#the jean girls i just posted about and it does not capture his beauty at all lol. he just looks average and kinda younger

[chemicalarospec]

every time I'm like "wow I barely noticed my 'crush' when he was around at all recently! I'm so close to being totally over it!" I go through a period where my gaze constantly drifts towards him when he's around, always admiring how pretty he looks.

[xalygatorx]

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 18, "His Clarity"

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: Thor brings Jane to Asgard following her strange disappearance from Midgard during the Convergence. Frigga and Cora both continue to visit Loki in the dungeons, still hopeful they might reach him. An attack is launched by alien ships upon Asgard’s gates.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k

"The Convergence?"

Heimdall nodded briefly. "It is a thinning of the realms and their boundaries. It allows an easier passage, sometimes unintended. Gravity shifts, voids sometimes open… It only occurs once every five-thousand years and this is the first since I took my place as Asgard's gatekeeper."

Cora tilted her head a little as she peered at the stars beyond the BiFrost's window panes. "Is it visible?"

Heimdall chuckled. "To some, yes. Do you see it?" Cora shook her head. "Do not let that bother you. Very few can."

"What does it look like?"

He smirked. "What makes you think I can see it?" After she gave him a pointed look, he laughed and said, "It is chaotic. But it is beautiful chaos."

"Will you get fired for straightforwardness or something?"

"Just as you would for not being—as your people say—a smart-ass."

Cora was caught entirely off-guard for a moment before she cracked up laughing, that having been among the last things she would have ever expected the uprightly formal gatekeeper to say. Heimdall laughed some, too, his smirk lingering afterward when he turned back to the sky. She followed his gaze and asked more seriously, 

"Do you think she's okay?" Cora had walked up at the tail-end of Thor's conversation with Heimdall just before Thor had left for Midgard immediately when Heimdall noticed something was wrong with who she’d put together was Thor’s girlfriend, Jane.

"I do not know; I simply know I cannot see her. And that means she is not in Midgard."

"How could she have left the realm?" Cora wondered before answering her own question. "Do you think it has to do with the Convergence, too?"

"I know not, but the prince will find her," Heimdall said with confidence. "And he will be back soon enough."

Cora nodded and spent a while longer talking to Heimdall about the stars and other realms before going back to the palace, running into Sif almost immediately after crossing through the glistening foyer. Word had spread around the palace by then about Thor's departure, though Cora wasn't sure why Sif looked a little cross. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at Cora, a bit startled. "Oh, yes, why?"

"You don't look very happy about something."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're kind of pacing," Cora said pointedly and Sif stopped in her tracks, looking a little sheepish. They stood in somewhat awkward silence a moment before Cora suggested, "Wanna do some training?"

Lady Sif let out a breath and smiled faintly; it always struck her how much Cora seemed to understand her. "Absolutely."

Sif was helping Cora perfect her form while wielding a sword when they saw the familiar bolt of raw energy connect with the BiFrost terminal, which signaled Thor's return. Cora looked toward Sif, who had paused to watch as well before the goddess of war returned to what she'd been saying about squaring one's shoulders. When Thor passed by around ten minutes later, he was with a petite woman in skinny jeans, boots, and a grey jacket with a scarf around her neck.

Cora's eyes widened at that—those were Midgardian clothes. So she was the girl he was missing? They hadn't gotten more of a chance to talk, but Frigga had mentioned her and that her name was Jane Foster. Cora had heard the name maybe once in a segment on the New Mexico incident, but only knew she was a scientist and she ran in the same circles as Erik Selvig, who had given a lecture at her university a handful of years ago.

She might've said hello, but they looked like they were in some kind of hurry and instead when Jane looked over at them in the courtyard, Cora just flashed a quick smile. When she looked back at Sif, she arched a brow before realizing what was really going on. "You like him."

Sif glanced at her with an arch to her brow. "Of course, he is my friend. We've fought and feasted many a time together."

"No, I mean you like him."

She squinted a little. "What are you implying exactly?"

Cora elaborated, "Do you see him as more than a friend?"

Sif paused and sighed, glancing toward the hall before taking up her own training sword again. "It is complicated…"

"Try me," Cora suggested as she blocked one of Sif's swings, her movements more fluid after a fair amount of practice.

Sif smiled approvingly at her block before trying again with a more underhanded attack. "His mother approved the match, his father more than approves…," she murmured with a frown. "I suppose I just thought my future was laid out for me. And now it's simply not and it's by his own choice. I do not want him to do anything against his wishes, but I also worry for his heart."

"Because in around a hundred years…," Cora began with a small frown as they did some footwork.

Sif nodded. "Exactly. And it pains me to think how much that will hurt him." She paused in their practice fight, leaning against the training sword after planting the tip in the ground. "I…also never figured I would be jealous of a mortal."

Cora frowned faintly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Sif shook her head, "No… In a way, I am glad you did. It has clarified things for me somewhat."

She smiled a little and nodded. "Okay. If you ever want to talk, just let me know, all right? I'm a good listener."

Sif smiled. "Thank you, I am sure I will take you up on that some time. Perhaps multiple times," she said with a laugh.

"No worries, it's a limitless offer," Cora reassured her. "We'll pick this up later, okay? I'm starving."

"Sounds good, I will see you later," she said lightheartedly, taking the training sword from Cora and putting them away before going inside the palace. Cora was soon to follow and headed to the dining hall to get something to eat. She briefly considered going to talk to Loki, but decided she would do that later; Frigga had mentioned going to see him around this time and she didn't want to interrupt.

Armor clanked and roars sounded throughout the dungeons as the Warriors Three and a few other soldiers in Asgard's golden plating escorted in new prisoners, one a beastly creature and looking quite formidable. Loki only briefly wondered why he was putting up so little fight, however he quickly disregarded the creature to glance over the others as they filed through. "Odin continues to bring me new friends… How thoughtful."

"The books I sent, do they not interest you?" Frigga asked curiously, wondering what she could do to make this easier. Perhaps a different genre or something different altogether. Parchment to write or sketch upon? They had been talking for a short while now and, while he'd been a bit more amiable, he was still sarcastic and cold.

"Is that how I'm to wile away eternity?" Loki drawled as he turned around, an arch to his brow. "Reading?"

Frigga pursed her lips briefly in an expression of maternal disapproval he knew rather well by this time. "I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki," she reminded him gently.

Loki sneered. "Have you? Does Odin share your concern?" he asked mockingly. "Does Thor? It must be so inconvenient, them asking after me day and night…"

Frigga sighed. "You know full well that your actions have brought you here."

"My actions…" Loki paced like a lion simply waiting for an opportunity to break the bars of his lowly cage. "I was merely giving truth to the lie that I've been fed my entire life. That I was born to be a king."

"A king?" Frigga repeated. "A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Earth?"

Loki sighed silently. It always came back to Earth, the pathetic race… Weaklings, all. And yet Frigga and Cora's coupled disappointment in him were beginning to shift his opinions on the war he'd waged. The tiniest fragments of guilt were beginning to splinter into his certainty. "A mere handful compared to the numbers Odin has taken, himself."

"Your father—" Frigga began, but never got a chance to finish.

Loki's reaction to the two simple words was explosive. "He's not my father!" he yelled back at her angrily, though Frigga looked into his vivid emerald eyes and saw hurt beneath the hate.

She paused before reluctantly asking, "Then am I not your mother?"

Loki hesitated visibly and he calculated his answer, running through every possibility before arriving at simply the only thing he could say and remain resolute in his anger and bitterness. The only thing that would keep his words of Odin not being his father true and keep him cold to all who tried to warm him. "You're not," he said in a quieter tone and though, technically, this was true, the words felt like acid on his tongue.

It physically pained him to see how Frigga—his mother, no matter what he said—stopped and still made efforts to smile at him although her eyes glistened with tears. "Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself," she said softly as she held her hands out to him.

Loki looked at her and then down at her hands, his warring emotions written across his face as he could no longer help himself. He stepped forward and moved to place his hands in hers, but they passed through and the illusion dissipated before his eyes. When she'd faded completely, he pursed his lips and looked down, sighing heavily before going to sit against the wall, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

He remained like that for an uncertain amount of time before he heard someone coming down the stairs and opened his eyes lazily to see Cora on the other side of the shimmering prison wall. "And what do you want?" he asked in a grumble.

"To partake in your unmatched, uplifting company," Cora tossed sarcastically back, making him smirk faintly as she sat down on the ledge on the other side of the wall, matching his sitting position. Had the prison barrier not been there, they would've been side-by-side, he noted. Then again, she probably would've also tried to push him over, given his attitude. She simply wasn't afraid of him. She never had been, but he'd figured she would be terrified of him, at least hate him, after everything that had happened since they'd met. Yet, here she was. "Are you just going to stare at me?"

"What would you rather I do?" he asked in a daring tone and she rolled her eyes at him, giving a disgruntled sound as he smirked and looked away.

He grimaced when he heard her begin to ask slowly, "Where were you? Before New York, I mean… From what I hear, it all happened over the course of a few days. What were you doing before that?"

"Assembling an army, what do you think?" he asked in a rhetorical, bored manner.

"Loki, cut it out," she murmured frustratedly and he looked over at her again to find her looking down at her hands in her lap. A crease formed between his brows. She tended to do that when she was genuinely upset. Well, why would she not be? You killed her kind. "I'm serious. What made you do this?"

"Being scorned from succession, I suppose," he murmured.

She looked up and made eye contact with him, genuinely surprised when he didn't look away. "It wasn't just that and we both know it," she murmured. "You've changed. Immensely. And I worry about you."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because it seems like someone messed with your head. A lot."

Loki's eye twitched very faintly. So faintly, Cora nearly didn't notice. Memories of pain, torture of all kinds, pain again, and sheer agony of soul and body flashed through his mind and sent chills through his blood. "And what if someone did?" he said very quietly, but while retaining his calm, searching her eyes.

"I'll kick their ass," she muttered tersely and that was enough to make him lose his composure and glance away, a smirk cracking across his lips as he chuckled softly. Cora smiled at seeing that, her features softening as she looked at him. She hadn't missed the look on his face before he'd answered her and now she knew at least part of who he was now had been forced into him by something terrible. The rest was bitterness.

He looked over at her and saw her smiling at him, but seconds later, a guard walked down to patrol and looked over at her. "What brings you down here?" he asked sternly and the look on Cora's face before she turned her head to regard the soldier made Loki laugh.

"The scenic views, what else," Cora murmured as the guard gave up and walked off, seeing as she wasn't causing any trouble and he had a round to do. She looked over at Loki and smiled briefly. "I'll see you later," she told him as she stood up to go, not wanting to cause unwanted suspicion or anger the armed guard.

Loki watched her go before glancing down at his hand, retracting it from the prison glass. His fingertips were reddened with faint burns from where he'd begun to press his hand subconsciously against its harmful golden surface. Shaking his head at himself, he stood and walked over, languidly lying down on the cream lounge chair his mother had provided, snatching a decorative tumbler from the table nearby and hurling it up into the air, catching it nimbly.

He could remember what her small hand had felt like in his and he could remember how he'd clung to that memory while bleeding against jagged rocks, Chitauri slithering through the darkness around him. She kept him sane and what a feat that had proven to be.

Not an hour had passed and Cora was just looking for Frigga to tell her about the progress she felt she'd made with Loki when she ran into Sif instead. "Sif, have you seen Frigga anywhere?"

"Not that I can recall, last I saw her was hours ago before she stole away to speak to Loki." She uttered the name with some distaste and Cora could understand why, though she didn't share her feelings. After all, with the trouble and misery Loki had caused Thor and Frigga, both, Sif was well within her rights to loathe him on their behalf. "Something is wrong with the human woman Thor brought back."

"I know you're not happy about her, but—"

"No, Cora, I mean something is wrong. That is why she's here," Sif insisted, troubled.

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, frowning.

"A relic has taken hold of her as a host, though Odin thought it impossible. It is an ancient power called the Aether," she explained grimly. "It was never supposed to be within a living being's reach again, but with the Convergence… It was some strange twist of chance that she stumbled through a void which led her to it."

"Is she going to be okay?"

Sif shrugged. "I do not know. No one seems to know. Thor is terribly worried though he doesn't show it… Then again, how could he not be?"

"But what exactly does it—" Cora stopped speaking when a rumble sounded from through the floor. She frowned and murmured, "…Did you hear that?"

Sif nodded and glanced around, her eyes widening as guards began to flood toward the dungeon stairway. "Stay here," she said urgently to Cora as she hurried to see if she could help.

Cora was left in the hall, nervously watching more and more guardsmen run to the stairs as the noises grew and an inhuman roar split the air from below. She stood by a few moments before going to find Frigga with even more urgency, at least until she heard a strange, but faint, metallic moan from outside. She hurried to a window, her hands catching the sill as she peered out, paling at the sight of an enormous black ship which resembled a fang careened toward the water, not because it was crashing…

But because an entire fleet was appearing in its wake.

Next chapter: Chapter 19, "Sacrifice"

[buckybarnesdollface]

Throttle

Summary:  Just some shameless Bucky on a motorbike smut. Probably one of my favourite things I've written. Posting it on my birthday because why not. 

Warnings: SHAMELESS SMUT, Bucky on a motorbike, female reader       

           “Tony has a ridiculous amount of cars, does he realize that?” I grumbled as Natasha parked the Range Rover. She chuckled.

           “Don’t tell him that – He’ll give you a lecture about why each and every one of them is special and important to him.”

           I snorted as we made our way through the underground garage at the compound. We had just returned from gathering intel in the city, and as we passed the rows of Aston Martins, Lamborghinis, Ferraris and other ridiculously pricey vehicles I shook my head. My eyes landed on a sleek, black Honda CBR600RR, though, and I stopped.

           “Now this,” I murmured, “I like.” I looked up at Natasha. “Whose bike is this?”

           “That’s Barnes’,” she replied, but before I could get a closer look, she grabbed my wrist and shook her head. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He won’t let anyone touch that bike – Sometimes I think he cares about it even more than he does Steve.”

           I arched a brow. “Is that so?”

           “Yes. Seriously, he’s really weird about that bike –”

           “We’ll see about that,” I said, and then I was heading to the elevator, Natasha following and spouting warnings at me that I ignored. We found Bucky in the kitchen, looking like he’d just come from the gym as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He looked up as we came in.

           “That’s quite the bike you’ve got down there, Barnes,” I said casually. The corners of his lips quirked up, and his eyes sparkled.

           “You like that, huh?” he murmured, and I nodded, letting my eyes drop so I was looking up at him through my eyelashes.

           “I do,” I admitted, and then a slow smirk spread over my face. “I’ve always been a sucker for a sleek motorbike. There’s nothing better than the feel of all that power between your legs.”

           Behind me, I could hear Natasha cough to cover the fact that she’d just choked on the air she’d inhaled. Bucky’s blue eyes darkened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He cocked his head to the side, grinning.

           “I’ll tell you what, doll,” he murmured, coming forward until his body had not-so-subtly caged me between him and the island. “How about sometime I show you the bike? If you’re lucky, I might even let you take it for a spin.”

           “I’d love that,” I purred. He smirked, winking before he slipped out of the kitchen. Once he was gone, I turned to Natasha with one eyebrow arched smugly. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

           “You are shameless,” she grumbled, but my grin only grew wider.

           So that’s how, a few days later, I ended up in the parking garage with Bucky. He ran his flesh hand fondly over the body of the bike, a grin on his face.

           “She’s a beauty,” I admitted, admiring the shiny black frame. “Can I…?”

           “Go ahead, touch it,” Bucky urged, eyes glittering. I shot him a wry look before running my fingertips delicately over the sleek frame. I circled the bike, examining it, impressed with its pristine shape despite the situations I was sure Bucky’d had it in. I said this aloud, and he grinned. “I take real good care of it,” he admitted. “I’m always buffing out scratches and keeping the paint touched up and polishing it.” His grin was wolfish. “I like to take good care of anything that belongs to me. You treat them well, they treat you well.”

           I felt my lips quirk up as my hand slid across the smooth leather seat. Bucky and I had been playing this game for months now, flirting and feeding the sexual tension between us, but we’d never actually done anything about it. It was driving everyone on the team insane, and I knew for a fact some of them had a pool going on when Bucky and I would actually hook up. That alone was enough to have me holding out as long as I could.

           “How’s it handle?” I asked. Bucky smirked.

           “Extremely well.”

           “Even the curves?”

           “Especially the curves, doll,” he purred, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I looked up to meet his eyes.

           “How’s it sound?” I asked him, and he inclined his head.

           “Start it up and see for yourself.”

           Biting my lip, I flipped the kill switch and turned the key, and then held down the start button. The bike rumbled to life, and I grinned delightedly. I looked over at Bucky, and he gave me a quick nod, lips quirking. I threw my right leg over the bike to straddle it, impressed with how comfortable the seat was.

           “Go ahead and give the throttle a little twist, doll,” he encouraged, and my hands found the handlebars. My right hand twisted the grip towards me just the slightest bit and the engine roared, bike rumbling beneath me and sending vibrations through my body. I hummed appreciatively.

           “How’s that feel?” Bucky murmured.

           “Amazing,” I breathed. “How do I look?”

           Bucky’s eyes raked over me, muscle in his jaw twitching as his arms folded across his broad chest. “Better than should be legal,” he admitted, voice low. “Christ, doll, you look like a teenage boy’s wet dream right now.”

           I smirked. “Does that mean you’ll let me ride the bike?” I asked coyly, and Bucky chuckled.

           “I did promise you could take it for a spin, didn’t I?” he sighed, and I nodded.

           “You did. No take-backs.”

           With a grin, Bucky slid onto the seat behind me, hands on my waist as he leaned in so that his mouth was at my ear. His breath was hot as he spoke. “I’ll let you take it for a quick ride,” he breathed, “but when I say, we switch. There’s somewhere I wanna take you.”

           I wrinkled my nose. “Where?”

           “It’s a surprise.” His teeth nipped playfully at my earlobe, and I shivered. I nodded in agreement, and then kicked up the kickstand and put the bike in gear, slowly releasing the clutch and twisting the throttle. I couldn’t keep the grin from my face as we drove the bike out of the compound and out onto the open road.

           It was exhilarating, the feel of the warm summer New York air whipping around us as we sped down the two-lane road leading away from the compound. I could feel Bucky, warm and solid behind me, his hands firm on my waist. We drove for ten minutes, but then his flesh hand squeezed my side, signalling it was time to switch. Sighing, I reluctantly pulled onto the shoulder of the road and moved so Bucky could mount the bike.

           I stood back for a minute, biting my lip, and Bucky looked up at me with a dark eyebrow cocked.

           “What are you doing?” he asked.

           “Admiring the view,” I replied truthfully. The way his thick thighs hugged the frame of the bike was damn near sinful. Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

           “Get over here,” he said, and I grinned before climbing onto the bike behind him and winding my arms around his waist. “Hold on tight, doll,” he ordered. “I like to go fast.”

           He wasn’t kidding, either; we flew down the road until the trees we passed were just a green blur. He took the curves with a finesse I only wished I had, and I could feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten and contract every time he leaned his body with the bike.

           After about twenty minutes we pulled onto a smaller side road, and then another five minutes had us pulling up to a pristine little lake. Bucky stopped the bike, shutting it off and putting down the kickstand. I slid off the bike and looked around in awe.

           “This place is beautiful,” I breathed. “How did you know it was here?”

           Bucky shrugged. “I found it one day on a drive. I come here sometimes, to get away.”

           I nodded, taking it all in. It was breathtaking, like a little slice of paradise. I could understand why he would come here to get away.

           Things were silent for a few moments, both of us just enjoying the view and the late summer sunshine. I climbed back onto the bike, where the sun had warmed the leather and black frame. Bucky looked up and cocked an eyebrow.

           “You just can’t stay off that thing, can you?” he taunted, and I shrugged.

           “It’s warm from the sun. It’s nice.”

           “You’re like a damn cat,” Bucky chuckled, and I hummed in response. I closed my eyes, hands braced on the seat behind me as I leaned back, head tilted towards the warmth from the sun’s rays. Bucky was uncharacteristically quiet, and I peeked over at him out of the corner of my eye to see that he had his phone raised. My brow furrowed.

           “Did you just take a picture of me?” I asked.

           “Yes,” he answered shamelessly. “The opportunity was too perfect not to. I’d be crazy not to capture my two best girls in front of such a beautiful backdrop.”

           My heart did a flip in my chest, and I sat up straighter. “Best girls?” I asked, and Bucky shrugged. I shook my head. “Last time I checked, Barnes, I wasn’t your girl.”

           “Aren’t you, though?” he murmured, coming to stand next to the bike. “I mean, the rest of the team already pretty much assumes you are.” The fingertips of his flesh hand traced along the subframe of the bike, dangerously close to the inside of my thigh, and I held my breath. “Plus, I wouldn’t have let anyone else ride this thing, and you know it.” He leaned in close, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Besides,” he whispered, “you know I’d break the jaw of any guy that even looked at you the wrong way, the same way I know you’d tear a strip off any girl that set her sights on me.”

           My breath hitched, and my tongue swept over my lips. “Bucky…” I whispered, and his grin was lazy as his flesh hand trailed down my leg over my jeans.

           “Tell me you’re my girl,” he murmured. “You know it’s true. I wanna hear you say it.”

           I bit my lip. Of course I knew it was true; I’d been his for months, whether the words had been spoken or not. But I was scared to say it, to put an end to this game and make it reality. The flirting and teasing were harmless, but to admit I was his girl felt like an admission that was too dangerous to commit to.

           I thought back to what he’d said earlier. “I like to take good care of anything that belongs to me.” It had been meant as an innuendo, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I really had been his girl this whole time. All the late nights at the gym when we couldn’t sleep, the early breakfasts afterwards, the secret smiles, the way he always gravitated towards me during missions…

           I swallowed hard, lifting my eyes to his. “I’m your girl,” I said softly, and the grin that overtook Bucky’s face was like a kid at Christmas. He cupped my face gently, thumb tugging at my bottom lip.

           “That’s right,” he murmured. “Now, I want you to tell me what you want.”

           “For you to say you’re just as much mine as I am yours,” I said boldly, and Bucky’s eyes sparkled.

           “You know I’m yours, doll,” he chuckled. I smirked.

           “Does that mean the bike is mine, too, by default?”

           Something dark flashed through Bucky’s eyes as a wicked grin slowly lifted his lips. “Not how it works and you know it.” His metal hand reached out to start the bike, flesh hand tucking a loose curl behind my ear. The bike hummed beneath me. “But,” he continued, “I do like how damn good you look on it, and I know you said you liked the feel of all that power between your legs. So I think you’re really gonna like this.”

           Bucky’s vibranium hand twisted the throttle, and the bike roared. I don’t know if it was because Bucky already had me strung out, but the feel of the engine revving underneath me had waves of pleasure jolting through me. I fell forward, hands on the fuel tank to brace myself, as my eyes drifted shut. Bucky twisted the throttle again, this time a little harder, and a whimper fell from my lips as the bike vibrated beneath me.

           “Look at you,” Bucky marvelled, voice hoarse. “How’s it feel, having all that power between your legs, doll?”

           I forced my eyes open and over at him. “Feels pretty damn good,” I admitted, “but I can think of something that would feel a hell of a lot better between my legs.”

           Bucky’s jaw went slack, and then he was shutting off the bike and lifting my right leg to pull it across the seat so both legs hung off the left side of the bike and he could fit between them. Vibranium hand on my thigh, his flesh hand reached around the back of my neck to pull my lips to his.

           The kiss was hungry, all teeth and tongues and noses bumping against each other. My hands clutched at Bucky’s arms, and when his lips left mine to trail down my jaw and nip teasingly at the skin at my pulse point, I trembled.

           “Bucky…” I whined, and he pulled back to look at me with hooded eyes.

           “I got you,” he murmured, and then his hands were deftly unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans, tugging them and my lace underwear from my hips and peeling them off my legs. He hooked my right leg over the handlebar of the bike, and then his lips captured mine in another searing kiss, his flesh hand slipping between us to explore my folds. I groaned into the kiss, and I felt Bucky grin against my lips.

           “So wet already, sweetheart,” he breathed. “This what you had in mind when you said you could think of something better?”

           “Not exactly,” I huffed, biting my lip as Bucky’s fingertips pressed against my clit. He smirked, and then he was kneeling in front of me, hands on my thighs to hold me open to him.

           “How about now?” he murmured, before diving in and licking a stripe up my folds, from my entrance to my clit. I cried out, hands flying to his head to tangle in his hair. His lips wrapped around my clit and sucked as the tip of his tongue danced around the bundle of nerves, and already I was so close to falling off the edge, eyes screwed shut and chest heaving.

           “Buck…” I panted, nails scraping against his scalp. He grunted, and I tugged harder at his hair, losing patience. “Barnes.”

           His eyes flicked up, and I lost my breath; his pupils were blown, tongue still delved into my folds as he regarded me from between my thighs. It was the most sinful thing I’d ever seen, and it sent a fresh flood of heat straight to my core.

           “Come here,” I whispered, and in an instant he was up and kissing me. I could taste myself on his tongue as he swiped it across my own tongue, and when my hands started undoing his belt buckle, he growled.

           “Turn around,” he demanded, “and lean against the bike.”

           I did as he said without question, hopping off the leather seat and turning to bend my body over it, wiggling my ass playfully. Bucky delivered a sharp smack to the flesh and I shrieked, another wave of heat flooding my core. I could hear him unzipping his jeans, and then his knee was sliding between my thighs to spread them further. He slapped my ass again, immediately soothing the stinging flesh by massaging it. I could practically feel my arousal dripping down my thighs.

           “Is this what you wanted, doll?” he asked, sliding the tip of his cock through my soaked folds. I moaned, hands clutching the seat below me. “You said you liked powerful things between your legs. Let’s see how you handle this.”

           With one forceful thrust he was sheathed inside me. I gasped as he stretched and filled me in a way I never had been before, and he let out a quiet hiss between gritted teeth as my walls clenched around him. He only gave me a moment to adjust before he was pulling out just to force himself back in. It didn’t take long before he’d set an unforgiving pace, driving into me until the air was filled with the sound of flesh on flesh. The grip he had on my hips was bruising, sure to leave marks, but it only added to the pleasure I was feeling; I knew he’d mark me all over if I let him, claiming me as his for everyone to know. His possessiveness should have bothered me, but it only made me want him more.

           Bucky’s thrusts started getting sloppier and he fell forward, chest pressed to my back as his flesh hand slipped under my shirt to palm at my breasts over my bra. His lips nipped and kissed at the back of my neck, and I felt my release drawing near.

           “Shit…” I whined, and Bucky’s mouth left sloppy kisses over my heated flesh.

           “Let go, doll,” he panted. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

           I chased my release, and when it finally came, I cried out, body tensing before going boneless against the bike. Bucky’s hips stuttered and then I could feel him spilling into me with a low groan. He let his weight relax against me for a handful of seconds before he was lifting off me. With a tiny groan I pushed up off the bike, reaching for my clothes to pull them back on. Bucky grinned at me as he buckled his belt.

           “I think I finally found a sound I like better than my bike’s engine,” he teased, and my eyes sparkled.

           “And I think I’ve finally found something I’m gonna like riding more than your bike.”

           With glittering eyes, Bucky caught me around the waist and pulled me to him to kiss me softly. When we broke apart, his thumb traced lightly over my lips.

           “I know we joke around a lot,” he murmured, “but it really would mean a lot to me if you were my girl, (Y/N).”

           “I am your girl, Buck,” I assured him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “You know I always have been.”

           Bucky’s smile was warm, and he nudged me back towards the bike. “C’mon, let’s get back.”

           When we got back to the compound, Bucky parked the bike and then we headed to the elevator. I slipped my hand into his, and he looked down, eyes rounded in surprise, before squeezing my fingers gently and smiling.

           We walked into the common room, still hand-in-hand. Steve was the first to notice, and his eyes widened before a slow smirk spread across his face.

           “Alright, everyone, pay up,” he announced, and everyone’s eyes landed on Bucky and I. Nat and Sam shook their heads as they dug into their wallets, and Tony and Clint groaned. Wanda was grinning as she handed Steve a few bills.      

           Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

           “They all had a pool on when you and I would finally hook up,” I replied with a shrug. Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

           “What –”

           I set a hand against his chest to calm him. “Easy, big guy,” I chuckled. “Why don’t you just forget about this, and come upstairs with me? I didn’t get to return the favour from earlier.”

           Bucky’s eyes darkened, and the common room was filled with groans of annoyance.

           “Just because y’all are doing the dirty now, doesn’t mean you have to be public about it,” Sam grumbled. Bucky’s eyes flicked over to him for just a second before returning to me.

           “I apologize to everyone in advance,” he murmured to the room without breaking from my gaze. “Turns out my bike isn’t the only one that gets loud when you turn her on.”

           “Bucky!” I gasped, cheeks hot and eyes rounded in horror. Before anyone could say anything, Bucky was dragging me out of the room and to the elevator, lips grinning against my throat. I pushed him off me, fixing an unconvincing glare on him. “You’re incorrigible,” I huffed.

           “You know you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

           Hard as I tried, I couldn’t maintain the glare. “Oh, fuck it,” I muttered, crashing my lips to his. When I pulled away, I was smirking. “Take me upstairs; I wanna see if the biker holds up as well as his bike.”

           “Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, wicked smirk on his face. “I can go all night and into the morning.”

           I grinned. “Good. Let’s go then, soldier; your girl’s in the mood for a long ride.”

[ackasamii--archive]

if you love him

summary: armin is ready to let you go but are you?

pairing: armin arlert x black!fem reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a little angst and fluff

note: had this idea one day and decided to post it. hope you like it because this one is close to my heart. title inspired by this song.

“Where’s y/n?” Something Armin Arlert heard a lot the past four years. This time it was Connie asking while glancing around to see if he could spot her.

“Probably with Onyankopon again.” Sasha answered easily while lying lazily in a chair. “Honestly surprised she hasn’t been caught by Hange or Levi yet, she should stop while she’s ahead.”

Jean scoffed, “We all know she’s into him, I don’t know why she’s still sneaking around.”

“You know y/n, she’s always kept to herself, kind of like Mikasa, but more discreet about it.” Connie shrugged.

Said girl narrowed her eyes at the buzzcut male, “More discreet?”

His heart twisted at every passing second while listening to them talk. There was one thing they were right about; you really did keep to yourself. And that’s what initially drawled him towards you.

It was the way you were always silent during conversation amongst friends and enjoying being around the people you were most comfortable with. How the quiet smile appeared on your lips whenever Jean or Connie made some stupid joke. Or the way Armin was captured by every word whenever you do speak, which was a rarity in itself. There was just something about you that kept his eyes always looking for you in a crowd. And sometimes they would meet for the briefest second before you quickly looked away to something else.

Then there was your skin. It was different from everyone else’s. Even Eren’s and Ymir’s. Your complexion had the sun smiling at you whenever it was out. Standing out amongst a sea of people, making you beautifully unique in his eyes.

It was easy to see that you wouldn’t fit with someone like him. Weak and useless Armin. You deserve someone strong and bold like Jean. Maybe outgoing and funny like Connie. Or maybe someone who could relate to you the most.

Like Onyankopon.

It was when the first came to Paradis Island. The moment your eyes landed on him; you were in awe. How was it that a stranger, a Marleyan, was able to capture your attention in seconds when he’s known you ever since they first started in the Survey Corps?

And just like that you’ve been sneaking out at night and coming back in the early hours of the morning with a soft smile on your lips. Yes, he’s noticed. He’s noticed how much happier you’ve become whenever you’d come back from your nightly adventures. He hated it. He hated that it couldn’t be him that made you smile like that.

Such a beautiful smile.

“She’ll tell us when she wants to.” Armin forced himself to say. He hid his heartbreak. He hid because at the end of the day, what he felt didn’t matter. Especially in a time of war.

War. Whoever said war was kind must’ve been out of their damned minds.

“Nothing we can do about it,” Mikasa shrugged, “it’s her own fault if she gets caught.”

Connie suddenly cleared his throat loudly, “Speaking of!” Armin along with everyone else turned their heads to find you entering the room, eyes slightly widened in surprise and curiosity. “Now where’ve you been, young lady?!”

You roll your eyes, “I went for a walk, mind your business.”

It was one of those brief seconds again. Where his and your eyes connected. Almost as if it were a puzzle finding its place.

This time he looked away.

“Shouldn’t you all be asleep?” you asked while leaning on the armchair Sasha was sitting in. “You know how the captain gets when we make noise past curfew.”

“We should say the same for you,, dummy.” Jean flicked her forehead.

You smack his hand, “Whatever. Do what you want, don’t get mad if Levi makes you do extra chores in the morning.”

She’s more talkative, Armin noticed. He wondered if anyone else realized this as well. If they did, they sure didn’t mind it much.

Not long after, everyone else decided to follow your lead and head to bed, not wanting to face the wrath of their strict superior in the morning to come. And as usual, Armin would lay away at night, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

He’d think about Eren and where he’s gone. He’d think about everyone else’s mental sanity through all of this, especially with this dangerous plan they had when they got to Marley. But tonight your face couldn’t stop appearing in his mind.

So much so, he dreamed of what your lips would feel like against his.

While simultaneously fighting off a growing resentment towards the Marleyan.

Next morning they received another letter from Eren. Which meant more developments in their plan. Which also meant more exhaustingly long meetings with Hange and the others. Those were the days he got to see you a lot more.

Sneaking glances your way, smiling despite himself whenever your eyes met.

Actually, it was happening a lot often now that Armin thought about it. Today he even caught you looking at him! It was strange and quite confusing considering your secret situation with Onyankopon.

Then night came. Armin hadn’t returned to the quarters yet as he was finishing up with Hange. Sometimes they could get a bit too carried away and he’d be patient enough to wait until she was finished. But once he was finally free, Armin pulled at his tie and left his white shirt unbuttoned.

He didn’t walk back to the quarters. Instead, he walked along the beach he and the others found years ago.

The ocean.

It was still beautiful no matter how many times he laid his eyes on it.

No matter how much it pained him to know what was coming on the other side.

He didn’t mean to.

No, he really didn’t.

But Armin just happened to turn his head and see you leave the tent Onyankopon was staying in. There was something within him that grew to the point where he felt reckless.

You stopped in your tracks, worried that you might’ve been caught when someone called your name. But when you glanced behind you, it was only Armin.

His kind features released the tension from your body as you fully turned to the male slowly approaching you.

You never knew what to do around him. How to act, how to talk. Armin Arlert had to be the most intelligent member of Levi’s squad and with that title came intimidation.

Not only that but he was far too pretty to be talking to someone like you. To even notice you. And so you only stared at your shaking hands, hoping your darkened skin could hide the warm feeling spreading across your face. If not your skin, please let the night protect you.

“What are you doing out here?” You finally ask carefully.

His blue eyes, similar to the large body of water, stared at you with an intensity you could not understand. In fact he always did. For years you never knew why he looked at you this way. Was it because of how you looked? How dark your skin was? Sure, you were most definitely used to that. Along with the whispers and the judgment.

But he held none of that. It was something else entirely. Something that had you shift on your toes and made your stomach do endless flips.

Now he was standing close. Not too close that you were uncomfortable with. But closer than he usually stood near anyone.

And then he whispers.

“Does he at least love you?”

You simply stared at him, now in confusion, “Who?”

“Onyankopon”

His heart was practically ready to leave his chest at that very moment. What had come over him? It’s like as soon as he saw you leave that tent, all signs of rational and reason had left him. And before he knew it, he had called your name, and now here you were. Standing before each other.

Ready to accept—

“What makes you think that?”

The question had thrown him off. Armin studied your face, seeing the confusion written all over it. A small part of him thought you adorable with the way you scrunched up your brows matched with the little frown on your face.

There he goes wishing for something out of his reach.

“It’s just that...” He hesitated to continue, the recklessness slowly leaving him. “you seem happier whenever you come back from seeing him...”

He had to look away from you. Find anything else he could look at but your face at this moment. So, instead he looked at the ocean and the words began to spill.

“And that’s all I’ve wanted for you. To see you smile, to see you happy. Even in a time where all things seem hopeless. When things seem impossible to achieve...like you.” He heard a quick gasp and continued before he regretted everything, “With everything unfolding, the titans, the Marleyans, this war, Eren—everything in my world is slowly crumbling before me. So, I search for you. I find you because you are my warmth, because you are my hope, and my motivation. In my dreams we’re free. And sometimes you’re there with me.” He closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay while clenching and unclenching his hands, “If you love him—”

“I don’t!”

Armin opened his eyes.

Seeing you crying was the saddest thing he’s ever witnessed. His body moved before his mind could process.

Suddenly his world was in his hands as he wiped the rebellious tears away.

You gripped onto his wrist while trying to calm down. Damn. You hadn’t planned to cry in front of him. Then again you hadn’t planned to hear any of that.

“It’s not him I love.”

You felt him freeze but never move his hands from the sides of your head. It was comforting, like a warm blanket.

After you’ve calmed down, you spoke in a more controlled voice, “I was an orphan before coming to the corps. I was the only person who looked different. There was no one that looked like...me. And I was alone. Being the outsider. Being the one to stand out when I just wanted to disappear in the sea of people.

And then I joined the Survey Corps where many people all over would be. Still, I was the only me among them. But it was different. I made friends, I didn’t see the judgment or rejection, not from them, not from you. I was happy, but the feeling of loneliness remained with me until...”

“Onyankopon.” Armin finished as realization crossed his features.

You nodded, “I can’t tell you how happy I was to see him. I wanted to cry right then and there. So, yes, I started sneaking out to see him. To learn about myself and hope that there were more people out there that looked like me. I wanted to know if my family was still out there if there was still hope. And he gave it to me. Something to hope for and the confidence to one day confess to the man I love.”

A smile reached your lips as you caught Armin’s own tears. His head leaned against yours as he closed his eyes.

“I didn’t feel—”

“Worthy? Me neither.”

There it was again. The same intensity in his eyes. Although this time, you knew what this was. You should’ve known sooner as he pulled you closer.

And he whispered, just a feather away from your lips, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He was gentle against your lips and slow as if he were taking his time to soak in your warmth and taste. His strong desire for you showed more through his body as one hand cupped your cheek with his thumb brushing below your eyes and his other pulled you closer to him where his warmth engulfed you, comforted you, and held you lovingly.

Finally.

Oh how you yearned to stay like this forever. Breathing in his scent, running your hand through his soft blond hair, and listening to him murmur against your ear about how much he loved you.

That night stayed with you as the war went on.

You would have Onyankopon to thank after the words exchanged between the two of you the night before. Why you were more talkative and happier.

“Onyan?”

The man looked up from his work and smiled gently at the nickname you’ve given him over time.

“Yeah, y/n?”

You pick at the wooden table in deep thought with a small frown on your face. He noticed the change in your mood the moment you entered his tent that night. But knowing you, constantly asking questions would not allow you to open up.

He learned to simply wait.

“Do you think I can be loved?”

Onyankopon stared at you for a moment.

“Why would you ask something like that.”

You sighed, “No, what I mean...it’s not like I’m the ideal type, you know?”

He raised a slick brow, “What’s this about?” Before you could reply he had already figured it out, “Oh wait, it’s about that one kid, isn’t it?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, that one kid.”

He chuckled and leaned on the table to look you in the eyes, “Do you love him?”

You didn’t respond.

“Ah,” The man rubbed his chin with a growing smirk, “Have you told him yet?”

“Are you crazy? Of course I haven’t!”

“Mmm, I think I’m quite sane, thank you.” He smirked. “We live in an unpredictable world, kiddo. You never know what’s going to happen next. You could die knowing you never told someone you loved them. Maybe they needed to hear it and it would be too late.” You stared at him blankly before he sighed, “Okay, let me put it this way. Do you want to die with regrets?”

You frowned, “No, no I don’t.”

Onyankopon nodded, “Then if you love him that much, tell him. Yeah, sure there could be rejection, but it beats having your confession weigh you down when it’s too late.”

You took in his words, knowing that he was right and you had to somehow build up whatever courage in you to just tell him.

Just do it. What could go wrong?

“Really?”

“Yep!”

A small teasing smile reached your lips, “Talking from experience?”

He laughed despite the small stab in his heart.

“Maybe!”

© all content belongs to ackasamii 2021. do not modify or repost.

[nyotamalfoy]

Hellooooo! I sqw your post about wanting requests so how about Logan(Wolverine) with "You're the only one i care about" with fluff please? Also, dont forget to tag your fics as fem!reader if the reader is a girl!❤❤❤

A/N: Sorry for taking this long! I LOVE Logan <3 Hope you like this!

Request: Logan (Wolverine) x fem!Reader (Fluff)  

“You’re the only one I care about.”

(Y/N) could never understand how she managed to catch the eye of someone like Logan. It had been around three years since she met Logan and a year since he had asked her out and it was the most adorable thing ever. You would expect for Logan to be all over it but that wasn’t the case as he was reduced to a stuttering mess as he stood in front of (Y/N) on that fateful night. But needless to say, they were the cutest couple around the mansion and were still going strong.    

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

“Professor?” (Y/N) called out as she knocked on the open door to Professor Charles Xavier’s office.   

“Come in, (Y/N),” He called out. “We were just waiting for you.” He gestured for her to sit down beside Logan who had also been called.   

She had barely sat down when Logan took her hand to hold. When she looked up to his face, he just had his typical grim expression on his face causing her to lightly shake her head with a small hidden smile.  

“I called you both here as I have received an invitation for a charity ball tonight but seeing as I have some errands to run, I will not be able to go. I want you both to attend as representatives of this institute,” Professor Xavier said as (Y/N) and Logan looked at each other with pleasantly surprised expressions, well, Logan looked a little less than pleasant. He hated going to balls and dressing up for that kind of stuff. Even though his dressing up only meant to wear his black leather jacket over a dark-coloured plaid shirt and dark jeans. 

“We would love to, Professor.” (Y/N) cut off Logan before he could even get a word out of his mouth. She knew he would deny it and find a way to slip away but she wasn’t about to let that happen.  

“Excellent! Now, I’ll excuse you both to go and find something suitable to wear. I’ll arrange the transport,” Professor said as he made a ‘shooing’ gesture with his hands.    

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

“Why?” Logan almost whined as they walked into (Y/N)’s room. He plopped down on the bed and looked at her with a pained expression.   

“Because our last date was like a lifetime ago.” (Y/N) said as she walked to him and sat down next to him.   

“Why’re you sitting there?”  

“Just ‘cause.”   

“Come here.” He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her, burying his head in her neck. She put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his.   

“I need to find something to wear, Lo,” Even though (Y/N) said this, she didn’t make any move to get up from her comfortable spot. He was like a warm marshmallow, wrapping her in his warmth.   

After a few moments of silence, she finally decided that if she didn’t get up now, they would never make it to the ball on time. She tried to get off Logan’s lap, but he had a pretty strong hold on her.   

“Lo, we need to go,” She whined as he finally loosed his grip and let her step out.   

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

“Oh, good lord,” Professor Xavier exclaimed as he watched (Y/N) descend the huge staircase with a grace of an angel.  

“What?” Logan asked with a confused voice which soon disappeared as he turned to see what had captured the Professor’s attention. His mouth was slightly parted as he took in the beauty that he proudly called his girl.  

“You might catch some flies if you don’t close your mouth, handsome.” (Y/N) closed his mouth with her pointer and hooked her arm around his.   

“Might I say, darling, you look beautiful,” Professor said, earning a glare from Logan as he didn’t get to compliment (Y/N) first.   

“Thank you, Professor.” (Y/N) smiled with her dark-tinted lips which matched the gown she was wearing.   

“Shall we go now,” Logan asked, getting impatient to end this stupid ball and take (Y/N) to the bedroom.  

“Yes, we shall.” She gave a small curtsy to the Professor before walking with Logan towards the car waiting outside.   

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Logan sat at the huge dining table with an expression that said he would rather be anywhere else in the world than here, among all these fakers. In addition to this, he could hear giggling from a corner of the table, occupied by only high-profile women in their 20s or 30s. They weren’t very secret about it too, with all the staring and not-so-quiet whispering. He tried to ignore them to not give them the satisfaction that he paid them any attention.  

“Hey, (Y/N), how much more time do we have to stay here?” He asked, finally having had enough of the ball.  

“The ball hasn’t even started, Logan.” Just as she said this, the announcement was made that everyone was to move to the ballroom for the dance.  

“Let’s go!” (Y/N) said, excited to dance after a long time confined to the manor. Logan let himself be dragged forward by (Y/N). He had to suppress the grin threatening to creep up his face at this side of (Y/N). She was like a child who was going to the fair and he was sure she would have skipped if it wasn’t for the heels and the gown.  

They took their place near the centre of the room among all the other couples and in a few moments, a beautiful slow song was being played. (Y/N) put her hands on his shoulders with his hands on her waist as they started swaying softly to the music.   

(Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the group of girls huddling outside the circle and pointing at them and whispering. Her insecurities started to resurface as the music continued and she could feel the tears filling her eyes.  

Logan was looking down at (Y/N) the whole length of the song they were swaying to. He wondered how a girl this pretty agreed to be with him. It was like everyone else disappeared when she looked into his eyes and told him that she loved him.   

“I didn’t know you could dance,” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear with a playful smirk on his face.   

She didn’t respond.  

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” He looked at her face properly and saw her glossy eyes as she kept staring into nothingness.  “(Y/N), what-”  

“Why do you love me?” She asked out of the blue, avoiding his gaze.  

“What?” Logan was genuinely confused as to how her mood went from excited-out-of-her-mind to this in a matter of four minutes.  

“There are so many girls out there who look so much prettier than me,” She started with a small voice, “you could have anyone you wanted. Like those girls back there, they look like models with the perfect body and everything. And I’m just…me.” Logan wasn’t surprised that she felt this way because of how she always felt like she wasn’t enough just as she was.  

“Hey, babe, look at me. Those girls, they don’t even come close to comparing to you. You are perfect the way you are, and I couldn’t imagine ever picking someone like them over you.” Logan held her face in his hands as they stopped dancing and continued, “(Y/N), you are one of the funniest and prettiest dames out there that I had the pleasure of meeting. Don’t ever think that you are not enough. You agreeing to be with me was probably the best things that ever happened to me. I love you, (Y/N). You’re the only one I care about.” He wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes as she stared at him with her mouth slightly parted.   

“God, I can’t express in words how much I love you, Logan,” (Y/N) said as she cried and kissed him in front of the whole ballroom full of guests.  

Everyone present in the room, except for some girls who were jealous at their relationship, cheered and started clapping as (Y/N) and Logan touched their foreheads and stayed in each other’s arms for a few more moments just thinking about how lucky they were to have found their true love.  

“You do know that Charles set us up for this, right?”   

“Yep, but does it matter?”  

“No, it does not, doll.”

[king-litchi]

Picture source : @Mnine5 (Meijo) in Twitter

Note : actually, it’s not a request but I was bored and I wondered « what kind of person would the SNK characters on the social medias be » - soo here we go

Sorry for my english…I am french and I still learning - please forgive me and protect your eyes 🤧

Warning : (12+) social media can be dangerous

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN ON SOCIAL MEDIA 💥

Eren

Instagram : friends, family, abs, outfits, travel….king of instagram, super popular on instagram, everyone follow him but he only follows his friends and instagram he finds interesting, over time it has become an influence, Eren has like a million followers on Insta @IamErenJaeger

Snapchat :  « who has a netflix account ? » in story, selfies with friends at all kinds of events, often takes pictures of Mikasa and Armin by surprise, never puts a filter on for him or for the people he snaps, everyone can watch his story and comment (public baby), already received nudes… @ErenJaegeeer

Whatsapp : he is in all group discussions but rarely answers, when he answers it is surely because the conversation becomes funny or because they talk about Jean and then it degenerates (when too far between Eren and Jean everyone leaves the group and they end up « wait…everyone is gone…? ») and a new groupe is created but the fight starts again (others are like « here we go again » )

Twitter :  can easily get upset in a debate, is not afraid to say what he thinks, it is blocked by a lot of people (please take away his twitter), has a large fanbase : Jaegerist (@CaptainFlochForster is the leader fanbase…best to avoid them.) it’s very simple : either you’re wrong or you’re not right @ErenJaeger

Tumblr :  He is not really known on tumblr, follow only his friends and is followed only by his friends. Does a lot of reblog tumblr he likes and post a lot kind of sick jokes like « What is the only dog you can eat? - A Hot Dog » (20 followers…)

Armin

Instagram : sharing photos of his travels around the world, a lot of ocean scenery, monuments like the Eifel Tower, does not put a photo of him or his friends, his instagram is public to share his beautiful photos with the world  (2,5K followers) @ArminVibe

Twitter : Sharing conspiracy theories with other twittos, if by misfortune a conspiracy ends up in TT you can be sure that it will tweet all evening, twitter reveals its dark side, It can deal with all subjects and he’s gonna take his time to make you understand that you’re WRONG @ArminArlett

Snapchat : he doesn’t know why he has a snapchat, if you send him a snap photo he will just look without answering but if you start a discussion he will probably lose your message if you have not recorded (his fault, but he really does not do it on purpose, he does not really drag on this social media)

Whatsapp : quite active on whatsapp, in groups it is the one that stays the longest active, uses a correct grammar, always has time for someone who needs to talk (a colossal heart…)

Tumblr : very popular on tumblr with his famous landscape photos, he also likes to share theories with whoever wants it, has created a discussion group of which Erwin and Hanji are part (these three are often found in several discussion groups…), is subscribed to Annie

Mikasa

Instagram : her account is private (like most of his social medias) if she does not know you be sure that she will never accept a subscription request (and she receives a lot of subscription requests), sometimes post photos of Eren and her, sometimes with Armin and a picture with the whole group together, has maximum 5 publications and has maximum 100 subscriptions and she subscribes to only 25 people (who are they?) and her favorite girl’s band @MikasaAckerman

Twitter : is fan of girl’s band, a twitter just to follow their news, she has already been on top tweet (never knew why and honestly she doesn’t care), her account is totally private but she receives a lot of follow requests (she declines) @MikasaAckerman

Snapchat : does not do a lot of selfie but she likes cute filters, often does black snap with dark quotes « the sun always shines after a dark night » , tends to reply 2 days after being sent a snap (🤡) yet she makes the flames with Eren (already 834 flames) so she just ignores snaps

Whatsapp : she is in full of group discussions, but always reads without answering (”Read”), she often ends up leaving the discussion groups (but there is always someone to add her to the group, often Sasha)

Tumblr : has a fake account, by the way she is super popular, she posts her covers of her favorite songs @Mikasong (fucking great voice), already has a small community

Reiner

Instagram : is totally subscribed to Emily Ratajkowski (but who is not?), was the first happy to know that the likes are hidden, kind to like a lot of ass and body fitness (…<.<) it’s sure Historia blocked him (probably deserved) @ReinerBraun

Twitter : profile photo of a football player, often mentions his friends, and ALWAYS mentions Conny for challenges « Dare or not to ring your neighbor’s door at 3:00am and ask him for sugar », the kind to tweets like « Nicki Minaj or Cardi b ? » @ReinerTheBigBrother

Snapchat : You see this guy who makes a lot of views on snap and who everyone asks for publicity? Yes, it’s Reiner. Become master of the screenshot (already found himself in a complicated situation because of it…this awkward moment where you catch something you shouldn’t capture…), also receives nudes (btw 🤡) he never watches stories @ReineerGg

Whatsapp : he often ends up being ejected from discussion groups for his dubious humour and is often the victim of Ymir’s blackmail (screenshots can be fatal…)

Tumblr : he doesn’t even know what it’s for

Bertholdt

Instagram : has two instagram accounts, the first is his real account, he only follows his friends and is only followed by his friends and the second is a (secret) fan account on Annie Leonhart @fannie-kickass

Snapchat : goes selfie on occasions like birthdays (party) or when he is with friends, likes animal filters, snap everyone and without warning, during the evenings with friends he often finds himself in the snap of everyone without his knowledge and discovers him the next day (sleeper pose) @Berth5

Whatsapp : the kind of person to share a lot of petitions like « Hi, Nolan still needs 300,000 signatures to be able to convince his parents to buy him ps5 » (he can’t refuse to share when asked…colossal heart - like Armin <.<), calm in group discussions (is not the type to get involved in an argument, always remains neutral when the situation degenerates), he often speaks with Reiner privately and gives him advice on how to approach Annie - but by the time he decided to send a message to Annie, she had already deleted the application… (legend says he’s still waiting for an answer)

Twitter : if you identify him in a tweet, it will probably not read it but will still like it (why not), he does definitely part of the commentators of entertainment shows or sports matches @Bertholdt

Tumblr : hesitates to create a tumblr but does not really know what he could talk about

Annie

Instagram : shares his training and does not hesitate to make demonstrations of his techniques, is quite popular on instagram, to a lot of publication, post a photo with his father just after each victory with a caption « It is God who gives » ; already has a good community (320K followers), account is certified

Snapchat : never goes on his account, totally professional use, it is his father who manages his snapchat to post in story the videos her training and his official matches with the caption « Little Rocky 🔥 »

Whatsapp : it ended up deleting the app because too much discussion that ends in spam (it will be for a next time Berth)

Tumblr : her little cocoon where she can be herself, the only social media that has her interest, her tumblr is dedicated to the cat, she is a fan @Kitty-Catnnie , the only person in the group to know her tumblr is Armin with whom she sometimes chat

Twitter : She is still on top tweet despite her « Mikasa vs Annie, who wins ??? », she never tweet but retweet a lot of things especially those of Conny, it happens to like the tweets of commentator Jean

Jean

Instagram : if you want to see his account you must first subscribe, generally accept all requests, send quite a lot of DM like « you wouldn’t have a bandage because I hurt myself by falling in love with you » sometimes succeeds other times it ends blocked ( or screenshots that end up on Twitter) @JeanOfficiel

Snapchat : He was blocked by Mikasa and Eren (not for the same reasons), made the flames with everyone (but the most with Marco), has already tried to snap Mikasa in secret (it is caught in the act), loves selfies @Ihateeren

Whatsapp : the kind who doesn’t look to whom he sends a message and always has the wrong discussion, so becomes panicked « DONT READ!!! » accidentally already sent a nude in a group discussion (unfortunately screenshots have been made) Eren laughed about this story for several months like « How is Jeanbo doing ? He’s grown up since last time? » (he doesn’t talk about Jean…you know…)

Tumblr : he created a popular mini series on tumblr « You prefer…? » and also « If you were… » (the concept is very cool and we can do it with all the subjects), made a lot reblog, reblog ALL covers of Mikasa

Twitter : has been blocked by half of the tweetos sphere after several heated debates, is one of the people who comment on the shows mainly reality TV (he does it with passion) « SANDRA LEAVES WITH ANTONIO W/O MONEY !!!! IT’S A FUCKIIIING JOKE ?????!!!!! #TheVillaOfBrokenHeart2 » or « I’m the only one who hates Mike ? #MonacoShore » , it’s that kind of tweet that Annie likes) @JeanKirschtein

Marco

Instagram : accepts only requests from friends, his account is private, sharing small moments of his life with friends and families, use many hashtag like #AllThatGlittersIsNotGoldEvenJean (but nobody understands what he means)

Snapchat : often comments his friends’ stories, is the kind to come talk to you if you put a dark snap like « cruel world »

Whatsapp : often receives private messages like « Marco, are you there? » it always ends in long discussions (« The confidant ») he knows how to find the right words, it is active and always “available” if someone needs it

Twitter : always makes Jean’s defense on twitter, the kind of person to be part of a fanbase (like HarryPotter), uses hastag LGBT+

Tumblr : super popular on tumblr, he makes headcanons and screenplays of his favorite books, series and movies, has a preference for Yaoi but he can make any request (2K followers) @HalfMan

Conny

Instagram : very very popular on instagram thanks to his account with Sacha where they share their farce and does not hesitate to challenge, they post the pranks they make to their friends (1M followers) they are not yet certified @TwoDummies , he has a second private account :  with just family and friends (arround 55 followers) @hismotherson

Snapchat : the kind of person who does a snap at 2H00 of the mat « who for the flames », has a lot of snap discussions, always makes stories that ends badly like « I’m going to ride a bike » and in his last snap he ends up in emergency… (true story)

Whatsapp : has an unimaginable number of “caption this” for ALL situations, it sometimes created discussion groups (it’s just that it prepares a stupidity) otherwise is not super active but will always answer if it has a message

Twitter : clash with everyone « Your mother was pregnant for 9 months of your big head but you can’t stand a joke ? SHAME » (blocked), king of challenges, makes all the challenges where it is mentioned, retweet all the « Dare or not… » of Reiner, uses a lot of abbreviation, he invented a lot of hastag like #AlphaLevi and people have fun with his hastag

Tumblr : his more than empty tumblr, has no profile photo, and compulsive liker, it’s literally a fake account for liking funny things @JustConny

Sasha

Instagram : receives many comments under the photos of his joint account with Conny like « POTAETOS GIRL WE LOVE U » and « POTAETOS POWER », often pranks and ends up in the account, has a second private instafood account and also post photos with Nikolo @MadamePatate

Snapchat : oh my dear, he gets into a lot of trouble (funny drama) so stay connected for his “Storytime” evenings (we often hear Ymir commenting in the background with sarcasm and Conny’s laugh)

Whatsapp : the kind of person to send in a « bbiad » discussion (I’ll be back in a bit) and never come back in the discussion, written in abbreviation, loves group conversations

Twitter : has disabled twitter because of a "caption” that Conny posted on it (potaetos girl exists thanks to a tweet) but there reactivated a week later, tweets like a dramaqueen « WHAAAAT @netflix SEASON TWO IS COMING OUT TOMORROW BUT NOT TODAY  ???? WHYYYYYYYYY ! I’m never gonna be able to wait till tomorrow to eat my popcorns frkrkellelrlrl BUY ME POPCORNS NETFLIX BUUUY », has already been on top tweet #potatoesgirl

Tumblr : victim of her reputation even on tumblr, reblog a lot of post food and potential future challenges from Conny, often finds “caption this” with her face and always reacts with a more than dramatic surprise « SHIT AGAIN ??! »

Historia

Instagram : receives a lot of DM from people she doesn’t know, never accept them, like all the photos of her friends, you can see her insta only if you subscribe…(15K followers) @RealHistoria

Snapchat : renames all her friends by cute nicknames, the kind that snaps the place where she is or her food with a « have a nice day », queen of selfie, likes the filters

Whatsapp : uses a lot of emoji, hearts have become a punctuation, in group discussions she often comments « Ymir !! » after a sarcastic comment, tries to temper when the situation becomes too stormy

Twitter : avoids twitter like the plague, has disabled her account, reactivates it on occasions before losing interest once again, in fact her account is a fake where she is named @christaLenz

Tumblr : pretty active, committed LGBT+ activist, reblog testimonials, lots of likes, reblog Mikasa covers a.k.a Mikasong

Ymir

Instagram : a lot of photos of Historia (it looks like a fan account), often comments the photos of her friends (unfortunately for them) @Ymir

Snapchat : a lot of selfie with Historia, if a fight or something awkward happens in front of her she will be the first to make a snap (and no scruple to put it in her story), if Reiner is the King of awkward screenshots then she is the Queen for INTENTIONAL screenshots, her memories are filled with compromising photos on EVERYONE

Whatsapp : Do you remember the screenshots on snap? Well it is on Whatsapp that they find their usefulness. Can send them to a discussion group as if nothing had happened but her specialty is a service for her silence (yes blackmail) it’s never anything bad, but enough to piss off the victim (who is often Reiner)

Tumblr : forgot her password and honestly she doesn’t want to find it, why did she tumblr ?

Twitter : she is often upset about debates, often sarcastic in her retweets, « Caption This », always the last word, she is very popular on Twitter, she’s already been on top tweet (because a drama with her identity) @LadyYmir

Levi

Instagram : does not really look at his newsline, Instagram in black and white and very orderly (#GrandArt), his account is public but no one can comment on his photos @LeviAckerman

Snapchat : a block Hanji (too many snap video that turned into spam), to rename all his contacts by nicknames like « Brat Number one », « Brat Number 2 » (etc.) and Zeke « shithead » nothing abnormal, It has already posted a snap of his head in front camera (had not done it on purpose) deleted after realizing…(especially after receiving plenty of notifications), he and Zeke attack each other by proxy story (no one understands…but it’s funny to read)

Whatsapp : is always “offline” or “busy” but will always respond if sent a message, probably blocked Zeke on all social medias

Tumblr : shares his passion for tea and cleanliness, loves the healthy atmosphere of tumblr, has quite a fan, reblog and subscribes to Armin @TeaWithLevi

Twitter : Tweet by accident (in the pocket >.<) like « jf’dyt’rimsjrdy’yfgi » but other thant he almost never tweets, but when he does it is to complain or creepy « today I learned that a lollipop breaks easily like the legs of a clown » (…we don’t want understand), he’s already been on top tweet with the #AlphaLevi like « #AlphaLevi can surround his ennemies. Alone. » ; « #AlphaLevi makes the onions cry » ; « #AlphaLevi can go up downstairs » (we thank Conny for this hashtag) @LeviAckerman

Hanji

Instagram : honestly if you want to do a search on someone you have to check with Hanji, FBI of the net (”the stalker”), its account is public : post photos with Levi (who has to be taken by surprise) mentions everyone on its posts, photo with Moblit during their experiences (like “Break”), its instagram looks cool @OfficerZoe

Snapchat : snap often its scientific experiments (and other) and we always hear Moblit screaming in the background « Hanji-san! Back ! » , they like to comment on the stories of Levi and Zeke, already tried to make the flames with Levi and Erwin (tried without success)

Whatsapp : spends its time doing focus groups before it degenerates, its favorite pairs are Eren/ Jean and Levi/ Zeke but never has a battery

Tumblr : strangely its tumblr is very serious, they share its hypotheses and theories on scientific subjects, they talk about its experiences and future scientific experiments, they post the results of its research, has its own focus group (Erwin is one of them) @DrHZoe

Twitter : @Dr.troublegirl everything is in the pseudo, will accumulate and then become spectator of a massacre, his catchphrase is « you’re implying… »

Erwin

Instagram : it is very orderly and pleasant to look at, post works of art that crosses his path, does not often check his actuality but when he does it everyone is happy…(always the little comment that makes a good mood and a little like)

Snapchat : his story is public but only his “friends” can comment, snap his visits to the museum and snap a lot the streetart but is not really active when he makes “snap discussion” @Eyebrow (account created by Hanji…)

Whatsapp : uses impeccable punctuation and grammar, often discusses with Armin on intellectual topics and confronts their assumption he is the only one who is not part of a discussion group with ALL the characters (just a few groups like Hanji/Levi/Mike), from time to time he receives family photos of Niail and talks about old times

Twitter : activist totally committed to good causes ( #blacklivesmatter) (#justicepourAdama ), retweet the political news, has already tweeted with the #AlphaLevi @ErwinSmitt

Tumblr : pretty active, post on subjects that fascinate him (like history), his tumblr is very interesting and orderly, proposes developed theories and some people (students like Conny) go there to find answers to their homework… @Sasageyo

Zeke / Sieg

Instagram : created an insta to talk with Eren but he got blocked after commenting on one of his photos « Beautiful sweetren, you grow up day by day, signed your beloved brother » didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his instagram after that ; his instagram is very neat : instafood & instabook but doesn’t have many followers because his instagram account is private (like 150 follower) @ZekeJaerger

Snapchat : made stories to address to Eren instead of sending him directly in private (didn’t really understand the concept) that’s how to start the attacks between him and Levi, Eren ended up deleting the app to him

Whatsapp : uses impeccable grammar (also blocked Livai on all its social medias), tends to read without answering « Read since two days »

Twitter :  tweets like « I am now on twitter. » or  « Good Morning Twitter. » and lots of  « Join me on Candy Crush » , he also likes to comment on his favorite culinary shows with a lot hastag, honestly he is one of the people who blocked Eren on Twitter but does not really assume it  « What ? Weird…I must have hit the wrong button… » yes of course… @ZekeJaeger

Tumblr : reblog Erwin’s posts which he finds very interesting, to himself his own theories which he confronts with Erwin in discussion groups, is part of a quite popular team on tumblr “GenshiKyojin”, (with leader Eren Kruger) #uses #too #much #hastag (#like #me) @KemenoNoKyojin

[donutloverxo]

Auntie flow

Warnings- smut, period talk, period sex, shower sex.

Please do not steal or repost my content. Reblogs are welcome.

Wtf am I doing posting this.

Masterlist

Steve stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. He was so excited he was almost jumping. It had been a busy few days he hasn't had much time to spend with you. Luckily he managed to get his work done sooner so that he could go home and cuddle all night. Maybe you both can go out to eat, go to McDonald's drive through. He didn't consider that real food but anything to indulge you.

The elevator dinged and he stepped out pressing in the code for his apartment.

"Honey, I'm home", he called out for you, heloved saying that.

It was nice to come home to someone. You had only started living together a month ago but he still wasn't used to it. Usually you would come and jump into his arms. So to get no response from you was weird.

He stepped further in and saw you in front of the tv clutching your stomach. He ran to your side and started stroking your hair. "Hey, what's wrong?"

You looked up at him your lips quivering, "I'm dying."

"What? What happened?" He knew you tend to a tad bit overdramatic sometimes but he was worried nonetheless. The med bay was still open maybe he could take you there.

"Auntie flow is visiting and she is being extra bitchy this month," you whine. You did feel a little bad, he just got home from a long day and you were already venting.

"Oh no, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do?" he cooed.

"No. I just need to go lay down. I had to pick up my teams slack today so I'm just a bit frustrated."

"Alright. You go take a nap and I'll make us some pasta. I'll wake you up for dinner. Does that sound good?" You nodded and went to the bedroom to lay down.

He washed his hands and started on making dinner.

He hated this.

He hated feeling so helpless. There must be something he can do for you. He didn't have a lot of experience with periods. Except that one time you asked him to buy some tampons for you. He still found it weird that it just... sits in you all day.

While stirring the sauce he looked up periods on the internet. He read chocolates make women feel better. He could order some or go buy them real quick.

But then... he stumbled upon an article that said orgasms relieve cramp pain.

"Steve, can I help you?" He jerked when he heard your voice. He didn't hear you come in at all.

"Hey, you couldn't sleep?" he asked and put his phone aside for now.

"Well, I'm just uncomfortable," you whispered as you stepped in front of him and started toying with the buttons on his shirt. "It's been a week. I miss you."

Your relationship was still brand new, so you not being intimate for a week was making you so so horny. Maybe it was the hormones or seeing him be so caring or how fine his ass looked in those jeans.

Could be anything.

"It has been a busy week," he cradled your face and dipped down to kiss you.

"Let's go take a bath?" you whispered.

A bath would be very relaxing for you but it wasn't very practical. Steve's brain has always been very strategic he started thinking of places where he could please you the most, now that he knew his way around your body so well, if Bucky was alive he'd call him a 'stud'.

Which would be untrue. He was just a guy trying to take care of his girl.

"Hm... Let's go in the shower," he suggested.

You nodded and stepped out of the kitchen. He switched off the stove. He can make pasta later, he has to attend to his girl now.

He looked at you stripping your pajamas, in awe of you even though he'd seen everything so many times now

"What? You've seen me naked hundreds of times now," you said and rolled your eyes. You started setting the shower.

"Somehow you become more beautiful everytime." he kissed your shoulder as you felt heat creep up to your cheeks.

He wasn't a fan of living in the tower. There were so many buttons and settings everyday. It would be nice to have some simplicity. But now with his new family and his girl this was home and having a ridiculously huge shower helped in occasions such as these.

You both stepped into the shower and he started kissing down your neck to your chest. He sucked and left marks on your breasts and clavicles, making you gasp and moan.

The hot water and steam somehow making your skin even more sensitive and hot. You thread your hand through his hair. He looks up at you. You melt looking at the love and adoration in his eyes.

He dips down to capture your lips into a kiss. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it. You feel his fingers trail down your stomach and reach between your legs. You break the kiss to take deep breaths, biting his neck. He parts your intimate lips, rubbing your clit. You gasp, struggling to breathe, his expert fingers already making you dizzy.

He pushes a finger inside you and then another. He thinks about how your moans maybe the best sounds he has ever heard. How did he go so long without hearing them.

"Steve..." you moan "use two fingers."

"I am," he said.

"Then use three!" you whined.

Usually just two would be more than enough, on account of how thick they were, but your pussy was being especially needy tonight.

He added a third finger. It was a tight fit. He started pumping them as you grew more and more breathless. You were completely clinging to him. You screamed as you came and for a minute you felt as if you were weightless.

Forgot about how your activities had created a crime scene. How disgusting it should be or how you were made to believe it to be. But it didn't feel disgusting. It felt right because it was with the man you loved.

Steve didn't stop until you down from your high. He stood there for a minute holding you.

He abruptly picked you up with your legs wrapped around his waist and leaned you against the wall. You yelped, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He always enjoyed manhanding you and how you squeaked or yelped when he picked you up. It's in moments like these he is even more thankful to the serum. Old him would've never been able to make love to you for hours.

Hell, old him would've never been able to get a girl like you.

"You want more?" he asked between kisses.

"Yes. Yes, please. Get inside me. I wanna feel you," you pleaded.

He rubbed his cock against your drenched pussy and slowly slid in.

His breath hitched. He bit your shoulder. He slowly started rocking into you and then picked up his pace. He moaned when he felt you scratching down his back. It hurt and burned but in a way that left him wanting more.

He moved his head to look at you. Your eyes were closed, mouth wide open. It was a heavenly sight and with you wrapped around his cock it was a heavenly feeling as well.

He moved his hand from your hip between you and started stroking your clit. You gasped. "Oh my god I'm gonna cum," you come for the second time.

His thrusts became erratic and rough as he released inside you. He laid his head in your neck and you stroked his head.

You were still catching your breath. "I don't feel so terrible now," you said with a smile and made a mental note of never letting this man go.

***

After dinner Steve left saying he has some errands and wants to buy some groceries. It was strange because you already had groceries to last you for the rest of the month. When you asked if you could go with him he told you to stay home and rest.

The shower did help in relieving some pain and now you were watching some show waiting for Steve to get home.

He was back with huge bags in his hands.

"What's all this?" you asked him. It was a bit annoying how he picked now to go shopping. When you were in desperate need of sone cuddles and love.

"I got you some chocolates," he said handing you your favorite chocolates. You felt as if you were going to cry. Because chocolates... nothing would make you happier... "And... well, I saw these flowers in the store thought might as well get them for you," he continued handing you a bouquet of roses.

You kissed his cheek and thanked him.

"I also got some snacks"

"Snacks?" That perked you up. Steve never gets any good snacks, which was why you never let him do groceries. "What did you get?"

"These healthy vegan chips. They're supposed to be good for you", he says.

"Mmhm. Well I'll try them. For you, because I love you,"

"I love you too," he smiled.

[heybeybey]

No Regrets

Holy shit I finally wrote a full short fic!! I was inspired when @petra-realsnk posted this beautiful fic! I’m currently finishing up Chap 135 (so there’s spoilers for those who’ve only watched the anime!) in the manga and thought about a what if scenario where the Survey Corps didn’t try to stop Eren. 

Note: I highly doubt that there’s a universe where Levi and the remaining Survey Corps members, especially Petra, would be okay with genocide but it was fun to explore the thought. (Felt masochistic, won’t delete later ✌️😘)

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Angst. And it’s Rivetra but I don’t think this can be considered romance. 

Summary: [Mature] Canonverse AU. Petra survived the 57th expedition and Eren was successful in his Rumbling. Petra and Levi questions if they made the right choices. 

----

They never talked about it.

No regrets. That's what his whole being has been about since he joined the Survey Corps. Petra’s devotion to him pushed her to follow him to the end.

The end did come and try as they might to ignore it, they lived every single day questioning the actions they’ve taken.

Today's Liberation Day. The Eldians are celebrating the day the great Eren Yeager freed Paradis from the rest of the world three years ago. As with every year, the town square will have a play reenacting the Rumbling later this afternoon. They're also serving dishes from the now-extinct Marley. He can only think what Niccolo must be feeling right now.

It's their country’s way of showing that they've won. It's theirs. The world is theirs.

His comrades. Erwin. All of them died for this farce.

However, the biggest clowns were the Survey Corps. 

Him, Hange, Armin, Petra, Connie, Jean, Mikasa. “The Great Heroes of Paradis,” people would call them in adoration and admiration.

Hange was still alive. She's still the Commander of the Survey Corps and she's been leading Paradis’s expansion with Armin across the flattened grounds beyond their little island. He doubts the both of them sleep well at night though. Last time he and Petra visited, he learned that Hange took down Erwin's portrait in her office. Petra cries whenever she sees Armin, remembering the boy who’d always talk to her about the ocean. 

Connie went back to Ragako to build back his village. He never tried to make contact with them again after that.

Jean transferred to the Military Police shortly after. Commander Nile named him next in line. They needed to promote as many people as possible because there’s still a possibility that half of the military can turn into a titan anytime now, even with that fucking monkey dead.

However, a recent rumor reached his city that the Military Police’s next-in-line just shot himself in the mouth yesterday morning.

Mikasa, on the other hand, disappeared.

Levi tried to locate the Ackerman girl a few times. Mikasa can be downright disrespectful and insubordinate during his time as her captain but she's still family. They never treated each other as such but she still is.

His condition prevented him from pushing himself further the way he could before and he had no choice but to follow as Petra led him back.

With his injuries, he needed to retire from the Survey Corps. Petra, banged up with her own scars—physical, emotional, and even mental, also signed in her resignation the day he signed his.

They say it's because they are not in the shape to push through anymore. Besides, there's nothing else to fight except their conscience and inner demons.

The truth is that seeing the Wings of Freedom on their uniform made him want to retch his breakfast every fucking day. Levi once said that he'd kill Eren the moment he shows that he’s a threat to humanity. They all dedicated their life to humanity’s freedom.

You bore the wings of freedom but allowed a monster to clip away the wings of the rest of the world.

What a joke.

He’s snapped out of his usual episodes when Petra came in through the door.

“It’s true,” she says and he takes in the dead look in her eyes. He wished it wouldn’t look any deader as the day Paradis won but it does.

He remains silent, waiting for her to continue.

“Jean. It’s true. He’s dead. His fiance found him yesterday.”

Levi understands Kirstein. He really does. He used to be against suicide because so many people who want to live die everyday. Now though, if he had the will to point a bullet to his own head, he would.

But he can’t leave the baby in Petra’s womb fatherless.

“Do we deserve this, Levi?” At first, he thought she was referring to Jean’s death. All this sadness and self-loathing. “Do we deserve this? A home. A baby on the way.”

When so many beyond the island saw their own homes and children trampled on.

This is the first time she brought it up and he wasn’t surprised that she was the one who opened this conversation.

Petra is already a shell of her former self. He finds it hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d fight titans with fire in her eyes. Who managed to capture his attention since the day she graduated from the cadets. Who managed to survive when their whole squad and the fucking Scout commander couldn't. If they hadn’t fucked around one drunken night of loneliness and despair, he feels she’d lose all the will to push forward.

“How should I know? I told you before. The only thing we can do now-“

“-Is to live with the consequences of our actions.” A beat. She looks down and carefully places her hand on the bulge of her stomach. "Do you think he'll be proud of us?"

Another topic he tried to not approach is the baby. He knows that he'll never abandon her and the little boy or girl inside her but that doesn't mean he'd make a great father.

"Beats me."

She finally snaps. "Levi, just talk to me for once!"

When he imagined a future with Petra back when he was still her captain, he saw it happening with them winning against the titans. He'd kiss her on the battlefield in relief, not caring if fellow soldiers saw that he’s in love with his own subordinate all this time, as everyone cheers over the fact that everything's over and that they're now free to explore beyond the Walls. He'd awkwardly admit that her feelings have always been mutual and maybe he'd even propose years down the road. She'd laugh at him and tell him that age must be really catching up to him if he's actually considering marriage.

"Levi, please. You used to be so open with me. Please don't leave me alone."

She's downright begging now, her arms encircling around his waist as she starts sobbing in desperation. Petra clutches his hand, caressing the remaining two fingers on his one hand.

"Please talk to me. You don't have to carry this burden yourself. I was there until the end, remember?"

In a way, seeing her like this is a relief. Since they retired, he'd always see her walking around the house in a daze. The only time he hears emotion in her voice is when she screams out at night as she wakes up from a nightmare. She doesn’t talk to anyone else now besides him. Sometimes, he rarely even listens. When Hange and Armin visited, she'd make tea and serve them like a meek, little housewife and she'd force a smile on for their guests.

He hates it. This isn't Petra.

Her crying now and demanding him to open up. This is Petra. 

He misses her. 

And since he hasn't found his voice in the past three years, he answers her by abruptly spinning around, grabbing her ginger strands and roughly kissing her to shut her up.

His hand grabs the spot where her chin meets her neck and he clenches. He manhandles her to their room and he fucks her while also making sure he doesn't harm the baby. This is the only way they can communicate their sadness and understanding right now.

She accepts it all without question, her teary eyes staring at the ceiling above him. The only indication that she's okay with all of this are her quiet moans and whimpers for him to go harder and her arms clinging around him in desperation. 

This isn't Petra.

He isn't Levi anymore either.

[blazedgraysons]

You're No Good - Ch. 2

C.J. Bennett is an overly ambitious student who dreams of shadowing her favorite author, Eli Jennings. The only thing standing in her way: Grayson Dolan.

warnings: this is a rough draft of a series i never finished. i'm posting the finished chapters before leaving this account. 🤍

part 1

If American Lit 1102 was C.J.’s personal hell, her job could at least be considered her own reprieve.

Sunnyside Vintage is an old shop off of Sunset, having been open for the last 30 years. It wasn’t the nicest of thrift stores — the clothes always have a weird mothball smell and everything is old - and not in the trendy way.  C.J. loves it. The windows are huge, letting California sunlight wash the stucco walls gold, and the mannequins are always dressed straight out of the 70’s. The pay isn’t always great, but C.J. is allowed to take whatever she wants more than makes up for it in her eyes.

“I just don’t understand. I mean, Stevens has praised me this entire semester. She even told me personally he’s never had a student write as well as me nor pick up on the work as fast as I have. Wouldn’t that be qualities you’d want in an intern, Bea? Even Grayson Dolan would’ve been a better pick.” C.J. turns to her boss, angrily folding flared jeans.

Another reason C.J. loves Sunnyside —  her boss, Beatrice “Bea” Walker. Once a glitzy soap star of the ’50’s, she retired with her husband and opened Sunnyside in the late 80’s. Despite being in her late-70s, she still holds on to the same glamour and charm that made her a household name a century prior.

“Maybe there was another reason. It could be something other then your application.” She croaks, lifting a pumpkin to place next to a costumed mannequin. As halloween rapidly approaches, the store was starting to transform to fit the fall season — hoping to draw in customers to purchase unique costumes for the holiday.

Before she can move to help Bea, the doors chime, signaling an entrance. Walking through with seemingly-glowing skin and a symphonic smile was Alexi, C.J.’s best friend and roommate. It’s hard to miss Alexi whenever she walks into a room — from her bleached-blue hair to eclectic style, she’s never been afraid to follow her own path, something C.J. has always admired. She walks straight to C.J., wrapping her in a loving embrace

“Are you okay? James told me what happened.” Alexi leaves an arm around her, and while C.J. knows it’s supposed to be comforting; all she can think about is how much she wants Alexi to leave. It’s one thing to rant to her elderly boss, someone who would love her in spite of her shortcomings and faults. But to know her own friend group has already heard about her misfortune, sending over someone to comfort and soothe, it was all just a little too pitiful for her to handle.

“Theta’s are throwing a party tonight. It’ll be the perfect pick-me-up, and you can forget all about Evans Jensen-“

“Eli Jennings” C.J. corrects.

“Whoever” Alexi rolls her eyes at the interruption, “is missing out on your incredible talent because of an idiotic professor’s incompetence. Everyone’s going and it won’t be the same without you, C.”

“As much as I would love that, Lex, I really just want to be alone tonight. Shitty beer, cheap Indian food, a sad movie so I don’t have to think about how these past four years have been a waste.”

“Not a waste, first of all. Look, I know that you’ve had this whole plan for your life since you popped out the womb, but shit happens, things change. This isn’t a failure, just think of it as a temporary setback. Plus, when life gives you lemons, you…” She trails off, waiting for C.J. to finish.

“Make lemonade?” She sighs.

“Use it to chase tequila.” Alexi giggles.

“I would go, but I have to close. Right, Bea?"

"Don't use me as an excuse. You should go, maybe find a boy to take home." Alexi makes a face at Beatrice's statement and C.J.'s face heats up.

“You’re going - no more buts. Wear something cute. Something that maybe doesn’t make if look like you were alive for Vietnam.” Alexi’s already leaving, kissing Beatrice lightly on the cheek on her way out.

This was how C.J. found herself standing outside the Theta Lambda  frat house, October air chilling her through her jacket. She shifts her weight between her feet, surveying the small group around her. Alexi talks animatedly on the phone, asking for whoever to meet them out front.

A random person bumps into her, forcing her to spill the contents of her purse onto the dewey grass. C.J. groans, bending down to pick everything up while mentally thinking to herself all of the other things she could be doing right now.

A pair of dirty air forces steps in front of C.J. and she slowly looks up at the girl standing in front of her. She’s pretty, stunning actually. C.J. recognizes her immediately. Channing Williams - social chair of Rho Xi sorority and the key to all the best parties on campus. Dressed in a black romper and red velvet jacket, she’s everything C.J. isn’t and a quiet twinge of jealousy plucks her heart. ‘I bet she’s never lost out on an internship.’ she thinks bitterly.

“Sorry, do you know anyone?”  Channing asks, voice soft and sweet with a clipboard in hand. C.J. looks at Alexi, waiting to hear her answer.

“Not really? I mean we know people, but we aren’t going to be on your clipboard or anything so if you could just let us slide through, I’m sure there’s someone here who could like vouch for us or something?” C.J. wants to slap her — not only did she drag her out in below-freezing weather, but she couldn’t even guarantee them a way inside.

“Well this is a greek-only party so unless you know anyone….” Channing trails off, not openly wanting to kick them out in front of so many people.

“That means no GDI’s.” C.J. didn’t even notice the miniature-sized freshman standing besides Channing. She clearly looks annoyed at the intrusion, keeping her from inside where everyone else is to deal with their little group. C.J. briefly wonders if the upturned stare is a requirement for Rho Xi or if that’s was just especially reserved for her.

“Geed’s?” Alexi repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Goddamn independents. Y’know, not greek-affiliated.” At this point, C.J. is ready to call the whole night and retire in her bed when she see’s someone appear in between Channing.

“They’re cool, Chan. They’re with me.” Micayla Zhao enters, covered in glitter, sweat and what C.J. is almost sure to be a line of salt from a body shot. C.J. has always considered Micayla the only cool Rho Xi, having had multiple classes with her over the years. Micayla fit right in with their group: smart, beautiful and a wicked sense of humor.

Channing nods, seeming bored and just wanting to get back inside with everyone else. She does a quick finger tap with Micayla (sacred Rho Xi bullshit is what Alexi always calls it) and moving along the line.

“Are your sisters always that charming?” Micayla rolls her eyes, grabbing C.J. to move them through the house to the backyard. A huge bonfire is set up in the middle with a canopy near by for the designated drinking spot. She watches as Micayla confidently moves through the crowd, stopping from time to time to say hey to friends and classmates on the way.

“Most of the time. Look, they’re just possessive over tradition and the Rho-Theta party has always been major exclusive, Channing’s been fighting to make it open to outsiders.” Micayla yells over the thumping bass.

“Yeah, I’m sure they love all the GDI’s.”  C.J. exaggerates her voice, pinching her nose to capture the nasally, valley accent Channing is almost famous for. Micayla stops, and had C.J. not been paying attention, she would’ve ran into her.

“Dude, you’re kind of being a bitch right now. Look, I get your bummed about your internship, but Channing wouldn't have let you in if she didn't want to. Would you rather be getting drunk, in your apartment alone?”

“Yeah, actually.” Micayla stares at C.J. for a second, looking like she’s about to bitch her out. As if Alexi can sense the fight forming, she grabs Micayla by the arm.

“Let’s go get a drink, you look like you need a drink in you.” They both walk towards the house, Alexi mouthing ‘Be Nice’ over her shoulder before disappearing completely. C.J. exhales, counting to 3 in her head before walking over to where drinks are set up.She fills up her solo cup, watching as the fizzy liquid moves closer and closer to the top.  Before she can take a sip, someone bumps into her spilling half the drink over the side.

“Hey, watch it!” A thick Jersey accent exclaims, and C.J. groans, wondering if this night could get any worse.

“Bennett?”

Grayson appears in front of her, denim jacket over a black t-shirt and black jeans. She takes note of the dark spot growing on the front of his shirt, from where she spilt her drink.

“What’re you doing here?”

She simply shrugs, refilling the missing contents of her cup.“I didn’t know parties were your scene. I always imagined in your free time you’re in like a dark room, crying alone to Sylvia Plath novels.”

“Nice to know you think of me out of class, Grayson” C.J. takes a sip of her beer. She moves to walk away, hoping he would take it as an end of conversation.

"How'd you get in? Isn't this like Rho's only?" He asks, following her to the edge of the bonfire. She looks at him, watching as the light frames the features of his face.

"Couldn't I say the same about you? You're not a Theta." He just stares at her intensely until she relents, "Micayla Zhao got me in. Y'know her?"

"We had history together sophomore year. She helped me cheat on the midterms."

C.J. laughs shortly. "Sounds like her."

Grayson opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, Grayson, don’t you have someone else to bother? Someone who, y’know, actually likes you?” If that comment bothered him, he didn’t show it, continuing talking to her as if they haven’t pissed each other off continuously for the past four years.

“What do you think about Michael Eichler getting the internship spot?”  He asks. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she didn’t get the spot, now she has to sit and rub salt in the wound with her worst enemy.

“What’s there to think about? He got it, I didn’t. Fucking sucks.” He laughs, holding up his own drink.

“Cheers to that.” They both clink cups, and C.J. briefly wonders if the universe is still laughing at her.

"You know, that spot should've gone to one of us." He muses, watching the partygoers continue to stumble around them. He doesn't say anything after that, and she bites.

"Why should it have gone to one of us?"

"Well, think about it. We're both the top of our class, and I know for a fact Stevens has submitted your writing to collegiate magazines. There's no fucking way Michael fucking Eichler should've got that spot over one of us." C.J. pauses. She had known that Stevens appreciated her writing, but not enough to submit it anywhere. If what Grayson was saying was true, why hadn't she gotten the apprenticeship?

"Nothing I can really do about it now. He got the spot, I didn't. I guess I can become a second rate author now." She takes another sip, and Grayson snorts unattractively.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, Bennett. If Stevens like you, I'm sure there's another author dumb enough to want to publish your work too." She glares at him.

"And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"As if you actually would've wanted to become friends with me."

"Oh yeah, that's what I do in between my Sylvia Plath crying sessions. Desperately wish that Grayson Dolan would become my best friend." Sarcasm drips off every word and he looks at her before taking another long sip of his drink.

“You know you’re actually kinda cool, Bennett. When you’re not trying to bite my head off in the middle of lecture”

“Maybe if you didn’t have such shitty takes, I wouldn’t want too.” Whatever retort Grayson was planning falls from his lips when Channing appears by his side, tucking herself underneath his arm.

"Hey, Gray. I got you another drink." Two Coronas hang from her manicured hand, and he whispers inaudibly to her, giggling between the two of them. C.J. begins to feel awkward, and coughs uncomfortably.

“Oh, you’re the GDI from earlier,” Channing looks up at her half-lidded, dark eyelashes framing red-tinged brown eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Channing shifts her weight, biting her lip and feeling like an intruder. "I didn't know you two knew each other?" C.J. supplies, feeling desperate for conversation

"Gray and I had math together freshman year, "They both stare at each other awkwardly, silent tension as they wait for the other to speak.

“So, I’m gonna go." She speaks.

“No, you don’t have to." Channing is already turned back to Grayson, looking like she wouldn't mind C.J.'s exit.

“No it’s fine” Neither Grayson nor Channing seem to protest anymore, and C.J. turns back to see her friends looking at her, both amused and curious at her interaction with the duo. She begins to walk towards them, feet and heart sinking with every step, not feeling any better about her current predicament.

“Hey Bennett,” She turns around to face Grayson. “Think about what I said. About the internship stuff” She just nods, and leaves the pair. The moment she reaches her initial group, Alexi pulls her towards them.

“You and Dolan were just talking and it didn't end in a screaming match. That’s new. What did he want?”

“Nothing. Just typical Grayson Dolan bullshit."Alexi looks like she doesn't believe her, and frankly C.J. doesn't believe herself. She thinks back to what Grayson said, about how they were the only real competition for the apprenticeship. Whatever he meant by that could be handled tomorrow.

"C’mon. Didn’t  you say something earlier today about tequila shots?” She asks

“Atta, girl. That’s what I’m talking about.” She lets Alexi drag her away, sparing one last look at Grayson before entering the fraternity house.

[s-and-n-writes]

another long day

crimson and bluebell: part two

summary:

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila’s constant berating and Madame Rossi’s preferential care of her ‘angel-like’ daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It’s like she’s Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn’t even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links:

< previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

a/n: so hi again, it’s me, n! im so so so sorry that i didn’t post for a long time, school caught up with me and everything’s getting v stressful these days. regardless, my new year’s resolution is to post more of these, and i’ll actively make an effort to do that hehe, in the meantime, enjoy!

also i’m appalled at the fact that this was 15 pages long and took more than a month to write how are you doing

Marinette had thought that the whole coffee spill, glass breaking fiasco would be relatively easy to clean.

She was wrong.

It takes her all of 10 minutes to clean up the glass, and another 20 minutes to try and clean up the coffee.

Key word: try.

Marinette ends up at school 30 minutes late, the coffee-stained carpet rolled off to the side at home, effectively ruined. She hasn’t even thought about the cracked glass table yet, which she hid by placing a tissue over top of it after Lila left.

Needless to say, all of this puts a little bit of a damper on her day.

As Marinette walks up the staircase of Francois Dupont, the school she goes to, she spots Alya Cesaire inside. Alya is Marinette’s closest friend, and despite having moved to Paris only a year ago, it feels like Marinette has known her for their entire lives.

“Girl, girl, girl…” Alya sighs as Marinette walks through the doors. It’s a free period, and students litter the area. Marinette spots Lila walking with one of her friends on the other side of the school, and luckily, Lila doesn’t see her.

There’s one good thing about school that Marinette adores: she doesn’t have to see Lila. Lila’s always had Madame Mendeleev for homeroom, and Marinette’s had Madame Bustier. Because of this, their schedules never interact, which allows Marinette to avoid Lila for the duration of the school day.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette pleads, running up to Alya and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder. “There was a coffee spill, and glass broke, and-OH GOD I MISSED THE MATH TEST!!!”

“Marinette, chill,” Alya laughs. “The math test got rescheduled, but Ms.Bustier is pretty mad about you being late,”

Marinette sighs. “That’s a relief,”

“But you still missed a lot of news~,” Alya says, singing the last word.

Alya aspires to be a journalist, so on the occasions that Marinette wasn’t late, Alya would give her anything and everything interesting she’d dug up that week.

"I know, I know," Marinette sighs, fingers loosely picking at her shirt again. The seams stay intact, but Marinette's mind doesn't. The coffee spill and the glass breaking is constantly on her mind; she's not sure what to do. 

"Nice shirt, girl," Alya smiles, breaking Marinette away from her thoughts. Alya's good at that, and she notices when Marinette lets her mind wander, something that happens a little too often for her tastes. "Did you make it?" 

Marinette bursts into a grin. "Yes! I used that gorgeous thread that Sabine bought last week for my birthday, you know, the one I kept talking about, and it was absolutely amazing! I had to make this! What do you think? Do you like it?" 

The shirt is simple; a white base with flowers of varying sizes lining the edge. Marinette pairs it with her old, pink jeans (the fabric for the flowers on her shirt came from some leftover ones she had when making the jeans) and a dark-gray blazer that Lila used to own. 

"It's beautiful," Alya smiles, "But hey, I’m more excited for you-know-who’s reaction," 

Marinette rolls her eyes, hiding her face as an involuntary blush rises to her face. "Alya! You know I don't like him like that!," 

Alya grins. "Just teasing," 

“Well, anyways, tell me what I missed during lunch, I’m off to the classroom, before Ms. Bustier comes looking for me,” Marinette smiles, turning and running up the stairs. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone.

The day passes quickly, and lunch comes sooner than Marinette expects.

She meets Alya outside of Francois Dupont, and they both head to Ville de Soirée, a cafe which isn’t nearly as expensive as the others in the area. They both order their usuals, and sit in one of the booths as they wait for their drinks.

Marinette sighs and leans back. “Ok, ok, tell me,”

Alya, who is most probably on the verge of exploding from her excitement, gears up. “Ok, so you know Nino, right?”

“You mean the boy you’ve been obsessing over since we met him?” Marinette teases. “Oh hey, I might have an inkling,”

Alya blushes, her cheeks tinting rouge. “Shut up,”

Marinette giggles. “Ok, go on,”

“Anyway, Nino texted me yesterday that his parents finally agreed, and he’ll be starting school starting Monday next week!”

“Ah! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Marinette laughs. “Now you can actually make a move!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’ll let you play matchmaker when the time comes,” Alya laughs, “there’s also something else, and this one I know you’ll be even happier about,”

The barista interrupts Alya, placing two steaming drinks in front of them. They both reach for their drinks, with Marinette holding the cup in her hand and Alya taking a sip. She grins.

“Nino’s friend, you know, Adrien Agreste, is also coming too,”

She pulls back, looking smug as she tries to read Marinette’s face.

The girl in question sighs, shaking her head. “Who even is Adrien, and why does everyone keep mentioning him to me?”

Alya facepalms, groaning.

“Girl, sometimes I swear you live under a rock,” Alya sighs, shaking her head. “How do you not know who Adrien Agreste is? His ads are literally everywhere!”

Marinette pouts. “Well maybe I just haven’t seen him,”

Alya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ohh no, there’s no way you’ve missed him ,”

She pulls up her phone and momentarily scrolls as Marinette waits.

“Here,” she says, “That’s him,”

The photo on Alya’s screen is from last February, Marinette recognizes. She remembers how Lila bought a copy of the magazine it came in, although she wasn’t allowed to see it.

But the boy is familiar. His face is similar to someone’s, but Marinette can’t pinpoint who it—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.

Marinette leans back.

“That’s Monsieur Agreste’s son! I should’ve known, how could I have missed it when Madame Rossi told us about him?”

Alya squints her eyes. “Wait what?”

“There’s a fashion show that Adrien’s dad is hosting, and the embassy’s holding a huge event to greet all the fashion officials that are coming. Madame Rossi got us all passes to go,” Marinette says.

“That’s the one my mom’s cooking for! It’s next weekend right? She would not stop talking about it all weekend. I can try and score a pass, to you know, keep you company?”

Marinette gasps suddenly, burying her face in her hands, “Ah! I forgot! I won’t be able to go, since Li— I mean I, spilled coffee all over our new carpet,”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, I cracked some glass too,” Marinette sighs, face growing redder. “Madame Rossi’s gonna ground me for sure!”

Alya shakes her head. “Somehow I can believe it. You are the clumsiest person I know,”

She nods thoughtfully, fingers closing around the fox necklace on her neck. “Well I can’t deal with the whole glass situation, but maybe I can help with the coffee stuff? Happens to my mom all the time,”

Marinette perks up. “Really? Would you? Oh thank you Alya!”

Alya laughs. “No problem girl, I’ll come by after your shift at the bakery,”

Marinette pauses. After work would be...when Lila comes home.

Alya has always been a fan of Lila, but despite knowing Marinette, she’s only admired Marinette’s less-than-wonderful sister from afar. This means that so far, Marinette has managed to keep Alya and Lila separate.

Does she really want to risk that?

Weighing in the situation, she sighs. Would she rather have a shot at attending a potentially life-changing event, or safely escape Alya meeting Lila?

Knowing the both of them, Marinette remembers, they’d be a deadly combo.

But Marinette really wants to go to the event so, maybe this time, she might just give in.

“Great!” Marinette says, happiness laced with fear. “That’s...great!

Alya nods, smiling, watching as Marinette giggles.

“Now about setting you up with Nino…”

Alya turns away, blushing, “Marinette!”

Today

Lie-la 😒: sup loser

Lie-la 😒: im going to the mall with my friends after school

Lie-la 😒: if my mom comes in early

Lie-la 😒: you know what to say

Lie-la 😒: type, maribrat. use those lousy fingers.

You: yea, sure lila.

Lie-la 😒: good.

Marinette sighs and pockets her phone. For today, she is safe.

And that’s all she has ever wanted.

Marinette’s day ends with her feeling happier than when it began. Alya’s coming over to wash out the coffee stain, Lila won’t be there when she gets home, and she’s heading to her shift at the bakery!

It’s normal for work to not be exciting to most people, but for Marinette, it always is. Heading to the Dupain-Cheng bakery is always the highlight of her day, and working there is even better. The owners, Sabine and Tom, are like the parents she never had, what with them spoiling her with all the food they give and teaching her how to bake. Customers even tell Marinette all the time that she looks strikingly similar to Sabine, but she doesn’t see it.

In truth, she’s only ever even thought about becoming a designer because of the Dupain-Chengs, and if it weren’t for their motivation, she’s sure that she would be in a much different place right now.

But that’s not what Marinette worries about right now. Despite school ending early and the bakery being right across the street from where she is, she still manages to be late.

She exchanges a quick goodbye with Alya, who chuckles at her frazzled state, and dashes off towards work.

“I’m here!” she shouts, running into the bakery, the familiar jingle of the store’s door’s bell ringing in her ears. “Sorry!

Sabine laughs as she hands a box of pastries to a customer, waving as they leave. “Just on time. Hello Marinette,”  

Marinette winces as Sabine holds out her apron. “Sorry again, Sabine!”

Tom laughs from the kitchen behind the store, the sound booming through the bakery. “Marinette!”

“Tom!” Marinette says back, her lips curving into a smile.

Sabine eyes Marinette as she ties the apron behind her, quickly joining the older woman behind the counter.

“So?” she asks. “What’s new with you?”

Marinette sighs. “Not much, not much...oh! Madame Rossi has an embassy gathering to welcome a couple of famous people into France. And not just any people, people who work in the fashion industry!”

Sabine nods, smiling at Marinette’s delight. “And why exactly are these people coming?”

“It’s for the Gabriel event. I don’t know when it is, but apparently Gabriel Agreste is holding a huge gala, something about searching for a fashion assistant?,”

Sabine perks up at fashion assistant. “Marinette, you should enter!”

Marinette gasps. “I couldn’t! There’s no way! I mean, my designs are barely adequate, let alone Agreste worthy!”

Sabine shakes her head. “Everyone knows that isn’t true. Don’t put yourself down like that!”

Marinette blushes. “Thanks Sabine,”

The woman smiles. “Well, anyways, are you allowed to go to the embassy event? It’s a great opportunity, you wouldn’t want to miss it,”

“I mean, Madame Rossi did invite me and Lila, but Lila spilled a bunch of coffee on the carpet, and cracked the dining table this morning. It’s all a stunt, she did it on purpose. She’s blaming it on me, which means I’ll get grounded, and I won’t be able to go, and you know there’s nothing I can do about that,”

Sabine sighs, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Oh dear. The next time I see Lila, I’ll tell Tom to get that girl and her mother arrested!”

Marinette laughs. “As much as I’d like that, where would I live?”

The rumble of the oven from behind the store dies down, and Tom walks into the main room. The room seems friendlier all at once, his large personality filling the space.

“Here, with us,” he declares proudly. “You’re like a daughter already,”

Marinette giggles, her cheeks growing red. “Alright guys, we’ll see,”

Sabine and Tom laugh as Marinette runs away to help a customer. Their afternoons with Marinette pass by quickly, and while they wish it was longer, you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun.

By the time Marinette gets off her shift, it’s 5:30 in the evening. Paris’s sky starts to fade from its normal cotton-candy blue to a marmalade orange. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets start to die down, and once she texts her address to Alya, Marinette makes her way to the bus stop.

While her time in the bakery is her favorite time of day, her time on the bus doesn’t prove to be too bad either. She likes the quiet silence, and enjoys her time away from the world around her.

The bus is probably her favorite mode of transportation (but her only one as well). When she volunteered to work at the bakery after school, Madame Rossi decided that ‘the streets were too dark at night for Marinette to walk alone’, and she was given a bus pass.

It was a small and random act of kindness that Marinette wouldn’t ever get again. It was also the only gift she ever got from her adopted mother, and despite not being too fond of Madame Rossi, she did treasure the gift.

Madame Rossi paid for her bus rides until Marinette was actually hired at the bakery. It was then that she decided to have Marinette pay her own bills, an action that most certainly helped Marinette for the future.

The sound of tires skidding against the pathway jolts Marinette out of her thoughts. She turns to see her normal bus waiting in front of her, and grabbing her bus pas, waits in line behind a couple others to get on.

That is, until she sees what’s about to happen.

Marinette watches as a man across the street tries to cross. He’s old, as his grayed hair and aged face tells, but his most identifiable quality is the red Hawaiian shirt he wears, embossed with a white hibiscus floral pattern.

Besides that, there’s also a car coming straight for him, and though it’s a little while away, there’s no doubt that he’ll get hit.

Marinette does the only thing she can think of. She runs.

The street is narrow, and Marinette manages to pull the man across the pathway before the car comes. She huffs, turning to the man to smile.

He has an odd look in his eyes, lips curved into a mysterious smile as Marinette quirks her eyebrow.

“Thank you, young lady,” he nods.

“You’re welcome!” she smiles, turning to look at the bus, which has started leaving. “Goodbye and stay safe, sir!”

The old man watches as Marinette just manages to catch the bus, stopping it and shouldering her backpack as she climbs on.

Marinette seats herself as the bus starts once more, and turns to her window to look for the old man.

But by the time she does, he’s gone.

Alya gets to Marinette's house at just the right time. When she reaches, Marinette has done a couple of her chores, cleaned up the living room, and put out the carpet in the first floor bathroom. Against the white rug, the coffee stain is obvious, and Marinette sighs as she inspects it.

How were they ever going to get it out?

There’s a knock at the front door, and Marinette knows it’s Alya. Smiling, the girl heads to the living room to open it.

Alya gasps as she sees the house. From the marble kitchen to the hickory-brown wood flooring, everything is pristine and clean, as if the Rossis live in a mansion.

(They don’t, but the house is still fairly big. Marinette sometimes has to clean it all as part of her chores, but luckily that hasn’t happened in a while.)

“Dang girl,” Alya sighs, “you rich or what?”

Marinette nervously laughs, cracking her knuckles. “Uh, I don’t know,”

“I’m joking,” Alya smiles. “But, random thing, where’s Lila?”

“She’s out. Doctor’s appointment for her, um, wrist,”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I said get better soon!”

Marinette sighs. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s far better than what would happen if she told the truth.

“Yea. Anyway, how are you getting the stain out? I tried all morning, but it was stuck,”

“Just watch me, girl,” Alya smirks. “Before we start though, you already blotted the stain,right?”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows. “Blotted? What do you mean?”

Alya demonstrates with her hands. “Like, did you take a paper towel and try to get as much of the stain out as you could?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was late this morning,”

Alya nods. “Ok, so now we just have to make the cleaner,”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Make? This is getting a little crazy,”

“It’s really not,” Alya laughs, “I’ve done this a thousand times before. My sisters knock over my dad’s coffee way too much,”

Marinette laughs. “Alright then, show me what to do,”

Alya makes her way to the kitchen, filing through multiple cabinets. “Where’s your dish soap?”

“Bottom-left drawer next to the sink,” Marinette points.

“And your white vinegar?”

“Fridge. Anything else you need?”

“Just water,” Alya replies. “Warm, that is. And two cups of it,”

Marinette nods. “Got it,”

Alya takes out a steel bowl from one of the cabinets. “And can I use this?”

Marinette nods again. “Go ahead,”

“Great,” Alya says, pouring a spoon of dish soap followed by a spoon of vinegar. She waits for Marinette to get the water before adding that in as well, and then mixing. “That should do,”

“Work your magic then,” Marinette laughs.

“Just watch and see girl, I totally will,”

Alya finds a cleaning rag from a drawer in the island, and she runs over to the carpet. “Grab yourself a rag, Marinette, and let’s get started!”

Marinette laughs, and runs over to help. The time passes quickly, and by the time the coffee stain is gone and the carpet is dry, two hours have gone by. Their hands are sore and their legs are tired, but both can say that they had fun.

In the midst of it, Marinette almost doesn’t notice when Lila texts her.

Today

— 2 New Messages —

Lie-La 😒: open the back door

Lie-la 😒: im right by my house

Almost.

“Alya!” Marinette gasps, both sitting on the couch after the carpet was rolled back underneath the dining table. “It’s so late, don’t you have to go at 7?”

Alya tilts her head, confused. “No?”

“Oh well then I must have said it,” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yes that’s right! I’ve got work, haha. Bye!”

Marinette practically pushes Alya to the front door, while Alya looks lost and puzzled.

“Didn’t you already have work?” Alya asks.

“Yep, but gotta save up for uni right? Haha. Haha,”

Alya nods, squinting her eyes as she walks out the door.

“Um, bye? See you at school, girl,” Alya nods, quietly laughing.

“Bye!” Marinette smiles. Once Alya is farther away and out of sight, Marinette runs to open the back door. She can faintly hear the sounds of Lila’s friend’s car pulling into the driveway, so she dashes back upstairs as fast as she can. The last thing she wants to do is talk to Lila, much less be alone in a room with her.

She hopes that Lila won’t try anything while she’s in her room.

Sighing, she smiles when she stops at the attic door, and heads inside.

Before Madame Rossi found her and decided to take her in (how she came to that conclusion, Marinette would never know), the attic was all set to be Lila’s playroom. The entire room was painted pink from head to toe (even the carpet was a light shade of pink). There was a wooden wardrobe for all of Lila’s toys, and a desk with markers, painting supplies, and coloring pencils galore.

But then Marinette came along.

For one reason or another, she was given the attic as her own room. Out went the ideas of toys and tents in the room, and in came Marinette.

Madame Rossi didn’t give her anything. From the age of 2 till the age of 4, she slept on the ground, the lack of a bed present to her each night.

Until Lila outgrew her bed of course, which was then given to Marinette.

It was simple. Since Marinette was smaller than Lila, and slower at growing, she was often given Lila’s old things. All the clothes that Lila didn’t want, Marinette had. From her bed to the old beanbag in her room (one of the only things Lila gave her as decoration) everything was a hand me down from Lila herself.

Marinette sighs, and then flops into the bed. She’s lucky that Lila doesn’t bother if Marinette doesn’t get on her nerves.

Hopefully, until she can get out of this place, she’ll manage without angering Lila too much.

Standing up, Marinette locks herself in the attic, a faint click of the door behind her, and gets out her phone. Opening up Spotify, she starts her playlist, and goes over to the desk.

For the next hour, she does homework and finishes a project, all while sketching out designs for new dresses.

And hey, if she’s lucky, she might just be able to make one for the gala.

Marinette shuffles through her desk drawers, pop music playing through her earbuds. It’s nearly 8 PM and she’s searching for the special gold thread she had bought a couple weeks ago. It cost nearly a month's pay, and she’s been saving it for a special occasion.

With the dress she was sketching, she wanted to know if it was now.

She’s still searching through the drawers on the left side of the desk when she finds a box.

One that she feels might not have been there before.

(Then again, she rarely looks through all her drawers, so there’s always a chance that it could’ve been.)

Marinette feels confused. The box is made of a dark brown wood, and shaped like an octagon. The top of the box is embossed with a red design. Glimmering red circles meet wavy, thin lines, but Marinette is preoccupied with figuring out what the box is for.

In the end, she decides to open it. There can’t be much inside, can there?

Turns out, Marinette is wrong.

The moment she opens it is a frightful one. In that second, there’s a bright flash of light. It swirls around her as Marinette gasps, dropping the box onto the carpet as two solid-black earrings fall out.

That’s not the amazing part of it all though. After a second, Marinette comes face to face with a spotted red creature.

Needless to say, she screams.

“Hi Marinette!” the spotted creature says. “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Mouse!” Marinette hollers, “Bug! Bug-mouse! Talking bug mouse!”

Marinette scooches back, her hand grabbing books and papers off her desk as she throws them at Tikki.

“I’m here to help!” Tikki says, dodging the objects. “I’m here to help you!”

“Liar!” Marinette calls, searching for more things to throw. “This must be Lila’s version of a joke ! I can’t believe her!”

She takes her water-bottle from her backpack, and quickly moves to trap Tikki in it.

“It’s ok Marinette, I won’t hurt you,” Tikki smiles. “But if this makes you feel better, then this is ok!”

There’s a pause, and then Marinette sighs and chooses not to answer, leaning back, and quickly grabbing her school tablet off her desk. She points it at Tikki, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Who are you?” Marinette asks, “and what do you want?”

“Like I said, my name’s Tikki! I’m a kwami!” the tiny bug says, (still trapped in the bottle but floating in midair, Marinette notes) “And I want to help you!”

Marinette sighs, lowering her weapon tablet. “Did Lila send you somehow?”

Tikki furrows her forehead in place of her eyebrows. “No? Who’s Lila?”

Marinette bitterly chuckles, standing and throwing her arms into the air. “This. This. This is why you can’t help me. No one can. Anyone who meets Lila thinks she’s an ‘absolute angel’, and no one else knows her. How is someone supposed to help me if no one knows that my problem exists?!”

“Marinette,” Tikki sighs, “I promise you, I can help, if you’ll listen to me. Please let me explain, and then you can decide if you want to trust me or not, ok?”

Marinette pauses, considering the situation, and sits a fair distance away from Tikki, keeping her tablet in her hands.

“Ok,” she responds, facing the little bug. “But you have 5 minutes,”

Tikki smiles again. "And that's all I need,"

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: i resolve to post the next chapter soon lmaoo, thanks for reading! have an absolutely amazing day, you deserve it! 

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[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Parallels | Chapter 4

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy 

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up. 

Song(s) used: Clued Up - Little Mix 

Warnings: none

Words:  2,845

It was almost midnight when the two girls collapsed on the floor of the dance studio after having rehearsed every single Dirty Candy song at least twice. Violet had almost gotten everything down. 

“Will you tell me more about the other universe?” Carrie asked as she stared at the off-white ceiling overhead. 

Violet turned her head a little to look at her best friend before facing the ceiling too. “Where should I start?” 

“Are we friends?” Carrie questioned without missing a beat. 

“Yeah, we’re best friends with Julie and Flynn. We spend most days in Julie’s garage, making music. We wrote at least a dozen songs together, I believe.” Violet smiled at the memory of them writing their first song together just a few years ago. It was one of their proudest moments together. 

Carrie then sat up straight, the movement capturing Violet’s attention. “Will you show me one?” she asked, and Violet shot up into the seating position too. “Please?” 

Violet’s eyes darted across the room where she found a bunch of instruments stalled. With a smile, she got up and made a beeline for the acoustic guitar in the corner before returning and sitting down opposite of Carrie. 

After having tuned the guitar to her liking, Violet placed her fingers on the correct strings and started playing. An upbeat melody chimed through the room seconds before Violet’s voice followed. 

“Hey, yeah, no, oh, oh, yeah, mmm” Listen, I used to dress like everybody else I wanted to just blend in They told me no, keep my dreams on the low Told me I'd never win, yeah I love to be different Guard up to opinions then let 'em in Tear me down, wanna see me drown Like being happy is such a sin, uh-huh”

Violet looked up for a second to find Carrie watching her with the softest smile on her face, the way Carrie always looked at her. It made her feel at home. 

“And now I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm getting on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

Violet’s voice grew stronger as she lapsed into the chorus with Carrie watching her intently. 

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

She slowed it down again, her voice mellowing out during the second verse. 

“Invisible, I feel like I'm forgotten Do you even notice me? Yeah Work myself up, let the nerves take over How I feel isn't what you see I need control, don't know how to let it go I need to learn to let it be, yeah Gotta remember nothing lasts forever So I'm just happy being me, oh-oh”

“And when I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm staying on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

To Violet’s surprise, Carrie joined in during the post-chorus, which caused a wide, genuine smile to fall on Violet’s lips as the two voices blended together. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed and she was still in her own universe. 

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“I will never run, never run from a lesson I will never hide, never hide from the present All the ups and the downs All the heres and the nows, oh Everything I face, no, it's never forgotten 'Cause every single day is a chance I can blossom All the ups and the downs Yeah, I'm living right now, hey”

“Mmm, I'm living right now, yeah Aah, one, two, three!”

A giggle escaped Carrie’s lips before she tried her hardest to sing along with Violet. It ended up with her just echoing some of the words, but it added a certain quality to the song that Violet really digged. 

“I'm c-c-clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty (beauty, no), sometimes it's pain (pain) Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain (oh, sometimes it's rain) I'm c-c-clued up (up) and now I'm ready Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh, oh, oh I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have Beauty, but sometimes it's pain, mmh Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's rain”

The last notes echoed through the space as the song came to an end, and made room for Carrie’s clapping and giggling. 

“That sounded great! Did you write this one?” she asked, intrigued to hear more about this universe of Violet’s. 

Violet smiled and placed the guitar next to her before answering. “Actually, you did…” 

Carrie’s eyes widened. “I did? Y-you mean your Carrie doesn’t sing about being popular and being the best at everything like I do?!” The girl was baffled at the idea that there were other subjects to write about than just popularity. 

“You should try it sometime,” Violet told her with a smile. “I’m sure you got something great in you. If Carrie from my universe can do it, then so can you.” 

“Sounds like a pretty good universe you lived in,” it sounded from the other side of the room and it didn’t sound like Carrie’s voice, whatsoever. Violet and Carrie turned their heads to find Bobby in the doorway. 

Violet smiled. “Actually, it was just okay. I don’t see you that often…” Bobby tilted his head a little before walking closer towards the girls. “What happened to Sunset Curve here? In my universe, they’re pretty big and touring the country at this very moment…” 

“We, uhm, we split up…” Bobby replied with a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

“What happened?” 

Bobby heaved in a deep breath before joining the girls on the floor. “Creative differences. I wanted to be famous, Luke was in it to prove to his parents he could make a career out of it, Alex just wanted to work out his frustrations and Reggie was just in it because his friends were…” 

“Oh, that sounds pretty terrible. Where are they now?” 

The boy shrugged. “Luke plays football, Reggie is focusing on his studies and Alex only has time for Willie.” 

“Who’s Willie?” Violet wanted to know, having never heard of the boy before. 

“Alex’s boyfriend,” Carrie replied, “And they’re the cutest couple on earth, I swear to God!” 

Violet’s eyes widened. “I knew Alex was gay. I swear the whole dating-a-different-girl-every-night was just a publicity stunt!” The Wilson siblings shot the girl a questioning look. “It’s a long story… But Alex is gay! Yay!” She excitedly clapped her hands, making the two teenagers in front of her chuckle. 

“So, any clue how we’re gonna get you back?” Carrie asked then. 

Violet smirked, “You already sick of me, Wilson?” Carrie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. “I’m kidding. But no, I’ve got no clue whatsoever… There must be a reason why I’ve been brought here, right?” 

“I mean, you did tell me you wished someone would believe in me,” Bobby muttered, his voice laced with hurt and betrayal. 

Violet’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry about that, Bobby… I’m sure I didn’t mean it…” 

The three kids let the words settle in their brain before the three of them burst out into laughter. That sounded weird, even considering the situation. 

For the rest of the night, the three of them brainstorm together, trying to figure out what reason could be behind the switch. There had to be a reason for her to suddenly show up here. It had to mean something. 

Determinedly, Violet stormed through the hallway towards where she last saw Julie, Flynn and Carrie. They were still at Julie’s locker and, like they had many times before, immediately shut up. This time, Violet ignored it and instead came straight to the point. 

“What’s this?” she asked and showed the girls the picture she had made of the news article in the trophy case. “This isn’t right! Sunset Curve broke up a year ago!” 

Just as the words left her mouth, a girl Violet could recognize from miles away walked her way. She had a strut in her step and her long, black hair swooshed behind her with every swaying step she took. 

“Kayla!” Violet called out and when her friend turned around, her face screamed disgust. 

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone laced with annoyance. 

Violet’s eyes flicked from Kayla to Carrie and back. Kayla and Carrie weren’t friends here. And neither were Violet and Kayla. Dirty Candy wasn’t a thing in this universe. Though the logo on Kayla’s badge that was pinned to her jean jacket said differently. 

“Nothing – N-nevermind.” Violet turned back to the girls she was previously talking to. “Does Dirty Candy exist?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“Yeah,” Carrie replied, the volume of her voice matching Violet’s. “It’s Kayla’s. She created the band with Dana, Cynthia and Sophia.” 

Violet blinked a few times, trying to process all the information. “Dana’s in the band?” she whispered, and neither of the girls were sure if she was talking to them or not. “Dana got kicked out of Dirty Candy… Our Dirty Candy.” She said that last part to Carrie. 

“Vi, we were never in Dirty Candy…” Carrie told her with furrowed eyebrows. 

Julie lifted her hand to Violet’s arm. “Are you certain about that universe thing?” 

“Yes!” Violet groaned. “This isn’t the world I’m used to living in. In my world, Carrie and I are in Dirty Candy and we haven’t spoken in over a year since your mother died.” She pointed at Carrie first, then gestured to the two other girls before her gaze landed on Julie. 

Julie’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her mother really did know more, she was certain of it. There was something she was hiding and Julie had to find out what it was. But first, she wanted to know more about this universe Violet seemed to come from. 

She grabbed Violet’s hand and dragged her towards the empty music room at the back of the school where no one ever came. This used to be Sunset Curve’s rehearsal space during their free periods and  now, Julie used it to work on her music when the girls couldn’t help. 

“Tell us more about that universe of yours,” Julie demanded as she hopped onto a desk in the corner. Her eyes flicked to the other two girls, searching for their approval before adding, “We wanna know everything.” 

“So, in my universe, your mother passed away. She got ill, really ill and after she passed, you lost your love for music. You didn’t sing a note for a year and we kinda lost each other. Carrie and I started to spend more time together afterwards and eventually created Dirty Candy. We grew our band with Cynthia, Sophia and Kayla, and became more and more popular the more we performed at school and at Chubbie’s pizzeria.” 

Carrie’s eyes twinkled at the idea of forming a band with her best friends, though she couldn’t quite see how she could start a band without Flynn and Julie. There was no Carrie and Violet without Flynn and Julie, or any other way around. 

“You have a Chubbie’s too?” Flynn questioned, earning a glare from Carrie and Julie. 

“That’s your question?” Julie shot back, shaking her head. She then turned back to Violet. “Continue, please.” 

Violet chuckled a little. “Besides rehearsals for Dirty Candy, I mostly hang out at Carrie’s where Bobby mostly mopes around because he doesn’t have any friends since Sunset Curve split up.” 

“Why’d they split?” Carrie wanted to know. 

“I don’t know, some drama, I guess? I don’t really pay much attention to him, to be honest.” A soft laugh escaped Violet’s mouth at the thought of teasing Bobby to the fullest with all her stupid pranks and witty comebacks during rehearsals. 

“Why’d you switch places with our Violet?” Julie then queried. 

Violet shrugged. “If only I knew that… The blogpost I found doesn’t really give a theory about why people switch places with their parallel self. It just – happened, I guess?” 

Julie mulled the answer over in her head whilst her teeth dug into her bottom lip in thought. She knew she could ask her mother about all of this. She had to know something about it. There had to be more that she could tell them. 

“I think there’s someone who can help us,” she muttered and jumped back on her feet. Her three friends followed behind her until they reached the street and they were on their way to Julie’s house. Their last period was a free period, so it wouldn’t really matter that they left school early. It was something they did quite often to go and jam in Julie’s garage. 

“Mom?” Julie called out as the girls entered the house. “Mom! You home?” 

Rose entered the hallway from the living room with a wide smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes that Violet hadn’t seen in years. The girl’s eyes widened upon seeing the curly-headed woman. She was alive. Alive and well and right in front of her. 

“You– you’re alive… Miss Molina… You’re alive. You’re actually–” Violet let out a surprised chuckle whilst tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re actually alive…” she breathed. 

Rose’s eyes darted from Violet to her daughter and the other girls before landing back on Violet. A light behind her eyes flicked on, signalling at the resemblance of the situation she had found herself in years ago. 

“I know what’s going on here,” Rose mumbled before heading into the kitchen. The girls exchanged glances before following the Latina woman. Violet and Julie took a seat at the table, opposite where Rose had taken a seat, while Carrie leaned against the counter where Flynn hoisted herself onto. 

With the girls’ expectant eyes on her, Rose heaved in a deep breath. “You’ve switched universes, haven’t you?” was the first question she asked. “You fainted and woke up in a world where you know the people but they lead completely different lives?” 

Violet’s mouth dropped, her eyes flicking to the other girls before focusing back on Rose. “Y-yes, that’s… That’s exactly what happened.” 

Rose smiled faintly. “I got myself in the same situation…” she admitted. “I was eighteen at the time and I had told my boyfriend at the time that I wished I lived in a world where he wasn’t such a jerk. Next thing I knew, I fainted and woke up in a world where my boyfriend was gay and my friends led completely different lives from mine. I was in a band, Rose and The Petal Pushers, and we were pretty famous there. All my other friends either didn’t talk to me anymore or were in my band.” 

Carrie and Violet exchanged a quick glance. That sounded an awful lot like them. 

“How did you get back here?” Flynn questioned from her spot on the counter. 

Fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist, Rose continued. “There’s this unfinished business I had to complete in that world and the Rose I knew had to do the same in mine. My unfinished business was getting Rose and The Petal Pushers in a band while the other Rose had to help find my boyfriend’s way out of the closet…” she smiled at the memory that floated back to the surface. “Aside from marriage and having two beautiful children–” she tucked a strand of Julie’s hair behind her ear with a smile, “The switch was the biggest adventure of my entire life.” 

“Wow, mom,” breathed Julie. 

Violet nodded her head, “That’s a crazy story, miss Molina.” 

Rose scoffed and reached for Violet’s hand. “Please, you call me Rose in this universe.” 

A smile landed on Violet’s cheeks. “Thanks for the reassuring story, Rose.” 

“I hope it calms your nerves and worries about all of this.” 

“It definitely does.”  

Rose smiled before patting the girl’s hand. “So,” she said, “What’s your unfinished business?” 

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TAGLIST |  MASTERLIST | PARALLELS MASTERLIST

[jaybear1701]

March 29, 1970

Astronauts are a rare breed, and Pam is still amazed that she, of all people, has a front row seat to the American heroes. A rather unique one at that, where she bears witness to facets usually shrouded from the rest of the country, catching glimpses of what lies beneath the carefully curated air of confidence and capability.

For all the stoicism of the likes of an Ed Baldwin, or the laid-back charm of a Gordo Stevens, there’s a thread of vulnerability that ties them together, tense and taut. It emerges as the nights wear on, and the liquor flows freely. Pam has bent her ear long enough to recognize it for what it is–an unspoken acknowledgment that, despite hours upon hours of meticulous preparation that can stretch for months or even years, the precariousness of their jobs means it could all go belly up without a moment’s notice. 

She observes this uncertainty–this fear –even in the ASCANs, every time they walk into The Outpost with one less candidate in tow. Pam makes sure to give an extra generous pour of whiskey whenever she sees the exhaustion in Tracy Stevens’ eyes or the weariness in Danielle Poole’s polite smile. Tries to make the already taciturn Ellen Waverly laugh whenever she folds ever inward into quiet solitude.

Yes, Pam knows the weakness of these titans of space. They know she knows. And though she’s an ally, and not quite a friend, her discretion makes her an honorary member of their exclusive club. But sometimes that privilege can be a bit too much. Too overwhelming to play unofficial therapist as she fixes cocktails and cracks open beer bottles for hours on end.

And so, she welcomes the breaks, and doesn’t hesitate to accept when her boss tells her to clock out early on a slow Sunday afternoon. It’s Easter after all, and even the astronauts know better than to spend it away from their families.

Pam’s halfway out the door, already in her own little world, when she nearly bumps into someone while crossing the threshold.

“Pam, hi.” Ellen, startled, takes a step back as Pam exits and lets the door swing shut behind her.

“Hey,” Pam greets, stomach fluttering in pleasant surprise.

In jeans and a white blouse, Ellen’s the most casual Pam’s ever seen her. She takes in Pam’s denim jacket and the purse slung over her shoulder. “You, uh, heading out?”

“Yeah.” Pam nods. “Got a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card for the rest of the day.”

“Oh.” 

Pam’s not sure if the flash of disappointment in Ellen’s brown eyes is a figment of her imagination. “Didn’t expect to see you here on a holiday.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Ellen shrugs sheepishly. “Took a walk and just ended up here, I guess.” 

Pam gives an exaggerated grimace. “I don’t know whether that’s sweet or sad.”

Ellen laughs. “Definitely the latter, for sure.”

Of all the ASCANs, Ellen’s the one Pam knows the least about. Not that she hasn’t been curious to know more about the introverted trainee. She knows better than to push, preferring to let people open up at their own pace. But when an opening presents itself…

“Won’t your family wonder where you are?” Pam ventures.

“Ah, family’s back in Connecticut.” Ellen slips her hands in her back pockets. “So…” 

She’s alone , Pam realizes with a swell of sympathy, and before she can think better of it, she blurts out, “You should come with me.”

Ellen’s eyebrows shoot up. “W-where?”

“Anywhere’s gotta be better than here.” Pam doesn’t know what she’s doing or why she’s doing it. But it just feels right . “I mean, unless you want to spend the rest of your holiday in this shithole. No judgment.”

To Pam’s relief, the corners of Ellen’s lips curl up. “Lead the way.”

It’s a beautiful spring day in Houston, still pleasantly cool as the days creep toward the heat of summer. Pam brings Ellen to her favorite park, where budding trees line the banks of a small pond in bright pastels of pink and green and white. The sun glints off the rippling water and, judging by the way Ellen’s eyes light up, Pam knows she made the right decision.

“So, how’s training going?” Pam asks as they walk side-by-side along a paved path that winds around the pond, taking their time.

“It’s…” Ellen squints into the distance before glancing sidelong at Pam. “Don’t you get tired of us unloading on you?”

The question catches Pam off-guard, and she doesn’t answer right away. “No one’s, um, ever asked me that.”

“Probably because a lot of us are narcissistic assholes,” Ellen says the expletive so matter-of-factly that Pam can’t help but laugh. “It’s true! You know it.”

“Not all of you.” Pam nudges Ellen’s shoulder with her own. “Listening’s part of the job.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t get tired of it,” Ellen points out, prompting a noncommittal hum from Pam. “I could go on and on about how it’s tough and stressful, but I’m guessing you’ve heard it all before. I’d rather know more about you.”

“I’m really not that interesting,” Pam deflects even as warmth prickles up the back of her neck.

“Try me.” Ellen looks at her with such open, genuine interest that Pam caves. She’s not quite sure what it is about Ellen that makes her want to open up, but she does and she goes with the flow.

She leads them to a row of empty benches situated beneath pergolas covered in plants that twist up and around wooden posts to create a tangled rooftop of sweet-scented blooms. 

“Let’s see.” Pam takes a seat and angles herself toward Ellen, who mirrors her. Their knees are almost close enough to touch. “Grew up in a small town outside of Austin. Got my bachelor’s in English from UT, to my parents’ deep and never-ending chagrin.”

“Which part didn’t they like, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ellen tilts her head to the side, curiosity etched across her pretty features.

“Take your pick. It was bad enough their only daughter wanted to go to college–because a woman’s place is always in the home, of course,” Pam rolls her eyes, “But she also had to go and pick a quote-unquote ‘useless’ degree.”

“It’s not useless,” Ellen says sincerely, once again surprising Pam. 

“Thanks, but I know it’s not exactly practical. I mean, not like an engineering degree or anything.”

“Engineering’s overrated.” 

Pam wrinkles her nose, incredulous. “Says the woman who’ll be up in space mapping out the universe in a few years.” 

“I’m serious,” Ellen insists. “Outer space is exciting, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I think people get too caught up in the external, when there’s still so much left unexplored within humanity’s…” Her hands grasp at the air as if the right words hang invisibly around them. “I don’t know… innerspace? And the arts navigate it.”

Lips parted, Pam is left speechless and, if she’s honest, a bit flattered.

“God, that’s cheesy, isn’t it?” Ellen winces.

“No, that’s…” Without thinking, Pam reaches out and brushes her fingers against Ellen’s knee. “That’s really sweet. Thank you.”

Gaze drifting down toward the brief touch, Ellen clears her throat and looks out toward the water, seemingly fascinated by a family of ducks floating along the surface. “You’re welcome.” A light shade of pink dusts her cheeks. “And so you ended up in Houston because?”

“Isn’t it every little girl’s dream to sling drinks in a NASA watering hole?”

Ellen chuckles. “Definitely was mine. Except I wanted to do it on the moon.”

Pam shakes her head, amused, very much enjoying this playful side of the normally staid astronaut candidate. Truthfully, Pam’s not even sure herself anymore why she’s remained in Houston. What had seemed like a good idea after college has slowly faded in the wake of her ongoing indecision about what exactly she wanted in life. 

“I figured Houston’s not too far from home,” she finally says. “But far enough away that I can figure out my shit without my parents’ constant disappointment.”

Ellen ducks her head, dark hair partly obscuring the wistful expression on her face. “I get that.”

Pam stifles a sudden and unexpected urge to smooth Ellen’s hair back behind her ear. She leans back and crosses her arms, to prevent herself from doing something monumentally stupid. “Are you saying your parents aren’t thrilled their daughter could be the first American woman in space?”

“Yes,” Ellen answers candidly. “And no. My parents are definitely proud. Supportive, even. But I also know they wouldn’t complain if I just settled down, got married, and helped with the family business.” Her voice is soft in its resignation, and Pam can’t help but empathize. 

“Expectations are a bitch, aren’t they?”

Ellen laughs, the sound musical, and Pam’s heart throbs without warning. “Yes,” she turns her head to capture Pam’s gaze. “Yes, they are.”

Ellen’s always been pretty–Pam’s not blind. But in the sunlight filtering through the canopy above them, she’s particularly radiant, and Pam quickly forces herself to tamp down on the warmth spreading through her chest. This isn’t the right time or place, and most definitely isn’t the right person, for those sort of feelings. 

“I, um, I’m glad I bumped into you today,” Pam says to fill the silence stretching slowly between them, self-consciously brushing her bangs to the side.

“Me too.” Ellen looks out over the water once again, wistful. “I had no idea this was even here.”  

“It’s not like you all have a lot of time to sightsee,” Pam points out. “But if you ever need a tour guide, you know where to find me.”

“Not sure about a tour guide,” Ellen glances at her, almost shyly, out of the corner of her eye, “but I wouldn’t say no to a friend.” 

Pam pretends to mull it over. “Yeah, I guess I could put up with you. Until you move to space, that is.”

“Oh, well, thanks for doing me that favor.”

“Don’t mention it, but don’t think this means you’ll get free drinks or anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ellen says with a gentle smile. 

Pam returns it, trying but failing to ignore just how light her heart feels. 

[drariellevalentine]

Can you do one shot for Ethan and Arrielle having a day off, maybe goin somewhere and or doing something mundane.

Ookay... here’s to my attempt at a one-shot!

Autumn Delight

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Rating:- Teen (reference to mature situations) other than that TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF

This is a submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Wonderful.

@wackydrabbles for the prompt “I won’t forget this.”

@choicesweeklychallenge for the prompt “You sure about that?”

Yes, don’t judge, I hit three birds with one stone.

Preview:- “The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.

General PoV:-

Spiraling streams of sunlight wash over Arielle as she turns around in bed. Or to be precise, his bed. “Good morning handsome…”, she says with a yawn.

“Good afternoon, beautiful...”, Ethan corrects with a smile.

Arielle shoots up out of bed, clad in a lavender lace top, hair like a bird’s nest. “Afternoon?! I’m late for work! Zaid is going to kill me!” Arielle scrambles out of bed and runs around the room in an attempt to find her clothes. Ethan chuckles, “What are you even doing?”

“Ethan, as much as I love your sexy morning voice, now is not the time! You might be Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey who can waltz in at any time but I’m still a resident!” Ethan watches the very amusing spectacle of Arielle getting dressed.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?!”, Arielle half-shouts as she tries to tame her hair.

“Well, I mean you don’t have work today. And to be honest, it is quite amusing.”

Arielle’s eyes go wide as she groans, “I forgot today was my day-off.”

“I figured.”, Ethan says as he gestures to her form. “Now come here..” Ethan lunges for Arielle, attackling her with tickles.

“Ethan! Stop! I’m hungry!”

“I’ll make whatever you want later...”, he replies before kissing her deeply,

“No! I want pancakes and I know for a fact you can’t make them.”

Hearing this, Ethan suddenly sits up looking at her with a raising eyebrow. “How did you”- Arielle smirks, “A girl’s gotta have a few secrets.”

“My dad told you, didn’t he?”

Arielle grins proudly, “He let it slip when I met him for the first time. Now, get ready. I want pancakes.” She gets up and walks towards the door when suddenly an arm loops around her waist, pulling her back. “Eeeeek!”

“And where do you think you’re going?”, Ethan asks as he spins her around to face him.

“To take a shower.”

“Well, I’m going to take one too.”

“Okay, so what?”

“We don’t want to waste water, do we?” Arielle rolls her eyes. “Oh really, you’re rolling your eyes at me?” Without missing a beat, Ethan swipes Arielle off her feet, quite literally, and heads toward the shower.

“Ethan!”

One productive shower later…

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Now I’m even more hungry!”

“Now you’re complaining? I didn’t hear you complaining when I”-

“Okay! I get it! Now, can we go? I’m all dressed!”

Ethan turns to look at you, his eyes slowly widen.

You smirk, Well?...”

“You look perfect.”

“But where are we going?”

“For a world-renowned diagnostician, you really can be sooo clueless sometimes. We’re going to iHop.” Ethan stares at you. “Did you not hear me? We’re going to ihop! And maybe Starbucks after.”, you say with a big smile.

“Alright, Starbucks I understand but ihop?”

You gasp. “You don’t know I hop?! The only place for amazing pancakes, waffles and more?! How long has it been since you’ve eaten pancakes?!”

Ethan shrugs. “Maybe 7, 8 years.”

“You’re joking!....right?” He gives you another look.”Okay, that’s it! We’re getting you pancakes! No one should have to live without pancakes!”

“Okay, we’ll go and get pancakes.”

“Not like that! No one sees you like this except for me.”, you say defiantly. He laughs as you rifle through his closet in search of clothes. You pull out a pair of jeans, a jacket and a v-neck shirt for him. ”Wear this and meet me downstairs!”, you shout as you head out, leaving him no choice but to obey.

Ethan’s PoV:-

“Can I drive?” You turn to your right and see Arielle giving you her puppy dog eyes as she fastens her seatbelt.

“No.”, you reply without looking at her. You know you’ll succumb to those eyes if you look at them.

“Why not?” You can see her pouting from the corner of your eye.

“Cause I say so. Now, where’s IHOP?

“Fineee...only cause I’m hungry. And give me a sec, let me pull up the directions.”

20 minutes later, you’ve arrive at a family restaurant which is surprisingly almost full.

“It’s almost 12:30 and these people want pancakes?”, you ask.

“Yes, and that includes us.” Arielle drags you out of the car and into the restaurant.

“Table for two?”, a lady asks.

“Yes please!” Soon, you’re both seated in a small but cozy corner booth.

“A waiter will be right here with your menus. And if you don’t mind me saying, you both make a lovely couple.”, the elderly lady says as she walks away. You cant help but smile at the comment as Arielle blushes.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just us two, away from all the chaos at work…”

“Hmm. It is.” Just then, a waiter arrives and gives you both a menu each. You open yours and start to look at the different varieties when suddenly Arielle slides in the seat next to you. You don’t say anything but instead put your arm around her and hold up the menu. She snuggles into your chest as she looks through the menu.

“Have you decided what you want?”, you ask.

“Mhm! What about you?”, she replies looking up. You can’t but help smile at her.

“I did.”

“Would you like to order now?”, a waiter asks.

“Yes, I’ll have the Southwest Scramble and the lady will have the short stack of French Cremé Brûlée Pancakes.”, you reply.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

Remembering what she said about going to Starbucks later on, you reply with, “Just water.”

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes, sir.” Arielle once again lays her head on your chest, you won’t admit it but you like it when she does that.

“You know me so well.”, she says out of nowhere.

“I thought you would ask something like, ‘How did you know?!”, he says horribly mimicking your voice.

“My voice doesn’t sound like that! And I know you better then you know yourself.”, she replies with a smile.

“Can we take a picture?” Normally, you would said no but when it comes to Arielle, it’s just impossible to say no.

“...fine. But only one.”

“Yay!”, Arielle squeals like a child. One of the things you lov- like about her, despite being 26 years old, she still has a bit of childishness.

A waft of smells captures your attention. You turn to see the waiter bring two steaming plates of food, setting it on the table.

Arielle brings her plate towards her and takes a bite. Her mouth drops open.

“What happened?”, you ask.

“It’s hot!” You hand her a glass of water, biting down to stop your self from laughing. She quickly drinks half of it, and doesn’t notice you laughing.

“Ahh, that’s much better.” She takes another bite, this time waiting for it to cool down.

Arielle doesn’t say anything, completely focusing on her stack on pancakes. You chuckle to yourself as you take a bite of your eggs. It’s quite good. Both of you enjoy the peaceful silence between the two of you as you eat breakfast...or lunch. You know better not to disturb her when eating.

Arielle’s PoV:-

A good hour later, you and Ethan are strolling down Boston Common in search of a Starbucks.

“The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.” You roll your eyes playfully.

You smile. “Next time I’m teaching you how to make them!”

“I look forward to that. Now, what do you want from Starbucks?”, he asks as you both enter Starbucks.

“I’m ordering my usual fall pumpkin spice latte.”

“Okay, go sit in a table. I’ll go order and be right back.”

“Such a gentleman, aren’t we today?”, you playfully say as you press your lips against his cheek.

“Oh really, maybe you need a reminder of last night?” You can see the smirk on his face. You can feel your cheeks heat up, so you quickly turn around and look for a place to sit. A few minutes later, Ethan slides in the seat opposite you. You notice the bill has more than two drinks but before you can see it, he tucks it in his pocket.

“Hey!”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Order for Ethan!”

“Be right back.” Instead of waiting at the table, you decide to meet Ethan at the counter. Ethan turns around, two drinks and a mysterious box in hand. “I thought I told you to wait at the booth.”

“I thought we’d go outside and enjoy the weather. It’ll be winter before we know it.”, you add with a lopsided grin.

“Quoting me, are we Rookie?”

“Just observing, Dr. Ramsey.”, you wink as you take your drink from him.

You spend the whole afternoon with Ethan, strolling around Boston Common, taking pictures and posting them and doing all of that hand in hand, every single minute.

By the time Ethan drives you to your apartment, the sun is almost gone.

“I had a really nice time today.”

“It’s not often I say this, but I agree.” You burst out laughing, soon Ethan joins you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“I would like that.” He gets out of the car and rides up the elevator with you. It’s been almost a whole day that you spent with him, but somehow it feels like it was only a few minutes. “Goodnight Ethan.”

“I would say goodnight, but we both know sleep is the last thing you’ll be doing.”

“Smartass.” You kiss him deeply once again then rest your head on his chest. He loops an arm around your waist. You both stay there for a few minutes when a sudden voice interrupts you.

“You both just gonna stand there, or are you coming inside Arielle?” You turn around to see Jackie, hands on her hips. You smile sheepishly.

You can hear Sienna’s voice ring throughout the apartment, “Jackie! I told you to leave them alone!” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Ah, Dr. Varma. This is for you and the other doctors. Arielle mentioned that you all liked the cake pops from Starbucks.” Ethan hands her the mysterious box.

“Oh um, thank you.” Jackie steps back inside sheepishly. You can still hear Sienna shouting, “Won’t you all leave those two alone?! The two have had to wait for God-knows-how-long!”

Ethan laughs, “She really is quite a friend.”

“You gave Jackie that box just to shut her up, didn’t you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, initially I bought the cake pops for you but I can buy you them anytime now.”

“You sure about that?”-

Ethan silences you with a kiss. “Mhm.” You both just stay there relishing the intimacy between you.

“I should go.” He nods. You walk up to the door but turn around just to say, “I won’t forget this.”

“Me either. Goodnight Arielle.” You smile as you head into your apartment, knowing that you’ll have many more days like today.

———————————————————

Author’s Note:- Hello loves! Hope you’re having a good day/night! If you’ve come this far, you’re amazing and thank you soo so so much for reading this mess of a fic. Sorry for any mistakes!

There will be a follow up post with some Instagram edits of what Ethan and Arielle did on their stroll so keep a look out!

Permanent taglist:- @nikki-2406 | @iemcpbchoices | @sizzlingcashherohumanoid | @archveexz | @deepikakkannan | @nishas-paradise | @maurine07 | @archxxronrookie | @adrex04 | @everythingchoices | @rivenni | @annekebbphotography | @mrsethanfreakingramsey | @jamespotterthefirst

Ethan x MC taglist:- @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @mysticaurathings | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot

Ask box taglist:- @aylaramseycarrera

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Love,

@drariellevalentine

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 1/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

Oh my god. I completely forgot there was also 2 haute couture weeks. I FEEL SO OVERWHELMED. Here I was getting all geared up for the F/W 2020 shows and suddenly it’s Jean Paul Gaultier’s last show and everybody’s (predictably) buzzing about the Jacquemus collection. I can’t keep up. But Haute Couture week is a lot less intense than the RTW shows so I suppose I should be enjoying this relative peace whilst I can. 

I remember my last post about Haute Couture week opened with me defending Maria Grazia from the wrath of the internet; if Jacquemus is social media’s Lord and Saviour, this woman is the Antichrist. She’s Michael Langdon minus the dramatic flair. But the thing is, I genuinely really liked the Dior collection last time. Maybe because I was newer to the discipline of scouring Vogue Runway, but the lack of originality didn’t bother me; it was still something I’d die to wear, gothic yet delicate and relevant for 2019. 

That being said, this time round, I have to open by doing the exact opposite and concurring: this time round, Dior was in fact, utter shit.

I feel mean saying it but...really? These were the slightly more salvageable outfits and my favourite of the bunch, and to be honest they don’t really capture the full extent of how outdated this collection was to me. I know that the concept behind the show was this idea of the divine feminine but Greek Goddess has been done SO many times. If you’re gonna go down that route, you have to bring something new, elevate it in some way. It can’t be THIS generic.

I can’t believe that in 2020 we’re really seeing plaited hairbands. The individual dresses are basic, but not so much the problem as the styling; they look like outfits I would’ve put together back in 2012. That’s not an exaggeration. I think even 2013 me would appreciate that you need to make things a little twisty. 

The colour scheme is pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I like the cowl necks-the white dresses are the highlights. I think the concept of this collection was conceived with all the best intentions. But as a designer you need to take risks and I don’t see one single risk here; there isn’t anything that wouldn’t already be sold in your local H&M. Dior is such an established brand, Maria Grazia has room to do whatever she wants. And yet it just comes across like she’s out of ideas. 

You’ve got to look at a designer like Ulyana Sergeenko:

When I say elevated (but still in the vein of wearable), I mean something like this. To be completely honest, I hadn’t heard of Ulyana Sergeenko until I saw shots of this show on Twitter. But what a perfect mix of kitsch and glamour. The influences are clear: Priscilla Presley, Barbie, Jackie O, Valley of the Dolls, the rich stay-at-home wife of the 60s, the Alessandra Rich/Scream Queens-esque sorority girl, Paris fucking Hilton. It’s exaggerated and it’s tongue in cheek with total grounds to call it trashy-there’s a corset resembling a Benjamin Franklin, ffs-but it’s all done with a wink and a nudge. And in all honesty, I just think it’s beautiful. Can you imagine Frances O’Sullivan (@Beautyspock on IG) in one of these looks? It would be worthy of the Rose McGowan cultural reset meme ten times over.

Everything is feline, from the very literal cat silhouettes and cat headed boa, to the makeup and the hair clips. It reminds me of the last RTW Ralph and Russo show but with even more attention to detail. And look at the STAGE. If this collection were a song, it’d be Disco Tits by Tove Lo. And no, I’m not just saying that because one of the dresses actually does feature a (cat shaped) disco tit. Like these are the clothes I dreamed of putting my Bratz dolls, and for null I’m sure, myself in. Absolute perfection. Plus, I’ve loved Coco Rocha since she was on The Face with Naomi Campbell; she is, after all, to thank for the iconic “check your lipstick before you come for me” line. Girl is really the martyr for all purple lipstick lovers, cut down in her prime by a pissed-off Naomi. 

Onto Alexandre Vauthier, which I also really liked. An interesting yet effortless blend of the old and the new, the masculine and the feminine, if I could sum this collection up in one word, it would be cool. I know, it’s not the most descriptive, but it pretty much sums up how I feel; I’m not AS gassed about it as I am about Ulyana Sergeenko or this season’s Elie Saab (wait for it), but it’s a fresh offering, even if the styles aren’t the most groundbreaking. Stand outs for me are the almost petticoat like, debutante dresses which have Elle Fanning’s name written all over them.

I was hard pressed to find favourites in the Armani Privé collection if I’m honest. I’m not saying it was awful, all I know is that it just isn’t my style. It’s all a bit TOO tailored for my liking, and kinda reminds me of the Zara pantsuits my Spanish teacher used to wear. In other words, I find it to be a bit dowdy. On a positive note, the colours, fabrics, and beading are all stunning, so I see that a lot of craftsmanship clearly went into it; I think my biggest issue is the styling and the shapes (or lack of) on show. I’m very much getting a 20s, flapper vibe and whilst that’s an era that fascinates me and that I appreciate was cutting-edge at the time, I’ve yet to see it be bought into the 21st century in a way that doesn’t look stiff or costume-y. 

Then there’s Azzaro. At the complete opposite end of the scale to Armani, it doesn’t look expensive, which I’m sure isn’t something any designer previewing their collection at haute couture week is striving for. BUT that being said, I’d be much more likely to wear something from this collection than I would from Armani Privé. I mean, I have no shot at ever wearing either but ya get me. 

Whilst I’m sure it or something similar has been done before, the mesh diamanté dress is exquisite and I’m a huge fan of the stacked gem chokers and belts. The whole collection looks like something a London socialite who parties by night but (deep breath in) plays in a shitty band so fancies herself a bit of a rockstar by day would wear (exhale) and as much as that doesn’t sound like a compliment, I mean it as one. I’m talking about the kind of person you’d see smoking outside a bar and think “I wish I was them but I am potato lol”. I mean, as far as faux fur and fedoras are concerned, I’m gonna find it hard to completely slate a collection so this is pretty up my alley.

Chanel was a huge step up from their last RTW collection, imo, and probably on par with their last haute couture offering. It’s that same blend of preppy Chanel detailing (i.e the exaggerated collars, the checks and the lace) and practicality, only even more austere this time round.

It’s funny because when I looked back on original notes on this collection, before I’d even done any research into the context, I saw that one of the things I’d written was “giving me Victorian orphanage madame” as well as “something something Amish” and I wasn’t THAT far off base. The collection is, after all, supposed to be a tribute to the nuns who raised Coco Chanel at the beginning of the century in an Abbey-cum-orphanage. This makes me really happy; I know not everyone’s a fan of Virginie Viard’s nods back to the past and the brand’s origins but as a history nerd, I definitely am. 

There’s also definitely a lot of things that can be translated into high street trends here: the combination of decorative white socks and black shoes is something I’ve seen making a comeback already, tulle is always a winner (I actually don’t mind it as an overlay, I think it’s pretty, sue me) and I have no doubt we’ll be seeing these dramatic collars creeping back onto tops and jumpers throughout the year. It’s been a while since they were a thing anyway and we all know how cyclical fashion is.

Another high note for Elie Saab this haute couture season; if I was an expressive person, I probably would’ve audibly gasped as I looked through this collection. It is SO FUCKING MAGNIFICENT. The colour scheme, the baroque prints, the floral sequinned embroidery, these are Cinderella style ballgowns taken to the next level. Elie Saab really is the definition of opulence and I’m not at all mad about it. Please, somebody put Lana Del Rey in one of these, PLEASE. Remind her how much of a princess she is and get her out of those “soccer mom” looks.

I’m so stuck between this collection and Ulyana Sergeenko as my favourite, and the latter might just pip the other to the post, purely because of the staging and extravagance of the presentation itself. 

Georges Hobeika was predictably phenomenal. Like, I’m not going to lie, I am easily won over by some sequins and tulle, I’ve never claimed any different, and if you can expect that from anyone, it’s this guy (ignore that phrasing making me sound like his proud mother). The colour scheme is very spring appropriate and so is the 3D flower detailing, and if there’s anything good to take from Ascot and English royal weddings, Georges Hobeika knows it’s the hats.

It was another strong year for Givenchy too:

Though Claire Waight Keller is also fond of the extravagant details along the lines of feather and tulle, it’s always done in a more organic way; the details are always more reminiscent of nature, something created by accident, than they are suggestive of painstaking attention to detail, the image of someone hunched over a dress beading for hours on end à la Georges Hobeika or Elie Saab. That is not a bad thing at all; if anything, it makes Givenchy more interesting to study and gives you more to think about. Sometimes a dress takes you a bit longer to fully appreciate, but I’d say that only lends to its memorability. This year’s willowy, billowing, and at times coral-esque structures  remind me of something I can see being worn down an Iris Van Herpen runway, set apart by that delicate Givenchy finesse. And side not: I know this post is to talk about the clothes, not the models, but I got super excited over seeing Sora Choi and Adut Akech walk too. 

Guo Pei is always fun to look at. I mean, this collection is giving me half Matryoshka dolls, half It’s A Small World Christmas edition and I can’t hate on that. 

And then there’s Iris Van Herpen, who knocked it out of the park once again. At this point, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Every outfit looks like something that could be exhibited in the Tate Modern (I know, it’s a basic opinion, but it’s true: TATE MODERN IS THE BEST MUSEUM IN LONDON), or honestly, the Design Museum, just for the genius that must go into the way these dresses move. Honestly, if I can see a goddess wearing anything, it’s more one of these looks than anything in the Dior collection. Like wife of Poseidon or something; I know it’s not very feminist of me to not know the Greek Goddess of the sea’s name but I only know who Poseidon is because I was a Percy Jackson fan back in the day so let me live.

It’s not like the whole under-the-sea theme is particularly new, Zimmerman did something similar last RTW (I think? Correct me if I’m wrong), but these constructions could’ve grown out of the sea bed themselves, which is more of an original take than “oo, blue and white and frothy hemlines!”. Additionally, we’ve got these dresses with the overlapping almost plaited fabric that are-we’re sticking with the goddess references here-fit for Persephone ruling over hell. As for the Grudge-looking dress (fourth down, far left), I could be reaching, but is anyone else seeing that as a nod to the oil spills polluting our oceans? Because that would just add yet another layer to this collection. 

Regardless, it’s all impeccable and I’m in love. Iris Van Herpen as a MET Gala theme. Make it happen.

Anyway, to end on a high note, that’s it for this post! 

Sorry it’s such a sudden cut-off but Jean Paul Gaultier was due to be my second to last to review and due to it being the final show, there’s an onslaught of photos that would not fit with what’s already in this post. Plus, I’d rather start a post with Jacquemus then end it as I feel like there’s a lot of hype around his collections online right now so 1). it’s clickbait (for what, I do not know, as I’m not exactly making any money off this blog, just losing my sanity as it transpires when Tumblr accidentally terminated it earlier today and I had a minor breakdown) and 2). this Steve Buscemi meme is the most accurate representation of only 21 year old me to grace the internet:

I will aim to post part 2/2 in the next week, including JPG, as I just mentioned, the Jacquemus co-ed show, Margiela, Valentino and more, and as always, thank you for anyone who read until the end! You are an angel:-)

Lauren x

[hrh-selene-r]

Beyond Words (4/?)

The Big Sweep

Eight years have come and gone, and it seems that everyone has moved on; Hannah has a new life with a Baby upstate, and even Ray found a bit of happiness in his life, but where does that leave Adam? Still in the same apartment with the same problems. Now, feeling adrift in the stagnation he finds himself in, Adam will try to break old habits and  see if he can grow-up. Something easier said than done, that is until he meets you.

This is a bit of a post series/retcon picking up from where Adam’s story left off in Season 6 episode 8 titled “What will we do this time about Adam?��

Adam Sackler x Reader

4.5K Words

Warning: Angst, break up, Depression, cursing.

It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.

It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.

‘Jesus. Fuck’ He fixes his hair fidgeting (well dreading, really) the confrontation to come. Her clinginess hasn’t stopped in the least, wanting to go out together, stay in together, have sex in their old haunts; she’s even been texting him more frequently. It’s not that he didn’t like the attention (or the sex), but Jessa’s always been aloof, and independent. If anything, Adam is the clingy one; things used to be so easy before but this change in dynamic was a bit jarring to him, to say the least.

‘She’s just making things harder’

He was a thousand miles away when he finally sat down, and in true Adam fashion, he doesn’t eat, so much as he scarfs down his meal; six eggs (four of them just the whites), and two slices of turkey bacon. It’s while drinking what’s left of his coffee that his phone alerts him of a new incoming text. Fishing it out of his pocket and saw that he had three texts; two from Luke, letting him know that he got the callback for the Jim Anderson play with the details of where it’s going to be, the other asking if he had finished reading another script that he’d sent him.

‘Yesssssss!!’ He cheered on the inside, holding in his urge to scream it out loud. Finally! At least some things were looking up.

The other text was from Jessa, making fun about one of her classmates, with a rather mean spirited snarky remark.

He scoffs a bit after reading it, her smarmy wit coming through her words. It's moments like these that remind him of their friendship, and their shared chemistry. The thought only served to churn his stomach, bringing to the forefront of his mind what he’ll tell her.

‘ “Look Jessa, I’ve been doing some introspection lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re better as friends and that I need some time apart” Too formal? No….Shit! “Jessa let’s be real, you would’ve left me in a few months anyway, so I’m doing us both a favor” ..’

“Motherfuck!” He hissed under his breath.

He looked at the time in his phone and got up. He has to get going, not wanting to be late to meet his building manager.

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

The building itself wasn’t too far, it was still in Brooklyn, not like he could afford anything more upscale, and even then, rents in the boroughs were outrageous; gentrification saw to that. But for all the artisanal ice cream boutiques and organic green tea, there’s a charm in Brooklyn that has captured his heart; for now, this was home. This place has seen his loves and loses and has seen him at his worst and at his best.

Adam walks up to the front steps where a woman is sitting on the stoop, seemingly waiting; looking at her phone as she does so. She looks up and sees him in the eye, causing him to look away awkwardly to avoid her thinking he was a creep or something, but her gaze was more curious than anything.

She tilts her head sideways to get a better look at him. “Adam?”

‘Do I know her? Oh fuck, have I fucked her?’ he thinks, his mid going through the roster of girls to see if he knew her from somewhere. “Yeah?” he asked cautiously after his mind came up blank. He doesn’t know her....at least he thinks he doesn’t know her.

“I’m Jaime. I’m the building manager? My dad probably told you about me when he showed you the apartment.” She explains, hopefully jogging his memory, as she gets up to face him.

“You’re Jaime?” He asks, taking a good look at her. Her hair is long and dark up, reaching up to her waist; her body, clothed in oversized jeans and a black tank top, is skinny but not too skinny as to make her look malnourished, her complexion is dark, coupled with deep brown eyes, a wide nose full glossy lips and a beauty mark above her left eyebrow.

“Yeah, were you expecting anyone else?” she smirked haughtily at him, making him to quickly reply out an answer to avoid any embarrassment.

“No! I just thought that I’d be meeting your dad.” he corrects himself and holds out his hand to shake her hand in greeting. She responded in kind, extending her hand to shake his. Her hand was adorned by wide silver rings in her fingers, her nails were decorated with an orange nail polish that was mostly chipped away.

“He got held up, asked me to do it. Legally I can, as the building manager. So, you ready to sign?”

“Uh, Yeah.” he answers her as she gestures for him to follow her, leading him up the stairs to what will be his new apartment.

Climbing three flights of stairs, standing in front of a door marked ‘3A’, Jaime places the key in the lock and opens the door before gesturing for him to go in.

The apartment itself was big, or big for New York standards, at least, It was a one bedroom apartment, complete with a separate living room, the bathroom was down the hallway, and with a small kitchen right next to what could be converted to a small dining room. It suited him. The apartment was eerily reminiscent of the one he lives in now, the most remarkable difference is that the kitchen has a separate countertop for a bar, not to mention that the living room was roomier, with a tall window providing the space with a good amount of natural light.

It was thankfully in his budget, and that’s what mattered to him the most, nevermind the fact that he basically found an affordable apartment with this much space; which to be clear, is nothing short of impossible.

The pair start to walk into the empty living room space. “You’re lucky you were able to snag this place. We haven’t gotten the word out yet, or anything about this place. So you got the exclusive first look.” Jaimie mentions as she walks to the kitchen counter, grabbing the papers and the pen.

Not knowing how to respond to her and him having his own special brand of social skills , Adam just answers with a simple “Yeah.”

“If anything you’re lucky you know Ray, being on the city council makes you meet a lot of people in the community; and stick-in-the-mud Ray knows a lot of people.” She smiles at him.

“Yeah well we’ve been friends for a while, now.” He replies to her with a polite smile back.

“Yeah. Anyway, this is the contract.” Jaime changes the direction of the conversation to the issue at hand, sliding the contract file in his direction with a pen in her hand.

“Sign here, and here….I need initials here.” She directed him as he started to sign the papers, trying to keep up with her quick directions.

Once it was finished, she handed him a stack of papers. “Okay, so this is your copy of the lease, and these are your keys. Heads up.” She dangled the keys before throwing them in his direction for him to catch, moving towards the exit to leave to the privacy of his new place. Stopping at the door, Jaimie looks back to face him as he turns around to face her.

“So you already know my name. Rent’s due on the first. If you need anything, my apartment’s on the first floor; apartment ‘1B’. If you need me but I’m not in, just slip a note under my door. ‘Kay? Any questions?”

“Uh, nope.”

“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam Sackler. Welcome to the building.” With that she gave him a small smirk and waved goodbye, shutting the door behind her on her way out; leaving him alone with his thoughts in his new apartment.

It’s official now, he can’t put it off anymore. He’s following the advice Ray gave him; hell, even Josh said it. Here, in the emptiness of his new space, in the bright white light of day, he finally sees what he’s been avoiding for so long.

He loved her, he cared for her, but was he ever in love with her?

He was just as quick to get back to her as soon as he realized that things with Hannah wouldn't work out. He quickly left Jessa once he found out that Hannah was pregnant and….’I don’t know.’ ‘Maybe I’m with her ‘cause it’s easy...I’m so fucked up!’ Adam furiously scrubbed his face with both hands, breathing deeply and exhaling through his nostrils.

Alone, in the middle of the empty apartment, bathed in the light from the windows, he knew. It was just like that time; he knew what he had to do.

It was time to rip the band-aid off.

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

Later in the day, after doing a few errands he had to do for the new place, Adam was standing outside of his (old?) apartment building. Looking at the window of the apartment, he takes a deep breath, gathering his bravery to face the situation.

He makes the journey up the stairs, and opens the door. The apartment is empty, judging by the hour, Jessa’s probably still in class. Taking advantage of the circumstances, he starts packing up his things; his mind making a list of the things to take with him .

‘My clothes, books. It's a good thing I don’t have a lot of stuff. I can buy food, and I already got a bed taken care of. I’m gonna have to come back for my work out stuff, my weights and the bench at least.’

Little by little Adam starts to take his favorite things, taking his time to consider what to leave behind. A practice he’s by now well-used to.

The front doors opens and in walks Jessa, her hair in a bun, wearing a loose red tee shirt with denim blue high waisted jeans, the bags in her hand suggest she bought something.

“Hey you in?!” Her voice rings through the small apartment, reaching Adam’s ears, causing him to freeze, inwardly flinching in anticipation of what’s to come. ‘Time to face the fucking music. *sigh*’ He moves out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find her putting things away on the fridge.

“Heeeeeey.”

“I brought some groceries since the fridge was empty.” she told him casually, her head buried inside the refrigerator as she took things from the bag and placed them inside.

“You have a good day?” His stance is awkward, his hands behind his back as he debated on how to best start the conversation; break it to her while hoping to god that she takes it well.

“Not bad, Nancy is a fucking cunt, but that’s just her. Either way…” Jessa approaches him, pulling him for a kiss, smiling as she does so “She’s just irritates me, so...how was your day?” Her hands run through the familiar course of his chest sweetly. A small shrug moved his shoulders nonchalantly as he looked at her. Was this really it? “It was okay, I did a few errands.”

Hearing this her brow furrowed a bit, looking into his eyes as he stared at her. “You did errands, what errands? Didn’t you have an audition?”

“Yeah, look can we talk?” He asks as he nervously fidgets, gesturing for them to sit down on the couch. If there’s something that can be said about Adam is that he’s as subtle as a hammer.

Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he nervously passes a hand through his hair, trying to find a way to get what he needed to say out. Jessa looked at him curiously, waiting for him to talk but finding herself growing impatient as the seconds passed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She urges calmly.

Adam’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, both of his hands pressed against his face as his fingers covered his eyes. “This isn’t something that I wanna have to tell you. I know this isn’t fair to you, especially after the whole thing with Hannah.”

“I’ve been doing some introspection, or whatever, and um...I’ve been going to meetings…”

“You’ve been going to meetings?” She interrupted, concern etched on her her face as her brows lifted before furrowing in thought.

“Yeah.”

“Well. Have you been drinking?”

“No!” He answered urgently. “I just…” Adam’s lips tense into an outstretched line for a brief moment while he finds a way to verbalize his thoughts.

“I’ve been going to meetings and taking time to think….And…” A few seconds pass. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath in a sigh. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I; that WE..need time apart.” His eyes searched hers for any indication of understanding or sympathy, but they found nothing. Her gaze was blank as she was deep in thought as he spoke. “ Look, this has nothing to do with Hannah. Whatever she and I had. It’s over, it’s finished.” His baritone voice is soft and calm as he tries to sound as serious as possible. In his mind he is an adult trying to have a serious conversation with his partner. Gone is the lovable boyish demeanor he usually carried; replaced with a grim faced man as he leans over to look at her. His elbows rest on his knees and clasps his hands together, giving away his anxiety.

“I never told you how sorry I am for that...and I hurt you. It’s just that, I don’t know if it was filming the movie or if it was just life in fuckin’ general, but I was reminded of what Hannah and I had. I felt it, so I felt that there was too much history there to not try and set things right. To help her, and be there for her.” The sound of his voice reverberated through the small apartment as he looked at the floor. “ But we’re too different now and want different things. And...Now I feel like I need some space to figure shit out alone. Not just for me, because I really do care about you, Jessa.”

Jessa looks at the ground in silence, not wanting to look at him in the eyes and see her worst nightmare.

“I’m gonna be moving out, take the time to focus on my life. You can stay here, keep most of the stuff. I’ll still pay for your classes. I meant what I said.”

Jessa nods slowly, pursing her lips while processing his words.

“Okay...if that’s how you feel.” Her tone is a bit above a whisper, feigning understanding in her short words. She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her legs on the couch with a nonchalant expression. Like everything else, nothing fazes her.

Adam scoffs at her response, unable to believe how she can be so calm while he was essentially breaking up with her. No, he saw what this was. “ Oh, come the fuck on Jessa, this is just like last time. Do you seriously not give a fuck? I know you feel something. Get angry; hit me, throw something at me. For fuck’s sake, it isn’t good to bottle everything in...Just tell me how you feel.”

A deep sigh went through her nose, her eyes showed that something was beneath the surface as she shakes her head slightly and looks at him. “What do you want me to say? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re communicating; and if this is how you feel, then there’s no point in fighting against it.”

‘Un-fucking-believable.’ Adam moves his left hand towards his cheek, lightly scratching at the hairs in his stubble. “That doesn’t mean that you’re not feeling anything; that your feelings aren’t valid.” He lets out a breath of frustration as he realizes that she put up her walls to him and she won’t budge. ‘The hitting and screaming would’ve been better.’ “Fine.”

Keeping with her attitude, Jessa clicks her tongue and leans back lazily before asking the dreaded question. “So when do you move out.”

“I was thinking about leaving today.”

“Oh...so you have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. My stuff’s mostly packed, and I’ll come back for the rest later...But I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Adam, stop worrying! You’ve done nothing wrong. If you feel you have to do this; you gotta do what you gotta do.” A sardonic smile graces her face. She makes everything sound so simple; black and white.

He gently grabs her tattooed wrist in his large hand and looks deeply into her green eyes, trying to find a way to get through to her, to really talk to her.

“Hey..I still care about you. okay?” He told her gently, almost as if she were a child.

“Yeah.” Her response was short and curt.

Her walls remain up; impenetrable in their might as she refuses to show him, to show the world an ounce of vulnerability. A defense mechanism that took years in perfecting. An aloof facade she shows the world.

Jessa moves to get up, leaving him alone. Adam’s well aware that this was just a front, Jessa hasn’t changed,. He couldn’t tell how bad it was, but he’s doing this for her too. He knew it’d be worse if he stayed.

No other words were said as she sat crossed legged in their bed, smoking a cigarette while he finished packing. In the back of her mind she wonders if this is what being in a relationship is really like; being off and on, having that person come in and out of your life….It’s what her father did. ‘No’ She knows that’s not true. She’s seen people get married, have families and be happy. And besides, Adam’s not remotely like her father, he’s not like the previous men in her life. He’s different.

She moves to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass or orange juice, pretending that nothing is wrong, desperately trying to ignore his presence. She found it unbearable to watch as he left her for a second time. This time she’s more aware of her feelings for him, and she dreads what will become of them, of her while watching Adam go in and out of the apartment; getting his things downstairs.

He tried to be as quick as possible; throwing this mindlessly into garbage bags, making sure he took only what was important to him.

The hardest part about breaking up is trying to leave and stay on good terms. And he’s attempting to do just that. He figured that if he could do it with Hannah, maybe it was possible with Jessa.

Adam reached into his pocket and fished out his keys, he placed them on the counter beside the sink.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” He said awkwardly, looking at her one last time. His mouth is etched in a pout and his eyes are sullen at her lack of reply, but he still waits a few seconds for her, almost as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even look at him as he made his way out of the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, Adam takes a moment to just stand there, his mouth still set in a pout, his brows furrowed as he feels the weight of what’s happened.

Both lovers stand on either side of the closed door, each hoping that the other would take a step forward to open the door; to go back to the other, but neither one does. Adam stays there, feeling the guilt over what he’s done slowly spread; lamenting not just the loss of his lover, but the loss of his best friend.

‘It had to be done. There’s no point in staying anymore.’

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

Inside of the apartment, Jessa just stood there, staring at the door; willing him to come back to her. Her face morphs from boredom to one of pure heartbreak. Her eyes start to water as her breathing changes to an erratic pace.

In the cold emptiness surrounding her, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Her mask vanishes, revealing the abandoned girl underneath, watching as her friend walked out of their home and her life.

This time she can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt; can’t deny the devastation she feels as her world blurs. She places the palm of her hands over her eyes as the tears overflow.

‘He’s done this before, and he came back; he’ll do it again.’ She reasons in her desperation, clinging to the idea that Adam will be back, that this is just a pattern. Because the alternative would be to accept that he left her for good.

‘Fucking Hannah!’ As she cries her thoughts become more chaotic. ‘Don’t go. Don’t do this to me.’ Her inner voice cries as she slides slowly towards the floor, bringing her knees towards her chest.

‘This is just how he is.’ She reasoned, still expecting him to come back, her mind repeating his last words over and over. He did say he cared about her, he still loved her; but as she continued to reason his return, a small part of her feared she was just clinging to an empty promise, that she was stupidly holding on to hope...and that he really did leave her.

The silence inside the apartment is maddening, the space is cold; isolated from the world filled only with her small cries.

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

He should be used to moving, considering how often he did in the past eight years, but no, it was always a bitch. And the worst part about it? Doing it because of a break up. To say that it was awkward was an understatement, but he needed to end things well off with Jessa. God knows he’s ran into people from his past before enough times to know better. New York may be populated by millions of people, but it can turn into a very small place, when Karma feels like it. It’d be worse if he didn’t do it this way, he’s sure of it.

After getting the last of his things upstairs, he starts unpacking bit by bit. He doesn’t have a refrigerator yet, or a bed for that matter; those come in tomorrow, but Adam has been through worse, and one day without furniture hardly phases him. That being said sleeping on the floor isn’t something he’s looking forward to. Plus, this is what friends are for isn’t it? ...to crash on their couch when needed?

Adam takes his phone out, scrolling through the few contacts saved in it. He could ask Ray; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d stay at his place, especially after a breakup. He could also ask Josh, he had offered his couch to let him crash before; maybe the offer’s still on the table.

‘Screw it.’

He hits on Josh’s contact and places the device next to his ear, waiting for a response on the other side of the line.

“Hey.” Josh’s deep voice sounds through the phone’s speaker.

“ Heeeey...listen, I got a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble, or whatever.” Adam started nervously, scratching his head as he talked.

“Yeah, man. Shoot.”

“I broke up with Jessa.” He blurted out. “I moved out.”

There was a slight silence on the line before Josh responded. “Well, shit. Do you need a place to stay? Until you find something?”

“I already got a place. I just need a place to crash until I can get the bed and fridge brought in here.”

“ Well you’re in luck, then. I’m actually on my way back from work. I gotta stop to pick up a few things and then I’m headed home.” Josh explained in his easy-going tone; like nothing bothers him at the moment. “ I’ll let Vanessa know; she’s coming over tonight.”

Adam hesitated “ I don’t wanna shit on your plans.”

“ Oh, fuck off. You’re not. Dude, trust me, Ness loves you. She’d be pissed if I didn’t help out. My sofa es su casa.”

Even though Josh can’t see him, Adam smiles at his friend’s words; his teeth peeking out from his lips and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he does so. “ Yeah, okay. Just let me know when you’re at home. Text me or whatever.”

“You got it. Tonight we’re eating homemade Mexican food.”

“Yeah, Thanks.”

“Alright, see ya.”

With that, Adam hung up, comforted in the knowledge that he’ll be able to sleep in a comfortable, and most importantly cushioned, tonight. At least now he had a place to call his, and by pure stroke of luck, the apartment’s rent wasn’t as high as it could be. He’ll furnish it, little by little. He lives in New York, so someone’s bound to not want a couch somewhere. That leaves the matter of his kitchen. He’d have to buy glasses, plates and food, to at least have the very basics.

‘A bookshelf in the living room. I’ll put my bench in the bedroom...clothes go in the closet, I gotta get a chest or something with drawers..’

He turns to pick up the trash bags storing his clothes, taking them through the small hallway towards his bedroom closet. He’d have to do laundry before the end of the week, he reminded himself as he realized that he was in such a rush to pack everything that he didn’t think that some of his shirts in the bag used to be strewn across the floor of the apartment and stank of sweat.

He spent the next few hours doing what he can, organizing his clothes between what’s clean and what was to be laundered, he took his time to make sure everything was arranged to his liking; a far cry from how he was living 8 years ago. Back when he was an aimless mess living in an apartment cluttered with tools and random pieces of reclaimed wood; when he would rather fuck around with no strings attached than be emotionally vulnerable with someone.

To Adam, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Gone was the aloof fuckboy with an awkward haircut and no direction. Now in his place stands a more empathetic and responsible man.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard his phone come to life, sounding an alert to let him know he had just received a text and prompting him to look for it. Reaching for his back pocket, he fishes out his phone to see a message from Josh came in saying ‘Just got in.’ on the lit up screen. He’d finish unpacking later; now he was hungry, and Mexican seemed like just the thing…

——————————————————

Hey guys, I’m baaaaack!!!! :D

2020 has been a hell of a year, but I still wanted to end it on a good note. So here we have a short but sweet chapter where Adam wants to leave Jessa to focus on himself, but he knows how fragile and lonely she can be and tries to do it gently....Does it work? We'll have to find out. Safe to say, Jessa will be a reoccurring guest star on this show, so we’ll see how Adam handles this and how he manages to move on. So, leave a comment and let me know what y’all think.

Mucho Love and and a happy New year!!😊

Xoxo Selene R

Tag list for some friends (let me know if you’d like to be added) 

@kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @tsarinastorm @alexdaleks @thrivingamidstchaos @klauscarolove @misskitred @ah-callie @sarcasticbitch @jynz-andtonic @oh-adam @commanderbensolo @kylos-wren @adamsnackler @patersonn-kylo @adamsnacc-kler @ellelaconiwrites @that-only-exists-in-my-mind @ktellmeastory @fallinallinmendes @noocturnalchild

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Letters To A Boy Who’ll Never Read Them

A/N: Kinda inspired by To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. Anyone who knows me will see how much I projected on this but oh well. Also, this is the longest fic I’ve ever written! (Which is kinda sad I guess but oh well)

Summery: The letters to Peter were never supposed to leave that box 

Word count: 2.6k+

Warnings: I like half proof read this so probably some typos

Peter Parker was a boy you liked to admire from afar. You’ve gone to school with him for the past three years and were yet to feel the courage to talk to him. The first time you laid eyes on the curly haired boy, you were a goner. Everything about him was perfect to you, even if he was considered a nerd by most others. You liked to imagine that he felt the same towards you, but you were sure he never took a second to register your face among the hundreds at Midtown. 

And maybe you owed that to how perfectly average you were. Sure, you were fairly smart, but so was everyone else at the school. You were pretty enough, but it wasn’t something that set you apart from everyone else. You blended into a crowd like a chameleon on a green wall. 

Your one special talent, if it could even be called that, was your writing. Your teachers always commented on the eloquence of your essays and your friends liked to ask you to come up with witty captions from their Instagram posts. You were even on a competitive writing team.

 Writing was the one thing that set you apart, but it was something that went unnoticed by the majority. 

Unbeknownst to you, Peter Parker was very aware of your presence in a room. Your “average” beauty was more than average to him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d known that he liked you, but he guessed that it started around the first time he read one of your essays. Your way with words was something he would never stop admiring. He was a science kid, through and through but he could see your passion for writing even in the simple essay you had to write about symbolism in Lord of the Flies. 

He wanted to talk to you and ask you just how you did it, but there was always something holding him back. You were either hanging out with your small group of friends and he didn’t want to interrupt or you were studying quietly in the library and he was sure you wanted to be alone. He never seemed to have the courage to talk to you and he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

So he never approached you. In the three years he had known your face he never spoke a word to it. Every class that you had together never required a group project and assigned seats that were never next to each other. Sometimes, it felt like fate was keeping you apart. 

~

You kept a container under your bed. There wasn’t anything that special about it originally. You put some stickers on there when you were a little younger. There was no reason in particular that you did it, you just had some stickers and wanted to put them to use. You ended up sticking it under the bed eventually and left it there for a while. 

There was a day when you got sick of keeping your crush at bay. It wasn’t all that long after you “met” Peter. Who knew that staring at the back of someone’s head could make you like them so much? 

So you did the thing you knew best; write. 

You wrote him a letter. A letter you hoped he would never read because it was too embarrassing for him to see. 

Dear Peter, 

How does one tell you they love you? Perhaps I could tell you in this letter, but a letter alone could not capture the raging feelings I have for you. The butterflies I feel when you walk in a room, the sense of calmness I feel when I see you smile, the giddiness when you shoot your hand up to answer a question. Not a day goes by that I fear I won’t see that smile again. But that doesn’t come close to the fear that you’ll never see me. For I am little more than another face in the crowd. I’m average and you are anything but. I wish this letter could make you see me, but I doubt anything really can. I hope this is a letter you’ll never read, but fate has ways of changing the things we want. Maybe, some day, you can be mine. 

With love, 

                 The girl I wished you’d see

You read the letter once over and weren’t sure what to do with it. You obviously couldn’t give it to Peter but you didn’t want to get rid of it. 

Your eyes caught sight of the container under your bed and you grabbed it, folding the note and putting it in there. You placed the container back under the bed and worked on more homework, hoping that somehow, the letter would rid you of your feelings. 

Over time, the container accumulated more letters. From little notes to full length letters describing how you felt, they never left that container. You even wrote “Dear Peter” in sharpie on the side. There were things you hoped you could mention in the hallway as you passed him and things you could only hope he would never know. 

From

Dear Peter, 

Your smile makes me happier than One Direction. 

To

Dear Peter, 

Sometimes, I fear that you’ll realize that you’re too smart and kind for the people at Midtown to treat you like they do and that you’ll leave. Sometimes, I wish I could be the one to make it better. 

You never told anyone about the container. It was something you felt was too personal to share. Even if your friends knew all about your crush on Peter, you weren’t sure you trusted them with the things you wrote to him. 

~ 

“Alright, I’m gonna get changed,” you said to your friend, Becca, as you grabbed your pajamas and headed to the bathroom across the hallway. The two of you were having a sleepover and you didn’t want to be in jeans while you watched movies. 

Becca twisted the ring on her finger as she waited for you when it accidentally came out of her grasp and rolled under your bed. 

“Oops,” she said to herself as she kneeled on the ground to get it. She swiped her hand under the bed before she found it, curiosity striking when she felt the box it was resting against. She looked down and was met with the container, the “Dear Peter” in your handwriting facing her. 

“What’s this?” She pulled the container out enough to see the folded letters sitting in it. She pulled one out and read part of it.

Dear Peter,

I love you. There, I said it. Well, wrote it, I guess. But that’s as bold as I can be right now. I’m still the girl you’ve never seen; the girl you’ll never see. 

The sounds of your footsteps interrupted her reading and she quickly put the letter back, shoving the container under your bed. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, seeing her kneeling on the ground. 

“Oh, my ring dropped.” 

You smiled. “You need to stop dropping that thing, my gosh, Becca.” 

“I know, I know,” she chuckled. 

Later that night, when you were asleep, Becca took some of the letters and shoved them in her bag. There were tons of notes in there. Surely, you wouldn’t notice if five of them were gone. Maybe she could get these to Peter. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do behind you back, but she was sick of hearing you swoon over the boy. Just because you were oblivious to the yearning looks Peter gave didn’t mean she didn’t see them. 

The next Monday at school, Becca didn’t hang out at your locker for long, claiming that she needed to go to the bathroom before class. While you went to class early, she pushed the letters in through the crack of Peter’s locker. All she could do now is hope that Peter knew what to do next and that you wouldn’t kill her. 

~ 

“Dude, did you even read the chapter last night?” Peter asked Ned as they walked to his locker. 

“Of course not. Why do you think I’m asking you about it now?” 

Peter scoffed as he put the combination to his locker in. “What if everything I just old you wasn’t true?” 

“You would never-”

Ned was cut off by a few pieces of folded paper flying out of Peter’s locker. Peter picked one up, reading the short message written in small handwriting. 

Dear Peter, 

Your eyes are like the midnight sky. Dark and mysterious yet beautiful. 

“What is that?” Ned asked, reading it before Peter could move it out of eyesight. 

“I don’t know. Maybe someone’s putting notes in people’s lockers or something.” 

“Then why do you have four others in there?” Peter closed his locker, leaving the rest of the notes in there. 

“Aren’t you going to read them? What if Y/N finally confessed her love to you?” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “She is not in love with me. And I’ll read them later.” 

Little did Peter know that Ned was right. As he read the notes later, he couldn’t help but wonder what led you to put such personal and deep notes in there. 

Dear Peter, 

It’s me again. I know I’ve written a million notes for you, but I don’t know what else to do. I am helplessly and completely head over heels for you. You and your cute sweaters, your genius brain, that little smile you get when you know all the answers to a test. I’ll probably be stuck writing letters to you ‘till the day I die, but oh well. You are the sun and I am a small blade of grass in the middle of a field. You are the ocean and I am one of the thousands of fish. You are you and I am just me. Maybe one day I’ll gain the courage to tell you that to your face, but until then, I remain the little fish in the big pond. 

Sincerely, 

                The little fish, 

                                      Y/N 

Dear Peter,

Yeah, you’re Peter Parker and I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N but what if you were Peter Pan and I was Wendy Darling? (That sucked, I’m sorry but not really)

Love, 

         Someone who wishes they were your darling

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He had been dreaming about you for years and all of a sudden you just threw some love letters in his locker? 

Of course, it could be fake. It was a little elaborate to be fake though. Ned couldn’t write like that and nobody else knew about his crush on you. Maybe it was an actual dream come true. 

~ 

“Hey, Y/N!” Peter called when he saw you standing at your locker the next day. He didn’t know what you were doing there since it was a lunch period but it didn’t matter. He walked towards you quickly, one of the letters subtly stuck to his side. 

You gave him a confused look. He knew who you were? Since when? 

“Hey, I uh . . . I got your letter.” 

“What letter? I never gave you a letter.” You closed your locker and turned to face him fully, arms crossed as you leaned onto it. 

“Well this letter says it’s from you. Unless there’s another Y/F/N Y/L/N in this school I don’t know about.” He held the letter up and your eyes widened. You snatched it out of his hands and scanned over the message. Yup, it was definitely yours. 

Dear Peter,

I love you. There, I said it. Well, wrote it, I guess. But that’s as bold as I can be right now. I’m still the girl you’ve never seen; the girl you’ll never see. I keep telling myself that if I can confess these stupid feelings behind the pen, then I can do it in person too. But that day hasn’t come yet. I guess it’s like liquid courage but with ink. Ink courage? That’s weird. 

That wasn’t even the end of it. There was a lot more on the page, things that even if you were to tell him how you felt, you would never want him to know. And you were absolutely mortified. 

“How did you get this?” 

“I don’t know. I was in my locker the other day. There were like four others with it.” 

“Four?” You stared at him like you had just seen a ghost. 

“Yeah four. This was the deepest though.” He had a shy smile, but you couldn’t even look at him. 

“You were never supposed to see this.” You leaned your head on the locker and brought a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t know how it made it to you.” You’ve never told anyone about the box of letters. 

“Well-”

“I’m so sorry you had to read that, Peter. It must be so weird. You don’t even know me. I’m really really sorry. You were never supposed to read it.” 

You looked like you were about to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Thank goodness nobody else was around to witness it. 

“Hey, no. It’s okay. I thought it was really sweet.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it softly. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he had an urge to comfort you somehow. 

“You don’t think it’s weird that some girl you’ve never talked to is writing love letters to you?” You finally let your hand fall and glanced up at him quickly, reverting your eyes to the ground when he made eye contact. 

“No, it’s really cute actually. Just because we’ve never talked doesn’t mean I don’t know who you are.” He looked sincere, but that did little to relax fear and embarrassment swirling inside of you. 

“You know, Y/N, I’ve always thought you were cute too.”

Your head snapped up quickly, banging on the locker and causing you to grimace. 

“You okay?” He immediately stepped closer and took your head in his hands, checking to make sure you hadn’t really hurt yourself. 

Warmth spread through your body like a fire. The feeling of his hands was a little more comforting than you cared to admit. “Yeah, it’s just a locker. I’m a little tougher than that,” you laughed softly. 

“Just making sure.” He smiled sheepishly and pulled his hands away. 

You stood there, staring awkwardly staring at each other's shoes until you spoke up.  

“So can we agree to just forget about this and never speak of it again?”  

“Only if you will go on a date with me.” 

Your head shot up and you hit it on the locker again. Peter laughed and you sighed as you took a step away from it.

“I really need to stay away from lockers apparently.” Peter smiled a little wider and you swore your whole word was on fire. “But yeah, I’d really like to go on a date with you,” you said shyly, scratching your neck as a surge of nerves pulsed through your body. Peter Parker actually just asked you on a date. 

“I’ll make sure to go somewhere without lockers.” 

“Oh, how considerate of you.” 

“We should probably get to lunch.” 

“I’ll walk you there.” 

“To the cafeteria?” 

“Where else? Unless you want me to follow two steps behind you like some creepy stalker.”

“No, no, that’s okay. I guess you can walk me.” 

“What a privilege.” 

“It is actually. You get to walk with the Y/F/N Y/L/N.” 

“True, true.” You both turned and walked in the direction of the cafeteria, smiles on your faces. 

“Happen to have any more of those letters?”

“Oh you have no idea.” 

~

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