried her to bed again and put a fresh bandage on her leg. The wound healed pretty quickly. While she was checking her leg, Leo studied her face.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked all of the sudden.

“Hmm?” Riley turned to him, “What do you mean?” He sighed and sat down on her bed. “I see something is bothering you, I might not be the best at reading people but I see when something’s wrong.”

Oh, so he noticed.

“Umm, not much, I was just wondering about going home. I still don’t know how to find the city and I need to book a plane ticket. I just want to go home,” she admitted.

Leo thought for a while. “Living with me is that bad, huh?”

“What? No, no! It’s great but...I just miss some civilization. Living with you was pretty fun.” She answered squeezing his hand.

“My old friend, Bastien, visits me here twice a week. If you want, you can go with him” He said sadly.

“When does he come next?” Riley asked studying Leo’s worried face. “He was here yesterday, so in two, three days, I’d say.”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “Then don’t be sad, I’ll be here with you for another two, three days. And if you’re nice I actually might stay longer.” He looked at her, this time smiling. “I will do whatever I can. You’re too good company to lose. Goodnight.” He kissed her forehead and left the room.

She was lying for a few minutes more in the darkness before she peacefully drifted to sleep.

The next two days passed very quickly. Riley could finally walk and Leo showed her all his favorite spots in the woods. He even taught her how to cook his favorite meal and in return she gave him the receipe for the best cronuts she knew.

They fooled around all the time and Riley didn’t get bored even for a second. Leo was definitely a definition for entertainemt even in the most dull conditions.

When the next day came, and Bastien visited Leo’s cabin, Riley gladly announced she wanted to stay a little bit longer. Leo was overjoyed and danced with her around the room while Bastien was shaking his head in disbelief.

When Riley disappeared in her room, the man whispered something to Leo. Leo’s eyes widened in shock and he couldn’t say anything. When Bastien left, Riley found Leo crying behind the cabin. She put her arms around him and let him weep for a little longer. After few minutes he pulled away.

“What happened Leo? What did he say?” Riley asked concerned. Leo wiped his eyes. “He said that my father died. I never liked that prick but it still hurts. The only member of my family that I had, just left, forever.” Riley hugged him and started gently stroking his head. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

That night Riley stayed over in Leo’s room, holding him and letting him cry as much as he wanted. Somehow, despite all the crap he’s been through with his father, Leo still missed him terribly. She understood it and kept consolling him till they both fell asleep.

It was the middle of the night, it was really hot despite a rather strong wind. Riley had peaceful dreams until she heard a scream. She woke up instantly, her face and body covered in sweat.

The flashback of that night when Olivia was attacked was in her head as the first thought. Leo was beside her, still asleep. She must have been dreaming. Just when she put her head on the pillow again, she heard it again.

It was real.

This time, the scream was more clear and it woke Leo up as well. “Did you scream?” he asked sleepily but she shook her head. “No, I think someone is in the woods,” she answered.

Leo stood up and took a flashlight from under the bed. “I’m going to check it out, maybe another Princess needs rescuing,” he smirked at her but she wasn’t laughing.

“I’m going with you,” she decided getting out of the bed. Leo wanted to protest but didn’t seeing Riley’s determined face. The two of them entered the darkness of the woods when they heard the scream again, this time the source of it was closer.

When the scream was even closer Riley realized it belonged to a child. She started running, hobbling slightly, in the direction of the voice. Leo followed her with his source of light.

“Hello!!!” Riley screamed trying to find the person who yelled. She heard someone running her and started walking up to meet the person.

At first, she saw only the silhouette, dark but small, and she was sure it was a kid. When Leo finally caught up his flashlight reached the person.

Riley noticed a very dirty, shredded dress. Then she saw the face and in horror she realized she was looking at Amelia.

“Oh my God,” Riley whipered, quickly closing the distance between them and pulling the girl in a very tight hug. Amelia was shaking, but recognized Riley and squeezed her governess even tighter. Leo looked at the two of them in surprise, milions thoughts crossing his mind.

“What happened?” Riley asked after a few minutes filled with Amelia’s sobbing.

“L’explosion, l’incendie. Je ne sais pas, the house was on fire,” the little girl spoke, her voice slightly breaking, “suddenly exploded, I ran but...no one else did. Everyone is dead!”

#trr #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfiction #drake walker #drake x mc #king liam #trr liam #liam x mc #leo x mc #leo rys #liam rys #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #playchoices #play choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic

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deafinatlyafan · 7 years

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Aromantic is when you don’t experience romantic attraction (romantic attraction is "oh I'm so lovey dovey about you” although they can still date and have sex.) Asexual is when you don’t experience sexual attraction (sexual attraction is ”gosh dang it I need your body specifically.” They can still want sex, they just don’t experience their body saying that about a person) (I’m aro ace so idk what attractions are like so correct me if I’m wrong please-also SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME THIS I DON’T UNDERSTAND ATTRACTION.) Someone can be both asexual and aromatic (hello), but in this case, Logic is Aromantic and asexual while Morality is just Asexual.

there is no point to this fic, it’s basically just word vomit. it was just an outlet before I created You are loved (and this was how it was supost to be before some writers *glarings at @stary-puppy @analogically-prinxiety @sanders-sideblog and @prinxietyhell * encouraged me to make it agnsty.

thanks to @sanders-sideblog for the help! @starrykid @prinxietyhell @doctorwho @doctorshufflepuff @dan-yuna

puns taken from Tumblr posts (one from arodorable) I don’t remember who made most of them but they were on Tumblr when I saw them. trigger warnings: mentions of wanting kids and being told they cant because they’re asexual, they mentions of sex, but its not explicit

. .

“But you always talk about how much you love everybody! How could you not have had someone you’ve wanted sex with?” Prince asked him too shocked. Morality flinched. He had heard all sorts of stuff about this, “Impossible! That doesn't happen!” “Come on! A guy like you must have at least one action in your lifetime!” “Yeah right!” But it didn't make it any less uncomfortable to talk about. “You literally embody all of Thomas’s extreme emotions, how could you not have at least felt one tiny attraction??” Prince asked. Morality hesitated, not sure how to answer Princys questions. He always thought it was fake, or forgot it existed but he always found out that it was a real thing and it always confused him.

“I don’t know.” Morality said meekly, “m-maybe I just- I don’t know.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Prince could sense this so he spoke up; “Don’t worry you’ll find your prince, princess or non-binary royalty someday!” Prince gave Morality a hug and walked away. Morality felt uncomfortable, he had never had that feeling towards anyone before and he didn’t think he ever will. Did people really have that feeling all the time? he wasn’t sure how to react. He decided to go to Logan, He needed someone who understood, and some company. Anxiety was sleeping-which was something he rarely did so he didn’t want to wake the emo side.

Walking to Logic’s room he thought about the conversation he had with Prince. He couldn’t remember a time when he had any sexual attraction, he always thought everyone was exaggerating or thought they were just pretending so they could relate to their older siblings. He always nodded along with the others when they talked about it since he didn’t want to be left behind, but it always felt weird to talk about “how hot someone was.” He always thought it meant beautiful until Logan corrected him (which was shocking to everyone, but he understood sexual terms very well-well, at least most of the terms.) Reaching Logic’s door, which was already open, he could see papers sprawled across the desk he sat at.

“Logan-” Morality spoke up.

“What is it now!” Logic snapped. Morality jumped back, biting his lips. He didn’t realize he had tears in his eyes until Logic turned to him and panicked.

“Oh crap-uh I don’t- how do I comfort-?” Logan stood up and walked to his crying friend, reaching an arm out to hug them awkwardly. Morality laughed at the awkward hug.

“I’m glad you find my pain funny.” Logan answered. Morality suddenly felt bad, but calmed down once he saw Logic was smiling.

Logan was glad he could cheer Morality up, but he had no idea what to do now. Morality was the one that was good at these things, or even Anxiety. Anxiety must be sleeping if Morality wasn’t going to them.

“Do you want to talk about it or?” Logan was hesitant to offer anything, but he read somewhere that you should let them speak and let them know you were open to listening. Morality sniffled wiping his nose on his wrist before answering; “Will I ever be loved?” Logan grabbed a tissue when he saw Morality wipe his nose, and was suddenly confused and shocked. Why would Morality even think that!? “What are you talking about? Thomas loves you, Anxiety and Prince loves you, I -”

“No, not that kind of love but- uh romantic love.” Morality was feeling childish and small right now. Logan was confused before he remembered there was a thing called romantic attraction.

“Oh.” Logan said.

“I’m sorry, but its just-everyone is bothering me about my asexuality ever since I said I haven’t felt that way towards someone, and everyone is freaking out about it. Anxiety asked me a couple questions, which to be honest was uncomfortable, but better than the other’s questions, but they all had some form of “you’re lying” or “but you said you wanted to have sex and then you don’t?” and stuff like that. I mean- it’s confusing enough they don’t have to add to it. It fine if they’re trying to understand-that I don’t mind, but when they keep pestering me about it it gets… annoying and … hurtful?” Morality didn’t know how to describe it.

“I get it. Not everybody knows I’m Aromantic, but I’ve had plenty of people ask me about crushes and make up delusions about how I’m lying or whatever it is. Truth is, they can’t understand and that sucks. All we can do is try to educate them on this matter and hope for the best.”

“How do you handle their questions?” Morality asked

“Well for one, I usually just answer them honestly and listen to what they have to say. Usually everyone thinks I’m an emotionless robot so they aren’t surprised, but sometimes, like Princey for example, he would get confused and pester me until he gives up.”

“That sounds awful!” Morality was shocked by how the others had reacted. He didn’t know that they had thought him to be an emotionless robot!

“It’s all good. It’s better than the “that doesn’t exist!” or “You’re just seeking attention”-which is ridiculous since they didn’t know I was aroace until they asked about crushes-but hey, I can’t understand how allosexuals think. Although, it’s always fun to think up a good comeback for when they say stuff like that again.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” Morality agreed.

“It does indeed, and when they find out you can have sex and feel honey they get confused or even offended. Like, sheesh, I don’t make the rules, it just happens but perhaps one day they’ll understand, or at least stop pestering us about it.” “It’s just-” Morality hesitated. He wanted talk about it but he wasn’t sure Logan would understand.

“What if I can’t find someone who respects my boundaries?” He asked. Logan frowned.

“Why do you ask?” Logan asked,

“Well,” Morality hesitated, “it’s just that, if everybody I talk to about it thinks I’m faking, there’s a high chance my partner is going to think I’m faking too. I just- what if I fall for someone and they don’t accept it? What if they want sex, but I don’t?” Morality felt uncomfortable. Normally he didn’t go to someone about his problems, but it was overwhelming him right now.

“Morality, being aromantic and all, I don’t experience this “falling I love” you’re referring to, but there are plenty of ways to fall in love. You could fall in love with the trees, the birds, the bees, whatever basically. You still have time. Even if you never end up wanting to do that with someone its okay. They will respect your boundaries. You deserve it. And if they don’t then, Thomas, Prince, Anxiety and I will Hunt them down and make sure that they are aware that we are not to be messed with.”

This made Morality crack a smile. Logan had a thought.

“Come on let’s lie down for a bit. I want to watch the constellation in my room change again.”

Morality beamed. At certain time of the day Logan’s room-well ceiling to be exact- would change colors and stars so that you could see the different constellations, and galaxies. Sometimes when morality was younger Logan would bring him in here and just try to explain the stories behind each of the constellation. Morality didn’t get it of course but he enjoyed the company and watching the stars change. It wasn’t in real time, but it was held from memories Logan had of seeing pictures or memorizing the star’s positions. Even though he could not name most of them; They were beautiful. They were lying on Logan’s bed, feet touching the ground, because they were laying on the sides of the bed, staring at the ceiling, just starting to talk about things allosexuals would say to them. How frustrating it was to not be understood. How upsetting it was when they thought people told them they were aro or ace because they were emotionless, or too emotional. They talked about how they felt and who they thought they would date or have sex with if they wanted. (Logic wasn’t interested in dating anyone but he would totally have sex the guy from biology, while Morality thought the smiling person in Thomas’s class the day before was adorable and someone he could see himself kissing one day.) Then Logan started talked about how confusing it was for him when he first noticed he was aromantic and asexual. “I don’t know I just-everyone was starting to feel things and at first I thought that they were just exaggerated for effect, but then, it just grew for you guys while I stayed the same? I’m not sure, I never understood the concept of love outside of friendship. I literally cannot see myself in love with anyone. I might love someone, but never in that way. Oh, and every time someone asked me if I had a crush I would have no idea how to answer because I’ve never had a crush! However, if I told them that they thought I was just faking so I was frustrated and confused. I did a lot of research and at first I thought I had some form of disorder where I couldn’t feel emotions, but I felt pain and everything else that people felt, just not-that one feeling.”

“that’s kind of how it felt for me, except it was just recently when I realized that sexual attraction was completely different from romantic attraction and it all just sudden made sense!”

they stared in silence for a second before Logan interrupted.

“I’m surprised.” Logic said.

“By what?” Morality asked “It’s been almost an hour and a half… and you haven’t made one pun about being asexual or aromatic.”

“Well I knew you would be more of a fighter than a lover if I did that!” morality gave him a cheeky grin. Logan stared at him, realizing something.

“…how long have you attempted these puns without me knowing?”

Morality pretended to look at his watch (his wrist was bare he had no watch)

“About an hour and a half, I believe.” Logan groaned.

“How come I never get your jokes?”

“They’re not very straight, just like us.”

“Huh? That makes no sense!” Logan turned his head to face his friend.

“Allosexuals make no sense!” Morality laughed. This time logan rolled his eyes and smiled at the joke.

“Very funny Morality.” “I have more.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “you’re as straight as an aro.”

“I don’t get it, I’m aro- oh I get it, but you go one thing wrong morality! I’m not straight!” Logan argued as Morality laughed. Moralitys laugher died down a bit. It went silent again until Morality sighed.

“I don’t know how to be a romantic at all. I need someone to teach me.”

“Hey, don’t ask me I’m aromantic, not a romantic.” Logan said. Morality sat confused until his eyes widened and he sat up. “Aww! You just made a dad joke!”

“It’s a play on words, but it’s my favorite.”

“Another one Logan! You’re on a roll!”

Logan sighed, he had only made two puns but he continued.

“What do you call a group of aromantic people sitting next to each other?” he paused before saying “a row.” Morality laughed and made a few more aro jokes that earned a smile from Logan. Now they were talking about people who said they couldn’t experience one attraction without the other.

“What about when people ask when you find someone cute?”

“I think animals are cute, but that doesn’t mean I want to date them.” Logan pointed out. Morality laughed. “I’m not sure why that made you laugh but anyways; asexual people can still experience romantic attraction and date or even have sex if they want; Aromantic people can experience sexual attraction and have sex or even want to date!” “Yeah but-I don’t know. It’s just… sometimes I do think I will want to have sex with my partner, but what if I end up not wanting to do that? What if I just want to… be with them without sex.” Morality didn't know what to say, it sounded like Logan had accepted his own Aro/Ace identity with no problem. Morality wasn't even sure if he was asexual. He was definitely not aromantic. None of this made sense to him.

“It’s okay if you don’t get it now. You’ll get it someday. Even then, you don’t need a label to allow yourself to feel however your feeling.”

Morality was tired of hearing that, but at the same time he knew it was true. Why couldn’t he just accept he didn’t know and move on?

“I know, but I’ve never experienced this sexual attraction feeling before and it bothers me so much. Do you ever wonder what its like?”

“Well to be honest, not often. I do wonder how it could be great, because from all the stories about loving this person but not their partner confuses me. Besides think of it this way, You’re not distracted so much by how attraction you have towards this one person-”

“Uh, maybe not but I will always worry that my partner will always want sex when I least want it and-and then I worry about mentioning how much I don’t want to try it or worry about how they will react to me not wanting it even when I want kids, or how much they’ll hate me after I tell them so I’ll have to-”

“Whoa Morality- is someone pressuring you?” Logan was confused and worried. Morality had too much emotions for one person sometimes and he needed a break from it all, but he had never seen Morality this upset. Maybe they’d have to wake up Anxiety for this after all.

“No no no no! I’m not even dating anyone yet! I’m just- I’ve heard so many different stories and I don’t know how to react, and if everyone around me acts like I’m some sort of werido about not wanting sex or experiencing the attraction, then how will they react if they were my partner?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not why they think you’re a weirdo, but just know this, You don’t have to do anything you are not comfortable doing.”

“yeah, but it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“if anyone pressures you to do something you’re uncomfortable with let me know and I will annihilate them with my secret weapon.” Logan joked. It was an inside joke they had since they were kids, but they rarely used it. Morality smiled a little, but it wasn’t a smile. He just smiled because Logan was trying to cheer him up though it wasn’t working. Logan knew if he had faked a smile while they were already talking about other struggles it meant either he didn’t want to talk about it, or he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Logan thought for a minute before deciding to move so he was properly on his bed. Morality frowned and moved so that Logan’s feet wouldn’t meet Morality’s head, “Come here.” Logan said laying down on his bed with his head at the head rest. Morality looked very confused.

“I promise I wont do anything you don’t want me to, just come here for a second.”

Morality hesitated but went to the edge of the bed. Logan grabbed morality and pulled him towards the bed. Morality laid down besides him and snuggled up closer.

“Is this comfortable?” Logic asked.

“Yeah.”

“This is all some people want. For some people this is more pleasant than cake-” (morality gasped at that,) “I’m asexual too morality I know about the symbolism of cake, and how hurtful it is to consider something better than cake -” (logic rolled his eyes as he said that,) “-now shush, I’m trying to comfort you. Now look, in your entire life have you ever made anyone uncomfortable?”

“Well there was that one time when I wouldn’t stop annoying Anxiety about that time he-”

“I’m not talking about teasing them, I’m talking about make them so uncomfortable they don’t feel safe enough to be around you.” “well-no-but.” “why not?” “because that’s just wrong!”

“exactly! Your partner will know that this is wrong. If your partner really loves you, they will do anything they can to make you comfortable and feel secure. Yes they might tease you, and yes they might make you upset or angry, but as long as they don’t make you feel unsafe or insecure then you have nothing to worry about.” Morality snuggled up to Logic it was nice just talking to him, but it was better knowing that Logic was trying to comfort him.

“I just want to hear about the stars right now.”

Logan lit up and brought his attention to his ceiling.

“Sure! So you see that star right there? Yeah that star is called the Pistole star and is the most luminosities star that we know of! It is ten million times brighter than the sun isn’t that neat! Oh and when the stars are twinkling its because of just our wafting atmosphere…” Logic continued to pull out random facts about stars while Morality listened. It was nice just to be here with his friend. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Logan leaving him.

#or did he?#IM KIDDING IM SORRY #I PROMISE THEY ARE OKAY #I'm not going to make you suffer after my last angst #brological #asexual morality #aromantic logan #asexual logan #aromantic logic #asexual logic #AHH #my fic

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