#while knowing I am emotionally unable to return that in the same way

[shiftyarchfey]

I‘ve been feeling a bit lonely recently, I suppose.

The weird mix of knowing I am not good to be in a relationship with somebody, feeling like I can never properly express my feelings, the knowledge that I am aromantic and all of this combined with my relationship experience… I want to be loved, I guess but it is not fair because I cannot fully love back the same way I want to be loved. It’s not fair to expect a person to give so much effort into a relationship where their romantic needs cannot be reciprocated.

Yet, I am jealous of those who can be in a relationship, who feel romantic love and who have a person or persons they can feel loved and accepted by. Idk if I just haven’t found „my person/persons“ yet, if I ever will or if this is just something I have to accept and move on from. I have people who love me, I am aware and it has been a journey to even accept that as a possibility (like the fact that even if I have a problem liking myself, people actually want to be in my company and have a good time? Wild lmao).

Yet idk, I am just. Lonely.

[greeneyessmize]

Today's thoughts are of the youth of Penelope & Colin and how it affects their relationship, specifically: how they fight.

Penelope is maybe 20 at most. Colin is perhaps 23.

They are also a part of the upper class. This allows them essentially a longer childhood in some ways for the era. They are emotionally pretty on par with a somewhat shy and sheltered 18 year old today who has never had a relationship and a 20 year old college kid who was also a bit hiddenly shy but has dated around a bit.

This means that neither of them have ever had to compromise on a larger, but intimate, and more important scale.

They don't know how to fight from a place of common goal. This is what they have to learn together.

I am going into detail with how this affects multiple scenes, so here is a cut for everyone. :)

Pen & Colin only know fighting with siblings, parents, friends, and enemies. So they know fight against, not fight for.

Penelope specifically only knows how to fight by false retreat and full opposition.

Her false retreat is seen most clearly in her use of Lady Whistledown. This is where she cocoons herself outwardly but lets her anger fly using precisely cloaked arrows. Her LW comments on Colin's fakeness upon his return to Mayfair showed a lethal strike.

Her full opposition fights are seen in her arguments with Eloise, both over her yelling that yes she does want to be married some day and then when Eloise confronted her about being LW, and then in her fights with Colin over LW.

When she and Colin fight in the middle of the street the night before their wedding, Pen goes full opposition, even going up on the high step to put her on the same level as Colin as much as possible. She does not retreat, she does not shrink. She goes conflict blow to conflict blow with him. She apologizes but does not bend or break. There is no compromise to be found because they are fighting against, not for. As one raises their voice, the other matches. There will not be a winner, but they don't know that.

Colin's fighting styles are either full shutdown, or like Pen, full opposition.

His full opposition fight with Pen in the middle of the street shows that he also will not back down. Each thing Pen says, he counters until she loudly declares the one thing he can't refute: that she loves him.

You also see that he is unwilling to compromise in his full shutdowns. He won't even try to talk to Pen after they are married during the nights and mornings where he places himself on the settee. He doesn't know how to say what he desperately needs to express to her in any constructive way. So. He stays on the settee, as close as he can to Pen, but unable to engage with her.

When she tries to engage with him, like at the review of the wedding breakfast planning, and it is she who makes the majority of the attempts, Colin still only knows how to go full opposition and/or full shutdown. Pen tries to answer him honestly when he asks if she will end LW because she really doesn't know. But since he can't give her grace to understand her on this... It only leads to more teary eyes and more distance.

On their wedding day, their tenuous truce after the middle of the street argument is broken in their fight after the Queen's threats. Here we see Penelope go full opposition and proclaim clearly and for the first time that she is Whistledown. And then Colin ultimately reacts with full shutdown, saying he will sleep on the sofa/settee.

The morning after their wedding, Colin is teary-eyed, taking tea fully dressed on the settee where he clearly spent the night. He leaves Penelope abruptly while she is still undressed for the day, intending to leave her out of his plans for the day. He definitely saw she was upset by this. I do wonder if that gave him a bit of dark satisfaction.

When Penelope comes to Bridgerton House to inform Colin of Cressida's blackmailing, Penelope gives way when Colin focuses his full opposition towards Cressida instead of her. Granted it takes a few times of being ignored, but she doesn't yell and ultimately lets it go. You can see that it hurts her to let Colin disregard her wishes, but she still ultimately allows it until he messes it all up. In this debacle they both learned to step back from full opposition between each other.

Penelope realized that even when it does not end well, sometimes she must let Colin have his way. Colin realized that not listening to Pen is where mistakes are made. Neither of them are yelling anymore.

Then comes the day of Francesca and John's wedding. It's not until she doesn't give him the reaction he thinks he wants that morning, as he is forlornly laying on the settee... that we see a shift. She does not react with regret or sadness or pain or anger. Pen is calm, cool, collected. She says she will spare him the confined shared carriage to Bridgerton House. She breezes out of his reach while he is still processing this new development.

Colin takes an important step by going to reread all of Penelope's letters. This is something he did not do in anger. He did this so he could gain perspective. This is his realization that full shutdown is ineffective and is not doing anything he wants or needs.

Penelope also is taking a step forward. She recognizes that false retreat and cloaked attacks are only increasing her own damage. She appeals to Colin with earnestness and honesty after the wedding of Francesca & John. She and he both refrain from moving into full opposition fighting this time. They are listening to each other. Colin asks what Penelope needs from him. She answers with everything he has needed to hear. He tells her what he needs, she listens. They are looking at a common goal. She moves forward with her plan to confess to the queen.

Then after her confession to the Ton at the Butterfly Ball, Penelope does the one thing for Colin that she can think of to heal the wounds of their fighting: she offers to let him go.

This is not something either of them ever wanted. But Penelope offers it because she truly feels, that with their very little communication through this, that Colin must want freedom from her. She cannot see through the pain they have inflicted on one another.

Colin immediately recognizes that now is the moment he must say everything in his heart. He has a moment of panic, of potential loss. Through everything he has always wanted and loved Penelope. He just had no idea how to show it while he was also angry. But now he has let go of his anger, and he will deal with it better should it happen that he is angry again.

Colin does what he needs to most. He tells her everything he is feeling. They are honest with each other. They have their common goal. They won the fights together.

[riagraie]

How Lloyd's Imprinting Works

FINALLYYY i'm explaining this. i realized the other day i never explained how this worked in my AU. So, I'll be explaining the ins and outs of Imprinting for Ninjago's resident Dragon-Oni boy.

shouldn't be any spoiler warnings. this does contain OC content as well as xOC content. and note: this is all from my AU. there is very mild suggestive topics, but its just about spicy neck kisses. read at your own risk

hope you enjoy! :D

Imprinting

First of all, I thought I'd explain what the "imprinting" I mentioned in my post about Hanna and Lloyd's relationship stages breakdown means. Am I using a Twilight term? yes. only because I can't figure out a better word for it. plus i just like the way it fits.

Imprinting, for Lloyd, is similar to what happens in Twilight. For explanations sake, in Twilight it's explained Imprinting is when a werewolf forms a bond with a different person. In Twilight, there are no real limits on it. For example, Jake imprinted on Bella and Edwards daughter when she was an infant while Jake's alpha Sam imprinted with an adult.

Also in Twilight, imprinting doesn't really mean a romantic connection has to be present. Rather, just understanding the other on a deeper level. Or smth like that.

Imprinting is a trait present in both Oni and Dragons, its what connects the very different species. Of course, the species are different. Like Harmonizers, both Dragons and Oni also mate for life.

But unlike Harmonizers, Dragons and Oni can have a romantic or physical attraction to another being before meeting the person they will mate for life with. For Lloyd, this meant he had the genuine attraction romantically and physically to Harumi before even knowing Hanna existed.

Hanna, did not. She could think "hm, they're attractive" and go on dates, but she wouldn't have been able to connect with them because of the Soul Lock phenomenon. Lloyd can have that genuine connection with someone.

When Lloyd imprints, he is also, in a way, locking his Soul onto Hanna's. But, not in the same sense. For Lloyd, it is like he is instead giving Hanna a part of her soul in turn for a part of hers. It's like a trade. Also for Lloyd, imprinting is romantic. Its basically Lloyd saying "hey, im in love with you, ill give you my heart and part of my soul in turn for your heart and part of your soul to hold onto."

But, it takes specific things for Lloyd to imprint on someone, specific "boxes" have to be checked for it to happen. When I say boxes, I mean things that happen in Lloyd's unconscious, things he isn't actively aware of happening.

Back to Dragons and Oni, the instances of when they imprint are pretty different. Plus, what part of them is given/taken.

Dragons

They are a very loyal and emotionally available species, they are communicative and trusting with each other. The reason this species is so strong is because it relies on one another. Dragons are the definition of "it takes a village". This is because Dragons tend to live in bigger "packs" or families with around 15-25 dragons per pack.

For Dragons to imprint, the being they are interested in has to show loyalty through thick and thin. For example, if a dragon and it's partner had a fight, this box might be ticked if the partner returns or continues to support and be there for the dragon.

Dragons also have to see their partner become well incorporated with it's family or pack. As an example, if a partner is accepted and becomes beloved by the dragon's family/pack, then the box would be ticked.

When a Dragon Imprints, they give their heart to their partner and in turn, take the heart of their partner. Meaning, both are unable to feel romantic attraction to anyone else while Imprinted onto another. This phenomenon is called A Bond of Devotion. I'll talk more about it later.

This means, in the instance of a dragon's partner dying, their heart will return and they will keep their partners heart. The dragon can then choose to try and find a new mate if they wish to.

Oni

This species are very goal oriented and have a lot of things based on strength. Oni are also very honest creatures and protective. The reason this species is strong is because they understand one another on a strength level and an emotional level. They are able to do this because they coexist within much smaller groups, around 5-10 families(around 3-5 Oni) groups.

For Oni to imprint, the being they have interest in must show they can keep up with the Oni. For example, many Oni get this box checked by having sparing matches or tests of strength. If the partner is able to hold their own or even defeat the Oni, the box gets checked.

Another thing that has to happen is the Oni has to see their partner open up to them. Share the deepest parts of who they are, hopes, dreams, worst fears, greatest nightmares, etc. But, it has to go both ways. An Oni has to see the partner open up but the Oni must also be able to open up to the partner. If an Oni is able to see this in some way with their partner the box is getting checked.

Finally, the Oni must also see their partner trust in the Oni and be able to trust the partner. Not just with secrets and things, but with their emotions and with their physical well being. For example, if the Oni and it's partner were in a pickle and the Oni got harmed, the box would be checked if the partner comes to the aid of the Oni instead of running.

Oni, unlike dragons, are soul based. When an Oni imprints, they give part of their soul to their partner and take part of their partners soul. This creates a deeper than deep connection between the Oni and their partner. This phenomenon is called a Nexus. I'll talk more about it later.

If the partner dies, it leaves the Oni without part of their soul and makes them unable to imprint onto another person.

Because Lloyd is both Dragon and Oni, he experiences everything. The boxes his partners have to check before he imprints are based on: Loyalty, incorporation with family, strength, openness, and trust. He also has the thing with his heart, giving Hanna his and taking hers. Plus the giving her part of his soul and taking part of hers. But, since she's a Harmonizer, it works a bit differently.

Hanna for one, isn't able to feel romantic or physical attraction to anyone but Lloyd. Lloyd isn't able to feel romantic attraction to anyone but Hanna and has a hard time feeling physical attraction to anyone but her. He will also create A Bond of Devotion and a Nexus with Hanna.

Since her soul is already intertwined with Lloyd's because of the Soul Lock, the impacts of both the Bond of Devotion and the Nexus Lloyd creates with Hanna is that much more. But, what does that mean?

A Bond of Devotion

Usually existing between a dragon and the dragons partner, it is the technical term of what occurs when a dragon imprints. It is in a literal sense, the dragon taking the heart of the partner. This means the partner is unable to feel romantic attraction to anyone but the dragon. The same happens with the dragon, the partner takes their heart and prevents romantic attraction to anyone but the partner.

The effects of A Bond of Devotion are pretty cool. If focused on, either side of a relationship is able to feel what the other is feeling to a degree. For example, if the partner is feeling sad, the dragon can focus on the Bond to find out the partner is sad since they would feel sad.

The level of the main emotion the person peering through the Bond will get exposed to is about half of what the other is feeling. So if the partner is REALLY sad, say a 10/10 sad moment, the dragon would feel sadness on a 5/10 scale.

If the couple is separated for whatever reason, the Bond can have "flares" where the dragon side of the couple(unless it is between two dragons) will feel what the other is feeling quite strongly for brief minutes through the day. The longer they are separated, the worse these flares get until they die down.

The intensity and frequency of the flares also depends on the freshness of the Bond. If it is a fresh imprint, the dragon will have more flares and they will be stronger. But, they will die down and be less frequent but begin to vary in strength.

Once reunited, the Bond will flare but only in the sense of the dragon will feel an intense need to remain close to the partner since they feel anxiety when separated again until the Bond feels the couple has made up for lost time.

Nexus

A Nexus, for Oni, is the technical term for when an Oni imprints. It is also the name of the phenomenon where an Oni and their partner give one another part of their soul. This leads both sides to be unable to have romantic interest with another and makes it near impossible to feel physical attraction for anyone but the partner.

Like with a Bond of Devotion, the Nexus also leads to the couple having a deeper connection. This connection goes as deep as dreams. If specifically attempted for, an Oni and their partner can meet in the land of dreams because of their connection with one another's souls.

But, in order for this to happen, the other side has to be accepting of it. They will feel a kind of buzz almost in their nerves and that's how they can tell the Oni side is attempting to make connection through dreams. This is especially helpful for couples who have to separate since an Oni, if separated from their partner too long, begins to feel ill.

Since their soul is with their partner, an Oni will try it's best to always be near it's partner. But, if the couple has to separate, the Oni, over time, will begin to have flu like symptoms that get worse the longer the couple is separated. These symptoms can be negated with dream connections but like I said before, both sides have to be open to it.

If the couple is separated long enough, the symptoms will begin to subside but will flare up randomly and be more intense each time.

Like with dragons, once Oni reunite with whomever they are imprinted with, they will be glued to their side. Oni will be extra affectionate and will want to be within the same room as their partner for as long as it takes the Nexus to stop flaring.

Poor Lloyd has these things too and Hanna doesn't mind it at all. Lloyd's love language is physical touch anyways, so she doesn't think twice.

Again because of the Soul Lock on Hanna's part, she too can initiate dreams with Lloyd even though she isn't part Oni. It has the same parameters, Lloyd has to accept the dream in order for it to work.

Oni and Dragons also have different ways of 'marking their territory'. Both species are very proud when they have a special someone and thus have instinctual things they do to show off their partner. Lloyd, like everything else, does these things as well, often unconsciously until Hanna points it out and bullies him (lightly teases) him about it.

Dragons - They show off via smell. This is because dragons have a heightened sense of smell and they know everyone has a different scent. Thus, they do their best to make sure their partner smells like them and/or like their family. - They show off through gifts. Dragons like giving their partners different things they can wear. Actual dragons will make little gems for the other dragon to display. Lloyd does it through jewelry and things like that. - Finally, they show off through public display of affection or PDA. Dragons love to show off how they get to be physically close with their partner. Literal dragons do it through public cuddling or licking one another's snouts. Lloyd does it through holding Hanna's hand, hand around her waist, random hugs, and spontaneous kisses.

Oni - They show off via the feel of their power. Oni are able to sense one another through what their powers feel like. To show it off, they will often cautiously expose their partner to their powers through things like sparing or something like that. Lloyd does it through mingling his and Hanna's powers since they do that lol. - They show off through clothing. Oni have a specific way they dress, similar to how all the ninja wear GI. Oni will give their partner a piece of their outfit to wear like a shoulder pad or emblem or something like that. Lloyd does this through letting Hanna wear his clothes and making her GI sometimes identical to his but different colors. - Finally, Oni show off through literal markings. Oni will bite their partners and leave literal bite marks across their body to show that they are the other side of the Nexus, most marks appear on the neck. Lloyd does this through hickeys. That's it lol.

So yeahhhh. Basically, Hanna and Lloyd are two peas in a pod in how complicated their love lives are because of just straight up genetic factors neither can control.

i'll be posting some more headcanons for the ninja soon because i cannot get the pajama people out of my head. ofc it'll include Hanna.

send me asks about anything in this post and I'll answer the best I can, I love getting them!

[harri-etvane]

The Angst sentence starters.

Because I obviously like to torture myself with your brilliant Angst writing and hey, I haven't cried and screamed at things in a while :)

Volena (because why not break my heart)

"I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you."

(If this sparks no inspiration I will also be happy with "Please, speak to me.", "I am just so tired." or "You can't leave me alone.")

(And if you feel super inspired ... all four?!? 🥺👉👈)

(No pressure and no hurry though. I need time to emotionally prepare myself.)

Hey Jam! - thanks for sending these, they were a good exercise for me to stretch my angst muscles. I'm sorry they took so long!

I've written about 300 words for each of them, apart from "I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you." which didn't spark any inspiration in me at the moment. I'll keep it in my WIP doc of doom though, and if anything comes to mind; I'll post!

As there's nearly 900ish words, I'll pop them just below the cut. There's no over-arching narrative (or there could be if you squint at it really hard) and apologies - one of them ended up a bit similar to some bits and pieces I wrote for Early Though the Laurel Grows.

Anyway - I hope you like them; I'm excited to hear your thoughts! If you'd like a continuation of any of them, let me know! xxx

"Please, speak to me."

She's said it hundreds of times, or it feels that way at least, longing more than anything to hear the rough, gravelly cadence of his voice, feel the press of his hand against hers, the scratch of his beard against her cheek - even just the slow opening of his eyes, the familiar dark brown sparked with recognition, affection even.

She'd give anything for that sight - everything, even.

It comes out as a whisper this time, her voice hoarse.

“Please.”

Just the echoing silence instead - her own heartbeat thumping in her ears, so quiet she can almost hear the rush of blood through her veins. His breathing is slow and unsteady, every inhale leaving them both balanced on a precipice until the flimsy, weak exhale in response somehow manages to pull them both back from the edge, an awful, endless waltz. 

She takes his hand in both of hers and lifts it, pressing her lips to his knuckles; trying not to think of how cold his skin is, at odds with the thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the bright red of fever staining his cheeks. Olena shifts her grip a little, holding on as tightly as she dares, his fingers limp in her grasp and without thinking, her fingertips find the cool metal of his wedding ring for the security it has always represented. She realises it is loose suddenly, his fingers thin, and that alone feels like another wound.

His badly-won rest is not entirely peaceful, eyelids flickering; even in unconsciousness, dragged there forcibly by the pneumonia that stalks his weary bones, his face is hollow and wan, the frown on his forehead unmoving. The sickening lurch of helplessness slides into her gut and sits there like an unwelcome friend, an enemy - she cannot take the weight from him even now; so utterly drained and exhausted, unable to find peace.

Despite her pleas, he remains near silent save for every laboured breath, pulled away on a tide she has no hope of following - so she must stay on the shore and wait for him to return.

________

"I am just so tired." 

She’s never heard him sound like this before; flat, dull - listless. He sits beside her, the long shadows in the room throwing his face into darkness as the light changes. The afternoon sun is dreary and faded, dragging the colour from the room, from him. Olena feels, just for a moment, as though she has never been further away from her husband, despite being so close.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

She pulls him towards her until he rests against her side, the weight of him familiar but just this once, it doesn't bring the same ordinary comfort. The dull weight of concern sits firmly in her chest instead as she watches his gaze move back to his desk, to the phone, his laptop, the endless reams of paper, unable to let himself truly set it aside, even just for this moment. She can feel the shadow of his ribs, the knots of his spine beneath the thick, black sweatshirt, more prominent than they were before and the concern sharpens. Gently, she places a hand on his cheek, the grey of his beard soft beneath her fingertips.

“Love?”

He turns to look at her fully then as her hand drops to his chest, his heart fluttering unevenly beneath her palm. It seems to have happened very suddenly - almost without her noticing; he looks old.

“I- oh, Lena. I'm-”

For the first time in such a long while, he struggles for words.

In the end, his voice is quiet.

“I ache.”

She nods silently, suddenly unable to speak, confronted with the painful weight of it all; this shattering glimpse of something so very raw, an unhealed wound that has nestled into the very heart of him. 

“I know.”

________

"You can't leave me alone."

The accusatory plea comes choked through a sob, ripped out of the deepest part of her, laid entirely bare here, in this one, lonely room. She tips her gaze to the ceiling - the ornate plasterwork, the gold - all of it blurred.

“You can't. You promised. You promised me the Carpathian mountains. You said–”

He'd said so many things, over the years, conjured so many ideas of what their life would look like afterward - hoped for something quiet and slow. He'd done it to comfort her, and often, himself - desperate to hold on to a future beyond the pain, beyond just living for each day, grateful for every sunrise and sunset. He'd murmured about their future during slow lunches over his desk and snatched seconds together, tentatively sketching it in broad strokes; fishing, walking, talking - space just to be. He'd talked about growing a garden, watching the seasons change and blossom with the sunlight, planting trees - cultivating something just for the beauty of it. She had listened to his plans, her hand in his and smiled - at his optimism, his determination, the knowledge that he would be by her side, through all things. She knew then that whatever happened, so long as he was with her - everything would be fine.

There had never been any question of them being apart.

Her solitude is shattered by the door swinging open, bringing with it a deeper silence, the familiar tread of combat boots and then a pause. She knows who it is without turning around. She knows why he is here. She feels Maksym behind her, his hand on her shoulder for the briefest moment. If she doesn't turn around, if she doesn't take another step; her world will not change - she will not have to go on, alone.

“Not yet. Maks. Not yet. Just, a little longer.”

“Olena Volodymyrivna.. I'm so sorry. It's time..”

[sheiskindasweet]

Hey, could I possibly ask your advice on a situation I’m in right now, please?

Me and my friend who’s also my coworker have been friends for around 2 years now, we used to go out a lot together after work and we used to be close. She was there for me through my hardest times and I tried my best to be there for her.

I went into hospital for 6 months and she visited me a lot, and then in June this year I returned to work part-time. I feel like it hasn’t been the same as before I went into hospital, and every time I have tried to talk to her about this, she dismisses me.

I tried to make plans for us to go out to celebrate her birthday in August, she cancelled on me last minute and told me we’d reschedule, but every time I tried she had an excuse. The past 1-2 months I’ve asked her if we could go out for dinner sometime around 5 times, she says we’ll arrange it but never speaks of it again.

She knows I’m going through a very tough time right now with my mental health and watched me have my worst ever panic attack at work last week - I have since been off of work. The old her would have texted me to check I was okay etc, but nothing.

I feel like she hates me, and it is all I can think about. I am tired of trying to talk to her about it because it gets no where, she denies it all. I miss my friendship with her, I miss her. I don’t know what I have done or what has happened, and she won’t tell me. I think about it 24/7, watch my phone waiting for her to message me. It’s pathetic.

I wanted to ask your advice on what I should maybe do, please? And how I can begin to distance myself away from the situation? It sounds silly but like how do I distance myself? How do I begin to accept that she no longer wants to be my friend?

I’m so hurt.

This is a super challenging situation! Firstly it is okay to be upset and disappointed as the distance that has grown between you two. To me, this honestly sounds like a matter of capacity. Unfortunately, sometimes people are unable to show up for us in the ways we hope, as it is simply too much for them, emotionally, mentally or otherwise, to take on. This is not to say that it is not incredibly hurtful, but I honestly think you're friend may not have the room to give you what you need right now.

It is hard but I would try and shift your perspective to have some grace and understanding that while you may have done nothing wrong, taking this on may just not be within her means. Given the fact there has been time and distance, I would go as far as assuming you may not know everything that they are going through personally or what is happening with other friendships, relationships, health things etc in their own world.

Find someone, maybe a third party that's removed, like a counsellor, to speak to about not only your loss of friendship but the struggles you are going through currently. I would allow distance to naturally take its course and wait to see if they do reach out after some time has passed. Fill your time with other activities and things you enjoy so you're not monitoring and waiting for that text.

This very well may just be a season where the two are you are not as connected as you once had been, but I would not give up all hope that the connection can be re-established in time.

Wishing you the best <3

[disabled-queer-wave]

Caregiver Abuse/Neglect

I think people really don't understand the impact of the way they treat elderly and disabled people.

Every caregiver I have ever had (family/friend) who has spent time with me regularly over a period of a year and a half has abused me with regards to caregiving. This most often looks like neglect.

Examples of Caregiver Abuse that Might Surprise You

Making a big deal out of it every time you are asked for help, they need your help for something like they have knocked over a cup

Leaving the person you're watching in inaccessible conditions where they are unable to meet their own needs-stranding them

Becoming frustrated/angry when they cannot do a task that *you* deem they should be able to do but in fact, cannot

"Just wait another 15 minutes and then I'll get your pain medicine/water/food/help you go to the bathroom" - over and over again. Once is like, ok, but putting us off for hours is not

Give up looking for medicine when you can't easily find it

Purposefully creating difficulty to "challenge" them outside of a therapeutic setting or program

Incorrectly dosing medication

leaving abruptly/cancelling abruptly leaving the person stranded

refusing to return to the home to help in emergencies

treating them like a burden and emotionally putting them down

To the most recent "friend" who pulled this shit with me, I just don't know what to say to you. You knew that people have done all this shit to me and then you went and did the exact same thing. And because of my delayed processing, and autism, and just refusal to acknowledge that people that I love hurt me I let you do it. I didn't call you on it and I should have. But you told me that you know that you were neglecting me while you were doing it and continued to do it anyway. What am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to believe that queers are somehow doing community care and all this bullshit when I constantly see myself and other disabled people being left behind.

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday!! For DADWC "We made our choices" for the ever-enticing Nightmare!AU? Maybe for Thalia/Blackwall or Thalia & Solas?

HI GIN lmfao so this has been my oldest prompt for like awhile and I am finally filling it about a year and a half later haha omg. But thank you for it I have literally been thinking about it this entire time.

Solas is Ser Not Appearing in This Film, but Blackwall! He's around. Here's an emotionally charged convo between Thalia and Blackwall that's going in my next chapter, set after Thalia realizes he was listening to her bang Cullen in a tent. (Why am I like this?)

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2209

---

Some time later, Thalia returned to her tent, a bitter aftertaste lingering in her mouth. She felt a bit off-kilter, but relieved. Blackwall sat where she’d left him, his whetstone sliding along the edge of his blade in long, slow strokes. His eyes were on the fire. 

Irritation stirred in Thalia’s chest. “That must be the sharpest sword known to man by now.” 

His eyes snapped to her; his hand paused. Thalia felt a strange pang to behold him like this. Terrible memories churned in her mind: Blackwall’s sudden disappearance, his impassioned speech on the gallows in Val Royeaux, the way he’d looked at her through the bars of his cell. This is why I told you we couldn’t be together, he said, with perfect loathing, while her heart rent in two.

Thalia stood before him now, wringing the sash on her robe, waiting for him to speak. She should march past him and settle back into Cullen’s tent, because it was none of Blackwall’s damn business. But the sight of him before her was so much like seeing a ghost that she couldn’t quite manage it. 

“Did you get what you needed?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. The pockets of her robe were heavy with additional potions, but only one stuck in her mind now. 

She chewed her lip and, with a huff, sat on a log opposite him around the fire pit. She arranged herself as stately as she could: back straight, knees together, hands folded in her lap. She forced herself to look at Blackwall and not flinch. “There’s something I’d like to discuss, while we’re both awake.” 

Blackwall slowly sheathed the sword and put aside the scabbard. “I’m listening.” 

Thalia took a breath, held it, thinking over what Lautilde had told her. “I think I might have a way to stop the spread of red lyrium corruption.” 

His eyebrows shot upward. That wasn’t what he expected me to say, Thalia thought with some satisfaction. 

“How?” Blackwall asked. 

Thalia pulled out the philter and held it up for him to see. The bottle was oozing black, threaded through with the darkest violet in the firelight. “Vivienne was experimenting alchemically. Before I left her village, I… took the liberty of procuring a sample.” 

Blackwall stared impassively at the bottle, then back to Thalia. “Does it work?” 

Thalia swallowed. “She told me she and the townsfolk had success with the prototypes. I drank some as well. I don’t think she had a reason to lie.” About this, at least. 

Blackwall remained in stone-faced silence, considering this. “May I see?” 

Thalia stood and moved closer, holding out the bottle. When Blackwall reached for it, his fingers brushed hers, giving her a jolt. She swallowed hard, remembering the night he’d appeared in her quarters unannounced. Grabbing her. Kissing her. I had to see you. 

That had been her first kiss. 

Thalia snatched her hand away, sat back down and examined her fingernails. She’d tried hard to scrub the dirt out from under them while in the bath.

Blackwall inspected the potion with the same level of scrutiny he used when analyzing a battlefield. “I don’t suppose Vivienne is still able to make more of the stuff.”

“I… doubt it. Considering the state of things when we escaped.” Thalia had been trying not to think of whether Vivienne had lived or died, fighting the Red Templars. “I looked for a formula in her notes, but you know her. She always kept things close to the chest.” Thalia licked her lips and continued, “I spoke to Lautilde about it. She thinks it might be possible to reverse engineer the components, given a proper laboratory.” 

Blackwall snorted. “And where’s one of those?” 

“Larger keeps sometimes have them. Or a city.” 

“The closest city is Halamshiral.” His voice carried a note of disgust. 

Images flashed through her mind: the Winter Palace, in all its splendor. Flitting from one opulent room to the next, trying to unravel the series of clues regarding the attempt on Empress Celene’s life. Court intrigue at its finest: she remembered visiting Dorian out in the courtyard, the cool night breeze hitting their faces as the minstrel played on. Vivienne in the foyer, subtly mocking Thalia’s clumsy attempts at the Game. And rounding the corner to see Blackwall, in his formal finery, coldly shutting down a courtier who thought him familiar. Thalia had walked right by the man who stared Blackwall in the face and wondered about the beard. 

And I suspected nothing, she thought, feeling a little sick. Or maybe that was just the effects of the tea taking hold.

Cullen had been there too, of course. Handsome, concerned Cullen, still only a friend, though one who looked half a heartbeat away from tucking a stray hair from her face. Who spent the evening surrounded by lustful suitors of all genders, setting off her envy. Had that really only been months ago? It felt like a lifetime.  

“Is it safe?” Thalia asked now, with the eternal dark clouds swirling overhead. “I imagine Halamshiral is much changed from our last visit.” 

Blackwall grunted. “Nowhere is safe. You don’t know the half of it.” 

“Vivienne told me some things. That Empress Celene is dead and someone named Calpernia rules in her stead.”  Thalia combed her fingers together over one knee. “Is that true?”

“As far as I know. According to the Red Jennies, every major city in Orlais is in the hands of Corypheus’s forces. Venatori and Red Templars alike.” Blackwall slowly tilted the bottle this way and that, watching the thick liquid move around inside. “Calpernia is supposedly the most favored of all his generals. That’s why he granted her the Orlesian crown.” 

Thalia’s eyebrows shot upward. Would Samson agree? “Is she using Halamshiral as her seat of power?” 

Blackwall shook his head. “Val Royeaux.” 

Thalia let out a breath of relief. “Thank the Maker for small favors.” Security would be laxer there and in the surrounding areas. Perhaps infiltrating Halamshiral this purpose would be more plausible than it seemed. 

“If you could learn the components, what would you do with it?” 

“Replicate it, if I can.” Thalia smiled tightly. “Then at least maybe we’d have a fighting chance against Samson and his Red Templars.” 

Blackwall sighed, getting to his feet. He crossed the space between them and stood towering above her. He held out the bottle for her to take back. 

Thalia did not like sitting there, in his looming shadow. She shivered and popped to her feet, pulling the robe right across her chest, where Cullen had lain his head not even an hour ago. She took the philter and put it back in her pocket, unable to look him in the eye.

“What about the Commander?” Blackwall’s voice was low and gravely in her ear, almost an accusation.

She forced herself to turn her face toward his. She could just barely make out the chiseled lines of his face, the crooked nose, the long, immaculately groomed beard. Only his eyes shone in the dim light, that intense, unyielding grey. “What about him?” 

“You’d have to be blind not to see he’s been through the wringer. Seems you and he left out quite a bit at dinner.”

Thalia shut her eyes. Their account of past events had been truncated at best, outright deceptive at worst. But it had been evident Cullen didn’t trust Blackwall nor the entire gang of Red Jennies, and Thalia, improvising, had been careful to keep the details sparse. At least until they were rested enough to regain keener judgment. “It’s a long story. We’d planned to tell it tomorrow, at the war council meeting.” 

“Well, if you want to commandeer my men for a suicide mission in order to further your science experiment, I think I have a right to know now.” 

Anger boiled in her chest. “What makes you think you have a right to know anything? Sitting outside our tent, just — listening in, apparently—” 

“Wouldn’t’ve wasted two on you, if I’d known,” Blackwall shot back. 

“I can’t believe you’re admitting it,” Thalia said, horrified. 

Blackwall sneered. “Oh, you think I haven’t heard worse, my lady?” 

Thalia put her face in her hands. Don’t you dare cry; it will give him too much satisfaction. It was embarrassing enough to consider him a voyeur, but her argument with Cullen hung fresh in her mind. Could he have heard all of that as well? She wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered.

“Should’ve just told me,” Blackwall grumbled, moving back to his seat across from the fire.

“Was it ever any of your business?” Thalia asked. “After you pushed me away?”

Blackwall froze. She watched his broad shoulders tense, his gaze stray toward the smoldering fire. The embers burned down low. “We both made our choices. The Commander’s office was always in full view of the stables.” 

And she’d visited him first, before climbing the stone stairs to knock on Cullen’s office door. Even when all he had to offer her was silence, arms crossed, expression like marble. Thalia’s shoulders slumped. She sat down on the log, rubbing her forehead, too fatigued to continue whatever this absurd conversation was. Blackwall stood unmoving, staring into the flames. 

“I love him,” Thalia said, voice breaking. “And I thought I lost him. Twice now. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.” 

Blackwall said nothing. 

“I got that potion for him, but he doesn’t want to take it. Not if learning more about it can save lives.” She wasn’t sure why she was saying this, but the anguish that accompanied the words surprised her. “I’m so scared, Blackwall. Everyone says Templars exposed to the red lyrium will fall victim to it sooner than later. You want to know what happened to him? Samson happened. When we were in Skyhold, Samson wanted to break him. Left the red lyrium outside his cell, just out of reach. When I found him he was half-mad and covered in bruises. The things he did to try to reach the red lyrium… and then, in Vivienne’s village, they were so terrified of the stuff. They called the corruption the rot. Vivienne locked him in a cell for a week to see if he’d — change. And when he didn’t, she still decided it was a wise political move to hand him over to her subjects, to sacrifice to some imagined god, just for what he represented.” 

Thalia was panting by now, feeling shaky and nauseous. Blackwall turned slowly, watching her with his unknowable eyes. “So yes, I’d like to make that potion available to everyone I can. But I also want to make sure he’s safe from that terrible fate. I don’t know what Samson is capable of, but I know he won’t rest until he gets what he wants. And that can’t happen with Cullen in the way.” 

Blackwall’s brows furrowed, ever so slightly. “And what he wants is you.” 

Thalia swallowed and nodded. Tears pricking her eyes, she whispered, “Blackwall, I’ve made the worst mistake.” 

He stared, and she worried he would scowl or sneer or make a snide comment. But he simply moved to her side and sat, at a respectable enough distance. He leaned his forearms on his thighs and said, “Can’t be worse than the ones I’ve made.” 

Her heart leapt into her throat. She used to think, all too often, of a carriage trundling along a tree-lined road in rural Orlais, and the shadows in which a younger, clean-shaven Thom Rainier had skulked with his soldiers. But the months had blurred his sins into the background, almost unrecognizable. 

She was telling him, quite suddenly, of Samson, of the cat and mouse game that he was determined to play. Every detail she feared speak to Cullen poured from her mouth, from Samson’s look of fear on the balcony to the way he watched her in the clearing, with something akin to longing. And the cave, and the dress, and the blade she’d held to his neck, feeling the way he trembled beneath her. 

“And I couldn’t do it,” she lamented, wiping tears from her eyes. “He wanted me to. He wanted to die right there. All I’d had to do was stop resisting, and he would have shoved the dagger in his own throat.” 

She’d wrested the blade away instead, and scrambled off him, and run. Half expecting him to tackle her again, knock her unconscious, do who knew what. 

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t. 

“I don’t know what it means,” Thalia said helplessly. 

Blackwall was silent for a long time. When he spoke again, it was with a low, zealous fury. “It means we know the bastard’s weakness. And when he comes for you again — and he will, men like that can’t stop themselves — he will be that much easier to kill.” 

Thalia looked at him in alarm. “I just said that was something I wasn’t able to do.” 

 “With all due respect, my lady, you’ve got a kind heart filled with compassion.” Blackwall lifted his head to her, and she thought there might be the ghost of a smile hiding under his beard. “You ought to leave the killing to those of us most suited for it.” 

[feeldresearch]

New Season, Same Me (Kinda).

It’s officially a new season, and guess what? I have not been on Feeld at all. Not even a little swipe for sport. And considering how spicy last season got… this feels like a full-on plot twist.

Last week was my birthday (cue confetti and slow-motion entrance music), and as the soft, sensual, please-write-me-poetry-before-you-fuck-me Pisces that I am, I may or may not have expected a tiny bit more from my rotation. I know, I know—it’s irrational to expect thoughtful gestures from glorified sneaky links, but irrationality is part of my charm.

Let’s get into the birthday fumbles, shall we?

Mr. Romantic: A Red Flag Wrapped in Sweet Kisses & Oral Excellence

I woke up on my solar return to a text from Mr. Romantic that read:
“Happy Birthday Queen!”

...And that was it.
No flowers. No gift. Not even a damn emoji.

Sir. I know you're at the airport headed to Australia, but were you unable to squeeze out a full sentence or perhaps a well-placed heart? A plane ride doesn’t excuse emotional negligence.

Anyway, I haven’t heard from him since. Not a peep. And while he was truly an elite munch—like, A+ in oral finesse—I had to check myself. Do I really want to be out here catching feelings for a walking red flag who disappears faster than my lashes after a long night?

Nah. I’m bowing out gracefully. Thank you for your service, king. You may be seated.

Ghana Bae: The Carlos Rossi Connoisseur

So Ghana Bae—who I think I accidentally learned the real name of, but let’s not make things weird—is still hanging around. He didn’t text me on my birthday, but he did hit me up the day after to ask how my party was and offer to take me to a belated birthday dinner.

Which, honestly, is the very least he could do considering the fact that I’ve been serving him A1-grade coochie like it's part of my civic duty.

We made plans, but I forgot I had a date with a real friend that night (a concept!), so I canceled. Rescheduled for next week, but to be real, I feel myself phasing out. There’s something about the third hookup that feels like the finale of a limited series—tight, impactful, and not worth renewing for another season.

I’m thinking of adopting a “three strikes and you’re ghosted” rule. We'll call it The Trifecta Exit Strategy™.

O: Sweet But Soft-Serve Energy

O finally texted me days after my birthday to tell me he was sick over the weekend and meant to come to my party. That’s cute. I hit him with a “feel better” and kept it pushin’.

I wasn’t holding my breath for his presence anyway. The only thing strong about him lately has been the signal on his excuses. No shade, but also, full shade. I feel complete with him too. My soft exit game has gotten strong. We love growth.

Hoe-ment Status: Intermission

If this entire birthday saga has taught me anything, it’s that my attention span is shorter than a squirrel in traffic. I’m not built for halfway energy. I crave obsession, dedication, devotion. If you’re not texting me like “where are you, I need to taste you right now,” then honestly, what are we doing?

It’s funny—I said I wanted to learn how to be casual, but I’m out here emotionally allergic to anything less than full-blown fantasy romance. The second they stop applying pressure, I disappear like a vibrator in the couch cushions. Poof.

Maybe my hoe-ment was more like a hoe-millisecond. Or a hoe-blink. Either way, I’m in a weird little liminal space where I’m not done playing, but I’m also not settling for subpar dick and lackluster vibes.

Feeld Forecast: Foggy with a Chance of Daddies

I’ve logged onto Feeld a few times recently, but no one’s piqued my interest. I’m not looking for a standard “wyd” type of connection. I want someone (or a very giving couple 👀) who sees me as their spoiled baby girl. Someone eager to fund my orgasms and my vacations. A Dom Daddy with a passport and a praise kink. Is that too much to ask?

Until then, I’m keeping myself entertained:

* Asking juicy kink questions on IG

* Doing casual Feeld interviews

* Exploring my own pleasure like it’s my job (because… it kinda is)

We’re manifesting aligned connections only, OK?

Birthday Party Recap: Certified Slutty Success

Let me just say: my birthday party? 10/10, no notes. It was giving Freaky Friday: Extended Director’s Cut. Lap dances, pole dances, titty money showers, and vibes on vibes. My outfit? The perfect balance of slutty, classy, and a little “oops I dropped my morals on the floor.” My friends showed up looking like sex and wealth. It was beautiful.

The only thing missing was someone to take me home and absolutely wreck me. I left the party turned on and turned out, only to climb into bed alone like a sad stripper after a dry night. Very cinematic. Very "this will make a great blog post". So here we are.

Until Next Time…

This season feels mysterious. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I’m keeping my legs open and my standards high.

Until more freaky tales emerge… enjoy these pics.
And remember: Pressure makes diamonds and makes me come.

xo,
Your favorite pleasure researcher 💦

[the-daily-scrommit]

July 23, 2024

Jul 23, 2024, 12:20pm - Seventeenth Entry

It's been some time again, and this time I return as suggested by my therapist.

Of course, they didn't suggest I return to tumblr to spout my thoughts across the internet, but they did suggest I return to journaling.

The last few months, I've been seeing someone wonderful, someone who has been a life-changing addition to, well, my life in its entirety. Things have been complicated, and uncomfortably unlabeled, because I don't feel a desire to set a boundary based off of that at this point, and because this counterpart hasn't had the room to breathe and think about something as deep as this with all that they have going on.

Today I've found myself sitting and thinking, but unable to finish this thought to them. With the loosing track, I figured now would be a good time to journal; I'm sure putting these thoughts into some physical form will help me finish them.

Addressed to them, the following is what has been trying to take shape in my mind: I've had a hard time with feeling guilty about opening up to you. I trust you, and I trust that you will tell me when things are wrong, or too much, yet at the same time there is a lack of trust, partially because I know you have a hard time standing up for yourself emotionally sometimes- and that means I do feel like I have to check in even when I simply don't have the capacity to act on that feeling in a productive manner- and because I'm traumatized. I get scared that my trauma is a cop-out; it certainly isn't supposed to be. I'm afraid that I'm nearing the point of ceasing talking about my trauma because it comes up so much. I don't want you to be another person who thinks that I'm doing this for attention, or that I'm not working on myself when I am and am just having a difficult time, especially when you've stated before that neither of those lines of thought are true in your mind. But I know, I say it a lot. I blame a lot on my trauma, because there are so many problems I wouldn't have if I simply wasn't traumatized in the way that I am. I trust you. I trust you I trust you I trust you. I swear, I promise, I trust you. I'm not talking myself into trusting you, because I don't have to do that, because I do trust you. I'm traumatized, and thus these two truths exist alongside each other: I trust you, and I am afraid of surrendering myself to my trust in you. In the past, the trust I've surrendered myself to has been faulty, and forced. While I know yours is true, my body has not registered that yet; it still sees you as a potential threat, a source of heartbreak to come. But oh darling, how I trust you, how I have so much faith in you as a source of truth and honesty in my life. My sweetheart, I know you will not lead me astray. Please just be patient, and give my body some time to catch up to my mind, and then the two the time to meet my heart. In every way that I can mean it, I love you.

Maybe I will say this to them at some point, and maybe they will never know I thought this. Now at least this thought is complete, and I can spend my time digesting, and processing, and finding peace in these multiple truths.

Until next time. Take care of yourselves.

12:39pm

[lightcreators]

Plot  twist  around  Ciel  Phantomhive  remained  most  funny  circusmtances  of  his  entire  life  ---  when  his  own  tragedy  of  existence,  all  the  horrible  jokes  life  had  been  pulled  on  him  since  the  beginning,  everything  he  had  endured,  from  another  perspective,  seemed  an  comedy.  It  make  no  difference  about  how  much  he  was  caring  for  Astre,  and  if  he  could  be  allowed  to,  would  jumping  over  the  opportunity  to  called  him  Ciel  again.  He  didn't  care  if  he  wasn't  the  true  Earl  because  for  him,  he  remained  the  true  Earl  of  Phantomhive,  the  little  deadly  annoyance  he  loved  pulling  all  his  affection  and  his  obsession  with  ---  in  same  way,  on  his  part,  he  wanted  remaining  the  Earl  Trancy  …  because  he  was  dramatically  learn  how  to  do  it.  Tragically  learning  how  to  embracing  his  full  name  within  appropriate  reactions,  which  will  making  him  accidentally  a  too  much  nasty  villain  who  was  too  much  for  his  kind  personality  …  his  little  problem  with  the  underground.  It  represented  an  solace  for  Phantomhive,  who  passed  though  him  ---  while  it  represented  the  antichamber  of  an  long-term  nightmare.  Nevertheless,  without  underground,  he  couldn't  grab  the  Underground  ---  and  without  Underground,  how  he  could  imagining  himself  touch  Purgatory  doors  ?  How  he  could  imagining  himself  imposing  his  own  laws  to  the  God  of  the  Underground  ?  Especially  even  since  the  plot  twist  had  came  to  his  eyes,  there  had  been  an  silenced  temptation,  a  kind  of  gift  he  wanted  to  do  for  his  own  selfish  needs.  If  he  escaped  the  Underground,  if  his  metaphoric  twin  achieved  to  escaping  an  Underground  he  was  supposed  to  be  linked  with  ---  he  could  dream  about  stole  Astre  from  Hades,  right  ?  If  he  was  convincing  Hades  from  whatever  manner  to  do  it  that  favor,  he  could  imagine  saving  Astre  of  his  tragic fate  …

Hence,  as  the  notion,  coming  from  his  lips,  knowing  him  worried  wouldn't  making  him  lost  his  focus,  he  was  feeling  honored.  ❝  I  thought  you  said  if  people  were  worried,  your  attention  will  be  distracted  …  am  I  exception  of  that  rule  ?  Oh,  really,  I  appreciate  it.  ❞  He  replied  at  once  with  more  remnant  of  brightness,  when  that  sentence  cheer  him  up  his  mood.  Actually,  he  wasn't  going  simply  to  be  worried  about  him.  He  was  searching  to  help  him.  By  proposing  the  underground  chat,  by  plotting  about  how  stole  his  soul  since  he  could  doing  himself  the  favor  to  be  the  one  stealing  another  menu  of  an  demon  …  Closeness  slowly  exposed  once  more  towards  that  blue  haired  presence  he  was  clinging  into.  There  was  one  metaphoric  twin  that  will  doing  his  pleasure  to  emotionally  destroy  him  and  witnessing  what  kind  of  potential  was  sleeping  inside  Phantomhive,  he  shall  focus  on  cherish  him  deeply.  Confessions  of  his  last  sentence  pushed  him  inside  an  sudden  unexpected  silence.  ❝  You're  saying  that  to  someone  who  is  horribly  weak,  in  comparison  your  armor  has  always  been  much  stronger  than  mine.  ❞  Another reason  in  which  moment  with  Philip  Butler  caused  him  impression  he  would  be  destroyed  by  the  underground.  As  it  had  been  with  Claude.  As  it  had  been  the  case  when  wrapped  with  darkness.  As  it  had  been  with  anything  who  happened  prior.  He  managed  to  swallow  back  remembrance  of  his  curse.  He  had  a  hard  time  getting  back  on  his  feet  once  he  had  been  pushed  into  the  darkness,  same  darkness  that  was  devouring  him,  unable  of  governing  them  in  return.  Within  the  sudden  revelation  he  received  in  which  his  mind  was  unable  to  process  it  ---  currently  unable  to  process  neither  how  his  metaphoric  twin  would  most  likely  BURN  THE  WORLD  DOWN  if  something  happened  to  him  by  now,  or  regardless  indifferent  features  of  Butler  there  was  deep  affection  over  the  lost  cause  he  repreented  ---  since  he  admired  that  sudden  emotion  within  Astre,  as  he  was  embracing  the  nice  feelings,  he  jumped  on  him  for  giving  him  sort  of  hug,  sort  of  affection  ---  sort  of  returning  reaction  towards  his  sentences.  ❝  You'll  have  opportunities  to  protect  me,  Phantomhive~  As  much  I  will  protect  yours.  I  wouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  my  life  without  you, without my beloved Phantomhive.  ❞

The underground. Astre still had connections, even if he was not the Earl anymore. Which is why he only kept a select few close to him. Those he could trust, and would not betray him and throw him to the wolves. Astre didn't want to be remembered as just a shadow. A boy who was too frail to do even the simplist things when he was a boy. And coming to know Jim, what he had gone through made them closer as acquaintences.

Astre turned his gaze away from Jim. It was still hard for him to express any real sincere feelings towards others. After everything he has gone through in life, losing his parents. Being kidnapped. Subjected to cruel people, having closed his heart off for so long. The former earl returned his gaze back to the blonde. "No. No, I don't think you worrying about me will make me lose focus. That is a dumb things say."

His last words really hit him in the gut. Making his fingers curl until both his hands were now tight balled fists. "I am worried! And, I am scared that something might happen to you. There I said it. If anything were to happen to you. I, would be lost. Completely lose it. I've always been weak. Even though I put on a tough skin of armor, acted cold. And I have never been good at protecting anyone."

Fingers uncurled as he relaxed his posture a bit. Face was flustered a little after saying all that. Long story short, he didn't want to lose anyone else. Especially Jim, but that he would not dare say aloud.

[bambirex]

Hi!! Can you please write something for Quinntana post wedding hookup featuring Pezberry friendship. Maybe Quinn comes to visit the loft or Santana to New Haven. Thank you :)))

Hi!! There you go, I hope you'll like it 💕

Warnings: none

**

"Twice!?"

"Yes, Rachel, twice."

"And Quinn still insists she's straight?"

Santana could only reply with a snort. She only wished she knew what Quinn insisted on- they haven't talked since Mr. Schue's wedding, where, as Rachel screeched, they had sex twice. Everything has been so awkward since then. They said their rushed goodbyes in the morning, parted ways without even sparing a glance back at each other, and now there was complete radio silence.

And Santana desperately wanted to convince herself that she didn't care, because it was just a hookup, and so what if she never sees Quinn again, but to be honest, she couldn't stop thinking about that night. Or about Quinn in general. The situation was so dire, that she ended up spilling her heart out to Rachel.

Rachel, despite what so many people claimed, was a good friend. She did care; she listened to Santana rambling, and only interrupted her at the part where Santana mentioned it was actually a two-time thing. Not that anyone could blame her for being surprised.

"Look, why don't you call her, then?" Rachel asked her after a while, a small smile playing on her lips. "I know you must be frustrated..."

"I'm not!" Santana snapped, way too frustrated for someone who insisted they weren't. At Rachel's amused look, she let out a deep sigh. "Okay, maybe I am... It's just... We've been friends. Or frenemies, rather. We've always been the two ends of the same bitch-goddess spectrum, and obviously, I've noticed that Quinn was hot. And the sex was good, but it's not like I'm in love with her, right?"

Rachel let out a soft laugh. "You're asking me?"

Santana, the queen of witty comebacks, suddenly didn't know what to say. So, instead, she plopped down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"I can't believe you're making me admit this," Santana said, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice. "Me, taking advice from Rachel Berry?"

"Come on, you know you love me," Rachel cooed. When Santana made a fake disgusted face, Rachel wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed an overly loud kiss to her cheek.

"Do this again, and I'll strangle you," Santana scoffed, though she ended up hugging Rachel in return. As much as she insisted on being annoyed by her flatmate, the truth was, she really did love Rachel, and right now, she was the only person who saw through Santana's carefully crafted mask. Maybe that was exactly what Santana needed at the moment: someone who wouldn't take no shit from her, who wouldn't let her get away with her usual facade.

"I really should call her, I guess," Santana concluded, "but what if she never wants to see me again?"

"Then, she's losing out on all the awesomeness that you are," Rachel replied earnestly. "And I really doubt she wouldn't want to see you again. I mean, she did sleep with you twice... And, also, I've seen how she's looking at you, too. You need to take a chance on her."

"Alright, but if she rejects me, you know it's gonna be your fault," Santana chuckled, eyeing her phone on the coffee table. It was easy enough: she just needed to call Quinn, ask her how she was doing. Then, try to bring up the wedding hookup and hopefully get her to say what she was really thinking, because God, Quinn was just as stubborn and emotionally guarded as Santana, if not more.

So, maybe it won't even be that easy.

Just as Santana finally decided to reach for her phone, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" Rachel announced, jumping off the couch and rushing to the door. Santana didn't even look up to see who it was, assuming it was probably Kurt forgetting his keys again.

She didn't expect a soft and familiar voice to greet them.

Santana jumped up so quickly her knees popped in protest. Heat rose to her cheeks as she spotted Quinn standing in the doorway, looking beautiful as always and with an almost shy smile on her face.

"It's good to see you, Santana," she said. Santana's mouth ran dry, but she managed to squeeze out a "you too."

"Oh, I forgot about my appointment," Rachel suddenly said, in the company of a cheeky grin. "I'll leave you two alone."

Before Santana could prevent her from leaving her alone in this situation, Rachel was already out the door. Great. Now she really had to face her fears.

"How come you're dropping by?" Santana asked, hoping she didn't sound too enthusiastic. "I haven't seen you since..."

"The wedding, I know," Quinn chuckled, taking a careful step towards Santana. Only now that she was standing this close, did Santana realize that Quinn was probably just as nervous as she was.

"I wanted to talk to you," Quinn admitted, staring at her shoes instead of at Santana. "Because... Well."

"I understand, it was a two-time thing, just a fun experiment between friends," Santana said quickly, adding a shrug to appear nonchalant. "Don't worry about it, Fabray."

"Is that what it was to you?" Quinn asked, finally looking up. There was pain in both her voice and her eyes, and Santana suddenly wanted to slap herself.

"I..."

"Because... Maybe, it was more, to me," Quinn said quietly, taking one more step closer. Now Santana caught a whiff of her sweet perfume, and it made her head spin.

"Maybe," Quinn continued, reaching for Santana's hand, "it's hard to stop thinking about it. What if I told you, that I can't sleep at night, because all I think about is you?"

Santana suddenly forgot how to breathe. There were so many things she wanted to say, things she should have said, but no word came out. She just gaped at Quinn, blinking rapidly to make sure this wasn't just a fever dream.

"And I came here, because I wanted to tell you this, and if you hate me now, or never want to see me again, that's fine," now Quinn let go of Santana's hand and took a step back, suddenly so insecure, and Santana couldn't bear it. Because she couldn't stop thinking about Quinn either, and she couldn't make her think this was one-sided.

"I'm glad you did," she ended up saying. This time, she was the one who stepped closer. "I'm glad you came. I was just considering calling you, because Berry made me."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, amused, making Santana realize how bad this sounded.

"I mean, I wanted to talk to you, too, but I guess I was a bit... nervous, and needed a bit of a push...?"

There was a smile, almost a smirk on Quinn's face, similar to when she told Santana she quite enjoyed slow-dancing with a girl.

"I make the great Santana Lopez nervous?"

Santana scoffed, mentally cursing at herself for blushing at the way Quinn's voice dropped lower.

"Don't be too full of yourself."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Quinn grinned, gently cupping Santana's face between her palms. "Now, that I've come such a long way, and you vaguely admitted I wasn't just a fun lay for you, can I kiss you?"

"I didn't admit anything," Santana murmured under her breath, too lost in staring at the way Quinn slowly licked her lips to sound convincing. "But, yeah. You can."

Not a single doubt remained when Quinn pressed her lips to hers- it was familiar, the taste of her, but it was also new. It wasn't rushed and messy, like at the wedding. It was slower, more tentative, more promising. Like maybe this could truly become something more between them. Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, and Quinn placed her hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

They were still kissing when Rachel came back home.

[soulmate-game]

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

[narcissisticmf]

come back, please | peter pevensie x fem!reader

description: y/n lives in narnia and after the pevensie siblings leave, she feels like her connection with peter was left unfinished. she begs aslan to go see him in his world.

trigger warnings: angst, violence, sword fighting, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 3.1k

You stood beside Caspian as you watched Aslan stand before the crowd of Telmarines and Narnians. The air was rather brisk that day, you felt your clothed arms grow subtle goosebumps all amongst them. You attempted to avoid eye contact with anyone except Aslan, for you were unable to look to the Pevensie siblings without shedding a tear or two, or many more. You felt Caspian nudge your arm softly with his elbow as a way to comfort you without using words. You forced a small smile to your glossy lips and continued to look at Aslan.

"If any Telmarines wish, I will return you to your forefathers. I'm not referring to Telmar, either. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands. Pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world. The same world as our kings and queens," Aslan trailed off and continued to explain more about where he would send any of the volunteers.

When he'd mentioned the kings and queens of Narnia, your eyes flickered to the Pevensies. The warmth in your eyes slowly started to grow cold when you locked your gaze with Peter, who looked back at you with a gentle expression. Through your lashes, tears blurred your vision. You felt as though you shouldn't be crying, you did your best to fight it, but the tears continued to trickle down from your waterline, along your cheeks staining your soft skin.

After a family had offered to go through with Aslan's offer, he awaited upon another volunteer. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing what was coming when Peter stepped forth.

"We'll go," He swallowed thickly, his gaze bounced from Aslan to you.

"We will?" Lucy's voice raised in pitch.

"Come on. Our time's up," Peter released a breath and walked towards you and Caspian. His attention was solely on the prince as he pulled off his sword. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore," He handed the sword over to Caspian who took it in his grasp.

"I will look after it until your return," Caspian spoke with incandescence.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan spoke up. You glanced up to her with a knowing expression. "We're not coming back," She finished.

You felt Peter stand before you, but your eyes refused to look up to him. Without making any weeps, hot tears fell down along your flushed cheeks. Your blurred vision caught a glimpse of Peter's hands motion towards your face. His warm palms caressed your wet cheeks, making you finally look up to him.

"Why must you go, Peter?" You released in a soft whisper, nearly inaudible.

"I've learned what I can from this world, Y/N.. it is time for me to live in my own," He spoke gently, a subtle sadness under his tone.

"I will miss you so much," You choked out, in an attempt to keep your voice steady, but you failed miserably.

Peter parted his glossy lips and stared at you with the most comforting gaze you could imagine. He snuck his arms around your shoulders and buried his face into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his torso with all the emotional strength you had left in you. You couldn't let go, not until he would first.

"Don't forget me," You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him.

"Never," Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and let the warmth from your forehead spread throughout the rest of your body.

You felt Peter pull away, his fingers grazing across your sides as he stepped back, keeping his eyes upon you as he made his way to stand beside his siblings. Caspian and Susan shared a goodbye beside you, but you continued to watch Peter as he did you.

A burning sensation overtook your eyes as you watched the Pevensie siblings make their way between the trees of which Aslan had made for anyone who wished to go into another world. As soon as they stepped between the trees, they disappeared and you were left with your heart sunken into your stomach. More tears trickled down your cheeks as you stood silently watching the same spot Peter once stood.

More Narnians and Telmarines volunteered to go, but not all. Many people chose to stay. You planned to stay in Narnia with Caspian and the rest of the Narnians. You continued to stand still, watching the same place Peter was last seen before he disappeared.

.

The night was rather cold in Narnia, brisk wind and starry nights. You remained in the same spot for hours on end, still staring at the same tree. You hadn't known why you felt so weakened by Peter's departure, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to cope in any healthy manner.

"Don't you think it is time you get some rest?" Caspian's voice was heard from behind you. You couldn't break your gaze from the trees as more tears begun to fall.

"He's not coming back," You whispered through your parted, dry lips.

Caspian begun to walk up along the steps behind you. He stood to your side and followed your gaze to the same tree. "If it makes you feel any better, I am just as unhappy to know that Susan will not be back either," Caspian stated quietly.

"Knowing we are both miserable makes me even more unhappy," You released a soft breath, feeling emotionally tired.

Caspian sighed and continued to stand beside you, for even his company may do some good for you. After hours upon hours of looking through the trees, you broke your gaze and looked at Caspian. His eyes found yours and your parted your dry lips, breathing slowly.

"I've done enough mourning for one day," You spoke, "Goodnight, Caspian."

Starting down the steps, you walked along the stone of the fortress and headed towards your chamber. With sleep, prehaps, you'd be able to regain some emotional strength for the days to come.

.

The sun's rays snuck through the curtains of your chamber and struck your eyes mildly. You groaned and turned over, in no desire to awaken just yet. Your body felt awfully heavy and the skin around your eyes puffed due to how much you'd been crying.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes opened and felt the mixture of mucus and tears harden along the inner corners of both your eyes. You took your knuckles and rubbed them away, releasing a deep sigh as you did so. You begun to sit up against the headboard of your bed. You pushed yourself off the mattress and walked barefoot about your room. You quickly changed from your sleepwear to your armor. Although not needed, you decided to practice some sword fighting early that day, in hopes of getting your mind off of Peter.

You pulled your boots on over your barefeet and grabbed your sword from the case at the end of your bed. Hurrying across the hall, you made your way out into the field where many Narnians were gathered. You kept your eyes peeled for Caspian, in hopes of asking him to practice with you.

"You're looking well rested this morning, Y/N," The voice of Caspian was heard from behind you, making you jump.

"Don't creep up on me like that," You scolded softly and watched him chuckling lightly. "Mind practicing with me for a little while? I need to get my mind preoccupied."

Caspian nodded his head, "Allow me to get my sword first." You nodded in response and scurried out further into the field, where you both would maintain a harmless battle away from the rest of the Narnians.

Awaiting in the field, you held your sword by the handle, having the blade kiss the grass. The sun's rays were potent that day, the leather armor against your body grew hot against your skin. When Caspian was seen in the distance with his sword and two shields, you released a breath and felt the adrenaline begin to build.

"We can't fight without shields," Caspian offered a grin as he tossed one to you. You rolled your eyes playfully and held up the shield in your free hand. "Ready?" He asked as he stood relatively far from you.

"Are you?" You offered with an evil glint, swinging the blade towards him as he dodged it with his shield. When Caspian tried to strike you from the head, you bent down so that you'd dodge his hit. You took the opportunity to swing your sword at his feet, causing him to stumble backwards.

You stood straight and watched as he slowly got up, swinging his sword towards you from the left and right. A grunt left your lips when your blade came to contact with Caspian's shield, a spark flew off the metal.

You couldn't help but remember Peter, how you and he would often practice together. Mostly because your sword fighting needed some work, but never directly spoke of that. You missed him truly and it grew harder to come into terms with when you knew you'd never see him again.

Caspian's strike to your blade kicked you from your thoughts. You mentally thanked him for that. You let out another grunt and swung your sword to his, the strike so powerful that it knocked it from his grasp. Caspian looked rather surprised and when you kept swinging, he dodged almost every hit with his shield.

You swung beneath his feet, which caused him to jump, swiftly avoiding your hit. You watched as Caspian reached for his sword upon the grass, making you swing to his shield again.

The both of you froze when you turned to notice Aslan was watching over the field at the top of the castle, overseeing all the Narnians. You released a soft breath and slowly brought your blade down, endless thoughts of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy ran through your mind. You dropped your sword and begun to run back into the castle.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" Caspian called, but you were already hot upon your feet, too fast to turn back.

You scurried up the stairs, making left and right turns until you'd make it to the top, where Aslan stood overseeing everything and everyone. You needed to take the opportunity you had to speak with him yourself. You opened the doors to the top and looked straight ahead, seeing Aslan still there, before the same tree you spent all of yesterday looking at.

"Aslan," You breathed out and watched as his head turned to look at you. His light green eyes found yours, his mane moved softly with the brisk wind. You made your way towards him and stopped once you came to the edge.

"I see you've been practicing on your skill, dear one," Aslan stated, turning his head toward you.

"I need something to occupy my mind," You bashfully admitted.

"Missing them, are you?" He asked, with concern.

"More than I would like to admit."

"I miss them too, Edmund and Lucy will return eventually, in a few years potentially," Aslan continued to look at you, finding your face was written with distress. "What's the matter, dear one?"

"I must see Peter again," You spoke in a shaky tone. "I want him to come back and be here."

"Y/N, Peter has grown and learned all that he could from this world," Aslan said, his eyes softening.

"Can't I visit him in his world?" You spoke gently.

"Yes, but only for a little while," Aslan breathed out.

"How long?" You whispered.

"Two days of their world and then you will return."

You nodded gently, parting your lips as you stared at Aslan. He nodded in response and motioned towards the trees, the wind picked up in and the leaves rustled against the thin branches. You watched with a mesmerized gaze, keeping your eyes locked with the leaves. The color of the sky faded into a dark grey from a light blue. You squinted softly and turned your head to look before you. The road was slick and droplets from the sky fell rapidly down upon the ground. Puddles overflown against the sides of the road.

Glancing down at your clothing, you noticed you'd been dressed in a maroon colored uniform with your hair now straightened against your shoulders. You parted your lips and turned to look around, noticing how busy the streets were.

Slowly, you stepped forth to make sure no oncoming vehicles would hit you, when both sides of thr street were clear, you scurried across and made it to the other end, seeing that many a persons walked about the concrete. You'd been in Narnia so long that you'd forgotten what the streets were like during the daylight. You questioned if daylight would still be referred to as the same despite the gloomy whether that arose over England.

You turned your head to notice several people were exiting the underground railway station. You felt a nervousness grow deep inside your stomach. The center of your palms produced a thin layer of sweat when your eyes were met with four people you knew all too well in your world. You parted your lips softly and watched as Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy came up from the staircase and upon the same sidewalk as you had been upon. You were unsure if they'd recognize you, being so far away.

Your eyes locked with Lucy as she turned her head and noticed you. She had a wide grin upon her face as she reached to tug Peter's sleeve, her gaze never breaking with yours. Your lips formed into the most beautiful smile, shining ever so brightly on such a dull day.

When Peter looked to Lucy, she pointed towards you and her eldest brother followed where her finger led to. When his deep blue eyes fell into your warm ones, he froze in a state of shock, but also great happiness as you could tell his smile was rising. You missed everything of him, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his arms and his incandescent attitude. Susan and Edmund were the last to notice you, smiling happily.

You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, you begun to run towards them with pure excitement running through your veins. The adrenaline ran through you like wildfire, spreading about beneath the surface of your skin. The pit of your excitement lied within your chest, where your heart was palpitating like crazy.

"Peter!" You smiled as he started running in your direction. Behind him, the rest of the Pevensie siblings ran to you. You released inhaled deeply once you were close enough to Peter. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up and spinning around with a sweet laugh escaping his lips. You hugged his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.

"Ah! Y/N, I missed you," Peter spoke as though a large weight was taken off of his shoulders.

"I missed you.. all of you," You let happy tears trickle down your cheeks as Peter placed you down onto the concrete. You slowly peeled back from him and took Lucy into a hug, along with Susan and Edmund.

"How did you get back?" Susan asked with a grin to her lips.

"Aslan, I will be here in your world for two days," You released a breath.

"Why two days?" Lucy questioned.

"I suppose it has a lot to do with how much I miss you all.. how terrible it was to let you go the first time.. it'll hurt no less the second time," You sighed gently.

You looked from Lucy to Peter with a softening expression. "If it's okay, I would like to speak to you," You mentioned softly.

"I'll catch up with you, wait at the traffic light for me," Peter looked to Edmund, Susan and Lucy as they all nodded and headed up along the sidewalk. You turned to look at Peter, who was already staring down upon you.

"I couldn't bear it," You released in a gentle breath. Peter offered his hand and you gladly took it, feeling an overwhelming sense of butterflies in your stomach. He lead you to a small bench before the road and you took a seat in it, soon after he did as well.

"Peter, I wish you could come back with me," You admitted.

"I wish I could as well," He pressed his lips together, "But I'm afraid I am just grown too old to go back."

"You're never too old for Narnia," You spoke softly. Peter offered a thin smile and took your hand in his own, entwining your fingers together.

"Come back, please," You felt your eyes brim with tears, "There's so much I haven't gotten to tell you."

Peter gently took his free hand and brushed away the tears from beneath your eyes. "What is it that you haven't gotten to tell me, Y/N?" He whispered and leaned in closer, making the moment much more intimate.

"Two days won't be enough time," You looked up to him.

"Come back, bring Lucy, Susan and Edmund.. Narnia needs you. I need you," You admitted ever so gently. "I'm unsure if Aslan will ever do this for me again, Peter."

Peter rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your fingers intertwind with his own. "There's only one thing Narnia has that I would go back for in a mere second," His voice lowered.

"What is it?" Your eyes flickered up into his own, a deep nervousness kicked back into your stomach.

Peter pulled his head back gently and smiled, his dimples caving in as he did so. You parted your glossy lips and watched as his blue eyes locked with yours. You felt your body move closer to him, not physically, but rather emotionally.

Before you could comprehend it, your lips were overtaken by Peter's. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and gave into the kiss, feeling your lips mold together in the most perfect sync. You felt his chest press against your own. You took the opportunity to cup his cheeks with your palms, feeling pure gaiety within your body. You missed Peter more than you could even begin to explain. You were unsure where else this kiss would lead, but you had no intent to rush there.

.

a/n: hello lovies!! so this may have been one of my favorite things i've ever written. i know it's angsty but those are the types of pieces i love writing the most. i hope you enjoyed this one and who knows maybe i'll write a part two? hmm? haha! anyway, thank you so much for reading! be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 5}

I am so excited to share the last part of this story with you.  It means so much to me to be able to share my work and have people enjoy it, so thank you to everyone who has read this little fic.  Huge shout out to the extremely talented @fizzydrink698 for being an inspiration to my writing and an all-around sweet and supportive human.  And the biggest thank you of all to my beta reader, @harry-on-broadway, for being the most encouraging and wonderful friend, without whom I never would have had the confidence to write this, let alone put it out into the world. 💜

Hope you enjoy the finale of Mamihlapinatapai.

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: smut, emotionally abusive parents, usage of degrading names

Rating: Mature

Word count: 6k

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As Soft As Petals  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

It was late into the evening, maybe even so late it was actually early, and you were standing outside the prince’s door, frantically knocking on it.

“Y/n, what’s happened?!  Is everything alright?”

You walked straight into the room, not even bothering to wait for Chan to invite you in.

“It’s my mother.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I assumed she went with a separate wagon party the way she came when we left Lajor, but everyone in the servants’ quarters says they haven’t seen her in hours and I’ve looked everywhere I can think of and - “

“Shh, shh, Y/n calm down, it’s alright,” Chan said, taking your hands in his.  You were full on hyperventilating at this point, your body starting to physically shake with worry.

“I-I just… these past few weeks I almost lost you and then we almost went to war and I can’t handle not knowing where she is.  I just can’t imagine what I’d do if she - ” your voice caught in your throat, unable to bring yourself to say your worst fear.

“I know, I know, but it’s going to be alright,” Chan soothed.  “I’m sure she’s fine and we’ll find her, but you are in no state now to continue looking for her.  Why don’t I ask a few of the guards to keep searching the palace grounds, and I’ll send a rider to Lajor to make sure she would have made it back with us?”

You looked up at him.  “You would do that?”

“Of course, Y/n, this is your mother we’re talking about.  We’ll do everything we need to until you know she’s safe,” he said, guiding you gently with him towards the door, knowing you wouldn’t want to let go of his hand based on the vice-like grip you currently had on it.  He leaned his head out into the hallway, calling for one of the guards stationed at the end and relaying what he wanted done to continue the search for your mother.  All the while you were watching him with an expression of awe and gratitude.  It still surprised you, how he seemed to know exactly what you needed, and even more so that he was willing to do whatever it took to do it for you.  He walked you back into the room, taking the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, still catching your breath from your moment of distress.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gently, leaning down, his lips ever so slightly grazing the crown of your head.

You felt a shiver run through you.

“Your Highness,” you lifted your head to say something, hoping to avoid talking about what he had just done, but were stopped in your tracks by the look on his face.

“I was actually hoping to see you tonight.  I need to tell you something, Y/n.  And you might not like what I have to say, but I can’t keep denying it for the rest of my life.  These last few weeks have shown me that I can’t take anything for granted, so I intend to stop right now.”  He paused and stood up, giving you room to stop him if you wanted, but when you remained silent he took that as permission to keep going.

“I’m in love with you.  I think I always have been.  I’m in love with the way you hum that same silly tune to yourself when you’re doing chores.  How you can read a map of any terrain, how you’re not afraid to correct me when I make a mistake while drilling our sword fighting techniques.  I’m in love with the smile you get on your face when you ride through the woods and the way your hair looks when the light shines on it through the trees.”

You were aware your mouth was slightly open, your eyes staring at Chan like a dumbstruck deer, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the words he was saying.  You’d always known you still had feelings for him, and could only dream he reciprocated those same feelings.  But hearing him say all the little things you didn’t even notice about yourself, hearing him say he loved you for those things, your mind was at a loss for what to do.

“I love how you care for our people, how you always have their best interests at heart.  How you would be willing to never speak about these feelings I know we both share so as to not jeopardize your ability to serve me, to serve them.  But most of all I love that you see me.  Not the statesman or the fighter or the ruler, just me.”

You made up your mind then.  To hell with the king’s threats, with the questions your mother had asked you about responsibilities and sacrifices.  You had been making the greatest sacrifice of all for the last sixteen years, but no more.

You launched yourself at him, his arms wrapping around you immediately and your lips meeting his.

It was somehow exactly like that night five years ago and nothing like it at all.  You’d both grown in experience since then, having had other partners over the years.  Your lips moved smoother against one another’s, and it was more passionate than it was gentle.  But you felt that same feeling of euphoria glowing inside you, knowing that you were here with him and he was here with you and you were both finally admitting to what you’d always felt but never dared to acknowledge.  You felt yourself sinking into him, willing to let the tide of his love carry you away if it meant you could stay in this moment forever.  Your lips parted from his, Chan titling your head up to look at him.

“I need to hear you say it.  I need to know that you love me, too.”

You took his face in your hands, willing your voice to convey how sincere you were.

“I love you Chris.  I love the way your hair is always ruffled in the morning and that you sing to yourself when you think no one can hear.  I love how you take three cubes of sugar with your tea instead of two.  I love your determination to better yourself and your dedication to better your people.  I love that you have always treated me as an equal.  I love your dimples and your eyes and the way you make me feel safe when my hand is in yours.”  You brought your thumb up to wipe away a single tear that was sliding down his cheek, his eyes shining as he listened to your words.  “It has always been you, Chris.  It will always be you.”

He smiled then, that same blinding smile that had bound you to him from the day you met.  He kissed you again, then began moving his lips down the side of your neck, your head tilting back to allow him more skin.  His hand reached back and in a few quick motions the laces of your bodice were loose enough for your dress to fall off your shoulders.  He kissed downwards over your chest, and your breath hitched as the dress moved lower and lower, eventually dropping to the floor, leaving you almost bare for him.

Your hands came up to thread through his hair as you mocked, “You are entirely too clothed for my liking, Your Highness.”

At that, Chan whipped his shirt over his head, exposing his soft skin and toned abs, then pulled you to him, tone light but face serious. “I never want to have to hear you call me that ever again.”

“Chan,” you laughed, lightly smacking his chest, “what we’re doing right now is staying confined to this room; I’ll still have to call you that in front of everyone else.”

“Fine,” he all but growled, “I will settle for never hearing it in this room.  For now.”  His lips returned to pressing featherlight kisses to your jaw and found your sweet spot below your ear.  A sigh escaped your lips as Chan lifted you up and placed you under him on the bed, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back as he shed the rest of his clothes and removed the final layer separating you from him.  You could feel his hardness against your dripping core and you looked down, holding in a moan when you saw how big he was.

“Ah ah ah,” the prince purred, “I don’t want you to hold anything back tonight.  I have waited so long to have you like this, and I want to hear every sound that falls from your lips.  I want to know how good I make you feel, Y/n.”

Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn't hold back the sinful sound that left you as he brought his mouth to suckle and nip at your breast, his hand reaching down to rub the pads of his first two fingers against your heat.  Slowly, he increased the pace and the pressure as he kissed down your body, bringing his head between your thighs.  You moaned when you felt his tongue lick a long, languid stripe up your core, then brought your hands to tangle in his hair as he stroked small circles against your sensitive bud.  Desperate for him, you pulled his head back up to meet yours, back arching as you whimpered, “Please Chris.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, the feeling of him against your walls far better than you’d ever imagined.  Being this close to him, feeling his cock reach places inside you you hadn’t known could feel this good, the intimacy was almost overwhelming, so you clung to him, reveling in the feeling of being with the man you loved.

“How did I get so lucky?” Chan was whispering, praises falling from his lips.  “Fuck Y/n, you’re so beautiful, an angel, my perfect girl.  Taking me so well, like you were made for me.”

“I was,” you breathed out, “all of me is yours Chris, only yours.”

His thrusts increased then, both of you teetering on the edge of your highs.  You captured his lips in another burning kiss, sealing your love as the ecstasy coursed through you both.  You laid there for a few moments, relishing the weight of his body on yours and the quiet sound of his heartbeat.  Then Chan rose and fetched a cloth to clean you both, your body already starting to succumb to the pleasant exhaustion.

When he returned to the bed you heard his voice whisper one last I love you before you drifted off in his arms.

Runaway  |  Kingdom of Miroh, 28 years ago

The girl had been running for two days.

She’d prepared her knights and her attendant, told them the story she’d fabricated for them to repeat, and paid them handsomely for the trouble she was surely causing them.  Her parents would be frantic, but eventually they would mourn her and move on.  The kingdom would survive without her; in fact, it had to, because she knew nothing would ever make her return, force her to take on a responsibility she never asked for nor wanted.

Only five more miles to the border, she thought.  Then I can start over, be whoever I want to be.

By the time she reached the marker for Gu, she could barely stay upright, having taken as little rations with her as she dared.  She wandered across, hoping some small border town would be close by where she could eat, maybe get some rest.  After another few miles some buildings started to pop up, small cottages and what looked like a market and an inn.  The girl squinted at the prices on the inn’s sign, trying to remember the conversion rate of the currency she’d brought with her.

“Hey!  I saw you come in to town; you look a little lost.  Can I help you find anything?”

The girl realized the voice was talking to her, and turned to see a boy about her age, maybe seventeen, tall with shaggy brown hair, looking at her curiously.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the boy said.  “It’s just… you seem to be having a little trouble reading the sign and I-I’m uhh... pretty good with numbers; I could help you, if you’d like?”

“Oh umm… yes… p-please… thank you.”

The boy walked closer, the girl showing him the money she had so he could count out the equivalent of the price.  “So, is your family visiting from Miroh?”

The girl balked at his perceptiveness.  Despite all her planning, she hadn’t thought about what she would tell anyone when they asked for her story.  She tried to come up with something quickly, stumbling over her words.  “Umm no, m-my parents are… they’re uhh… they died.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry to hear that,” the boy said, looking at her sympathetically, and the girl felt like he really meant it.

“Well, umm, here’s what you’ll need for a night’s stay here,” he continued, handing her back the money.  “If you want I can show you a good place to eat that’s close by; you look like you could use a hearty meal.”

Despite knowing him for all of two minutes, the boy seemed trustworthy.  And he was right, she could definitely use some nourishment.

“That sounds nice,” she answered.

“Great!” the boy said, stepping down from the inn’s doorstep and walking towards the village center, the girl following.  “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.  What’s your name?”

“My name’s Julietta.”

Revelations  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You awoke, startling for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings until you remembered what had happened the previous night.  Smiling to yourself, you turned in the sheets, expecting to see Chan laying beside you, but you were met with emptiness on his side of the bed.  You frowned, scooting over and feeling the spot still warm from his body.

He must have only just left, you thought.

You glanced over and noticed a small note sitting on his bedside table, letters written in his artful penmanship.  You picked it up, eyes running over the words.

Good morning my love.  How I wished to have you wake up in my arms, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.  I’ve gone to speak with my father about something, and when I return, the whole kingdom will be able to hear my name spoken by your beautiful voice. 

A wave of dread washed over your entire body, threatening to pin you to the spot where you sat.

Chan knew his father could be cold, knew he was a callous man who cared for little more than his own self-interest and what he deemed acceptable.  But you knew he’d always believed maybe he could change the king, could open his heart to the same degree Chan and his mother had shared.  You, however, never saw the man through such rose-colored glasses, having been the recipient of his threats and intimidation too many times to believe he could be redeemed.  And your beloved prince was about to find out the true depths of his father’s loathing towards the relationship you shared.

You sprung into action, body moving without thinking as you dressed in last night’s clothes and ran from his chambers, heading to the throne room.  Maybe you could reach him in time, spare him the pain of hearing his father’s rejection.  You’d have to convince him you didn’t want to bring your relationship public, and he’d be hurt, devastated, but it would be nothing compared to the anguish of what he was about to bring on himself.  Or the punishment he was about to unknowingly inflict on you.

Chan was nowhere to be seen in any of the hallways leading to the throne room.  Your feet moved faster, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen.  But when you burst through the thick oak doors, you saw Chan kneeling at his father’s feet.  Both men looked up to face you, Chan’s expression one of blissful optimism, his father’s one of knowing anticipation.

You were too late.

“Hello, Y/n,” the king said darkly, mouth morphing into a sneer.  “You already know what he’s asked me, don’t you?”

“Your Majesty… please...”

You shuddered at the sound of your own voice, tone betraying your agony, your fear.

“You never told him, did you?” he questioned, the trace of pity in his voice making you all the more uneasy.

“How could I?” you sighed.

The king nodded contentedly, then motioned for the guards on either side of you.  You felt their hands capture your arms, body going all but slack in their hold.  You couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore.

Chan had stood up and was now looking frantically between you and his father.  “What is the meaning of this?!” he asked, tone laced with bewilderment and shock.

“I’m sorry Chris,” you murmured, heart breaking at the look on his face.

“Christopher,” King Bang said, standing and approaching his son, “do not fear.  I will take care of this disobedient whore and then you will be free of her influence.  I should have never let her remain for as long as I did, look what it has done to you, my ingenuous boy.”

You felt it, the moment Chan realized what his father was implying.  His whole body shifted, backing away from Geun as he spoke, voice void of emotion.

“What did you just say?”

For once the king seemed genuinely surprised, eyebrows raising and voice the tiniest bit unsteady as he answered, “I-I mean, certainly that’s the only reason you would ever come to me with this request.  Clearly this woman has convinced you to denounce what I’ve taught you about tradition, about knowing one’s place, through what means I dare not say; but I don’t blame you Chris, this is my fault.”

Chan stopped moving then, having almost reached your side.  His face contorted into an expression of dismay, of grief, as he shouted.

“Are you really so ignorant, so far removed from reality, that you think my actions are a sign of disloyalty?!  Of neglecting my responsibilities?!  Because they are nothing of the sort.  And even if they were, Y/n would not be responsible for convincing me to do anything.  Your outdated principles and misguided sense of your own virtuosity could have done that on their own!  You were blind to a plot happening in your own palace because of your desire to have me bend to your will, but I won’t let you do it anymore.”

He turned, ordering the guards, “Release her, now!”

“You will do no such thing,” the king’s enraged voice rang out.  “Christopher, you will never get my permission for this.”

He turned back to Geun, eyes furious but voice calm.

“I was not asking, father.  I will marry her.  And I am not betraying you, or our kingdom, or our traditions.  And I’m not doing it because she seduced me.  I’m doing this because I love her.  Because she supports me, and cares for me, and knows our people intimately, probably better than I do.  And because, for my whole life, she has been the only person besides Mother who has ever truly loved me for who I am.  So you’ll have to throw me in prison too if you intend to stop me, because I refuse to be here without her.”

“No!” you yelled, straining against your captors, energy rushing back to your body at his words.  “No, Chris please, you have to let me go!  I’m so grateful we had last night; it was the best night of my life and always will be.  I knew the consequences I might face, and getting to tell you how much I love you was worth every one, but you were never supposed to suffer because of me.  I can’t let you do this.”

Your pleas were interrupted by a herald entering the room.

“Your Majesty - “

‘WHAT?!” King Bang whirled on him, outrage blatantly evident on his face.

While the king was distracted, Chan shoved the guards away from you and took your shaking form into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.  “Y/n, you’ve protected me and sacrificed for me my entire life.  Let me be the one who takes care of you now.”

His whispers stopped when you heard the announcement of the herald.

“His Majesty King Peter Soleil of Miroh is here with his wife, Queen Margaery, as well as one of our palace servants, Julietta, Your Majesty.  They are insisting on an audience with you.”

“Your mother?” Chan questioned, meeting your equally confused face with his own.

The king glanced to where the pair of you stood, rolling his eyes obnoxiously.  “Fine, bring them in.  Let these two have their last embrace before I rid us of her presence.”

The herald opened the doors, and there stood your mother, dressed in a beautiful gown you could tell was made for royalty.  She entered, followed closely by the king and queen of Miroh.  You’d seen them a few times over the years at various palace functions.  They seemed like steadfast and benevolent leaders, reflected in their small kingdom’s reputation for nonviolence and generosity.  In fact, the only turmoil you could remember them being involved in was the disappearance of the crown princess, several years before you were even born.  Not much was known about the circumstances of the disappearance, but it was said the king and queen had never given up hope of finding her.

They came to a stop in the middle of the room, the sovereigns flanking your mother.  Looking at the three of them, you couldn’t deny the resemblance of your mother to the elder two people, and a memory stirred in the back of your mind.

“King Peter, Queen Margaery,” King Bang addressed them tersely, “I would say I am pleased to see you but I am at this moment engaged in a personal matter and would like very much to return to it.  If you could please explain why you have one of my palace servants here with you playing dress up, I would appreciate your cooperation.”

“Certainly,” came King Soleil’s placid reply.  “We are here on a personal matter as well, one that Julietta, and indeed Y/n, are involved in.”

Chan’s arms tensed around you, preparing to defend you against any allegation, any harm or threat or danger to your wellbeing.  But, as had happened once before in that very room, no one was prepared for what the Mirohan king said.

“You see, Julietta is our daughter.  Almost thirty years ago, she left our kingdom, because she felt trapped in a life we had not prepared her for.  Her mother and I should have supported her, should have taught her to confide in us, but we were very different people then, and different rulers too.  We would have done what you are attempting to do to your son, forced her to betray her own self to mold to our will.  However, when she left, we saw how wrong we were, and vowed to do better.  Now, Julietta has come back into our lives for the sake of her daughter, our granddaughter, Y/n.”

Every set of eyes in the room was trained on you, your own frozen wide in disbelief at what was happening.  King Bang seemed to be at a loss for words, having fallen back into his seat on the throne.  Your mother left her parents’ side and walked to you, smiling tentatively.  Chan reluctantly released his hold on you as she took your hand and brought you to stand with her away from the others.

“My dear, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, and I am sorry, so very truly sorry for never telling you,” she said quietly.  “But I was ashamed… When I ran away, I did what I thought I needed to do at the time.  Looking back it may have been reckless, irresponsible and selfish even.  But most importantly, it had been my choice.  And I took that from you, the ability to choose what path you wanted in life.  I thought we would be better off away from the life I grew up in, and for a while we were, with your father.  But when he died, I was adrift and had no idea what to do and somehow we ended up back in a palace and at the whim of an arrogant king, but this time without even an inkling of the power I once held.  I thought about returning with you to my parents then, but how could I be sure you wouldn’t resent me for forcing you into the life I had tried so desperately to escape?  I struggled with my choice for years, until eventually I saw that you were happy with your training with the prince, getting to do all the things you used to do with your father that would have been scorned had you been the one in the boy’s position.  But then I saw the signs of your feelings for him, your realization of the insurmountable barriers that would prevent you from being together, the way you resigned yourself to unhappiness.  I knew I could do something about it, but I had to be sure you were ready to accept the responsibilities that would come with having the ability to be with the man you loved.”

You looked up at her, recalling your conversation at the coronation, and she nodded.  “I am sure now.  Which is why I went back to Miroh, back to my parents and the position I despised a lifetime ago.  Because if I can give you the ability to make this one choice, maybe I can make up for all the other mistakes in my life.”

“Mother... “ you started, wanting to tell her you understood her choices, that you didn’t think they were all a mistake, but were quieted by her hand on your cheek.

“I know you are quick to forgive, just like your father, but let me take responsibility for this.”

You looked back at your grandparents.

“They won’t force you to accept,” Julietta said.  “That was my one condition.”

Your head was spinning with the onslaught of new information.  Searching the room, your gaze locked with Chan’s, reading the utter adoration in his eyes that you knew mirrored your own.  You knew his father would never accept your relationship at your current status.  And despite feeling confident you wanted a chance to make an impact as a ruler, you didn’t know everything about what it would mean to take on this responsibility.  But there was one thing you were absolutely certain of.

You turned back to your mother, squeezing her hand.  “Thank you.”

She led you back to the group, your hand linking with Chan’s as you came to stand beside him and your grandparents.

“We are aware of the young people’s affection for each other…” King Soleil began, but King Bang seemed to have recovered himself enough to realize what the other was about to say.

“That girl will NOT marry my son!”

“Geun,” your grandfather warned, “that girl is my granddaughter, a Mirohan princess.  I strongly suggest you watch your tone when you speak about her in front of me, or anywhere for that matter.  Now, it was already quite unreasonable to want to prevent your son from marrying a woman he loves, but it would be wholly irrational of you to deny a match for the prince to the heir apparent to the throne of Miroh, wouldn’t you say?”

You stood up straighter, feeling Chan’s hand tighten around yours.

The king was silent for a while, but finally gave an acquiescent sigh.  “Very well.”

The two of you smiled but kept your composure, bowing to the king and turning to your grandparents.  They pulled you both in for a hug as you thanked them, saying they were eager to get to know their new grandchildren, and your heart skipped a beat at those words.  You didn’t hear anything else after that, your focus entirely mesmerized by Chan who was pulling you towards the door, your pace quickening before breaking into a run as you left the castle, heading for the stables.  You rounded the building first, then felt him reach around your waist as he gathered you in his arms and spun you around, laughing his brilliant laugh and pulling you close to him as he placed you back on the ground by the pond.

“Does this mean I have to call you “Your Highness” now?” he asked, giggling at your stunned face from the use of the term.

You playfully put your hands up to shove him, but he captured them in his own, kissing your knuckles and bringing your palms to rest on his chest.  You could feel his heart beating as you knelt your head to meet his and heard his soft voice ask.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

You had never been happier to say yes.

Epilogue  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 year later

You were standing in front of the mirror, your mother behind you pinning your hair into an extravagant twist when a joking voice came from the door.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  You turned to see the smiling face of the queen of Lajor.

“Korenna!” you exclaimed, dancing happily in place, too afraid to move while your mother continued her styling as your friend came to sit next to you.

“You look stunning, Y/n, truly.  Chris is going to lose it when he sees you.”

Chris, your mind echoed lovingly.  You’re marrying Chris today.

“And how come I don’t get a hello from my favorite little princess?” you teased.

“Paige is a bit preoccupied practicing her petal tossing abilities with her Uncle Felix,” her sister responded.  “She definitely has the upper hand in technique, but I’m not sure who looked cuter in the flower crown.”

“Speaking of flower crowns,” your mother said, turning you to face her, “Chris left this for you.”

You looked down at her hands where she held a sealed letter, on top of which rested a single wildflower.

Your mother saw the tears prick in your eyes and started to gather up her things, motioning to Korenna.  “Let’s give Y/n a moment before the ceremony while we - Oh! Your Majesty, my apologies, I didn’t see you there.”

You turned to see King Bang milling awkwardly at the entrance of the room.  Putting the gift from Chan down, you ushered your mother and Korenna out then came to sit in front of his father.

The two of you had avoided each other as much as possible over the last year, which hadn’t exactly been hard since you had moved with your mother to Miroh to catch up on all the instruction you’d missed these past twenty-three years.  You’d seen him at the Four Kingdom Competition and at various dinners and balls, but Chan always made it a point to keep you as far away from him as possible.  You weren’t going to complain about it to your fiance, but you’d almost wished he’d let the two of you talk, tension clearly still lingering between you.  And though this visit was unexpected, considering you were going to be family after today, now seemed just as good a time as any.

“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Actually, Y/n, I-I came here to apologize,” the king said, his voice sounding almost as taken aback as you felt.  “I have spent my whole life avoiding saying that phrase, but I realize now you are one of the few people I feel I really must say it to.”  He took a deep breath before he continued.  “I’m sorry for the death of your father, I’m sorry for my insults and threats over the years, and I’m sorry for trying to keep you and Christopher from being together.  I had no right to try to do that, whether you were noble-born or not.”  He paused, and you could tell it was getting harder for him to keep his voice steady.  “After my wife died… I had this blind rage I felt towards everyone, but especially towards you, and when I finally took the time to analyze it, I realized I had been jealous.  Jealous of your skill and your talent, but mostly jealous of my son’s devotion to you.  This year has shown me that I was wrong to think his love for you would turn him away from me or his responsibilities; in fact, his happiness at being with you has only strengthened our relationship and made him a more present, more thoughtful ruler.  So I came to apologize, and to thank you for bringing the light back to my son’s eyes.”

You were stunned, but grateful, and the king seemed to read that in the expression on your face.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, “I just wanted you to know.”

You stopped him before he could leave, placing a hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door, leaving you alone.  You turned your attention back to the envelope on the desk and gently opened it, unfolding the paper in one hand and holding the blossom in the other.

Y/n,

Since the beginning, my love for you has grown like the roots of a flower.  Even on this day, we are but tiny buds, only just beginning to sprout.  I look forward to every day we’ll spend in the garden, tending to our love until we reach full bloom.  And just as flowers slowly fade, may we grow old together, enjoying the memories of those sunny days when we used to ride through the meadows we planted.  Know that my love for you will remain long after our petals are reclaimed by the earth, my beautiful wildflower.

Yours forever,

Chris

You held back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, placed the flower in your hair behind your ear with trembling hands, and walked out to meet your mother standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

She took your arm in hers as you made your way to the aisle.  You saw Minho and Felix on the right, both grinning from ear to ear, and Korenna and Paige on the left, the younger’s sparkling dress and tiny braid matching the elder’s.  And in the center you saw Chan, looking to be on the verge of tears, but his blinding smile on full display.  Your mother walked you to him, your gown glinting in the light of the setting sun.  He took your hand in his and held it while the priest recited the hymns and blessed your marriage, pronouncing you husband and wife.

Later, while the celebration was in full swing inside the ballroom, the two of you made your way out to the balcony.  He took you into his arms, both of you swaying to the music floating out on the breeze.

“You look breathtaking tonight,” Chan whispered.

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness,” you responded, wiggling your eyebrows at the term he used to hate, recalling the conversation you’d had the first time you shared a dance on the balcony.

“I know,” he said smiling, catching on to your words.  “I wanted to tell you again.”

You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him before whispering, “We’re married.”

“I know that too,” he responded, the two of you giggling and bringing your foreheads together.  He reached up to tuck your hair that had come loose behind your ear, revealing the flower, and you let the feeling of peace wash over you, knowing you had a lifetime together.

“I love you, Chris.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

{end}

[ladybugout-au]

Ivan closed the door to his room, then opened his pocket to let Wayzz free. They both knew that Wayzz could just phase through the pocket if he wanted to, but it was a mutual gesture of respect between them.

"I was watching the footage on LadyBugOut's archive," Wayzz said as he flew a small distance away, facing Ivan with a smile. "You did well."

"You think?" Ivan grinned and rubbed the back of his head, growing sheepish at the praise.

Wayzz nodded. "The want to protect others is our strong point. Have you done it before?"

Ivan shook his head, walking over to take a seat on his bed. "No, I never had superpowers until I got this."

"Not that," Wayzz said with a chuckle. He flew over to the little area Ivan had set up for him - a little crudely done but made with love all the same - then sat down and got comfortable. Spreading his arms out, he then explained, "Being a turtle means much more than protecting people. We protect hearts as well."

Ivan genuinely considered that. He supposed it made sense, as Ladybug could fix things emotionally with no use of Miraculous Ladybug needed. Likewise, Chat Noir—

...actually, that was best not thought about.

Shaking his head, he returned to the root of the topic, replying, "I guess Mylene says I'm good at cheering her up?"

"Yes, it's like that." Wayzz smiled approvingly. "We aren't limited to Shell-ter."

Ivan nodded, but frowned as he realized, "I don't know if I'm as good at it now when I'm busy being a hero."

He was referring to Mylene.

Wayzz smiled sadly, getting up and floating over to rest on Ivan's shoulder. "We can't be perfect everywhere," he said, lightly patting Ivan's neck in reassurance.

Ivan glanced over at him, but didn't respond. He'd been a hero for a while, but it still felt unreal to him. He stared down at the disguised bracelet, idly running his fingers along the thread around his wrist as he admitted, "But I still don't get why I got picked?"

It was more idle curiosity than outright self-consciousness. He didn't doubt his abilities, obviously, as he was aware that every hero had their strengths and weaknesses. Being part of the team, it was inevitable to start seeing the flaws of every team member, so he wasn't singling himself out. At the same time though, he couldn't help wondering what had made him special. He was the first ever akuma, and even in the movie he'd shot with the class, he was the monster, not Mylene's charming love interest. That wasn't to say he didn't have a presence, but people often considered it to be a bad one.

Even though his statement had been casual, Wayzz seemed to think about it like it was serious. Ivan leaned back on the bed, his hands on the mattress to support himself as he waited for an answer.

"...One thing about heroes," Wayzz began, "is that they're not always who you expect. I've had many turtles in my lifetime, and not all of them seemed fit for the role. They all got chosen for different reasons, because turtles aren't decided by their personality alone. There are always different things that have to be taken into consideration."

Ivan tilted his head to the side. "Really?"

Wayzz nodded. "Your impressive bulk wouldn't be as useful if the rest of your teammates were built in the same way. There have been small turtles who were fit for the job because of who they were fighting and the teammates they were meant to protect." Looking up at Ivan, he then added, "You do well at protecting others, and your features balance out the team."

Ivan understood, even though it was hard to imagine "other turtles" beyond Carapace, and the mental image made him unable to help asking, "What about the other one?"

Of course, he could've had no idea that Wayzz had another turtle that he had no knowledge of, but Wayzz was aware of it, so he focused on Carapace.

"The turtle then - really, all of the temporary heroes - were chosen for being at the right place at the right time. They did their job well enough, but it was a matter of convenience. They fit their miraculouses enough to do their job, and being chosen afterward was for their experience. They were never intended to be permanent."

"Oh." That made sense, Ivan supposed. It was like their costumes Marinette had made for the band's audition as Kitty Section; they'd served their purpose at the time of making an impression, but they'd never been meant for them to be their permanent ones, especially considering the time crunch.

"Are you happy?" Wayzz asked suddenly, like something had just occurred to him.

Ivan blinked, not understanding.

"With being a hero," Wayzz clarified. He flew off of Ivan's shoulder, descending upon the little box of tea that he always seemed so fond of. He ran his paw along the surface, not doing anything in particular, but seeming to reminisce. "We want our holders to be happy with themselves. We know it's not always fair to suddenly give someone a miraculous."

Ivan didn't have to think about it too hard. While it could be a little disappointing whenever he had to run off on Mylene or his other friends, he also knew that he was doing good work and was helping keep Paris safe.

"Yeah, I'm happy," he replied. Then, after a moment of thought, he asked in return, "What about you?"

Wayzz seemed surprised to be asked such a question. He looked down at the little tea box again, resting both paws on it, then smiled faintly. "I am. You're not like any of my other holders, but that's not a bad thing."

Ivan smiled back, then focused on the little box of tea that Wayzz was still hovering over. Ivan pushed himself off the bed, then hunched over, pointing to the box in question. "Do you want some?"

Wayzz looked up at him, then back down at the box. Ivan had been taught enough about tea - thanks to Wayzz himself - to know how to make it for him, so it wasn't an unusual thing for him to ask, but Wayzz had never actually used the tea in that particular box before.

"Oh," Wayzz finally said after a moment. "...Yes, I—I think I do." He glanced up at Ivan again, asking, "Would you like to join me?"

Ivan frowned in thought, almost feeling like he was intruding on something personal. He'd never had tea with Wayzz before. "Uh, okay, but I don't know how I'd want it."

"That's alright!" Wayzz said, perking up as he flew up to Ivan's face. "We can experiment with similar tea first. There are many different ways to flavor it, and with the right combination, I'm sure we can figure out what you like; sugar, honey, milk, there are a lot of options. You know, one of my previous holders—"

Wayzz floated happily towards the door, continuing to ramble, and Ivan smiled genuinely while carefully picking up the box of tea. He remembered how sad Wayzz used to be when they first met, but even though Wayzz still grew quiet at times, he was happy now.

They both were.

[justcourttee]

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

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

Average

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

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

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

Specifically, one insufferable bitch named Lila Rossi.

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

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

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

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

Still here?

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

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

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

Adrien Agreste.

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

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

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

My eyes snapped shut as I took a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The same pattern repeated itself every day for weeks.

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

Lila Rossi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any guesses?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I walked home alone again.

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm, girl, drop him now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So can you do it or not?”

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

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

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

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

Now I knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her enthusiasm was sickening.

“But Lila, you don’t like me-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kim-Get. Your. Arm. Off. Me. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I said-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this okay Marinette?”

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

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

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

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

“So, like a date..right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, that would be the best time.

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

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

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

“And why would he do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck is this?”

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

“Leave it be Wayne.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, the only thing that mattered was finding-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this real?”

“It is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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