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orithyia-eriphyle · 10 months

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Drive

Chapter 3: Taste Previous Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5k

Stray Kids x Fem!Reader (Street Racing AU)

Synopsis: Turns out befriending the barista, Jisung, was a good idea. Although Minho’s Saturday plans with you are slightly soured when you run into someone unexpected.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of gang-related activities, tattooed and pierced Chan.

Not edited

***

You hummed quietly to yourself as you waited for Jisung to finish his shift, looking out the window as people and cars passed by. You eventually got bored just staring and resorted to scrolling mindlessly on Instagram. You stumbled across an ad for a local tattoo shop, and your curiosity is now piqued. You clicked on their page and looked through some of their work, admiring their style.

You had multiple tattoos already and plan on getting more once you moved to Seoul and now could be the perfect time after winning the race last night, your wallet feeling a little thicker.

***

“Okay, I’m done!” Jisung’s voice called out from behind you. You turned your head to see him no longer in his apron and making his way toward you. You smiled and kicked the chair out that was across from you so he could take a seat.

“You seem pretty happy for someone who just had to clean up a bunch of spilled coffee beans.” You remarked idly, smiling at the man lazily.

Jisung returned your smile, “The thought of being with a pretty woman kept me motivated.” He said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. You laughed at him, already finding him to be enjoyable company.

Jisung decided that it was time to get to know you properly, beginning with simple questions, “How long have you been living in Seoul?” He said, staring at you intently.

“This is only my third day here. I moved from Busan.” You said, taking a bite of your cake pop.

“Why’d you move? Busan is pretty nice.” He questioned once again.

“I guess for job opportunities.”

“You guess? I feel like that’s something you should know.”

You laughed, “It’s not a legal job, Jisungie.” You said, cocking a brow at him, watching as his eyebrows shot up.

“You're not like dealing drugs, right?’ He said, his cheeks puffing out. You smiled coyly and nudged his foot under the table in a playful manner.

“Do I look like a drug dealer?” You said in a tone of fake offense, holding a hand to your heart.

Jisung waved his hands in front of him in a form of surrender. “No, of course not! But would a good drug dealer want to look like they deal drugs, you know?” Jisung said, waving his hands as he spoke, “That’s how you get caught, and I don’t think you look like a drug dealer who would get caught.”

You looked at the man across from you incredulously, “That was a lot more detail than I was expecting, and yet I’m still confused.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re hot either way,” Jisung said and then continued switching subjects like whiplash. “What is the actual illegal activity you get up to?” He questioned, placing his crossed arms on the table and leaning on them.

You leaned closer to him, your faces only a few inches away, and pressed your index finger to your lips in a ‘shushing’ manner with a small smile. “I do street racing and I think you do too, sweet cheeks.” You spoke in a hushed manner, taking note of the slight shock on Jisung’s face.

“How’d you figure that out?” Was his response, his face showing clear confusion.

“I’ve become good friends with Lee Minho, whom I assume you know.” You said, raising your brow in question but both of you knew it was a statement, “He and I had a friendly competition last night, which I won by the way, and ended the night with some drinks and loose lips.” You continued, finishing off your snack. “It’s weird that I keep running into people who know each other in a city as big as Seoul.” You finished, not talking to anyone in particular with your ending statement.

Jisung stared at you with an unreadable expression before replying, “I haven’t met a lot of people who can beat Minho Hyung.” He paused before continuing, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs. “But you also don’t seem like a regular opponent, pretty.” He finished with a small smile gracing his features.

You returned his smile, “You could say that.”

***

You slouched on your couch after returning home from the cafe with Jisung. You enjoyed spending time with him, finding his goofy personality very attractive and naturally appealing. He didn’t seem fake like a lot of people seemed to be these days.

After getting a glass of water, you opened Instagram to see that you were still on the tattoo studio’s page from earlier. You recalled your inclination to get another tattoo and clicked on the link in their bio which led to their website. You scrolled through and found their contact information, which led to an impromptu call that may or may not have led to an impulsive decision.

“This is Red Lights Tattoo and Piercing Studio, how may I help you?”

***

Later that night you were hanging out with Minho once again, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately. You were both playing UNO which was starting to get a little heated. You had already been accused of cheating once.

“You know how you were going to show me around this weekend?” You questioned suddenly, resulting in Minho looking up from the cards in his hands. “Yeah. Did you change your mind or something?” He questioned, his lips tugging down at the corners.

You shook your head, “No, but I called a local tattoo studio and they could only book me for Saturday so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and you could show me around after.” You stated, watching as Minho’s eyebrows went up in realization.

“I don’t mind coming with you.” He said, placing down a skip, which you rolled your eyes at. “Do you have any other tattoos?” He questioned, placing down his next card.

You nodded and smiled, “Want to see?” You said with a wiggle of your brows.

Minho raised a brow and puffed out a chuckle, “I don’t know, with the way you asked it makes me think it’s on your ass or something.” He said and then frowned as you shouted ‘UNO!’ Your conversation had completely distracted him.

You smirked at him, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t love to look at my ass.” You said cheekily, placing your last card down and cheering.

Minho sighed dramatically, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head down to look at you across from him, “You said it, not me.” You snorted and covered your mouth in mild embarrassment while Minho smiled at you fondly. Minho spoke again, “But yes, I want to see your tattoo.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up on your knees, gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it up. You stopped when only the underside of your bra was showing, looking up at Minho as he stared at your sternum. “I’d take my bra off to show you the whole thing but you’re not that lucky.”

Minho ignored you, continuing to stare at the black ink that started between your cleavage and branched out under your breasts. It was spiked and reminded him of an old and dead tree.

Minho released a breath before speaking, “I was honestly expecting something stupid but that’s pretty sick.” He said airily, finally looking back up at your eyes as you dropped your shirt.

You replied with a scoff, “Do I seem like the type of person to get something stupid permanently tattooed on my body?” You questioned, rolling your eyes when the man only stared at you with a deadpan expression. You could never win with him.

“Where are you getting the new tattoo?” He questioned, beginning to help you pick up your cards and empty wine glasses.

“I was thinking about my hand. I like where the other is but I want one that’s more visible.” You said, walking to your kitchen to put the dirty glasses in the sink. Minho joined you in the kitchen shortly after putting the cards away.

“You know, you could always just walk around topless.” He suggested cheekily, leaning against the counter next to you with his arms crossed over his chest. You stared at him from the corner of your eye with a bored expression.

“You’re awfully flirty with me considering we’ve only known each other three days.” You stated, drying your hands off the kitchen towel. Minho shrugged and stared at the wall across from him.

“You just really bring it out in me, doll.” He replied, walking behind you and placing a hand on the small of your back as he put the now-dried glasses back in the cabinet for you.

“You’re an odd man, Lee Minho.” You said and stared at his very sharp jaw.

“I try my best, doll.”

***

The bell above the tattoo studio door rang out in the small shop once you and Minho stepped inside, making a beeline to the front desk to check in with the receptionist.

“Hello! Do you have an appointment with us today?” The woman spoke happily with a smile, which you returned.

“Yes, I have a tattoo appointment for 9:00 with somebody named Bang Chan?” You said, the statement sounding more like a question, unsure if you got the man’s name right.

The receptionist perked up and looked at her computer, “Oh! You must be (Y/n)! Have a seat here in the waiting area and fill out these papers for me, please. Chan will be out to get you momentarily.”

You took the papers from her and looked at Minho, silently urging him to pick a seat. He looked back at you and gently placed a hand on your back to guide you towards two seats in front of the window.

You sat down and began filling out the forms when Minho spoke. “You didn’t tell me you booked an appointment with Chan.” He said, watching you as your neat handwriting graced the pages in front of you.

You glanced at him but continued writing, “I didn’t know I was supposed to.” You said, a little confused.

Minho sighed, “I know Chan.” He said, almost defeatedly, which was somewhat unusual for him.

“Do you guys have bad blood or something?” You questioned with furrowed brows, putting a temporary pause on your writing.

“He races too. We met in a race a few years back and have had this kind of unspoken rivalry since.” He paused before continuing, “I don’t hate him or anything, I just find him highly irritating.” He finished, looking down at you.

“Do you want to go get something to eat while I get worked on? I don’t want to force you into an uncomfortable situation.” You suggested, not liking the idea of Minho being miserable the entire time he was with you.

Minho smirked at you, “I’m a big boy, (Y/n), I can handle a few hours with the guy.” He said sarcastically.

You didn’t have the chance to respond as an incredibly attractive man walked into the lobby. His right arm was covered in multiple tattoos, making it a sleeve. His hair was dark brown and slicked up out of his face. You took note of the black studs on his bottom lip, snake bites, and the slit shaved into one of his eyebrows.

Whatever all-powerful being may be up there was smiling down on you this week.

“I assume you’re (Y/n)?” The man asked, his slitted eyebrow quirked in question.

You nodded and stood, Minho following after you, “That’s me. I assume you’re Chan?” You responded, handing the paperwork to the receptionist and bowing in thanks.

“That’s right. Follow me, please.” He said, going to turn before pausing and looking back, “You coming too, Minho?” He haughtily questioned Minho. Said man rolled his eyes before moving to follow the two of you towards the back of the tattoo parlor.

Chan sat you down on the chair in the middle of the room, Minho sitting in the chair in the corner meant for guests.

After Chan got comfortable in his seat he looked at you, “Firstly, I need to know if this is your first tattoo. I want to make this experience as comfortable as possible for you.” He said, waving his hands as he spoke.

You gave him a small shake of your head, “I have one other tattoo that I got done a few months ago.” Chan nodded.

“Where did you get the tattoo? I want to be sure because the pain varies depending on where you are getting tattooed. If I know where your previous one is I can give you something to compare it to.” He said, being very thorough.

“My tattoo is on my sternum.” Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at your reply.

“Wow. That’s a pretty painful area to get done for your first tattoo.” He said as he moved around the room to set everything up.

“I want more body art but I want the main focus to be my sternum tattoo. Kind of like a centerpiece. It was easier to get it done first so I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally overshadowing it with something else.” You explained, watching him as he worked diligently.

Chan smiled at you, “I like your thought process there.” He complimented before continuing, “I already have the stencil done and I know you wanted it on your hand so let’s get the placement down real quick.” He spoke, grabbing the stencil in his right hand and your hand in his left one.

You began to speak, “I wanted it on the side of my hand, kind of under my thumb.” You explained, dragging the index finger of your free hand down your skin to point out the area. Chan nodded along, placing the stencil on your hand and adjusting it at your instruction.

After confirming the placement, the blue ink of the stencil was stamped onto your skin. Chan peeled the paper back, and you lifted your hand to get a proper look at it. You broke out into a grin, the familiar feeling of excitement shooting up your spine.

“Minnie, come look at it.” You said excitedly, pointing to the stencil.

Minho and Chan stared at one another as the younger man approached your figure, the tension between the two going completely unnoticed by you as you were still distracted by the stencil on your hand.

Minho was the first to break away from staring, looking down at your hand, and smiling. He gently lifted your hand as he examined it, “It looks good, sweetheart. I bet it’ll look even cooler once it’s done though.” He spoke, placing your hand back in your lap.

Minho turned to go back to his seat but you grabbing his wrist stopped his movements, “Can you drag your chair over here? I might need to hold your hand.” You said, trying your best to cover up the fact that you were a little flustered.

Minho smiled and grabbed his chair, “‘Course, doll.”

“You ready?” Chan asked, the black ink laid out and ready, his gloves on and the gun in his hand. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, the man returning it. “Good, let me know if you need a break.” He said, turning the gun on and dipping it into the ink before pressing the needle into your skin.

The three of you were silent as Chan worked, but he didn’t seem to like that, opting to break the silence. “Are you two together?” His sudden question surprised you and Minho.

Minho’s eyes widened comically as you broke out into nervous laughter, “No, we only met a week ago.” You clarified. Chan’s brows shoot up in surprise along with a glance to your face.

“That’s shocking. Minho doesn’t usually warm up to people that fast.” Chan said, focusing back on the tattoo.

You hummed and looked at the aforementioned man next to you, “I guess I’m just special then.” You said cheekily, gripping Minho’s hand and squeezing it. The man squeezed back and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, doll.”

You chuckled and turned your gaze back to Chan, “I heard you like to race.” You said flatly, shocking the artist who looked up at you in mild shock before turning his glare to the man on your right.

“Why did you tell her?” He said in an accusatory manner.

Minho smiled cheekily, “She likes to speed herself, Chris.” He said, practically boasting. “She beat me in a race a few days ago.”

Chan looked down at you, “That’s quite a feat. Minho is one of the best racers out here.” Chan stated, “What do you drive?” He questioned, his focus still on your tattoo.

“A Subaru BRZ. What about you, handsome?” You said, ignoring the way Minho’s hand tightened around yours.

Chan smiled before replying, “A Camaro. Black.” His reply was short and simple, wanting to move the attention back to you he asked another question, “You new to Seoul?”

“I moved here a few days ago and met Minho the same day. I assume you know Jeongin since everyone I’ve met seems to know him.”

“Yang Jeongin?” He questioned.

“Yeah, him. We were friends back in Busan. I was the one that got him into racing, unintentionally.” You said, mumbling the last half of your statement.

“So you’re the girl from Busan he’s always gushing about.” Chan said, “The kid doesn’t stop talking about you.”

You hummed at the new information, “Yeah well the little shit ghosted me after moving so I don’t quite understand why he’s telling all his friends about me.” You said sourly. Jeongin had yet to give you a proper explanation as to why he left you in Busan and then acted like you didn’t even exist afterward. Until he does give you a proper explanation, you are going to remain salty about it.

Chan paused his work and glanced at the man beside you, biting his lip in thought before speaking hesitantly. “Innie got into some… trouble after moving up here.” He said calmly, going back to tattooing you.

You tensed, “What kind of trouble? Something to do with racing?” You questioned.

Minho spoke up from beside you, “Something like that. He didn’t want you involved. He said you were too important to be dragged into his problems.” Minho said as he gazed at the needle of the tattoo gun pricking your skin.

You scoffed in annoyance, “I’m a big girl who has dealt with her fair share of shitty situations.” You stated, pausing before questioning the men, “Who did he piss off?”

“How did you know he pissed someone off?” Chan questioned with a tiny smirk.

“Because pissing people off is one of his many talents, unfortunately.”

Minho eventually answered your question, “He pissed off a rival group that’s known for getting violent with their competition. Innie got too cocky and said some shit he shouldn’t have.” Minho paused, “He’s learned from his mistakes. What happened back then really shook him up.”

“Rival group? There were groups back in Busan, too. Are you guys all in a group together?” Your questions were never-ending. You wanted to know everything that happened to Jeongin between now and his leaving Busan.

Minho smiled, “Yeah. Han, Jeongin, Chan, and I are the ones you have met. There are four others.” He said, locking his gaze with your own.

“I thought the two of you didn’t get along.” You said, having picked up on the tension between the two men.

“We don’t but we’re civil for the sake of the group. We tolerate each other out of mutual respect.” Chan said with a chuckle.

You nodded your head in understanding, “Who have I not met?”

Chan chuckled, “At this rate, you’ll meet the rest of them by the end of next week. Be a little patient, pretty.” He said calmly.

***

It took around an hour and a half for the tattoo to be completed due to the tedious line work. You paid and left, but not before giving your number to Chan at the man’s polite request.

“You gotta start warning me before I meet your friends, Minnie.” You stated as Minho led you around the city.

“What do you mean?” He said, looking at you from his peripheral.

You flung your arms in the air dramatically, “Your friends are all hot! I don’t want to run into one of them when I look bummy.” You complained to the man.

Minho rolled his eyes at your dramatics, “One, you run into them on your own, and two, I have never seen you look bummy.” He stated and threw you a small smile.

You huffed and crossed your arms, “That’s because I don’t let you see me look bummy.”

“Can we stop saying bummy?” Minho questioned with a lifted brow.

“I’ll stop saying it if you tell me your other friends' names. What if I know one of them?” You said matter of factly.

“Not a chance, doll.”

***

Taglist: @burningchaosdeer @noone356097 @ateezkeepmysoul @babyphotos0325 @foliea @k-p0p-4ever @obeythemasters @multeciahucho

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thegeminisage · 1 month

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i'm 'tell me what it was like in 2014' anon and can i just say. i am so honored by the time and care you put into that answer. WOW. it was such a delight to read and kind of vicariously experience. i'm 18 now so i was 9 when winter soldier came out, needless to say it was not really on my radar. But i've always been interested in those kind of golden tumblr age fandoms (doing destiel from 2020-2022 was like. the best experience of my lifeeee) and even like in middle school i was scrolling through pinterest screenshots of avengers incorrect quotes etc. that creative generativeness and collective celebration seems like. such a utopia honestly. what you described, and the cultural context of it being the mid 2010s and how media and politics and the internet wereback then seems so perfectly aligned. i'm happy you got to experience something so special! re: not easily conquered. i read it a few years ago just because of how renowned it was and. well you KNOW. and anyway the crazy fucking whiplash i got from realizing the supernatural blogger i followed later was EMILY??. the fandom's interest in history and culture is also especially beautiful to me. i will literally never see the winged victory the same way again. ik people always say fics written 2012-2015 have crack in them but stucky was on another level. people were doing literal highbrow analysis and art..that banana fic. i have i love you like rlb saved on my notes app from like 2018 when i was in middle school. the dedication and like crazy amount of work that went into the fandom is just out of this world to me. like i'd give my soul to be there honestly.. you just dont get things like that anymore. again thank you so so much for your wonderful long answer, and like honestly. if i ever pursue some project on fandom history i might ask to interview you or sth. but anyway, suffice it to say: i really really wish i could have gotten to see it first hand, but thank goodness i can still go back and read fic and look at fanart and. thank you it's been long long time by helen forrest. and i''m so glad people who were active online then are still on tumblr to talk about it all

hi sorry it took me a minute to reply i was doing accursed ten year rewatch of Movie. i have an extended reply.

you should listen to this...someone sent this to my friend and it unlocked memories i didn't knew i had

much like rlb, which was insane of you to remember, because i sure didn't. dropped that on the groupchat earlier and got to gleefully watch the horror of memories unlocked unfold on their faces

also so true about destiel tumblr. sustained madness. i romanticized stucky tumblr a little in my answer bc of nostalgia like i wasn't also making mortal enemies at the same time (i sometimes spot the urls of people who made me mad back then and have a ratatouille flashback) i was making those lifelong friends BUT you're not missing anything major bc the destiel madness FAR exceeded the stucky madness. there was just so much more mania to it.

when i was in high school i had the enduring desire to have been born in the 60s so i could be a hippie full time. i thought their clothes and anti-establishment attitudes were groovy. i feel like this is you about mid-2010s tumblr and i absolutely love that for you.

that said, you may not get movies like cap2 anymore but you will certainly get fandoms like it...i recently got into trek and reading spockanalia and all their vintage fic from the 60s and 70s and 80s and seeing in some ways how spock shock is so similar to destiel madness (and THEY didn't even have the internet) has taught me that the girlies gender neutral have been out here and primed to go insane from day one and that as long as there are mentally ill teens and 20-somethings who like media there will always be people who go insane about the media. they will grow into the 30-somethings and 40-somethings and higher that write the good fic and sell the smutty fanzines under the tables at cons. there will never be another tos or cap2 or nov 5 but certainly there will always be SOMETHING to go joyfully nuts about on the internet. the tricky part is just finding ur people

#liz answers asks #anonymous #personal #i will rb this tomorrow to make sure u see it since im answering at fuck o clock #also i remembered a detail i left out of my previous ask #which is fandom looking up the locations of shooting certain scenes and figuring out steves apartment was in the gay part of dc lmao #UNWELL!

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dearestaeneas · 1 year

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resisting the temptation to ask you every one of the questions from the writer ask game and instead asking: 2, 3, 7, 13 (i'm guessing i know the answer to this but consider this an open invitation to share some fun lore), 26, 29, 30

kicking my feet and writing your name in hearts all over my dream journal

2) my two newest ocs are Matt + Justin! i was working on a thing for a zine i want to submit to, and the theme was 70s/80s/90s campy horror, so i picked just two lame ass 90s boy names. it's a silly little queer slasher story that i didn't expect to go so in-depth on!

3) uhhhhhh. my biggest self insert is probably that John Dearheart character i post little blurbs about sometimes. i realized i'm probably gonna need to change his name if i post more about him, though, because i completely forgot he's a Discworld character. i've been rereading Going Postal lately and while i was waiting for the library loan to come in i was scrolling through its tumblr tag and got whiplash seeing his name. it is deeply humbling thinking you had an original name and not only seeing its an already-established character, but an already-established character from a BOOK YOU'VE READ BEFORE. outside of him as my vent character, i put myself into all my characters! i'm very vain! Branwen and Ardan are my two biggest ones from hh, and lately its been Branwen more just for the sake of story themes :3

7) Celeste and the Old God is actually one of my favorite pairs to write about, and it's wild to me that i don't have them interact more. i think what really gets me about them is that Celeste's entire deal is that she's...normal. she has a "normal," healthy relationship with religion, and criticizing it is included in that, i think. and for that reason, those two are the closest to being equals. having one character be a devout believer/her religious trauma being something you actively get to see be established throughout the story (branwen) v. another character who's extremely cynical to the point of numbness who doesn't believe in anything (ardan), and in a context where branwen is genuinely helpless vs. ardan having more control than he realizes/freaks him out when he does realize it, it's so fun to write Celeste as being on equal playing ground. it's important to me that her entire deal is "actually no fuck you, you need me just as much as i need you." and i think that equal playing ground is why they have kind of a begrudging friendship.

i also like writing branwen and ardan together because they are bisexual.

13) not really any of them i don't do that kind of stuff<3*

26) American Gods!!! And Slaughterhouse Five. those are the two i always automatically say when asked! i read If We Were Villains sometime last year and it rewired my brain, also. i found it because of The Secret History, which also rewired my brain. Both of those books fundamentally changed my brain chemistry, but secret history did it derogatorily, if that makes sense. great book. i never think i have feelings about it until i start talking about it. Donna Tartt i am nearing your location. (also Piranesi!<3)

29) probably Harry Potter? unfortunately? (also, sucks that i have to say 'unfortunately'. like most people, those stupid books were very important to me at one point in my life! mostly because of the stuff i did with my friends because of it! go fuck yourself, Joanne!) i deffo wrote fanfic, though. i had a huuuuge fic i handwrote with a bunch of my friends

not my first fandom, but i thought you'd appreciate: i was also a huge percy jackson kid. obviously. probably more so than harry potter. i took latin in middle school, and one year we had this pretty big multi-part project where we could pick different prompts for different parts. super cool and fun, had i been the person i am now who actually like, cares about things and puts effort into them! but i suffered from the disease of all middle schoolers where i Fucking Sucked. i didn't realize one of my parts was due one day, and during the lunch period i speed-wrote percy jackson fanfiction that i had to Read Out Loud To The Class and then hand in for a grade. i got a 100, but only after reading it out loud, having what i believe was my first out of body experience, and then going back to my seat where one of my friends leaned over and said "was that the fucking plot of Mark of Athena"

30) good!!!! we're actively getting a snowstorm and i'm hoping it keeps up so work is cancelled tomorrow! who knows how lucky i'll be but i can hope!!

*if i was normal i could have left 13 at that and just let myself be funny, but i am nothing if not verbose. obviously hh! in taking up your offer to share fun lore, there's one character who i have been avoiding talking about because i think everything about him is so integral to the plot that like, making goofs about him would be a spoiler (is that...full of myself to say? it would be, though). that said, since the idea of "equals" is so relevant throughout hh, he's been fun to write because he technically falls on the Celeste end of the spectrum, but he's using it for evil. literally. a lot of his deal is unintentionally "what makes a god a god" and how he's this sort of nebulous figure because no one can agree what his deal is. he is accidentally my Odysseus character, and it kills me to admit that. little pansexual freak who wants to kill god.

#thank you!!!!!!!!!#my beloved!!!#mwah!!!!#sorry its so very long!!!!!!!!!

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ackerfics · 3 years

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slow dance with you — mikasa ackerman

— goth!mikasa ackerman x soft!female reader (modern au)

— warnings: slight mention of alcohol, pure rotten fluff

— summary: after gaining some courage from the drinks she had in the party and from the advice she got from her friends, mikasa is ready to become your girlfriend.

— word count: 3.9k

— author’s notes: i would like to thank the anon who gave me some ideas for goth!mikasa, you are so amazing !! thank you for the small headcanons. and since we’re on the topic of writing abt goth!mikasa, i couldn’t help but pair her up with a classic soft girl who likes to wear pink at every time of the day. this dynamic is based on marceline and princess bubblegum so i hope you enjoy !!

p.s. the reader will have dyed hair here, if this is not your cup of tea, just let this fly by your dash.

listen to this while reading.

“She dyed her hair pink,” came a dazed yet mesmerized tone.

“You’re staring at her again.”

Mikasa jumped on her seat at Eren’s nonchalant observation. She whipped her head to her best friend, his attention directed on his laptop, hands flying across the keyboard as he typed out the next few words in his essay. Noticing the incredulous look the black-haired girl was shooting him, Eren rose an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. Mikasa huffed, crossing her eyes with a subtle hue of red on her cheeks, complimenting her dark lipstick. “I am not staring,” she mumbled. “Shut up, Eren.” She looked away from her subject of interest but continued shooting small glances.

Eren sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was always one of the witnesses of his best friend slash sister being meek around her crush. At first, he was teasing her because not going to lie, Mikasa’s crush is a pretty person but as their years in college made them juniors, Eren will be the reckless idiot that he is (courtesy of Armin) and set Mikasa up. But he liked to live his life out first — Mikasa will probably curse him with that spellbook she bought from the antique bookshop they encountered in their little exploration back when they were first-years. “Mikasa, why don’t you take the chance and confess to her? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”

“If she rejects me? What then?”

“Then that’s the next problem that you will have to face.” The brown-haired boy turned back to his essay. He stared at his laptop screen blankly before spewing out curses. “Now, I forgot what to write next! Damn it.” He picked up his iced coffee and drank from the metal straw as his life depended on it.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at her best friend’s first statement. “Gee, thanks for the advice. It was very much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of help.”

There was a thud on their table that made the two look up from their respective activities. Eren had a scowl on his face because for the nth time this day, he was interrupted from finishing his essay (for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t want to fail Ackerman’s class). Mikasa blinked from scrolling through her crush’s Twitter account (the last post she wrote was about how Levi Ackerman, Mikasa’s relative and everyone’s Anthropology professor) and fixed her attention on their blonde friend, Armin. He looked too bright after a round of morning classes, something that Eren doesn’t comprehend. The blue-eyed young man has always been the rational and genius third of their little group. There wasn’t a time where Armin’s advice got a situation to erupt in flames. It was either the situation became an inferno instead (Eren) or nobody had the guts to do it (Mikasa).

“Hey, guys!” Armin greeted, arranging his side of the table, meticulously placing each component of his lunch in front of him. “How were your morning classes?”

“Shit,” Eren spat out.

“Of course, it is.”

“They were alright,” Mikasa shrugged.

“Figured.” Armin glanced at his friend’s sides of the table, nodding at Mikasa’s balanced lunch while blankly staring at Eren’s laptop. The device should’ve been a good tray of lunch. “I thought you were eating lunch, Eren? That’s what you said in your text.”

“Can’t,” the brown-haired boy huffed. He gestured at his iced coffee without taking his eyes off the laptop. “I guess, this counts as my lunch.”

“When’s that essay due?”

“In about,” Eren looked at the time on his laptop, “three hours. Ackerman is my first period later. That fucking terror professor has no mercy when it comes to this. Can he just piss off for once? Mikasa, do you even tell him to get laid? Because I think that would solve his attitude. I swear to God, he’s getting more pissed every damn day.”

“Wow, I guess getting my short, grumpy, middle-aged uncle to start his sex life will be a nice conversation starter,” Mikasa drawled, half-lidded, bored eyes reading every tweet her crush has posted for the entire week. Mikasa couldn’t help but smile at one post about a new movie her crush just watched, saying that it was now a new favorite. She was tempted to give a heart on every single post but that would it weird because they never followed each other despite the small interactions they shared in between classes. With a sigh, she looked up, only to be met with Eren’s unamused stare. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What? Do you think that would work, Eren? Levi is probably a virgin his whole life and will continue his record until he’s all shriveled up.” Eren blanched at the image. “Just finish your homework and stop complaining.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough, that’s for sure. If you just started that essay the day he assigned it to your class, you would have finished it way before the deadline.”

Eren pointed at Mikasa with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even go there, Mikasa. I have a life aside from being a sleep-deprived college student.”

“I mean, she’s got a point, Eren.” Armin immediately rose his hands in defense when Eren shifted his glare from the black-haired young woman to him. “You always tend to procrastinate in the most impeccable timing that we sometimes have to remind you of your backlogs. And now, here you are, doing things last minute when you could’ve prevented the rush by doing it immediately.”

“Thanks for slapping the reality to my face, you two,” Eren dryly replied, going back to his essay for the final time. “And by the way, Armin, give Mikasa some solid advice that she will finally follow because she’s making googly eyes at Miss Pretty two tables from us a couple of minutes before you arrived. You know, the love of her life?”

Armin roamed his eyes in the lunch hall and sure enough, there was Mikasa’s goddess sitting with her group of friends. There was that brown-haired girl that was dubbed as the Potato Girl for eating mashed potatoes during Ackerman’s class (the professor told the class his rules of no eating or going out of the room while he’s discussing the moment the girl took a spoonful of her snack). A young man with a buzz cut snorting at what the brown-haired girl said. Armin remembered sharing a class with him. He never got the chance to introduce himself because the young man was sleeping throughout the lecture. There was usually a fourth person in the little group but it seems like he was running late or already in his class. That person was Eren’s sworn frenemy, the reason for that relationship was unknown to this day.

The three people at the table all stood up, the brown-haired girl and the taller young man leading the way. Armin instantly had an idea.

“Hey, [Name]!”

Mikasa nearly had whiplash from turning her head to Armin. “Armin?!” she hissed under her breath, face becoming hotter when you looked at their table, a bright smile lighting up your face. You called your friends, telling them to go on ahead without you, to which they nodded before walking towards the trio’s table. Her brain wasn’t processing the moment you lifted a hand to wave at whoever you were smiling at. Mikasa wished it was her. “Fuck,” she whispered, registering how cute you look. You donned a salmon pink plaid sundress and a white cardigan, matching with the bubblegum pink locks you let down. Her heart was hammering a thousand miles per second and there was no hope of stopping it.

“Hi, Armin,” you replied, stopping a few feet from Mikasa, who looked away from you to fix her wide-eyed stare on her empty plate.

“I was just going to ask if you already have a partner in our Molecular Biology lab?” The blue-eyed young man then turned to Mikasa and Eren. “I’m in the same class as her this year.”

“As if calling her here wasn’t that obvious,” Eren murmured, still typing out his essay.

“I don’t need your dry remarks right now, Eren, don’t want to ruin the atmosphere. So, [Name], you have a partner?”

You shook your head. “I think not. It would be great if we could be partners though. I need a break from the people I’ve been partnered with throughout college.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. It was true, though. Most of the grouping during your first years of college were all set up by the teachers so the students really had no say on the matter at hand. Even Armin was exposed to a variety of students, most of them being too slacking to participate or too overbearing with their suggestions that they have no plans of doing. He nodded with a smile, “I’ll be sending an email to Professor Zoe about this and we’re done.” He glanced behind you, noticing that your two friends weren’t there anymore. “I’m sorry for holding you up. I’m pretty sure you have a class after lunch. See you around?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, I told them to go ahead since Sasha has a class scheduled right after lunch and Connie had to nap in his dorm. And I don’t have any class the whole afternoon, except for an online session so yeah, see you around, Armin.” You acknowledge Eren with a nod, to which he responded with a cool expression (as if his mind wasn’t a mess from the cramming), and gave a soft smile to Mikasa, “Bye, Mikasa.” And you were off to your dorm, leaving behind two amused men and an awestruck Mikasa.

The black-haired young woman was hyperventilating the moment you disappeared from the lunch hall, hands clenched on top of her black shorts. She regretted wearing a thin, long-sleeved striped sweater under her black shirt because it was so fucking hot after that encounter. Her entire body was vibrating with too many emotions all at once, short-circuiting until she became a heap of flustered mess in front of her best friends. “Oh, my God,” she muttered like a prayer. She definitely needed one after seeing you all pretty in pink. It was too much for her soul because you two are a perfect match this time. Her grommet belt and choker were not helping because she couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Mikasa, breathe,” Armin reminded beside her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Once she regained her composure, Mikasa realized she probably looked like a gaping fish. “Oh, my God! I’m so sure that this time, she thinks I’m weird. My name is the only one she mentioned aside from Armin which is saying something because she’s classmates with him. But why did she say goodbye to me? Oh, my God, she’s giving me so many butterflies right now.”

“Your gay is showing,” Eren pointed out calmly.

“Eren, not the time,” Armin murmured, hovering his hands over Mikasa’s back.

“Just wanted to alleviate the tense atmosphere. No need to get so worked up.”

“But, Mikasa, your feelings for her are showing.”

Eren clapped his hands, pointing a finger at Armin. “That, my friend, is a genius observation.”

Ignoring the green-eyed man, Armin continued, “I think it’s time you confess to her. Three years is a pretty long time pining for a person. In the end, her knowing your feelings will be inevitable. That is if you have no plans in letting her know.”

“Of course, I want her to know,” Mikasa murmured, fiddling with the sleeves of her striped long-sleeves.

“I heard that there’s a party this Saturday in Reiner’s frat,” Eren told them, meeting both of his friends’ eyes over the top of his laptop screen. “We’re in the same football team with Jean. The horseface is a friend of your girl,” he nodded at Mikasa, who erupted in a sputter of her crush not being her girl, “okay, not your girl — yet. As I was saying, [Name] is good friends with Jean and if Jean is there, Miss Pretty in Pink will be, too. That’s your chance to ask her out, Mikasa.” He met the blinking gray eyes of his best friend. “The question is, are you up for that?”

“You were staring at her so hard at lunch again.”

You looked up from your book to acknowledge Sasha entering your dorm room after a whole afternoon of packed lectures. The brown-haired young woman was so tired that she immediately plopped on top of her bed on the other side of the room. At first, you didn’t register what she said because you were preoccupied with your book. You chose to indulge the night in a good book because it has been a long time since you’ve done that. With furrowed eyebrows, you asked, “Can you repeat what you said, Sasha?”

Sasha tilted her head to look at you with one eye uncovered by her duvet. Her hair fluttered after puffing out a breath of disbelief. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no idea, Miss Pretty in Pink.”

“That’s because I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, gesturing at your novel. “And what’s with that Miss Pretty in Pink nickname? Did some of the students around campus started that?”

“Sort of,” Sasha hummed. She sat up from her bed and took out her phone from her backpack lying on the floor. You watched the whole time she stretched her arm without changing her position on her bed. With her phone in hand, she opened her Twitter account. “Actually, a friend of mine tweeted it, wait, I’m just going to scroll through my Likes tab to find her tweet. Oh, here it is.” Sasha showed you her screen, patiently waiting for you to take the device from her hand to get a closer look. Her hopeful smile turned into a small pout when you made no moves in doing so. “Take my phone and see for yourself.”

You sighed, following her pleas. “It’s probably just someone from the volleyball team. You know how some of them never stopped following me around campus. Can’t they take the hint that they’re not my type?”

“This person is much better than those himbo simps following you around. She’s an amazing person behind that shy exterior of hers.”

You only hummed, blankly staring at your roommate’s phone before your eyes widened in realization. Your eyes skimmed over and over again at the handle, mkackerman, beside the display picture of a short-haired girl in pigtails. It was the girl that managed to capture your attention during your first year at Eldia University. The girl with an air of mystique that the stars are jealous of. You always admired her from afar, appreciating her style each day. But your admiration was getting replaced with something more at the five words she tweeted.

You’re so pretty in pink.

Roses bloomed in your cheeks, complimenting your pink hair the longer you gawked at her short post.

“What?” you breathed out after a full minute of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Sasha hummed with a smug smile. “And who dyed her hair pink impulsively last weekend?” She intentionally looked at you with sharp eyes, her smile turning into a smirk full of mischief. In actuality, Sasha knew of Mikasa’s crush on you since they were acquainted with each other. It was an embarrassing first meeting between the two, with Sasha latching on a random person’s arm in the station and it turned out to be Mikasa. The two became great friends after that, well, after Mikasa lowered her guard down, leaving her pocket knife safely tucked underneath her checkered skirt. It was Sasha who managed to make Mikasa confess of her undying love for you, the former squealing her heart out in the library. (They were kicked out after that.)

“I don’t know,” you denied. “There could be a couple of people in the campus who thought that spontaneously dyeing their hair pink is an awesome idea.” You threw your hands in the air, giving back Sasha her phone right after.

“Trust me. Mikasa doesn’t have any interest in any other girl other than a special someone I know.”

You chose to ignore her, turning back on the discarded book on top of your covers. The words flew around your mind, aggravating you until you placed the novel on your lap. A defeated sigh came out of your lips. “Okay, let’s go out for some dinner.” You stretched, switching your pajama bottoms for a pair of loose jeans, and leaving your button-down pajama top on. The people in public will never know your top is a part of a pajama set. As you ducked down to roll the bottom of your jeans, you hear Sasha’s bed shuffling. Sitting up, you regarded her with an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

“Oh, alright. Jean told me to bring you to a party.”

You stood up, patting your lap of imaginary dust, placing your things and book inside your tote bag. “Tell him no. I have a written exam coming up and I don’t want to fail one of my majors. He can manage without one person in our friendship group.”

Sasha huffed, mimicking your actions. “This will be the last time!”

“You said that the previous party you pulled me to.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “I couldn’t get up for a whole day because of that party. Don’t forget your wallet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha threw her wallet in her small bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “I promise that this will be the last time, I’ll even call Connie for the witness of my pact!” She placed a heartfelt palm over her chest, lifting her chin a little in the air. “I solemnly swear I am … keeping my promise.”

“You hesitated.”

The brown-haired girl giggled sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kind of hard not to continue the quote from Harry Potter. You can’t blame me for that!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better because Mikasa will be there.”

You blinked at her statement. “What does this have to do with her?”

Your roommate looped her arm with yours, pulling you in the direction of the elevators. “Because,” it sounded like she was talking to a child, “you were staring at her earlier during lunch period. I understand that because Mikasa looks so good every second of the day but there was something different about the way you’re staring at her.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me see, there’s some pizzaz there.”

“The pizzaz you’re talking about is me admiring her make-up — nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” came Sasha’s sing-song voice. “I will be the first one who will say ‘I told you so’ to your face when you two start dating.”

The night of the party was not as bizarre as you thought.

Sure, there were people having shots in the living room but there weren’t any extreme scenarios lying around unlike some of the parties Connie and Jean went to. It was mostly catching up with old friends or making connections with strangers by ranting about the education system of your university. All in all, it was a fun night, yet here you are, holding your cup of beer with two hands as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of Sasha. Your roommate disappeared as you turned to get a shot, leaving a confused you behind. To think you specifically asked Sasha to be by your side throughout the night. You cursed in your head, you being reliant on the presence of others surfacing. Your stress made you tip your head back, downing your drink in a go.

Without anything to do, you leaned back on the wall. Mind hazy, eyes glassy, you searched the living room for a spunky brown-haired girl that you were supposed to be buddies with. Instead of Sasha, you met gazes with a girl with stars for her eyes. She was equally mesmerized as she was staring straight at you. Everything became silent as your heartbeat resonated with hers. She was beautiful in her all-black outfit — a leather pencil skirt over fishnet stockings, cropped tank top, and combat boots. The two of you are contrasting with one another; her lipstick so dark whilst yours shone a pretty coral, her hair framing her face in a midnight pixie cut whilst yours were in pink waves cascading down, her entire appearance blending in the background whilst you were a beacon with your coordinating soft outfit.

God damn it, Sasha was right.

You are definitely falling in love with Mikasa Ackerman.

Mikasa who you saw reading tarot cards of her blonde friend. Mikasa who you bumped into during the opening ceremony two years ago. Mikasa who you discovered to have an affinity for electric guitars when you stumbled in one of the auditoriums, her department’s band having an audition. Mikasa who never meets your gaze because you make her nervous at how effortless you carry yourself.

But tonight, she never looked away from you, her eyes having an adoring yet determined shine.

She stopped in front of you, mere inches separating you two. You looked up at her, her combat boots making her taller than she already is. You saw her eyes flick to your lips, your breath hitching at the thought of having her dark lipstick on any part of your body. With a careful tilt of her head, Mikasa ducked her head a little to fully meet your eyes face to face. “I saw you’re alone,” her voice is still soft-spoken as if she was afraid that she was scaring you. It might be because of the liquid and verbal courage she got from drinking and listening to her best friends because Mikasa had no plans of letting you go tonight. “I thought you needed company.”

A breath came out of your lips, your proximity making Mikasa feel it. “Uhm, if it’s you, I don’t see why not?”

A large smile brightened Mikasa’s face before it dimmed as she lowered her gaze to your lips once more. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”

Maybe your mind was too hazy with alcohol or it could be because you accepted your feelings for the black-haired girl, so you whispered, lips brushing against hers in the most addicting way possible, “Just kiss me, Mikasa.”

Her lips softly moved against yours in a slow dance, the inches separating you disappearing as Mikasa wrapped an arm around your waist. You lift a hand to cup her jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and to brush your tongue with hers. You felt her shiver, biting your lower lip to make you open up more, with your whimpers tingling her hearing. Mikasa pulled away, trailing firm kisses on the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Seeing the black kiss mark on your skin, she smiled and placed fluttering kisses on your neck up to your cheek. Opening your eyes, the silver grays in front of you have never been so beautiful. You returned the favor of placing kiss marks. You stood on your tiptoes, feeling Mikasa’s hand steadying you, and left a coral pink mark on the corner of her mouth.

Mikasa dipped her head, placing her lips close to your ear.

“I want to slow dance with you,” she sung to your ear. “I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues. I want to slow dance with you.” Mikasa hid a small smile at your flustered expression. “So can I be your vampire queen, Bonnie?”

The moment you said yes, there was a shout in the crowds. “Hell yeah, your plan worked, Eren, Armin!”

You and Mikasa stared at each other with wide eyes before laughing.

“Let’s go ditch this party.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Bonnie.”

#attack on titan #aot #mikasa #Mikasa Ackerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman x you #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk anime #goth!mikasa #i am a sucker for this dynamic #attack on titan x reader

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justcourttee · 3 years

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Hi I love your fics and maribat. Tall Girl (Netflix) reminds me a lot about Timari. So maybe to something with that. (With Mari thinking that Tim's confessions were all jokes and wanting Ardien who was roped into dating lila and it's the class making fun of mari.)

Oh goodness, this took ages and I both apologize and hope it's what you were looking for! 24 pages and over ten thousand words! For reference, that's 20% of my first multi-part Maribat piece!

Average

In a world where everyone is looking for extraordinary, how do you survive when you’re just average?

I’ve spent my whole life mulling over the thought, trying to find a way to be extraordinary, trying to find a way to be noticed, and constantly failing.

It wasn’t like it was from a lack of effort, I really did give my all to everything I tried, it was just, there was always someone better.

Specifically, one insufferable bitch named Lila Rossi.

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘Marinette, it’s not fair to call Lila a bitch just because she was better than you,’ and if it were a normal rivalry, I could agree with you. But you simply don’t know Lila Rossi.

Lila has been a thorn in my side since we met on the soccer field at just ten years old. I accidentally bumped into her sending us both tumbling to the ground and she took that personally. Slapping my hand away, she bawled the worst fake tears I had seen in my ten short years until the coach benched me. Can you imagine the embarrassment of being benched in elementary school soccer?

Ever since that day, anytime we were placed together it always ended in disaster, especially for me.

Now, as much as I would love to on about how awful the sausage-haired brat is, I’m sure that’s not what you came here for. So let me break it down for you. If you are looking for your typical girl meets boy, they fall in love and live happily after, you should scroll now. It’s only fair to warn you. After all, I don’t want you to be disappointed when we reach the ending. I’ll give you a second.

Still here?

Well, hold on tight. Because the story I am about to tell you isn’t much to just anyone, but it’s everything to me and my average life.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It all started on a Tuesday in August when he arrived.

Adrien Agreste.

“Class, I want you to welcome our exchange student, Adrien Agreste! He’s here all the way from Paris, France, and will be finishing the year with us. Adrien, why don’t you tell the class something about yourself?”

I couldn’t even focus on the words that escaped from his precious lips. His voice was so silky, like softened butter on one of Papa’s fresh muffins. Everything about him screamed perfect from his thoughtfully placed hair to his shining green eyes. He was simply-

“-Earth to Mari! You could at least try to hide your drool.”

My eyes snapped shut as I took a deep breath.

“Tim, I am not drooling. And you know I hate it when you whisper in my ear! It tickles!”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat backward, his eyes narrowing to where Adrien stood in the front of the room, a pristine white smile earning giggles from every female in the class.

“I don’t like him. Something seems off about him. He’s too-too-”

“Perfect?” I chuckled to myself as the heat rose to Tim’s cheeks, his eyebrows settling into their usual aggravated pose. “I don’t know what has your panties in such a twist Wayne, but shouldn’t we try to get to know him first? I think he seems nice.”

Tim huffed under his breath, his cheeks filling with air. It was hard for me to contain my giggles as he mumbled to himself, his pout deepening.

Tim Drake-Wayne. He is my absolute, undeniable, unshakeable best friend. We met back when my parents decided to drag me halfway across the world for a change of pace. I was in the fifth grade when a young irritable boy with a coffee addiction wandered into the bakery alone, demanding a double shot of espresso to deal with the day.

After several visits, we became closer and closer until we were inseparable. Tim’s been through a lot. He was emotionally abused by his parents, forced to mature too quickly. We had just entered the eighth grade when those same parents died and he was adopted by the town’s billionaire, Bruce Wayne. I was sure I would never see him again, but after much convincing (bugging), Bruce decided public school was best for Tim so that he wouldn’t be isolated again.

I adore Tim with my whole heart, really, but there is one thing he does that I absolutely despise.

“After school today, let me take you to the new coffee shop that just opened! It’ll be just like a date.” His wink only strengthened my urge to knock him flat.

“First of all, quit joking about my lack of a love life. I don’t need a pity date from you. Second, how do you switch so easily from grueling to jokes? Don’t you get whiplash or something?”

It’s a daily occurrence. I mention someone I like or that someone is cute and immediately Tim jokes about how it would just be easier if I dated him instead. It’s the only thing he does that has ever truly gotten on my nerves.

My gaze returned to the front of the classroom where Adrien had settled into his new seat. Even the back of his head had every hair perfectly placed. How did he even begin to manage that? I wasn’t sure how long I had stared, but before I knew it the bell had sounded and I was whisked away by Tim before I could even say hi.

The same pattern repeated itself every day for weeks.

Every time I would work up the courage to say something to him, Tim drug me away as fast as he could manage. Although, I can’t place the entire blame on Tim. There was one other factor, one factor worse than Tim.

Lila Rossi.

As student body president, she vowed that it was her duty to show Adrien around the school and around town. I spent every night scrolling through dozens of snapchats and instagram stories filled with her hanging off of his arm.

Even if I could escape Tim’s grasps, there was no way she would let me get in a ten-foot radius of him.

At least, that was what I thought. There was one time during the day that Adrien had a moment to himself. Fifth period when the music room was abandoned and most took off for their internships or club activities.

I discovered him by accident, truly. My club had let out early for the day and while most people would take off to head home or to one of Gotham’s more popular afternoon hangouts, I wanted to wait for Tim.

It was never my plan to corner him, but as I flung open the music room’s door without a second thought, my eyes met startled green and my heart dropped to my stomach.

“I’m so sorry! Usually, the music room is empty right now and I thought I could find some peace, and I didn’t know you were in here and oh my god I’m such a dork.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth before I could spiral any further, his widening eyes sending my heart deeper. This was it. I finally had a chance to introduce myself and I wasted it. If there was any way I could just slink away, crawl into a six-foot hole, and simply wither away in misery, I would take it without hesitation.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll just head out no-” I could feel the heat rising to my face as the most precious sound I ever had the pleasure of experiencing erupted from him. His laugh could literally cure cancer, I was sure of it.

“No, no, you’re fine! Marinette, right?” He knew my name? Adrien Agreste, the most perfect man in the world, no, in the universe, knew who I was?

I could barely find the strength to nod, the heat in my cheeks becoming unbearable. He offered a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck in such a gentle and shy manner. It was too effective. There was no way I wasn’t going to pass out before Tim got out of his AV club.

“I’m sorry, I also didn’t realize that anyone used this room besides me. I’ve spent the past few weeks in here while everyone was in their clubs.”

“You didn’t want to join anything?” Was my voice always this high? I couldn’t remember. To be honest, I was still in a daze from his precious laugh.

“It wasn’t that! It’s just, there’s nothing here that really interests me. I prefer classical things, like the piano and musicals and French theater. Nothing that interests normal kids our age.”

French theater? I knew some from the days I spent with my Grandfather in Paris. He was a sucker for classical things as well.

“I don’t think that those are weird interests. I mean, I prefer to design as my hobby, but I’ve spent quite a few hours watching French musicals with my papy. I am very knowledgable if I do say so myself.”

Adrien’s smile was blinding as he slid over on the piano bench, offering the spot beside him. My heart had finally returned to normal, but just one small motion had sent it into a flurry as it desperately tried to escape my chest.

“Let’s make a bet Marinette.” I found myself nodding before he even finished his sentence, his infectious smile starting to pull a smile of my own. “If you can guess the song and musical, you can ask for anything you want from me.”

“And if I get it wrong?” I was so sure the air was thinner beside him, the glint in his eyes drawing my breath away.

“Then I can ask you for anything I want, deal?” I hesitated for a moment, unable to comprehend that he would even want anything from me to begin with, but seconds later my head began to move, my breathing scarce.

I closed my eyes as his fingers hit the first notes, a beautiful melody following. The song was so familiar, so simple, but it was so hard to focus with him so close by. All too soon, the echoes of the final note rang through the room until a deafening silence settled atop of it.

“So, any guesses?”

I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth, a name settling in the forefront of my mind.

“It’s definitely Sur Deux Notes, but for some reason, I can’t remember the musical”

My eyes flickered open as I resisted the urge to jolt backward. His face was mere centimeters away, everything about him urging me to lean forward, to give in.

“A true tragedy Miss Marinette,” a finger popped up to bop my nose before he slid off the bench, offering his hand to help me stand. “You got it half right! It’s from the musical Les Chansons d'Amour. Which means-”

His pauce was dramatic as I stood, his grip on my hand loose.

“I win! Therefore, I get to ask you for anything correct? That was the deal?” His smirk was so playful, it almost felt dangerous. “So, Ma Dame, what are your plans this weekend?”

“Nothing!” That was definitely too quick, do I look desperate? Honestly, if it meant staring at that smile for a second more, I found myself caring less and less.

“Then, how about I help you refresh your musical knowledge? I believe I can get ahold of a copy of the original Les Chansons d’Amour by Saturday.”

This was a date, right? I wasn’t dreaming, the red throbbing spot on my arm pretty much guaranteed it. Somewhere along the line, I must have nodded, and as he gently released my hand turning to grab his bag, all the warmth left with him. Already, I found myself longing for his touch again.

“I hate to ask, but can you meet me at Wayne Manor? I’m sure Mounseir Bruce would allow me to borrow a car, but I am not quite comfortable asking him for something like that.”

“Sure-” I felt the gears turning in my head until the final one clicked into place. “I’m sorry, did you say Wayne Manor? As in Bruce Thomas Wayne? Gotham’s Favorite Billionaire?”

“Ah yes,” his hand moved to the back of his neck, a sheepish smile replacing his confident one from moments before. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but he was the only one my father would let me stay with. I couldn’t even apply for housing because he already had it set up. Does that make you feel awkward?”

“Oh no, of course not! I’m well acquainted with the Waynes! In fact, there is one that I forgot I was supposed to meet today. Can I give you my number really quick?”

As I handed him his phone and we bid goodbye, I couldn’t even begin to relish in the high I was feeling. No. The only thing I could focus on was how to murder one little Wayne boy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Marinette, c’mon! It’s not that serious. So what if I didn’t tell you that Adrien was staying here?”

I tapped my pencil against my forehead, trying to ignore the pestering fly beside me.

The minute I had stepped out of the music room a couple of days before, I encountered two of the biggest thorns in my life. Tim paling at the sight of my rage and one insufferable bitch wearing the ugliest scowl. He ran from me then, he ignored my texts and calls, and I’m assuming once Adrien mentioned our date to Bruce, he decided there was no more avoiding it.

“Besides, he sounds pretty cheap if he’s making you meet him at Bruce’s house. Watching musicals? Like with your grandfather? Is he ancient or something?”

I gritted my teeth, trying to maintain the silence. There were so many things I wanted to say to him at the moment, but seeing him squirm was the best revenge. Tim loved silence unless it was purposely directed at him. His brothers taught me that years ago.

The bell sounded through the room and I quickly darted out before he could attempt another backhanded apology.

These were the days that I missed my Paris friends. Besides Tim, I was utterly alone. I mean, I technically could hang out with Tim’s siblings, but then I’d still have to see him. There was one person that lived outside the Wayne household, yet I wasn’t sure if I was ready to cross that line yet.

I walked home alone again.

Realistically speaking, I needed to at least work up the patience to face him before Saturday. It was almost a guarantee that he would be there. It wasn’t like he would go out on the weekends. But with only two days just seemed too soon.

I had barely walked into the bakery when my mother excitedly waved me down the landline in hand.

“Marinette! A boy from your school is on the line!”

I raised an eyebrow as I accepted the phone, waving her off. There was only one boy that knew the landline number and that was Tim, but if he were on the phone, she would’ve said so.

“Hello?”

The silence was deafening. For a moment, I was sure they had hung up and was about to follow suit when a soft voice sent chills down my spine.

“Marinette? It’s Adrien. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

My breath caught in my throat. Did he ask Tim for my number? But he has my cell? It didn’t matter how he got it or why he was using it, I just needed to respond.

“No-” I cleared my throat trying to find my real voice because it certainly wasn’t how I just spoke. “No, it’s not a bother at all.”

“Great, so, I heard from Lila that there was a homecoming dance coming up. I haven’t been to one before, but I was wondering if I could go with you?”

“Of course I would love-” My heart sank before I could finish my sentence. Laughter cut me off, two distinct laughs that I could pick out from anywhere. “Don’t you ever get tired Lila!”

“Oh my god, you were so excited huh? Pretty pathetic that you think he would fall for you after one conversation Mari dear.”

I didn’t even know how to respond. She wasn’t wrong. We shared one song and haven’t even gone on one date yet, why would I even believe this for one moment?

“Yo Mari, what’s good xinh đẹp?” I felt my hand rising to massage my temples before I could even find the strength to respond.

“Kim, were you trying to call her beautiful, or do you just suck that much at your grandmother’s native language?”

Muffled arguing continued for a few minutes, a few too many for me to question why I still hadn’t hung up. There was a concerning shriek before silence followed.

“I’m surprised you’re still here dumbinette, do you like being degraded by me?” Her laughter sounded like nails on a chalkboard and I could feel the tightness in my chest rising to my throat. “I just wanted to call to make one thing clear. Stay away from Adrien Agreste. I set my sights on him the minute he walked through those doors back in August and I don’t want you to think for even a second in that pitiful brain of yours that you even have a chance, okay?”

I wanted to argue, I wanted to rub it in her face that I had a date this Saturday, one I didn’t have to force upon him like she had the past few weeks. But the tightness had settled, crushing my windpipes. My hand inched down from my temple to my eyes where they were met with a warm wet tear.

“Mmkay, that was all babe! See you at school, hugs and kisses! Mwah!”

The phone stayed pressed to my ear for too long, the dial tone mocking my existence.

It was just two more days till my date, but I felt less confident as the days passed. A single thought passed through my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. No matter how I felt, I couldn’t cave in and call Tim. Yeah, that’s right, I was still mad at him. But was I really?

I was so sure that I was pissed beyond belief when I had to hear from Adrien that he was staying with him, but that wasn’t something that was completely out of my mind. Tim had done worse things than withhold information about someone I thought was cute.

Slowly, I lowered the phone, my fingers absentmindedly dialing his number, pausing as my finger lingered over call.

No, not tonight. I cleared out the screen before dropping it on the bakery counter, waving off my mother’s concerned look. Nobody could ruin the fact that I had a date on Saturday. Not even my own self-destructive tendencies. Adrien asked me out. He asked me out. That was a fact and no matter what Lila or Tim thought or did, it couldn’t shake that undeniable fact.

There were two days. Plenty of enough time to finish the dress I had been fiddling with the past two weeks. I will show up to this date with my head held high and my hopes higher

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Oh! Marinette what a fun surprise! You look beautiful!”

I inhaled sharply, ignoring the urge to smack the grin right off of Tim’s face.

“Timothy. Is Adrien home?” His smile faltered for a moment as he stepped out of the way, inviting me inside.

“Is this your new project? You were working on it for so long. It looks stunning!” He stumbled over his meaningless compliments as he led me to the entertainment room, my silence too much for him to bear.

“You don’t have to escort me, Timothy. I have been here a million and one times.”

I reached past Tim to open the doors, ignoring the fact that he refused to move. There was a strong temptation to just slam the door a little harder so that it would reach his nose, but a set of startling green eyes eased the feeling.

“Marinette! Oh mon Dieu, Tim was supposed to let me know when the doorbell rang so that I could greet you. I’m so sorry, I swear I really am a proper gentleman.”

“It’s okay Adrien! Really! I should’ve texted you that I arrived. I’m just so used to letting myself in.”

His smile was full of relief as it sent my heart into a flurry. Was it really possible to sit close to this man without combusting?

“Please, join me! I just figured out how to set everything up.”

Adrien motioned to the seat beside him and as I slid into the couch, I was fully aware of his arm resting behind my head. It felt nearly impossible to focus on the movie in this position. As he pressed play, my eyes glanced between him and the screen, unsure which was more deserving of my attention.

“So my friends, what are we watching?” Adrien’s arm flinched, his elbow knocking the back of my head as we both jumped from the couch.

“Tim, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t a fan of French musicals?”

Adrien was putting it nicely, something I could admire him for since my thoughts were definitely straying to a much more violent response. Tim took a handful of popcorn, shoving it into his mouth as he slipped into the spot I had been sitting moments before.

“I usually don’t, but I figured I should get to know you both a little better and your culture of course. Don’t mind me, you won’t hear another peep.” He mockingly zipped his lips closed, his sickeningly sweet smile not quite reaching his devilish eyes.

Adrien glanced at me as if he were unsure to argue or not. I suppose he decided it wasn’t quite was worth it as he moved to sit back down, his smile shaky.

With as much might as I could muster, I shimmied in between the two guys, putting as much distance between Tim and me as I could. I felt his glare burning holes into the side of my head, but there was no way I was going to let him ruin my perfect first date with the perfect guy.

Adrien restarted the movie and for exactly five minutes, Tim kept his promise.

“Can we at least turn on the subtitles? My french is a little rusty.”

I gritted my teeth as Adrien nodded, the screen changing to fit in the white words.

“God that’s tiny, is there any way to make them larger?”

“Uhm, I’m not very sure? It took a while to figure out the controls.” A fist shot past my face, spreading in wait. Adrien looked wary as he placed the remote into Tim’s outstretched hand.

“This should do.” What was once manageable small words were now purple and taking up a third of the screen. I could feel Adrien tense up beside me, but he refused to argue.

We continued on like this for the duration of the movie. Tim would find something new to complain about making our date feel less and less romantic and more like amicable divorcees taking their child out.

“Wow, what a beautiful movie!” Tim dabbed at nonexistent tears, his smile irritating me half to death. “What’s next guys?”

“I, uhm, actually have to head back. After all, I told Maman I wouldn’t be out late.”

“Let me walk you home!” The silence was deafening as both boys traded glances with one another, daring the other to speak again.

“Enough Tim! This was my date tonight with Adrien, not you! Quit acting like some jealous boyfriend!” Both sets of eyes turned toward me, one set glowing, the other dull.

Tim closed his slack jaw before he gathered his trash, mumbling under his breath as he left.

I took a minute, watching the door to ensure he wouldn’t turn back with some dumb retort like he always did, but instead, it remained shut. I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, urging me forward.

“I’ll walk you home Marinette.” I managed a nod as I let Adrien lead me out of the room and out of the manor.

We walked in silence for a while, his gentle touch both calming and warm in the cool October air.

“Marinette, I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly how I planned for our first date to go. I’m not sure what was up with Tim.”

My laugh was curt as I slowed my pace, the bakery coming into view far too quickly.

“Tim is just lonely. I know that, yet I’ve been ignoring him some time for petty reasons. He just,” I paused, steps away from the windows to avoid any unwanted audiences, “he just can take the jokes too far sometimes and I can’t handle that.”

Adrien nodded as if he sort of understood what I meant, his eyes glancing to the building beside us.

“Is this your house? Do you live above the bakery?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s an apartment above with a side entrance. So I suppose, this would be my stop.” His chuckle echoed as he moved his hand from my back to brushing against my own hanging hand.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t how I imagined it would go, but can I at least end it how I planned?”

My heart was certainly ready to burst as he gently turned me until our noses were mere centimeters apart. He seemed to be waiting, his lips parted ever so slightly. This was my chance, and yet I was too mesmerized by how close he was. Could I at least nod?

Perhaps I did. The confirmation he waited for set him in motion as he closed to the slight distance between us. His lips were warm and soft and I felt as if I could melt into the sidewalk, as happy as could be.

It almost felt life ending when he finally pulled back, his smile sending my head spinning.

“I’ll see you Monday, Marinette. Goodnight.” He lifted my hand, placing a small peck against my knuckles before releasing it, turning to leave me dumbfounded in front of my own house. My eyes trailed after him, only allowing me to step toward my own home once he was just out of sight.

There was literally nothing that could ruin the high that I was on during that very moment. If only I had known what was waiting for me as I turned the knob.

“Welcome home hunny! Look who decided to stop by to see you!”

The color drained from my face as the snarky smile set off every alarm in my mind.

“Long time, no see Dupain-Cheng. I thought the first thing you would do when I got here was come and see me, but I guess that was too much to hope for now wasn’t it.”

“Chloe, you know you’ve been busy, so why are you acting like it’s all my fault?”

Her heavy, dramatic sigh reminded me exactly why I hadn’t reached out. Chloe is one my best friends besides Tim, but she can be a bit much sometimes. Imagine being so average that even when you stand next to a pillar, you make the pillar look more outstanding. Got that picture? Now imagine little old average me standing next to a three times Miss Junior World Wide pageant winner.

See? A bit much for my mental health to hang out in public with her.

“C’mon now, you know that’s not the only thing stopping you from calling. Your mother told me you had a date tonight. You finally give that Wayne boy a chance?”

I rolled my eyes as I slid into the chair across from her, the weight of the night finally hitting.

“You and I both know he’s just messing with me, mocking me if you will.” Chloe shared a look with my mother, both sighing. I knew what they were thinking, but they didn’t know Tim. He was always like that, always will be. “Besides, there was a transfer student. From Paris to be exact.”

I knew I had captured her attention as she leaned forward, her fingers intertwining before resting on the table.

“Maybe you know him. From what I gathered, he and his family are Paris elites. Adrien Agreste-”

“Mhmm, girl, drop him now.”

I paused as I waited to see if she would elaborate, but instead, she just sat back in her chair as if already bored with the conversation.

“Why should I? He’s so handsome and so sweet and we both share similarities. He’s so perfect Chloe.”

“Yeah, no.” She glanced over her pristine nails as if looking for a crack in the polish to punish. “He is a daddy’s boy and you are not his father’s type. His father will insist he marry someone that would be good for business and I’m sorry but you’re not that Marinette.”

“Marriage?” I could feel myself burning red at the implication. “We only went on one date, Chloe!”

“And it should stay that way. Trust me, he and his family are nothing but trouble for you. You should ask out Tim instead.”

“Are you done?” Chloe sighed before nodding, letting her hand fall to hit the table with an exaggerated smack. “I know that he is out of my league. Trust me, for someone so perfect like him, he needs perfect to match. In fact, I was planning on calling you soon anyway, but since you’re here..”

I trailed off, waiting for her to draw her own conclusion.

“Marinette, nobody is perfect. Stop putting him on a pedestal before you hurt yourself.”

If I weren’t mistaken, I would almost think she was concerned for me, but that just wasn’t Chloe’s style.

“So can you do it or not?”

Her sigh was long and drawn out, ending in a slight nod.

“Let’s get to it. We have a lot of work to do before Monday rolls around.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You know, I had always wondered how Lila felt walking into school every day knowing that every set of eyes was pinned to her.

Now I knew.

It was revolting. How could she walk so confidently knowing that everyone was gaping at her, certainly waiting for her to mess up? At least, that’s how it felt as people didn’t even bother to hide their broken necks as I whisked past them.

It would be a lie if I didn’t disclose that I practically dove into the safety of my homeroom before I fell into a full-blown panic attack.

“Marinette?” I stiffened as I peaked up at the boy standing in front of my desk. It had been two whole days and Tim hadn’t even messaged me, yet here he was, his mouth hanging as low as everyone else’s. “Are you wearing make-up?”

I nodded as he slipped into his usual seat, his expression shifting from surprise to one of suspicion.

“This has Chloe’s handiwork all over it. Did she stop your house or something this morning?”

“She’s staying for the next couple of weeks to avoid that shady hotel on fifth that her mom booked for her.”

Tim nodded with understanding, but not another word was spoken. It almost felt like a dagger to my heart. Where was the Tim I knew with the backhanded compliments and joke dates? Surely if a makeover couldn’t get a reaction from him, what was I expecting from Adrien?

I let out a sigh as I fell forward, my forehead resting on the cool desk. Where was Adrien anyways? He was always ten minutes early for every class. This was so unlike him.

“Oh my god! There you are Mariboo!” A shiver traveled down my spine jolting me up in my seat. There was only one person with an annoying shrill in their voice that could outmatch Chloe’s.

“Lila? You’re not even in this class. What do you want?”

Her laugh felt like listening to a cat using the blackboard as its new scratching post. I couldn’t help but flinch as she placed a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder.

“You’re so mean Mariboo! I was coming to make sure that we were still on for lunch today! Adrikins had a photoshoot this morning but he wanted to invite all of us to eat with him on his break!”

Her enthusiasm was sickening.

“But Lila, you don’t like me-”

“Don’t like you? Babe! What is with you today? If my boyfriend asks me to bring you to lunch then that’s all I need to confirm our sisterhood.” Boyfriend. Boyfriend. I couldn’t be bothered to hide my shock as Lila’s fake smile shifted to show her more sinister and true smirk. “Yeah, Boyfriend. We went to dinner last night and he asked me there! So romantic huh? Anyways, I trust I’ll see you later then huh? Okay then! Hugs and Kisses, byee!!”

My eyes narrowed as they shifted to where Tim sat beside me, feigning ignorant to the interaction. Was this his retaliation for what I had blurted out on Saturday? I only called it how I saw it and it was Tim’s fault for pushing me that far! He was being childish at this point.

“Do you think she’s lying about Adrien asking her out?” The silence was deafening as Tim slowly lowered his forehead to the desk, his eyes shut tightly as if trying to imagine he was anywhere else than right beside me. Regardless, I tried to continue. “It has to be a lie, right? I mean Adrien said he liked me, not her! We even kissed.”

Tim’s body stiffened beside me. Of course, that would get a rise out of him, he was always overprotective about those kinds of things. Alas, my excitement was dulled as he returned to his relaxed state once more, his silence continued.

Whatever. I don’t need Tim. I can figure this out for myself. All I had to do was wait till lunch.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Oh my! You actually came! How exciting.” Lila’s smile was dripping with false elation, a hint of thrill dancing in her eyes as if she couldn’t wait for the drama to unfold in front of her. “Aidrikins, look who it is!”

Adrien wouldn’t even meet my eyes, his arm dangling lifelessly from Lila’s shoulders. If I had to guess, he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. The thought leaked its way into a small smile.

“Why don’t you take a seat Mariboo? I have someone who wanted to talk to you. Someone who loved your little-” she paused, her nose scrunching up as she searched for the right word,”-transformation?”

I didn’t even have time to question her before I was thrown off balance, an arm forcing me into the chair at the table.

“‘Sup girl? You’re looking fine today.” Instant dread flooded my soul as I was squeezed into a damp t-shirt that I could only assume was sweat-drenched. “You don’t mind if I slide in beside you eh?”

“Kim-Get. Your. Arm. Off. Me. Now.”

“Woah, woah, c’mon little lady. Don’t be like that! You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you Marinette.”

Lila’s smile was infuriating as she watched as Kim pushed me into the open seat, his arm heavy on my shoulders.

“What is the meaning of this Lila?” Her eyes feigned innocence as she cocked her head to the side, her fingers tapping the table.

“Whatever do you mean Marinette? I’m just trying to help you get over your heart break now that Adrikins has chosen me to be his girlfriend. You know the old saying; ‘the best way to get over one is to get under another’.”

I could barely stand to let her finish before I pushed Kim away, taking off ducking so that he couldn’t reach out again. Why did I think for even a second that this would turn out okay? Did I expect Adrien to wrap me up in his warm arms and tell me she was just a joke? How stupid of me.

“Marinette?” I slowed down long enough to catch Tim’s worried gaze, the strength in my legs finally giving out as I slumped to the ground. “Marinette! What happened?”

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice. I reached up absentmindely to where the warmth in my cheeks sat, recoiling at the dampness I found. Had I started crying? When did that happen?

“Here, take this.” I didn’t even bother to look up as the weight of Tim’s jacket slipped over my shoulders. He gently helped me to my feet, pulling me toward the door that led to the courtyard, a bench in view. “Can you make it to our spot?”

My voice still seemed to fail me, a nod was all I could manage. It was enough for Tim who seemed to understand. The moment the back of my knees hit the cool wood, I buckled. Tim crouched in front of me, reaching out hesitantly to brush some of the leftover tears lingering on my cheek.

“Is this because of Adrien?” The air left my lungs, my body going rigid. “This is what I was worried about Mari. He seems perfect, but the jerk was torn between you or popularity. Anyone who can’t see the right choice there isn’t deserving of you.”

“Torn between me and popularity?” My voice was hoarse, it sounded unfamiliar.

“Yeah. He had the audacity to ask for my advice as to whether or not it was worth it to date you or have friends. Can you believe that? As if Lila’s little group will still want him after his newness has worn off.”

“And what did you tell him?” Tim stiffened as he shifted his eyes away from mine. “Tim, what was your advice to him?”

“He told me to drop you because you only saw your old life in me and that you weren’t as invested in this as I was.” My body felt as stiff as Tim’s looked as we both glanced to where he stood, breathless and red, his own eyes tinging pink as if he were holding back tears himself.

“Stop.” Tim’s voice was a whisper, his hand retracting from where it had been resting on my cheek. Adrien took a step forward, holding his head higher as he looked down on the two of us.

“He told me that you always had short-lived crushes and that you longed for your old life often. So much so that when I showed up, you were more fascinated by what I could offer over who I was.”

“That’s not what I said-”

“It’s exactly what you told me! So imagine my surprise when she showed up at lunch today looking like I had pulled the rug out from under her feet. Marinette, this isn’t what I meant to happen. I like you, alot. And if you like me too, I’d want to give this a shot, truly.”

My brain felt as if it were short-circuiting. Tim had done many things in the past to thwart my crushes but he’d never put me in a situation that would hurt me. Never. Yet, when my eyes met Adrien’s, something sincere stirred, pulling at my heart.

“Tim?” His eyes shifted to mine, tears brimming at the edge threatening to spill at any moment. Was this really the face of a selfish man sabotaging me? “I want to hear it from you, Tim. What was your advice to Adrien?”

“Marinette, I already told you-” Adrien fell silent at the sight of my palm, urging him to stop. It wasn’t a lack of trust in him, it was the fact that I felt too much trust for Tim. I just knew he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, he-

“That’s more or less what I told him,” he was barely audible but I heard every word clearly as they pierced my chest. “But Marinette, I couldn’t watch him string you along anymore. You don’t know the conversations he has at night with Lila, you don’t know-”

I couldn’t imagine the face I was making right now. I couldn’t even begin to fathom a face to make in the first place. Nothing out of Tim’s mouth was making sense. Adrien was telling the truth? Tim really said that about me?

“Marinette, please listen-” my hand moved before I could think, smacking Tim’s as it attempted to rest itself back on my cheek.

“Tim.” He seemed to understand as he stood, taking a step back from where I sat. “Tim, just,-I-”

I didn’t even know what to say. Why did it hurt so bad? What was this gut-wrenching feeling? It wasn’t like this was the first time Tim had sabotaged a crush. But wasn’t it the first that he had gone this far? The first he had said such awful things to me? Right?

“I think you should leave Wayne.” There was a tense moment where the air stood still and the two boys in front of me stared each other down, daring the other to speak again. It was Tim who would inevitably give in, stepping back toward the school building without a glance back. And for some reason, that hurt most of all.

His face, what face was he making right now as he walked away? It’s the only thing I can think about, it’s monopolizing my thoughts. Tim, Tim, Tim-

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.” Adrien pulled me forward until I was pressed into his chest, the dampness of my cheeks finally hitting. When did the tears start? Why did they start? “Marinette, I don’t know what Tim has said about me, but I really do have feelings for you. I never once faltered when it came to that. Is there any way you could give me a second chance?”

His heart was pounding. Was he nervous? I could hear the words coming out of his mouth, but I couldn’t process the meaning behind them. Was he asking me out?

“A second chance? Aren’t you dating Lila?”

“I am, but I’m not. I-I don’t care for her as I do you. It was just that Tim told me you weren’t interested and she has been asking me for weeks now. I’m sorry. I know this doesn’t look good on my part, but I swear Marinette. If you tell me right now that you will accept my request, then I’ll leave her. It’s you that I want Marinette. So what do you say?”

“I-I don’t know what to say. I mean, Adrien it was one date. Are you sure you want to throw away your relationship on one date?”

Adrien pulled back, his eyes shining as elegantly as the first time I saw them.

“I’m sure Marinette. I would be willing to bet anything on you.” Hesitantly, he reached forward, wiping the tear stains from my face, his hand remaining on my cheek. “May I?”

I couldn’t process just what he was asking, my mind still boggled with thoughts of Tim retreating. I could feel my face being pulled forward ever so slowly, his nose nearly tickling my own. Was this okay? Was it okay to allow him to steal yet another kiss? Was Tim right? Did I truly care about Adrien or was he just another crush? He paused, his lips mere centimeters from mine.

“Is this okay Marinette?”

No, Tim was wrong. Adrien was wonderful and caring and I actually liked him. This was something I decided for myself regardless of Tim’s opinions. It was my turn to close the distance between us. His lips were soft and delicate, almost hesitant as he returned the kiss. As he pulled away, my head felt dazed. It was different from the melting sensation I had felt before. This one was gentle, like a promise sealed between the two of us. It was comforting.

"Come with me Saturday,” my voice felt foreign as it slipped out of my mouth, unsure of where this surge of courage came from. “My friend has a fashion show and while it’s not the most exciting thing in the world, I’m sure it would be much better with you there.”

“If it’s with you, I’m sure it will be a blast. I’d love to come, Marinette.”

There was a pause as I registered his words in my head.

“So, like a date..right?”

Adrien’s laugh bellowed through the courtyard as he stood, offering his hand to help me stand as well.

“Exactly like a date.” He pulled my hand forward until his lips brushed over my knuckles, his warmth lingering even after he released his grip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to take care of a certain someone before I can officially call you mine.”

Adrien offered a small wave before turning to jog back inside.

I remained standing, my eyes following his retreating figure. He left through the same door that Tim had, reminding me once again, that I also had someone I should take care of. But was that the case? Tim never explained himself, just upped and left after Adrien suggested he should.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust Adrien and what he said, it just felt wrong to watch Tim leave me, to leave my side without a word.

Maybe we both just needed some space. After all, I had no idea what I would do, what I would say if I saw him right now. I would just wait until after Saturday, after my date, after a perfect night out.

Yeah, that would be the best time.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers already dialing before my phone was even in view.

“What do you want Dupain-Cheng? Aren’t you still in class?”

“Well, hello to you too Chloe. I’m doing fine thanks for asking.” There was a deep sigh that resonated through my phone as if she was deciding if I were worth her time. Supposing I was, she clicked her tongue waiting for me to continue. “Adrien agreed to come with me to that show you’re walking in on Saturday.”

“And why would he do that?”

“I would like to assume it’s because he likes me and wants to spend time with me, but that’s just a guess. Who knows for sure?”

Chloe tsked and the line went dead before I could even say another word. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. At least the one thing I could count on was for Chloe to remain constant.

Never mind anything else that occurred, the only thing I had to concentrate on was my date. Forget Tim, forget Lila. I had a perfect date on Saturday and that was the only thing that mattered.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So, enjoying your backstage luxury? Honestly, you’re drooling as if you haven’t eaten in days looking at all these up-and-coming designers.”

I unconsciously wiped the drool that had seeped at the corner of my mouth as I turned in circles taking in the landscape. It wasn’t much. A bunch of thrown-together counter space and curtain dividers, but the hope and exhaustion on everyone’s face as their hard work finally came to light was what made it so fascinating for me..

“I can’t help it, Chloe. I know I told Adrien that it wouldn’t be that exciting, but to be honest, it’s so gratifying watching them. Maybe I’ll take my hobby seriously and find myself here one day. You’ll wear my designs, right Chloe?”

“Mm, you’ll have to prove to me that your designs are worth my time.” She stuck out her tongue, her eyes taunting me to retaliate. “Besides, I know this is all just a deflection Dupain-Cheng. You’re avoiding the original question I asked when you first got here.”

My body stiffened slightly as I shifted my gaze to a nearby model having their make-up fixed. Anywhere but Chloe was a good place to look seeing as the burning sensation in my skull indicated that she was most likely throwing her killer glare in my direction.

“I told you, Chloe, he said he would meet me here and he just hasn’t texted me yet.”

“That sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but whateves.” It was odd that he hadn’t called me or even shot a single text. We were supposed to meet up an hour ago but after thirty minutes of waiting and three missed calls from Chloe, I decided I would wait inside for him to contact me. “The show will be starting soon so you should try and find a decent seat. Maybe lover boy can find the guts to show up before I walk.”

I nodded before edging my way to the curtain separating the audience from the models. Peeking through, my eyes scanned for a certain blonde but alas, he still wasn’t here. I excused myself to the nearest row with two seats left, placing my purse and jacket into the empty one in hopes Adrien would fill it soon.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the announcer jumped on stage, his enthusiastic voice failing to capture my full attention. When Chloe would ask me later if I liked the show, I couldn’t even begin to tell her what she modeled. My thoughts were elsewhere, wondering just why he never even read a single text.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I got my answer just hours after returning from Chloe’s show. In reality, I hadn’t moved from my bed, not particularly sad, just mentally exhausted. It was only after I had finally decided to brush it off as a dead battery or some freak accident, I received a text from someone I never imagined.

“Hey xinh đẹp, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I just couldn’t let this slide.”

Kim had attached a video, nearly a minute long. My heart jumped as I saw the screen frozen on Adrien’s face surrounded by dozens of people, Lila hanging right off of his arm. Was this why he was late? Did he go to break up with Lila? It would explain why he couldn’t answer me.

With a shaky breath, I pressed play, my heart threatening to drop at any moment.

“The fuck is this?”

“Tim?” His name almost sounded foreign in my mouth. What was Tim doing at Lila’s party?

“Leave it be Wayne.”

“Yeah Timmyboo, just leave it be.” Lila giggled as she brought Adrien’s face to hers, leaving small sloppy kisses all over his face. It almost made me sick to my stomach. That looked nothing close to breaking up.

“You told her that you were leaving this bitch! You lied to Marinette.”

“Oh c’mon Tim. Marinette’s nice and all, but her crush on me was overbearing and what was it going to give me in return? Huh?”

“She would’ve given you the world if you asked! How can you not realize that? When Marinette loves someone, she does it with her whole heart. If I had your chance, you bet your life I would never waste it like this!”

Tim… was serious. All those times, he was serious. I can’t believe I thought it was a joke when Tim was constantly pouring his heart out to me.

“Like she would ever give you a chance Wayne. Not after you made it so easy for me to get her to hate you. I’ll let her know eventually, but in reality, she has nothing. Especially compared to Lila. It’s like father always said, relationships are only good for what they can offer yo-”

Adrien never got to finish his sentence as Tim’s fist connected with his face. I could hear Kim let out a string of cusses as the video cut out. There was nothing I could do as I stared at my phone, still processing what I had seen, what I had heard. I stared until the screen blackened and all that was left was my own shocked expression.

For some reason, it didn’t hurt that bad hearing Adrien’s words. Somewhere deep inside of me must have realized that fascination with someone from where I grew up way outshined the actual connection I had made up.

“Tim,” He tried to protect me. It wasn’t just some jealous ulterior motive; Tim just didn’t want to see me hurt. And speaking of Tim, “my God, I have to find Tim!”

I pushed off my bed, racing down the stairs and out the front of the bakery. Maman glanced sideways at me as I zipped past, but she did nothing to stop me, a seemingly knowing smile plastered on her face. I’m sure I’ll deal with her teasing later, but that wasn’t the important thing at the moment.

No, the only thing that mattered was finding-

“Marinette?” My feet planted themselves, my arms involuntarily shooting out to balance myself. Before I had even turned, my heart was already jumping in my throat. “Marinette, where are you going?”

I couldn’t stop myself as I stumbled forward, my steps clumsy as I made my way to where he stood.

“Marinette? I-oof” I threw myself into Tim, my arms tightening around him in fear that if I let go, he would somehow slip away from me. He hesitated for a moment before I felt his own arms wrap themselves around me.

We stood there as seconds passed, neither speaking, just simply holding on for dear life.

“I love you.” His heart raced, reacting to my words much the same as my own. “I’m sorry for everything Tim. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize you never once were joking about your feelings for me. I’m sorry that I let a stupid boy come between me and my best friend. But most of all, I’m sorry that I never had the courage to say it sooner. I love you, Tim.”

All too quickly he pulled back, his hand rushing to his face in an attempt to cover the spreading red.

“You-ou-you-you can’t just spring that on me! I didn’t have any time to prepare. And you took away my big moment! You have no idea the demons that I literally fought to finally work up the courage to come confess! Marinette!”

I felt the giggle bubbling up as Tim attempted to compose himself, the blush ever-burning as it moved to brush against his neck.

“I guess I should add that to my apology speech too huh?”

“Yes! You should! I want a formal apology later for ruining something that I have been planning for since we were kids.”

“And what about now?” Tim cocked his head as I took a small step forward in an attempt to close the space between us. “If that’s what you want for later, what do you want for now?”

I could practically see the wheels turning in Tim’s head as he tentatively reached out, grasping my face as lightly as he could with both hands. Time seemed to stop as he pulled me forward, his breath quick and uneven, much like my racing heart.

“I want to kiss the woman I love, but only if she wants me to.”

“What a coincidence, I also was thinking that I would love to kiss the man in front of me.”

We both moved forward, our lips and teeth colliding at the same time.

“Ow!” Tim released one hand as he covered his mouth. There was a moment of silence before we both erupted, our laughter mingling as it filled the night air. “Somehow, that felt exactly like us.”

I could only nod as my laughter faded out, an ear-splitting smile taking its place.

“It’s okay though because now we can try again any time.”

Tim smiled as he leaned forward once more. “Good, because I would love to try again right now.”

His lips were soft and his kiss was gentle and described in a single word; perfect. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against my own, his heart practically jumping through his shirt.

“Is this real?”

“It is.”

I shared his sentiment. It didn’t feel real that after all this time, after everything that had happened, we had finally found our way back to each other.

I’m sorry if this wasn’t the happy ending you were waiting for. After all, I did warn you that it wasn’t your typical girl meets boy.

In the end, I never quite figured out my question; how do you survive in an extraordinary world when you’re only average? After everything, I still don’t have anything definite, but I suspect that it becomes infinitely easier when you fall in love with your best friend.

As I met Tim’s eyes in our last moments alone that night, the only thought occupying my mind was that never again would I ever let him go.

I found the person that makes my average life extraordinary and he’s always been right by my side.

“Never leave Tim, okay?” I could feel the warmth from his smile before it even appeared.

“You’re only stuck with me for the rest of your life and any time after that.”

I reached forward, intertwining our fingers, relishing in the perfect fit. This was everything I had been searching for and now it was quite literally in my grasps.

This, well this was only the beginning of our story, but that’s a tale for another time, right?

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @jayjayspixiepop @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @kking13 @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @thesunniestdays @user00000003 @vixen-uchiha @prettylittlebutterflie @queen-of-rants

#timinette #tall girl au #maribat

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

Note

I’m glad you at least got lunch! Maybe try eating again if it’s not too hard? And I understand that family can suck sometimes, maybe straight up try telling them some stuff to clear things up a bit at first! Like set boundaries? Other than that, I do hope Thanksgiving isn’t a bust for you. Only eat as much as you’re comfortable with, but remember your definition of a lot is kind of a mind trick, so try to eat a bit more if you can. Overall, you’re very valid, and you deserve to have a good week

LIFE UPDATE

First of all, thank you for this whole thing, it’s very sweet and caring of you. I really appreciate people taking the time to reach out and make sure I’m okay and telling me to have a good week. <3 That means a lot to me that you guys do that.

Second, I’m just gonna make this my life update post since it kind of ties into everything I’m about to spill so uh.

TW: Eating Disorder and Covid mentioned under the cut in case anyone wants to scroll past or doesn’t want to read, which I understand. But here’s a lengthy life update that no one asked for.

TLDR: I’m moving soon, going on a mini hiatus, have been exposed to Covid, and generally not well but surviving.

I’ve been on an upswing today, so I’ll try to get this out rationally and coherently while I can. If you don’t know by now or you’ve somehow (luckily and miraculously) managed to not catch any of my stupid vent posts, hello! I’m Sweater, I’m 23, and I run this blog! I also have an eating disorder that I am actively trying to battle, and at this point I am in what I would call a full scale relapse for me.

Holidays this time of year (or any time really) are especially hard for me since food is a big factor in them. Without getting too much into specifics, restriction of food is common for me and often it just doesn’t feel or taste right. Eating can make me feel nauseous, disgusting, and ashamed, while not eating causes the exact same effect, except with the added point of apathy. Mostly this is an addiction that I have been fighting on and off since high school (a little over 5 years), but for me it’s also about punishment and control, and so when things get chaotic in my life, I tend to relapse habitually, sometimes without even realizing it. This can happen when I’m extremely stressed, when I feel out of control over my life, or just forget to take care of myself in general, whether that’s working through my lunches and breaks or sleeping too much or too little through meal times.

Right now, my life is really hectic. Covid has really upended everything for me, made me question my sexuality, my gender, and pretty much my entire identity. If you haven’t caught on by now, I’m also married, and this was a very recent thing that happened just this year in July. Unfortunately, things have not worked out, and since I’ve changed a lot as a person, my current living situation and relationship are on the line, and I’m having to go through the stress of figuring out divorce and an apartment in the middle of a pandemic.

This is definitely not where I saw myself in just a year. I’m actively pursuing therapy, I’ve just gotten my own car, and I’m on track to get better, but things aren’t that simple and it’s really just taking a toll on me both physically and mentally. I was not looking forward to Thanksgiving and eating in front of people this year anyways, but now I definitely can’t go since there are people in my specific department at work who have Covid. We just found out today that someone who I was in close contact with all the time has it, and so I’ve been exposed for a second time. Because of this I’m not attending my family’s dinner, so I don’t have to worry about food anymore, but I do have to worry about whether I have Covid or not.

I am under a tremendous amount of stress. I have about a month of crunch time to get a new license plate and title for my car, find an apartment that I can afford that allows pets, get a divorce, and start therapy (hopefully). My family has been unsupportive for the most part and mostly just frustrated that I don’t want to stay with my spouse. But I have to say, I think the most frustrating thing in all of this is the ED and the symptoms that come with it. I mentioned above that I feel apathetic when I don’t eat. That gets in the way of me doing other every day things like work, being active at home, writing, taking care of myself, and giving attention to others. I lose motivation at work, I can’t focus on anything (my brain often feels foggy and hazy and it’s hard to remember anything; it all blurs together for days, weeks, sometimes even months), and I just feel drained and exhausted 24/7. So I feel stressed, yes, but I also don’t care about it and I do care about it at the same time.

I have okay days, and that almost makes it worse, because on days I do eat I end up with huge mood swings right after having been apathetic, and honestly it’s like giving myself emotional whiplash. One minute I’m having intrusive thoughts about how i’m certain negative words and phrases, the next I feel nothing at all and can hardly bring myself to walk around (often it’s a feeling of “what’s the point in existing?”), and then after I eat something I feel high in a sense, or lethargically warm and upbeat at the same time. It’s exhausting, really. To feel everything awful all at once, and then go from feeling absolutely nothing at all to the most upbeat positive things ever. It’s almost like false hope, if that makes sense? When I eat something and feel better, it’s easy to tell myself that things will be okay, that the ED isn’t real anyway, that I don’t have a problem and that I can feel normal. And if there is one, I’ll be fine, I don’t need help, etc.

I’m dealing with all of that combined into one giant mess that is my life right now. That being said, this blog is my escape. I’ve met a lot of cool people here, gotten to know some really lovely friends, and I’ve written really cool things that people seem to really enjoy. I want to continue to write, but that requires focus and time, both of which my ED is actively taking from me. I’m doing my best to be here as much as I can and I will still continue to work on requests and writing, because it’s a way for me to cope and escape. But I do need to acknowledge that my life is out of control and I need to do something about it.

I’m doing my best to stabilize myself and work on things. I think a mini hiatus at some point in December will be inevitable, however, especially considering there will be a point in time where I will not have access to an internet router/the internet for my laptop to write. So I’m not sure when exactly, but it’ll probably be towards the end of December.

Anyways, this is not a post asking for pity or attention, just a post for me to process some things and give a life update. You are in no way obligated to respond to this or to comment on this unless you really feel the need to. I just wanted to be open and honest about where I was and what was going on with me. I understand if you don’t want to follow me after this or if you just want to scroll past.

Just know that I’m working on myself, I’m trying really hard, and it’s really difficult for me sometimes to get a grip on my writing and my own sense of self because of this. If anyone needs anything I’m usually always here! But again, all of this is the reason I don’t always respond to messages. It’s nothing you’ve done or said, I just literally can’t remember that I was having a conversation sometimes, or I can’t focus enough to type out a reply, or I’m sleeping through the day or just dissociating and feeling apathetic. But I love you all, and I’m thankful for your support, and I want to be better.

Much love and care,

-Sweater <3

#life update #sweater rambles #sweater rambles A LOT #tw: ed #tw: eating disorder #tw ed #tw eating disorder #eating disorder #tw covid

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sapphire-weapon · 4 years

Note

Everyone’s talking about how they’re looking forward to Rufus and his Junon celebrations which I agree with but I can’t wait to see him personally take on the Weapons. Do you think they may add some extra scenes? What do you hope for?

i’m really excited for the weapons, too. for a few reasons.

1: in terms of added scenes, i’d really like to see the moment where rufus steps up and assumes his responsibility as the planet’s protector. i want to see what happened during that week where tifa was in a coma, and rufus was fighting for the planet so resolutely that he managed to even gain barret’s respect.

2: i kind of shitposted about this once before, but i’d also like to see the scene where the crew tells him the story so far after he rescues them at the north crater. this will probably tie into #1 in the sense that we’ll get to see the moment where the weight of it all hits him and he realizes what he has to do, not only because it is right, but because he’s the only person in a position to do it. i’d also like to see his justification for letting everyone else go free from his custody.

3: the chaos during the weapon attacks will come through so much more clearly in current gen hardware. in OG, the scene was sold mostly by the music and the frantic scrolling of text boxes. with the way technology is now, we’ll really get to see how panicked, hectic, and crazy those scenes are -- and we’ll also get to see rufus standing at the center of it, calmly giving orders. it’ll be a great showcase of his ability and style as a leader.

4: this one is probably a little bit abstract, but. arguably, the weapon assaults are the moment in which rufus actually fully grows into his role as a leader. and very briefly, very subtly, we get to see that change happen in real time in OG. i’d love to see this expanded on with the new tech.

primarily, what i’m thinking of when i say this is: when sapphire weapon approaches junon, rufus actually gets nervous and steps back away from the window with heidegger. by the time of the diamond weapon attack, he’s unafraid and unmovable, and he faces the oncoming assault alone. he doesn’t even blink as the first missiles hit his office.

at some point between sapphire weapon and diamond weapon, rufus has stopped fearing death -- but we don’t know why. case of shinra doesn’t even go into this (and part of me wonders if nojima even remembered this was a thing when he was writing the story), despite that story being a deep dive into rufus’s psyche and character. but since the devs are all saying that they’re replaying OG while developing remake, i’d like to see this touched on a little bit.

i also wonder if they’ll somehow tie it back into his susceptibility to geostigma in AC. yes, i know, the point of remake is to erase the future that leads to the events of AC, but that aspect of rufus’s character should still be present. and since geostigma only infects those who are actively seeking and/or accepting of their own death, i’d love to see this pop up around the time of diamond weapon.

in terms of other things i’m hopeful for...

1: i want at least one scene where rufus loses his mind with hysterical laughter. he does this several times during the course of the compilation (once in OG, once in CoS, and once in TKAA), because it’s his default response to absolute absurdity when it’s put in front of him.

i just kind of want more of rufus’s sense of humor in general. he has a very dark black sense of humor, and he fuckin makes me laugh, bro. we got a hint of it during the boss fight in remake, but i’d love to see him slinging his gallows humor around more.

2: i’m really kind of hoping they add in that post-diamond weapon scene from case of shinra, where rufus has several broken bones and whiplash, and he’s just popping pills and spiraling off into an existential crisis that gets worse as he gets high as a kite, and he’s just laughing the whole way through it. because, again, it’s absurd. i think that might be my favorite rufus scene in the entire compilation tbh. though i’ll understand if they keep it out.

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #rufus shinra #thank u for this ask anon #Anonymous

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peterparkerstarker · 4 years

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Better Soon

ngl, this is me working through all my feelings about my own recent breakup, i’m pretty dang proud of this as fic in general, and it was really cathartic to write out

cw/tw: Starker, Peter is in college, post breakup feels/angst

The hardest thing about the breakup, Peter realized, were the things that caught him off guard.

He’d go hours, days even, without thinking too hard about it, and then something would smack him in the face with memories and he’d feel that wound, fresh and stinging all over again.

He’d done all the right things at first, had unfollowed but not unfriended Tony on social media, blocked his web browser from showing any articles that mentioned him, tried his best to create some space for himself to not be bombarded by Tony’s image and memory.

He’d done everything he was supposed to do to heal after a break up he’d never wanted. But how the hell was he supposed to escape Tony Stark when Iron Man was everywhere?

He’d retreated back to his apartment in Queens with Aunt May, the Avengers compound too full of memories and reminders, but he found that his room was crammed full of things that made his heart clench every time he saw them.

Tickets to the Dodgers game that Tony and Steve had taken him to, pinned on his bulletin board next to a poster about a lecture Tony had given 3 years ago at MIT, before any of this had started. An old tie that they'd left haphazardly on the floor, unfashioned too roughly from Tony's neck after the gala they’d gone to last month. And about a million other things on top of that.

He’d tried to coexist with it at first, had hoped that if he didn’t disturb the items, didn’t box them up like he knew he ought to, that it wouldn’t actually be real, that maybe they’d still get back together. He knew it was in vain, but he hoped.

They hadn’t texted since that night, hadn’t exchanged one goofy selfie, or good morning text, or a single update about how their day was.

It felt like a whole chunk of his life was ripped out, his phone silent and boring. Ned and MJ and May and the other Avengers had all tried to check in on him, all tried to support him through this. But he found himself resenting their messages of well wishes and support. He wanted his phone to chime with a text from Tony. Wanted an apology for making the biggest mistake of his life. A desperate plea for forgiveness.

But instead he had nothing from him for 5 days.

And it ate him up inside.

He found himself searching for Tony’s name online, wanting to find signs of the man missing him. But each time he scrolled through Twitter and Instagram, his heart broke just a little more.

There was nothing for the first couple days. That had made sense. Peter got the sense that Tony hadn’t told a lot of people about ending things. And besides, they were never able to be very public online, the potential for public backlash and scrutiny too high for them to risk in their newly budding romance.

It had made sense at the time. But now it hurt that no one beside his closest friends really knew.

He didn’t want to be dramatic and childish by broadcasting his heartbreak all over Facebook, but it hurt that all these acquaintances from high school and distant relatives thought he was fine, that everything was smooth sailing as usual. It hurt that none of them really knew.

And then, after a few days of obsessively checking and breathing a sigh of relief that there were no new posts, he started seeing signs of activity. Likes on their mutual friends posts, comments here or there, Tony posting a meme onto his story and a selfie on Snapchat.

The world kept turning, and Tony was moving on.

But Peter’s heart broke all over with each self-sabotaging click on Tony’s name.

Peter tried to keep a level head. Knew that whatever he posted would speak volumes about how well he was handling this to everyone in the know. So he posted once or twice a day, sometimes a selfie with a vague but positive caption, reblogged a funny post about Steve's hair.

He wanted to prove he was doing okay to the outside world, but especially to Tony, if he was seeing Peter's posts. He didn’t know if it actually worked, and he was too scared to ask.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, this compulsion to check on Tony’s Snap story or make sure he hadn’t unfollowed Peter on Instagram, but it was all he had. The last tangible connection to the life he’d been building with Tony. And as much as it tore him open each time and salted the inflamed skin, he couldn’t stop.

Deep down he didn’t think he wanted to stop, he wasn’t ready to let go.

The first message from Tony in nearly a week had been practically transactional, about exchanging their items.

He’d cried that night, suppressed sobs that wrenched from his aching lungs and chest, trying to stay quiet enough to not wake up May and worry her.

But he’d eventually pulled himself together and dutifully packed up Tony’s items, the five months of their relationship together fitting neatly into one medium sized box. It felt kind of nice, actually, to fold up each sweater or undershirt and say goodbye to yet another piece of Tony.

But it also felt so pathetic, how little space Tony's things took up in his tiny bedroom when he put them all together. He said goodbye silently to them, and kept it together the rest of the afternoon, smiling and chatting with May, pretending that he wasn’t bleeding inside from the pain of it all.

And then he’d broken down on his way to the subway; a poster of Tony on a gigantic billboard that caught him off guard, made him feel like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop feeling the knife digging in deeper and deeper. It was mortifying, and no one on the crowded sidewalk gave him a second glance, let alone stopped to ask him if he was okay, they were all too busy with their own thoughts. No one cared that his life was burning down around him.

Eventually he pulled himself together once more, got on the subway, and rode it to the stop he knew so well. He felt numb, but that was better than feeling everything, numb was better than the gut wrenching loss he’d been living with for 6 days now.

At least he hoped it was.

God, he really hoped it was.

And then he finally saw Tony, coming down into the lobby of his building. It was the first time he’d seen the man since that night, when he’d sat with Peter on his tiny bed in Queens and told him he didn’t see a future with him and that he wanted to cut things off before it went any further.

Peter knew Tony had tried to do the right thing, tried to respect Peter enough to not lead him on any more than he already had. But it didn’t stop it from hurting. Didn’t stop Peter from feeling numb when he laid eyes on Tony now.

He’d awkwardly handed off the box to him, and Tony invited him up to the penthouse to collect his boxes. Of course he had more stuff to lug back home than he’d brought. He’d spent practically all his time at the tower, Tony's bed was nicer, and it was close to his university.

It had made sense at the time.

They stopped in the hallway, Tony asked him about some mundane television show that was suddenly popular and for a very brief moment, it felt like old times, like they were just Tony and Peter, catching up after a long day and about to go grab dinner.

It felt nice... comfortable even, and he found his hope rising like the traitor it was, but it was over all too soon, and suddenly Tony was helping him carry the second box down stairs and out to a car he’d called for Peter. Peter cracked a bad joke that rang too true for the pain he was feeling and he winced, embarrassed and angry at himself for not playing it cool. They awkwardly wished each other a good night and that was it, the culmination of 5 months of his life with Tony.

He cried on the way home, tears slipping fat and wet from his face as he called Ned and began to sob.

And now it was weeks later, Peter still didn’t quite know how to function with this Tony shaped hole in his life. He still felt the whiplash of seeing something that reminded him of a good memory together, still felt the compulsion to look him up online, but he tried his best to resist.

Most days it didn’t work, but it was getting incrementally easier to handle the wave of panic that hit each time he saw something that proved Tony was moving on, was leaving him and the love he thought they’d shared behind.

He missed being touched.

Sometimes he wanted to be fucked senseless, to not feel any of the feelings he couldn’t shove down.

Sometimes he just wanted to be held and caressed and loved in the way only a boyfriend could.

Most of the time he just missed not feeling alone. Nights were the hardest, too quiet and hardly anyone awake to chat with and keep his mind occupied. Nights had been their time, and it still hurt most then,

He didn’t know when he’d be okay, be at peace with it. But he was still trying, still trying to be kind to himself and to the people who loved him. He was still trying to be better everyday. He hoped it would get better soon, he really missed the bubblegum feeling of being happy and in love.

He hoped he would get better soon, he deserved to be happy, he kept reminding himself.

Peter was so grateful for the people in his life who listened and encouraged him, so glad to be feeling a little better each day, but it was the little things that caught him off guard and made him feel sad and alone all over again. It would get better soon, he told himself.

He truly hoped it would get better soon.

#starker #breakup #angst #my fic #my writing

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smooshjames · 4 years

Text

forget you not (iii)

uh-oh, uh-oh, here i go again (or: interviews and old friends)

word count: just under 4k

a/n: part 3 of forget you not! i was gonna post this yesterday and then i totally forgot, but it’s here now! once again, the band in this story is based on little mix and i didn’t write any of the songs referenced (this chapter’s songs can be found here, here, here, and here). at the risk of sounding annoying, i have a ko-fi if you’d like to donate, but don’t feel obligated to do so!! if you can’t or don’t want to that’s totally fine, thank you for taking the time to read my work regardless of if you can spend money on it or not. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst (again)

previous parts: one, two

Sunday morning brought with it more Twitter notifications than you’d gotten in a long time. Your alarm went off obscenely early yet again; you had a full day ahead of you. The band was recording a new single which would be released sometime later in the year (the date was still up in the air) and you had decided to do it while you were in LA since you could work with a few producers that you’d never met before.

So, at five o’clock in the morning, you rolled over in your hotel bed and groped around on your nightstand for your phone. You shot upright when you saw how many notifications you had, a bolt of panic going through you at first. What the hell could’ve happened to result in so much activity?

You scrolled through a couple of your mentions before you got to a tweet from some gossip site. There was a photo of you from the concert the night before, probably taken by a fan if the quality was anything to go by. You were mid-note, your mouth open around a word, and it was pretty obvious that you were crying. The tweet read: “‘You never brought me flowers’! Y/N Y/L/N tears up while singing her band’s hit song Towers. Could there be a mystery man that caused her to get so emotional on stage…?”

Carly mumbled a good morning from the bed next to yours. You didn’t reply. You barely even noticed her leaving the main area of the room and heading into the bathroom; you were too busy looking through the replies to the tweet. They were all pretty tame, but you still felt a pit opening up in your stomach. You didn’t have any press that day since you were recording the new single, but the next day was chock-full of interviews and other promotional shit. Your Twitter feed was showing no signs of slowing down, and you really didn't want to have to explain to some random interviewer that you'd been crying because you still weren't over a breakup from five years ago.

“Everything okay?” Carly asked. You looked up, startled, and realized that she had come back from the bathroom. “You seem… distraught.”

You beckoned her over to your bed and showed her the original tweet from the gossip site. Carly gasped and took your phone from you, beginning to scroll through the replies. “Jesus,” she said. “This’ll be a shitstorm.”

“I know,” you replied. You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and sighed; you needed to get up and ready for the day. Carly gave your phone back to you.

You muted your Twitter notifications for the time being, not wanting to be distracted while you were recording the new single. If an interviewer brought it up you’d just find a way to gloss over it.

You shuffled into the bathroom and did your usual morning routine. You decided to forego makeup for the day since you’d just be sitting around a studio all day, anyway. You dressed in comfortable clothes for the same reason. You figured it would be a little bit hard to focus on recording if you were in heels or tight jeans or something similarly uncomfortable, and you wanted to save your remaining nice clothes for the following day, anyway. Sweatpants and an old t-shirt it was.

Once you were dressed and somewhat ready to face the world, you and Carly grabbed your bags and went out into the hallway. Alexis and Piper were still in their room next door, but they let you and Carly in so that you could all sit and talk while they finished getting ready. Once you were all good to go, you met up with Michelle in the lobby and got into the car that would take you to the studio.

It was a pretty cool space; chill, with couches and chairs spread out around the mixing board where the producers would work their magic. You met the audio engineers as you were walking in, and everyone shook hands and went in to get to work. They seemed nice, and they definitely had a lot of cool ideas for what might enhance the song’s sound. You and the rest of the band had already worked out the lyrics and a basic melody, but the recording technicians had some ideas to really make the song pop.

The day passed in a blur of singing and listening and revising, and then repeating the process all over again. By the time you left, the sun was touching the western horizon and the song was almost finished; just a few final edits before it would be perfect and ready for release. “We’ll get it to Michelle in the next couple of days,” one of the producers said.

You were exhausted as you collapsed back into your hotel bed, but it was a good sort of exhaustion; the kind of sated tiredness that comes with a good day’s work.

You were flying so high, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten about all the Shayne drama. You fell asleep with a slight smile on your face, and your sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

***

That pleasant warmth of a job well done was ripped from you almost as soon as the next day began. Your first interview was with a local radio station, and it went alright for about five minutes; you exchanged pleasantries with the hosts, Joe and Maggie, and sat down between Carly and Alexis for your interview.

The hosts did their intro, introduced the band, and explained that you were currently in LA on the west coast branch of your current tour. Once that was done and the band had all said hello, Maggie turned to you, and the smile she flashed you was… strangely apologetic.

And then you remembered. Shayne, Towers, crying onstage. That apologetic smile hit you so fast it practically gave you whiplash.

“So, ladies,” Maggie said. “There was some interesting news about your concert on Saturday. You guys sang your song Towers -- beautiful song, by the way -- and Y/N… there were a couple of tears there, huh? Anything you can tell us about that? Is everything okay?”

From beside you, Carly opened her mouth, probably to say that you didn’t want to talk about it, but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her willingness to defend you meant a lot, but if you didn’t address it, it would just keep getting brought up. At least if you answered this you could do some damage control. “Yeah,” you said. “Um, I actually lived in LA for a while before meeting these lovely ladies and starting up the band with them. And while I was here, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy -- I won’t say his name for privacy’s sake -- and we broke up. I guess being back in LA and singing that song just… brought back some memories. But that was all; no new mystery man or anything like that, I’m afraid.”

There, that was a good enough answer. It held enough of the truth that you felt confident they wouldn’t press you for any more information, but you hadn’t told them the exact real reason. They didn’t know he was in the room, and they didn’t know who he was.

Maggie smiled and nodded, and Joe asked another question about the band that was unrelated to your love life, which brought a wave of relief sweeping over you. You smiled and laughed through the rest of the interview, chiming in with answers whenever it felt appropriate, and then said your goodbyes as the hosts transitioned into the next song

All things considered, that hadn’t been so bad.

Once you were out of the radio station headquarters and into your car, Michelle got back to business. “Alright, next up… another interview which won’t be broadcasted live. You guys are performing Think About Us while you’re there. Then we have an hour for lunch. After lunch, you’ll film a video with Smosh, and then another radio interview after that, and then you’re free for the day. Assuming everything goes to plan.”

You nodded and settled into easy conversation with the girls during the car ride to your next venue. You were pretty excited to film with Smosh; you hadn’t seen any of their recent stuff, but you were familiar with them in that you had heard of them and you knew they primarily made comedic content. You figured that would probably mean it would be a fun time to film there.

The next interview went just fine, and the performance went even better. For lunch, you and the rest of the team got food at a cute little bistro near Smosh’s offices.

When you arrived after your lunch break you were greeted by Ian Hecox, the president of the company. He was super friendly, greeting you all with handshakes and a warm smile. Once you’d all been introduced he began to lead you through the office space, explaining that you’d be recording an episode of their ongoing Try Not to Laugh series. As he launched into an explanation of the rules, a hand on your shoulder made you tense and whip around, surprised. This brought you face to face with…

“Damien?”

Your eyes widened almost comically as you saw the man standing before you. He looked a little different since you’d seen him last; his hair was longer and streaked with blue, and he carried himself a little taller, a little prouder. But he still had that same boyish smile, those same brown eyes. He was still Damien, and he was here.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said.

You laughed, shocked and joyful, and threw your arms around his shoulders, practically launching yourself onto him. He hugged you back tightly. When you pulled back, you punched him jovially on the arm.

“It’s so good to see you!” you said, a little breathless. “What are you doing here?

“I work here. I’ll actually be filming with you guys this afternoon,” he replied

“No way, that’s crazy!” You leaned back and perched your hands on his hips, surveying him, half disbelieving.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Ian’s voice interrupted your reunion. “You two, uh… you two know each other?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “I knew Damien… God, ages ago. We were really good friends.”

Carly’s eyes now widened in recognition. She smiled at Damien and raised her hand in greeting to him.

“Hey, Carly,” he said. He put his hand on your forearm and you turned back to face him again. The look on his face made your smile fade a little bit; he seemed nervous and a little sad. “Y/N, I should warn you --”

“Holy shit!” another voice interrupted you two, this one distinctively female. And also… strangely familiar. You turned toward the source and what you saw felt like two consecutive throat punches.

Courtney, Shayne’s new girlfriend, was standing across the room. She seemed to have just entered, and judging from the wide-eyed look on her face, she was just as surprised as you were. Standing directly next to her, staring at the floor by your feet… was Shayne himself.

You heard Damien mutter something under his breath, but your brain didn’t fully process what he said. You were too busy looking at Courtney and Shayne and wondering why the hell they were here. Before you could say anything, though, Ian stepped forward.

“Sweet, we’re all here,” he said. “Y/N, Alexis, Piper, Carly, this is Shayne and Courtney. Shayne’s gonna be filming with you guys this afternoon --” of course he was “-- and Courtney is --”

“Your biggest fan!” the girl interrupted him, and even despite the resentment you couldn't help feeling toward her, you had to admit that she was really sweet. She seemed like someone you might be really good friends with were it not for the fact that she was dating your ex, which made you feel even worse; she hadn’t done anything to deserve your hatred, but here you were hating her anyway. “You probably don’t remember, but I was at the concert on Saturday. It was super good, you guys crushed it.”

“I remember,” you said, because you didn’t know when to shut up. Courtney’s jaw dropped onto the floor. “Yeah, I remember. You guys came together, didn’t you?”

The accusation was clear, at least to those in the know; Carly went pale, Piper inhaled sharply, Alexis started coughing, Damien shuffled his feet nervously, and Shayne opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say whatever he wanted to, though, he seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again.

Courtney didn’t seem to pick up on anything unusual, though, because she just nodded happily and went on talking.

“Yeah, we did!” she said, slinging her arm around Shayne’s shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that he stiffened as she pulled him into her side. His face tightened into a grimace, but you couldn't possibly imagine why. It was obvious that they were together. He didn’t need to hide that for your sake. “I was so fucking pumped when you guys sang Towers, you don’t even understand. That’s one of my favorite songs by you guys and you crushed it, especially you Y/N. Your part always hits a little different for me.”

Yeah, you and me both, you thought. But you smiled and nodded happily. “I’m glad you liked it!” you said. You turned back to the band and made eye contact with Michelle. She raised an eyebrow. You inclined your head just slightly toward Ian. She nodded; she knew what you needed.

“I hate to interrupt,” she said, “but we should probably get this show on the road. The girls have got a packed schedule today.”

“Of course!” Ian said. “Courtney, maybe you can harass them more if they have time when we’re done filming. But for now, Shayne, Damien, ladies, follow me.”

You hurried to catch up to the rest of the band. Carly and Alexis fell into step with you while Piper started walking behind you, obviously trying to shield you from Shayne’s gaze. You had another moment of profound gratitude for these girls; they took care of you when no one else would, they loved you when you couldn’t love yourself, and they always seemed to know what you needed without having to ask. That shared strength and love was one of the reasons the band had stayed together for so long.

Impressively enough, you managed to keep your shit together until you got to Carly’s. You didn’t bother texting her to let her know that you were coming. She’d let you in if she was home, and if she wasn't home, you knew her building code and where she kept her spare key.

Luckily, she was home; she let you up to her apartment without question.

Only once you’d crossed the threshold of your best friend’s apartment did you allow yourself to cry. You crumpled like a piece of paper against her and let out a sob so loud it bordered on a scream. Carly maneuvered you back onto her couch, sat down with you, and held you until you could talk. You were still crying when you pulled away from her, but you’d gotten out the full-body sobs.

“Honey, what happened?” Carly asked. You could hear the concern in her voice; it was rare that you showed up at her place unannounced, and even rarer that you started the visit by scream-crying into her shirt. She probably thought somebody was dead.

“Shayne got home from work and ended things,” you said. “Just… no warning, no ceremony, nothing. Three days ago he asked me my fucking ring size and today he told me that we aren’t working anymore. And I don’t understand because I thought he was happy! I thought we were good! I thought that we’d be fucking picking a date for our wedding, not for when I’m gonna come move out the rest of my shit!”

Before Carly could respond, your phone vibrated. You took it out and couldn’t help your tearful, almost-manic laugh at what you saw there; a text from Shayne, apologizing, asking if you would come home and talk. You went to reply, but Carly grabbed your phone and held it away from you before you could.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lunging for your phone. She was an expert at keep-away, though, and you couldn’t even get close. You cursed yourself for all the nights out where you asked her to keep your phone away from you if you got too drunk. “Carly, give me my phone!”

“Promise me you won’t text him back and you can have it,” she said.

“That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m gonna text him back!”

“Is that a good idea?” she asked. She cocked an eyebrow. “If you can honestly tell me that you think it’s a good idea for you to say anything to him right now, I’ll give you your phone back.”

That knocked some sense into you. Immediately, the fight left your body and you sat back on the couch. She studied you for a moment and then leaned forward to set the phone on the coffee table. When you didn’t go for it, she relaxed and leaned back.

“Sorry,” you said. “I’m all over the place.”

“I know. It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for, right? Now, walk me through what happened.”

“He came home and he was being weird, and he was like ‘hey can we talk’ and then he basically just said that it isn’t working anymore and that he can’t be with me. He didn’t give me a reason besides that and I didn’t ask him for one. I just packed a bag and came here.”

Carly nodded, considering. “That’s really fucking weird.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long,” you said. At her shocked expression, you shrugged. “I’ve always said that he’s out of my league, right? It was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and realized he could do better. He probably realized that if we got married, he’d have a hell of a harder time getting away from me.”

“Were it not for the state of emotional peril you’re in right now, I would slap you,” Carly said. You let out a startled laugh; of all the things she could've said, you weren't expecting that. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve known you for a long time. If that was true -- which it isn’t, by the way, you’re the sexiest, most beautiful, smartest, funniest, greatest person I know -- it wouldn’t have taken him three years to ‘get bored.’ This is one of the dumber stunts he’s pulled, which is saying something. But this isn’t your fault. He’s the asshole here, regardless of his reasoning. If you want to talk to him and try to work things out, that’s your business. But whether or not things work out, this will always be on him. And I’ll be here every step of the way, buttercup.”

You nodded gratefully, even though you didn't believe her. You’d never been good enough for Shayne. This was always inevitable. Still, you put on a brave face for Carly. Better she didn’t know what you were really thinking. “You’re right,” you said. “Thanks, Carly.”

You could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t completely believe you, which wasn’t surprising. Carly always knew when you were lying. But she also knew when to let an issue lie. “Good,” she said. “Now, Bridesmaids or Legally Blonde?”

Ian led the group to a colorful sound stage. To the right was a partition, and behind it a bunch of strange props and costume pieces. To the left was a single stool, a piano, and some bongos.

The room was swarming with activity as crew people moved around getting everything set up and ready to go. Shayne and Damien led you over to the set. “Y/N, why don’t you sit in the stool for the intro?” Shayne said, the first words he’d said to you since you had broken up. His voice was professional and upbeat, betraying almost no emotion. “And then I’ll stand to your right, Damien will be behind me, and the rest of the band can be to your left.”

“Sounds fine to me,” you said, and you hoped your voice sounded less forced to him than it did to you. You sat on the stool, glad to be off your feet; your balance was suddenly fucked now that Shayne was next to you, and you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright if you tried to stand for much longer.

Shayne went to go check something with a cameraperson, and the girls formed another huddle around you. Carly stood right in front of you, Piper to your immediate left, and Alexis just behind you. “Are you alright?” Carly asked.

“I’m sorry,” Damien said, cutting into the conversation before you could even think about how to answer Carly’s question. He was standing to your right, though he was a little farther away than your bandmates were. “I wanted to let you know before you saw him. I thought maybe it would be easier that way.”

“It’s okay, Dames. It’s not your fault,” you said. You reached over to squeeze his bicep, hoping to ease his mind a little bit, but the guilt didn’t leave his face.

“How did you know we would be here today?” Carly asked. You gave her a stern look, but she either didn’t see it or just didn’t care.

Damien fidgeted, nervous. You didn’t blame him; Carly was a force of nature when she wanted to be. “Um,” he said, “what do you mean?

“I mean that you had enough foresight to know that you could surprise Y/N and warn her about Shayne. So you knew we would be here.”

“We get a filming schedule at the beginning of the week,” Damien said. You looked at Carly as if to say There, see? A perfectly good reason. Now back off and let the poor boy breathe. But then Damien continued: “and Shayne told me about seeing Y/N on Saturday, so --”

He cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut as he seemed to realize what he’d said. Your gaze flew from Carly to Damien. For a moment, you felt thoroughly like a middle schooler; the he-said-she-said was something you thought would get left in sixth grade, but here you were nonetheless. Still, you couldn’t help the way your heart rate accelerated at Damien’s words. If Shayne had mentioned you specifically…

“What?” you asked.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. You couldn’t get your hopes up. Shayne mentioning you didn’t mean anything. Besides, he had a new girlfriend now, anyway. He’d probably just done it since you and Damien were friends before shit hit the fan.

Damien didn’t get the chance to answer your question before Shayne returned from his conversation with the cameraperson. You were pretty sure he knew that you guys had been talking about him; it was pretty obvious by the way the conversation stopped short as soon as he got within earshot. But if he knew, he didn’t comment on it. He just walked over and took his place next to you.

Carly flashed him a look colder than the south pole and moved to stand on your other side, and then she plastered the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face. You did the same.

“Alright, everybody ready?” one of the crew people asked. You nodded your assent. “Three, two, and… action!”

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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hazinhoodies · 4 years

Text

I Go Crazy (T.H)

A/N: its been so long since i’ve written a one shot. and for tom? we wildin. this is based off the song i go crazy by orla gartland but the acoustic version fits way more than the non-acoustic one

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1.7k (without lyrics)

I've got no clue what you're thinking

You move your hand away from mine

Shifty eyes and indecisions

Why does this happen every time?

Tom watches as you lean against the counter, phone in one hand, the other holding the handle of the spoon you were using to stir the pasta in the pot next to you. You scrolled mindlessly through whatever was in your phone, occasionally smiling at something you saw but it was never more than a couple seconds that the smile Tom adores so much dissipates and you’re back to your mindless activities. He wishes he could see inside your head right now. He used to be able to tell what you were thinking with impeccable accuracy, and now he can’t even tell what you’re feeling.

You pull out one noodle and pop it in your mouth, after a couple seconds you turn off your phone and place it down on the counter, the spoon gets placed right next to it as you shuffle around to drain the pasta.

“I can do that for you, love” Tom offers as he pushes himself off the counter, ready to help.

You turn to look at him and pull your lips into a tight smile before you start speaking. “I got it, Tommy. Thank you though.” You lift the pot and Tom watches as you carefully drain the pasta. “Do you want to go start the movie?” You ask, your voice light and airy. Tom only nods before sitting on the couch and pulling up the movie you had planned to watch together tonight.

When you come back, one bowl in each hand, you hand Tom his bowl with a small smile. He takes with with a quiet thank you which you answer with a nod before you sit on the couch as well. The other side of it though. Tom tries to ignore the intense feeling of wanting you next to him, wanting his arm around you, but sometimes it overpowers the television.

Nonetheless, he sits and watches the movie. Fighting off the magnetic desire to move over to you

Won't somebody hold me and tell me

It'll all work out

Say that there's nothing

To worry about now

'Cause I'm so sick of the drama

And I hate to shout

But you drag it out of me

A couple days later you and Tom are out at dinner, just the two of you. You’re talking about work and he does too. He tells you of all the stupid stories from set anf you tell him of the new projects at work. But things feel off. You’re not laughing as much or smiling as much as you normally do. Things have felt off since Tom came back from filming a couple weeks ago. You’d hardly touched him since the day after he came back. You’d hardly talked to him. When you did it felt like you were just running through a routine.

Hesitantly, Tom reaches out to place his hand on top of yours on the table. His hand hardly brushes against yours before you’re pulling your hand back. Once the immediate feeling of being shot through his heart fades, he pulls his own hand back into his lap. Conversation falls flat after that, the silence between you in uncomfortably tense and Tom hates it. Holy fuck he hates it. You sleep on opposite sides of the bed that night, back to back, neither touching the other.

Toms sitting on the couch when you get home later. He’s reading through a script and it’s been particularly difficult for him to focus on it for the while he’d be sitting there, he’d wanted nothing more than for you to come and to be able to cuddle up to you and put the script down. Or maybe you’d read it to him like you’d done a few times, with silly voices for every character. He’d just gotten into the deepest focus he had yet when he heard the jangle of your keys followed by the turn of the lock and the squeak of the hinge he’d meant to fix months ago.

You step through the door, shaking off your umbrella and then hanging it up followed by your coat and your shoes come off last. Tom doesn’t even get a chance to get a word in before you start talking.

“Hey, Tom. I’m going out for drinks with some old friends in about an hour. Not sure when I’ll be home so don’t wait up for me for bed” You send him a small yet genuine smile. Although the genuinity wasn’t from seeing him. It’s for the fact that you’re seeing old friends. He can tell that much. Oh how he wishes it was for him instead.

A look at his phone tells Tom that you’re home an hour later from work. Again. He doesn’t ask about it.

Sure enough forty five minutes later you’ve exited your shared bedroom looking fresh and happy. Your makeup and hair are done, or at least touched up, and you’re pulling your jacket over your arms and grabbing your purse, telling Tom a quick goodbye.

“Have fun. Love you.” He shouts back.

The door slams shut. He goes back to his script.

Three words, two hearts, one maybe

Say something before I go crazy now

And my tears, your tears don't faze me

Say something before I go crazy now

Tom finds himself at Harrison’s a couple of days later. He sits at his kitchen counter, he rotates the half empty mug of room temperature tea around and around and around, watching as the tea ripples with each shaky handed movement. He can’t get you out of his mind. Not in the way he likes either. Normally, he wouldn’t mind the thought of you but now he can’t seem to focus on anything but the way you’ve been acting since he came back. Distant, quiet, and bleak, Tom wishes he could get inside your head and find an answer. He wishes he had the courage to ask you about it. He wishes you’d reciprocate his affection, but he’s so tired of getting nothing in return that he’s stopped reaching out, maybe it’s partially his fault for not fighting harder for you but he’s so exhausted already. Normally your relationship would be fifty-fifty, each of you putting in the same amount of effort unless one of you has a bad day and its offset to a sixty-forty until the other feels better. Tom can only pull eighty-twenty for so long.

“Are you alright?” Tom hadn’t even realized that Harrison had been talking the whole time, he whips his head up to look at his friend, ignoring the jolt of whiplash that runs through his neck. Harrison’s brow is furrowed and his head is tilted.

“Yeah. Yeah. ‘M alright” Tom looks back into his tea.

“No you’re not. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine”

“Tom. I’ve known you since we were 15 and I could tell something was off when you walked through the door. What’s wrong?”

“Things with Y/n have just been weird lately. Bad weird. I can’t talk to her about anything I can’t even hold her fucking hand” Tom starts talking and everything just spills out one after the other and Harrison listens through it all, hearing some things that he never really planned on knowing about you but this isn’t the time to interrupt Tom and he knows that. It's not often that Tom gets this emotional or that everything builds up unlike Harrison who seems to have a new reason to rant to Tom every other day. It’s almost shocking, the amount of words that come out of Tom as tears well up in his eyes and his words slur together. He can hear how Tom’s throat constricts whenever he says your name now and how he has to pause and take a breath to prevent the tears from spilling over.

“Shit, mate” It’s all Harrison is able to say after Tom finishes speaking, looking up at his best friend with red rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Tell me that it’ll all be fine” Tom sighs and reluctantly take a sip of his tea. It doesn't have the same effect he wishes it had. He thinks it might’ve been better if it’d burned his tongue and throat as he swallowed but it does nothing of the sort.

“I’m not gonna lie to you like that. Trust me I’d love to tell you that there’s nothing to stress over and that everything will work itself out but I can’t. This seems very real, Tom.”

“Breaking up is an actual possibility isn’t it” Tom asks and takes a moment to look up at Harrison who only nods, tears nearly spilling over his own cheeks as Tom’s finally break surface tension and everything’s set loose.

I feel like all of this has aged me

Right on the edge of twenty-two

You look like you've just seen a monster

Is that what I look like to you?

The following weeks only made things worse. Tom stopped reaching out to you, both literally and figuratively. He’d nearly given up all hope on you returning his emotions, there was only a little left that he was desperately holding onto, praying that you would reach out your hand to him and apologize then you two could start to fix things.

But he knows that won't happen.

“Do you even love me anymore?”

Tom takes his eyes off the road for a moment to pose the question as he drives to the airport. Surely not the best time but he has to ask before he gets on the plane. He knows that whatever minute chance there was at saving this would be gone once he stepped on the plane.

It’s a different level of pain when the person who once touched you with the most sucrosed affection looks at you with cold, indifferent eyes and speaks monotonously about mundane things. Questions go unanswered. The plans you’d made never happen, the things you say don’t seem important to them or even relevant. Because in the end it seems like they don’t want you anymore. That’s how Tom feels as he sits there in the car, wondering how long he meant nothing to you, and how long you’d been pretending he did.

There’s a shift in your eyes. The glaze dissipates as they widen and then sink through from panic to worry to guilt to sorrow. It’s the most emotion Tom has seen from you in weeks and it couldn’t have come at a worse time. You don’t answer. You don’t even look at Tom, not until a few minutes later when you change the subject.

“Harry’s flying out in a couple of weeks for the rest of the trip right?”

“That’s what I thought” Tom replies and you know not to say anymore.

Whatever small chance that there was at saving your relationship is gone as soon as Tom gets on that plane and leaves. Despite the way his chest weighs him down, as Tom gets closer to the gate he knows that he can’t turn back, knows that he can’t fight for it anymore. It was only a matter of time.

Three words, two hearts, one maybe

Say something before I go crazy now

My tears, your fears amaze me

But I'm still so devoted to you it scares me

Three words, two hearts, one maybe

Say something before I go crazy now

And my tears, your fears don't faze me

Just say something before I go crazy now

It's only a matter of time, a matter of time, a matter of time

tags:

@hjosterfield @gioandreolli @badhollandfluff @devilmendes @soccerstud004 @phia_eilice @nokiaholland @itseightbeats @peterpxrker @miraculousmckenzie @worldoftom @thenoddingbunny-blog @thegirlwiththeimpala @the-crazy-fanfictionist @tomzfrog @unbelievableholland @keithseabrook27

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland ff #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x yn

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savrenim · 4 years

Text

oneemotionperday replied to your post “oneemotionperday replied to your post “trying desperately not to let...”

Omg you followed me back sjkalshflakasjsns I'm SCREAMING I LOVE YOUR BLOG AND YOUR WRITING

aaaah oh my gods I am just a Simple Person you show up in my notifs a fair amount and scrolling through your blog was an ‘oh huh this seems like the sort of content I like on my dash’ and that about fully informs my tumblr habits, tbh if you’ve commented on things before I’m almost surprised I didn’t follow you earlier

answering everything in one -- it is.... fairly unlikely that an actual fic will happen, a short one-shot that gets posted to tumblr very well might because the idea is just so funny but it’s also.... it almost feels like the idea needs no more building on? like just. the scenes are there and so funny to imagine like the whiplash of Andy going “oh gods do I need to take care of these immortals too” when she meets Isaac and Miria and then learning nope there’s a whole immortal Mafia that has it under control

(like alt if the story was to start in an action setting and not a comedic setting of running into Isaac and Miria when both on a heist, there would be a dramatic shootout between Andy & Co and Everyone Dies and then there’s a realization on both sides of “OH FUCK, IMMORTALS” and then a realization that the rules work slightly differently? because just “all of our rules apply to ourselves and see you as immortal, but do not apply to you” is such a cool weird setup.)

(like also the clear and obvious world background to that one is just “two different demons gave out immortality a bit differently” that at least writes itself)

the other, like, HILARIOUS scene in my mind is Czes runs into one of them, tries to introduce himself as Thomas, introduces himself as Czes, and then immediately goes “who the fuck made you immortal bc we thought we knew everyone who had access to that information” and Andy & Co go “oh my GODS IS A CHILD IMMORTAL IS THERE NO MERCY IN THIS WORLD” (and then immediately “...wait....more immortals......” “actually um hey funny question has anyone else in this group had a really funny dream about a train that then just turned into a series of dreams about increasingly improbable robberies because I wrote it off on account of it being too ridiculous but, uh....”)

there are possibilities just I don’t think enough possibilities and enough of a plot to draw me away from all my active writing projects all of them

also can I rant for a moment about how much I love magic rules, the current set of magic rules that I think I’ve maybe got the answer on both counts namely “can immortals get haircuts”

bc in Baccano it is pretty strongly implied that nah you’re frozen exactly the way that you are when you took the elixir, as well as we have evidence from Czes and acid and fire and what-not still having hair that nah hair is also a thing that follows the same regeneration rules. EXCEPT. if you look at screenshots of Huey on the ship and Huey in the 1900s, Huey has clearly gotten a haircut in between. which leads me to my theory that is not my theory it was my friend’s but it’s gotta be the answer: your hair does not grow and it does re-attach and if you want a haircut what you gotta do is lock your hair in a box really quickly so it cannot physically re-attach itself to your body and is just stuck in the box

which also leads to my hilarious idea of “okay but if you want your friends to find you, you should give all your friends little clippings of your hair that they can put in clear boxes and then they will have little hair compasses that will always point towards you”

anyways. hair works differently in The Old Guard!!!!

because first of all Andy clearly has had a haircut in the modern day vs centuries ago. so they can cut hair!!!! but also nobody’s hair looks different in the movies after explosions / gunshots / etc. specifically, when Nile is shot all the way through the head in the first scene with Andy, I’m fairly certain that the blood marks on the back of her head indicated that the bullet had gone all the way through, and, given their placement, should have totally messed with two of her braids, but her hair was perfect and not ripped up afterwards

so clearly something interesting is going on in the hair department there. my theory is that their regeneration has to do with being hurt, and that their bodies will reset back to what they were just before they got hurt, which means that if your hair is harmed in the line of duty dying it will return to the perfect state it was in before, but if you’re just chill and want a haircut it’ll be fine you can get a haircut

can you tell if I was the evil scientist in charge of interrogating the captured immortals I 100% wouldn’t have bothered doing evil things like stealing samples of their DNA in painful ways etc etc I just would have sat them down in very comfortable chairs and had a long conversation with them about exactly how their hair worked because it’s Very Important, Inquiring Minds Need To Know, what are the rules of your immortality CAN YOU GET HAIRCUTS

#oneemotionperday #baccano #the old guard #magic and magic rules #the old guard spoilers

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rusty-guitar-strings · 5 years

Text

Sleep Schedule

or This Fic Switches from Fluff to Angst so Fast it Gave Me Whiplash and I’m the One Who Wrote It (Not Sponsored by Starbucks)

Summary: Someone can’t sleep. Two someones, actually, and neither of them want to do anything about it. They do want the other person to sleep though. How could this possibly be solved?

Logan has work to do. Remy has no work to do, but is staying up anyway, for some reason Logan can’t comprehend. Remy is hiding something. Logan intends to find out what.

Rating: G or T

Pairings: Losleep/Sleep Schedule (goin’ full RWBY on these ship names)

Word Count: 2,025

Warnings: cursing, playful arguing, two very slight sexual innuendos, use of an undesired name (not deadnaming but similar), crying, one mention of religion

Note: This was written on request/suggestion from @blinksinbewilderment. My first kind-of sort-of request. I do take them!! Anyway enjoy. Also I love Remy. (If you can find the nod to blink I crammed in there, you win a hat)

All-nighters were better when they weren’t ‘all-alone-nighters’ as Remy liked to call them. Luckily, Logan wasn’t currently dealing with loneliness. No, it was quite the opposite.

“Oi, Squid-nerd, check it.” Logan’s very important financing for props of an upcoming video was suddenly blocked by the Sleep aspect’s phone, which contained a meme of some sort. He squinted wearily and adjusted his glasses, leaning in to get a closer look. It appeared to be Winnie the Pooh (what was a ‘pooh’ anyway?) effectively mimicking Logan’s current expression. The top mentioned something about someone’s mom looking at memes, and it was all he could do not to sputter.

“That is not nearly as amusing as you seem to find it, Remigius, and it doesn’t- it’s not even accurate, I can’t- I’m not your mother, that’s impossible- stop laughing-“

Remy was rolling on the floor now, knees to his chest, absolutely weeping with laughter. He got far too giggly when he was sleep deprived, in addition to the sass, and it was as frustrating as it was endearing. “I can’t believe that worked! Girl, you are too much!” He shrieked and wiped his face, chest seizing with giggles.

“How do you expect anyone else to be asleep with all this pandemonium?” Logan couldn’t quite hide all the fondness from his voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be monitoring Thomas’ dream activity, anyhow?”

“Boring business,” the diva wheezed, waving Logan off dismissively. “Same old stuff, weird self-inserts he won’t even remember when he wakes up.”

“Remigi-“

“Remy.”

“Yes, fine, Remy. Your job is important, you should be taking every aspect of it seriously.” Logan lifted an eyebrow at him, managing to pull a serious enough expression for how late at night it was.

The figment in question was sitting up in the blink of an eye, grinning smugly. His shades obscured his eyes for the moment, but Logan knew they were gleaming with mischief.

“Ha. You said ‘Spec.’”

“Really? That’s what you went with?”

“The best jokes are unanticipated and take time to understand,” he stated matter-of-factly, in an infuriatingly accurate impression of Logic himself.

“You shut your mouth, sir.” Logan shoved a hand in Remy’s face in a feeble attempt to get him to stop.

Instead, he took Logan’s hand and, making eye contact over his shades for a split second, pressed a gentle kiss to the back of the side’s knuckles. “Like this?” He purred, lips curling into his usual smirk.

“That’s acceptable, yes.” Logan, determined not to be deterred from his signature stoic state, took back possession of his hand and patted Remy twice on the head before returning to his laptop. He bit the inside of his lip to avoid smiling at Remy’s obvious deflation. He continued his budgeting uninterrupted for a few blissful moments.

“Hey L, I have a proper- poorpro- a propsit-“

“Proposition?”

“Yes, a that. I have one of those for you.” Remy stared up at him through his shades, now kneeling next to Logan’s swivel chair. His arms were folded on one arm rest and he had his chin on them, successfully equating him to the puppies that Roman summoned so often.

“All right, Remig- Remy, what is it?”

“Get your ass in bed and go the fuck to sleep.”

“Profanity does not make one more appealing.” Logan didn’t stop typing. “And you should also be sleeping.”

“I don’t need sleep, honey, I am Sleep.” Remy stuck his tongue out teasingly.

“Falsehoods are not a good look on you, sweetie,” Logan deadpanned. Remy fell backward with a gasp.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Logan?” He demanded. At the end of his accusatory point, the side in question tried not to preen at the (admittedly over-dramatic) reaction to his outburst.

“I am still present.”

“Good. Go to sleep.”

“Why?” Logan waited patiently for his desired statement.

“Because you need it.”

That wasn’t quite it, so he tried again. “And why is that?” He asked evenly, adding Roman’s desperately important party poppers to the budget and scrawling a sticky note reminder to warn Virgil of the prince’s plans. The last thing they needed in a lighthearted video was an attack from him. Or on him. Logan added another sticky note directing future Logan to further explore Virgil’s role as anxiety, if he was the cause or effect, or if he could be both. He almost missed what Remy said, which would have been a disaster.

“Because sleep is important, Dumbo!”

“Ah ha!” Logan whirled in his chair triumphantly, the tip of his pen pointing directly at the figment’s nose. “So we are in agreement, then.”

Remy blinked in bewilderment. “What?”

“We both agree that you-“

“Stoppin’ ya right there, babes.” He waved a hand and conjured green tea in a Starbucks cup (not sponsored), a peculiar ability of his that Logan had yet to discover the reasoning behind. “I didn’t say nothin’ like that.”

“Why are you using double negatives? That is a disgusting misuse of the English language.” Logan, a certified nerd, gave Remy the dreaded Stare of Disappointment™️. Everyone in the Mindscape trembled in their figurative boots. But they were also asleep, so… figurative dream boots. Unless they weren’t wearing boots. They trembled in their figurative dream boots-or-other-footwear. Logan almost missed what Remy was saying for the third consecutive time.

“English is already disgusting, she doesn’t need my help.” He waved a hand. “End scene. Go to bed.”

“Roman appears to be rubbing off on you.” The creative side was the one to originate the habit of saying ‘end scene’ when he wanted to drop a conversation, and lately had begun to use it more and more seriously.

“Bitch, what did I say?” He pointed sternly at the bed, sitting with his legs crossed in the floor like toddler.

Logan tilted his chin upward defiantly. “Only if you sleep with me.” He was promptly hit in the face with a pillow.

“Ew! Nasty! No ma’am! Not in my good Christian household!” A multitude of other objects were thrown at him, luckily light and mostly harmless.

“Remigius, please- Remy! Let me rephrase, I did not intend to imply that we would, ah-“ he cleared his throat. “-have intercourse. If I am going to sleep, I want you to as well. Nothing more.” Logan adjusted his glasses awkwardly.

“Oh. Well, in that case, you’ve got a deal.” Remy looked around at the mess he’d made. “This looks like a problem for future me. I’m gonna get changed, see ya in a bit, boo.” He stood, winking. “Unless you want to join me.”

“No. I can change quite well on my own, thank you.” In a split second, Logan was wearing a science pun t-shirt (courtesy of Patton) and constellation pajama pants, and was idly removing his glasses to place them on his nightstand. He smirked to himself as Remy disappeared into the closet, complaining under his breath about how unfair his powers were and the fact that he had to change by hand.

About ten minutes later, Remy was in a tank top and shorts and his sunglasses still, lying next to Logan in bed and scrolling through his phone idly while the other attempted to sleep.

“Remy,” Logan whispered after a moment, harsh and sudden enough to make the figment jump and drop his phone. “Go to sleep.”

“Not until you do, wise guy.” He immediately regained a cool composure and reached for his device carefully.

“Are you always this hard-headed?” Logan sat up.

“Darling, have you met me?” Remy quirked an infuriatingly perfect eyebrow.

“Remigius-“

“Don’t call me that!” Sleep looked as stunned as Logan felt at his own outburst, then stiffened up and focused on his screen again instead. “Please.”

“Apologies. I wasn’t aware your proper name was a… sensitive… subject.” Logan rubbed one eye, staring downward. The other didn’t look up.

“It isn’t. I just don’t like how similar it is to… his.” He tapped his phone once with odd finality. “End scene.”

“I’m sorry, Remy, truly. I just believe that things should be called what they are, but I shouldn’t have applied that to-“

“End scene, Logan,” he persisted. “Please.” His voice broke a little, startling Logic, which was a rarity.

“Of course.” He fell silent and turned back to the blankets, rewinding the events in his mind and wondering what he’d done. It was unusual to see Sleep silent, still, and just… not causing general mischief. Where was the giggly figment he’d seen less than an hour ago? “Will you at least try and rest?”

“No rest for the wicked.” Remy smirked, typing something to someone, but it lacked the usual fire. “I meant what I said earlier. After you.”

“Remy…”

“It’s no biggie, Issac No-Fun. Go ahead and nod off, I’ll be here.”

“Rem-“

“I can hold down the fort, you know. My incredible humility prevents me from sharing my immense capability.”

“Remy. Look at me?”

“‘Course, I’d never complain about getting to- woah!” He jumped slightly when Logan took a light hold of his jaw, not daring to pull away.

“You mean that literally, don’t you?” Logan swallowed, all of his late nights or totally sleepless ones crashing back with a wave of a guilt to accompany them. “You are incapable of sleeping until everyone in the mind palace is no longer awake.”

Remy shrugged and opened his mouth, as if preparing a snarky comeback. Instead, what came out was, “It’s my job.”

Logan pushed Remy’s sunglasses up into his hair carefully, revealing dark, watery eyes shadowed by sleepless nights too numerous to count. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “that you feel the need to use caffeine to stay awake.”

“I’m so goddamn tired, Logan,” the poorly named figment whispered, head falling forward to rest against Logan’s chest. “I can’t even take naps, it’s so fucking miserable…”

Logic softened, lifting his arms after a moment to wrap them around Remy. One hand cradled the back of his head as his body trembled against Logan’s and he let out a single, shuddering sob. “I know. We are- I am going to set a more steady sleep schedule. For all of us, including you. Would that be alright?”

Sleep nodded slightly against him, sitting up enough to try and rub his face. Logan lifted a tissue. “May I?” At another nod, he wiped Remy’s eyes, then handed it to him. “Blow. I will return with some water.” He pulled away slowly, then left the room after pausing to glance back.

Upon his return, Logan found Remy still sitting up smirking a little at something on his phone. He tried not to focus on how nice the figment’s eyes looked now that he could actually see them. He offered him the glass of water instead, then slid onto the bed next to him. “Drink at least half,” he advised.

Remy nodded, downed the water according to his orders, then wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. “Thanks, L.”

“No need. Lie back.”

“Dominant, are we?”

“Remy, lie back before I push you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it. No need to get your tie in a twist.” He shifted to lay on his side, eyes still a bit teary. Logan reached out a hand to wipe them away gently. The tears. Remy’s eyes remained stationary. He tugged Remy’s shades from his hair and placed them on the nightstand next to his own glasses.

“Good. Relax, I am going to sleep so that you can. Please take advantage of it.”

“I will.”

“Good.” Logan closed his eyes, lying down as well. He scooted a bit closer to Remy to wrap an arm over him from behind, no matter how it made his skin burn with heat. No one else was around to see.

“Night, babe,” Remy whispered, and that was the last thing Logan heard until morning.

The next day, the two would share knowing glances while going about their daily tasks. Logan would present his sleep schedule, Remy would deny everything that happened the previous night, and then eventually he would confess the nature of his powers. He would receive shock and some concern, and everyone would abide to Logan’s plan. And everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remy sanders #losleep #angst #fluff #hc #author ari #im remy trash i cant stop writing him #send help #also logan is a delight #and i like roman and am gonna do him next #send requests pls

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starlightinhumanform · 4 years

Text

The Art of Love: Chapter 13

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora

Summary: Glimmer finally answers Adora’s text and gets to spend some quality Mom-Daughter time with Angella because they deserve it 😤

Warnings (for this chapter): Some descriptions of anxious thoughts (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: Updates have really slowed down on this fic simply due to the current conditions of the world but I’m very excited for the future of this fic and I appreciate your continued support through all the ups and downs 🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 The Art of Love Masterpost Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Hey I was wondering how you were? Lmao I sound like a grandma but really. You seemed kinda out of it today and I wanted to make sure you were doing alright (it’s probably cuz I kept you up working on the dumb project all night lol) so yeah just wanted to check in cuz we didn’t really get to talk today :)

The first thing that struck Glimmer about the text was the fact that Adora had written her an entire paragraph. The second thing that hit her was that the entire said paragraph was all basically to ask how she was. It was silly and overly concerned and so very Adora. Nobody else would do something so sweet and manage to make it so ridiculous at that same time.

A wave of relief washed over Glimmer. So Adora wasn’t asking about Elizabeth and hadn’t mentioned anything about Glimmer’s crush. Glimmer could remain safe in her little bubble as long as Adora stayed within her own lines of ignorance. That would only last so long, however. For all she knew, that bubble had already popped.

Glimmer realized with a start that it was quite possible that Adora was simply leading up to that point, too polite to confront her right off the bat. Just wanted to check in... we didn’t really get to talk today.

Either Adora actually was just asking her what was up, or she wanted to “talk” to her. Glimmer wasn’t sure which option was more terrifying. Given how their past conversations had gone, Glimmer had absolutely no confidence in her ability to talk to anyone, let alone to someone she was crushing on- let alone to Adora.

She chewed her lip for a second, unsure of what to do. If Adora was still clueless and she started confessing to something Adora was completely unaware of, it would be worse than Elizabeth confessing it for her.

She thought of Adora, chilling at home, probably working away on some assignment like the nerd that she was. Glimmer started giggling at the idea of Adora pausing for a moment because she got a text and it was just Glimmer screaming: YES I HAVE A MAJOR CRUSH ON YOU EVERYTHING ELIZABETH SAID WAS TRUE ALSO WOULD YOU LIKE TO RUN AWAY WITH ME AND START A SHEEP FARM IN THE NETHERLANDS???

Yeah, ok so that option was not going to happen. She should probably just play it cool, like a normal person texting their normal friend. Her brain felt the need to interject: Yeah right- “normal person,“ that’s you. The little voice continued: “Normal friend”- that’s a funny way to put it.

Suddenly another wave hit Glimmer, and this one felt like an entire brick wall crumbing on top of her. Except it was good. It felt soft and warm and made Glimmer feel like maybe, just maybe, things would be ok. The sensation spread up from her toes and erupted in her chest until it reached the very tips of her fingers. It made her stretch her legs out and reach backwards with her arms until they were fully extended because it filled her heart up so much, she couldn’t contain it all in her small form.

Because even if Glimmer wasn’t as close to Adora as she wanted, they were friends. At least, that’s where things were hopefully pointing to. Was it perfect? No. Was it everything Glimmer wanted and more? Obviously not. But was it good? God, yes. It was something Glimmer had never thought was possible; it was something she had been actively trying not to pursue out of the conviction that it would all go wrong and she would get hurt. But this didn’t hurt. Not in the slightest.

Riding on the euphoria, she typed out a quick response:

I’m good. And yeah sorry I was pretty tired today lol Weaver has destroyed my sleep schedule. Also you sound like you ACTUALLY want me to talk to you?? How absolutely scandalous???

Glimmer let her feet swing back and forth, heels kicking against the side of her mattress. Tiny little bubbles of hope kept rising up towards her head because this was almost- very, nearly maybe- a step forward. A step towards being a little more than friends with Adora. Ha, this isn’t a step towards anything. You’re not going to get anywhere with her. Getting this high off the ground just means it’ll hurt more when this cloud dissolves under your feet. Because that’s exactly what this is- you’re letting yourself rely on cotton candy daydreams and sooner or later they’re going to dissolve beneath you.

Glimmer shook the negative thoughts off and switched conversations to scroll through the memes Bow had sent her. They were undoubtedly funny but she hardly registered the images; she had other things to be happy about.

Bow was probably going to annoy her about this later but Glimmer couldn’t resist the urge to gush:

BOW BOW BOW

SHE’S TEXTING ME

LIKE A FRIEND

ASKING ME HOW I AM

OOO???

Glimmer grinned at Bow’s quick response but she knew the real reason she was smiling.

I knoooooooow. I so happy

So you still think she hates you?

Her grin faltered for a moment before returning, slightly weaker than it had been before.

BLEH why’d you have to bring that upppppp

And I don’t know? Maybe she doesn’t hate me but she doesn’t have any reason NOT to

Glimmer i love you but you can be SO DENSE sometimes

She DOES have a reason not to hate you?? Maybe it’s possible that she thinks you’re smart and funny and talented? I don’t know tho- I’m just throwing stuff out here. Also she might actually LIKE you maybe as a friend,,, maybe more ;)

Glimmer snorted at Bow’s ranting. He was sweet and a far better friend than she could ever rationalize deserving. But he was high off his own optimistic ideals.

There is definitely nothing “more” I don’t even think we’re officially friends yet. More like uuuuhh acquaintances with benefits

OHOHO???

Glimmer immediately regretted her word choice, laughing as she buried her face in her hands.

NOT LIKE THAT. PERVERT.

She waited for Bow’s answer, laughing quietly at their ridiculous conversation. As the little dots marched to indicate Bow’s typing, a buzz and flag altered Glimmer that Adora had responded.

She texted back gotta go

Switching once more to her and Adora’s conversation, the first thing Glimmer found herself marveling at was her own stupidity. The giddy feeling that had been all-consuming now faded away as she reread her message. It sounded clingy and overly confident. It definitely felt worthy of the cringe the shuddered through her body and made her want to curl up in a ball. What had her euphoric-high brain been trying to do? Flirt? If so, she had desperately failed.

Still in embarrassed pain, she moved on to Adora’s message:

How many times do I have to tell you YES I want to talk to you.

But there was something in particular I wanted to talk to you about

The second part made Glimmer’s blood run cold. Adora continued typing but she didn’t dare respond, too frozen to type. All the stars that had been floating in her eyes crashed around her. So she did know. So Glimmer’s worst fears were reality. And there was nothing she could do about it now. After an eternity, Adora’s message finally jumped onto Glimmer’s screen.

It’s about this morning. Well and today. And last night. Kinda. I just feel like I might have made you uncomfortable last night, like I was being really clingy so then this morning I felt really awkward and I’m sorry if I came off as cold or anything. And then in class you seemed all tense and I was just wondering if I had crossed some lines or anything?

Glimmer could have sworn she heard a record scratch in her head, nearly getting whiplash from reading Adora’s message. The situation kept switching so quickly; as soon as she got one foot on the rug, it would be pulled out from under her and she would look down and it turn out she had been standing on raft in the middle of the ocean the entire time.

She squinted to reread the message one more time and gave a breathy laugh when she had determined she had read it correctly the first time. Adora was the one that thought she had crossed lines? It was ridiculous. It seemed so unrealistic, Glimmer nearly slipped into her original thinking of Adora. If only she hadn’t been forced to see that nuclear core that made up that crazy blonde. That would have made everything so much easier. She could just brush the whole message as a ploy to gain sympathy. But know she had to know better. Now, she had to acknowledge that Adora was being completely sincere.

Glimmer had no idea how to respond. Adora was being completely open, completely vulnerable; and it was terrifying. It was almost worse than when she was wrapped up in doubt. It was the difference between not knowing why someone was ill and knowing exactly what was wrong- all while being expected to find the solution. Except Glimmer wasn’t a doctor. She had no cure for the situation.

She forced confidence, pushing away all her question just long enough to respond.

Are you going to make a habit of sending me essays?

She immediately regretted how cold she sounded and hurriedly began trying to remedy the conversation.

I’m sorry but really you’re fine. I didn’t mind you... if I came across as stiff or weird about anything it’s just because I’m not really used to people getting that close that quickly

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the complete truth either, but it was close enough for now.

oh god I’m really sorry

What no?? I just said it was fine??

Still... that really sounds like I made you uncomfortable

Glimmer let out a sigh. She never thought she’d find herself trying to convince someone she was becoming increasingly infatuated with that it was ok to be close with her. It sounded strange when she thought about, but there was something endearing about how Adora barreled her way into Glimmer’s life and was now trying tiptoe out of the china shop.

I was a little surprised that’s all. You’re all good

Really? Even after I said I would kill weaver in class today?? You didn’t think that was weird??!

No lmao again I was a bit surprised but I mostly thought it was funny

You sure about that

Yep 100%

If you were in person right now you would hear me go hmmmmmmm

Glimmer snorted quietly out of her nose; Adora made her laugh at the stupidest things. She was entirely convinced that she would never be as funny as Adora, but she hoped she could bring her at least just a little bit of happiness.

Yeah well if you were in person right now you would see me roll my eyes and yell at you to stop being dumb

A shallow pain spread across Glimmer’s chest, a coat of lead paint over her heart; milky indigo weighing her down. If only Adora’s casual jokes were a reality. If only she were face to face with Adora. If only Adora’s face was inches from her own and quickly coming closer. Glimmer’s hands ached to run through Adora’s hair and her ears cried to hear Adora’s voice. She didn’t want to look anywhere if it wasn’t into the storm of Adora’s eyes. Her throat was hoarse from emotion but she would sing if it meant she could bear witness once more to the way Adora wove melodies out of the air.

Glimmer sat up as if startled from a dream. This- this, oh no. Oh shit. This has gone much too far. You should have stopped this before it even started. How did you even let this happen?

Glimmer had know Adora was beautiful since she saw her on the first day of school. Ignoring her and twisting her into some villain had made it a simple thing to deal with, but she couldn’t ignore the iceberg once her Titanic had begun sinking. And now she was officially sunk, water far above her head and no hope of survival to be seen.

There was a sliver of Glimmer- some crazy little fraction of her mind that had to scream to be heard- that just wanted to rip the band aid off. She wanted to stop giving all the power to other people. If someone was going to tell Adora that Glimmer had hopelessly fallen for her, it might as well come from the source.

She looked down at her phone, suddenly aware that Adora had responded.

Hey I gotta go I just wanted to check that we were ok! I’m glad you don’t mind me lmao

Glimmer took a deep breath, making an attempt to gather her thoughts. It was a hopeless effort, her mind fragmented across the room. Did Adora really worry that Glimmer “minded” her? Was there in way to describe the burning that struck in her chest whenever Adora gave her one of those soft grins- that dull ache that constricted her heart and seeped through her ribs. How could she ever reassure Adora she could never be bothersome when every one of her actions struck Glimmer with wonder? How could she even attempt to say such a thing with revealing everything, admitting her mind’s greatest fear? How could she try to convince Adora of something that she couldn’t even admit to herself.

Because the answer was quite simple. She loved Adora. Deeply and painfully. But no matter how perfect Adora was, it still felt dangerous to love her. To Glimmer, it was just as good as putting a target on her back. It was like saying HEY EVERYONE!! I’M ALREADY WEIRD AND SO SO DIFFERENT FROM YOU AND NOW I’M PUTTING THAT ON DISPLAY!

Glimmer was being pulled apart. She knew she shouldn’t show her affection to Adora. But she knew just as deeply and far more truly that she loved Adora- and keeping that inside of her would break her heart.

She threw or phone and thoughts (momentarily) aside, flopping backwards on her bed. Her body bounced slightly from the force of throwing herself down and it only added to the sensation that her head was floating away. There was just too much to tackle right now. Glimmer could tell from the growing pressure on her head that if she kept picking it all apart, the pressure would quickly shift; it would tighten around her lungs, making it hard to breathe and squeezing what she couldn’t force down to pour down her face.

Glimmer took a deep breath, through her nose and out her mouth- once, twice, three times, she lost count as she focused solely on the rhythm she was creating. These past few days had been chaotic and exhausting and good part of that had been created by her. She was tired. Her brain felt heavy as gravity retook control over her head. In fact, her whole body felt heavy; she was sinking deeper into her mattress with every exhale.

——————————————————————

When Glimmer woke up, the last hues of dusk just barely reached her window. It was obvious that the night had happily creeped onwards while she had slept. She must have been out for at least an hour.

Down the hall, she could hear voices of some TV show her mom was watching as they flickered out of the speakers.

Glimmer opened her door, peaking around the frame and looking down the hall. She could just see the top of her mother’s pastel hair above the top of the couch. In front of her, what looked like Hell’s Kitchen was playing. Glimmer was somewhat amazed that she had been able to sleep through Gordon Ramsey’s yelling.

She walked towards the living room and sat down next to Angella on the couch. She was asleep, hair mussed up in the back as she leaned up against the cushions. Glimmer felt a wave of affection wash over her. Whatever happened at school, whatever happened with Adora- hell, whatever happened within herself- she would always love her mother. Sometimes things got in the way of her remembering that.

Glimmer nudged her mom gently in the side, “Hey, wake up.”

Angella stirred, smiling as her gaze fell upon Glimmer, “Hey, dear.”

Glimmer squirmed under her mother’s softness, guilt over how she had acted earlier hitting her, “I’m really sorry. About how I treated you at dinner. I was really rude and nights like this are basically the only time we have together; I shouldn’t waste them being a brat to you.”

“You’re a teenager and we don’t exactly see eye to eye on everything- I expect this sort of thing to happen occasionally.”

“But I-“ Glimmer tried to argue but was cut off.

“But I appreciate you apologizing.”

“Mom!!” Glimmer felt like her mother should have been angrier, should have at least told her off for stomping down to her room as rudely as she had. And she had done it in response to her mom just trying her best to help. That must have hurt.

“Glimmer!!” Angella mirrored her daughter’s exasperation, “You really think I didn’t slam doors and yell and act out when I was your age? I don’t necessarily like it, but a little angsty rebellion is normal. Like I said, I expect some of this.”

“If you say so… just don’t expect to see it often,” Glimmer felt a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. Her mom wasn’t exactly the most relaxed person but she understood Glimmer better than probably anybody else on the planet.

“Good,” Angella reached out and tucked one of Glimmer’s fluffy locks behind her ear, “I prefer when you talk to me instead of just hiding away in your room.”

“Yeah,” Glimmer laughed somewhat nervously because she totally didn’t do exactly that most of the time instead of talking to people.

“So… you want to tell me about that girl now?”

Glimmer tucked herself next to Angella’s side and turned to face the TV where Gordon Ramsey was berating a man for having rats in his kitchen, “No, not yet.”

She felt her mother shrug and smiled as Angella wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Drama could wait. And if she loved Adora? Well, she would deal with that later too.

Quick announcement that I am (FINALLY) starting a taglist for this fic, so if you are interested, please just send an ask or reply to this post <3

#glimadora #glimmadora #glimadora fluff #glimadora angst #glimadora high school au #she ra high school au #glimadora fic #glimadora fanfic #glimadora fanfiction #adora x glimmer #glimmer x adora #she ra #spop #spop high school au #spop adora #spop glimmer #she ra fanfic #spop fanfic #starlight writes

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