#told a girl once that she was pretty in french when i first met her and she straight up told me she was going to flirt with me

[vulpinesaint]

no actually you see it's a simple misconception. i'm not learning french to be fluent i'm learning it to impress pretty girls

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[vinylfoxbooks]

June 11 - Disagree | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 877 Part 4 Part 3 and Part 5 | Part 1

“What do I need to wear?” Regulus asks over the phone.

James huffs a small laugh, playing with Harry, “You don’t need to dress up, love. Just wear what you normally do.” 

“But I- this is your ex-wife, James. This is the mother of your child, James.”

“It’s also your brother and Remus.” James counters, “You know them, you don’t have to worry about it.” 

“Agree to disagree.” Regulus grumbles.

James leaves Harry to play with his toys while going back to working on the food, “If you really want to dress up a bit more, just wear one of your nice button ups and slacks.”

“That’s so vague, James.”

James sighs, a mix between fond and frustrated, “Wear that nice silky black button up you have and those cute pants that Pandora put the flowers on. Then you accessorise as you please.”

Regulus is quiet for a moment, probably mentally cataloging the outfit and thinking it through before he hums, “Yeah, that. Yeah that works. That feels nice. Thank you James.”

“It’s not a problem, love..” James smiles, despite knowing that his boyfriend can’t see it, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“It’s happening at your place.” Regulus says, sounding more like he’s reminding himself than he is asking. James hums his agreement nonetheless and he hangs up a couple minutes later, telling Regulus that he has to finish making the food. 

Hours later, Lily has shown up at the house with her new girlfriend in tow -- a girl named Mary that she met through work and has been telling James about. James is quick to pull Lily into a hug with a kiss pressed to her cheek and take the container of bitterballen that they brought along with them from Mary’s arms. James puts the container near the pastels that James just finished then disappears into the kitchen once again. 

After a while, Remus and Sirius barge into the house holding platters of welsh rarebits that they leave in the kitchen.

Eventually, James has pretty much finished cooking and the family is all sitting around, just waiting for Regulus to show up -- which he texted ahead of time and informed James that he was going to be a bit late after a bit of a run in with his roommates -- chatting, and playing around with Harry. 

And when the doorbell rings one last time, James is the first person to stand up. When he opens the door, his breath is taken away because, “Fuck. You’re so pretty, Regulus.”

Regulus laughs softly, “Thank you, James.”

“I thought I told you not to bring anything.” James shakes his head when he sees that Regulus is holding a round container.

“No, but I did.” Sirius says, bounding up behind James, “He has this apple tree in the backyard of his apartment building and the things that Regulus does with those apples are magical.”

Regulus shakes his head, “This is tarte tatin. It’s a French dessert with caramelised apples. Aside from Sirius telling me to make something, you mentioned that Harry liked apples so I wanted to bring something I thought he’d like.”

“Well thank you, love.” James smiles, putting his hand on Regulus’ lower back and guiding him into the house. Their first stop is the kitchen but then James is leading Regulus into his living room and introducing him to Lily and Mary. 

As soon as Regulus sits down, Harry is bounding to sit in his lap from where he was originally playing with Remus’ fingers, which makes James laugh, “He is obsessed with you, Reg.” 

“No shock about that,” Remus hums, “Not with the way that Luna is all over him whenever she’s around.”

“Who’s Luna?” Lily asks, tilting her head. Regulus can see just why James married her, she’s beautiful. With long red hair that falls around her body in a perfect way and she’s got this wonderful smile and stunning green eyes just like her son. 

Regulus shakes off those thoughts, “My best friend’s daughter. About the same age as Harry.”

“Pandora’s daughter?” James asks, moving to sit next to his boyfriend, stretching his arm out so it’s resting on the back of the couch and his hand is playing with Regulus' hair. His other hand goes to play with Harry, letting his son mess around with his fingers. Regulus just nods. 

Just soon after, they gather around the table and start to eat, laughing and joking around. Regulus is quiet at first, nervous about meeting Lily -- which is astounding to all of them that know both him and Lily, because she is the sweetest, most easy going person in the world -- but eventually Remus manages to get him sucked into a conversation with himself and Lily about books and he opens up more and more. 

By the end of the night, Regulus is chatting relatively easily with the rest of the group and he seems to have made good friends with Lily --which James is more than happy about -- and by the time that everyone leaves, Regulus is tired and peopled-out so he and James choose to just relax on the couch with Harry and watch a movie.

“That went well.” James hums, “Just like I told you it would.”

“Shut up you snarky bastard.”

[adarkrainbow]

The Perrault fairytales: Little Red Riding Hood

After looking at the most obscure of Perrault’s fairytales, let’s take a look at one of his most famous stories: Little Red Riding Hood. 

It is the second of the “Stories and tales of the past”, right after “Sleeping Beauty”, of its original French name, “Le Petit Chaperon rouge”. And... before digging into the story, I want to make a little precision about what is a “chaperon”, the word English people translated as a “hood”, but which isn’t exactly that... The first of the two big dictionaries of the era (Furetière’s Dictionary) defines “chaperon” as: an old-fashioned headwear, as much for men as for women. For women, a chaperon was a velvet ribbon worn on their cap, and it was an indication of bourgeoisie”. The other big dictionary of the time, the Dictionary of the Academy, proposes the definition of: A ribbon of velvelt or silk that girls and women who were not part of the nobility often wore on their head up to quite recently - and women of the bourgeoisie were especially noted to wear chaperons.”

Quite fascinating isn’t it? Little Red Riding Hood should technically be “Little Red Head-Ribbon”. Heck not only is it not a “hood”, it is not even for “riding” as the English title suggests - it is not a travelling hood, but just an ornamental, pretty headwear. One more proof that the fairytales “everybody knows” aren’t truly known...

The story of Little Red Riding Hood is very short and simple, so it will be quite easy to sum up. There was once upon a time a young village girl, who was the prettiest of all children - her mother loved her dearly, and her grandmother even more. In fact, her grandmother loved her so much she had a red “chaperon” crafted for her to wear. 

One day, as her mother had cooked “galettes”, she said to her daughter: “Go see if your grandmother is well, because I heard she was sick, bring her one galette and this little jar of butter. And so the little girl left to visit her grandmother, who lived in another village. [Note: “galette” is usually translated today as “pancakes” by English people, but a “galette” of at the time actually meant “a small cake cooked under the ashes, usually prepared when the bread is placed in the oven - galettes are usually cooked for children or for domestics.”]

While crossing the woods, she met the wolf who wanted to eat her but didn’t dare - there were wood-cutters nearby. So rather he asked the girl where she was heading, and the “poor girl, who didn’t know that it was dangerous to listen to wolves”, told him what she was doing and where she was going. The wolf asked her if the grandmother lived far, and the girl explained her grandmother lived “beyond the mill you see over there, it is the first house of the village”. The wolf said to the daughter that he also wanted to visit her grandmother, and proposed her a sort of race/game. He told the girl to go one road, while he would go another, “and we’ll see which one of us reaches her house first”. The wolf ran with all his might by the shorter path, while the little girl took the longest path while picking hazelnuts, running butterflies and picking up small flowers. 

The wolf arrived at the house of the grandmother and knocked, pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood (he imitated her voice). The grandmother, who was bed-ridden because of her sickness, told the wolf a famous sentence - it is usually translated as “Lift up the latch and walk in”, but the actual sentence is one of the iconic phrases of French fairytales: “Tire la chevillette, la bobinette cherra”. It is a sentence about something being pulled by the visitor, “la chevillette”, and something falling because of that, “la bobinette”, but the exact nature of these two objects is actually unclear, since Perrault seems to have been referencing here the door-technology of humble houses in the 17th century. There have been various theories and interpretations, but the most common interpretation of the sentence is that it is a reference to the primitive form of lock of peasant houses - there was a wooden bar or plank blocking the door that could fall if a visitor pulled on a small rod. What reinforces the use of this type of primitive lock here is the fact that, while this system couldn’t prevent thieves or burglars from entering the house, it was originally created to prevent wild animals from coming in.

The wolf enters and devours extremely fast he old woman “because he hadn’t eaten in three days”. He then closed the door, and snuck into the grandmother’s bed, hiding under the blanket (the part of the wolf putting on the grandmother’s clothes isn’t described when he hides in the bed, but when Little Red sees the wolf he is in the grandmother’s nightgown, so he must have slipped in the clothes without Perrault evoking it) When Little Red Riding Hood arrives she knocks on the door, but the wolf forgets to change his voice for his first sentence. The little girl is frightened by this deep voice, but upon hearing a softer more feminine voice afterward, she blames the tone-change on her grandmother’s sickness. She enters. The wolf tells the girl to put the galette and jar of butter aside, and climb in the bed with “her”. The girl obeys, and follows the famous dialogue.

“My grandmother, what big arms you have!” “It is to better embrace you, my girl.” 

“My grandmother, what big legs you have?” “It is to better run my child.” 

“My grandmother, what big ears you have?” “It is to better listen my child.”

“My grandmother, what big eyes you have?” “It is to better see, my child.”

“My grandmother, what big teeth you have?” “It is to eat you.”

And the wicked wolf ate the little girl.

The end.

Despite the story being so small, there is a LOT to unpack here.

This tale is, of course, a warning tale. It is literaly the story of what happens when a little girl takes all the wrong steps and does all the wrong things. She speaks to the wolf, despite the narrator clearly painting this as something wrong that should never be done. She accepts the wolf’s game, and despite being in a race, she merely loses time doing all sorts of childish things in the wood. When she arrives at the house, she seems to have forgotten all about the wolf. When she hears the big voice coming from the house, she thinks her mother just has “a cold”, and as she is “surprised” by her grandmothe’s appearance in the bed, all she can do is ask, question by question, why she looks so different... We have a clueless, careless, naive little girl, bordering on stupidity, who literaly walks in the mouth of the wolf. 

But despite this, too many people misunderstood Perrault as somehow “punishing” the little girl with this very dark version where Little Red Riding Hood is just eaten and her grandmother too, and this is the end. Actually, when you read the story, you realize the narrative voice takes the girl’s side and is saddened by this whole adventure - the wolf is said to be “wicked” when he devours the girl, and when she talks to the wolf the narrator points out that “the poor girl didn’t know one should never listen to wolves”. In fact, in this very sentence lies the hidden message: this is a warning tale as much for children as for their parents - it is the story of a girl who was “badly raised”, since she visibly was never taught by her mother or grandmother that she shouldn’t chat with wolves in the woods. The very opening sentences describes how much her mother and grandmother loved Little Red Riding Hood - and to describe this, Perrault uses the term “elles étaient folles d’elle”. It is a figure of speech meaning “they were crazy about her” - but in this expression, there is “crazy”. There is the idea that they had a form of chaotic, crazy love for their child, which led them to spoil her: they give her a pretty headwear rather than teaching her about the dangers of the woods. Perrault here clearly condemns the mother and grandmother here, for which the little girl has to suffer. Little Red Riding Hood didn’t break “a rule” per se, since she is ignorant and innocent from beginning to end - it is for her mother/grandmother’s flaws that she has to suffer. 

Beyond this first, superficial message of “don’t spoil your kids and teach them the dangers of life instead of trying to make them look pretty”, there is another message, more serious, quite deeper, but just as obvious for those that read the fairytale. The wolf here is a frightening figure because he is a wild beast of the woods and a devourer seeking to eat the human child - but he is also a man, or at least a beat with man-like traits enough to bring to mind modern werewolves. We have here a wolf that talks like a man, that can open and close doors, that can put on human clothes - this disturbing entity breaks all the laws and limits of nature and civilization (the beast becomes human, the wilderness enters in the home, the male becomes female, the young child is devoured...), but also bears in it uncomfortable and frightening sexual undertones.

Because Little Red Riding Hood is a sexual tale, and there is no denying it. If the message was unclear, Perrault explains it in the Morality that follows the tale. To sum it up, it says: “We see here that young children, especially young girls, beautiful and kind, often bring themselves troubles by listening to anybody, and it is thus not surprising to see so many of them eaten by the wolf. I say the wolf, because all the wolves are not of the same kind : Some are courteous and silent, without bitterness and without rage, they are sweet, compliant and friendly, and they follow young ladies, to their homes and to their beds. But alas! Who doesn’t know that these sweet wolves are the most dangerous of them all?”. With this morality, we clearly see the allegory Perrault places in this tale: it is a sexual tale, where the wolf represents the seducer, the man who gains access to the house and the bedrooms of women by sweet words and kindness, but deep down are dangerous, devouring beasts who will destroy the girls that put their trust in them. 

And this sexual undertone, beyond the morality and the character of the wolf, can also actually be found in the “little red hood” worn by the girl - aka the “chaperon”. Now, you might recognize the French word “chaperon” in the English word “chaperone” and it is no coincidence: while literaly, “chaperon” was a ribbon to wear on the head, figuratively it was a “chaperone”, as a person. “But then, if she had a chaperone, why wasn’t the girl protected from the sexual-wolf?” you might ask. And here is the trick: Perrault fairytales are filled with games, puns and wordplays on the expressions of the time. Now, the chaperone - which was the older woman who was in charge of watching over and protecting younger girls - was actually called “un grand chaperon”, “a big chaperon, a great chaperon”. But here, what is the little girl sent alone in the woods with? A “little chaperon”. And we find here back the “sins of the grandmother” or “sins of the mother” - as the grandmother preferred to give her granddaughter a “little chaperon”, a mere pretty ornament, a shining red accessory, rather than giving her a “grand chaperon”, aka a chaperone, an older figure that would watch over and protect her, aka the advices much needed in life such as “do not speak to wolves that try to chat in the woods.”

This wordplay becomes extremely relevant when one notes that, in all the versions of the tale that seem to predate Perrault’s, there is no mention of the “red chaperon”. It only came forward with Perrault’s version, and was thus very clearly his invention. The artificial nature of this key element, that gives its name to the story, points out very obviously to its wordplay-nature.

[apolloanddaphnis]

Liz and Billy

Synopsis: Minka Farrah is the screen siren of the Art side of Hollywood's. David Lynch's new muse, inspires designers the new Elizabeth Taylor. Despite her appearance, she's always there for her friends. Megan's one of her best, but it turns out Megan isn't the only one who needs a shoulder to cry on, her fiancé Colson Baker, known to the world as the notorious Machine Gun Kelly, needs a shoulder too, and what a lovely sweet smelling, empathetic shoulder it is.

Going to be a Colson x OC fic.

It's going to be an explicit fic.

Warnings for first chapter: Not proofread, mentions of suicide attempts, mental health mentions.

I. Giant

♡♡Minka's POV ♡♡

Megan wasn't doing good.

We've been friends since we met on the set of my film Poison. We bonded over our love for music and she was easy and fun to be around, after that we started spending as much time as we could together and texted everyday, when we weren't filming on location she made herself an unofficial resident at my French revival on Ridgedale drive. Claiming I give the best sleepovers.

The harlot loves stealing my makeup too, Claiming I have so much makeup like a department store I wouldn't notice it missing. I let her, it's not as if I couldn't easily replace it.

I was the only person she told absolutely everything to, perhaps that's why I never corrected her when she would irk me.

Pour example, when she bugs me about why I don't get down there surgery, or after my mother who was my best friend died how I didn't find her warm enough, she has a habit of dealing with tragedy in a way Jack Frost would; Too much silence, almost like she's watching a car crash. And let's not forget that every time I desired to come out to everyone about being a transwoman, she discouraged it because my career is far too successful. Which in my good opinion is precisely why I should, I owe it to my fans to every child or adult who feels trapped inside a body that doesn't belong to them.

I well ignored her well-intentioned advice and came out anyway, while I was a judge on RuPaul's Drag Race. The media lost it people lost it, many angry men who harbored illicit fantasies of me were outraged and women claimed I was far too pretty to be a man. The news beautifully purged me of my ignorant fans, the loyal and open minded remained, and my film career didn't hurt too terribly because I was already in a more artistic genre, people would say I'm the Elizabeth Taylor of Isabella Rosselini, a Bettie Page sort of Isabelle Adjani.

When backlash arrived, Megan lovingly pointed out it was expected because of how people are, I didn't need that. She's not like Anya, who is my warmer friend.

It can't be helped, it's just her nature, she has never dealt with emotions and high stressed situations well, I can accept that.

Despite that, whenever something particularly irks or disturbs her good moods, I'm the first person she calls, and like a dutiful friend I drop it all to run to her beck and call.

She's been starting to see the rapping singer Machine Gun Kelly, the gorgeously painted tower of a man. I never listened to his music and as a fan of Motley Crüe I found The Dirt inaccurate and ridiculous. But he did a very good job as Tommy Lee. I'll admit that.

Megan is mad about Colson, that's his name. She's peanuts and almonds about him, I think it mainly has to do with how apparently skilled he is between the sheets which I can definitely see. But, unfortunately Colson like many artists, suffer from mental health issues, and Meg darling little Nutmeg is not the best with that especially as someone so beautifully intense and tragic as Mr. Baker.

Pete and I have talked about this, my best friend, my absolute beloved, who is actually Colson's beloved best friend as well. So funny that the rapper and I have only met once at Pete's birthday party. He stared at me for a rather long time before offering me a cigarette, I asked if they were French and he laughed before some girl took him away. And that was that, I was called away to Budapest for that Polanski movie.

But Megan has been telling me her forever love has been incredibly paranoid, and blaming her for not being there enough. She was thoroughly upset, and this morning she called me at 5, she couldn't sleep. She told me they fought all through the night and she was glad Casie was at her mother's. I bit back asking about her boys who she spends less and less time with these days. I climbed out of my big, comfy bed away from my canine kinder and American Sable. "Boys, we're going to Auntie Meg's a little early this morning." I Yawned, removing my silk sleeping mask and headscarf. This wasn't the first time I woke up at this time of course, but I savored my days off.

I tie on my vintage circa 1980 Victoria's Secret robe and slip on my satin rabbit shaped slippers before turning on the light on my side table.

I opened the curtains of my French doors that opened up to my bedroom balcony before inhaling the sweet air of the rose hour, and walked through the connecting door to my hardly humble and spacious master bath. No time for luxuriating in my jacuzzi tub, it's a shower today. I rubbed my eyed and messily pinned up what I could of my raven bob, pushing it back by a satin headband and capped it before slipping off my robe and entering my four person shower for one.

The heat was high and delicious and I had to remind myself that this was to be quick, Chanel facial care was my friend and aveeno's oat shower oil and doves macadamia nut body polish were the lovers that kissed my skin.

Once my duties were done I shut off the well pressured shower and dried off with my egyptian cotton towels from the warmer. I rubbed on my toner, serum, essence, moisturizer, spf, eye cream and lip care. I massaged my aveeno baby lotion on and brushed my hair down brushing in the L'Oreal mythic oil, and washed my hands with L'Occitane before moisturizing my hands with their hand cream. I quickly brushed and water flossed my teeth and for makeup it was very basic for my usual, just L'Oreal serum foundation, reddish sweetbriar and rose oil comfort lip oil by Clarins, and Lancome mascara to accentuate my violet-blue eyes a little.

I neglected my underwear today and pulled on my black, v-dipped spandex shorts, and pulled on my white polo halter, backless cropped top that says Los Angeles in black old English text on my right breast. I perfumed my pulse points with eau fraiche by Chanel before rushing to slip on my black 90s slip on sandal wedges.

I washed my chiweenie and skunks faces and leashed them up, before grabbing my Coach black tabby and 90s Prada sunglasses.

I locked up the house and called my driver Kaiden. In record time he pulled up in my black Rolls Royce that I was still too afraid to drive. I'm afraid of driving, yes, and I know it's ridiculous but I can't help the irrational fear. "Morning Kaiden, I hope you had enough sleep."

Kaiden is an ex user. I was at the Beverly Center one day and I saw this hungry young man who happened to be homeless, it upset me so much. I can't stand seeing people on the street and there's so many, so I asked him if he could drive and he said yes, and I asked him how would he like to drive luxury cars for a living. I set him up in a luxury apartment on la brea, got him medical and dental and mental health care all holistic, a signing bonus. The rest is history, Kaiden is like family and he likes to act as my bodyguard as well even though I do have one, Jack. He's protective of me, forever grateful. I look after him, make sure he goes to his therapy sessions and I cook for him and take care of his laundry. I've got a soft spot for the twenty four year old.

"I did, did you?"

"Yes I was a good girl, no parties last night, got my full eight hours father." I teased. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No mother." He teased right back.

I smiled. "I'm going to make breakfast at Meg's, she won't mind you joining, how does that sound?"

"Like I'd ever turn down your food."

"Don't make me blush."

It takes about forty minutes for me to get to Meg's new Encino mans with her rakish knight.

Kaiden parks and takes my skunk, Nikki, as I carry Vince, my chiweenie. I text her that I'm here with Kaiden and she tells me to go around back to not wake Colson.

We do as we're told and Meg is there waiting for us in her pajamas that consist of booty lounge shorts, UGG slippers, a t- shirt that obviously belonged to Colson, and her ebony hair up in a messy bun. "Hi beautiful." I whispered softly before pulling her into a hug and kissed her cheek that was warm from sleep.

"I'm so glad to see you, babe." She said softly as she squeezed me. She waved to Kaiden and slid the backdoor back to let us in.

I set Vince down who followed Kaiden and Nikki, my inked driver knew the routine and headed to the den to give Meg and I privacy.

I slipped off my sandals and followed Meg into the kitchen. I went to the coffee station to start that. I got her and Colson a Nespresso machine and milk frother with many capsules for a housewarming gift.

I put in the rich chocolate capsule that was known for its creamy and chocolate notes, and poured oat milk creamer into the frother. "Okay, I want your guts on the table." I said to her with a smile.

She sighed and slumped her body onto the island. "I can't even like…Mink…" she said my nickname with such exhaustion.

I went over to her and gently rubbed her back aside and pushed a random object off the counter. I love Meg but she's kind of a slob, but a very cute slob. "Deep breaths, like you're using a straw." I encouraged softly.

She did the breathing exercise I taught her and l went to grab three mugs and filled them with coffee, cream, and sugar. I gave her a mug and kissed her head. "Sip some of this and prepare to let It all out, I'll be right back." I left her briefly to give Kaiden his coffee, he and the fur boys were laying on the couch. I then returned to an exhausted Megan sipping her coffee. I took my mug and sat beside her. "Okay, let it out, it's just me."

She teared up as she nursed the glass mug. "It's so fucking hard sometimes, Mink." She whispered. "I can handle it I can but…I mean I'm fucking human, I can handle shit like remember I told you about the accident with Brian."

Brian was her ex husband, only knew him from playing David Silver on Beverly Hills 90210, and he's the father of her boys. They went through a lot together between his ex, being victims of the Bling Ring, and his car accident that had him partially paralyzed for a while and not to mention her affair with Shia LaBeouf. She's right, she can handle a lot.

"But," She continued. "It's fucking insane when you get called up at work from your fiancée, and he fucking tells you you're not there…" her eyes are watery and her voice starts to break.. "And talking crazy shit like somebody's after him, a-and he has a goddamn gun in his mouth!" She whispered hysterically before crying on my shoulder.

I felt my throat run dry, my tongue heavy, I set my mug down and pulled her into a hug as she wailed. Colson tried to kill himself? When was this? He must be in some awful pain to feel like he needed such an awful way out. I took a deep breath to push my own floodgates back, because it's not about me. "He was using at the time, he stopped since then, but I can't get that out of my head, Minka. I fucking can't. Why the hell would he do that to me? And I have been there for him I'm always there, I'm starting to think he wants me to stop my career and keep me in this fucking house!"

My blood ran cold, no wasn't the time for Megan to make it about herself. She Knew what she signed up for with Colson, he trusted her enough to be vulnerable with her. I took a deep breath. "Meg, I'm going to run you a bath, relax, listen to a true crime podcast and I'll make you breakfast okay? and try to clean this place up." The sink was full of dishes.

She let out a shaky breath of relief before hugging me tight. "Bitch, I swear to God I don't know how I got along without you before."

I wiped her eyes. "Please, I'm just nosy." I took her mostly empty coffee and put it in the sink before we both crept upstairs. The bathroom was chaotic and I ended up doing a quick cleaning and made a mental note to have Petra order them that new kItty litter I saw on TV with the cat goddess. I found some Lush bath bombs and put them in the big, hot jacuzzi tub, poured Laura Mercier in and lit some candles. I had Alexa put on some true crime and had the towels set up in the warmer.

Once Meg was situated, I crept back down to the kitchen. I had music on low and gathered ingredients from the fridge and pantry. From scratch I made Russian, honey poppy seed roll, croque Madame sandwich, and fruit salad. I made orange juice from scratch and added turmeric-ginger shots. I was cleaning the kitchen with the vigorous intention of making it spotless, dancing to 'Giant' by The The, swaying my hips when a familiar voice breaks into the scene. "Am I interrupting something?"

I stopped abruptly holding the broom, and spun around to see none other than all 6'4 of freshly awakened Colson Baker. He looked Michelin level delicious in boxers that hung low on his hips and absolutely nothing else.

His cobalt blue eyes weren't looking at her, they were staring. They traveled down her body making her feel self conscious. Like most people, she's attracted to him, he has that typical Taurus beauty that has you hypnotized. No one would ever guess from her vintage, art house style but, the entire punk rock and tatted I just got on parole for good behavior look is her absolute favorite.

"I just made some breakfast, Meg's in a bath, would you like some coffee?"

He sucked his lip in before giving me another once over. "Yeah, have you seen my lighter? Shit it looks clean in here."

"I have and no, you're not smoking right now." I said as I handed him his coffee.

He smirked and sat down at the island with his mug. "Okay ma." He moaned as he sipped the coffee. "Damn I love this shit, even though it gives me the shits."

I smiled. "Everything gives you the shits because you're taurus, you guys have issues." I teased as I made his plate. Megan is the same, the beautiful actress is quite gassy.

"Meg told me you know a lot about astrology."

I set his plate down, and a glass of the juice I made. "My mother was into it, her great grandmother was a gypsy from Krakow."

"That's bomb, was she psychic?"

I gave him a secretive smile. "I'll be back." I had Kaidens plate and bowls for all the animals in the house. After making sure everyone got their food, except for Megan because she's still in the bath, I grabbed my plate and joined Colson, who was inhaling his plate. "Fuck, this is so what I needed. You can cook, you know that?"

I don't know why I liked hearing his approval, he's just one of those people you always want to impress perhaps. "Glad you like it, I love cooking, I believe a good meal can fix just about anything."

"Well maybe if you hosted Thanksgiving this year, it'll fix how fucked up I am." He finished his sandwich looking like he wanted to say something. "She told you, didn't she?"

I didn't respond, which answered his question. "Did you come here to check up on her? And chew me out?" He had a defensive tone, used to people yelling at him to get his shit together no doubt.

"Truthfully, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Colson…I know we hardly know each other, but I worry about you. And you don't need a lecture you need…" he needs someone to understand him, he needs comfort, he needs everything Megan isn't giving him right now. But I didn't say that. "A few good meals." I finished.

His eyes were on me as his teeth tore into the poppy seed roll. My eyes admired him, he's so beautiful, the way he was put together was perfect. How could someone so beautiful be so broken? I didn't want to give him the you're not alone spiel, but he isn't. He's a true artist, he feels more than the average person and has gone through so much, being proven again and again he's no one's priority. He just wants to feel that he matters that his demons are wrong. He doesn't need to be told how to deal with his mental health.

Anything Anything by Dramarama played on my Spotify, he perked up before bobbing his head to the moody yet bouncy rock music. "Yo, I felt that before. I like these lyrics."

"Yeah me too, I love music like this, that makes you feel so raw."

I sang along but stopped as Colson stared at me wide-eyed. "Sorry, I know I'm not good." I said sheepishly.

"No! No, you actually have a very beautiful voice. Why didn't you ever do anything with it?"

I could feel my skin heat up. "I…acting is more of my calling and I thought my voice sounded too squeaky to be any good."

"Well, you can do both, it's done everyday. "

I smiled as I finished up my meal. "After you're done I'll clean up and get out of your hair, Meg's plate is in the microwave okay?"

"Nah you can stick around, kinda having a calming effect on the house. Like human sage." He smiled.

My heart raced and I couldn't help but return his effortlessly pretty smile.

He spoke again due to me not answering. "If you're not busy, I know you got a lot going on."

I took out my phone to text my manager. "We're good, I pushed it back."

His eyes lit up. "Cool, you play Mario Kart?"

"Never have." I don't play video games but for Colson, I will. "I guess you'll have to teach me."

"You're so…"

I bit my lip. "What?"

"You're like someone went back in time and brought you here, it's cool."

I laughed. "Thank you, I suppose."

"Hey, for real though, where's my lighter? I was a good boy and ate my food."

"More like inhaled it." I teased before going to a drawer and pulling it out and handing it to him, our fingertips brushed and I swore I felt an electric jolt. How strange. Our eyes met and I laughed before gently stroking his nail. "I need to give you a manicure, your paint is chipped." I took his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to it. I was always affectionate to all of my friends, kisses and hugs, they always teased me that despite looking like a child I behave like I'm someone's aunt that hasn't seen them in a while.

Colson must have not liked it because he stared at me like I grew two heads. I got up from the table and took his empty dishes. "I'm sorry, I forget not everyone likes to be touched."

"No, I– it's cool, I…liked it. It's just, unless it's someone I'm with, I'm not used to being touched."

"Maybe you're platonically touch-starved." I suggested as I loaded the dishwasher.

"Maybe you could help me satiate that."

A shiver ran up my spine at him saying satiate and it shouldn't have. He doesn't need more people who lust after him or want him. He needs someone to care just to care and not to gain.

"I was in a mental hospital for six months." I said suddenly as I started the dishwasher.

It was quiet for a moment and my heart was racing because Maybe I said the wrong thing.

"Minka…you don't have to say anything…" His voice was soft and tender.

"I want to, I want you to, to…I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass when I said I understand. I'm not just placating and patronizing you to make myself feel better 'helping' or to say I tried." I took a deep breath and turned around to face him, my back against the counter. His eyes wandered over my image again. "Colson, I was bullied so badly and I didn't know what I was…it was all so confusing, so awful…I didn't react too well…I don't know what I hated more, the hospital or school. My mom couldn't handle me being away that long and took me back home. I'm glad she did. She made it a little easier and less confusing…I don't know what I'd do without her." The last word turned into a frightened whisper. "I lost her almost two years ago and…it hasn't been easy, I feel so empty. I know it was awful for you when you lost your father Colson, even if he wasn't the father he should have been." A cold tear slipped down my cheek and I closed my eyes and turned away. I took a drying towel and dabbed my eyes carefully. I checked my reflection in a dish and turned back around To face him. He stared again, always staring.

"Minka…I'm so…sorry." His pretty powder blue eyes teared up.

I quickly made my way over to him and gently took his hands. "Goodness, you're tall." I put on a good smile. ''Don't you dare feel bad for me, and besides we're not making this about me. I just want you to know you can talk to me, be raw with me. You can be sushi!" I attempted to joke, he cracked a smile.

Unexpectedly, he pulled me into a hug. It was such a warm and comforting one, strangely it made me feel safe. I felt so selfish for thinking that way. I wrapped my arms around his slender waist. I think he needs a hug, but it's easier if he convinces himself it's for me.

We stayed like this for a while. He smelled like warmth and sleep and a little kush.

"Hey, I smell food!" It was Megan's raspy, sensual voice.

I pulled back from Colson fast enough to cause whiplash. Quickly I got her plate from the microwave and her juice from the fridge, handing it to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Colson went over to hug her from behind and kiss her neck. She giggled and turned to kiss his mouth.

I felt rude being here as their kissing became more intense, quietly I left the kitchen and headed into the living room. "Kay, gather pups, let's go." I texted my agent to tell him nevermind.

Music in Chapter:

[randombush3]

No Longer A Lonely Person

florence pugh x reader

summary: you overcome one of the biggest obstacles in your relationship

words: 5412 (god, it’s long)

warnings: talks of suicide, divorce, and drug usage (barely), and very underage smoking

notes: first of all, this was never supposed to be that long, and it was inspired by multiple different songs. the ending was never planned, it may be messy.

french translations will be really difficult as i’ve written it as slang/spoken french. common ones as “chais pas” = idk, “c’est trop la honte” = it’s embarrassing, “chérie” = darling, “ché” = i know. Type them into google translate or feel free to ask. PFW just means Paris Fashion Week.

also, mathilde and fleur are half sisters of anyone was wondering.

“I don’t want her to be my mother.” You almost choke on your wine. “Maman, j’suis sérieuse. She’s loud and happy and I can’t have a mother who all my friends want to hook-up with! C’est trop la honte.” She’s red enough thinking about it, let alone actually telling you.

“Qu’est-ce que «hook-up»?” The innocence of four-year-old Mathilde isn’t kept long, as Fleur launches into an explanation and you focus on swallowing both what she said and your drink. Once the torture of hearing your daughter explain it has ended, Tilly looks at you incredolously with her mouth hanging open and her half-chewed broccoli threatening to leap out. “Tu fais cette?”

“Non, chérie. Fleur is being silly.” Fleur is not being silly. You’ve been hooking up with Florence Pugh for quite a while now, and the eldest of the two is yet to meet her. (She refused to acknowledge you were in a committed relationship when you told her two years ago on FaceTime during lockdown, so you left it.)

“Of course. When Maman and her are screaming at night it’s just them playing a fucking game.”

“Stop it,” you tell her firmly. “She’s coming over in an hour and I want you to be well-behaved or not here. I’m not having you be an arsehole to a woman you won’t meet.”

“I have met her!”

“Fashion shows don’t count.”

You met Florence at Paris Fashion Week in 2020, where she complained about being at the designer’s show because apparently she’s a bitch. Flo’s first words to you were ‘God, the French really are judgemental’. And then she heard your accent. And recognised your face. It was a two-in-one slap of realisation because you were the designer and you are French.

When the girls got stuck with your ex in Dubai (he has term-time custody and they spend holidays with you), Florence was there to offer comfort and companionship and a smaller but cosier flat in London with her. So there you stayed, only returning to Paris in June to prepare for PFW and your exclusive, annual Versailles show. It ends the week. It’s one of the coolest things you do.

Half an hour later, when Tilly has successfully convinced you that Flo will love her pirate costume, Fleur taps you on the shoulder. It’s the first you’ve seen of her since she slunk off to her room, gossiping with one of her practically identical friends. You turn with exasperation and tiredness. She scrunches her nose.

“You’re not going to replace me as your plus one next week, right?” Next week is Cara’s party. There’s no reason for it, but you suppose there doesn’t need to be — it’s Cara. Fleur is adored by all of them, and you trust that she’s in safe hands if it all goes to shit (Bella is a motherly drunk), so you enjoy lying back on whatever boat she’s chosen and sunbathing. You’re only thirty.

The genuine uncertainty makes you regret being harsh earlier. “I’m pretty sure I’m your plus one, babe. Flo is only staying for the weekend, anyway; she’s going to visit her family now that filming has wrapped.”

“I really want to meet her sister.” Teenagers and TikTok go hand in hand. Your publicist has begged Fleur to teach you to use it, but you’ve decided that your brand is doing okay despite you not having your own personal account, and that being the butt of your daughter’s jokes is enough for publicity. “She, like, followed me while I was at Dad’s but I think she unfollowed ‘cause she wasn’t sure. This is why I need to be verified, Maman.” You roll your eyes.

“If you decide to be a nepobaby then go for it. Until you actually do something, shut up. You haven’t earned it.” She mumbles something about Lila Moss. You laugh. “I knew your father spoiled you rotten but I didn’t realise it was to this extent.” Karma for marrying a businessman. The relationship ended the minute he brought up moving to a ‘more profitable’ place. Your girls living in bloody Dubai in a closed community with a maid and a driver and a butler 24/7 is only acceptable because Tilly’s most favourite parks ever are in Hackney and Brownsville. Balance is key.

“Dad only spoils us because he feels bad that he made you realise you’re gay.” Oh god.

“One, you know that I’ve dated women before, and two, what led you to that conclusion? Your biological father is the only man I’ve ever slept with who reminded me I liked women.”

“That’s why you don’t have sex at fifteen.”

“Putain, t’es vraiment une conasse.” She’s ruthless. Poor Florence is going to have her ego bruised the moment she walks in. Which is now. Because she has her own keys. Because you love her and kind of want to marry her. But Fleur doesn’t know any of that.

So she jumps when Florence says hello. You can tell your girlfriend is terrified of the flared jeans clad, highly intimidating fourteen-year-old, but she’s pulling it off with a welcoming smile that hopefully says ‘please just let me sleep with your mum in peace’. You think she really communicates her point to be honest. You also think Fleur is going to fuck with her as much as she can.

You’re right — you know your daughter very well.

“Bonjour, Florence. Tu parles français?” she asks with faux innocence dripping from her daggered gaze. For reassurance, Flo has looked at you. She is saved by a hyper toddler in the aforementioned pirate costume (something that’s frequently appears on vogue’s website when her more famous ‘aunties’ babysit), who immediately demands to be held and kissed and hugged. You catch the ‘mummy’ in the conversation and pray Fleur isn’t attentive enough for that. “Ah, t’es anglaise.”

- - -

The wine goes down very quickly once Tilly crashes and it’s just you three. It feels like you’re sitting in the middle of the Olympic staring event final, where they are both contending for twenty billion gallons of liquid luck from Harry Potter. You shuffle under the tension.

You debate asking if they want refills, and decide not to out of fear. They both look scary.

“So,” Fleur breaks the silence, slicing down on it with a cold tone of utter dismissal. “You’re an actress. Pretty unstable income.” Suppressing your laughter becomes extremely difficult.

“Your mum’s a designer. That’s hardly better.”

“My dad owns a few businesses though.” With a smile, she adds, “Balance.” So far you’ve been insulted and compared to your ex husband, but at least they are saying words.

“I’ve met your father. A few is an understatement,” Flo replies, recounting that awkward dinner in which his parents had invited you. Your ex’s parents are thankful for their only grandchildren and treat you like a daughter they failed to have (they do have one, ironically). Though not uncommon, their invite a few months ago was a surprise mainly for the fact that Florence’s name was also written in the card. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Yes,” you agree carefully. Are you allowed to speak? Who knows. “If I leave to check on Mathilde, will the two of you murder each other?” As you stand up, Flo does too.

“I can go,” she says. Tilly can’t escape the apartment when Flo is over, unlike her sister who fucks off to god knows where, and so she is used to this odd extra parent-who-isn’t-a-parent.

Once Florence leaves, you turn to your daughter. She looks pissed off. “What the fuck was that?” She shrugs, swiping the deep maroon velvet of the sofa up and down into little doodles. “You didn’t even try. You could have tried.” To beg her to be nice would be a waste of time and energy; the world is already struggling with carbon dioxide emissions without you starting a rant. But you did want her to try, and she has upset you for doing exactly the opposite.

“She’s iffy.”

“How?!”

Fleur raises her eyebrows, shifting her weight from side to side. Doing so makes the leather sofa creak from its many years of service. It has moved from Porte de la Chapelle to your penthouse in the eighth arrondissement where supermodels hang out casually. Fleur doesn’t remember being three and living in one room, and though you sometimes regret hiding that part of her life when she spurts obnoxious bullshit, you are glad that she can’t. You are glad that the only life she has ever known is that of chauffeurs and Emirates first class and galas. Not many little girls have mothers who FaceTime them from the Met Gala every year.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit out of her league?” You’re flattered. “She’s talented, but so are you. You’re amazing, Maman.”

“I think Florence is amazing,” you say quietly. Your daughter’s cynicism catches on her lips.

“Tu l’aimes.”

It’s true. You do love her. You have loved her for a while now, possibly since you sat and she sat and the universe decided you’d be next to each other. She seems to calm the persistent storm in you that grows every so often. Sometimes the storm takes over, but Florence has found a way to love you when your face is blank and you can’t will yourself to move. You know that you love her because you have loved two others before her. You know that she is special because this love is different.

Fleur’s face becomes hard to read, but her brows are furrowed and her foot taps: she is thinking. You grew up together, you are her friend. Her closest friend. Fleur’s hero will always be you, she will always dedicate school projects to you, she will always choose you. Right now it feels like you’re not choosing her. Like you want more than her company. Because how can your daughter give you the love and care that you give to her?

She gets up and slots herself between the edge of the armchair and you. Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through her hair. In its shine, you catch a glimpse of her father, the man you slept with far too soon. He was set to become a doctor. He had aimed for Oxford. You didn’t want to tell him you were pregnant, but when you did he offered to give that up. It’s heartbreaking to force someone not to love you anymore. He didn’t take it well; he couldn’t bear to tell his parents what he’d done, and he found himself struggling to deal with his conflicted emotions. He must’ve been sixteen when he killed himself, and Fleur must’ve only just been born. You wouldn’t have been happy together anyway, but being just you two in a big world full of parties of twenty seemed incredibly daunting. It got less scary over time.

When you met Tilly’s dad, Fleur would have been nine. He was on track to inherit a company from his recently deceased father, and you were suddenly a very popular designer. Your work was wanted on every runway, and he was wanted by every woman at every event you ran into each other at. His fondness for you stemmed from his love for Fleur, whom he met when he ploughed through her on his morning jog. She kicked him hard in the shin. You began to love him from that moment onwards, and enjoyed being a family. A proper family. Mathilde was the first of the four of you to be born into a healthy, functional family. She was smart enough to realise when it had ended that differences are as ugly as they are beautiful. He wanted to move to Dubai permanently, not just going there and coming back every so often. Your life had been in Paris since you were sixteen. You refused to go, but the courts ruled in the favour of his scarily stable income. It was alright, though. Without that, you wouldn’t have met Florence.

Memories slip through the soft strands of her hair. You can’t remember the last time you’d not been able to read her expression. Fleur makes a promise to herself that she will not fuck it up because she loves you and you love Florence. She tries to never break her promises. You taught her that much.

“If I loved her, would it be so bad?”

Maybe it won’t and Fleur can regain the family she once lost and secretly wishes she hadn’t. She’s grown up enough to understand that staying in a loveless marriage is never worth it, and that falling out of love can be as natural as its opposite. If she can smoke and drink and go to parties that last until the early hours of the morning, she should be able to accept that her mother will sleep with other people and move on. But it’s different because she can tell you and Florence are different. She can tell that you are going to last, and that is a terrifying thought. Like you said when Tilly was born, love creates more space, it doesn’t replace what was already there, and so maybe she can deal with possibly finding herself with another adult who cares and listens to her problems. If she really hates her, it’s not like she has to see her all the time.

Having processed this all in one second while formulating her answer, Fleur mumbles, “chais pas. I want you to be happy, does she make you happy?”

Flo watches you from the doorway of Tilly’s room, hating herself for spying but not being able to pull away. “Very,” you answer quite quickly. Florence admires the way you talk to your daughter, the way you handle pleasing everybody but doing what’s best for you.

She clears her throat so that you see her. Fleur hasn’t stiffened: you count that as progress. Progress is good. You can relax a bit now.

- - -

It’s close to two in the morning when Flo pulls on some pyjama bottoms and slides open the door to your balcony. Naturally, you’d ended your night with long overdue sex and a conversation about how well meeting Fleur went. When you fell asleep, she found herself tossing and turning. She concludes after an hour of thought that what she really needs is a cigarette. You keep a pack in your bedside drawer, beside a sketchbook that’s there if you dream of sewing and it actually looks good. She takes it and kisses your sleeping forehead.

The night is clear and warmer than England (even if there’s currently a heat wave). Your balcony overlooks Parc Monceau and so she watches the late-night walkers find ways to sneak in. She leans over the metal rails, letting her head drop to her folded arms, tensing when the metal is colder on her forehead than expected.

“Need a light?“ She hastily searches for the source of the question, wondering if she’s begun to hallucinate. With a flick of a light switch she’d forgotten was there, Fleur’s smirk appears, much like her mother’s. Fleur eyes the pack of cigarettes and pulls out her own from her hoodie pocket, extending the open pack to the woman with surprising generosity. Flo takes one, sinking to the floor beside the teenager. They sit with their backs against the wall, facing forwards.

Fleur tosses her lighter, Flo catches it. “Why are you up so late?” she asks, not bothering to berate her for owning any of the things she just displayed at such a young age. You probably know, she figures.

“In Dubai it’s too hot to go out with your friends during the day unless you stay inside, so we sneak out at night. Here, Maman has a rule that I have to spend four nights at home and can spend the remaining three wherever I want.” Flo nods. “Within reason, of course. If Bella is here I’ll stay with her.”

“Bella Hadid?” When she confirms, Flo wonders if Raffie will find out and complain that Flo’s famous friends suck. She lights both of your cigarettes. “You want to be a model?” She thinks Fleur could be.

“No, it is not my thing. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Don’t be an actress,” Flo jokes, exhaling and watching the smoke softly billow in the light breeze. “I’ve got no privacy, night shoots exist, and doing press with people you don’t like is bullshit.”

“I’ve watched my mum scream at the paparazzi in stilettos while holding Tilly, all because they took one stupid picture of me.”

“She’s very passionate, your mother.” While Fleur cringes, Flo chuckles. “I think you’re doing a great job of pretending not to hate my guts.”

“You’re not even that bad.” It could have been worse. “I don’t like that you’re British and that my friends want to sleep with you. You could try learning French to fix the first one, and the second one is just a downside to being the daughter of a fashion designer.”

“Je ne parle pas français.” Fleur finds this funny, and giggles endlessly, leaving Flo bright red and feeling self-conscious.

“Tu parles d'autres langues? Español? Deutsch? العربية?” Flo shakes her head, says she almost failed Spanish GCSE, and seriously questions her intelligence. “I can speak French, Arabic, and English fluently, so I’m taking Spanish for GCSE. It’s like Arabic.”

“Your English is really good. You sound American though.”

“No I do not.”

“Yeah, you do.” It’s technically an International accent. “How long have you spoken English?”

“Since I was five, when I started to watch a lot of Peppa Pig.”

“Of course you watched Peppa Pig,” comments Flo. “You give off those vibes.”

“That’s a compliment.” You will never forgive your daughter for playing it on repeat. Tilly is only allowed to watch the same programme twice in a day because of the trauma. “Then when Maman began to become really sought after, I had all these models surrounding me constantly, teaching me their language. Cara Delevingne taught me how to swear in English, Gigi Hadid explained the immediate future. Bella just read me stories. Lots and lots of stories. And in turn Bella can now translate the Little Prince into French, Cara learnt how to flirt like we do, and Gigi understands du, de la, and des.”

There’s a missing model in the supermodel bunch, Flo notices. “What about Kendall? I thought your mum was close with her.”

“We would just have staring contests. I’m undefeated, actually.” Fleur’s pride radiates off her, making her warmer to be around now. “But my dad taught me the most.” You’ve explained to your girlfriend how close your ex and Fleur are. “He can speak seven languages. He taught me Arabic, and he taught me formal English. The only thing I could teach him was how to understand Baby French when Tilly was born.”

“You’re very sophisticated.” Florence can’t imagine how cool they’d find her in England. “Does everyone smoke or is it just you?”

“I don’t do it that much, I just saw you go out here.”

Oh. Florence doesn’t quite know if she’s about to murdered or accepted. She hopes it is very much the latter.

“For some inane reason, my mother loves you. And she asked me to not be a little bitch about it — which I suppose I have maybe been slightly. Ever so slightly.” Fleur gags. “She looks like she wants to marry you. The sheer thought is mortifying, but, I don’t know, I’m trying to be nice.” Before Florence can say something (thanking her, telling her off, who knows?), Fleur says, “You’re not even that bad. It’s just that she’s my mum and she’s my best friend, not in the way that your mum claims to be but in an actual, proper best-friend-way, because we grew up together and she used to only have me. I used to be her only person, but now she has Dad and Tilly and… you. There’s this awful feeling in my gut that she’s going to stop being that to me because you’re here. And then I feel enormously guilty and selfish because I know that you make her elated in a disgusting way and that you were there for her when I couldn’t be, and you’re also only, like, ten years older than me, which makes me feel a bit weird because it’s like those stereotypical stepmothers where the dad is fifty and she’s twenty, but then I remember that Maman is only fucking thirty and that I basically ruined her life, because did you know that my biological father fucking killed himself? He wanted to drop out and help my mum, but he also wanted to have the career he dreamed of. He was so fucking conflicted that he slit his wrists in his parents’ bathtub. Because of me, he’s dead, and I don’t remember him at all.”

How does Florence respond to all of that? Your daughter has just unloaded the most heartbreaking story onto her as an explanation of why she is so hated, all while having a smoke together. Florence thinks carefully about her phrasing. She knows teenagers aren’t dumb, and Fleur is clearly intelligent on top of that.

“I don’t want to be your mother,” she states.

With a scoff, Fleur replies, “thanks,” and taps the ash off the end of her cigarette.

“No, not like that.” Her free hand drums quietly on the dirty floor, a common beat she uses to steady her heart rate. “I wasn’t ready to have kids when I met your mum, and I don’t think I am now, but you’re like this bonus that comes with loving her. Tilly never fails to make me smile, and you don’t understand how much I’ve enjoyed this conversation with you. I love Y/n, and she loves you guys. I’d like to marry her too.” Flo finds that wanting kids of her own and having pre-made kids intertwines into a win-win situation, because Mathilde calls her ‘Mummy’ and she can have a smoke with a fourteen-year-old and not feel irresponsible. “I’m not trying to be a third prison warden.”

“Don’t say you’re trying to be my friend or something.”

“If I were dating someone with a cat, I wouldn’t suddenly view myself as the cat’s owner. I’d build up a relationship with the pet until there was a mutual respect, maybe even love, formed. Same thing for children.”

“I’m a… cat?” Fleur raises her eyebrows, not that Flo can see the subtler expressions in the darkness of the badly-lit street. “I see what you mean, but we hardly know each other.”

“That’s fixable.”

“Also, no one actually knows you and my mother are dating. Are you even out?” Are you even out? (Yeah, but it’s not common knowledge.)

Florence and you talked about that before her flight took off. They will know tomorrow at noon when you will be spotted at a café near the park. You suggested a kiss might just send the message loud and clear, but Flo wants the girls to come and the thought of being intimate with you in front of Fleur’s judgemental gaze makes her shudder. Leaving the details vague in some areas, Flo informs your daughter of the publicist-approved plan. Fleur is already judging it.

After a few more drags of her cigarette, she huffs an agreement, says she’ll cooperate, and makes Flo genuinely smile for the first time since meeting her.

- - -

The daylight is woven into the half-open blinds of the master bedroom intricately and purposefully; a quiet but firm call to wake up. You groan, aching from your tiring evening, and turn over only to find that Florence isn’t there. She should be there, you think. You pat the side of your bed just in case she has become strangely invisible during the night. When your hand hits the mattress, you frown, eyebrows furrowing.

Getting up, you slip into fluffy socks because the floor isn’t very clean at the moment. It always takes a week or so to adjust to the messiness of the girls being back at home.

You knock on Fleur’s door three times. “Coucou, Fleur, tu te lèves.” There’s rustling from inside. She’s always been quite good at getting up, so she opens her door with a moody grunt and flops into your hug very quickly. “Nous sortons, nous tous.”

“Ché, Maman. Florence a dit.” You don’t know when they could have spoken. “Nous parlions. Elle est allée chercher une table à la boulangerie.”

It is slightly suspicious that she knows. “D’accord…” You notice her panda eyes and sigh. “Quand t’as dormi? T’as l’air épuisé, mon dieu.” She smells of cigarettes too. There’s no way she went out during the night — she would’ve told you. “Et oú est Mathilde?” You usually find her with her sister in the mornings.

“Tilly has gone with Florence to the bakery, Mother.” Her sudden shortness with you is confusing, to say the least. “Et last night Florence and I had a smoke on the balcony together.” Cara promised that the pack of cigarettes was in her possession. You now have a bone to pick with a certain model.

“Did you talk?” Maybe they bonded.

She shrugs. “Yeah.” Her room is a mess now that she’s stepped back and you can see it properly. Her suitcase is half unpacked, and there seems to be a large amount of new clothes her father bought her for summer. It’s totally not like one of the most sought-after high fashion brands is owned by her mother or anything. It’s not like she was the living mannequin for the children’s line.

“Do you need help unpacking?” You offer it because she lacks motivation in lots of areas. You video call her teachers for parents evening.

“I’ll get Tills to do it,” she waves you off with a smirk. “After you and your girlfriend pull your stunt I’m going to Bella’s hotel. She blocked out her day to give me therapy.”

“You need therapy?” More therapy, would actually be correct.

“I heard you and Florence fucking last night.” You consider gaslighting her to keep some dignity. “J’pense que j’resterai à l’hôtel de Bella ce soir, oui? It’ll benefit us both.”

Her offer is calculated; crafted precisely to benefit you both while spiting your somehow. “Only if you take your sister as well,” you say, enjoying the slight falter in her smirk as she finds most of her fun ruined. “And you can’t drink until Cara’s party to give your poor liver a break.”

“Fine,” she concedes, pushing lightly on your chest to get you out. “Weed is still on the table though?” Nice try.

She gets ready dutifully, leaving your home in a mini dress that she keeps in Paris because it’s definitely not acceptable in Dubai and your Chanel sunglasses. You don’t ask how she found them when they stay well-hidden in your room. Instead, you are thankful she’s not putting up a fight by wearing something totally outrageous.

It’s hot outside and a nice day, so the sunglasses dim the world for you both as you take your usual route to your usual café. You walk straight through Parc Monceau to get there, meaning Fleur already sees a friend and gets distracted. She stops for a brief conversation, from which you gather she is now invited to a birthday party on the behalf of Teddy.

“Is Teddy a girl or a boy?”

Fleur scoffs, picking up the pace once she sees the maroon of the café’s sign through the trees. “Teddy is non-binary, Maman. You’re supposed to be woke.” Right. It’s hard to keep up sometimes. “They live in our building, so I’ll go round for an hour or so later.”

“Don’t you need to get them a present?”

“I’ll get Florence to collect me.”

So Teddy’s one of those friends… Flo’s ego will inflate to the size of a hot air balloon when she finds a bunch of teenagers throwing themselves at her. She does love a bit of attention.

Quickly, you spot Tilly’s head outside in the sun, bobbing up and down as she undoubtedly stands and crouches over and over again by the table. It’s a stupid game called ‘Upstairs, Downstairs’ that results in lots of sore heads after banging them on a table. Flo looks relieved that you’re finally here.

She gets up so that Fleur can take her seat, immediately grabbing your hand. Decidedly, you hug her, sticking your finger up at the teenager rolling her eyes across from you.

“Who dressed Tilly?” asks Fleur, eyeing the white playsuit she’s wearing. It’s not yet stained.

“I did,” Florence says, sitting next to you, hand on your thigh. “She insisted on wearing white.” She probably just wanted to wear it because you designed it. It’s a literal prototype used to see how it fits, but the white makes her feel trusted so she begged to keep it. The final product has a few tweaks in sizing for a more generic cut, but you like that hers is made to fit her properly. If you had time you’d sew their whole wardrobe.

“She looks so clean.” She has to otherwise the media will call you a bad mother. “Maman, si Papa voit ça, il flippera.”

“Pourqoui est Papa freaking out?” Tilly’s half-translation not only clues Flo in on what’s going on, but makes her worried. No one should be freaking out. “Can we just order, please.” She drags out the ‘please’ with a pout and a longing look at the menu. Tilly can barely read in French (your fault — you forgot it’s not her first language) so you’re not quite sure what she’s staring at, but her point has been articulated enough for Fleur to mumble her order to you.

“D’acc, deux pains au chocolat pour Tilly,” you recite the order as usual in order to refresh Tilly’s counting in French and foods, “Fleur, tu veux un croissant aux amandes, oui?” She nods and asks for an Espresso. You tell her yes but make a mental note to get her and her sister hot chocolate instead. “Et Florence veut un croissant, j’veux un croissant.” Tilly shows you her fingers, four of them sticking up. All four people are accounted for. You could maybe call it a family.

You stand up to order at the counter. Florence stands too.

“Can I come with you,” she whispers, wary of listening ears. “I’ve yet to tell you about my night.” She takes your hand, smirking when Fleur groans in extremely audible disgust, and locks her fingers between yours, locking your faith into her.

As you walk into the crowded café, you find that Flo being recognised is more of an issue than anticipated for this part of Paris. This café is far from touristy, usually filled with off-duty models here for various shoots, but even they are turning their heads towards your girlfriend. Pride ignites on the gasoline of your blood, circulating around your body. She is yours and she is talented and funny and amazing in bed (not that you’d ever let her know it — her ego would inflate and suffocate you all). She still holds your hand in the queue.

“Why were you up so late smoking cigarettes with my daughter?” Panic briefly flushes her cheeks before she catches the softness in your eyes. You’re only playing. “If she said anything, I’m—”

“I didn’t know Marc killed himself.” Marc was Fleur’s father. “I also didn’t know that she was so clever. I thought her vocabulary was just grunts of varying pitches and tones. She’s so articulate, you know? Like, I just didn’t expect it.”

“Fleur is one of the most intelligent people I know.” So intelligent that she sometimes becomes sloppy and wastes incredible potential. “Did you sort out your differences?”

“We both agreed that you want to marry me.”

You think you’re embarrassed, but the blush might be from something else. Like the thought of having Flo there constantly and never feeling like you are trapped on a sole planet when the girls leave. Never being alone when you have a certain disposition to be extremely so. You know you have to say something in response, that you can’t let her comment end your conversation. “Yeah well I love you.”

Florence wants to propose. Right here, right now.

“I love you too.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take

[bbrissonn]

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 |ʙʀᴇɴᴅᴀɴ ʙʀɪꜱꜱᴏɴ

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

warnings: underage drinking, slight swearing (i think), not proofread 

pairing: brendan brisson x brianna garcia (my oc, she doesn’t have a face claim so imagine her how ever you please)

wc: 3.5k (including the lyrics)

bold italic are lyrics

this takes place from october 2021 to december 2021

au masterlist

this party’s shit, wish we could dip 

go anywhere but here 

don’t take a hit, don’t kiss my lips 

and please don’t drink more beer 

Brianna sighed as she watched her boyfriend, brendan, open another can of beer, wishing they could just head home instead of being at this party. but she didn’t want to ruin his fun, and after all, they did have a rule. she’d go to a party with him once he finished reading one of the books she recommended him. he had finished the last one 3 nights ago, before the two of them fell asleep in the comfort of her bed. 

“you okay?” thomas asked from beside her as he noticed the expression on her face. thomas and brianna had been best friend since the french american boy came to plymouth for the ntdp, they were attached to the hips for the two years, and still were in college. he, along with matty and truss, were the reason she and brendan met, introducing the two of them during their first week of college earlier this year.

“yeah. guess i’m just not–” 

“not feeling it tonight?” he asked with a smirk on his face, making her roll her eyes. it was obvious to anyone in the room that she didn’t want to be here, well to everyone but brendan. but it was always like this, she’d arrive with him, and within 5-10 minutes she’d find herself standing next to her best friend, making sure to keep an eye on her boyfriend. 

“i really don’t want to be here, tommy.” she whispered as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her into his chest. 

“then why’d you come, bri. why do you always come when you really don’t want to?” 

“because we made a deal. everytime he finishes–”

“a book you go to a party with him. blah blah blah. clearly that deal or rule or whatever it is doesn’t make you happy. just tell him you don’t like it here, he’ll understand.” 

“i already told him, thom. that’s why he wanted to make the deal, said it would help me get out of my comfort box or something.” she said as she turned her head towards her boyfriend who was surrounded by girls and some of his teammates. a smile appeared on her face when she saw him push a girl’s arm away from his. 

when the two of them started dating, everyone told her he’d just cheat on her, or that he wasn’t as serious about her that she was about him. he did after all have a reputation around campus, having a different girl in his bed pretty much every week. but they were all wrong, they didn’t know him like the boys know him, or how she knows him. she knew about his past relationships, what had and hadn’t worked for him, what he did wrong during those relationships, she knew everything. and 

everyday he tried his hardest not to repeat them, and she could see it, all the guys could see it.

he started paying more attention in class, his grades went up, much to his parent’s happiness, he worked harder in practice and in the gym. he found a new type of motivation when he started dating her, he matured a whole lot and stopped playing stupid pranks, and the boy made sure to thank her almost everytime they saw her. 

but there was something about their relationship that was odd, something that everyone knew about, but never saw. they’re complete opposite. she’s a bookworm, top student in all of her classes, who prefers to spend her friday nights in her appartement reading a book. he’s the life of the party, going to every single one he can and getting drunk out of his mind almost every time. that caused a lot of problems in their relationship, but they both tried hard to make it work. 

but going to parties was just not one of those things that brianna could change, no matter how hard she tried. but she didn’t want to disappoint him, he read a book almost per week for her, he changed part of his lifestyle for her, but she couldn’t do the same, making her feel guilty every time she told him how much she had enjoyed her night.

another problem about going to parties with brendan was that he never gave her the slightest bit of attention, didn’t offer her a drink, didn’t put his arm around her shoulders, didn’t kiss her, nothing. she understood that he wasn’t exactly comfortable yet with being all lovey-dovey in big crowds, since they had only been dating for about 2 months, but putting his arms around her shoulders wasn’t that much of a pda, it was barely anything to what others did. 

i’ma crawl outta the window now 

‘cause i don’t like anyone around 

kinda hope you’re following me out 

but this is definitely not my crowd 

her head looked both ways of the hallway, making sure no one was around, before opening the bathroom door and locking it behind herself. once that was done, she let out a long sigh, and started figuring out she could sneak out of this party without anyone noticing. she looked at the window, and slowly opened it and looked beneath her. there was a big path of grass right under the window, and she was pretty certain she could reach the ground if she slipped her legs out and slowly let herself fall. 

only she was interrupted when there was a loud knock on the door, making her jump slightly, she stayed quiet for a bit, hoping that whoever was behind the door would leave soon. 

“babe? i know you’re in there, open the door please.” brendan’s voice echoed from outside the room, making her let out another sigh before unlocking the door and opening it slightly. 

“are you okay? what’s wrong, love?” 

“nothing’s wrong, b. i was just using the bathroom.”

“why’s the window open?” 

“i was a little hot.” she lied as her boyfriend closed the window shut, looking at her in disbelief. 

“it’s october…” brendan trailed off, clearly a little confused as to how on earth she was hot. the falls in ann arbor were that hot, but they weren't extremely hot either, mostly the perfect light sweater or t-shirt with pants weather.

“i know that, dumby. crowds, you know, it gets hot.” she lied again, this time brendan totally believe her, something she was very grateful for. 

“oh, me and some of the guys are gonna go chill in the basement, there’s less people and it’s cooler, you should come with.” he said with a small smile on his face, clearly trying his hardest to make his girlfriend as comfortable as possible.

“yeah, sure. that, um, that sounds nice. i’ll meet you down there in a couple of minutes.” she answered, a smile on her as well. the brisson boy placed a kiss on her lips before leaving the room and making his way to the basement. only he found himself walking back up the stairs barely 10 minutes later when brianna still hadn’t made her way down. only when he opened the bathroom door, the window was yet again open, but there was to trace of the girl anywhere, and no one had seen her leave the bathroom. 

which meant one thing and one thing only, she had left through the window, something that made brendan feel a pang of hurt in his heart.

nineteen but you act twenty-five now 

knees weak, but you talk pretty proud, wow 

ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed 

take where the music ain’t too loud 

tarde drinks, but you don’t even know her 

save me ‘till the party is over 

kiss me in the seat of your rover 

real sweet, but i wish you were sober 

“you left?” he asked her, well more stated than anything. the answer to that question was pretty obvious considering he found her sitting outside one of the school’s libraries, a book in hand. which lead to her sitting in the passenger seat of the car his dad had bought him during the summer, it was a pretty luxurious car, one that a college student clearly couldn’t afford for themselves. 

“i was bored.” she tried to dismiss it, but brendan clearly wasn’t ready to let go of the whole situation. 

“babe, i’ve told you a million time, if you wanna leave just tell me and we’ll leave. don’t just leave like that, it scared the shit out of me.” he said softly as his eyes stared straight into the garage door in front of the car.

“i know, i know. but you were having fun and i didn’t want to ruin that.” she explained with a sigh, her eyes looking outside the car window, directly to her front door. brendan let out a sigh of his own, running a hand through his hair before opening his mouth.

“we’ll ta– i’ll pick you tomorrow for your class, okay? i’ll bring a coffee and we can talk about more then, alright?” he spoke in a soft voice, earning a nod from his girlfriend. she was about to open the door when he grabbed her left arm, making her look back at him. 

“gimme a kiss.” he said, puckering his lips, making the garcia girl shake her head lightly before leaning in and connecting their lips. 

“good night.” she whispered once they pulled away from each other, much to brendan’s displeasure. it’s the small moments like these that made her feel like she had finally experienced teenage love, even though she was turning 20 in a couple of months. the small moments she had read over and over in the millions and millions of books she had read since she was 12 years old. she was finally experiencing it, she finally understood all those girls who stayed with their boyfriends even though he didn’t treat her right or cheated on her. because even if brendan treated her horribly, which he thankfully doesn’t, it was the small moments like this one that would make her stay until he decides she’s no longer enough for her. 

tripped down the road, walking home 

you kissed me at your door 

pulling me close, begging me to stay over 

but i’m over this rollercoaster 

“stay?” brendan asked, his lips pulled away from her’s. it had been almost 2 weeks since brianna had snuck out of the party they had attended, and they now found themselves coming back from the small get together the boys decided to have for the brisson boy’s birthday. these small little get together had always been something the garcia girl had been comfortable attending, since it was only people she knew, and there was plenty of room for everyone to move around freely, so tonight went pretty much perfectly for her, no urgent need to sneak out the bathroom window again, no feeling that she was suffact between the walls because of how crowded it was. 

the boys also had a game early that night, which they sadly lost, but brendan didn’t care that much, since he got to spend the whole night with his best friends and his favourite person on earth, her. something that made a bright shade of red creep up on her face, a big laugh leaving brendan’s mouth. 

“you have a game tomorrow, love.” another thing brianna had instead on ever since they started dating was that she couldn’t sleep over at his house, and he couldn’t sleep over at her’s when he had a game the next day, simply because it took brendan hours to fall asleep when she’s there. either because he always wants kisses, wants to talk for hours and hours, or he’s simply just looking at her sleep, wondering how he got so lucky. 

“but it’s my birthday.” he whined with a frown, something he knew always made her feel bad about whatever had happened. 

“fine, but you have to promise to go to sleep.” 

“pinky promise!” he exclaimed, a big smile on his face as he opened the door of the house and pulled her inside, a small yelp leaving her mouth.

i’ma crawl outta the window now 

getting good at saying, “gotta bounce” 

honestly you always let me down 

and i know we’re not just hanging out 

brianna let out a sigh as she looked around the crowded house for her boyfriend. it was now late december, classes were ending in a couple of days, meaning everyone was going to start heading home soon, meaning the two lovers tried to spend as much time together as possible. and since brendan had finished yet another book a couple of days ago, the two of them found themselves at a party, only the girl didn’t know she was attending a party tonight, brendan only telling her ‘let’s hangout’ earlier that day.

“hey, you okay?” blanks asked, grabbing her arm as she walked past him, making her stop in her tracks. she turned around to look at him and gave him a small smile. 

“yeah, yeah i’m okay. could you, um, could you tell bren that i’m going home? i can’t find him.” she asked politely, she was pretty close with her boyfriend’s teammate, but she found it hard to get along with the older one’s, since they didn’t have much in common, including their ages. 

“yeah, of course, no problem. are you– are you walking?” 

“yeah. it’s just a couple of minutes–” 

“i’ll walk you home.” the blankenburg boy quickly said, even though they weren’t that close, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her on her way home. 

“oh, no. nick, it’s okay, i’ll be fine.” she insisted, not wanting to ruin the boy’s night. 

“bri, just let me walk you home.” he said, using a voice she heard him use a whole when he was trying to get the team under control at a restaurant or elsewhere. brianna looked around again, hoping to maybe find her boyfriend, but when she didn’t she looked back at nick with a sigh. 

“fine.”

nineteen but you act twenty-five now 

knees weak, but you talk pretty proud, wow 

ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed 

take where the music ain’t too loud 

tarde drinks, but you don’t even know her 

save me ‘till the party is over 

kiss me in the seat of your rover 

real sweet, but i wish you were sober 

the garcia girl had fallen asleep on her couch barely minutes after she had made it home, nick making sure to walk her all the way up to her front door, since everything was pretty icy, he had hoped one of her roommates would be home, since the girl was clearly a little upset, but unfortunately no one was home.

2 hours later, the girl got woken by her boyfriend walked through the front door not so quietly. a few curse leaving his mouth as he accidentally slammed the door closed, which made brianna quickly sit up on the couch, rubbing her eyes so she could see who was there. 

“bren?” she asked, her voice a little rasp. her voice made the boy turn around, a big smile creeping up on his face once he realized who had spoken and that his eyes had landed her on frame. 

“baby! i was looking for you for like forever, and then blanks told me you were home.” he said, small giggles leaving his mouth every once in a while, clearly still very drunk. the girl let out a sigh as he sat down next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder. 

“i love you, you know.” he said, making her wince a bit. she had heard those three words leave his mouth plenty of times every since his birthday, so about 2 months. only he only said them when he was drunk, and he never remembered it in the morning, making her heart ache every single time. the first couple of times she answered him, with those three same words, but she stopped once he realized he wouldn’t remember it or say it again until he was smashed. 

“why do you never say it back?” 

“huh?” 

“everytime i tell you i love you, you never say it back. do you not love me?” he asked with a frown on his face, making the girl’s heart ache once again. it was the complete opposite of what brendan had said, she loved him, more than anything, hell she was pretty sure she was almost in love with him. she just couldn’t find it in herself to say those words while he wasn’t sober anymore. 

“‘cause you’re always drunk when you say it, b.” 

“so what? drunk thoughts are sober words, or whatever the saying it. just because i’m drunk doesn’t mean i don’t love you when i’m sober–” 

“that’s not what i meant, bren. everytime you’re drunk you say it, but you don’t even remember it in the morning, you only say it when you’re drunk, brendan. i need more than that!” she spoke up, not even sure of what she was saying, letting her heart speak instead of her head for once. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i need more than drunk i love you’s. i need more than you give me, brendan!” she quickly answered, she hadn’t realized what she had said until her eyes met with brendan’s, who was clearly hurt by her words. 

“i’m giving you all i have, bri!” 

“and that’s not enough for me, brendan!” she yelled, a tear slipping past her eye socket, rolling down her cheek as brendan sat there on her couch, bottom lips shaking a bit as he tried to find words to say.

“i’m not enough for you?” he asked in a small voice. pretty early on in their relationship,brendan had explained to her that ever since he was about 14, he had never really felt like he was enough for his dad, that he never reached his dad’s expectations, she had spent hours and hours telling him that he’d always be enough for her, something she truly meant it the moment, but as sat on her couch, him coming home in the early morning hours drunk out of his mind yet again, she regretted all of those promises she had made.

“i– i’m so sorry, bren. i just– i can’t keep doing this, acting like i’m okay with you always leaving me behind at parties and coming up in the middle of the night drunk out of your mind.” she whispered, her eyes looking everywhere around the room but into his, making his heart slowly break. he didn’t say anything, he just stared at her as a tear trickled down his face, not even bothering to wipe it away like he normally did. 

“you can sleep on the couch for tonight, eat and drink something if you want. but i, uh, i’m gonna go to bed. good night, brendan.” she whispered again, her eyes finally meeting his as she struggled to get her words out. she wasted no time after that making her way up the stairs to her bedroom, not looking back at the boy even once. 

i wish, i wish, i wish, i wish, i wish 

i wish you were sober 

i wish, i wish, i wish, i wish, i wish 

i wish you were sober 

“i just… i don’t understand. everything was great, and then she just broke up with me.” brendan complained to his teammates as he threw his head back, the liquor making his throat burn.

“maybe because of what you’re doing right now…?” blanks said, on the walk to your house only hours before the whole break up happened, you had explained to him how angry you were about brendan always drinking pretty much everyday, especially when he knew you didn’t like it. 

“complaining? nah, bro, she always said it was cute or whatever.” 

“dude, i meant drinking.” blanks said with a bit of attitude, making the brisson boy scoff a bit.

“no way, dude. she always–” 

“do you even remember what happened, briss?” one of the others boys asked him, only getting a shrug in response. all of the boys knew exactly what had happened in the girl’s living room that morning, she had quickly explained the next morning to all of them that she wouldn’t be attending the game later that night, but she wished them all good luck. 

“not really, i woke up on her couch and when i went to hug she pushed me away. said she broke up with that morning. dude, i don’t even remember how i got to her house.” brendan said with a laugh at the head, making pretty much all of his teammates let out a scoff. they hadn’t realized how bad brendan’s drinking problem was until brianna had mentioned with she had broken up with the boy, and now, as they listened and watched up drink his maybe 5th drink in the last house, they didn’t blame her for doing it.

taglist <3 @mack-samo @hugheshugs @nickblankenburgg @studsccsnackavoybambi @blanksbae @doyouevenplayhockey @dracoswhore007 @bemybinarystar @ancient-remnants-of-love @power2myheart @emsully2002 @cuttergauth @jayda12 @marcoskasper @mackieraymonds @bowen-power @sidcrosbyspuck @arianabordeleau @bordeleau @sslafkovsky @dora-the-exploraah @sophia-bordeleau @cuttergauthierr

[planetpolyglot]

[006] thanks, but no, but thanks!

speaking both french and japanese means that more often than not i am caught between two polar opposites.

according to my mother, when someone gives you a compliment, the polite response is to refuse it, because accepting it comes off as arrogant. (think regina george and her "so you agree, you think youre really pretty" spiel.) that backfired real quickly in front of non-asians. when i first started learning french, my teacher offhandedly said to me, "tu dessines bien, toi!" to which i responded "je ne suis pas d'accord" with a big smile on my face. the poor woman, she was so shocked. "mais astro, on ne dit pas ça, il faut dire merci!" i was very happy to have something to be humble about, but not many westerners seem to understand that, even when i spell it out to them. i think it might be because self confidence is such a prized quality in the west, it tends to overshadow everything else.

and then there's japan. somehow the only situation where saying thank you is wrong is when receiving a compliment. on top of that, most compliments that the japanese give are usually extremely backhanded but will be played as sincere to disguise whatever negative sentiments they may have. i once went to a 24-hour karaoke with friends i didnt know very well at the time, the cheap chain kind where we could get drunk without breaking the bank. one of them took a bite of their food and without any prompting, announced that their plate looked and smelled great, implying that it tasted like shit. if she had meant what she said, she would have told us before she started eating. some japanese people steer clear of me because i almost always mean exactly what i say, and that terrifies them. on the other hand, ive met plenty of people who find my candor refreshing.

i was bullied for all sorts of things at school, by mean popular girls who disguised all of their insults as compliments, including but not limited to: "your calves are enormous, where did you get those?" "you know so much, it's like you're autistic or something" "wow, you fit through the door!" and when i was visibly sick, "you've lost so much weight thanks to your aids infection!" i now have a hard time working out whether someone means well or not because ive gotten so used to being in defense mode all the time.

things are looking up for me though. cant believe im now surrounded by people who actually like me. it takes getting used to. maybe one day i can accept their love without having to think twice, but until then, my life will still be a delicate balancing act between "thanks" and "no", and im ok with that.

[apinchofm]

Girls Like Girls

Eloise being a confused lesbian, Edwina being an adorable lesbian, they both love books and their elder siblings are tired.

Am I gay?

Eloise always knew she was a little different from her siblings. She wasn't like Daphne who had planned her wedding and family from the age of seven and envisioned the perfect man to marry. She was not like Francesca who had a magnetic personality.

But she didn't quite fit. But then she met someone who made her think she might just fit a little bit.

....

Edwina Sharma was a walking ray of sunshine. She liked to see the best in everyone and everything. It was how she viewed life, even if the world could be cruel.

Why be cruel in return?

"Come on, didi!" She still used the nickname she called Kate when she was a baby, learning to speak. She did not know why, but it had just stuck.

Kate shook her head, standing from her chair, "They are across the street and it's a Sunday. I doubt we shall be late for anything."

"But we moved in Friday and isn't Lady Bridgerton Amma's friend?" Edwina pushed. She liked making a good first impression. Especially if she'll be living closely with these people.

Kate grinned and shook her head, "Get Newton. Who can say no to him?"

They walked across the quiet street to the Bridgerton House. Mayfair was always quiet.

Violet opened the door, smiling at the two of them, "Hello. Oh, you are Mary's girls! I'm Violet. Where is your mother?"

"Mum had an emergency call at the hospital, so she told us to bring you the cake." Kate supplied, handing her the tin which Violet took gratefully, slightly opening the tin to smell the sticky date cake she had made.

"Come in girls for a cup of tea and to meet some of the children. It's Sunday, so all of them are home for once," She opened the door wider, excited to have them here.

"This is Newton." Edwina introduced the corgi in her arms. And he barked happily at the mention of his name. Violet scratched him behind the ears and said he was free to run around.

"You have a beautiful home," Edwina observed, "Perhaps you may convince my mother to let me tale direction over the house.

"We are not having a pink house!" Kate laughed, "She would cover the kitchen in glitter!"

"Nothing wrong with a splash of colour," Violet laughed, "Edwina, I believe you are starting upper school at the same time as my daughter Eloise. She's through there in the drawing room."

"I should-" Kate wanted to supervise but Violet had the older girl hooked on to her arm.

"Kate dear, you can help me with the tea and my sons are in the kitchen, they would love to meet you..." Edwina laughed as Violet and their mother had obviously planned to set Kate up.

She walked straight through to the drawing room (she didn't know people still called it that) to see who she presumed to be Eloise buried in a torn up copy of Wollstonecraft's Vindication of the Rights of Women.

Edwina smiled brightly at Eloise who looked up and stared. Edwina was just really pretty. Really pretty. Oh no.

Her long dark hair was tied back with a yellow scarf that matched the deep yellow of her floral dress. Even her trainers were pristine and white, but not new.

"Hi." Eloise squeaked quietly. This did not deter the smiling girl who sat across from her, still smiling.

How was it possible for someone to smile so much?

"Hello! I'm Edwina. Your mum said that we would be in upper school together, starting next week. What do you study?"

"Um, English, Politics, History and French." Eloise listed and she nodded, very interested.

"I'm also in English and History! Glad to know I will know somebody." Edwina said, "Also Philosophy and Sociology."

"Not Latin?" Eloise asked dryly but if Edwina had picked up on the tone, she didn't show it, still grinning.

"No, I'm fluent already." Edwina mused, "Kate, my sister said I should have picked it for fun."

Crazy people could be pretty too. Her eldest three brothers' had exes and who could attest to that.

But she seemed perfectly sane.

...

Eloise was determined not to like Edwina. No matter how well read she was and the fact that she cared about issues in the world. Or how annoyingly pretty she was and was slowly changing Eloise's ideas on pink being awful when she wore it so well.

"What's she like?" Penelope asked, first day back. She knew about Mary Sharma, thanks to the gossip spread by her mother Portia who had leaned out of the family towncar to tut at Mary dropping her youngest at school herself.

"You can ask her." Eloise muttered, seeing Edwina pass by Cressida Cowper who had spoken to her for about ten seconds, looking nervously around before spotting the two. Her dark pink cord jacket and her floral dress made her easy to spot in Eloise's eyes.

"Hello, Eloise." Edwina smiled and looked at Penelope smiling brightly, "Hello. I'm Edwina."

"Penelope Featherington." Penelope introduced, "My mama was saying that your mother ran away when she was younger. Is that true?"

Edwina nodded, "It is. But no one ever tells me the full story. By the way, I really like your blouse."

"Oh, you're joking." Penelope nervously tittered looking down at her orange blouse. Eloise on the inside felt vindicated - there was something wrong with her!

"No!" Edwina immediately said, her eyes wide with worry, "I really do like it on you. Yes, the orange may clash with your hair but you wear it very well. And that is all that matters."

"Oh, thank you." Penelope was surprised, then looked at her watch, "I have Drama. See you at lunch."

"English is on Tuesdays. Study days on Monday for us, luckily," Eloise explained.

"You didn't have to be nice to Penelope," Eloise said when they were sat at a table together.

"Why not?" Edwina was confused, "I really liked her blouse. It was pretty."

"I saw Cressida Cowper and her swarm of dolls approach you."

"Cressida? That's her name?" Edwina had barely registered the girl, "She was merely greeting me. She asked if I would like to play tennis with her friends but I have never liked to play, merely spectate. Kate is the better athlete. I prefer things like gymnastics or just my books."

"Apologises, I am rambling." Edwina's face warmed.

"No. It's fine." Eloise assured her, "Usually, I am stuck with my own thoughts when Pen has her classes so, it's...nice,"

"I am glad." The silence, for the first time for Eloise, was not uncomfortable.

...

They swap books all the time. Edwina's books are neatly preserved with handmade bookmarks and covers on the older tomes inherited from her appa's library. Eloise is the complete opposite. The more she loves the book, the messier it is. Edwina does not mind, she actually wishes she could be less anal-retentive when it comes to her books.

"It's not a bad thing," Eloise said when they were at lunch.

"You could be neater, El," Penelope teased and Edwina giggled.

"Here." Edwina gives her a neatly wrapped box the following day and she is confused because well, it is not her birthday.

She opens it to see three homemade bookmarks - one made with embroidery with her name another with a strand of dried lavender and another coloured in watercolours of a sunset.

"I love that you wear your books out and the dog-eared pages, but I need you to have bookmarks. So I made you some." Edwina explained.

Eloise is shocked and she runs her hands gently over the embroidered bookmark. Blues and purples threads. Her favourite colours. She did not even know that she knew.

"I-Thank you." Eloise shyly smiles, "I love them."

"I am glad!" Edwina said and then she went back to her work as if she had not just broken through.

...

"Eloise?" Penelope shook her gently and noticed she was deep in thought. Lying on her bed on a Saturday morning, which was unusual for her.

No. She was in shock. Considering she was just staring up at the ceiling, concerned.

Penelope quickly went to get Violet and upon seeing her daughter frowned.

"Oh dear. I'll call Benedict."

Benedict was always able to talk to Eloise. They had their own language - two kindred spirits.

He arrived an hour later and flopped down next to Eloise, "Morning. I am having a shit hangover, El. What's wrong?'

"How do I get a girl to like me?"

"Are you finally trying to make more friends?" He asked dryly. She tended to accidentally on purpose insult her classmates.

And acquaintances. And strangers.

"I mean, romantically. There is a girl and I want her to like me." Eloise murmured.

"Does she like you?"

"How can I tell?" She almost whined petulantly.

"Ask."

"I can't just ask! God, you ninny!" She pinched his shoulder.

"We'll make a checklist." Benedict reached over and plucked a pen from her bedside and a sticky note, "What would you like her to do to prove she likes you?'

Eloise thought. Daphne liked all the flowers and presents Simon brought her which proved his affection as they always meant something. But someone can buy you something nice and not like you as much as you like them.

"I want her to kiss me," Eloise admitted, finally looking at him. Benedict gave his sister a sympathetic smile.

"Well, when she kisses you, that is when you definitely know she likes you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now. Please get up before mother and Pen call an ambulance. I think they believe you literally died of embarrassment."

...

"We can study wherever." Edwina shrugged, with a small smile. She leads her through the fragrant and bright Sharma household. Mary pokes her head out of her home office, on a phone call with one of her colleagues blowing a quick kiss to her daughter and waving to Eloise.

"Are you okay El?" Edwina asked, seeing the faraway look in her eyes.

"What did you say?" Eloise blinked.

"El? Sorry, I just heard Penelope call you that," Her face warmed in embarrassment and she thought it made her somehow more adorable.

"No, no." Eloise was quick, "You can call me El too. I'd like that. I may not have a nickname for you."

"That's okay." Edwina shrugged then her attention was on the troublesome corgi who had an old stethoscope in its mouth.

"Newton, atai viṭu!" And he immediately turned back to Edwina, dropping the object at her feet, sitting patiently.

"Your dog speaks Hindi?" Eloise asked.

"Tamil," She corrected gently, "Yes. It's why he causes mischief. But he does understand English; he just ignores it unless it's amma calling him." She giggled and Eloise laughed with her.

And when Edwina hugged her tightly, even though she was only going across the road, she wanted to melt there and then as she inhaled her familiar vanilla perfume.

So she sprints away.

...

"Eloise!"

Eloise turned around at the sound of her name being called and saw Edwina running after her and holding her copy of The Big Sleep.

"You dropped this." Edwina said, slightly breathless, "You are very fast."

"Sorry," She sniffed, taking the book. She felt so silly.

"It's okay." Edwina said, concerned "Did I do something?"

"No, it was me. My stupid list, which only has one thing on it!" Eloise ranted.

"El." Edwina holds one of her hands, "It's okay. What's on the list?"

Eloise blushes, "I wanted you to kiss me because I thought you liked me but it's okay because-"

Edwina leaned up slightly to kiss her and Eloise could not help kissing her back. Her hands wrapped around her waist, holding on to her. It was not perfect, a little messy but so right.

Edwina pulled away, "That was nice. Kate told me to always kiss first. It's polite."

"I'll see you at school tomorrow." And Edwina grinned, her cheeks warm and she skipped away.

Eloise arrives home and just leans against the front door when she gets inside, clutching her book to her chest and biting her lip. She can still taste her cherry lip balm.

"What has you grinning?" She looked up to see her mother coming downstairs with a vase of flowers that she set on the round table, "Make anyone cry today?"

"A girl kissed me," Eloise said, still smiling and Violet smiled.

"How wonderful. Now do clean up dear, dinner is in fifteen minutes." Violet said and then walked to the drawing room.

A girl kissed her and her world did not fall apart as she feared.

[naquey]

Is there any chance you could write more Nanbaka? It doesn't matter what it is, I just need to see more fancontent because the fandom is mostly dead and it's just a webcomic and not an anime.

Dudes, not to age myself even though my blog has my age on it, I used to love Nanbaka in middle school. I wasn't really allowed creative freedom by the one person who talked to me about it. Makes inner child me pretty happy to know that I can have creative freedom.

"Hajime, you forgot your lunch!"

The supervisor of building thirteen froze. Coincidentally he was doing his rounds, just so happened to be standing in front of cell thirteen. Now, the boys in that cell haven't met their counsellor due to Hajime finding every reason not to let them.

"Why do you look so scared? It's only me." She had this hint of a French accent and smelled of thin floral perfume.

The cell went wild.

"Hello pretty lady, I'm Uno!" The blonde inmate squished his face as close to the bars as he could.

"Your eyes look so cool! What are you doing here?" A little green haired boy was next, his face actually slid between the bars.

"Don't tell me you're Hajime's sister, that would be a bummer." A tall young man with purple and red hair was just leaning against the bars, he towered over his two cellmates.

"Hajime, are these the inmates from cell thirteen?" The pink haired woman asked sweetly, her eyes wide as she stared at the bald man.

He knew he was in danger.

"Look at the time, I'm going to be late for more paperwork--"

Hajime tried to leave, tried to use work as an excuse and hoped that maybe she would let him go. His body stiffened when she grabbed the back of his coat to keep him from leaving.

"I thought I told you that I wanted to meet with these four." She smiled despite how tightly her grip on his jacket was.

"I haven't gotten around to approving the meeting." He responded anxiously.

The boys in cell thirteen have never seen Hajime anxious.

"Hajime Sugoroku, are you really messing with my work?"

"No, Mei, I'm not messing with your work."

Once she let go of his jacket, he turned to face her. Eyes looking anywhere but her, it was a comical sight for the four inmates. It was a blessing for them to see this going down.

"Okay, good, then I expect to see them the next time I visit Nanba." That sweet smile was back on her face as she lifted up a bento. Giving it to him. "You forgot your lunch, dear."

That broke the inmates entirely.

"Since when do you get a girl you bald gorilla?!" The blonde was the first to shout, no longer in shock.

"Yeah! It's not fair the rest of us!" The tall one snarled.

"You're in prison. It's not like you'd have time for that anyway." Hajime spoke calmly, holding the bento in his hands so delicately. He swore he didn't forget his lunch. Was this an excuse just to come see him?

"So, when do you take your lunch break?"

It was.

"Come on, before these idiots try to actually do something."

Unlike a gentleman he led Mei to the office by her arm, she didn't seem to mind it. Giggling behind her hand. She did this deliberately, especially after reading the inmates case files.

[moe-broey]

HIGHLIGHTS.

> Someone w a bandana covering their entire face/head w punk pants VERY QUICKLY dashed down the sidewalk shouting "NO COPS AT PRIDE" and such and like everyone around them INCLUDING myself joined in like "YEAH FUCK COPS" "FIRST PRIDE WAS A RIOT" "GET THEIR ASS" <- from me specifically and there. Was a VERY pretty tgirl in a white dress and battle vest we kind of shared glances seconds before this and GOD I WISH. I WISH remembered exactly what she said but something about how a cop something something is still a pig and she had a big communism flag draped around her shoulders and for a second I think I fell in love. Maybe besides the point though it was just ALL so reassuring actually and epic and cool waiting in line for french fries

> THWRE WERE ACTUALLY??? SO MANY PUNK PEOPLE ACTUALLY?????? I'm not sure if it was just more on my radar now bc well. You know *vaguely gestering at all of me* but it was so fucking cool. Like holy shit there ARE punks in [redacted]

> Very glam moment where me and my sister tried desperately to figure out how we're going to eat our french fries when it's raining and we're carrying umbrellas and we just. Were squatted and hunched over on the (wet) grass using One umbrella as a table sort of while I tried to balance the other umbrella when I'm already struggling to stay steady anyway and I'm carrying a purse (did not help w balancing the umbrella). To eat our fries with ketchup. So primal

> Only One (1) cop at pride! Still too many but it is much better than last year I don't know what the fuck was up last year. That pride was so cursed and evil

> I got! A lot of compliments!! On my jacket :)

> I. HAD AN ENCOUNTER. WITH AN OLD FRIEND AND IT WAS SO WILD like we haven't been in touch in years I met them in middle school we had an EXTREMELY funny Thing that lasted for like One Day bc we were the only "girls" we knew who were having sexuality troubles and questions and we held hands Once and boldly told everyone we were dating and then like. We both backed out quickly HAHAHA but it was enough to brand us as Lesbians (derogatory middle schooler voice of our peers) and we've had fated encounters at pride events ever since, somehow. Even after I moved. Stars aligned for us to always be two ships passing in the night whenever there's a pride event HAHAHAHA (IT WAS SO NICE TO SEE THEM THOUGH it WAS like seeing a ghost I'm honestly so shocked we recognized each other immediately. It was so good 🥲)

> oughh... I just felt. Emotional. Like. I did feel this sort of air of tenseness, almost somberness, but it was so subtle. More strongly there was just so much fighting spirit, I think. We're here, we're queer, we're not going anywhere. I also just felt joy in the air, too. It was so nice.

> OH MY GOSH HOW COULD I FORGET....... just little interactions from the people who were marching as my sister and I were right up close but just watching the parade. Like, there was a roller derby float and I was like "YOOO Roller Derby...." and one of the people (IN SKATES!) was like, "Yeah tryouts are next week!!!" AND. AND. MY FAVE INTERACTION MAYBE was a lil old lady actively knitting as she marched and she said to me "You should learn how to knit :)" and just kept walking. While knitting. And you know what she is SO right I've wanted to learn how to knit for years.......

> I did have to leave p much as soon as the parade was done bc of overstimulation but, as we were on our way out. I was talking to my sister and I was like "Yeah good pride! Only thing though that's kind of a bummer is that there were no kinksters.... it's sad and concerning where ARE they" AND. LITERALLY. Dude in front of us turns around Wearing A Pup Mask and was like "YEAH RIGHT?!?!?" HAHAHAHA we had a very enthusiastic conversation it was SO funny and also. Just really heartwarming actually? Like yeah. We're all still here. Even if it's just a few. Or even just one. Still here.

Anyways peace amd love on planet earth there is strength in community and you're not alone. Even if you feel like a feral kitten that needs to be socialized or perhaps a hermit that lives in a secluded tower, you're not alone and there are people like you. Closer than you think 🫡

[the-fiction-witch]

Blu P5

Media TMR AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet + Spooky

Concept Spa

I woke up again after good while noticing it was literally another day, oh my god. I don't think I need a spa I think I just need to find a dragon cave and just sleep for a few million years. I got up and had a nice hot shower using some of the nice soap they supplied and a fresh fluffy towel once I got dressed I noticed some paper slipped under my door for a moment I was concerned but I picked it up noticing it was my schedule for the week breakfast, dinner and various experiences booked in at various times and a note I was welcome to any amenities outside of my booked treatments, my first wasn't till eleven today so I had time to go grab my breakfast, I headed out locking the room up and going to the restaurant it was all very much the same style wooden tables with metal legs and slate place mats large windows making it sort of look like a greenhouse or conservatory with a glass roof and a glass wall to overlook the scenery with the same blue pool outside my room just out the snowy window. 

And I found Thomas and Minho at a table with a open seat they waved me over so I went and sat with them, 

"We were starting to think you were dead" Minho laughed having a coffee

"Yeah sorry I'm not good with travelling I just was knocked out as soon as I got in my room" 

"It's cool, I think everyone kinda was" Thomas shrugged

"Yeah, so what's the food situation?" I asked 

"You just wait" Minho shrugs 

"Wait? How do they know what we want then?"

"I don't know but they seem to be pretty good" 

At that moment a man arrived in the same uniform as the men who met us when we arrived they brought us each a plate, Minho was more coffee and a breakfast sandwich, Thomas had chocolate chip pancakes with syrup and I had french toast with a side of fresh strawberries they wondered off leaving us to it and immediately I was confused

"How did they know that's what we'd each want?"

'I don't know, maybe they're magic. Don't question it just enjoy it" Minho told me 

I guess he's right no point arguing so I had my breakfast and it was delicious and we all decided as we weren't busy till later to go for a jump in the pool so I went back to my room and changed grabbing a towel heading out to the actual spa area, again the theming had stuck giving it a very onsen kinda vibe there was so much to do saunas, pools, massages, different things to bathe in and shower under, anything relaxing you could imagine was back here, and then the main attraction. It started inside a wood lined pool of this blue water steaming as it sat there then doors out to the main area, a huge outdoor pool of the same blue, steaming in the cold snow, with various hot tub area's, small nooks to sit, a waterfall of stone in the corner, even a swim up bar all overlooking the mountains. 

I was kinda nervous looking at the strange colour of the water but Minho and Thomas basically forced me, the bottom was strange it kinda felt like wet sand but smoother, silkier, but strong not like you could sink into it, the moment my skin touched the water I felt relaxed as if a wave went over me as the water touched me flexing and relaxing each and every muscle in my body the smooth warmth cradling me like being wrapped in a soft blanket even though it was busy with people it was so quiet where everyone was so relaxed we swam out into the outside section sand for a while I just sat on a little seat watching the waterfall and the snow 

"Oop- sorry" a voice spoke up as someone bumped into me 

"Ohh it's okay" I muttered back quickly turning to see, her the girl from the room nextdoor "hi"

"Hi" she smiled in a little blue swimsuit with black cat faces all over it her hair up in a bun "y/n" she smiled taking her hand from the water

"Newt," I smiled giving it a shake immediately i saw Thomas and Minho out the corner of my eye clearly taking the piss but she was actually really cute and I do want to compliment her atleast to try and keep the conversation going "I uhh I like your ti- kitties. Kitties. The cats on your swimsuit" 

She giggled a little a little red in her cheeks I'm pretty sure I completely turned red "I like your stripes" she smiled 

"Uuhhh thank you" I smiled nervously fixing my hair and my striped shorts a little "have uhh you been here long?"

"No, got in a couple of days ago. You?"

"Yesterday"

"Aww you ever been before?'

'no, never, you?"

"A few times yeah, I'd be more then happy to show you some more secret things or help you out if you get lost"

"Thanks that'd be great" 

"You wanna swim to the bar and grab a drink?"

"Yeah sure" I nodded 

[sturchling]

I loved the Avengers story you wrote!! I hope it's not too much to ask for another so soon, but I had this idea. What if Peter goes on a trip with Tony to France while he does some work, but on the condition that he has to go to school. So he goes to Dupont. He ends up in Bustier's class as a temporary student, not mentioning he's there with Tony Stark, but mentions he's from NYC. Lila takes that as a cue to start lying about knowing Tony Stark. Peter is not amused. Nor is Tony. Who sues her.

Sorry this took so long! Got so busy out of no where and then the rainy season started! But here you go! Hope you like it!

Peter was very excited today. Mr. Stark was going to Paris for some business for the next several weeks and Peter had convinced Mr. Stark to let him come too. Peter had never been to France and had always really wanted to go. He spent days convincing Mr. Stark, telling him that it would be a good educational opportunity to learn about France and to practice his French. Of course, Tony had always intended on Peter coming with him, not that he ever would tell the kid that. Tony had found Peter's attempts at convincing him pretty funny actually. Tony 'relented' and said Peter could come, on the condition that he attend a school while they are there, since they would be there for several weeks. Peter eagerly agreed and the pair started looking into potential schools for Peter.

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

The two wanted to make sure that they choose a school with an excellent curriculum and was a fantastic school for peter. After a while, they found one school that looked particularly promising. Francois Dupont. All the students seemed to excel in their studies and the school had classes for several diverse interests. Peter was especially interested in Mrs. Mendeleiev, seeing as she is the science teacher. Once they had decided on this school, Tony started filing paperwork to temporarily transfer Peter to this school. Peter was soon accepted to Francois Dupont and got his class assignment. He had been placed in Mrs. Bustier's class. Soon, Tony and Peter were ready to leave for Paris and were on the way to the airport.

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

Peter had arrived early at Francois Dupont for his first day at the school. He was now sitting in the principal's, Mr. Damocles' office, and the principal was going over some of the rules for the school. After a while, the door opened behind Peter and a smaller girl with dark hair walked in. "Ah, Peter, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class rep for Mrs. Bustier's class. Miss Dupain-Cheng, thank you for coming. This is Peter Parker. He has temporarily transferred into your class and as class rep, I would like you to show him around the school." The girl, Marinette, smiled at Peter. "Of course Mr. Damocles. It is nice to meet you Peter! Lets go, I'll show you around." Peter got his bag and followed after Marinette, glad to be free of the rambling principal.

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

Marinette did a fantastic job of showing Peter the school and telling him about the members of the class. Peter had been given a class roster when he arrived, with the names of his new classmates. While Marinette had spoken highly of almost the entire class, she had clearly avoided talking about one student in particular. All Marinette had said about Lila Rossi was that she was a transfer student from Italy. That is it. She had gone on and on about all the other students and their interests and achievements. But she was obviously avoiding discussing Lila, and that didn't escape Peter's notice. He did wonder why Marinette didn't talk about her, and was a bit hesitant about this Lila. If a nice girl like Marinette won't talk about her, maybe this Lila wasn't too nice herself. Peter didn't want to judge her without meeting her, but he would be careful when he did.

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

Peter was sitting in the classroom now. Marinette and he were sitting on a bench towards the back of the room. He really liked Marinette and the two quickly became friends, talking about random things and Peter told her all about New York. The classroom was still mostly empty with only a few other students there. The students that were there had already come to talk to him and welcome him to the class. Then he felt Marinette stiffen next to him. Peter looked over and saw her staring at the door. When he glanced over, he saw a girl had just walked in. This girl had long brown hair in three different ponytails, one at the back and two at the front. She seemed very confident and as soon as she walked in, practically the whole class gathered around her. This girl must be Lila, based on Marinette's reaction. Lila focused in on Peter almost instantly. As she approached his desk with a fake smile on her face, Peter started to understand why Marinette may not like this girl.

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

Lila noticed the new boy immediately when she walked in the room. He was reasonably handsome, and he was a new person to trick. So he had Lila's undivided attention. She was sure she could have him under her spell by lunch. She walked over to the desk he was sitting at, next to little miss goody two shoes Marinette, with her most dazzling smile. "Hi, my name is Lila. Who are you?" Peter smiled tightly at Lila, trying not to judge her based on that very fake smile of hers. "My name is Peter Parker. I have transferred here temporarily from New York." Lila didn't let her smile fail her. But him only being here temporarily is hardly worth the effort on her part. After all, he would leave eventually, and then she couldn't use him in any way. But he could be good practice for her lies anyway. Besides, she has plenty of lies that should work for a New Yorker. Lila prepared for her next performance, not realizing it was the first step in her downfall.

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

"You are from New York? I love New York! I visit there from time to time when my mother's work brings her there. I have a lot of friends there. I even know Tony Stark." That made Peter pause. She knew Mr. Stark? He had never mentioned a Lila or knowing anyone in Paris. It was clear to Peter that this girl was nothing but a liar. He wanted to see how far she would go with this story, and he was sure Mr. Stark would want to know as well. "You know Tony Stark? Really?" Lila saw that Peter was interested so she grabbed on to this story and continued. "Yeah! He is so sweet. He thinks of me like a daughter and sometimes I even get to stay at Stark Tower with him. I've helped him work out some of the problems with a few of his inventions. I've even given some input into his latest Iron Man suit design. There was even this one time that I helped him catch some criminals when he was acting as Iron Man. It was super cool! I could probably introduce you to him sometime if you like?" Peter was genuinely shocked by all the lies this girl just told. There was no way she actually knew Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark would never need her help with his inventions or the Iron Man suit. And he certainly wouldn't involve a random civilian girl in his fights as Iron Man. Peter just nodded and mumbled a thank you, before the class mercifully started and he was left alone. Marinette leaned over and apologized about Lila, but Peter was too busy thinking about what to do to say anything.

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

At the end of the day, Peter went back to the hotel he and Mr. Stark are staying and went straight to Mr. Stark's room. Peter had spoken with Marinette about the liar and asked about everything that she had lied about. He told Mr. Stark everything that happened with the liar, and everything she had said about him. Mr. Stark was angry that this random girl was trying to use him for gain. Tony didn't tolerate this kind of thing at all. If this girl wanted to lie about him, she would find out why that is a bad idea. Tony got on the phone and started speaking to his lawyer. This Lila would regret the day she lied about him.

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

The next day, Peter was sitting in class waiting for the chaos to start. He knew that Mr. Stark was coming, and that he was going to take down the liar. The liar in question was holding court down at the front of the room. She was slightly disappointed that her lies didn't seem to work too well on Peter, but it hardly mattered since he would leave eventually. He just better not try to reveal her or she would make his life difficult for the whole time he is here. About half way through the class, the door to the room slammed open, and in walked Tony Stark. He walked straight to the center of the class, and his lawyers followed, surrounding him. Peter suppressed a smile, Mr. Stark was fond of his grand entrances.

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

Tony looked around at the class, before zeroing in on the girl that Peter had described to him. He took off his glasses, while the class just stared at him stunned. "Lila Rossi, I have heard you have been telling lies about me. What is this nonsense I heard about you helping me with my inventions and suit? I have never met you in my life, and I certainly wouldn't need your help with my work. And you said that I put you in harms way and had you help me with my work as Iron Man. I do not tolerate slander." Tony snaps his fingers, and one of his lawyers drops a thick stack of papers on the desk in front of the liar. The liar stares at the papers in front of her, not even able to understand what is happening. "What is this?" Tony smirked at the young liar. "That is a lawsuit for slander. And before you try to hide this from your mother, because I know you have a habit of keeping things from her, you should know I have already spoken to her and sent a copy of the paperwork to your home. Maybe you will think twice before you try to lie about me again."

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

At this point, Lila gave up trying to hide that she was a liar. That was clearly a lost cause. She had just been revealed in front of the whole class. And she was angry. "How did you find out about me?! I only just said that stuff yesterday! It was Marinette wasn't it?! She has been trying to reveal me for ages, it has to be her! But how did she get in touch with you?!" Tony's smirk only grew. "Actually, I don't know a Marinette. You really should be more careful who you lie too. Isn't that right Peter?" In less than a second, every head snapped around to stare at Peter. Peter took his turn to smile. "That's right Mr. Stark. You never know who someone might know." The whole class looked back and forth between the two, before Lila yelled, "YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?! How could you know Mr. Stark!? You don't seem very important." Tony walked past Lila, and up the stairs towards Peter as he speaks. "Actually, Peter is part of the Stark Industries intern program. He actually does help me in my lab, he is very smart." The whole class was shocked by this revelation. Tony turned to face Peter and Marinette again. "You know Peter, I think we should go get some lunch somewhere. And are you Marinette? Peter told me about you. Why don't you join us." Marinette quickly agreed, still a little shocked that Tony Stark was standing in front of her and had invited her to lunch. The small group left, and the class erupted into chaos. They all turned on Lila demanding answers, asking if she had been lying the entire time. Meanwhile Lila just sat in horrified silence. Everything was over. She had been revealed. She was in so much trouble. She was being sued. And all because she lied about Tony Stark to Peter Parker, the exact worst person to lie to.

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Seven: Trying for Normal (Gifts)

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AO3

“You can not honestly tell me you are thinking of announcing that girl as your daughter.” Damian says, his scowl deeper than Dick had seen it in a while.

“‘That girl’ has a name, Little D. Plus she’s your sister.” Dick says, resisting the urge to nudge him. They had gotten to the point where a small nudge wasn’t a death sentence, but Damian was on edge. And a small nudge would probably not be appreciated.

“I do not care what her name is, Grayson. Since coming to Gotham she has been involved in two separate Rogue attacks. She is suspicious at best, and a nuisance at worst.” He replies, crossing his arms.

“Enough, Damian. Marinette is not a nuisance. She simply has bad luck.” Bruce says, obviously trying to defend his daughter.

“And poor self-preservation skills. Talking back to the Joker? Snarking the Riddler? For an individual with no combat training, she gets much too involved in attacks. It is idiotic.” Damian argues, shaking his head.

“It might have something to do with the Paris situation. She said she’s been at attacks before, so she must have some experience with villains. And from what I read on the Ladyblog, none of the damage in Paris lasts. She just may not realize how dangerous it is for her to do here what she would do in Paris. We just need to warn her, or, at least remind her, that Gotham is a dangerous place.” Dick says, thinking back to her reaction to the Riddler and the Joker. She was definitely more tense with the Joker, despite the fact that both villains had arrived with armed goons. Maybe she thought the Riddler was less likely to kill someone, not true. Or maybe she- Dick frowns as he remembers a key difference between the attacks.

“I just realized something.” He says with a frown.

“Care to share with the rest of the room, Dickiebird?” Jason asks, strolling in and flopping onto a chair.

“She was more tense at the attack with the Joker, she seemed to understand that it was a dangerous situation. Sure, she talked back to him, but she didn’t try to fight back or anything. But at the attack with the Riddler, he wasn’t even targeting her at first. He was targeting the boy she’d been talking to. And she was more reckless, and then she fought back. She fought well, but it was still super dangerous.” Dick rambles, pacing as he explains the predicament.

“Is there a point to this? I feel like I walked in at the wrong time.” Jason calls out from his chair, feet propped up on the table in front of him.

“My point, Jay, is that Marinette has a crush.” Dick says, shuddering at the word like it’s something disgusting. (It is, his sister is too young for crushes and boyfriends).

“Is that why she ran off with him right after the attack?” Jason asks with a smirk. Dick feels his eyes practically shoot out of his head.

“She what!?” He yells, running over to the Batcomputer to look at the security footage from the wax museum. Spots that were targeted frequently, like the wax museum, had their security footage directly linked to the Batcave. Just in case of an emergency or in case an attack happened and they needed an extra set of eyes.

“I’m sure she didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t do.” Jason teases, and Dick pales.

“Shut up, Jason!” He moans, his typing turning frantic as he scrolls through the day’s footage. He stops when he gets to the moments after the battle. When the phones of the French students had all gone off. Frowning, he watches as his sister runs up to the boy and grabs his hand, leaning in and whispering to each other before the two run out of the room. Towards the bathrooms. Oh hell no. Dick scrolls forwards, frowning when they don’t come out in five minutes. Or ten minutes. Huffing, he switches to the cameras aimed at the exits. Surely one of the cameras had to catch the pair leaving the museum. He rewinds it and watches, but...there’s nothing. They don’t leave the bathrooms and they don’t leave the museum. For the rest of the day.

“Has anyone been in contact with her since the attack?” Bruce asks from right beside him, making him jump out of his seat with a yelp.

“I don’t even have her number.” Dick says, resisting the urge to glare at his adoptive father. He might’ve had Marinette’s number had Bruce actually acted like he wanted her to be there for dinner the other day. Instead, he practically ignored her and she left. And now she was missing. Definitely missing, because she never came out of the bathroom at the museum.

“Hello, Marinette? Yes, I apologize for calling so suddenly. I was- yes. Yes, I did hear about the attack….yes, that was part of the reason I was calling. I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner at the manor. You could bring your friend, Adrien Agreste, I believe was his name. Of course. Yes. Oh no, I’ll send a car. No, no I assure you it- Marinette please. Taxis aren’t always safe after dark. Thank you. Yes, I- we’ll see you then. Goodbye.” Bruce hangs up, and Dick looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Just gonna suddenly invite her and her boy toy to dinner, B? What’re you gonna do, interrogate them?” He asks frowning.

“That’s the second time that Marinette has ran off after that alarm. I’ve seen videos of the situation in Paris and I’m concerned. Now go upstairs and act normal. I want all of you on your best behaviors at dinner. Damian, better than best please. No weapons.” Bruce directs before leaving the room, presumably to ask Alfred to pick up Marinette. Dick sighs and looks at his brothers.

“Well this isn’t going to be a disaster or anything.” He says. --- “Tikki this is going to be a disaster!” Marinette whines, throwing herself face first onto the bed. She tries to ignore Tikki’s amused giggle. This was not funny. This was dinner with her family that she hadn’t made a great impression on the first time. And Adrien was invited, and she wasn’t sure where the two stood but she was sure that if Dick was at dinner, he would just push Adrien farther away from her.

“I could practically hear your suffering from Adrien’s room, pigtails.” Plagg says, making Marinette sit up and glare at the Kwami.

“Are you just here to mock me?” She asks, pouting. He snorts.

“No, I’m here to tell you the kid’s on his way over here. I told him you were panicking and he practically ran out his door.” Plagg says with a chuckle. Rapid knocking on the door makes him laugh more before dropping onto the bed next to Tikki. Marinette sighs, rolling off the bed and pulling the door open, jumping forward in time to catch Adrien before he completely falls to the ground.

“Are you okay? Plagg said you were panicking, did something happen?” He asks quickly, looking her up and down. Marinette blinks, slightly taken aback by his sudden concern. It was nice, but still a lot all at once. Shaking her head, she gestures for him to come in and shuts the door behind him. Walking back over to the bed, she once again face plants and groans.

“She’s nervous because Mr. Wayne invited the two of you to dinner.” Tikki chirps, giggling when Marinette lifts her head up enough to glare at her.

“Traitor.” She says, dropping her head back down.

“If you don’t want me to go with Marinette, I won’t.” Adrien says. Marinette immediately jumps up, shaking her head rapidly.

“No, no that’s not what I meant. I just- I’m nervous about actually sitting through a dinner with them. And I’m pretty sure Dick will try and sit between us and glare at you like he did at the museum.” She admits, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“He was glaring at me?” He asks, utter confusion on his face. Marinette groans, dropping her head into her hands.

“Sometimes your obliviousness is cute-”

“You think I’m cute!”

“But right now, it’s kinda making me want to scream into my pillow.” Marinette admits, giving him her signature “not amused” look. A look she usually saves for when Chat Noir is making a pun.

“Wait, why wouldn’t Dick like me?” Adrien asks, thankfully stuck on that now instead of the fact that she thinks he’s cute.

“Um, maybe because we were holding hands? Did you really not notice how he kept standing in between us the entire time we were at the museum?” Marinette asks, suddenly unsure if she’d imagined the whole thing.

“Oh no, I did. I just didn’t think it meant he didn’t like me. I’ve never really dealt with siblings before. I mean, I’ve met Nino’s little brother but...that’s about it.” Adrien says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Marinette sighs, grinning softly.

“I don’t really have a lot of experience either, so maybe I was just imagining things.” She admits. Adrien’s shoulders instantly relax and she smiles. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, did you want me to come with?” He asks after a moment of silence. Marinette nods, agreeing immediately.

“Please. I don’t think I can go back there alone, not yet anyway.”

“Of course, Mari. Now, what’re you wearing?” --- The ride to Wayne Manor wasn’t as quiet as her first, with Adrien making quiet jokes and saying things to try and help keep Marinette out of her head. She was thankful that he had come with, because she was definitely going to need the emotional support to get through dinner. The car stops and Marinette sucks in a deep breath. Smoothing out her skirt nervously, Marinette glances at the small, neatly wrapped package sitting between her and Adrien. It was something she had started back when she first found out she was adopted. And that her parents didn’t know her bio dad. A scrapbook with copies of everything important from her life: baby pictures, school pictures, birth announcement, report cards, clippings from newspapers where she had won or placed in contests, pictures of her early designs and recent designs, pictures of certificates and trophies from various competitions and activities. Basically a road map of her life to be given to her bio dad so that he could get to know her. She’d written her name on the front page, with the words “daughter of Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le” underneath. A sort of amendment to her birth announcement which listed her as the daughter of Tom and Sabine Dupain Cheng. And while she definitely was their daughter, she also wanted Mr. Wayne to know that she wanted to be his daughter too. Not just by blood, which isn’t the important part. No, she wanted to get to know him and for him to get to know her. Pushing down the intruding thoughts insisting that it was too soon and that he didn’t want her in the first place, she opens the car door and steps out, clutching the package to her chest like a safety blanket.

“Would you like me to take that for you, Miss Marinette?” Alfred asks, glancing at the package.

“Oh, no thank you Alfred. It’s for my da- er, um, Mr. Wayne. I can hang onto it.” She says with a bright smile. She could do this. Sure, it didn’t go great the last time she was here. And she was pretty sure Mr. Wayne’s youngest son could kill her and wanted to kill her. But it was fine. Everything is fine. Walking through the front door, her shoulders relax slightly when she sees Dick is the only one standing there waiting for them.

“Marinette! He cheers, rushing forward and picking her up in a hug. As in, legitimately picking her up. Okay then.

“Good to see you too.” She says, trying not to show that he’s literally suffocating her with the hug.

“Good to see you again, Dick!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette feels Dick tense before setting her down, his smile less bright as he looks at Adrien.

“And you. Adrien, right?” He asks, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

“Yup!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette watches cautiously, noticing that Dick seems to be squeezing a little too hard….and then Adrien appears to match his strength, if the look on Dick’s face is anything to go by. Marinette coughs to hide a snort, her face heating up as both boys turn to look at her.

“Uh, is it just you and Mr. Wayne tonight?” Marinette asks, choosing to ignore their awkward handshake.

“Nope! It’s me and Bruce and Alfred, of course, and Jay and Tim and Damian and Cass. Steph’s not in town and Babs is having dinner with her dad.” Dick says, and Marinette’s eyes widen. There were a lot more people in her bio dad’s family than she thought. She knew about the boys, but she hadn’t seen anything about Cass, Steph or ‘Babs’.

“I didn’t realize I had sisters too.” She says instead of voicing her insecurities. Before she only had the boys to measure up against, now she had three girls too?

“Well, the only official sister is Cass. Steph used to date Tim and she just kinda stuck around. She’s practically family at this point. And Babs and I used to date, but again, she stuck around after and now she’s practically family.” Dick explains with a grin and a shrug. Cause having your exes around isn’t awkward. Or, maybe it isn’t. She doesn’t have any exes to compare it to. Just as she starts to get lost in her thoughts, she feels Adrien brush against her gently. Reminding her that he’s there, for her, giving her the strength she needs to follow Dick into the living room. Where everyone else was sitting. Oh boy.

“Marinette, so glad you could join us. And Mr. Agreste, nice to see you again.” Bruce says, standing from his spot and moving to shake Adrien’s hand.

“You as well, M. Wayne. And please, call me Adrien. Mr. Agreste is my father.” He says, and Marinette can just barely see his wince. His father always had been his least favorite subject, no matter how much or how little they spoke of him.

“Thanks for inviting us.” Marinette says, moving the package so that she’s no longer clutching it like a lifeline. Holding it out to Mr. Wayne, she laughs at his confused face. “It’s a present.” She adds.

“Oh, well, thank you.” He says, his face unreadable. Marinette shifts her weight, glancing between him and the package, waiting for him to open it. Or properly introduce her to the rest of the family. Either option would work at this point. Glancing at Dick, she sighs in relief when he claps. At least someone was going to make the first move.

“Right, so I don’t think you got the chance to meet Jason and Damian properly when you were here the other day.” Dick says, tugging her around a still frozen Bruce in front of the two boys from the other day.

“No, I didn’t. Hi, I’m Marinette.” She says, smiling and holding out a hand to Damian first. He tuts and turns away, making Marinette’s smile fall slightly before she turns to Jason. Jason grins and shakes her hand.

“Welcome to the family, kid.” He says, before whistling. “You didn’t get B’s height, that’s for sure.” He teases, Marinette snorts, her smile turning into a teasing smirk.

“Hey, don’t count me out for my height. Ever heard the phrase, small but mighty?” She asks, crossing her arms. Jason snorts, reaching out and messing up her hair.

“Whatever you say, Pixie Pop.” He replies. She rolls her eyes and turns to the other two siblings she hadn’t met.

“Hi, you must be Tim and Cass.” She says, smiling at both of them. Tim nods, his hand twitching towards his pocket. Marinette tries not to laugh, having seen Max do the same thing when he had to socialize for any amount of time. The boy was always far more comfortable with his phone in his hand, even if he wasn’t actually looking at it. Cass smiles, and Marinette notices her hands moving. “Sorry, could you repeat that, I wasn’t watching closely.” She says. Cass’ smile widens and she nods before starting over.

“Welcome to family. Nice to meet you.” Cass signs, making Marinette beam.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She says, eyes widening when she realizes she left Adrien alone with a frozen Mr. Wayne. Whirling around, she moved back to Adrien and tugged him forward, rolling her eyes at his surprised yelp. Honestly, he should expect this by now.

“Geeze, Princess. Give a man a warning.” He says, adjusting his shirt that she’d accidentally messed up.

“Sorry k- Adrien. Sorry. Anyway, uh, everyone this is my friend Adrien Agreste. Adrien this is Jason, Damian, Tim, Cass and you already know Dick.” Marinette introduces, gesturing to each of her new siblings. Adrien shoots a wide smile, not quite his model smile but also not quite a real one.

“Nice to meet you all.” He says.

“Marinette, I apologize. Did you want me to open this now?” Mr. Wayne asks suddenly. She turns and raises an eyebrow at his unreadable expression and the way he holds onto the present like he doesn’t know what to expect. Which is fair, considering they’d only met in person the day before.

“Oh, um, if you want to. It’s nothing big.” She says, watching nervously as he nods and unwraps it. His eyebrows twitch together as he looks at the book, obviously not yet understanding.

“Open it, B.” Dick whispers, clearly understanding the gift more than their father. Mr. Wayne nods and opens it, his unreadable expression falling into one that she...still can’t read. But it’s not emotionless anymore. As he flips through the book, a small smile creeps its way onto his face and Marinette almost cheers. That’s the most sincere look she’d ever seen on the man.

“Did you put all this together?” He asks, glancing up from the book to look at her. Marinette nods.

“When I found out I was adopted, I wanted to have something to give my bio dad. So that even if he didn’t want to see me in person, he could get to know me. When I found out you’re my, um, dad, I added some personal touches.” She says.

“And I can keep this?” He asks, and Marinette’s shocked that he sounds almost scared. As if he thinks she’ll say no and take everything back. She smiles.

“Of course. My Maman and Papa already have those pictures. These are all yours.” She says.

“Thank you, Marinette. I- This is an amazing gift.” He says. Marinette’s smile widens and her shoulders sag in relief. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[bbrissonn]

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʟᴇᴀᴜ

info: y’all remember when I said lookalike was my fav one, i changed my mind. this is 100% my favourite one so far. and y’all don’t understand how badly i wanna make like little blurbs about cute moments they had together when they were dating and make a part 2...

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :)

reminder: this is fictional

pairing: thomas bordeleau x aurora carrero (my oc)

wc: 1.8k (including the lyrics)

bold italic are lyrics

au masterlist

that wasn’t funny but she laughed so hard, she almost cried

they’re counting months they’ve been together, almost 49

he’s making fun of how she acted ‘round the holidays

she wears a ring but they tell people that they’re not engaged

Thomas and some of his teammates had decided to get a cup of coffee at a café near Yost arena before going to practice. Christmas had passed and all of the hockey boys had returned back to Michigan after spending a couple of days home. He had left after their last practice before the holiday break, the same day Aurora had arrived home from Harvard. 

She had come with her new boyfriend, Tyler, to introduce him to her family and closest friends. Which led to her sitting in the same exact coffee shop that Thomas and his friends had walked into. Tyler was sitting next to her, with an arm around her shoulder, as she caught up with her high school friends and they got to know the boy. 

Aurora and Tyler had started dating almost a year ago, they met at school and when she came back from the holiday break the previous year, he finally asked her out. The brunette girl had told herself that she’d be waiting a little while before getting into another relationship, after her last relationship had ended pretty badly,  but that plan was quickly ruined by a boy in her class.

The French-American boy and his friends were waiting in line when he heard someone laugh, now there were plenty of people in the small building, but he’d recognized that laugh anywhere. He turned his head to look in the direction of the noise, when his eyes fell on her. 

She hadn’t changed much, but her hair was longer, and she had this big smile on her face as she looked at the boy next to her. A smile she once had because of something he would say, but that was almost a year and a half ago. His eyes stayed on her for a little longer before he got pulled out of this trance by one of his friends.

“Dude, move forwards.” Matty said as the line moved forward, Thomas did, but kept his eyes on the girl. The Beniers boy was quick to realize that his friend was focused on something, or rather someone. His eyes looked in the same direction as Thomas’ and he soon understood why he was distracted. Only, Matty hadn’t been the only one to follow his friend’s. 

“Who’s that girl?” One of the other boys asked. 

“Bords’ ex, Aurora.” The Beniers boy answered for his friends, and soon, the whole team knew about the girl’s existence and their history together.

they met in class for metaphysical philosophy

he tells his friend, “i like her ‘cause she’s so much smarter than me”

they’re having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m.

and i’m happy for them (and i’m happy for them)

A couple of days later, the hockey team found themselves at a party, which wasn’t something rare. But this one was different for a certain French boy on the team, since the first thing he saw when the boys walked into the house was Aurora and her boyfriend. He tried his hardest to ignore them, but when they walked into the kitchen while he was getting himself something to drink, that task soon failed. 

“Thomas?” The girl asked, making the boy freeze on the spot. His back was facing where they came in from, but yet Aurora could easily recognize him. He turned around slowly and smiled at the girl when their eyes met.

“Hey.” He answered in a low voice, he tried not to get too intimidated by the guy standing next to her, who was easily 3-5 inches taller than him. Aurora handed her cup to her boyfriend and walked over to her ex boyfriend, bringing him in a hug. 

“How you been? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever.” She spoke as the boy wrapped his arm around her waist. He hadn’t talked to her or even touched her since the day they broke up. They had made a mutual decision of breaking up, and promised the other they’d keep in contact; only as school started and Thomas’ hockey season as well, that promise was soon forgotten by both parties. 

“I’ve been good. How ‘bout you?” He answered as the girl pulled away from him, but she was still standing in front of him. Her eyes looked him up and down as she realized just how much he had changed. His hair was longer, his style had changed and he had tattoos. The girl was soon brought out of the trance by a cough coming from behind her, making her jump a bit. An arm soon wrapped itself around her waist. 

“Right, Tommy, this is Tyler. Tyler, this is Tommy, but most people call him Bords.” Aurora said with a small smile on her face. She hadn’t thought about the two boy meeting, and she could feel the tension in the air. She could sense that her boyfriend was jealous of how she had hugged the other boy; and she could sense that Thomas felt awkward. 

“Well, I’m gonna go see the girls, you two can get to know each other.” The girl quickly said before leaving the two boys alone. It was quiet for a bit before Thomas asked Tyler a question, one he quickly regretted. 

“So, you and Auror, is it something like really serious?” He said using the nickname he had given the girl. It was sort of an inside joke between the two of them, they were watching Harry Potter on their second date and the girl had said she’d love to be an Auror if she could.

“Her name’s Aurora–”

“I’ve been calling her Auror for almost 2 years, I think if she had a problem with it she would’ve told me.” Thomas was quick to cut the other boy off.

“Whatever. We’ve been dating for almost a year and I got her a promise ring. Why’d you wanna know?” I gave her a promise ring too. Thomas thought to himself, and it hurt him a lot when he heard those words. His feelings for the girl had never gone away and probably never will. So hearing that the two were already at that point in their relationship, hurt more than any time he’d ever been hit on the ice.

but i wanna feel all that love and emotion

be that attached to the person i’m holding

someday, i’ll be falling without caution

but for now, i’m only people watching

For the next week, The Bordeleau kid kept seeing his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend everywhere he went. Around campus, shops near the school, but the worst place was at his hockey game. His jaw dropped a bit when he saw her in the stand during warm ups, she tucked under Tyler’s arm as she talked to her friends. 

He kept his eyes on her for a bit, watching as they kissed and whispered in each other's ear before laughing. He always loved when Aurora would come to his games, but seeing her here with him felt like a punch in the guts.

To say that he played like shit that night would be an understatement, and surely all of his friends noticed.

but i cut people out like tags on my clothing

i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

As the months went on, Thomas slowly started to distance himself from the group. All the guys noticed this too, but none of them were brave enough to ask him questions, although the NTDP boys already had an idea of why he was acting this way. 

When the spring formal came around, most of the guys on the team had dates, either being someone they were seeing or their girlfriends. The ones who arrived alone were certainly not leaving alone. There were a couple of exceptions, like Kent, who was still hooked up on the same girl. Nolan, whose reputation was still fragile. Briss trying to fix things between him and his recent ex-girlfriend, Brianna. And finally, Blanks and his girlfriend, Saige, going through a rough path.

The five of them ended up in a corner as they watched their freshmen teammates interact with their long term girlfriends. 

“Men, how are they like 5 years younger than us but they’ve had good relationships for years.” Nolan asked the captain as he watched Luke and Osha dancing together. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy, dude.” Briss answered with a laugh as he took a sip of his drink. 

“Dude, you aren’t any better. You got dumped for drinking too much and you’re standing here drinking.” Blanks was quick to hit back at the younger boy, making him roll his eyes. 

“What I meant to say is that you shouldn’t be asking any of us. These two are always daydreaming of girl’s who have boyfriends. Look at them right now, they aren’t even listening.” The Brisson boy pointed at Kent and Thomas. Kent’s eyes then shifted from Allison and her boyfriend to the three boys standing in front of him. 

“Just because I’m not looking at you doesn’t mean I’m not listening.” He spoke quietly before his eyes focused back on the blond girl. Thomas, him, didn’t move at all. The Brisson boy was right, he spent his time thinking about Aurora. What she could possibly be doing at the moment, who she was with, and what they could be doing if she was here, in Michigan with him.

cut people out like tags on my clothing

i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

i won’t be scared to let someone know me

life feels so monotone but i still keep hoping

cut people out like tags on my clothing

i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

i won’t be scared to let someone know me

life feels so monotone but i still keep hoping

All of that changed when Thomas walked into his first class of economics for the last semester of the year. To say he was shocked to see the Carrero girl sitting in the one if the seats would be an understatement. He almost dropped the coffee that he was holding, but he luckily didn’t as he saw the girl waved at him and gestured for him to come see her. 

He didn’t ask why she was here, why she transferred. But he noticed a lot of things. She seemed a little sad, her smile wasn’t as big as it was when they saw each other during the holidays. But there was one big change that he was insanely quick to notice.

Her ring was gone.