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mikauzoran · 4 years

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Marichat/Adrienette: The Rejects Club: Chapter Twenty-Six: Embrace

The Rejects Club: Chapter Twenty-Six: Embrace

(One day, I need to go back and make sure all of these chapters are on here because they definitely aren’t at present. -.-;)

“Does Plagg have unsupervised access to the internet?” Marinette texts Chat as they sit in homeroom, waiting for classes to start for the day.

Adrien blinks down at his screen. “I let him use the computer while I do homework or practice piano or whatever. This sounds ominous. Why do you ask?”

Marinette replies with a link which he forwards to Adrien’s phone before he can open it.

He is not expecting a Princess Noir comic. He’s not expecting to get sucked into a fictionalized version of his life where Marinette—or “Adrienne”, rather—is in love with him and he loves her and things are so obviously going to work out after a few trials and some tribulations.

He only remembers that Marinette is probably waiting for a response after he’s read the first scene—the balcony scene where Chat Noir saves Adrienne from being akumatized after her boyfriend breaks up with her.

He switches back to Chat’s flip phone where a string of texts from Marinette is waiting for him: “Do you think Plagg would do this?” “It’s pretty obvious that the creator was present to hear our actual dialogue.” “I mean, some things have obviously been changed to protect our privacy,” “but sometimes APlaggOnBothYourHouses lifts direct quotations from our conversations.”

“Yep. This looks like Plagg’s drawing style,” Adrien types back.

No wonder Plagg could doodle that chaise sketch of Marinette so quickly. He had had plenty of practice drawing Princess.

“I’ll have him take it down” After Adrien binge-reads the entire thing and saves the files for personal viewing. “and talk to him about acceptable usage of the internet. I’m so sorry, Princess.”

Marinette deliberates for a minute before she answers, “He doesn’t have to take it down.” “I’ve only read bits and pieces,” “but it doesn’t look like there’s anything too objectionable in it.” “You’ll notice that while Princess is an exact representation, Adrienne doesn’t look much like me.” “I’m sure it’s the same for you and Marin.” “Alya is obsessed with this,” “and I’d think my best friend would be the first to accost me” “if there was anything in there that outted me.” “If you don’t mind this being out there, I’m okay with it.”

Internally, Adrien does his victory dance. He will still be giving give his kwami the scolding of a lifetime, but he’ll let the artist continue. Maybe it will give Adrien some idea of what to do. Maybe he can plagiarize some of Marin’s best lines because, just going by the first scene, there are a lot of them in there that Chat has never actually used.

“Okay. I’ll monitor him. If you’d like, you can review the existing content and let me know if there’s anything you want him to cut out,” he offers judiciously.

“That’s okay.” Marinette knows better than to let herself get caught up in a romcom of her life. “I’ve already lived it.” “I don’t need to read it.” “Some ground rules:” “No explicit sex scenes or sex acts.” “Sex can be implied, but not depicted.”

Adrien nearly drops the phone as his brain plummets into the gutter.

“No nudity.” “Drawing me in a bra or swimsuit is fine,” “but I demand my breasts remain covered and my pants stay on.”

Adrien really wishes she would stop giving him ideas when he’s trapped in a classroom and going to have to focus on school in less than ten minutes.

“Don’t give away my true identity.” “That’s it for now.” “I’ll let you know if I come up with anything else.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know,” Adrien replies simply, trying to get himself to breathe regularly and not think about anything Marinette just typed.

“You okay, Mec?” Nino whispers from beside him. “Your face looks like a cherry.”

Adrien puts his phone away and groans softly. “I’ll be fine once I’m distracted. Secret Girlfriend has been unintentionally yanking my chain this morning.”

Nino’s concerned frown intensifies. “What’d she say?”

Adrien shakes his head, hiding his face in his hands. “She didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, but she was talking about…sex involving the two of us.”

Suddenly a thought occurs to Adrien, and he lowers his hands with a smack against the top of the desk, whipping his head around to give Nino a warning glare. “I’m swearing you to secrecy on this, by the way. Tell Alya that I have a secret girlfriend, and…” He lets the threat hang between them, unfinished. “I don’t want this getting back to Marinette. I will be livid, Nino.”

Nino nods, suitably cowed. “My lips are sealed, but…Adrien…are you sleeping with this girl?”

Adrien nearly chokes on air, and his face lights up red like a Chinese lantern once more. “N-No! I’ve…” He lowers his voice. “…never slept with anyone. She’s just…we’re not even together.”

Nino nods slowly. “So you’re not cheating on her by pursuing Marinette?”

Adrien shakes his head emphatically. “I would never cheat. Especially not on Marinette.”

Nino continues to nod. “Well. I’m seriously confused. Shall we drop this?”

Adrien sighs and agrees. “Probably for the best. It’s too complicated to explain.”

“So long as Marinette doesn’t find out and think you’re playing with her,” Nino warns.

Adrien gulps. He could explain his “secret girlfriend” away simply by showing her the texts, but that’s not the way he wants the reveal to go.

He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, but then he remembers the gel.

Roll call is well underway when an announcement comes over the PA system: “Adrien Agreste. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Please report to the principal’s office.”

Adrien looks up from Scene Two of Plagg’s Princess Noir comic and blinks in owl-eyed surprise.

The message repeats, and he can hear Marinette groan behind him.

“I’ve been here less than an hour, and I haven’t even done anything yet today,” Marinette grumbles as Adrien opens the door for her. “Thank you.”

They step into the hall, beginning their trek, and it abruptly hits her.

“Unless Chloé lodged a complaint about me physically assaulting you in the locker room this morning. Shoot.”

“Chloé wouldn’t do that,” Adrien protests. “She knows how I—uh…”

What? “feel about you”?

“Adrien, I know you two are old buddies, but that is exactly the kind of thing that Chloé would do. Getting other people akumatized, in trouble, and/or blamed for something that’s her fault are her specialties, and she kind of hates my guts,” Marinette patiently explains over her shoulder. “This reeks of Chloé.”

“Then why was I summoned?” Adrien wonders.

“To testify against me,” Marinette answers with a nod of certainty. “So, you do realize this is every man for himself, right? I’m totally throwing you under the bus and saying that you started it. Who would believe that you’re the victim here? You’ve got a full head on me and at least fifteen kilos.”

Her tone is light, and he can’t tell if she’s joking. It doesn’t sound like something Marinette would do, though, even if she were cross with him.

“But I did start it,” Adrien replies, confused as to why there’s any doubt surrounding the chain of events.

Marinette stops and turns to arch an eyebrow at him. “I kicked you in the shin and shoved you.”

He shrugs and keeps walking. “I was sexually harassing you. You acted in self-defence.”

“How was any of that sexual harassment?” Marinette scoffs, hurrying to catch up.

“What? You mean the way I kissed your wrist and your hair? Blatantly flirted with you? Called you pet names even after you told me to stop?” Adrien recounts miserably, revisiting all the ways he has messed up.

“Well, I was harassing you too, then,” Marinette argues, determined to take the blame. “I called you Minou and scratched behind your ear and rang your bell.”

“Princess—Sorry. Marinette,” he corrects. “I liked all those things. It’s different if the person you’re doing things to consents. As it stands, you’re only guilty of bruising my fragile feelings.”

“And your shin,” she adds woefully. “Is it starting to bruise? Does it hurt? I’m really sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

“My shin is fine,” he lies. It’s still painfully throbbing. “You didn’t get me that hard. There’s not a mark on me.”

She comes to a halt in front of him. “Prove it,” she challenges. “Lift up your pant leg.”

He complies, lifting the right leg to reveal a spotless shin. “See?”

“I kicked your left shin. What? You thought I wouldn’t notice?” she inquires wryly.

“No, it was definitely the right one.” He sticks to his guns, hoping he can bluff his way out of this.

“I may be slightly ambidextrous with my hands, but I’m definitely right-footed. I kicked your left shin. If there’s nothing there, it won’t do any harm to show me that one also, right?” She corners him.

He hesitates.

“Don’t make me pull up your pant leg myself. I don’t want to assault you any more than I already have today,” Marinette coaxes.

With a sigh, Adrien lifts the other pant leg and observes with her the beginnings of a bruise.

“…That’s from basketball the other day,” he insists, voice level and impassive.

She shakes her head and whispers, “Sorry” once more for good measure. “Adrien, if someone ever hurts you, don’t hide it. Tell someone, and tell them the truth, okay?”

“I would,” he assures, resuming their walk and picking up the pace. He most likely wouldn’t. “but this kind of thing doesn’t really happen anymore.”

She gives a start. “Anymore? Someone’s hurt you before?”

“No,” he answers firmly. “It’s not like that. I’ve never been abused. I just meant…sometimes my mother had one of her meltdowns and slapped me—not hard,” he hurriedly amends. “Not hard enough to leave a mark, and she was always sorry for it afterwards. I was a complete brat anyway. I pushed her until she went over the edge sometimes; it’s not like it was unprovoked…. That’s all that I meant. No one’s hit me since my mother went missing, so…it’s not an issue. Father would never hit me. I heard from my mother that his father used to hit him, so…so my father would never hit me.”

Marinette doesn’t know what to say. It reminds her of Chat, and she never knows what to say to Chat either. She settles on a comforting sigh of, “Oh, Adrien.”

“It’s not like that,” Adrien reiterates softly. “I’ve been modeling since I was two. Someone would have noticed if I had marks on me often. It wasn’t like that.”

Marinette relents, unable to say for sure what it was or was not like without further evidence. “Okay,” she agrees. “But if someone does ever hurt you, that’s not something you hide and forgive and cover up for them, even if you do love them and want to protect them. You need to say something.”

Adrien stops dead as Marinette’s words strike a chord she hadn’t been aiming for, hadn’t even known existed.

“Adrien?” she calls, expression slowly twisting into a deep frown of concern at his sudden pallor and the horror evident on his face.

“Marinette, what would you do if someone you loved was doing something bad?” he wonders quietly.

“Talk to them about it and see if I could get them to stop,” she replies without thinking too hard. “Do they know they’re doing something bad?”

“I don’t know if they see it as bad. I don’t know if they understand the impact of their actions on others,” he mumbles, starting to walk again. “…I don’t know if I can ask him.”

“…Is your father hurting anyone?” she carefully begins to pry.

Adrien considers for a moment, even though he knows the answer is yes—mentally, if not physically. He knows many a Parisian has been scarred by Papillon mentally, even if Ladybug fixes all the physical damage.

“No,” Adrien lies. “He’s not physically harming anyone, no. Just…honestly, it’s not much different than his usual verbal abuse and emotionally traumatizing people,” he reasons.

A thought occurs to him, causing him to stop and catch her by the wrist. “Marinette, never work for my father, okay? I have contacts at other houses; we can get you an interview anywhere else you want, but don’t apply at Gabriel, okay?”

She nods, obviously taken aback by the intensity of his words.

He nods in return, satisfied, and lets go, moving forward once more. “I’ll…try to talk to him.” There has to be some way to get Gabriel to realize the magnitude of what he’s doing.

“But what do I do if he doesn’t stop?” Adrien wonders, terror-stricken at the thought.

“Is this something the police should know about, or something more benign?” Marinette holds her breath.

“Something he should probably be in jail for,” Adrien whispers, trying again and again failing to wrap his mind around the thoughts, “Your father should be in jail”; “Your father is a criminal”; “Your father hurts people”; “You’re not stopping him”; “You’re just as bad”.

“Is it unforgivable of me to keep quiet about something like this? I feel like…maybe I’m just as guilty as he is for letting this go on,” he adds in a small voice, letting her see a tiny piece of his shame.

He doesn’t know how he’s actually going to tell her. “Will you marry me? By the way, your future father-in-law is Papillon. Hope you don’t mind” does not sound like a wise idea.

Marinette hesitates. It takes her the entire length of his speech plus an additional few seconds to gather courage enough to slip her hand into his and squeeze. She doesn’t allow herself to think about how this is her crush she’s touching. She forces herself to remember, “This is your friend, and he’s in pain right now”.

“Don’t let your father’s wrongs weigh on your conscience, Adrien. If he gets caught, cooperate. Until then, talk to him and do your best to get him to stop and make reparations on his own where possible. I don’t know what your father has done, and I don’t need to know, but you are not your father, and what he’s doing is not your fault.”

Adrien sighs deeply, tightening his grip on her hand as if she’s tethering him to sanity. He realizes that his grip is perhaps a bit too hard and forces his hold to relax a bit. “You know, I’m really relieved that you didn’t yell at me,” he whispers.

“Why would I?” she asks, baffled and wondering where this is coming from. Where any of this is coming from.

“I’m a selfish coward. I’ve been dithering over this for a long time; this isn’t recent,” he laughs darkly.

She increases the pressure of her squeeze. “…I don’t think I’d be able to turn my parents in to the police,” she offers.

He shakes his head. “You would find the strength to do the right thing. You’re like Ladybug. You would sacrifice your comfort and happiness for others. You would do the right thing.”

“It’s not just comfort and happiness.” she remarks. “It’s your family.” She knows how important that is to him. She knows some of the personal injustices that Adrien has forgiven his father for over the years out of love and desperation not to let what little remains of his family fracture further.

“Try not to let it weigh on you,” she urges. “Talk to him the next chance you get. He loves you, Adrien. I’ve seen evidence of how much he loves you. If anyone can convince him to stop, it’s you.”

A fragile smile begins to form on Adrien’s lips as he gives in and lets her reassurances wash over him. He knows her answers would probably be different if he came out and said, “My father is Papillon”, but, for now, he lets himself enjoy the simple pleasure of feeling her skin against his, no leather suit between them.

His thumb traces lazy circles on her palm, and he slows their pace, greedy for more time in this moment.

They’re alone in the hall, holding hands as they walk, and he can almost imagine a future where she knows everything and chooses him anyway.

“I love…your friendship.”

He can feel her give a start through their joined hands.

“You’re really amazing, and I’m glad to have you in my life.” He says what he wants to say without really saying what he means. “Thank you, Marinette.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” she manages to reply. It strikes her how not over him she is. His words make her insides melt. “Anytime,” she adds breathily as every swirl of his thumb over her flesh makes her stomach flutter.

She briefly remembers Chat and feels a twinge of guilt, but it doesn’t last long because Adrien turns and smiles at her vaguely reminiscent of the way Chat looks at Ladybug.

“I mean it,” he stresses. “You’re extraordinary, and I’m a blind fool for not realizing the extent of how magnificent you are before.”

He brings their joined hands up to his lips and sends one of Chat’s smiles her way.

She gulps as he lets go and pushes open the door to the principal’s office.

“Ah, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Monsieur Agreste,” Principal Damocles greets in a too civil tone that indicates storm clouds on the horizon. “Come in.”

“Monsieur Damocles, if this is about what happened in the locker room this morning, I can explain,” Adrien leads in while Marinette is still off balance. “It’s all my fault.”

Principal Damocles arches a bushy eyebrow and inquires, “What happened in the locker room this morning?”

Adrien blinks. “Nothing. Why do you ask?” he questions in a perfect counterfeit of confusion, as if he himself were not the one to introduce the topic in the first place.

Principal Damocles gives Adrien an odd look but clears his throat and then presses forward with the speech he had originally intended to give. “I’ve summoned you both to my office this morning because Madame Mendeleiev has complained to me about you two disrupting class yesterday afternoon.”

Marinette and Adrien wince in tandem.

“Passing notes, having side discussions, texting each other,” Damocles enumerates, ticking the offenses off on his fingers.

Marinette frowns. She knows the identity of her texting partner, but whom was Adrien talking to?

“Running out of class faking a medical emergency to play hooky together,” Damocles continues sternly. “I have to say we are quite disappointed in you two, and we cannot allow this to continue. Miss Dupain-Cheng, you are class representative and should be setting the example for your peers.”

Marinette flinches at the accusation, feeling the words heavily upon her shoulders.

“Monsieur Agreste, we’ve come to expect better from you. I’m sure your father will be disappointed as well.”

Adrien bites the inside of his cheek to control the involuntary grimace threatening to materialize.

“What do you two have to say for yourselves?” the principal intones imperiously.

“I’m really sorry, Sir,” Marinette mumbles, scuffing at the floor with her toe, eyes downcast.

Adrien steps forward in front of Marinette, as if to defend her. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Damocles. This is all a misunderstanding, and it’s entirely my fault. You shouldn’t punish Marinette; she’s the victim in this.”

Marinette’s head snaps up, and she looks at him incredulously. “What?”

Damocles frowns, severe eyebrows folding together. “How so, Monsieur Agreste? Please continue.”

Adrien takes another step towards the principal’s desk wearing a contrite and pained expression of acute embarrassment. “Last week,” he begins. “Monday evening, I told Marinette how I felt about her and asked her to go out with me.”

Marinette’s eyes go wide, and she nearly falls over. She finds herself once again wondering what alternate universe she’s temporarily slipped into.

Principal Damocles leans forward ever so slightly in interest and nods for Adrien to keep going.

Adrien grimaces, averting his eyes and rubbing at the back of his neck. He drops his voice into a disheartened mumble. “Only…she said no because there’s already someone else that she likes.” He doesn’t have to feign the hurt undercurrent to his lines. He knows exactly what it’s like to be passed by for someone else courtesy of Ladybug.

Damocles frowns sympathetically.

Tentatively, Adrien peeks up, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself. “Unfortunately, I’m having a hard time taking no for an answer. You know what spoiled rich brats are like, Monsieur Damocles; you’ve been dealing with Chloé for years now.”

The principal nods, a sour, knowing look making its way to his face at the thought.

“And while I try to do a better job than she does,” Adrien explains, “I still have entitlement issues. I struggle with the concept of not being able to have what I want, so I’m afraid that I’ve been driving Marinette up the wall all week, trying to get her to change her mind.”

Adrien is quiet for a moment before he lets out an enormous sigh. “I’m sorry.” He looks back at Marinette and repeats the words, softer and more like a caress. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to like me the way that I like you…but I guess hounding you like a fox isn’t going to accomplish that, is it?”

He turns back to Damocles and resumes his narrative. “Yesterday I was being particularly persistent. The reason she ran out of class was because I upset her so much she physically had to get away from me. Please don’t punish her, Monsieur Damocles. I’m the one in the wrong, and I’m really sorry.”

He looks at Marinette once more, and he doesn’t have to fake the regret in his eyes and on his face. “I’m sorry for Monday.”

Her eyes fly wide.

He knows.

Her lips tremble as she opens them to speak, to tell him, no, she is the one who is sorry for Monday. He didn’t do anything wrong. She’s the one who’s wronged him.

The words don’t come. All she can do is shake her head and start to tear up.

She might not know this boy like she thought she did, but, in moments like this, she knows she was right to love him. He may not be the person she put on a pedestal and worshipped for four years, but he is definitely someone she could well and truly love.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Marinette, and I’m sorry for all the times I made you cry. You’re really important to me, so I hope we can find some way to repair our friendship.” He gives her a small, nervous smile as if unsure if his next step will find solid ground or thin air.

“Oh, Adrien,” she chokes, nodding emphatically. “I��m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’ve been such a jerk to you, and then you go and do something like this, and…I don’t know how I’m ever going to apologize enough.”

He shrugs and gives her a patented Adrien Agreste wink. “It’s okay. We’ll settle later. For now, I’m just grateful that you’re talking to me in full and complete sentences.”

Marinette is tempted to smack herself in the face and hide behind her palms. It doesn’t take much tempting before she gives in and does so. “On Saturday, you implied it was cute when I stuttered,” she grumbles from behind her protective shield.

Adrien snickers, letting a little Chat slip into his voice. “Yeah, but it’s sexy when you look me in the eye, shove me, and verbally tear me to pieces. I like that razor-sharp tongue of yours.”

Marinette makes a high-pitched noise of abject distress and is only kept vertical by how rigid her body has become.

Adrien winces. “Sorry. I’m still coming on too strong, aren’t I?” He turns penitently to Principal Damocles. “I’m sorry. You see what she’s been dealing with all week? You can’t punish her. I’m going to try to get my act together and stop harassing her, but if you feel the need to give me detention or have a parent teacher conference with my father’s secretary, I more than deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” Marinette interjects, finally finding her footing. “Monsieur Damocles, this isn’t Adrien’s fault; it’s mine.”

Adrien turns to Marinette so that his back is to Damocles and the principal can’t see his face. He puts a finger over his lips, silently urging her not to throw away the cover story he has constructed for her.

“Marinette, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but you don’t have to lie to protect me,” he gently informs.

“B-But…” Isn’t that what you’re doing for me? “He doesn’t even know why I ran out of class, does he? And he’s still…”

Later, she will site this as the moment she fell in love with Adrien Agreste the second time.

“All right,” Principal Damocles sighs, having seen enough. “You two may go back to class. Monsieur Agreste, consider this your warning. Don’t let this happen again. Miss Dupain-Cheng, if you continue to experience problems with Monsieur Agreste, I expect to be informed.”

“Yes, Monsieur Damocles,” they reply out of sync.

Adrien opens the door for Marinette, and they slip out into the hallway, Marinette collapsing back against the wall with a pronounced sigh.

“I didn’t mean for you to throw yourself under the bus,” she scolds. “Adrien, I was kidding.”

Adrien shrugs offhandedly. “It was a choice between both of us getting in trouble or just me getting in trouble. The correct answer was obvious. Besides, I’d say things worked out pretty well.”

She frowns, slowly taking him in in his black jeans, lime green t-shirt, and black leather jacket. He looks good in Chat’s colors, and she’s forced to admit that she’s still interested, despite her growing feelings for Chat.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for doing that. It’s more kindness than I’ve earned.”

He rolls his eyes. “You need to stop beating yourself up. I don’t know what you and Chat were talking about yesterday, but it’s none of Monsieur Damocles’s business. I’m okay with him thinking that I was the one texting you who upset you. I don’t care if he thinks I’m a selfish prick, so long as you know the truth.” He gives her a smile fit to electrocute.

She has to wonder, “Who were you texting yesterday?”

Adrien’s brain freezes for a second. It recovers, and he smiles easily. “Chloé.”

“Oh.” Marinette nods. That’s an acceptable answer. “Well…thank you…Minou,” she tacks on as a reward and smiles when it makes him light up.

She reaches out and gives the bell on the choker around his neck a tentative tap. “You’re awesome, Minou.”

Every nerve in Adrien’s body is singing at the sinful things she’s doing to him. In his head, he chants, “Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her.”

All without breaking eye contact, he takes her hand and gives the side of her index finger a kiss that involves the slightest brush of teeth.

Marinette’s breath hitches. She may have found some of his buttons (touching the bell and calling him “Minou” are obviously turn-ons), but he’s got his fingers on her triggers too.

“You’re very welcome,” he purrs, nuzzling her hand.

Both Chat and Adrien seem to have a thing about her hands.

“I’d fall on the sword for you anytime…Princess,” he whispers the last word, kissing her hand deferentially and dipping into one of Chat’s bows.

Her breath catches in her throat as she sees double.

Twins. They have to be. How else could two people be more alike? But she’s already chased her tail concerning this theory. As much as it must be true, it every bit as much can’t be true.

Adrien straightens up and gives a look of concern at her silence. He lets go of her hand. “Marinette? I-I’m sorry. That was crossing a line, wasn’t it?” he sputters, once again afraid that he’s ruined everything. “I—”

“—N-No,” she quickly assures, shaking her head and scattering the tears that have begun to fall in the process.

One lands on the back of his hand.

“You’re fine. You’re wonderful, Adrien. I just…”

…am feeling confused and overwhelmed and pulled in two directions.

“You’re both so good and sweet and forgiving…” she mumbles.

She shakes her head again. She shouldn’t be around him. He’s pulling her back in. It would be so easy to fall into his arms now that he’s finally interested, but…that would hurt Chat. Again…. Still. It would finally prove to her without a doubt that Marinette is still Ladybug, even without the suit…in the worst way possible. She needs to get away from Adrien and stay away for her own sake as much as for Chat’s.

“Sorry,” she hiccups. “Excuse me. I have to—”

She begins to make a dash for it, but she only gets two or three meters before she remembers the previous morning: the devastated, lonely, hurt look on Adrien’s face when she started to run away. The expression of misery that made her invite him on a picnic with their friends.

She turns back and catches the same pain and disappointment and confusion before he can hide it.

She’s hurting him. He’s done nothing wrong, and she’s torturing him for it. This has to stop. Even if it’s difficult, she has to suck it up and be there for both of her boys.

Marinette takes a deep breath and goes back to leaning up against the wall in front of him, even as her tears continue to fall.

Adrien quirks an eyebrow, looking like he wants to say something but is unsure what the correct thing is.

“I’m tired of running away,” she explains simply. “I’m tired of being a coward and freaking out and causing drama for myself and others. Is this okay? I know I’m probably making you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry about that. I’m trying to stop, but…” She shrugs helplessly. “Is this okay, or would you rather I go?”

“Stay,” he entreats. “I mean…Does it make you uncomfortable to have me looking at you while you’re crying?”

She shrugs again, wiping at her face with both hands. “I don’t care. I’m beyond caring right now. I’m sure it’s not very attractive, but I’m kind of over it.”

Adrien squashes the kneejerk reaction to tell her she’s always attractive. Somehow, he doesn’t think it will help. Chat is tempted to tell her how beautiful she looked in the moonlight last Monday with her hair blowing free and the tear tracks still fresh on her face.

“Not appropriate, Agreste.”

“I mean,” Marinette chuckles darkly, “you might as well get to see a glimpse of my ugly side.”

“I won’t hold it against you,” he assures. “I’m an ugly crier myself.”

She blinks in surprise. “You cry?”

“…All the time?” he laughs ironically, half-heartedly trying to play it off as a joke. “But don’t tell my father; I’m not allowed to have emotions.”

Her clear blue eyes pierce through him. “Oh, Adrien.”

“That…was supposed to sound more like I was joking,” he insists before she can get the wrong idea. “I’m allowed to have emotions.” So long as they’re ones Gabriel approves of. For everything else, there’s the privacy of his bedroom.

“Adrien,” she whispers, giving the bell another tap.

He’s made her feel sorry for him. Again. And the tears are still marching down her cheeks unchecked.

“I don’t suppose you would laugh if I told you how pretty your hair is, would you?” he tries. “Does that only work with Chat?”

She smiles sadly and nods.

“How about if you try imagining Chat naked? Wasn’t that one of the other things?” He’s getting desperate.

Surprisingly, Marinette’s cheeks flush a vibrant floral color. She looks down at her feet and starts spluttering. “T-T-That! That doesn’t work—um…” She gulps, getting her freak out under control. “That doesn’t work the way it used to. It’s not a funny image anymore.”

“Oh,” he sighs in disappointment and almost asks why not before it hits him. “Oh!” he yelps, his own cheeks lighting up. “S-Sorry. Right. That… Forget I brought it up.”

She smiles in embarrassment, fiddling with the lace bracelet on her wrist as she keeps her eyes trained anywhere but on him.

Adrien curses mildly under his breath.

Marinette looks up, startled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.”

He shrugs. “I typically don’t, but this kind of feels like an appropriate situation. I suck at this. I’m bad at cheering people up, and I feel like it’s my fault that you’re crying, so I want to do something to make it better, but I’ve been failing miserably all week, so…Yeah. I feel like cursing is called for in this moment.”

There’s pity in her gaze as the tears keep falling. “Oh, Minou,” she coos. “You’re not failing.”

He wants to argue with her and recount all the times he’s actually made her cry this week while attempting to show his support and cheer her up. More than that, though, he wants to hug her. He loves her for fibbing like that in an attempt to make him feel better. It’s working for her.

An idea strikes, sparked by a memory of her kitchen last Monday night. He has one last card to play: “Would you like a hug?” he offers. “Would a hug help? Hugs do make people feel better when they’re upset, right?”

Marinette bites her lip, appearing unsure.

Mentally, Adrien curses again, looking down at his feet and feeling lousy.

She registers his expression for what it is and relents.

Perhaps she has no business hugging Adrien Agreste; perhaps she really does need to get the heck away from him for her own sanity, but she recognizes that her boy needs her right now.

“Would you like a hug, Adrien?” her smile is pure affection as she opens her arms to him.

“God, yes,” he whispers, hesitantly stepping forward.

It’s so automatic for Chat and Marinette to embrace, but Adrien and Marinette is an awkward dance of timidity.

He wants to grab her and pull her in, but he doesn’t want to seem desperate or make her uncomfortable.

She is busy trying to squelch an internal freak out about finally hugging her crush while simultaneously wondering where she should put her hands.

Somehow, they meet in the middle, and once their arms are actually around each other, both parties relax, surprised at how easily their body conforms to the other’s. Marinette naturally places her head on his chest, snuggling into the crook of his neck, and he gently rests his cheek on top, careful not to mess up her hair.

Instantly, the world feels like a more hopeful place because Marinette is in Adrien’s arms without the gloves and protective suit getting in the way. It’s so much easier to feel her through regular clothing, even though he is still wearing a leather jacket. She’s warm and soft, and she smells fantastic. The scent isn’t as acute to his normal human nose, but with said nose in her hair, it’s fairly pronounced, and Adrien is sure he could drown in it happily.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pieces of her hair sticking to his lips.

He can feel cold tears on his neck, but they seem to be falling more slowly now.

“Thank you,” she returns. “For trying so hard to make me feel better. Not just now, but all week. I know I burst into tears pretty much every single time, but I did appreciate your kindness.”

“I am never going to get over this boy. I’m going to break Chat’s heart all over again. I’m going to end up like one of those two-timing witches in the dramas.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien mumbles, giving her hair a reassuring nuzzle. “I have to admit, I feel better now that I know why, though.”

Marinette tenses. “Chat told you?”

Adrien mentally kicks himself. “Stop getting drunk on her scent and pay attention, Idiot. You’re two separate people to her, so keep what each one knows straight already.”

“Not everything,” he hedges. “Apparently I look like your crush…and then there’s the Monday thing.”

Marinette shifts uneasily.

“I’m sorry. If I had realized that what I said would get back to you, I—”

“—Stop,” Marinette’s words are almost inaudible, but he can feel her lips moving against his throat. Her left hand tightens, grasping the fabric of his mother’s jacket’s collar. “Don’t apologize for Monday ever again, okay? You were set up. I should be apologizing to you.”

“But…” He wants to argue even though he knows how pointless it is. “I feel bad for making a day that already sucked even worse for you.”

She shakes her head to the best of her ability. “I’ve made the intervening week between then and now hell for you.”

And heaven, he mentally adds.

“Not that I’m narcissistic enough to think I have the power to ruin your entire week, but—”

“—You do,” he confesses.

A silent “Oh” hangs in the air.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t be.”

What he doesn’t say is, “I like it. I have a thing about women with the power to ruin me with a word.”

“Adrien, I’m kind of involved with Chat Noir.” She tries to break the news gently, but there’s no other way she can think to say it.

“He told me. You two are just going to be friends for now, but in a month or two, once you’re over your previous crush, you’re going to decide what kind of relationship you two want to have.”

“He tells you a lot of things,” Marinette observes, her heart beating in her throat.

“Do you think I could get a similar deal?”

“W-What?!” she squeaks, pulling back to stare dumbstruck up at him.

His arms keep her more or less in place so that their faces are still less than a foot apart, and he smiles softly, anxiety plainly on display in his eyes.

“We don’t really know each other well, do we?” he observes.

She shakes her head distractedly. His eyes are so pretty close up.

“But we could fix that,” he suggests, tone hopeful.

She makes herself look away and pay attention to what he’s saying. It’s hard when her body feels like pins and needles at every point where it touches his.

“Adrien, I’d like to, but I’m not really at my best right now. I’m sure Chat has told you how messed up I am at the moment. I don’t know if I can… This isn’t fair to-to either of us, and—I really shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be…Chat is such a great guy, and I can’t…” She bites her lip as she trails off. She meets his gaze with a lost look.

How is she supposed to tell him she needs to stop being in love with him? How does she explain the need to separate the real him from the one she’s constructed in her head before she can even flirt with the idea of dating him? How does she tell Chat about her feelings for Adrien? How does she tell Adrien no because it’s Chat’s turn to be loved and adored like he deserves now?

“You deserve better than this, than me,” Marinette whispers.

He opens his mouth to protest, but she covers his lips with her fingers.

“You both do. I’m sorry,” she chuckles ironically. “What a mess.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he mumbles against her fingers and gives them a little kiss. “Chat told me you’re not dating anyone right now. I’m not asking you out, Marinette. Not yet. But…will you be my friend for a month or two and then make that decision? I mean…I’d like to date you, but only if you want. If you decide you just want to be friends, fine. I’ll find some way to be okay with that. Just…be my friend and think about it? I’m not trying to pressure you or anything; I’m just putting my name in the hat. Okay?”

She bites her lip, knowing it’s in her best interest to say no but, at the same time, seeing how badly he wants this. It’s hard to deny him, long-term object of her affections.

“Please?” he urges, beginning to fidget. “I really like you, and I know you’re not indifferent to me.”

“Did Chat tell you that?” Marinette grumbles through gritted teeth. She makes a mental note never to tell the chatterbox anything she doesn’t want Adrien to know ever again.

“You showed me that,” he corrects. “Saturday, when you were flirting with me. You wouldn’t have done that just to get information on Chat out of me. A part of you must be attracted to me on some level…at least…that’s what I’m banking on.”

She returns his sheepish smile with one of her own. “Guilty,” she whispers, her eyes tracking his tongue as it moistens his lips. “I’m not indifferent to you, Adrien Agreste, but I have to wonder when exactly you changed your mind about me. Didn’t you say last Monday that you had never thought about me romantically before? And I don’t think I’ve done much to improve your opinion of me between now and then.”

Adrien winces, averting his eyes and readjusting his arms around her. “Chat has told you about how messed up his life is, right?”

She makes a soft sound of agreement.

“Mine is too,” he mumbles. “It makes you really, really good at compartmentalizing. An example: ‘my father does bad things’ and ‘I love my father’ go in separate drawers, one of which I keep shoved in the very back of my mental closet behind all the Hanon I’ve ever had to play.”

His eyes meet hers once more, and he reaches up to wipe away the last of the tears. “‘Marinette is just a friend’ and ‘Marinette has eyes I could fall into and gladly drown in’ go in separate drawers. Just because I’ve never allowed myself to think about you like that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a mental drawer full of how bright your smile is, how musical your laughter, how amazing you look in your Princess dress, how kind and just and brave you are…”

He smiles bashfully, encouraged by the look of awe on her face but still embarrassed without the mask to hide behind. “This isn’t really as sudden as it seems. I’ve noticed you this whole time…I was just in love with someone else already, so I didn’t allow myself to think about the things I’d noticed. I’m serious when I fall in love. It’s all-consuming, so I only have room for one girl in my heart at a time. I’m sorry it wasn’t you first.”

She internally melts. If she weren’t already in his arms, she’d be falling in now. Mentally, she slaps herself. This is a trap. He’s sucking you in, making you forget about Chat.

“So…you’re finally giving up on Ladybug?” she inquires in a small voice.

His smile turns pained. “Yeah. I mean, if Chat can’t win her over, what hope do I realistically have? I was kidding myself this whole time. It’s not like a superhero and a civilian can have a successful relationship.”

Marinette goes rigid once more, and he’s surprised to find her glaring at him.

“W-What?”

“Maybe not you and Ladybug, but Chat and I can,” she snorts. “After all, Chat and I have actually spent more than five minutes together when he wasn’t just rescuing me. We have an actual foundation for a relationship.”

Adrien winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t talking about you and Chat. You and Chat will be fine, provided you don’t dump him the second you find out his identity.”

“I’m going to love him no matter who he turns out to be,” she growls defensively.

“Even if it’s me?” Adrien wonders.

She stares at him intently for a minute, a jumbled ball of emotions rolling across her face: anger, confusion, frustration, pity…

He’s expecting her to slap him or at least pull out of his arms and away from him, so he’s taken aback and stunned speechless when she leans in and places a solid kiss to his cheek.

“Even if it’s you, you idiot,” she snaps. “Now shut the hell up before I kick your other shin. Oh—!”

He knocks the wind out of her when he pulls her back in for a crushing hug. “It wasn’t just a celebrity crush, you know,” he whispers against the shell of her ear. “I’m not just being ridiculous. I need you to know that my feelings are worth something. The Ladybug I fell in love with isn’t the one on TV always saving the day. Not the perfect image she projects for the public. I know what it’s like to be loved like that; that’s how people love me, and I would never do that to her. The Ladybug I loved was Chat’s Ladybug: the clumsy, cocky, insecure, just-trying-her-best Ladybug whom I got to know through Chat. Ladybug and Adrien Agreste might not have spent much time together, but that doesn’t mean what I felt for her was invalid. I really did love her this whole time. Even though I’m letting go of that love, it was still real,” he insists with an intensity and desperation that get across what Ladybug meant to him…and how important it is to him for Marinette to understand that.

Marinette lets her eyes slip closed as she gives Adrien a butterfly kiss on the neck. “I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I’ve been really unfair to you.”

He rests his head on top of hers. “I don’t think I’ve been any better.”

“Meh,” she replies noncommittally. “Let’s start over with a clean slate. Let’s be friends.”

“I’d really like that,” he sighs, breathing in the scent of her hair once more.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up for a romantic relationship, though,” she quickly adds. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I’m falling in love with Chat, and if we decide to pursue a relationship, you and I can only be friends. He’s too wonderful a guy to have a cheating girlfriend. If I’m his, I’m his entirely. I don’t want to hurt you, Adrien, but I can’t hurt Chat. Okay?”

“Okay,” Adrien whispers, and it takes all of his acting skills and self-control not to let his excitement show. He wants to pick her up and swing her around and pepper her face with kisses…but that would be entirely inappropriate behavior for Adrien Agreste in this moment.

“Okay,” she sighs, relaxing once more into his embrace. “Good.”

They’re still for a moment, coming down from the emotional discussion and just breathing.

“You smell like Chat,” Marinette murmurs, her lips on his neck feeling like a series of pleasant shocks.

Adrien’s brain shuts down. “Uh…sorry? Is that…a bad thing?”

She knows what he smells like? He thought noting other people’s scents was a Black Cat Miraculous side effect.

“No. Chat smells wonderful,” she hums, somehow not noticing how she’s affecting him. “It’s a delicious smell. Chat’s smell is calming.”

“How do you know what Chat smells like?” he has to ask.

Does Chat smell that strongly? That distinctly? Could it be a clue to his identity that someone other than Marinette could pick up on? Should he be worried about this when a beautiful girl is in his arms telling him he smells good? That is what she’s implying, right? Chat smells good. Adrien smells like Chat. Therefore, the transitive property would say that Adrien smells good.

C (Chat smell) = B (good). C (Chat smell) = A (Adrien smell). Therefore, A (Adrien smell) = B (good). Right?

“Are you really doing this while a pretty girl is hugging you?”

“Of course I know what Chat smells like. I mean, I’ve fallen asleep on top of him twice in the past five days, and—”

She lets out a screech and pulls back, meeting his inquisitive gaze with a look of panic. “—Not like that! We’re not—! It isn’t like that. We haven’t—”

“—Marinette,” he calls, taking her by the arms. “It’s okay. I know. I know it’s not like that.”

She blinks, stunned. “…Well, are you sleeping with him then, since you two are so close that you share that kind of information? It sounds like he tells you everything, including whether or not he’s sleeping with me.”

Adrien grimaces. “Neither of us has ever been in a physical relationship with the other or anyone else, for that matter. Just putting that out there.”

“Well, it’s good to know I have nothing to be jealous of,” Marinette snorts. “…Sorry. I’m a little weirded out by the idea of you and Chat Noir discussing my and Chat Noir’s sex life.”

Adrien’s face glows Santa-suit-red, and he really wishes he could tell her that he and Chat are the same person and have her believe him this time. He’d try explaining it to her again, but he’s pretty sure he’d only get kicked in the other shin for his trouble. She’s not in any condition to listen.

With an enormous sigh, Adrien constructs a passable half-truth. “It’s not just you, Marinette. It’s everything. We talk about everything.”

She pulls a little farther back and studies his face inquisitively.

“We’re both socially inept,” he laments to the floor. “We spent our childhood mostly kept away from people our own age, so now it’s painfully difficult trying to fit in and not say or do anything too weird. We don’t know what we’re doing, and we’re always second-guessing ourselves, so we talk about everything. At the end of the day, we go back over and pick it all apart—everything we said and did, the way people reacted, the things other people said, anything we noticed other people doing that didn’t make sense… We study and analyze and try to figure out what to do going forward. Yesterday we agonized over whether it was a good idea for Chat to talk to you about Félix and what things were like growing up. Today it will probably be an ‘Oh crap!’-fest concerning whether and how to tell the girl you like that your father is a criminal.”

He forces himself to meet her eyes as he apologizes, “We’re sorry. We never meant to betray your trust. It wasn’t intentional, but…there’s just no barrier between the two of us. If there’s something you don’t want one of us to know, you shouldn’t tell the other. Marinette, it’s probably best for everyone if you just start trying to treat us like two halves of the same person…. Okay? Sorry.” He begins to backpedal. “I know lately with Chat and me there’s been a lot to process. We know we’re wearing you out, and we’re sorry. We—”

“—Shh.” Marinette smiles reassuringly as she gently places her fingers over his lips.

She’s never seen Adrien looking so frantic and vulnerable. It’s easy to see how much he wants to make sure she understands. It takes him even farther away from the cool and mature mental image of him that Marinette has been carrying around. It makes him look more like Chat: sensitive, innocently hopeful, and accosted on all sides.

Codependent twins.

She mentally updates her theory.

Marinette gingerly pulls him back into her arms and rests her head on his chest. “It’s okay, Minou.”

One hand reaches up to lightly tap the bell on his choker.

He goes still and relaxes, nuzzling her hair to comfort himself.

“Everything is fine. Chat is fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all going to figure this out together….” She hums thoughtfully. “This is what Chat meant when he said you two were a package deal, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he mutters into her hair. “Buy one, get more than you bargained for.”

She bites her lip, trying to decide how to reply. She can’t say anything to raise his hopes, but, at the same time, she wants to build him up as a friend. “…More isn’t always a bad thing…but let’s just be friends for now, the three of us. This is all too much too fast.”

He makes a lazy noise of agreement, getting comfortable in her embrace.

“…You really needed a hug, didn’t you?” she notes gently, careful so that he knows she’s not judging.

“Do you mind?” he wonders. “You said all Chat had to do was ask, but what about Adrien?”

Marinette’s mind screams that this is a bad idea. She was all set to give up on him, but now he’s drawing her back in.

“Feel free to ask, but know that there are times when I’ll say no,” she cautions.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, accepting the boundaries she chooses to set.

They hold each other loosely in silence for a minute or so before Marinette sighs, “God. What is that that makes you two smell so fantastic? Is that shampoo? Aftershave? This is going to drive me nuts.”

Adrien bites his cheek trying not to crack up. She’s like a frustrated hunting dog who has lost her quarry. “What does it smell like?”

“Something sweet—not baked goods, though. More like chocolate, but then it’s kind of herbal and minty with a touch of floral,” she reports, taking experimental sniffs of his hair, his neck, his chest.

“Oh.” He blushes, trying not to react. “That would be Bvlgari Blv. I have the shampoo and the shower gel.”

She nods slowly. “I’ve heard of Bulgari before. Didn’t you do an add for…watches, I wanna say?”

He blinks. “Uuumm…Oh! Yes. It was a couple years ago.” His brow creases. “You have a really good memory.”

She shrugs, pointedly looking away. “You forget I’m a fangirl,” she mutters wryly and then attempts to steer the conversation away. “Is the shower gel and the shampoo expensive?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

Marinette overexaggerates an eyeroll. “Would it be expensive for me?” she clarifies. “Does it cost more than…say…fifteen euros for a bottle?”

He winces. “Yes?”

She gives a wistful sigh.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking of picking up a bottle just to keep around the house and sniff from time to time like a stalker,” she confesses, throwing all shame out the window.

Chat knows she’s a weirdo, and he still seems to like her. If Adrien is going to decide that he likes her now, he might was well know the person he’s thinking about pursing.

“You can go ahead and tell him that,” she volunteers. “He’ll probably get a kick out of knowing I like the way he smells.”

She grins, and it makes his stomach flutter.

He suddenly feels less weird for wanting to buy a bottle of her shampoo to keep around the house.

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Adrien chuckles, amused indeed. “Bvlgari Blv does seem to be a popular scent, though. You probably won’t be pleased to hear this, but Chloé likes it too.”

“Does she?” Marinette sniffs indignantly. “Well, at least she has good opinions about at least one thing.”

Adrien shrugs. “She says it’s…” He stops dead as he considers the appropriateness of Chloé’s opinion for the current time and place.

“Orgasmic,” Chloé herself completes as she approaches.

Adrien and Marinette spring apart, flushing furiously.

Chloé raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, Chlo,” Adrien greets with a watery smile.

Chloé shakes her head. “Adri-chou, I thought you only wanted to be friends with her so that you didn’t screw everything up.”

Adrien wilts.

Marinette looks back and forth between the two in curiosity.

“Chloé, Marinette and I were just talking about how we just wanted to be friends,” he informs through gritted teeth, hoping his oldest friend will let it drop.

“I think you’re both confused,” Chloé snorts, but then she sees the pained expression on Adrien’s face and relents. “I’m sure that’s none of my business, though, if you decide you want to seduce her with your shower gel. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go explain to Monsieur Damocles how my Daddy will not look kindly upon the school for unjustly punishing me for a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, Chlo,” Adrien groans, resting his face in his hand. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Chloé gasps, shocked that Adrien would even suggest such a thing. “It was simply a misunderstanding. The misunderstanding wasn’t even my fault…but if you two want to stand out here and make goo-goo eyes at each other, that’s probably not a bad use of time. If you go back to class, you might find Ivan has gotten himself akumatized. It certainly has nothing to do with me, though.”

“Oh, Bee,” Adrien reiterates. “We’ve talked about this.”

Chloé shrugs. “It was a misunderstanding!”

He looks at her with sad eyes, and she caves. “I’ll apologize later,” she mutters.

“Thank you, Chlo.” Adrien gives her a smile and pats her on the back as she passes.

Marinette feels oddly jealous. She’s aware that Chloé is no longer claiming Adrien as her betrothed, but there’s still a strange camaraderie between Adrien and Chloé that bothers Marinette.

Chloé smiles at Adrien and then pauses when her gaze locks with Marinette’s. Chloé cringes slightly at first before she’s able to school her expression into casual distaste. “If my Adri-chou has his heart set on you now, I suppose I’ll have to learn to tolerate you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, I’m going to be your children’s favourite aunt, so we had better start getting along, I guess.”

With a “hmph” of disdain, Chloé flips her ponytail over her shoulder and turns on her heel to complete her march to the principal’s office.

Once she’s gone, Marinette shudders. “I’m pretty sure Alya is going to be my children’s favourite aunt.”

“I’m sure it will be quite the knock-down, drag-out battle,” Adrien sighs, trying not to picture it.

Still shaking her head, Marinette points herself in the direction of class. “I’m heading back.”

“What about the possible akuma?” Adrien worries, not wanting Marinette back in danger.

Marinette smirks. “At least then I’ll be able to see Chat, right?”

“You could just text him,” he sighs, following obediently behind her.

#Marichat #Adrinette #Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Denial #Identity Shenanigans #Flirting #Friendship #Friends to Lovers #Relationship Repair #Misunderstandings #Fluff #Mikau's Writings #The Rejects Club

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marvelheaux · 5 years

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T’challa’s Outside Daughter (Chapter 6)

T’challa x BlackDaughter!Reader/OC

A/N : Hey guys, I’m terribly sorry of this was rushed and thrown together, but life has been kicking my ass as of lately and I was extremely scatterbrained. But anyways, here’s chapter 6, I hope you enjoy! - Lanna

Description : Zyra is the first born of King T’challa. She moved to the states and grew up with her Single mother with hardly any contact with her father. Queen Mother Ramonda decided that with all the drama and secrets going on, that it's time to bring the family together .

Story Links:

Main Character + Faceclaim

Character List

She met one of her father's Exes (oneshot)

TOD Prologue , Chp1 , Chp2 , Chp3 , Chp4 , Chp5

Warnings: Possible Grammar Errors, Angst, Strong Language

Words: 3K

The lab was busy today, as educational material was being deployed from Wakanda, to both the Wakandan Outreach Centre in California and the Wakandan Embassy in New York City, back and forth. Shuri was working with her fellow scientists, approving and testing materials, while Zyra decided to lend a hand in assisting in the Air Traffic Control, while some of the staff was on a lunch break.

Pilot one: "Apron it's Q47-452 ready for pushback"

Zyra: "Q47-452 push at your discretion, call ready for taxi"

Pilot one: "452 roger"

Zyra cracked her knuckles and adjusted her earpiece after giving the pilot traffic orders, whilst making notes of who already taxied and who is about to arrive. As she was going through her checklist, she noticed a different jet configuration from the others that just came in.

“SHIT”. She thought to herself. “When am I ever going to get away from him?”

T’challa, controlling his one-manned jet, coming from a solo mission with the avengers in Switzerland.

T’challa: "Wakanda Molo ngokuhlwa , Q1-1 is out of thirteen six for 1-1 thousand, requesting runway 10."

Zyra: "Q1-1, runway 11, maintain 6 thousand, altimeter 30.05, maintain present heading"

He was slightly taken aback at the rejection of the runway he is accustomed to landing on, which was also reserved for him and the royal family. As he took the coordinates into account, he noticed a strange female voice on the controller, which was unfamiliar because he don't recall a female air traffic controller being on staff.

T’challa: Eh, may I ask who is controlling the air traffic?

Zyra froze. If she can run away from the air defence command booth, she would. But she had a job to do. She and her father were avoiding each other for the past couple of days since their awkward first time meeting each other in about 12 years. Anxiety crept up on her at a bad time. She potentially have people’s lives in her hands.

“Be professional Be Professional Be Professional.” she thought to herself again and decided to reply in the aviation language.”

“Zulu, Yankee, Romeo, Alpha....Uniform, Delta, Alpha, Kilo, Uniform…….Sir.”

“Oh.”

“Roger that”

T’challa nodded his head in approval and turned off autopilot to follow further landing instructions. He suddenly realised that he has a lot to learn when it comes to his eldest, especially her capabilities. He knew popping back into her life at such a risky stage of adolescence was not going to be a walk in the park, especially for a girl, but this will be one hell of a ride. And the rejected handshake was an astounding start, unfortunately.

Back in the controls room, it was 2pm, Zyra handed other the controls to the staff who was on a lunch break .

“You look so cute doing the controls” Shuri said. “you look like that girl from the Austin Powers movie” She was referring to Zyra’s outfit- a turtle neck, long sleeved cropped shirt, tucked into a high waisted flowing skirt with white knee-high boots.

“Thanks mamas! Y’all give me a stylist, to wear these boujie ass clothes in the house, when Wakanda is fucking 80 degrees. Aiight.”

Shuri just laughed along to Zyra’s rant, while they made their way to their quarters, so Zyra can get ready for cheer practice.

“Girl, guess who popped up on the comms when I was in the controls”

“Who?” Shuri cheekily plopped on Zyra’ bed, waiting for her to spill the tea she already tasted.

“His majesty of course.”

Shuri gasped.

“Did he find out it was you? Cause our last female air traffic controller retired a year ago.”

“He asked and I told him! Shyiieet. AND IN AVIATION LANGUAGE TOO! He talking bout summ ‘who’s controllin the air traffic’ ME BITCH! FUCK YOU MEAN!’ “ They both screamed with laughter and high-fiving each other like the partners in crime that they are.

“Oooo mamas! We have to talk about the outfits for the ceremony before you leave for the competition this week”

“Well I-”

As soon as they turned the corner, they ran into the King himself, still dressed in his panther suit. Zyra groaned internally.

“Hey brother! Nice to see you! How was the mission?”

“It was a bit of a challenge but a success” he said handing Shuri some devices, as she makes a run for it.

T’challa looked to his daughter.

“Hi intombazana yakho”

“Molo wam kumkani” Zyra replied awkwardly avoiding eye contact, looking all over the room.

“You don’t have to call me that, eh? I wanted to- “

“HIIII DADDYYYY!” the sound of Sariyah’s voice cut their conversation short. Both Matthew and Sariyah had just came home from school.

She ran into her father’s arms, totally disregarding Zyra’s presence on purpose. This gave Zyra saw the queue to leave the big happy family alone and go about her way. Sariyah smirked at her charms winning over her father once again. Matthew noticed his big sis hurrying out the door.

“Yo Where you going?”

“Practice.” she said dryly to her brother, before bolting out the door.

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

T’challa sat up in his bed, relaxing- wearing a fleece coated robe, bedroom slippers and sipping on some peppermint tea, recovering from his winter mission.He used this little downtime to get some R&R before the annual battle for the crown ceremony the next day. As he watched Lord Attuma from Atlantis giving his global warming statement on BBC World News, the door opened swiftly and caught the King’s attention.

“There you are!” Queen Nicolette smiled sweetly when she saw her husband. She crawled into bed, kissing T’challa deeply, before she sat in his lap.

They spoke briefly about the mission in switzerland and other personal ‘married couple’ stuff.

“Are you ready for tomorrow honey?” She said, while playing with the King’s moisturized curls.

“Eh, I think the third time around wouldn’t be such a challenge, plus baba and I need to have some brief words.”

“About Zyra right?”

T’challa eyes wandered off and bit his lip.

“Speaking of Zyra, ah she’s a doll, gorgeous. So sweet and so talented! I always say that she looks

Just.

you.”

T’challa looks at his baby girl cradled in his arms, as she yawns adorably, whilst making cute baby noises.

T’challa shook himself out of his flashback.

Did you know she agreed to be main dancer for the royal family?”

“Really?” T’challa gave an inquisitive look. “We haven’t had main dancer in about 50 years. Not since Princess Gcobisa.”

Princess Gcobisa was the youngest daughter of King Azzuri, and the baby sister of King T’chaka and Prince N’jobu. She was one of the most exciting, ray of sunshine royals in the family. She passed away from a concussion injury during training at the tender age of 18. T’chaka often told T’challa stories about his baby sister, because they were very close and would often say that Zyra reminds him of her, especially for both their love for dance. Hence Zyra’s middle name, Cebisa is close with hers, Gcobisa.

“By the way, how’s communication been working out for you?” Nicolette continued.

“She seems a little tip toey around me, which I understand, at least she’s respectful. What about you?”

“Well….she ran off before I could speak to her when Sariyah and Matthew came home from school...so I guess that’s a start.” T’challa chuckled.

“And she keep addressing me as ‘my king’ , I don’t have formalities with my children.”

“Then TELL HER.”

“I know but you can’t give up on her. Keep trying. That’s your first born, don’t you ever forget that.”

T’challa agreed in silence.

Later that evening…

“ Practice is over! I’m only half way dead..but I did pretty good so” Zyra laughed whilst recording her vlog at practice.

“Look! We got a second package for this weekend’s competition.!”

With short appearances and lots of laughs from her fellow teammates, she started to head home.

“So you’re actually dancing foreal?” Kailee asked her.

“Meh, I’m gonna try summ. I aint no professional doe.”

“My sister gonna dance too, don’t worry about it tho.

They both said their goodbyes and went about their separate ways.

Zyra skipped into the palace with her bare socks on her feet, aided by her personal guard N’ceba.

“Real ass bitch, give a fuck 'bout a nigga”

“Big Birkin bag, hold five, six figures” Zyra rapped the to the song “Act Up” By City Girls, making her way through the palace, with her rose gold solo beats blasting in her ears.

“Stripes on my ass so he call this pussy Tigger”

“Fuckin' on a scammin' ass, rich ass nigga”

“Sa-”

Zyra jumped and cut the rapping short when she walked into the dining room to find her father, Nicolette and her siblings having dinner.

“Oh hey..Molweni” She gave them an awkward wave.

“Hey hun! How was practice! Come have dinner with us.”

T’challa looked at Zyra nervously, whilst Nicolette gave him the ‘right T’challa?’ look and pinched him on his leg which caused him to slightly jump.

“Ah, Yes, you must be hungry and tired” he cleared his throat.

Zyra thought about it for a moment before making a decision.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really hungry right now, I’ll just eat in my room and watch Netflix, bye!”

She rushed off before T’challa can say anything else.

“She declined food? That’s a first!” Matthew chuckled.

“She’s probably scared of me ...hmmm” Sariyah laughed to herself and continued to eat her food.

“Why would she be scared of you?” T’challa chimed in, looking concerned.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

He side-eyed his youngest, like a white politician asking for the price of vibranium.

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

I’m still annoyed about earlier.

I don’t fit into his life.

Not even if I tried.

He moved on with his new family.

Nicolette..she tries to be nice, it seem fake as fuck, but I can’t blame her to be honest. Imagine your husband hiding a child tho...

So does Matthew. He’s cool. As least he wanted to meet me.

Princess.

But Sariyah is such a stuck up bitch...she needs to pipe down before I knock her upside her motherfucking head.

Princess…

What am I even doing here?

Here we go again with the princess shit.

“Wake up my princess!”

“Huh?” Zyra jumped up with her bonnet almost off her head and eyes squinting from the light.

“Good Morning! Your breakfast is ready and the designer’s are ready for your fitting.

She brain did a windows XP start-up and she realised what her attendant was trying to tell her.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

As soon as Bongani left, she plopped right back into bed. She was still sore from cheer practice.

After she freshened up and ate her breakfast, Bongani was giving her a run down about the events that were going to take place at the ceremony and the protocol afterwards, regarding the winner of the battle.

The palace’s glam team worked on her makeup; and paint designs on her body, did an african style updo and fitted her for her Wakandan ceremonial dance outfit.

She was excited but nervous, she practiced some moves before bed last night and only hope she doesn’t mess up in front of everybody.

As the boats moved along the water, she moved her body to the beat of the drums which orchestrated her natural stage presence. All the other boats with the tribe leaders and dancers joined in. Her astounding talent in dance made the her fellow family members cheer her on and dancing along. She even cheekily dance on N’ceba while she was doing her dora milaje dance. (yemi’s pieces is zyra’s outfit)

“She such an attention whore! Ugh” Sariyah said in Matthew’s ear, and he laughed at her jealousy.

While she was dancing, she spotted someone that would be awkward as hell to cross paths with. Nakia. It’s very weird because it’s literally the same girl that her father used to sleep around with, when her mother was pregnant with her. Also, she happens to be her friend Kailee’s, older sister.

With that, Zyra’s confidence shot up into the air cause she really wanted to show Nakia that Nakia didn’t want no smoke.

The waterfall celebration was beautiful. So many beautiful black people in a kaleidoscope of colors.T’challa came out and the crowd started chanting his name as he awaited his challenger. He had fought two warriors from Border Tribe and Merchant Tribe and finally one from Mining Tribe. This time he was bigger than M’baku. Built like a Goliath ass nigga.

“Im just letting y’all know that, if we lose, my black ass is taking the first flight back to NY. I’m out this bitch. Period“ Zyra whispered in Shuri’s ear and she giggled.

“You ain’t going nowhere”

“Aite, bet.”

T’challa eventually won the fight but still got his ass beat. He was still the Black Panther & the King Wakanda.

Amongst the celebration of his win, came Nakia taking over the dance session. Nicolette carefully eyed her out of curiosity. Zyra was dancing in her own world but saw that Nakia was looking in her direction and the crowd was egging her on. Kailee warned Zyra that she battle the main dancers from every tribe, every year. But she wasn’t bothered by anybody because she’s an athlete, so she’s very competitive. And she wasn't about to let her father’s ex push her in a corner. So she stepped up.

Nakia kept doing her own thing while her tribe and the audience were cheering her on. Zyra cracked her neck effortlessly as she secured her stance. She looked to the River Tribe crowd of where she saw Kailee and Brandon giving her the thumbs up. Zyra pulled out the dance moves that she have been practicing in the training room for days. With her moves hitting to every solid beat of the drums, even throwing a backflip to an award winning split whilst looking Nakia straight in the eyes, which made the Wakandans clutch their pearls. Showing her flexibility skills with a flawless heel stretch and ended it off with the majorette style death drop. The crowd went wild. The crowd clearly chose their winner. Zyra knew Nakia can’t top that one. She learned that from her Majorette dance group at Spelman College. She knows that SHE don't know nothing about that.

T’challa looked on clapping for his daughter. He was impressed. But not surprised to say the least. Raechella used to be a professional dancer and a volleyballer in her younger years. Athleticism definitely runs in the family.

Despite Zyra giving Nakia a shady stare-down and cocky hair flip, she decided to extend an olive branch.

Walking up to Nakia , she held out her hand to her.

“Congrats Princess” Nakia says with a bow.

The bow confused Zyra a bit.

Is she mocking me or being respectful?

“thank you.”

Nicolette soon came rushing over with excitement and snatched Zyra from the conversation , which made Nakia fall back awkwardly .

“oh my gosh!!! I didn't know you had it in you! Did you know your father was watching?”

Who?

“oh ok.”

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

“Y’all see this right?”

“Zyra did what she had to do! #PERIOD”

“The fact that Zyra beat her father’s ex in a dance battle is iconic.”

“It’s today’s old that I found out Zyra is african. I heard she got Caribbean fam too!”

“Fuck the dance battle! I was robbed of Zyra challenging her father for the throne. #QueenZyra”

“UGH”

“Zyra this, Zyra that. These idiots don’t get tired?” Sariyah strolled down through black twitter and rolling her eyes at the tweets from the video of Zyra dancing that went viral overnight.

“You don’t get tired hating?” Matthew chimed in as he walked past her open door.

“BOY SHUT UP ! NO ONE IS TALKING TO YOU”

“AND WHY YOU SO DEFENSIVE ABOUT HER ANYWAYS? YOU DON’T KNOW HER! SHE’S A NOBODY MATTHEW!”

Matthew couldn’t believe how his sister was acting. Yeah she is a little boujie and rude at times but she was way too bothered about Zyra being in the house.

“Maybe if you aren’t so jealous, you would get to know her too.”

Sariyah laughed sarcastically.

“Jealous of that thing? She and her mama are clout chasers Matt!”

Matthew didn’t respond to her insults, he just slammed his bedroom door on the way in.

………...

*refer to this fic* At Adam’s house, the gang were hanging out for the impromptu friday game night. Adam and Kailee just finished killing each other about who won monopoly, whilst diving into an interesting story time about Zyra and her encounter with one of her father’s bevy of women he dated over the years. (zyra below)

“Speaking of EXES Zyra…” Chioma laughs while biting into her lemon pepper wing that Zyra wanted to steal.

“Let’s talk about the balls you had dance battling Nakia.”

“I’m not gonna gas you cause you’re my friend, but you killed that shit foreal.” Adam chimed in and kailee started clapping.

“I didn’t know THAT was gonna come out of her!”

“ME NEITHER!”

“YASSS!!”

Zyra cringed uncomfortably and adorably at the slightest compliment. While she is flattered usually, she’s not the biggest fan of praise nor extra attention.

“I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as fuck, but my momma didn’t raise no pussy.”

“.....”

“I’m not in support of this, but my sister wants to talk to you”

“Ooop” Brandon sipped his drink.

Zyra was shocked.

“Really?”

“I personally think my sister is a hoe, and what she did to your mom was foul but-”

“Did you just call your sister a hoe?”

“Um..she is?? One time, she tried to tell my father about me sneaking out the house to see my boyfriend, and when I told her that he was my man and I don’t fuck other people’s husbands or baby daddy’s, she punched me and we started fighting.”

Everybody in room burst into the laugher.

“Sis was triggered I guess.” Zyra said, trying to recover from laughing so hard.

“In all seriousness...yeah. It’s up to you though.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“...”

“Chioma I know you can’t finish those wings, gimme!”

*SONG FOR THE CHAPTER (YEMI ALADE - YAJI FT SLIMCASE & BRAINEE)

Molo ngokuhlwa- Good Afternoon.

intom

bazana yakho - my daughter

Molo - hi

Wam kumkani - my king

Molweni - good evening

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS CHAPTER? WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING HAPPEN NEXT? COMMENT !! YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS ALOT! AND REBLOG TO SHARE WITH OTHERS IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER. - Lanna xx

Taglist: @mxrvelous-bxrnes @kida114 @royallyprincesslilly @randomassfandomwho @jadesid @deansbbysblog @pananegra @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard @janell-r @zacarakillmonger @omgsuperstarg @skysynclair19 @amethyst09 @sisterwifeudaku @bezzywazhere @letrecek @champagnesugamama @maddiestundentwritergaines @bribrisback @oceanscorazon @mufasathatniggatho @raysunshine78 @queennanayaa @fonville-designs @chaneajoyyy

#T'Challa #black panther #Chadwick Boseman #t'challa x reader #t'challa imagine #black panther x reader #black panther imagine #shuri #zyra udaku #t'challa udaku #nakia #wakanda #Dora Milaje #black panther fanfiction

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pingo1387 · 5 years

Note

pick one or more: luffy, hug, cry, punch, kiss

how about all of them (under a cut)

Actually I think i’ll do all of them except Luffy bc all of my wips are one piece so i’d end up posting 50% of every chapter

Hug

from Two Households, Both Alike

Franky’s Bewear cheered and grabbed him in a gentle hug.

“So you couldn’t stop him, after all?” Usopp asked, hugging her. “Team Aqua’s scary . . .”

from A Dream Whose Name I Dare Not Mention

It was the ship, the ship Usopp had allegedly risked everything for. Somehow, it was here, and as Luffy and Chopper cried and hugged the deck, Usopp stared at the figurehead and approached it, picking up the glowing object given to him by the ship itself.

Cry

from We’re Here Together

“Sanji-kun, send some of those down the dumbwaiter when they’re ready,” she said, waving a hand as she exited the kitchen to Sanji’s cry of complacence.

“I . . . you’re crying.”

from Two Households, Both Alike

A gorgeous Swanna flew out from the Pokéball, spreading her wings wide. But before anyone could make a move, the rocks, still hovering from when Kilo had used Stealth Rock, spun through the air and slammed into Cerise, making her cry out.

“He’s in his room,” Robin reported, returning to the lounge and sitting on the couch with Zoro and Usopp. “Half our team quit after that fiasco. I think he’s crying.”

from A Dream Whose Name I Dare Not Mention

Laboon let out a cry of protest.

“Get yourselves together!” Yorki exclaimed when Crocus and Laboon were out of sight and much of the crew had begun to cry. “Let’s have a round of that song to lift our spirits! Brook?!”

“Were you surprised by that display?” she asked, looking back to where Franky had run off crying.

Punch

from Two Households, Both Alike

They glared and bickered all the way to Mauville and into the Pokécenter. The poor nurse looked scared out of her wits when they shoved each other, trying to get to the counter first, and told them in a whisper their teams could be healed simultaneously. Sanji began flirting with her, leading Zoro to punch him in the shoulder before handing the nurse his Pokéballs with a thank-you and heading to sit in a chair. Sanji scowled, gave her his own team, and followed Zoro, hissing curses at him as he sat down.

They sat in silence. When they realized they’d managed to have a civil conversation without punching or bickering, they stood.

They unclipped the balls from their belts and traded, letting out their Pokémon. Admiral punched Zoro with affection and Brie headbutted Sanji’s shoulder.

“That’s a relief,” Zoro said with a smile, punching Admiral back. “I was worried she’d gone and evolved without me.”

“Perk up!” Nami said, punching his shoulder. “You can finally face off against that asshole you talked about, and win this time!”

from Your Princess Is in Another Castle

“Huh?” Luffy turned around, pausing his task of punching the door. “Nami! Franky! Hi! What’re you doing here?”

“Usopp and Chopper? They wandered away somewhere, so I was exploring, and I found this cool door,” Luffy said, pointing. “But it won’t open, so I’ve been punching it. It’s actually great you’re here! You can help me break it down!”

from A Dream Whose Name I Dare Not Mention

Zoro punched his ribcage.

“You came here last time, too.” Luffy sat next to him. “But that was after you punched that butt-ler.”

“Fine,” Usopp sighed. “Why did I punch him?”

Kiss

from We’re Here Together

“When I find you, we shall be wed! Then, I will bestow upon you a kiss of true love, first on your lips, and then on your—”

from Two Households, Both Alike

Zoro paused. Unable to find his voice, he instead turned and yanked Sanji to him by his shoulder, kissing him just near his eye and pulling away.

Sanji pulled Zoro closer and they kissed properly this time.

Sanji clasped Zoro’s face in his hands and kissed his nose. “You’re sweet.”

Zoro leaned in and closed his eyes, allowing Sanji to plant kisses across his face and neck. He brought a hand up to run his fingers through Sanji’s hair (what stuck out from under the bandana, anyway) and leaned in to kiss him in return—

“See you around,” Sanji said, blowing a kiss. Zoro pulled his hood down and left, and Sanji went the opposite way, sending out Cerise when he was out of the woods to fly back to the base.

Sanji used the hand still on his shoulder to pull Zoro towards him and kissed his cheek.

Sanji kissed the receiver and hung up. Zoro sighed, smiled, and put away the Pokénav before taking out his Emblem to get into the Hideout.

from Your Princess Is in Another Castle

The woman went up to Nami and leaned in, kissing her cheek. Nami’s eyes widened and she flushed crimson.

“Oh, but, if you insist, then it can’t be helped,” Brook said quickly. The woman took his hand and lifted it, kissing the back.

That’s all for those words! Thank you so much!

#one piece #writing adventures #excerpt #zosan

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wuxian-chalory · 5 years

Text

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @seanymphe-blogging

Are you named after anyone?

Oh, I am! I was named after the Crown Princess of Greece Marie-Chantal, except my dad apparently omitted the Marie part since he didn’t like that part of her name too well lmao

When was the last time you cried?

Last week. Family drama, the usual.

Do you have kids?

Nada. Zip. Zippo

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I’m fond of using sarcasm, in irl but I seldom use it online. Text can be easily misinterpreted, on your side of the screen you might feel like your being cheeky, but on your recipients side the first thought on their head would probably be ‘Asshole much?’ So yeah. I use sarcasm, but never online :b (Unless of course, the people I’m chatting know me well enough to decipher whether or not I’m being a dick.)

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

The first thing about people when I meet them for the first time is probably their eyes. I look at the color, how it shines and practically just that. Corny, I know.

What’s your eye color?

Plain, boring brown.

Scary movie or happy ending?

I am a complete sucker for scary movies. Like, dude. I will devour the whole Conjuring series, alone with my barbecue flavored cheetos opened for messy consumption.

Any special talents?

Despite my abhorrence to actually getting children of my own, I’m actually quite good with kids and babies. I wouldn’t say this was a talent, but mehh

Where were you born?

Nope. (somewhere.....)

What are your hobbies?

I like coding with Python a lot, I write and then I code some more. I occasionally take walks across my town with my dog too.

Do you have any pets?

I have a black 28 kilo Bulgarian sheepdog, who I love and adore very much.

What sports do you play/have played?

Badminton. Just badminton. I never liked sports, but somehow badminton sneaked its way into my heart.

How tall are you?

6′0

1. Favorite subject in school?

Science and History

Dream job?

Software developer.

Tagging: @exarite @limonium-anemos @oneoftheoddones @thenewarikethtae @bitsofeverything247 @artsy-death @tired-luxis @kuffymik and everyone who wants to partake in this fun game!

#thanks for tagging me!

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i-am-a-mes · 6 years

Text

Pets and Fuzzy socks 2

Plot: You are a vet tech who one day gets a dog in at the clinic, who’s owner happen to be Tom Hiddleston.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut, abuse mental and physical

Author’s note: So this is my first attemt at a fanfic. Be gentle! Gonna be a slow burn (if i got the patience for it)

Cursive: Reader’s thoughts

Disclaimer: Not my gifs or pictures

Thank you my darling @jj-trickster for being my beta! You are my hero!

Series Masterlist

Chapter two:

The next two weeks went by as normal. I went to work, then came home to my small apartment.

I loved my place. It was small studio, but super cozy, filled with plants, colorful interior and movie posters, old and new on the walls. But my favorite place was my reading nook. I had turned my closet into this adorable sanctuary. I loved spending time with myself and reading my books.

Well it wasn’t just my place, actually I shared it with... my cat Edith. She was a crumpy British shorthair who owned the place, and sometimes we snuggled. Loved that silly cat.

One day I was reading Harry Potter for the 100th time and drinking some tea from my favorite Star Wars mug, all snuggled up in my nook, when my phone binged. It was a text from Daniel, it read:

“So, I’m not coming over tonight. The guys and I are gonna go out.”

I sighed, cancelling our dinner plans again... I had gotten used to it, I replied:

“That’s okay, I’m just gonna stay in my nook and read my HP”

“HP? Like the sauce? Haha … Anyway... have a good night”

The two years with Daniel had been great, well good. He was a handsome man, with a steady, respectable job. He was sweet and knew what he wanted. We had met at a bar, where he came on to me …strong. I never really got that response from men. Often, they ignored me, or I just didn’t know how to flirt. So, when Daniel, this handsome man, came on to me and didn’t take no for an answer, I felt special, and after a couple of weeks of dating, we became exclusive.

He had often asked if I wanted to move in with him in his apartment, but I was just not ready for that. I loved my space and alone time. He accepted that, but still needed to know what I was doing every day and who I was with. I thought sometimes it was a bit much, but he assured me that it was only because he loved me so much and was protective of his girl. It might sound stupid but made me feel like a princess.

He didn’t quite get my nerdy side either, in fact he often teased me with it. I didn’t mind, then I had something that was my own.

So here I was curled up in my nook, with my book and tea, putting on my unicorn headphones with Debussy blaring through, and Edith lying on my legs. That was a good night!

*Bling*

My phone made the sound indication a text. I thought it was just a drunk text from Daniel, wondering what I was up to. Contemplating not looking, I remembered that if I didn’t answer he would just call, and that I didn’t want to deal with. Sighing, I picked up my phone, and to my surprise, it wasn’t Daniel’s name on the screen. It read “Tom” ... I had to do a double take and made my eyes as big as saucers. The text read,

“Hello Y/N, wondering what Elle’s favorite vet tech is up to on this Saturday night? /Tom”

The biggest smile ever sneaked up on my face. I quickly replied

“Well hello Tom, nice to hear from you, how is my favorite patient doing? I’m just sitting in my nook reading and listening to some music. How about you?”

“She is doing absolutely amazing, back to being normal, happy Elle. A nook you say? What does that look like?”

I snapped a photo of my nook and pressed send.

“That is the coziest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

Safe to say I didn’t get to read another line in my book. Tom and I texted all night, discussing music, literature and our pets. I was smiling like an idiot after reading a funny joke Tom made, when it banged on the door loudly. I let out a small squeak of surprise, before getting up and looking out the peephole in my door. There stood Daniel, in all his drunken glory. I sighed and opened the door.

“Hi baby, give me a kiss”

He stumbled through the door and attacked my lips. After a wet sloppy kiss, I got a small break just enough to close the door and lock it.

“Hi honey, wanna come in?” I said thick with sarcasm. I turned around and saw all his clothes on the floor and Daniel came closer in only his underwear. I couldn’t help but smile at the silly drunk, horny man in front of me. Suddenly, he slammed me against the door, giving me a second act of the sloppy kisses, before lifting me up, so I could snake my legs around his waist. He held me up against the door, while trying to get to my breasts. He mumbled something about too much clothes. He put me down and took my hand and pulled me towards the bed.

He pushed me down on the bed and pulled my small t-shirt off and my comfy shorts including my panties. The third act of more sloppy kisses commenced and with no foreplay or nothing, I felt his cock penetrate me and he fucked me for about 3 minutes before he got his release. He laid on top of me, sweaty and already falling asleep.

Well this is romantic.

After some squirming I got out from under Daniel’s heavy body and put him under the covers.

I returned to my nook to clean up, when I saw my phone...

“Tom!”

I said in a small squeaky voice. I looked at my phone to see 3 messages from Tom.

“Well I really enjoy Shakespeare, what other books are you reading at this moment?”

Few minutes later

“Y/N, did I say something wrong? Want to talk about movies instead?”

10 minutes after that

“I think you might have fallen asleep. It is rather late. But thank for the wonderful conversation. Sleep tight in your little nook”

That was received 5 minutes ago.

Oh well, he probably went to bed, should turn in myself.

With a hint of a smile on my lips, I crawled under the covers next to Daniel who by now was snoring and claiming 70% of the bed. I sighed and rolled onto my side, thinking about Tom.

This was not good, but it sure felt good, and different from anything else.

Sleep took over my thoughts.

The next week was quite eventless except the daily texting with Tom. It made me smile big time and to be honest gave me some butterflies in my belly.

What was this man doing to me?? I had a boyfriend, even though I clearly had more in common with Tom, than with Daniel. Why was I thinking about this? I love Daniel, don’t I? I have spent two years with this man. Tom, I didn’t know him...and he can’t be interested in me like that?! Stop thinking like this Y/N!

Leila my boss called my name and pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yeah??”

“Why don’t you head home, I will close up for today.”

“Are you sure? I can stay?”

“You worked hard this week, go home to Edith”

She said with a wink. I gave her a smile and thanked her.

I texted Daniel that I got early off work, if he was up to something? He replied that he had time for a quick dinner at our favorite pizza place.

Sitting in front of Daniel at Lorenzo’s enjoying the pizza, my eyes wondered over the man in front of me devouring a pizza slice.

“Do you wanna do something fun this weekend? I don’t have a shift at the clinic, so I’m up for anything?” I asked with cheer in my voice.

With some cheese dripping from the corner of his mouth, he looked at me

“Yeah… sure... oh shit, I can’t. Gotta go away on a business trip from tomorrow morning to Monday. So sorry babydoll.”

“Oh okay... that sucks... is this new? Haven’t heard about it?”

“Nahh. I just forgot to mention it”

I nodded slowly making a small frown and continued eating my pizza slice.

“By the way sugar, easy on the pizza “

He said it with a wink. I just smiled annoyed at him and he laughed. He had begun making jokes about my weight lately, because, yeah, I had gotten some extra kilos around my body. The obligatory boyfriend-weight. I wasn’t skinny when we started dating, but the extra was noticeable. Daniel still touched me and said I was pretty. But the comments here and there didn’t help with my already shaky self-esteem. But I’d learned to shrug it off and rolled my eyes at it.

Daniel left Saturday morning for his trip. Now it was just me and Edith.

“What do you say Edith, Chinese and Marvel tonight?”

The grey fat cat looked up at me

“Meooow”

“Greats it’s a date” I said patting her lightly on her head.

Crawling under my covers in my bed with Chinese take away boxes everywhere (eating my feelings away was where I excelled).

The opening credits started rolling over the screen Thor: Ragnarok and I was snuggling in with a mouthful egg fried noodles.

When I saw him, I nearly choked on my noodles!

Noooo! It can’t be?? It’s Tom! Elle’s Tom. Holy fuck! I’ve been texting with Tom Hiddleston!

I sat there mouth agape and not knowing what to do with myself.

About 10 minutes later, a *Bing* chimed in on my phone, picking it up and seeing “Tom” on the screen. I dropped the shrimp from my chopsticks, and opened the text

“Hi Y/N, what are you and lovely Edith doing this fine Saturday evening?”

What should I write? I don’t know how to talk to a celebrity??

“Well hello sir, just having a feast of Chinese food and a movie ... “

“That sounds like an amazing night, what movie if I may ask?”

“Thor: Ragnarok”

“Really? Like Marvel huh?

Oh god this is not happening!

“Yeah. Must admit I’m a bit embarrassed”

“And why would you be that?”

“You see, I didn’t recognize you at the clinic”

“Ah I see… hopefully you are not scared away?”

“NO, of course not! I’m just a bit star struck I must admit”

“Well, that’s okay with me. In fact, I find it quite sweet. So, what your favorite marvel movie”

“Got to admit that I prefer the Thor stories over the other”

“Really? I got to ask, are you a Thor or a Loki girl?”

My palms began to feel sweaty and I turned red as a tomato. Here goes nothing

“Got to admit, I’m a sucker for a misunderstood bad boy”

The three dots appeared… then disappeared... Oh shit, cramming some noodles in my mouth, while my heart began racing.

*Bing*…

“Good to know. So, you would join his army then?”

“In a heartbeat, kneel and everything”

Did I just write that? And send it?! Fuck! Well it’s too late now ... and yeah, it’s just fun. Nothing serious. Right?

My heart began beating harder and the butterflies were so bad I almost began feeling nausea.

“Careful pet, playing with fire, are we?”

That text went straight to my core. Reading it repeatedly, I could practically hear Loki’s voice whispering the words. SHIT that was hot. I sat up straight, not knowing what to do with myself. My fingers hovered over the keyboard on my phone. The three dots appeared … I bit down on my lips waiting for the next text.

“Sorry, too much? Didn’t mean to scare you?”

“Oh no don’t apologize. It’s all in good fun. So, what is the big movie star up to this Saturday night? Big party? Red carpet?”

Tried to wheel it back in.

I did have a boyfriend ... boyfriend ... Daniel. Hmm wondering if he had landed?

I sent him a text asking if he landed okay? – No reply

*Bing* Not from Daniel, but from Tom

“You might think that, but no, I am just enjoying my time off with Elle and reading a bit. I do have an idea… if you are up for it of course?”

“Sounds nice. Sure, what is it?”

I was glad that the flirty undertone had disappeared. Didn’t think I would handle that, and I’m quite sure that he was just playing along.

Tom Hiddleston couldn’t possibly want to flirt with me. No, it’s just fun as friends... Right?

“If you don’t have any plans tomorrow, I wondered if I could take you out for some coffee? Never really got a chance to say thank you for helping with my Elle”

Coffee date with Tom Hiddleston? Whose life is this? Not mine that’s for sure!

“Yeah, sounds great. Just text me the deets tomorrow. Think I’m gonna watch my movie and then turn in, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is love, don’t need to ask permission. Sleep tight”

The butterflies came back in my belly. A coffee date tomorrow with Tom.

Well it’s not a date, just two friends drinking coffee. Oh shit, what was I going to wear?

Taglist:

@jj-trickster @lilyrosebae

#tom hiddleston #tom x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #fanfic #mcu #loki #loki laufeyson #smut #angst #fluff

181 notes · View notes

your-dietician · 3 years

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Is Germany nailing diverse and inclusive entertainment? | Film | DW

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/entertainment/is-germany-nailing-diverse-and-inclusive-entertainment-film-dw/

Is Germany nailing diverse and inclusive entertainment? | Film | DW

“Why kiss a frog when you could kiss a princess,” goes the tagline for “Princess Charming,” the self-proclaimed first lesbian reality dating show in the world that is being aired on the German streaming platform TVNOW. Modeled after The Bachelor, the show has several lesbian women vying for the affections of one woman. And for gay men, there’s the show Take Me Out: Boys, Boys, Boys to the same effect.

And then we also have the Heidi Klum-produced-and-hosted show Germany’s Next Topmodel 2021, which features trans model Alex Mariah Peter as its latest winner and Druck, a YouTube series on teenagers in Berlin that aims to represent different ethnic groups in the German capital. It would appear that German TV reflects the kind of pluralism that the country is known for around the world.

Even in the less agile world of cinema, there’s been a steady trend toward greater representation: In recent years, films like Türkisch für Anfänger (2012) — which was spun off from a TV series — and Fack ju Göhte (2013) have also tried to reflect Germany’s changing social structures. But is all this enough?

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

The winner: Alex

Alex Mariah Peter from Cologne became the first transgender person in the history of the show to win the competition. “Being different is much more normal than we admit to ourselves,” said the 23-year-old, who barely broached the subject of inclusion throughout the season. Speaking about future plans following the victory, the winner said, “First of all, I’m going to get a schnitzel to eat.”

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

A gender-sensitive avatar

“Inclusion” is now a global catchphrase, and the show also brought it into focus by adding a ‘*’ to its logo — a symbol for diffuse gender roles. Women who were previously marginalized or left out because they were different could now present themselves on GNTM. Refugees, curvy women and transgenders — all got a chance under the spotlight.

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Curvy is beautiful

Ukrainian-born Dascha has been living in Germany since she was five and says she was bullied for most of her life. That’s why she didn’t just want to win but also make an important statement: “I want to be an ideal and support people who are bullied.” The confident 21-year-old weighs 85 kilos (187 pounds).

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Living the dream

In 2015, Soulin and her family fled Syria and arrived in Germany via Turkey. The 20-year-old was all teary-eyed while modeling for a jeans brand: “I am the girl who could not achieve her dreams. Now I’m here and living my dream.” Soulin is now a model and made it to third place on GNTM.

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Small is beautiful

At 1.68 meters (5 ft. 6.1 inches), Romina is hardly someone you would call “short,” but aspirants for GNTM need to be at least 1.76 meters tall. Romina had a very natural look for the show but earlier, she copied stars like Kylie Jenner and even got botox injected into her lips. Now she wants to support young girls who blindly follow social media trends.

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Beauty beyond skin color

Sara Nuru’s parents immigrated from Ethiopia, and she says she was the first Black baby to be born at a hospital in the town of Erding in Bavaria. She was also the first Black model to win GNTM in 2009. Nuru has gone places since then and is now involved with developmental projects in her parents’ home country.

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Heidi Klum’s ‘circus for models?’

“Germany’s Next Top Model – by Heidi Klum” has been on air since 2006 with the supermodel as its host. For decades, its catwalks only displayed mostly white, slim and tall women with long legs. Transgenders, small-sized women or those with curves had no chance of walking on the ramp.

Transgender person wins ‘Germany’s Next Topmodel’

Physical beauty is skin-deep

Heidi Klum and GNTM boast loyal fans among many Germans, especially young girls, who idolize the show and its models. But critics say that teenage girls often copy anorexic models on GNTM, which sends out the message that beauty is more important than education. This year as well, feminists protested the sexualization of female bodies on the show.

Author: Suzanne Cords

German popular culture seems to be getting more inclusive, at least when it comes to acknowledging the presence and existence of LGBTQ individuals and of people from different ethnic backgrounds. But until now, television and entertainment in general have primarily stuck to stereotypes when portraying such minorities.

And there has been little public discussion on the various dimensions pertaining to diversity that issues like inclusion in society and — by consequence — the representation of minorities in television and entertainment generally should entail.

Too Turkish to be German?

“You can see that homosexuals, transsexuals and others are indeed represented in German television. Germany is much more liberal than other countries,” says actor Dean Baykan, who was born in Germany to Turkish parents. Compared to Germany, other European countries like Hungary, for example, have been very strict in their punitive attitude towards homosexuality, with a recently tabled law there practically outlawing the public representation of lifestyles that don’t fall in line with so-called traditional family values.

“But while Germany is open in some ways, in other ways it’s actually more conservative,” Baykan continues. “For example, foreigners or those with a foreign background are not taken seriously in feature films or in serious acting projects.”

Actor Dean Baykan has missed out on many ‘meaty’ roles

Baykan himself explains how he once almost scored a major role in a popular crime series on a German TV channel — but only almost. “I made it to the final round,” he said, adding that he feels that his Turkish background may have been the reason for producers deciding against him — despite the fact that he has a western first name. Whether his ethnic background was a dealbreaker or not may never be known, but actors like Baykan feel that they are not being considered for certain roles not because of an apparent lack of talent but rather because casting directors prefer when they are reduced to representing stereotypes.

‘Drug dealers, criminals and weaklings’

Filmmaker Deiu Hao Do agrees with that sort of assessment. The son of Chinese minority immigrants from Vietnam is part of the project Vielfalt im Film (diversity in film), and represents the Berlin Asian Film Network (BAFNET).

“You have Black people selling drugs, Muslims being cast as criminals, Asian women playing weak characters … But there is much more complexity to these ethnic groups, and these also need to be represented,” he told DW.

In a recent survey conducted by Vielfalt im Film, 5,500 participants said they found that such clichés were being perpetuated by the industry. Nearly 88% said that Arabs were usually represented in stereotypical ways on German television. The number was nearly 83% for Muslims in general, nearly 75% for Asians and 56% for Jews, as anti-Semitism is on the rise across many parts of Europe once more.

Born this way

German-Nigerian actor Sheri Hagen

Furthermore, 13% said they had faced bias because of their body shape and weight, while 10% of the participants said they had experienced discrimination because of their sexual identity. The study also mentioned homosexual participants saying that they had tried to hide their sexual orientation in order to improve their chances of finding work or obtaining a certain role in a film or show.

Earlier this year, 185 actors in Germany publicly announced in a newspaper article that they identified as “different” and that it was time for them to publicly acknowledge that they were gay, bisexual, lesbian, queer, non-binary and transsexual. They all demanded more visibility and representation in the German entertainment industry, having been pushed into hiding, ignoring or glossing over their identities.

Indeed, broadcasters themselves have been rather reluctant about addressing their actors’ sexual identities directly, even reflecting a sense of denial in some instances. German actress Ulrike Folkerts, for example, is a lesbian in real life but plays a heterosexual police officer in the crime series Tatort.

In a recent interview with the Süddeutsche Zeitung, she said that she had only recently been asked by the producers of the show — i.e. the regional public broadcaster SWR — to finally reveal her sexual orientation publicly. She refused, saying it was too late to do so.

185 actors revealed their sexual identites in the Süddeutsche Zeitung

Diversity = complexity?

Actor Sheri Hagen says that the concept of diversity is not just limited to having LGBTQ stars and the token person with a non-German background being featured in a show. The Lagos-born actor moved to Germany in the early 1990s. She identifies as being a German with Nigerian roots.

Hagen has acted in films like the Oscar-winning Das Leben der Anderen or the previously mentioned television crime series Tatort, and often speaks about the importance of greater inclusion in the German entertainment industry.

“Diversity for me is not just about skin color or gender, which is what the dominant thinking in the German film industry, is” she says, adding that diversity also “includes disabilities, sexual identity, weight-based discrimination, east-west discrimination — especially here in Germany — class-based differences, ethnic differences, cultural differences, skin color and more.”

Filmmaker Deiu Hao Do agrees that in this context, it is important to understand how these various dimensions of diversity and the related aspects of potential discrimination interact with each other. Fighting this sort of exclusion is central to promoting the cause of diversity, he stressed.

Deiu Hao Do: campaigning for inclusion

A sore lack of perspective

Streaming platforms have created alternative ways for filmmakers from around the world to showcase their work and reach new audiences. And while content from some parts of the world has certainly capitalized on this potential, these new opportunities haven’t translated into creating a greater amount of diverse streaming content coming from Germany.

Hagen says that Germany can learn a lot from best practices of inclusion currently employed in the British film industry, where shows like Bridgerton and a recent limited series on the life of Anne Boleyn, second wife of King Henry VIII, have used colorblind casting as a means to promote diversity even in period dramas.