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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

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I love you (not) - Chapter 12

Today on I love you (not), Adrienette makes an appearance and our dearest protagonists have feeling epiphanies. We're only halfway through the fic though, so everything isn't solved. After the mutually unrequited half, we're about to enter the pining half. Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

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Chapter 12: In which youuuu can feeeeel the loveeee toniiiight

Marinette’s gaze wandered around the room as she sipped on her sparkling apple juice, her foot absentmindedly tapping to the beat of the music. The party was in full swing, and so far, everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

Her classmates were laughing, even Chloé and Lila (separately, of course), hanging out in small groups around the buffet, or showing off their moves on the dancefloor. No sign of an Akuma anywhere. Everything was perfect.

A slight frown creased Marinette’s forehead as she realised that there was one person whom she hadn’t seen yet, and she was starting to wonder what was keeping him when she sensed a presence behind her.

"Hey, Marinette." Adrien almost managed to sneak up on her, but he was less discrete than Chat Noir. She turned around, a bright smile gracing her lips. There he was.

Adrien's breath caught as he took in exactly how pretty Marinette looked in her dress. He’d known she'd been bound to look good in it; firstly, because Marinette was always pretty, it was an undeniable fact; secondly, the dress had been very pretty on the mannequin, too, so really it would have been a feat for it not to be nice when worn.

Yet nothing could've prepared him for the synergistic effect of both, the garment falling gracefully on her, hugging her in all the right places.

"You look... Amazing, did you make that dress yourself?" He blushed as he averted his gaze to meet her eyes. He noticed she was wearing her hair half up, which really was a lovely look on her.

"Thanks, and yes," Marinette's cheeks pinked as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I was aiming to not be overdressed, but..." Her eyes went back to the open space. Adrien saw that even though a couple of their classmates had thrown on a blazer, most had showed up in their usual attire.

"You're perfect." He smiled, before tutting. "The others are underdressed. We had a planned party for once, and yet... Really, people could have made a bit more of an effort."

Marinette turned towards him. Adrien’s hands were casually buried in his pockets. He wasn’t wearing his usual jeans, but a suit, darker than the one she’d always seen him wear. "At least you seem to have gotten the memo. New suit?"

"Good eye. It's part of Father's next collection." He grinned.

"We're so lucky to get an exclusive preview." Her hand hovered midway between them, hesitant to touch the fabric.

"It's not entirely benevolent, though. I'm supposed to crash test it, to see if it withstands being worn." He adjusted his cufflinks. "Actually, would you do me the honour of dancing with me? Purely for experimental purposes, obviously." He bowed before her and winked.

"Of course." She giggled at his antics, an odd feeling of déjà vu nagging at her. She knew she was talking to Adrien, and yet… There was something about him tonight that made her think of a certain someone else. She brushed the thought away, blaming it on the dark suit, as she put her glass down and took his hand, following him to the dancefloor.

Adrien caught Nino's eye, and the latter nodded at him with a wide smile. He made an ok sign before changing the track.

“Time to shake things up in here, time to get a little rock’n roll!” he announced in his best DJ voice.

“Up for the challenge?” Adrien asked Marinette.

She nodded, mentally thanking Chat Noir for the refresher course he’d given her. He really had her back whatever the situation, huh?

They started swinging their arms to the rhythm; she remembered to trace hearts in the air to show professionalism. Then the rhythm picked up, and the show really started.

Adrien picked up the pace and Marinette smoothly followed, starting with easy figures; twirl in, twirl out, half-waltz, yoyo, hand exchange, double stroke. People looked on curiously as Marinette cocked an eyebrow at Adrien, daring him to level it up.

He smirked and lifted her briefly, resumed a couple of simple passes, then, as she spun back into his embrace, he dipped her. Somebody (probably Alya), hooted in the crowd.

“Ready for a flip?” He was slightly breathless, his hair a little dishevelled.

Marinette’s heart was beating quite fast and although she was flushed, she knew it was just from the exercise. The thought rattled her a bit.

“Show me what you got, Agreste.” She put on her most confident smile and he pulled her up. His hands dropped to her waist and he lifted her, throwing her in the air. Her flight lasted a couple of seconds, during which she didn’t hear their audience’s gasps, and then she was back in Adrien’s strong arms, cushioning her landing.

Cheers erupted around them as the song faded out, and they remained embraced, slightly panting from the dance.

“That was amazing, Marinette,” Adrien whispered in her ear, with a slightly disbelieving chuckle. He’d managed to catch her without the Miraculous suit’s help. The doubt had invaded his mind just as she’d left his arms, and he hoped she never knew how terrified he’d been of dropping her.

“Yeah,” she panted.

Suddenly the guitar solo of Toto’s Won't hold you back now echoed through the restaurant.

Adrien’s eyes met Nino’s, and his friend winked at him. A crazy idea crossed his mind. He’d enjoyed his time with Marinette so much over the past months. Dating her as Chat Noir was definitely a bad idea and he definitely had to put an end to it, but what if… What if he asked her out as Adrien? Yes, there’d still be that massive secret hanging between them, that he moonlit as one of Paris’ superheroes. But being on the other side of the mask, the one that got to talk to her every day without having to make up excuses as to why he was at her balcony, that could just turn around in his seat to tell her how beautiful she was, would make things so much easier.

If she’d fallen in love with Chat Noir, she’d technically already be in love with him, although he’d of course pull all the stops to make sure she felt as cherished as she deserved, and do his best to conceal the fact that her ex and her present boyfriend were actually the same person. He couldn’t deny that he’d thought about Marinette more than he’d had about Ladybug lately. This was the perfect opportunity to move on from his partner.

"Hey, it's our song." He commented, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

"O-our?" Marinette stammered, pulling away slightly from him.

"The one we danced to at Chloé's last party, remember?" He felt his cheeks warm up at the thought that he might have spoken out of turn, or worse, that she might have forgotten, when the memory regularly invaded his dreams. She’d seemed almost shocked at his choice of words.

"Oh, right." She gave him a small smile before moving a little closer to him.

It wasn’t exactly to snuggle up to him, although she supposed it probably looked like it, given Alya’s enthusiastic thumbs up she caught as they danced; she just needed to hide her face from him. Adrien led their steps, which was just as well since her overthinking brain was too busy trying to compute his words.

Was he... Making a move on her? She looked up and their eyes locked, his gaze softening as they did. He twirled her before catching her, holding her a little closer than before. She didn't mind.

Then he unexpectedly dipped her, and looked as if he was about to say something to her. His eyes were full of affection, like hers in almost all of the pictures of her looking at him that had been taken before a couple of months ago. She could almost feel the virtual pink bubbles that surrounded her.

She paled.

Maybe she was finally getting what she'd wanted since the first real conversation they'd had. Maybe this was it . But then why did it feel so… wrong? Why did her heart tell her to bolt? Why did she want to be in Chat Noir's arms at that precise moment?

"Marinette? Is everything ok?" Adrien pulled her up, a worried frown creasing his brow.

"It's just a bit warm, I haven't eaten much today. I'll just go and grab something from the buffet." She waved in its direction, putting up a brave smile to conceal her rattled state. What was it with Chat Noir invading her thoughts tonight? She needed to get a grip.

"Want me to come with you?" He really looked concerned, and she felt bad for worrying him.

"I’ll be fine, thanks. Keep testing out your suit." She patted his shoulder gently before heading off.

He watched her walk away, slightly disconcerted. He'd felt so confident that he'd be able to reproduce the unadulterated joy his friend had displayed when they'd danced in her room, yet somehow he seemed to have gone a step too far.

But then again... Maybe it all boiled down to who she'd been with then (well, who she’d known she was with).

He knew it wasn't a good idea. But he had to check his theory. His heart commanded it.

---

Marinette tried her best to act like a wallflower next to the buffet, something that might have worked better if she hadn't undisputedly been the prettiest girl in the room, and if she'd been standing near an actual wall and not a bay window. Those were Chat Noir's thoughts, anyway, as he watched her from outside, perched on his baton, holding back from knocking on the closest window just to see her sway gently to the rhythm of the music.

Then he saw her nibbling at her nails, confirming that something was troubling her.

She must have sensed that she was being watched, because she turned around before his fist could tap on the window. Their eyes met, and for a second she looked slightly surprised, a little taken aback, even, by his presence, before a smile bloomed on her lips. He could have sworn that she was relieved. He wished that he could've taken a picture of her at that exact moment.

“You really felt like you needed to patrol tonight?” She asked as she opened the window for him.

“Well, I know they say that the mice dance when the cat’s away, but this cat felt like it was missing out.” He pointed to himself and pouted.

“Poor kitty.” She scratched his neck. He almost let out a purr, but managed to hold it in.

“Anyway, I see a mouse that isn’t dancing, and I’d argue that’s a criminal offence.” He shot her a pointed look.

“It’s not like I haven’t danced already.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know that we were quite a success.”

“I know, I was there.” He winked.

She looked at her feet sheepishly, and he regretted his choice of words. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking, I think the rooftop’s empty, would you like to get out of here, maybe?”

“Please.” She grabbed a chair and helped herself up, climbing out of the window after checking nobody was looking. Chat pushed the window pane shut after she’d gotten on his lap and extended his baton upwards, letting go of her when they’d reached the top floor.

Marinette took a deep breath as she leaned on the railing, looking at the view. Dark, warning clouds had gathered on the horizon, but she only saw the full moon, standing unobstructed in the sky and reflecting in the pool.

The music was faintly audible from below. Marinette shuffled around to face Chat Noir.

“So… Since you were complaining about this mouse not dancing… How about you right that wrong?”

“‘Twould be my pleasure, princess.” He took her hand and guided her out.

“A waltz?” Marinette raised an eyebrow after the first couple of steps. “I thought they were passées .”

“I wouldn’t want you to have practised for nothing,” he said softly. “Plus, nobody’s here to judge us for being old-fashioned.”

She let out a content sigh as he gently pressed his cheek to her temple (they couldn’t dance cheek to cheek even with her kitten heels). She closed her eyes and revelled in the moment.

Gently swaying in the moonlight, Chat humming along to the music ( La vie en rose, probably a request from Juleka), it was like time had stopped, and she wished they could stay in this perfect bubble forever, one where she didn’t have to question her feelings, where she could just enjoy the moment.

Marinette felt something light land on her shoulder. Then on her nose.

Chat must have felt it too, because they both looked up. The moon was gone, hidden by stormy clouds. The rain’s pace picked up. They looked at each other, Marinette’s gaze questioning what they should do.

Chat Noir purred, afraid she’d let go of him. Marinette let out a crystalline laugh, an exquisite sound he knew he’d never grow tired of hearing.

She held him closer, eyes fluttering shut once more as she smiled, her cheek pressed to his chest, enjoying the gentle vibrations.

This was it. She was right where she wanted to be.

#marichat #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marichatmay2021 #marichat may #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #adrienette #adrinette #adrien agreste #day 15: moonlight #day 16: purring #elle writes #love you (not)

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makeitcanoncowards · 4 years

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Your Lipstick Stain is a Work of Art [Nicky Valentino x MC]

Nicky Valentino x Fem!Reader

Literally no one requested this, but I just had to do it. I am in love with this man. Also If you like this you should go follow my friend @hurtbycanonthoughts! She takes requests and posts writing for Obey Me, Mystic Messenger, Cinderella Phenomenon, Two Against the World, Love Island the Game, and more! I love her lots, so go show her some love too :D Here’s her masterlist

Summary: You get a little more familiar with makeup in the 20s, and Nicky finds himself really liking the look of you in red lipstick. Bonus: Lipstick marks on his cheek are his no.1 soft spot. Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive but not really like at all.

You’ve been in 1920’s New York for almost two months now and were still trying to acclimate to the fashion of the era. Certain styles you’ve had a harder time working yourself up to wear (like tights every day, why every day?), and others you just haven’t gotten around to trying out. But all in all, you were pretty pleased with your new 20th century wardrobe. The skirts and dresses you wore were extremely durable and actually surprisingly flattering. The iconic boxy cut that you heard so much about in your high school history classes proved to be beautiful on all body types, something you appreciated greatly.

One afternoon, while Nicky was dealing with some business that he didn’t want you there for, you were free to meander around the city – Even do a little shopping, thanks to the way your coin purse was spoiled by your boyfriend.

As you passed by a fancy boutique during your afternoon adventure, you were immediately drawn in. Stopping to stare, you gazed at the fresh paint that adorned the windows, advertising the makeup they sold inside. While also taking notice of the boutique’s patrons flowing in and out. All the women that entered looked as though they ate gold for breakfast and had hundred-dollar bills for lunch. They oozed an aura of wealth and you began doubting your place in their store. You could afford anything you wanted in there and more, sure, but the sheer confidence that radiated from them was a little intimidating. You feared they’d smell your inferiority from a mile away.

It took a quick mental pep talk – and a lap or two around the block – to convince yourself to enter the store. Gipping onto your purse just a little tighter, you braved the crowd of posh women gliding through the entrance and slipped in as well.

“Hello!” A young girl at a counter with makeup fixtures littering it greeted, “How may I help you today?”

“I’m just looking around, actually.” You stated, glancing back around the interior, “I’ve never been in this store before.”

“Well, might I just suggest you take a look at our makeup collection. It’s what we’re most well-known for anyways.” The shop girl’s smile was dazzling, though probably painful considering how wide it was and how long she was holding it.

You took a step next to the counter and watched as the girl pointed out some products. Everything seemed pretty standard, except for the block of charcoal that doubled as mascara, and nothing was really catching your eye until-

“What do you think of this for me?” You picked up a golden tube of red lipstick with roses engraved into the casing.

“The Ruby Red?” She glanced at the color and back to you, scanning her eyes over your face. “I’d go for something a little deeper, personally. The bright colors are nice and all, but all the women in movies are wearing darker colors. I think you’d pull that off, you look like you’re straight outta’ve a film.”

You chuckled at her statement. She wasn’t wrong, technically. “I’ll take the color you suggest, then.”

She grinned at you before pulling out a tube nearly identical to the first from behind the counter, “This shade is called ‘Forever Red’ by Besame cosmetics, D’you wanna try it on before you go?”

“I’ll take a preview,” You agreed and puckered your lips for the girl to apply it. She slid the lipstick carefully over your lips, the creamy texture felt similar to a chapstick you used to wear, and it made you oddly nostalgic.

“Wow, it looks even better than I thought it would!” She clapped her hands together once she finished, “You look better than Bebe Daniels did in this shade!”

“You think so?” You asked, astonished. Turning to look in the little mirror sitting to the left of you, okay yea. You looked good. “Y’know what, I think I’ll take it.”

Giddily, you grabbed your tiny giftbag with your lipstick and went back to your hotel room for the night. Nicky had promised he would be there to take you out for dinner, and you wanted to surprise him with a bit of red added to your look.

<><><>

You had just finished slipping on your silk – or was it satin, you couldn’t be sure – dress over your tights and undergarments; hair and makeup already done. You took a moment to fumble with the zipper on your gown but weren’t able to zip it up completely. After struggling for a good few minutes after your initial attempt, you blew out a frustrated puff of air and looked at your reflection in the vanity you were sat in front of.

All-in-all, you looked good. You took extra care of your hair tonight. It was gelled to perfection, not a single frizz out of place. And your makeup – it took you nearly double the time it used to, but the time commitment was worth it. The dark red lip that you just bought contrasted with the silver and black on your eyelids and stood out against your gown. Said gown was a silky (or satin-y) pearl color that had a wrapped bodice. Fairly simple. Extremely elegant. It was something Nicky bought you and you adored it.

Taking your time fixing invisible imperfections, you hadn’t noticed Nicky enter your room or the way he had to bite back a chuckle as you bared your teeth at your reflection to insure you didn’t have lipstick marks littering your pearly whites.

You only acknowledged his presence when he cleared his throat and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the intrusion. You whipped around, preparing for the worst since you were not exactly in the right state to fend off an attacker.

“Motherfuc- Nicky!” You slapped a hand over your heart when you realized who it was, “You tryna give me a heart attack?”

“’Course not, doll,” He grinned back at you, “Just tryna keep you on your toes s’all.”

“Since you’re here early, and decided to scare the crap out of me, I’m gonna put you to work.” You smirked at the way Nicky’s eyes widened with your words.

“Anything for you, baby.” He winked, trying to display a confident and cocky attitude. But you noticed the shaky breath he let out before he spoke up.

You stood up, the skirt of your gown brushing against your ankles as you sauntered towards your boyfriend and took pride in the way his jaw went slack at the sight of you. Each step you took was agonizingly slow, but you were basking in the way he raked his eyes over your form. With each second, you could practically see the blood rushing to Nicky’s cheeks. He was bright red by the time you were directly in front of him. When the toe of your heel brushed against his dress shoe, you draped your arms around his neck. The breath caught in his throat at your closeness, and he choked on his next words:

“Is-Is that a new… um… is that a new lipstick, Y/n?” His adam’s apple bobbed as you pressed your body into his. You were looking up at him through your lashes – your lips just a hair’s length apart.

“Mhmm,” You hummed, running a hand down his chest, “It’s called ‘Forever Red’, kinda foxy ain’t it?”

Nicky couldn’t form any words; he was looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself. He only took his eyes off your lips to close them and breath a heavy sigh when you moved to whisper in his ear.

“Be a doll and zip me up,” You whispered and placed a kiss right below his cheek bone. You pulled away from Nicky and saw him deflate slightly from the corner of your eye.

“Wh-what?” His eyes were glazed over, “What did you say?”

“Zip me up, will ‘ya?” You let a small stream of laughter erupt from your red lips, “C’mon Nicky we don’t have all night.”

Still caught in a daze, he fumbled with your zipper a few times before he was able to pull it up fully.

“Atta boy,” You grinned, topping your look off with a feather boa and pair of pearly, elbow-length gloves. “So where are we going?”

Nicky finally snapped back to reality from wherever his mind had wandered from before and a cheeky grin had returned to his face, “You are such a minx, you know that?”

“I learned from the best,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around his outstretched elbow. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, Y/n. We do have to make a quick stop on our way to our date.” Nicky admitted bashfully as you glided through the extravagant hotel hallway, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “’Nother head of the Family, Schitz, wanted to meet up to discuss his quarrel with some of Floyd’s guys. Asked to do it today. Is it okay if we…?”

“You know I’m all in, Nicky.” You squeezed his arm in reassurance. “I won’t get mad about you having to work. So long as you let me in, you know that.”

Nicky pressed a quick kiss to your temple as you rounded the corner to the exit, “What did I do to deserve a gal like you?”

“Something pretty damn good.”

<><><>

“Keep the car runnin’ Ralph, we shouldn’t be too long.” Nicky gave a firm nod to his right-hand man and grasped your hand in his. He had tried to ask you to stay in the car during his meeting, considering it shouldn’t be more than ten minutes long, but you were having none of it.

“Nicky come on! This can be part of the date!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be at his side whenever you could be. And he, being the simp he was, couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t even want to say no, and that’s how he knew he was absolutely whipped.

Begrudgingly he agreed, though, he refused to let go of your hand. Knowing you were by him at all times alleviated some of his fear with you being part of his family. If you were in, then he was going to make sure everyone knew you weren’t someone to be messed with.

“Ah, Nicky Valentino!” An older gentleman called from the inside of an empty bar. “Please take a seat.”

Nicky’s expression when he was with you was soft and warm, but when he was dealing with business those same eyes were walled away. Replaced with a stony expression that revealed nothing about what was going on in his brain. It was a look you were getting accustomed to wearing, yourself.

“If we could make this quick, Schitz,” Nicky’s voice was smooth and confident, “I have a previous engagement that I’m anxious to get to.”

“Of course, of course but – ah – what’s that?” Schitz gestured to his cheek, “Got some red shit on your cheek, paint or something?” Your eyes widened briefly when you realized what Schitz was talking about. He was gesturing to the place you had teased/kissed Nicky before you left.

Nicky asked you for the compact mirror from your purse – how he knew it was there was beyond you since you didn’t even know it was there – and checked his reflection. Once he saw the prominent silhouette of your lips on his cheek in your lipstick, Nicky let out a barking laugh. Your cheeks burned, though; ashamed at having possibly ruined his tough guy image.

“I’m sorry Nicky,” You whispered, taking off your glove and raising your hand to wipe away the mark on his cheek. Before your thumb could make contact with the stain, his hand clasped around your wrist and gently pulled your hand down to his chest.

“Don’t be,” He brushed his lips against your knuckles, “It’s a token of affection, I wouldn’t dare wipe away one of your kisses.”

Your heart thrummed loudly against your ribcage at his words. You could feel every amber of your being slowly fall more in love with him, and there was nothing you could do (not that you wanted to do anything) to stop it.

Eventually, a deep red kiss was the staple of your relationship. The lipstick was the finishing touch to every one of your outfits, and the shade that stained Nicky’s cheek whenever he left the house without you. He was taking a part of you with him on the days you couldn’t come, and everyone knew who you were when you accompanied him wearing the very same shade of red lipstick the next time you left.

#nicky valentino #nicky valentino x mc #two against the world #Nicky Valentino fluff #Nicky valentino fanfiction #nicky valentino x reader #fictif

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

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10 Dates | The Confessions Date

Summary: Kim Junmyeon was the epitome of a perfect catch - he was successful, handsome and everything you currently didn’t want in a man. Yet after agreeing to his request to give him 10 dates in total to change your mind, you realised you might have been looking for someone like him all along.

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x reader

Genre: dating au / romance

Warnings: none

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

After a morning spent in bed exploring one another intimately, you had walked along the River Arno, tried delicious gelato, visited more museums and monuments than you could count on one hand and eaten your weight worth in Italian bread. Another evening was spent out until the night grew old, and the sheets in your bed were ruined by the morning. It was constant heaven and when you got into a rented car to travel to Florence for the rest of your stay in Tuscany, you had believed there was a high possibility that you had already died and this was the afterlife.

It was all too magical to comprehend otherwise.

And even with all your mental preparation, as soon as you saw the Duomo in the distance, you were a lost cause. “Junmyeon, I’m sorry in advance if I cease any type of expected etiquette from here on out.”

“That overwhelmed?” he asked as you gripped onto your seatbelt, your eyes round as saucers and breathing became harder to do naturally.

“I don’t think I prepared you well enough for the history buff within me,” you explained and vaguely heard him chuckle.

You couldn’t explain it. Being in the city with so much rich history and architecture, the birthplace of the Renaissance art movement, and the place of your dreams since you were a teenager, left you utterly speechless. You didn’t know what to look at first or if your brain could even store as much as you were pleading with it to do. The hotel you stayed in held no effect on you once you found the windows, opening them up and staring out at your current world dreamily.

You flinched when Junmyeon reached around you to offer you a drink of water. It made you blink a few times before taking it. He grinned when you finally looked at him. “I should be offering you something with bubbles right now. It might calm your nerves.”

“I’m really here, aren’t I?”

He nodded, rubbing your upper arm repeatedly and you shivered. Junmyeon put his glass down on the small tabletop before encasing you in his arms.

For a moment, even with the dazzling world you wanted to memorise inch by inch, you sighed with comfort into his embrace. Since becoming intimate with him, there was no place you enjoyed more than being buried in his chest. He was always so warm and listening to his heart worked enough to bring peace to your erratic system.

You glanced up at him and shared a grateful expression and a kiss before looking back outside. “I’m glad I’m seeing all this with you, Junmyeon. My friends Kelsi and Ayla aren’t into history like I am. Which is fine, I was going to come here by myself when the time was right. But being with you makes it all that much more special.”

“You better stop with all these beautiful words you keep sharing on this trip or I might go ahead and ruin it,” he told you, blinking a few times and then looked outside, away from your sudden gaze on him.

“Ruin it how?”

“With some little words that shouldn’t come out too early,” he admitted and you smiled giddily.

“What if they come from me first?”

“I’ll call your bluff.”

You gaped at the man and pulled back to arm’s length to pout at him. “Hey!”

“Tell me when we’re back home. This place is our current paradise and it makes everything seem amazing to us right now. Those types of words need to wait until we’re back in reality.”

You thought over his reasoning and nodded. He was right, it would be all too easy with being caught up in the moment to rush ahead and say things that weren’t needed just yet. Two months could easily be enough time for someone to fall in love, and the romantic within you was certainly gearing up for it.

However, the whole reason you were hesitant to date in the first place was from those past experiences. Once you had confessed to love in the past, it crumbled away, the illusion of your adoration replaced with reality. There was no love at all, at least, not the kind you were searching to capture you for the rest of your life.

It could wait until you returned home. Until months had gone by and this dizzying honeymoon period had eased off. That was the most logical.

Your heart yearned for a little more magic, however.

By the third day in Florence, logic had all but left you. You were surrounded by a world you had travelled only through textbooks. It was right before your eyes, tantalising your senses everywhere you looked, listened and touched. When you thought you couldn’t be further impressed, you would enter another museum, exhibition or monument and fall further in love with Italy.

And with the man at your side.

As you walked around the Boboli Gardens listening to the guide over the Medici history, you found yourself thinking more about your return home than taking in everything around you. You wondered how much it would hurt to come back down to reality, to wake up in your bed back home and no longer at Junmyeon’s side. Would you be satisfied with sending him off to his dreams each night with a simple farewell over the phone instead of a kiss? Would you still see much of him once you were both back at work and pursuing the next big project? You knew he wasn’t going to just disappear from your world but you had gotten a taste of what it was like to spend time with him and you weren’t quite ready to stop doing just that.

Smiling to yourself, you decided you didn’t care how hard it would get at times; you would balance having a relationship with him. You grew excited for the comfortable moments to come, the bickering, the mundane parts to dating someone. So far, you had nothing to see Junmyeon any less for. He had ticked all the boxes you hadn’t believed he would and then some.

The adventure wouldn’t end just because you weren’t in Italy anymore.

So, when you were back in the centre of the city, you stopped walking around the Fountain of Neptune in the Piazza della Signoria and turned to Junmyeon, reaching for his hand.

“I can’t wait.”

“For dinner?” he questioned, checking his watch. “Baby, we have about an hour until our reservation.”

You stilled at the use of the nickname, your heart swelling further. Junmyeon seemed to become aware of what he said, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly.

“Oh uh, I just said that.”

You grinned. “That you did.”

“You liked it,” he observed and you nodded quickly. A smile erased his hesitance and Junmyeon then beamed at you. “I know another secret about you.”

“I hardly would call that a secret. It’s a common nickname for a partner.”

He faltered. “Common. Maybe I need something better?”

“No,” you spoke firmly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love it… I love a lot about you.”

“You’re getting dangerously close to words we agreed we’d keep to ourselves, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to keep them anymore,” you announced, brushing your nose over his as you moved in towards his lips. “I can’t keep them to myself. I’m falling for you.”

“I’ve waited years for this,” he said softly and you blinked in confusion.

Years?

Junmyeon seemed lost in his thoughts. “I never expected you to say them so easily to me either.”

You tried to dismiss the moment. He’s meaning for a love like this. Not you specifically, you thought, still blinking in hope that would settle some of the way he had said it in your mind.

However, there was the unmistakable shift in his eyes, the same one you had seen back at his house, shrouding you from the knowledge he seemed to bear. You wished you hadn’t seen it. Been able to fool yourself into the sentence you told yourself, to hold onto those loving sentiments you both had shared.

Junmyeon knew you had seen it too and the confessions fell flat, straight into the fountain behind you, sinking like your heart was.

Was this the catch you had been waiting for unnervingly?

“Junmyeon,” you started, and watched as he moistened his lips in preparation of your heavy question. “What made you go on that first date with me?”

“The first date?” he repeated, trying to smile but it didn’t light up his eyes as it usually did. He was simply trying to buy time, figuring out his path forward. You implored him for an answer and after glancing around the bustling plaza, Junmyeon pointed to one of the alleys that would lead someplace perhaps quieter. You weren’t sure even away from all the people that your mind would silence, the buzz growing louder the longer you impatiently waited for his answer.

Eventually, he found a stone bench for you to sit down on, clasping his hands together as he looked at his feet. “It would have been much the same as it was for you.”

“Kelsi set me up with you. Her work colleague is friends with yours and showed your profile to her. I still don’t know why she put me forward instead of herself though,” you explained calmly despite the noise in your head. You closed your eyes, hoping it would settle it some. “Wasn’t it the same for you?”

“It was,” he stated slowly and then sighed. “It wasn’t the first time I was shown a person to go out on a date with.”

“Likewise.”

“Normally I would insist to Chanyeol that I was too busy to date because my career is in a pretty pivotal moment right now, if I’m honest. The last thing I needed was to start dating.”

Snapping your gaze to his side profile, you frowned. “Then why?”

“I couldn’t turn you down,” he answered, nodding along with his statement. Junmyeon’s eyes remained downcast and you wondered why he couldn’t look at you right now. What was so big that would make him feel less able to stare at you whilst he talked? His smile turned bittersweet. “Because I know you.”

“What? No, you don’t,” you corrected, your gaze narrowing on him. Finally, Junmyeon looked up, his expression sincere. “I really don’t-”

“We grew up in the same area and although we went to different high schools, I know you from back then.”

“How?”

“We did an interschool competition one year. You were on the history quiz team, remember?”

Your memories travelled back to a younger period in your life, growing clearer with the more thought you put into it. Junmyeon smiled again. “I was on the athletics team.”

Blinking some more, you tried to find the younger version of him in your memories but you came up blank. He seemed aware of this, nodding again.

“I don’t think you would remember me much. But I remember you.”

“Because of a high school competition, you decided to go on a date with me as adults? That’s nothing to be so concerned over; some might think that’s sweet.”

Junmyeon sighed heavily. “I liked you so much that I convinced a friend who I knew at your school to help me out. He gave me some pointers on how to approach you and then when it came time to, I was beaten to it.”

“Beaten?” you echoed and then sighed with realisation. “Do Kyungsoo.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” he confirmed with a light laugh, leaning back. “You dated him for what, a year?”

You were surprised he had known how long you dated for. Still, you shrugged. “Only for him to break it off when he said we weren’t compatible.”

“I had the biggest crush on someone I didn’t really know. I mean, I tried to know you. Once you meet someone, it becomes easy to see them everywhere. We have crossed paths in life, even as adults, multiple times before that date, you know.”

“Really?”

Junmyeon nodded. “I tried dating others but I guess the juvenile part of me who didn’t get the girl of my teenage dreams wasn’t satisfied. If it wasn’t you, I wasn’t interested.”

“Wow, you thought so highly of me,” you murmured, unsure of how to feel.

Should it be endearing? You felt a little uncomfortable thinking there had been moments in life where Junmyeon had watched you, had felt something for you and you had no idea he even existed.

“So when your picture crossed my desk, I thought maybe this was a sign. That’s why I agreed to the date. And then you politely turned me down. Was this what the universe had wanted me to understand all along?” Junmyeon wasn’t talking to you, but rather himself, perplexed over the concept. He then shook his head. “I couldn’t let you go this time. Not without trying. Which is why I came after you-”

“And suggested the ten dates,” you finished and Junmyeon nodded.

“But here we are in Italy, enjoying each other and our dream. Yours is the place and mine is… well, I guess, it’s you.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you would be considering I’m aware how this must sound to you.”

“It is a lot to take on,” you admitted, chewing on your lip.

“I’ve been honest about my approach this whole time, Y/N.”

“Except when you acted like it was your first meeting with me.”

“Well it was, I had only liked you from afar.”

“Maybe it’s best we leave it in the past,” you stated, standing up and inhaling a deep breath.

Junmyeon didn’t join you. “Don’t you have something to say too?”

“Me?”

“Your friends coming on that second date wasn’t a coincidence.”

“That was innocent, simply a backup plan.”

“You said yes to ten dates but wanted to ensure you could find a way out if I didn’t present well?” he surmised and you nodded.

“I didn’t know what to think back then about you. I didn’t think we matched, remember?”

Junmyeon stood up and held out his hand for yours. “Can we go back to smiling and having a good time? We have only one day left in Italy. The truths we’ve confessed to, let’s navigate them back home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, slipping your hand into his waiting one.

It didn’t feel the same as before.

_________________

Part 8

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ithilloktewrites · 3 years

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Wooing a Higurashi - Madara/Kagome Chapter 1

I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I am writing it. It will be completed before I ever post it to an actual fanfic site. Please enjoy this two-chapter preview!

Chapter 1

Kagome raised her bow, aimed and fired. Power lit her arrow, and towards the attack coming towards her. She was not its intended target. There had been a man who had dodged the huge flames, but had been unable to avoid the kunai aimed at his neck. He was dead now. Kilala waited in her smaller form at Kagome’s feet. The nullification of the attack brought the weaver’s attention to her. She no longer wore the green and white uniform she wore around the feudal era. She would have brought too much attention to herself. Besides, for this place, it was more practical. Her barrier never wavered, and the man appeared suddenly in front of her, gunbai brandished. Kilala hissed in warning at him. She watched his eyes briefly scan over her companion. She did the same.

Long spikey hair framed a pale face. His eyes were red, and there were three… Tomoe? They spun lazily around the pupil, and his face overall was rather handsome. The marks under his eyes spoke of many tiresome nights he had stayed up late. Though it was hard to tell, with how his hair fell and covered half of his face. He was very tall, well over a foot taller than her. And he wasn’t just tall, he was very broad, and well muscled as well. He did not wear armor like she had seen other shinobi do. He wore only fabric. At his waist, he had a white belt that held a pouch to him, presumably with his shinobi tools in them. The collar on the shirt was high, reaching just under his chin, in a dingy navy color. Below the belt, the robe he wore parted to reveal black pants with the ends tucked and wrapped into bandages that ended right above his ankles. Simple sandals kept his feet from being injured.

“Sorry about that. It was coming my way, and I’m not a shinobi, so I can’t move away like you can, so I nullified it instead. I’m sorry if I bothered you. It wasn’t my intention.”

Her explanation to him only seemed to arouse his suspicion, however.

The man’s blazing red eyes glared down at her. She knew about shinobi. She’d learned it very quickly when she was first dropped here. She did not let her barrier waver, ever. It had to be strong at all times to protect her, and those who’d come with her.

“Besides, I’m after these bamboo shoots, it’s what I was looking for.”

She pointed to the small patch of bamboo, the shoots just starting to emerge from the soil at her feet. The man narrowed his eyes, and before she could blink, he had struck her barrier with the giant fan. The chain wrapped around it, but she held her barrier firm. The man’s eyes narrowed, and she noticed that the tomoe were spinning around his pupils. He frowned again, and she stared him in the eyes. She blinked and felt something try to touch her mind. She batted it away. Paltry mental attacks would not work on her, not after all the mind control spells and illusions she had broken through. She raised her brow at him, and Kilala moved in front of her, growling with the fur along her spine ruffling, and her tails puffing up.

“Well aren’t you rude. I’ve done and given nothing but civility, and you try to kill me, and attack me mentally. Though I should expect that of shinobi. All of you are so barbaric, killing everyone that doesn’t belong to your clans and it doesn’t matter if your targets are shinobi or little children. How pathetic and disgusting.”

She knelt to the bamboo shoots she had come for. She pulled a small garden knife out. It looked quite a bit like a kunai, but it’s shape told that it wasn’t. She knelt down and began to dig. He pulled the chain around her barrier back to him in a manner that would have been instant death if it had been wrapped around her person. That meant only one thing. He was still trying to kill her. Most likely for her ‘barbarians’ comment. Sadly it was true. She’d come across the bodies of small children that had been killed with shuriken and other tools, completely covered in wounds. She’d buried so many of them herself, and usually cried for days afterwards. Some she’d been able to save, having arrived in time. She narrowed her eyes at the shoots she was still trying to dig up. Why was something like foraging for food so difficult to believe? Had they never seen a miko before?

‘I wish it wouldn’t come to this. Can’t I just make a friend that for once, won’t try to kill me? It’s been two months, and I have barely seen anyone. Of them, all wanted to kill me on sight. What is wrong with this world?!’

She pulled a piece of the special talisman making cloth-paper mix from her suikan, and pulled out a pen, clicking the end open. She wrote her command on it, and held it ready in her hand, returning her pen to its previous location in her suikan. She watched him move around her barrier, trying to see what she was doing with her hands. She huffed and continued digging, the talisman held in her other hand. She didn’t try to hide it either. There was no point. She instead made it plain as day what she had in her hand. The man watched her outside her barrier. When she’d dug up all the bamboo shoots she needed for that night, she stood, and picked up her basket. Kilala led her to some more edible plants she could smell, meowing to get her attention, and always keeping an eye on the stranger. Kagome followed the little feline, her face lighting up when she saw what Kilala smelled. Her barrier followed with her. The man seemed to disappear. He’d moved underground. She could feel his energy moving through it.

‘Too bad my barrier is a perfect sphere. Don’t whack your head too hard down there, shinobi.’

“Oh! Kogami! Thanks Kilala, I would have totally missed those! Shippo will say thank you too. And I see some horsetail too. Perfect!”

Kagome saw the man appear and then move to make another attack. She altered her barrier just a touch. The moment the gunbai hit her barrier, it started being sucked in. The man’s face changed from one of suspicion, to one of horror. Closer and closer his hand came to the barrier. More and more the gunbai was pulled in. Harder and harder he pulled on it, but to no avail. He watched, helplessly pulling what he had a grip on to try and dislodge it from her barrier.

“Damn woman, let go of my gunbai!”

“So you can attack me with it? I don’t think so. You’re not getting it back until you can act like a civilized adult, and you're finished with your temper tantrum. Then you need to apologize for your rudeness. You're not getting it back until you do.”

The man glared at her. His hand touched the barrier then. Initially nothing seemed to happen, but the closer and more firmly he touched the barrier, the more his hand heated up, then became uncomfortable, then irritated, and finally began to burn. Still she did not let up, even when the smell of burnt flesh began to fill the field. Finally he released his gunbai. It fell harmlessly inside her barrier, on the ground. Any energy he’d channeled into it had been dissipated as it passed through. So even if he’d done something to it, it wouldn’t have done anything.

She noticed him flipping his hands around from her peripheral vision. Then he breathed in and then out through his mouth. A giant fireball formed, and she knew he was trying to overwhelm her so he might pass through her barrier. The area around her caught on fire, and quickly turned to ashes. She blinked at him and finished gathering the kogami, before moving to the patch of horsetail not too far away, and protected by her barrier. She wasn’t even phased. Then he stopped and stared at her. He watched her. She sighed.

“Alright Kilala, is there a river or any good game nearby?”

Kilala looked around her, ears perked and listening. She couldn’t sense any game, but she did hear a river. Kagome picked up the gunbai and wound the chain neatly, sliding the length of the handle into her quiver, and the chain with the kama into the basket on her back. She approached the feline with her previous question in mind.. Kilala transformed. She knew Kagome wouldn’t be able to maneuver the forest with that weapon on her back. Kagome didn’t argue. The man behind her stopped a moment, tense and standing in a battle stance, face furrowed, eyes wide. Kagome snorted at him, then approached Kilala, and swung her leg over the large feline’s back.

“Return my gunbai!”

Kagome rolled her eyes.

“No. That’s not how you ask nicely, jerk!”

The man growled. He knew he couldn’t do anything, and so did she. She still held the paper in her hand. She was still ready to hold him in place if he tried anything. Kilala bounded up, her paws running on the air at a leisurely pace. She could feel him following them. She knew he would not leave his weapon behind. She also knew she had offended him when he’d demanded his gunbai back. She had a feeling that she would be going back to the place she had claimed with it tonight, and that she would see this man quite often. Just a hunch she had though. Hovering along the river, she saw that it was the perfect place for large fish to catch prey in the fast moving waters. She pulled some line out, and put a small piece of jerky on the hook. One of the last pieces she had. She hoped something liked the smell of it.

She carefully unwound the line from her hand, and let the current move it down stream some. The man watched her, before walking on top of the water, looking at the line she was using. He was examining it, before a small stone ricochet off her barrier. He was testing to see if it was still there. She rolled her eyes at him, and held in a disgusted noise. Kagome guided Kilala to move downstream a little, she could see one eyeing her bait. She saw it curl up, preparing itself, then strike. She jerked hard on the line, and when it was caught, Kilala shot up, pulling the fish straight out of the water, no fighting needed. It would wiggle and fight while hanging, but would otherwise be easy to reel in.

Then the line went light, and the tension in it disappeared.

‘He wouldn’t! He did!’

The jerk had cut the line! The line itself said that. It would have been frayed if it had broken, but it was a clean cut! She saw him put the kunai away, and walk to the shore, the fish long gone. She was so mad! She was scared! They needed that fish! The guts would have been enough to make bait for more fish, which meant more food! She needed the food, she needed to preserve it for winter! How dare he! She’d been nothing but civil, and kind to him! Others would have killed him in her position. She didn’t! She filled the talisman with her horiki, and flicked it at him.

“You jerk! That hook was all I had! Winter is coming quickly, and I need all the food I can get to preserve for it!”

When he turned to smirk over his shoulder, the talisman just missed him. He had excellent reflexes. His eyes were wide in confusion. Which meant he had seen what she wrote on it. She aimed an arrow at him, filled it with power, and released it. The moment she did, Kilala dove at the jerk just seeing her arrow. He dodged the attack, but didn’t realize that the feline had also followed after the arrow with her, and was coming for him with her on his back. Large teeth and claws flew at him, and even she could see that he had a hard time dodging them. She pushed her energy outward, knocking him backwards, and hopefully stunning him for a moment. It was all she needed.

A second too late he realized it was all a big distraction, as the talisman was waiting for him. He didn’t sense it. It landed square on the middle of his forehead, dropping on him from above. He dropped to the ground. He was still awake. She could see him blinking, and his chest rose and fell. Kilala landed beside him. She could tell that he was kicking himself for underestimating her.

“Well, since you cut my line, and lost the last hook I had to catch fish with, you don’t get your gunbai back, you get to stay here, immobile and unable to move until that talisman runs out. We’ll call it fair trade. And if I ever see you again, it better be with something to make up for what you cost me, or you won’t ever get it back, you murdering jerk! Have fun sleeping with the bears and wolves. If I were a cruel person I’d make a single cut on you that bled pretty well, and leave you here where rats and the like would eat you alive, but as a Miko, I won’t do that. I am not dishonorable, like you. I haven’t done anything to you, yet you tried to kill me, stalked me, tried to destroy the foods I was collecting before I could collect them, and lost the protein we needed to stay healthy. You're disgusting! How dare you! I hope I don’t ever have to see your nasty face again. Not even the demons back home were such jerks!”

With a curl of her lip, flashing her teeth, a habit she had picked up from all the canine and feline yokai she had lived and traveled with in her world, she turned away when her burning eyes pooled with tears in her frustration. The actions perfectly portrayed her disgust with him, and she saw his eyes widen. She collected her arrow, then turned her nose up at him again. She remounted Kilala and they took to the air and started the journey back to the area they were working on. They left the man on the bank of the river, very vulnerable. He deserved it.

Wooing a Higurashi Chapter 2:

https://ithilloktewrites.tumblr.com/post/655141752516362240/wooing-a-higurashi-madarakagome-chapter-2?is_related_post=1

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ambitionsource · 4 years

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no love like your love

Word Count: 6,500+

Notes: This little work is dedicated with so much love to my darling yearning touch-starved romantic, Jany ( @paigemelendez ). Yes, it is I, your secret santa!!! I tried to encompass a lot of your favorite little romantic things in here (as well as some of your fun little quirks and jokes and... unique opinions I’ve had the joy of getting to experience in our friendship). I hope you love it half as much as I love you. ♥

Happy holidays, AAA warriors!!

Preview:

If you asked Zay and Charlie what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a hug.

If you asked Riley and Lucas what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a hand hold.

If you asked Dylan and Asher what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a forehead kiss.

1 ✾ Zay & Charlie

If you asked Zay and Charlie what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a hug.

It wouldn’t take either of them long to reach this decision. Sure, they might throw a couple of other options out there into consideration before definitively settling on hugs. Charlie in particular would take a little bit longer to reach that conclusion, needing to give each one that jumps to mind its due weight in a way that Zay rarely has the time or energy for. It’s no surprise that their approaches would be different, but they would both get there eventually.

Because in their relationship, a hug symbolizes a lot more than just a hug. It’s bigger than a touch of the hand, but it’s more outwardly casual than a kiss in any variation. It’s deceptively informal, able to disguise itself as a friendly gesture or an offhand goodbye. But the two of them know the weight it carries—regardless of how they end up there, regardless of which of them pulls the other towards them, it brings them together. No matter who might see, no matter whether the embrace is fleeting or the kind where they don’t let go of each other for a long time, or the rare instance where they don’t think they’ll ever pull away for as long as they’re still breathing.

When Zay and Charlie hug, the universe finds its equilibrium. It’s the two of them finding everything they need in one another, bringing every piece of themselves in harmony and fitting together like puzzle pieces. It’s a symbol of what they are in spite of all the other external factors that push and pull at them throughout the day.

I’m me and you’re you, but we’re also one. We’re together. We are.

And when that sentiment is personified through an embrace, it feels pretty damn permanent.

When Zay initiates hugs, more often than not it’s a gesture of comfort.

If there’s one thing he’s learned about Charlie, it’s that he is the master of overthinking. He hides it impressively well, coming off collected and agreeable on the surface from a first impression and to most of their peers. Years of repression and behavioral habits make that possible, easily concealing the near constant way his brain is running on overdrive to stay out of trouble and prepare for any possible problem. Zay admittedly would have never guessed it back when they were merely classmates—the effortless, charming facade is expertly crafted and does its job well.

But now that he knows him, probably better than anybody else, Zay can spot the small tells that indicate how frantically Charlie’s mind is running. His eyes will widen just slightly, the edge of his smile grows tighter. His shoulders square, and while that could be construed as a gesture of confidence it’s more of a defensive position, a stance he takes to prepare himself for whatever anxiety he’s going to be carrying next.

The frustrating part is that there’s not much he can do to help. He knows that love doesn’t fix mental issues—he’s never been told that true love will cure his dyslexia, although he would not be surprised if someone tried to spin it that way—and even further, so many of Charlie’s greatest anxieties are things that he has no control over. It’s up to his boyfriend to grapple with and overcome his stressors on his own and in his own way. All Zay can do is what he’s been trying to do all along: be a safe space, an unwavering pillar of comfort and support whenever and however he might need it.

Admittedly, this task would be easier if Charlie were open about his emotional flares. Although it’s improved vastly in the time they’ve been together, Charles J.P. Gardner is still a master of deflection and repression and hardly ever wants to admit when something is wrong. So Zay has to rely on his knowledge of him, how intricately he’s studied him in the last few months to determine if there’s an issue for himself.

And even then, when he’s ninety-nine percent sure Charlie could use support, it’s still not simple to broach the topic.

“Everything okay?”

Charlie jumps lightly from his spot on the bed. He’s sitting cross-legged with his history textbook on his lap and a notebook on top of it for notes, but he hasn’t been turning pages. For the last two minutes he’s been staring blankly at the CD wall art Zay has at the opposite end of the room, clearly lost in his own head.

The question brings him back to the present. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m—yeah.”

If anything, Charlie’s nonchalant shrug and stammering assurance is the final confirmation Zay needs. He pushes himself back into a sitting position, a little grateful for the excuse to avoid his math homework.

“Are you sure?” He puts a slight emphasis on the question, hoping his tone indicates that he’s already aware something is wrong and is more so asking just for the sake of giving him the chance to speak on his own. “You seemed a little off after performances today.”

“Did I? Well, I—no. No, I’m good.”

“Charlie.”

“Isaiah.”

Zay rolls his eyes at the use of his full name, but he can’t help but crack a smile, too. He doesn’t much like when people call him Isaiah aside from his family, and even they do it sparingly, but it’s different with Charlie. Somehow, everything is. “You know you can talk to me about it.”

“Oh, yeah. I know.”

“Cool. So talk, then.”

Charlie narrows his eyes, obviously reluctant to budge. But it’s hard for him to maintain his disdainful expression when they’re looking at one another—all Zay has to do is wiggle his eyebrows and a smile creeps onto Charlie’s lips. He looks away in embarrassment, biting back the smile before it becomes too obvious.

He runs a hand through his hair. Zay’s honestly impressed with how long he’s let it get. Impressed, and definitely not complaining. “I mean, it’s whatever. I just… I don’t know. I thought Maya was being particularly loud today, that’s all.”

“She’s always loud.”

“Okay, yes, she is,” Charlie agrees. “But you know, after me and Nigel finished our presentation and she had all those notes… I don’t know, I just think she could’ve been a little more tactful.”

He wouldn’t ever want to say it out loud, but Zay knows Charlie is more sensitive than he lets on. Another thing he expertly hides behind that suave persona, that he works tirelessly to keep under wraps.

“Maya Hart, being tactful?” Zay laughs. “I thought you were working on all that wishful thinking.”

Charlie frowns, leaning forward to playfully push his knees. Then he sighs, shrugging. “I know you’re right. I know it’s stupid—,”

“It’s not stupid.”

“I don’t even know why it’s bothering me. It’s not like I haven’t endured many a Maya Hart criticism in the last three years. This wasn’t even that bad.”

Zay has a theory. Charlie is juggling a lot more under the surface these days than he ever was a couple years ago. Or he supposes it was the same, only now one of those major stressors comprises a much larger share of his conscious mind. It’s easy to stuff your mixed emotions about being gay into the dark corners and pretend it’s not real when you’re not faced with it day-to-day—he’s doing a lot more emotional labor now given that he’s got a boyfriend and is in a committed relationship where he can’t exactly deny his own sexuality.

He knows it’s not his fault, but Zay does feel a sense of responsibility for it. It’s a constant circle he’s running through in his own head—that he’s the selfish one for wanting to be in this relationship with Charlie, for wanting Charlie in general, when he’s got so much to grapple with around it. Then, on the other hand, isn’t Charlie the selfish one for keeping their relationship a secret, giving it all these conditions and stress around something that shouldn’t be inherently stressful?

He’ll go around and around, but he always ends up reminding himself that it hardly matters. The situation is unideal—they both know it. They’re making it work—they both are putting in time and effort to make it so. So long as that remains the case, then he feels like the energy and emotion he’s expending towards it is worth it. Everything else hardly matters.

So he forgets all of the little pitfalls and just focuses on the good, and what he can do to keep it that way. In this case that involves assuring Charlie that his feelings are valid, no matter how small, and offering comfort and support in the way he gives it best.

Zay smiles softly, climbing to his knees and crawling to meet him. He wraps his arms around Charlie and pulls him into a hug. “Maya sucks most of the time. It’s okay to feel that way.”

Although there’s still a trained hesitation and Zay can feel the way Charlie’s muscles tighten at the embrace, it’s not long before the tension falls away. With every hug and every day, it takes less and less time for him to return the gesture.

He releases a sigh and loops his arms around Zay’s back, tilting his head against his shoulder.

Zay isn’t sure how long they’ll be there. Might be a while because Charlie wants more time to relax in it while he can; might be a while because there’s nothing quite like being in each other’s arms. He doesn’t mind either way—if Charlie wanted to never move again, he thinks he might be okay with it.

After a couple minutes, Charlie murmurs into his shoulder. “Maya does suck most of the time.”

Zay can’t help but laugh. He nods, nudging his head against his. He smells like lavender shampoo and the sugar cookie air freshener that he has in his car, and while Zay thinks the freshener itself kind of smells sickening somehow it’s soothing as it lingers on his boyfriend.

It’s different with Charlie. Everything is.

2 ✾ Riley & Lucas

If you asked Riley and Lucas what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a hand hold.

Well, actually, they probably wouldn’t answer the question. Realistically, if you asked Lucas about anything relating to Riley Matthews, or love in general, he’d probably growl something incoherent and then tell you to mind your own business before stomping off and locking himself away where he can’t be reached. Riley would politely sidestep the question, changing the subject or turning the conversation back to you so skillfully you don’t even realize she neglected to give you an answer. It’s not that she’s shy about the reality of a relationship or how much touch shared with a significant other means—it’s that for how selflessly she gives up every part of herself to others, there are a few things that she likes to hold close to her heart, just for her.

So they wouldn’t say anything, but it’s undeniable that they would think the same thing. In fact, if you asked them at the same time, they would probably exchange a look that confirms that agreement without any words at all… before doing the above and escaping the query. The two of them are on the same page, and they don’t need to share with the rest of the world to make it true.

Like so many things between them, it would be unspoken yet perfectly understood.

For Lucas, a hand hold isn’t so much a touch as it is a confirmation.

Confirmation of what, exactly, he isn’t sure. The problem is that it seems to be not one concept but many, meaning something different every time he and Riley link their fingers together. Reassurance that they’re on the same page; proof that they are in one another’s corners; an inarguable and tangible acknowledgement that they’re together. She slips her hand into his, and he returns the touch, and it seems to say a million things without actually saying anything at all.

I’m here. I want you here. I want you. I got you. Together.

It’s good, because Lucas isn’t sure he’d be able to make it clear otherwise. He’s never been great with words when it matters—he hates how Asher and Dylan are constantly telling him he’s actually quite eloquent when he feels like forming a coherent sentence is a struggle when all eyes turn on him and the pressure is on—and communicating with Riley Matthews is quite possibly the most important words he’ll ever spare. So when they fail him, as they so often do, he’s grateful that there’s another way to deliver the message rather than just stranding her in uncertainty.

Riley doesn’t seem to mind much anyway. She likes to talk, of course, and he’s more than content to listen to her talk for as long she deems him worthy of her voice and attention. And sometimes, when the conversation is casual and the content isn’t crucial, he finds she can be easier to speak with than most people in his life. But she’s also surprisingly happy with the quiet, never complaining when they spend an hour or so in the booth working independently or when the walk to the subway is devoid of chatter. She doesn’t need the constant commotion and noise like so many of his classmates do just to get through the day. All she does is find her chance to slide her hand into his at some point, and that seems to suit her just fine.

It’s nice, because Lucas has always valued the quiet. He’s always grasping for it, he feels, but the disrespect others have towards the sanctity of it push it out of reach. It’s nice that the person who wormed her way into his life despite his best defenses, who is presumably meant to be the most important person in it if they aren’t doomed to fail by his cosmic bad luck, appreciates it just as much as he does.

The world is loud, and it’s also tough, and Lucas is no stranger to how much his hands have to endure throughout the day. His hands are practically maps of evidence, scars and callouses and cracked skin from biting New York winters. Riley is growing aware of it too, some of his favorite memories of her fingers on his skin being the afternoons in the back of her car parked at the hideaway the ones where she runs them along the marks on his palms and the back of his hands and asks to know the stories. Soft and sincere in her curiosity, wanting to soak up everything there is to know about him just because he’s him, and for whatever miraculous reason she’s decided that’s the most worthwhile thing he could be.

The stories usually aren’t pleasant, but neither are they all that interesting. A burn scar from a miscalculated bottle rocket, a hairline scar from falling in his entryway and knocking over the coat rack. A scuff from some stupid dare he pulled off with Dylan, the faded white gash in the skin of his wrist from when he fell and broke it on the dumpster last summer. Nicks from the tools while set-building, the occasional light scratch from a cat or dog at the animal shelter, band-aids to cover the places where he’s picked at his hangnails too much.

Riley loves to listen to the memories though, empathizing and nodding and responding at all the right moments. It’s as if they’re her memories too and she’s simply reliving them with him, his girlfriend somehow so gifted with empathy that he doesn’t even doubt it when she says she understands.

It’s a rare power she has over him, the ability to gain his trust so implicitly. He’d never say it aloud, but damn, does he love how nice it feels to be heard.

Case in point, his hands endure a lot, and today is no exception. In fact, today is especially rough, as the set piece they’re building for the musical is not coming along smoothly. They basically spent the entire breakout time putting half of one piece together before scrapping it and having to take it apart entirely. His hands are sore and scraped from the wood, and his fingers still ache with the pinch of having to use the hammer and drill to remove all those nails and screws.

That, and he’s been picking at his nails again. He knows how hard Asher worked on this set design, and he doesn’t want to have to be the one to tell him it’s not going to work. His best friend is resilient and clever and he knows he’d be able to come up with something else, but he also knows how attached he is to this vision. Not that he’d ever say it—Asher hates to come on too strong—but Lucas can tell, and he wants to be able to deliver on it. He doesn’t want his inability to figure it out result in the destruction of something so important to someone he cares about.

So he wracks his brain instead, skipping out on lunch with the techies in the courtyard to scrutinize the production design sketches in the booth alone. He doesn’t bother with food, hunched over the binder and comparing the specifications in Asher’s neat handwriting to the technical plans he and Nate put together in an effort to create a tangible product. Some piece isn’t translating over, and if he stares at them both long enough he figures he’ll be able to find it. He has to eventually.

Naturally, where he’s fine neglecting his own needs to get the job done, Riley is not so flippant. She figured out the situation before he even said anything, reading his absence from lunch as an indication that this was exactly what was happening. Hence why she shows up in the booth about halfway through the period, finding him precisely where she figured she would.

“Hi,” she greets him cheerfully, jogging up the steps with a bounce. She’s carrying an extra lunch bag in her hands. “I brought you something.”

Lunch. Food, one of the essential elements to survival. He furrows his brow but accepts it anyway. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she retorts cheekily. She leans down to give him a quick kiss, twiddling with the braid on her shoulder as she reads over his shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“Set design stuff. Something about the blueprint isn’t coming out right in execution.”

She hums, squinting at the designs for herself. Riley doesn’t know much about set construction, but she’s one of the few performers who actually bothers to try and comprehend the technical arts at all. If he’s honest with himself, that’s probably one of the first things he grew to love about her.

Love. Strong word. Maybe not the right word. Feels like it sometimes though, like now, when he’s glancing up at her gazing with such concentration. Love? No. Maybe. Could be.

Words are tough.

“Hm.” She frowns, crinkling her nose in that way that Lucas can’t believe is humanly possible. It can’t be possible to be that cute. She adjusts and delicately perches on his lap, sliding an arm around his shoulder. “Have you talked to Asher about it?”

His silence answers the question. She shifts her gaze to him, getting the message loud and clear when his expression twitches and he dips his head down to avoid her eyes.

Clear enough. Riley hums again, and Lucas is very aware of how her thumb is gently rubbing his shoulder. He’s pretty proud of himself for being so calm and open to their proximity this afternoon, as trying to accept that comfort level with her as natural and welcome rather than dangerous is a challenge all its own. It’s usually even more difficult when he’s stressed. It always amazes him how generous she can be with touch, how she makes sharing space seem so effortless.

She waits until he lifts his gaze again, tilting her head at him. Asking the question without a word.

Lucas sighs. “Asher is brilliant. This design is good, and I don’t want him to think otherwise.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand. You guys are really good about discussing stuff like this. He respects your opinions, and it’s not like you didn’t give it your best effort.”

“I know. But I hate… I don’t like all of the work having to go back on his shoulders. Especially when he already made something so good.” He shakes his head wordlessly, clicking his tongue. “Despite what my expertly maintained persona might suggest,” at this, Riley rolls her eyes, “it’s not fun to be the one telling your friend that their idea doesn’t work.”

That much probably went without saying. Riley nods, absorbing the truth of it and not immediately having a perky solution to volley back. He didn’t expect her to—unlike a majority of their peers, he doesn’t expect her to be the magical mechanic to every problem that arises at Adams.

Instead, she offers him her hand. She takes the hand he’s resting on her knee, threading their fingers together. Expressing solidarity and comfort in an instant.

I’m here.

Lucas glances down at their joined fingers, her soft, well-manicured hand in contrast with his tanned, harsh one. Her fingernails are light blue—she must’ve just painted them last night. He likes the color. He likes the touch.

He likes her.

Loves? Maybe. Could be.

Lucas lets his thumb stroke the back of her hand.

I want you here.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Riley contemplating with her eyes on the production sketches while he finds trouble keeping her eyes off of her. Then her eyes widen, a little bit brighter than before as an idea strikes her.

“What if I talked to Asher with you? Maybe we can find a more subtle way to approach the conversation. I’m sure it’s not as disastrous as you think it’ll be anyway, but a comfortable setting might make it easier to have. Dylan can be there too, obviously. Like on our next double date.” She meets his eyes, curious. “Would that help? Just to have a buffer, someone to help you articulate what you’re really trying to say. Avoid any potential missteps. And then it’ll be done with, and you can move on from it rather than starving yourself trying to piece together a puzzle that might not ever fit together.”

It doesn’t completely take away the discomfort, but the prospect of not having to face the conversation alone does remove some of the weight off his shoulders. He finds it impressive how often she can end up being right, even years later. Because it’s a relief not to have to do everything alone, just like she told him.

“Yeah, that would be cool,” he says. “Thanks.”

She smiles, the type that makes his stomach flip. Then she leans forward and presses their lips together, stealing a kiss from him whenever she can manage it.

In this case, the proximity is more than welcome. He kisses her back, squeezing her hand to accent the point.

I want you. I got you.

Together.

3 ✾ Dylan & Asher

If you asked Dylan and Asher what the best form of physical affection is, they’d say a forehead kiss.

Of course, this is only after multiple alternative answers and a whole lot of discussion. It would start somewhere in the general kiss category—Dylan Orlando is the kissing expert, after all—but would bounce around a lot before landing on anything decisive. After contemplating the effective tenderness of a cheek kiss, Asher might point out that it’s sort of narrow-minded of them to immediately jump to kissing as the ultimate form of affection when there are so many non-kiss related gestures that also convey appreciation. Dylan would agree and easily shift into listing just about every other display of adoration he’s ever given to Asher, the latter having to reach over and cover his mouth after a certain point when the content innocently grows more intimate than Asher would like anyone else to know.

Even still, it would be endearing, because when Dylan lists them all it’s crystal clear how much love must go into each and every one.

But yes, eventually, they’d end up on forehead kiss. After two well-organized lists and hefty amount of banter, somehow they’d get there. Only Dylan would insist on an addendum, a little metaphorical asterisk next to their choice that clarifies “forehead kiss” is just a convenient umbrella term for any sort of peck upon the general head and face area. And Asher would question whether that includes cheek kisses, then, because that seems a bit like a cop-out if they do that, so the asterisk gets refined to specifying kisses above the nose on the general head and face area. Forehead kisses, kisses on the top of the head, kisses on the temple—all of that is fair game under their given consensus.

Then they’d add one more addendum, which is just Dylan’s way of pointing out that while they’ve provided an answer here, forehead kisses don’t actually convey any greater power or importance than any other form of physical affection. It’s just what they’re feeling that day, in that discussion. Asher agrees to the amendment, because it seems only fair to give the other contenders their due credit, and he’s never been opposed to a good clarifying statement.

But for Dylan, it’s not about fairness. It’s about breadth, abundance, that only sticking to one form of affection towards Asher Garcia feels impossible. He’s forehead kisses and linked pinkies and playful nudges. He’s bops on the nose and tight hugs and quick kisses on the cheek when he says something particularly smart or cute or unintentionally charming and Dylan can’t possibly leave him unrewarded. He’s cheekbone strokes and fingers in hair and kisses like kryptonite that always linger until they get the chance to do it again. Asher is all of it and more, deserving of all of it and more, he’s everything, everything, and there’s no possible way to put a limit on it.

But for now, sure, forehead kisses will suffice.

Dylan admits that one of the advantages to a forehead kiss is how convenient it is to give them.

He definitely has the upper hand when it comes to this particular display of affection. When the two of them met they were basically the same height, but after more than two years and a handful of inches later, Dylan stands at a comfortable five-foot-eight in comparison to Asher’s more humble five-foot-six. So he’s at the optimal height to brush his lips against his boyfriend’s forehead, taking this honor with great care and being as generous with it as he can.

Even still, he can’t help but love when Asher tries to return the favor. He likes the way he has to stand up on his tip-toes if they’re standing. He likes how much more common they are at certain times of day, like in the afternoon while he’s crouched down over a set piece helping Dave put it together and Asher comes over to check in with their progress. He’ll lean over his shoulder to ask for updates, then give him a brisk kiss on the top of the head while it’s in such a perfect, reachable place. Or at night after Dylan climbs in the window to stay the night, it’s not unusual for Asher to give him a quick peck on the forehead as a thank you before they settle in for the night.

Like everything else in their relationship, they’re equally eager to show their affection in whatever way possible. Dylan doesn’t think height impacts it much either way, and even though he has the benefit of two inches he greatly admires how Asher carries himself with so much poise it’s almost as if he’s six feet tall.

Of course, not everyone else feels the same.

“Oh, fuck off, Nate,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“What? What are you all getting so heated about?” Nate shrugs offhandedly, focused on keeping his balance as he stands on a 2 by 4 on top of a cylinder. “I’m only saying, technically me and Dave are the only real ones in here.”

Dylan isn’t paying much attention to the argument. Nate is always poking fun and saying incendiary things, and although they’re all complaining and barking back at him Dylan knows they all actually kind of like it. They like the silly debate and fiery spirt he brings to things, so he doubts whatever they’re snapping about now is going to leave much of an imprint on any of them.

Honestly, he’s much more entranced with watching him try to balance on the board. He was the first one to give it a try fifteen minutes ago, which is why he’s now sitting on the acting block while Asher disinfects and patches up the scrapes he got on his knees when he inevitably fell off. He figures he could treat his own injuries, but Asher offered and the fact of the matter is he knows how much pride his boyfriend gets out of taking care of him. And admittedly, it’s nice to be taken care of with such obvious affection.

So instead he gets to focus on Nate’s balancing act, observing the way the wood is bending like a see-saw on the cylinder and brainstorming other ways he could improve his own record. More thoughtful accommodation for how he tends to put his weight on his left foot… maybe he could move with it, like a skateboard… honestly, him trying to figure out this contraption might not make a bad vlog update…

“Having more inches in height doesn’t give you more class,” Jade snarks.

“Wait, who wants more class?” Dave says, obviously lost. Much like Dylan, it’s likely he hasn’t been paying much attention. “Isn’t three hours a day with Cory enough?”

“Class like credentials, Dave.”

“Oh. Wait… oh. What are we talking about again?”

“You’re being so huffy,” Nate laughs, crossing his arms. He nods towards Dylan and Asher, the latter just finishing up sticking a band-aid on and helping him roll down his pant leg. “Can’t you all be more like Asher? He’s short and you don’t see him getting all fired up.”

“You going to tell Lucas to his face that you don’t think he’s a real person?”

“Lucas is tangential. He’s like the bar. You have to be that tall to have rights.”

Jade starts to argue back, but Asher beats her to it. He’s still deceptively calm as he rises back to his knees and closes the first aid kit, but something about his tone is terse in a way Dylan doesn’t miss. “You’re an idiot, Nate.”

“Oh, blah, blah, blah,” Nate responds, before promptly slipping and falling off the board.

The rest of them burst into laughter, but Asher doesn’t join in. He marches off to return the first aid kit to its rightful place and doesn’t come back, Dylan looking in the direction he disappeared until he decides to go after him. No one notices him leave, too wrapped up in scraping Nate off the floor and making fun of him for his grand fall from grace.

Dylan doesn’t have to search long. He unlatches the gate to the set piece storage and heads straight for the step-ladder to the prop loft.

He hears Asher before he sees him, the light sniffling signaling that he is in fact present and is more than likely crying. That’s not out of character for him, Dylan knows, so he’s only moderately concerned as he pulls himself fully into the loft.

“Hey,” he greets him. Glass props clink as Asher rearranges them on the shelves he’s organized a thousand times, facing away from him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you crying?”

Asher sniffs.

“No,” he lies.

Dylan can’t help but smile. Maybe it’s morbid to find joy in your boyfriend’s tears, but he finds it so endearing how emotional he is. Especially when the tears are over something silly like this, something that he knows he can help fix.

He strides across the metal grates, lightly pinching Asher’s ribs and getting an involuntary chuckle out of him before he elbows him back. He grins wider and hugs him from behind, propping his chin on his shoulder. “So what was it? I’m assuming Nate.”

“Well, he was basically the only one talking,” Asher mutters. He keeps his gaze on the floor, but his hands drift to touch Dylan’s arms around him almost like they’re magnetized.

“True. I don’t think he was being particularly bad today though. He’s had worse takes. Remember when he said we shouldn’t go to the doctor because they’re capitalist machines and he informed you he hadn’t been to a dentist in three years?”

Asher shudders. “Please, don’t remind me.”

“Just saying, it’s been worse.” Dylan pauses. “So?”

There’s a moment of quite between them. Then Asher sighs, pulling away from him. He leans back against the wall—the same one they always sit against when cuddling together or when Asher needs to vent, the same one where they had one of the best kisses in the early phase of their relationship—stuffing his hands in his pockets and frowning.

“Do you think I’m short?”

Dylan doesn’t think on it much. “Not really?”

“I mean—,”

“I don’t really think you’re tall, either.”

“Well, Nate said—,”

“I don’t think I really think about it. It’s all relative, anyway.”

“Nate said I was in front of everyone else. I don’t really think about it either, usually, but I don’t know. I guess when someone just says it like that, it feels like it’s obvious. Like everyone feels that way too.”

Dylan twists his mouth, thinking. “I’m not sure anyone has feelings about it either way, babe.”

“Okay, I know. Like, I know that in my head. But it feels like one of those things I guess where yeah, I don’t normally really think about it, but then when someone points it out it stings more than I expect. So it’s like, I don’t care about it, but I guess I kind of do.” Asher fiddles with his sleeves, smoothing the crease where they’re rolled up. “You know? Does that make sense?”

No. Not to most people. When Asher gets this way, his normally eloquent way with words and even temperament go out the window, and it can be hard to follow what he’s trying to say.

But yes. To Dylan, it makes sense. Not because he relates—he and Asher are both well aware that they have very different mental states, totally different ways of absorbing and processing the world, but that’s one of the things Dylan loves most about being with him—but because he’s become rather skilled at understanding Asher Garcia.

“Sure,” he assures him.

“So yeah. It’s just another dumb thing, I don’t know. My brain will get stuck on it and then get over it.”

“Okay. But again, I don’t really think you’re short.”

“Well.”

“You’re not… you’re just Asher, you know?”

He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Reassuring, thanks.”

“Hey, you know I think that’s the best thing anyone could possibly be. Shame there’s only one in the entire world. Lucky for me, though.” Dylan beams, stepping closer and poking playfully at his cheek. Then he lights up with an idea. “Oh, I know what will help. Let’s look it up.”

The desire to remain blissfully ignorant is clear in Asher’s eyes. Dylan gets a little stuck on how pretty and green they are, with that unique hint of intensity they seem to always carry, before he continues pulling his phone out of his pocket. “No, that’s alright. Let’s not.”

“You love statistics. Nothing makes you feel better than definitive facts.”

“Okay, yeah, but—,” He lets out a grunt as Dylan slumps against him, huddling close and holding up the phone so they both can see the results come in. “Ouch. You’re heavy.”

“We can look that up next too, if you want. But at least I kept most of the weight on my feet this time.”

Service in the loft is notoriously bad. It takes a few seconds for the page to load, and a handful more to find results after Dylan types the query into the search engine. Asher’s fidgety hands shift from his sleeves to Dylan’s waist, ghosting his fingers absentmindedly over his skin along the hem of his shirt while they wait.

Finally, the results come in.

Average height for men in the U.S. Five feet, nine inches.

“There you go,” Dylan declares. “Feel better?”

“Not exactly,” Asher says, frowning. “That didn’t really disprove Nate’s point.”

“Yeah, but look at it this way. I’m short, too.”

Asher snorts, rolling his eyes. “You are not short.”

“According to the statistics, I am. It’s all relative!” He waves the phone closer to his face, Asher unable to hold back his smirk as he pushes his arm away. “See what I mean?”

“Okay, okay, yes. Point taken, thank you, Dyl Pickle.”

Dylan beams as brightly as he can manage, waiting until the inevitable moment when some of that sunshine leaks into his boyfriend’s expression. It always happens eventually.

“I don’t know if this will make you feel better, but I think you’re the perfect height. And you can say I’m biased—because I am—but I think of it like this.” He shifts back so he’s in front of Asher again, taking his hands as they press back against the wall. Their wall, it feels like, for all intents and purposes. “We fit together pretty well. Don’t you think? And we didn’t use to always be that way—there was even that crazy month in November freshman year where you were taller than me by a quarter of an inch.”

“Historic margins,” Asher deadpans, but when he moves his hands to wrap his arms around Dylan’s torso, the gesture isn’t anything but soft.

“We grew into this, just like we grew into everything else about ourselves and our relationship and whatever else. And I know that’s not the only thing that matters, but I think it’s pretty damn epic that for all the heights we could’ve surpassed and all the ways we could’ve turned out, we ended up like this.”

To demonstrate his point, he places a gentle kiss to Asher’s forehead. Right in perfect reach.

“I know that’s not a solution, but that’s how I feel.” Dylan shrugs, pleased to see most of Asher’s earlier frustration melted away to content. “I hope that helps, at least.”

“It does,” Asher murmurs fondly. “You always do.”

Then he rises onto his tiptoes to return the favor, keeping them in perfect balance.

#bonus content #riley x lucas #zay x charlie #dylan x asher #secret santa 2019 #winter hiatus 2019 #by maggie #<333333

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john-cardoza · 5 years

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Let’s talk about the prom!

As most of you know today the prom will close after 23 previews and 310 regular performances. They will have run for under a year after 4+ years of preparation.

I personally found out about the prom in late 2017 when they were in between their run at the Alliance theater in Atlanta and opening on broadway. I fell in love, found what little content existed, followed their instagram account, and forgot about the show until things started being announced for broadway.

A little background. I am a lesbian, I am also in high school, I’m lucky enough to live in a bigish city where gay people are common and relatively accepted in everyday life. When I first found out about the prom I did not know my sexuality, and it was causing me stress mostly due to the belief in our society that you should know exactly who you are when you are still young. Getting to see a musical that was centered around two teenage lesbian characters was so important, and helped me down the road of finding out who I was. Not only that getting to see a musical that normalized having multiple gay/lesbian characters and featuring multiple women in important roles with good character arcs? Even better.

When a broadway show opens they tend to do multiple performances on many different media sources to raise publicity. The first performance that prom did was at the Macy’s thanksgiving parade where they made history by having the first same-sex kiss in the parade’s history, not only that the performance was televised nationally, it is a program that is mostly watched by families and children. Who knows how many children who live in conservative homes got to see their first kiss between two women in a pure, prom like scenario when through their lives they have only been told that homosexual people are ‘wrong’. I can only hope that girls who are attracted to girls got to see an example of their sexuality being valid and that it will help them come to terms with it when they get older. The prom had many other performances on different television shows and such, and in all of them they went to lengths to show good lesbian representation while still advertising their show.

When it comes to the tony awards the prom had the honor of being nominated for seven different awards, one of which was best musical. Because of the number of awards they got they were also given the option to perform at the tony awards. It is not an overstatement to say that I cried when I saw their tony awards performance. It was yet another example of lesbian representation in theater which is something that is relatively uncommon. I do have opinions on the fact that they didn’t take home any of the tony awards that they were nominated for, but I will avoid sharing that here as I don’t want to talk about things the prom didn’t do. (I will mention that they won the drama desk award for best musical)

The two leads of the show who play Emma and her girlfriend Alyssa are Caitlin Kinnunen and Izzy McCalla. Caitlin Kinnunen who has been playing Emma since the first workshop for the show four years ago is my hero. There is probably another way I could phrase that, but I think that hero is accurate. It is rare to see an actress in a broadway production who is as open about their non-hetero sexuality as Kinnunen has been. A couple of months into the broadway run Kinnunen went to an interview where she talked about how she had recently started to realize her own sexuality thanks to in part, her role in The Prom. She also felt comfortable enough to share that she had just recently started dating a woman for the first time. Since then she has come out as bisexual, which I would consider a huge step forward as there are still many queer roles that are being played by heterosexual, cisgender people. Not only on broadway, but also in movies and television. Kinnunen is also very open about her own mental health issues. She has never shied away from talking about her anxiety and how it affects her day to day life as a broadway actor, like the fact that she usually cannot stagedoor and that she occasionally has to call out of shows to deal with her mental health. As a teenager with anxiety who has an interest in going into theater as a career (though I am more interested in the technical side), it’s inspirational to see someone as successful as Kinnunen be that open about her sexuality. The other lead who was mentioned above; Izzy McCalla, is also someone I look up to. A few weeks ago she went on a popular podcast titled “Thank you for coming out” there she talked about her struggles with her sexuality, due to the fact that she had never been in a real relationship with a woman. As of recently she has also come out as bisexual.

I was lucky enough to see the prom last month. I scheduled the trip when they announced closing, knowing that I would regret it if I never got to see the show live on broadway. Needless to say the show was amazing, but more specifically I was amazed by how good the show was quality wise. Right away it pulls you in, something that I feel many broadway shows struggle with, by the end of the first scene I felt completely invested in the plot and the characters. Not only that, but you stay invested, I find it hard to believe anyone could leave at intermission after the heartbreaking scene that closes out act one. Finally, near the end of act two there is a song called unruly heart that made me cry. It starts with Emma sitting alone on her bed with her computer and guitar, creating a song about her experiences with the prom. Near the end of the song ensemble members dressed in pajamas enter the stage behind her, representing the comments on the video. Something about that scene just hit me, it was amazing to hear people on stage voicing things that I have though in regards to my sexuality. I know that wasn’t the most eloquent explanation, but that is the only way I can think to put it.

Of the primary leads in the prom, three of the four of them are women. Of the secondary leads two of the four of them are women. Not only that but all of the women are fully fleshed out characters with emotions, and character arcs. It would be so easy to make Mrs. Greene nothing but a villain and a terrible person, but at the end of the show it is implied that she may be able to fix things with her daughter and become more accepting. Dee Dee Allen, the egotistical broadway star who starts the show as nothing but a narcissistic, selfish, asshole is also given the chance to learn from her mistakes, by the end of the show she is willing to make a huge sacrifice in order to help Emma. Having multiple female characters who all have flaws and make mistakes like a normal person is huge, especially on a broadway stage where many shows are reduced to “multiple men and a love interest”.

Lastly there are many amazing examples of representation that don’t necessarily apply to me so I won’t go super in depth about them. For one Izzy McCalla is Haitian and multiple actresses who understudy Emma and Alyssa are also not-white. Caitlin Kinnunen has diabetes and has been open about that, even wearing her medical bracelet during the tony performance.Overall the show has a lot of diversity among the ensemble actors which is uncommon in many shows. I will absolutely not say that it is perfect, but it is still amazing when compared to the more white shows.

Honestly I don’t know exactly what my intention is with making this post, but I can’t stand to let this beautiful show disappear without talking about it. I guess these are all my reasons as for why the prom shouldn’t be closing this early. Either way I will always love this show, and I hope that other people will too. Also make sure to go see the tour if you are able!

#i just cut it off there #it goes on #yes this is long #im emotional #sue me #the prom musical #the prom broadway #the prom closing #caitlin kinnunen #izzy mccalla #isabelle mccalla

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years

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Fic: Real Life and Fantasy

Summary: A follow-up to last month’s Across the Night. Belle prepares to meet Mr Gold for the first time, and ends up giving him a little show of his own. They decide to meet in person a little sooner than anticipated.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Rated: E

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Real Life and Fantasy

Belle wonders what it will be like when she meets Mr Gold in person for the first time. They’ve spent a week texting back and forth, ever since that moment of lust-filled understanding between them. They’ve agreed to meet up for dinner the next evening, and Belle’s torn between nervousness and excitement. What if he’s got a really squeaky voice in person? What if he smells funny? What if he just doesn’t match up to all the expectations that she’s built up around him over all the time that they have lived opposite each other?

Still, that’s a problem for tomorrow-Belle. Tonight, she’s alone. She glances over at the apartment opposite, in complete darkness. He has to work late tonight. Belle sits in her kitchen windowsill, gazing out into the moonlight. There’s no-one to see in the building opposite, all the drapes drawn and blinds pulled down. It’s a quiet and lonely night.

Belle remembers that night and the thrill of watching as Gold had presented his cock to her, showing her what she might know in person one day. Hopefully she’ll know it soon. She was not at all disappointed by her preview, and she feels the first little frissons of arousal begin to build between her legs again at the memory.

She closes her eyes, slipping one hand down inside her panties and coaxing her sensitive clit out, rubbing at the little pearl until she’s gasping, her legs quivering. Belle throws her head back, pushing one finger up inside, into the hot and ready wetness.

She’s so close, almost at the edge, when her phone begins to ring loudly, jerking her out of the moment as effectively as a cold shower. She has to double take when she sees the caller. It’s Gold, and she’s in two minds about whether or not to answer. This will be the first time that she’s ever heard his voice. At least if it is really squeaky, she can cancel tomorrow night and never need to worry about the rest of him not living up to her mental image.

She grabs the phone and answers, trying to sound nonchalant and not too breathless.

“Hello.”

“Please, don’t let me interrupt.”

A fresh shiver of pleasure runs down Belle’s spine, because he has the most delicious Scottish brogue she’s ever heard. She glances across at the other building and sees him standing at his window, smirking as he watches her, just like she watched him.

She grins, and slips her hand back into her underwear to finish the job. She’s always preferred watching, never really knowing what it would be like for the roles to be reversed, but there’s definitely a thrill in it, being so brazenly public but knowing that Gold is the only one to see her.

“You do look wonderful like that,” he purrs in her ear. “You should put on a show more often.”

“Only if I get another one from you.”

“With pleasure, Belle.”

Looking across, she sees his hand down his own trousers, and she doesn’t hold back her moans of delight as she brings herself back up to that peak again. Down the phone, she can hear Gold’s grunts of arousal as he does the same across the way. It makes it far more of a performance, knowing that he can hear the noises she’s making, and yet it also makes it more intimate in a way.

Perhaps others would find it strange, engaging in phone sex with a man she’s never even touched before, but Belle doesn’t find it so. She’s a sexual being and always has been, even if she’s never had all that many relationships. There are plenty of apps and websites out there for people looking for a casual hook-up. This is no different, in a way. Her tastes are eclectic and Gold complements them perfectly. Finding each other like this has been fate; she’s sure of it.

She cries out as she comes, warm and dripping and pulsing around her fingers.

“Beautiful,” Gold growls in her ear. “I can almost feel it.”

Belle bites her lip, an idea coming to her. Fair is fair, after all. She’s already seen what Gold has to offer, and it’s not as if there’s anyone else around to see her. She shifts around on the windowsill so that he can get a better view and wriggles out of her panties, lifting her skirt to show him her glistening sex, plump and pink and still wanting more as she comes back down to earth from her orgasm.

Gold groans on the other end of the phone. “You know, I think you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Well, you know what they say about la petite mort,” Belle says. She touches her clit again, chasing down the afterglow. “Go on, then. Let go. I’m watching you.”

She sees his hands shaking as he puts the phone down and unfastens his belt, trousers hitting the floor. His boxers are tented and he grips his cock through the silk, but then he stops. Belle licks her lips.

“Belle… Do you… Would you…”

Belle lets her skirt drop again, wondering whether he’s going to ask the same thing that she’s thinking. If they can get each other this hot whilst in completely different buildings, what would it be like if they were in the same building? In the same room? Able to touch each other instead of just themselves?

“Would you like to maybe do this in person?” she suggests, finishing the sentence for him. Forget their dinner date tomorrow, or perhaps not. There’s no reason why this courtship has to proceed along pre-defined lines. Sex and then dinner, rather than dinner and then sex.

“Yeah.” He breathes out, and it almost sounds like a sigh of relief that they’re both on the same page. “That was what I was trying to say.”

There’s a moment of silence. Belle feels her fluids beginning to cool on her skin, and Gold has let go of his cock, leaving it bobbing eagerly in front of him. It’s the ultimate moment of truth, when all their preconceptions of each other will be swept away. Belle’s ready for it now. She only hopes that Gold is too.

“Your place or mine?” she finally asks, before taking the decision herself. “I’ll come to you.”

He gives her his apartment number and she grabs her purse and a light jacket before scampering out of her apartment and across the few short feet that separate the buildings. He buzzes her in, and the ride up in the elevator seems to take forever. It’s only when she’s standing outside his door that she realises she didn’t put her panties back on in her haste to get over here. Ah well, they’re redundant anyway for what they’re about to do.

She rings the doorbell. It’s time for the moment of truth. Meeting each other for the first time in person, whilst they’re both dishevelled and caught up in the heat of the moment. It’s an agonising wait for him to answer, but it can only be a few seconds. Then they’re standing in front of each other with no glass between them.

“Hello.” Belle’s tongue feels like it’s a leaden weight in her mouth. He’s even more attractive in person and he definitely doesn’t smell funny. In fact, he smells very nice, his cologne sharp and fresh.

“Hello.” He stands back to let her in. He’s pulled his trousers back up, but his belt is still hanging loose and his fly’s still open, and Belle can clearly see the bulge in the front of his boxers. She looks around his apartment as he closes the door behind her, and she gazes through the glass into her own darkened space before she sets her purse down on the sofa, staking her claim and cementing her right to be here, justifying her decision. Yes, she has definitely done the right thing in coming over, and she can’t wait to get started on whatever might come next. Given both of their states, she hopes she already knows what’s coming next.

“It’s nice to meet you properly, at last,” Gold says.

“Likewise.”

There’s an awkward moment. Should they make small talk when they’ve already seen each other masturbate and they’re both so uncomfortably aroused that all Belle wants to do is jump the man’s bones?

In the end, Belle cuts her losses, crossing the room towards Gold with confidence and slipping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. She takes him by surprise, but not for long, and soon his tongue is pushing eagerly between her lips, his hands sliding down her back to cup her ass and squeeze. Who cares if they’re doing things backwards? They’ve both wanted this for the last week, perhaps a little longer if they’re honest with each other. There will be time for getting to know each other later, and for now, all Belle wants is to have this man with no strings attached yet.

They make it through into his bedroom and collapse down onto the bed, Belle’s fingers flying over Gold’s shirt buttons, yanking them open, whilst his hand creeps up under her skirt. He grins down at her as he finds her knicker-less and swipes his thumb along her slit, spreading around the warm juices that are readily flowing again in anticipation. Belle arches her back at the sensation, her fight to get him out of his clothes momentarily forgotten. He’s as confident with his fingers on her as he is with them on himself, and Belle wants to feel them everywhere. She scrabbles out of her top and bra, taking his other hand and pressing her breast up against his palm. Gold takes the hint, pinching and rubbing at her nipple as it pebbles under his fingers, and Belle groans. This is so much better in person than from across the darkness between their two buildings.

Eventually they break away, tearing their hands away from each other in order to get the rest of their clothes off. There’s no finesse in their disrobing, just the desire to be naked as soon as possible, and there’s no awkwardness or shyness. They’ve seen it all already, and now they are just experiencing it all close up.

Gold grabs a condom from the nightstand before letting Belle push him back against the pillows, straddling him and rubbing herself up against his hard length. His long, delicate fingers come back between her legs and stroke over her clit, making her shiver on top of him. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands, and why on earth didn’t they do this together sooner?

Belle cries out as he pushes a finger up inside her and soon adds another, and idly she wonders if the lady with the Dobermans next door can hear them, before deciding that she really doesn’t care. She’s almost reached her climax again, and when she does tumble over the edge, she feels a huge burst of pleasure that she could not have reached at her own hand.

Slowly, Gold pulls his fingers out of her and sucks her dripping warmth off his hand. Belle dives in for another kiss, tasting herself in his mouth, and then he’s turned them again, settling between her thighs and lining them up. There aren’t any words as they move together, Belle wrapping her legs around his back to keep him close. They aren’t at the talking stage of their relationship yet; still practically strangers. Once this deed is done and their lust is sated, then they will talk. For now though, there is only pleasure and the heady thoughts of it, satisfying a long-dormant need that they can only fill with each other.

Gold swears when he comes, his hips stilling and his hair dropping down into his eyes. Belle pushes it aside so that she can see his face.

“That was…” he begins.

“...wow,” Belle agrees. “Why did we waste time texting back and forth for a week?”

Gold just chuckles, pulling out of her and rolling over to get rid of the condom. They stay lying together in the cooling for a while, and they begin to talk, learning more about each other as if they haven’t just had mind-blowing sex. Gold’s stomach growls, a reminder that he hasn’t had chance to have dinner yet, and they order in Thai, eating in bed naked, their conversation carrying on late into the night, and culminating in them falling into each other’s arms again.

As she drifts off, Belle can see her own apartment through a gap where the bedroom drapes haven’t been pulled across fully, and she smiles. It is not the most conventional of beginnings to their relationship, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold

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damnit-samnit · 5 years

Text

Chapter 22 Preview

Here’s a preview for the chapter that will drop after the holiday chapters (so first week of Jan).

Hope you guys enjoy it.

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Hospitals had a very distinct smell to them.

It was hard to describe -- a strange mixture of sterileness, flesh, dankness and cleanliness that settled not just in your nose but at the back of your tongue too, adding an unpleasant level of taste to it. The combination of notes was very specific to hospitals. An aroma not easily replicated and, strangely enough, wasn’t particularly permeating either. Once you left the building, the smell would be gone.

But boy was it memorable. If you were ever on a game show and needed to ‘Guess That Smell,’ it would easy to pick out the stench of hospital among those presented.

You didn’t want to be there.

The large elevator you were standing in was slowing its already snail-like pace, carefully settling itself flush against the third floor.

You were headed to the fifth.

Two medical personnel in well-worn green scrubs were chatting to one another as the elevator doors opened. Though they caught sight of you waiting inside, they didn’t cease their conversation on medication dosage or change the decibel of their voices as they entered. They just pretended you weren’t there, which suited you just fine.

You gripped the stuffed bear in your hands tighter, staring at the elevator buttons, drawing imaginary shapes and lines in the grid-like assembly. Part of you wanted to mash ‘door close’ but you refrained, afraid your new companions would think your impatience was a slight against them.

The newcomers hadn’t selected another floor.

You were all headed to the same place.

It was hard not to listen in on what your the elevator’s newest occupants were talking about. Laparoscopic cholecystectomy resulting in complications. Bile leakage. Fever of 39 Celsius. Suggestion? A handful of milligrams of some kind of multi-syllable medication that mentally made your tongue twist yet they said so effortlessly.

The elevator was crawling to a stop again. The fifth floor. When the doors eventually opened, the two hospital personnel burst out with quick, purposefully strides. A stark contrast to your meek, hesitating form. They knew where they were going.

You did not.

Arrows pointing to clusters of room numbers were fixed on the wall in peeling black stickers. You were looking for room 523, which was to the right.

So, that’s the direction you headed in.

As you walked, you peeked into the rooms you passed. Nurses tending to patients in beds, crisp blue privacy curtains drawn, family visits in progress...

But mostly, you saw loneliness. Boredom.

517… 519… 521…

The door to Room 523, you could see, was propped open.

You stopped just shy of it.

Anxiety.

Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.

It was a hospital visit you had been putting off.

But you couldn’t put it off any longer.

You stepped into the doorway, rapping lightly on the heavy wooden door, not quite crossing the threshold into the room. The mousey woman seated on the bed looked up, breaking out into a smile when she caught sight of you. Gently she called your name, gesturing with her head for you to enter.

“Hey Mikki,” you said, the ghost of a tired smile appearing on your face, worms still wriggling in your belly. What to say? What to say? “How you feelin’?”

It was a dumb question and immediately you thought about using your quirk for a possible redo, but Mikki was giving you a one-shoulder shrug.

“Hanging in there,” she said with a smile still affixed to her face. “I’m glad you came! It’s been so slow today!”

You nodded as you tried not to look at the arm settled limply in her lap. She wasn’t a fool, she could obviously see and feel your uncomfortableness.

“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” she suggested, pointing at the empty seat in the corner. “My husband went to go pick up the kids from school, so he won’t be back until after dinner.”

“Yeah, sure… Oh! Here, I, uh, got you this…”

You held the stuffed bear out to her before faltering, afraid that maybe having her hold something wasn’t the best decision, but Mikki was already reaching out for it with her good hand.

“Thank you,” she said brightly, taking the creature and settling it on the bed beside her. “It’s cute. I love him.”

After dragging the chair to her bedside, you fell into an awkward lull, unsure where to start. Maybe ask her how she was? How her kids were? How her husband was? What was it like to have a wonky arm? Drag her into a conversation about yourself? You didn’t want to immediately start talking about your issues as she was obviously the one going through major trauma but damn if you didn’t have a lot you wanted to get off your chest. You weren’t sure you even should address the feelings that had been plaguing you since Odaiba Research’s destruction.

It wasn’t that you weren’t close with Mikki but it was a work friendship. She was your co-worker. Your relationship was not like one you had with your real friends -- they had been a choice, she hadn’t been. There was an obvious wall there -- a general niceness that wasn’t so much forced as it was required, as she was someone you had to work with.

It was just lucky that you did genuinely like her.

Kids seemed like a safe topic, so you cleared your throat, prepared to ask about them when she beat you to the punch.

“I want to thank you,” Mikki said after a quiet inhale. “For saving me.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear.

It was like an arrow straight into the whirling eye of contempt you had for yourself.

Your shoulders slumped, distressed creases forming on your forehead. Everything in you was untying all at once and you just wanted her to take what she just said back.

“Mikki…” you voice sounded strangled and you swallowed but that squeeze of emotion hadn’t released its grip on your throat. “Please…”

“If you hadn’t been there, I would have died.”

“Mikki…” Don’t admit it. Don’t admit it. “Please don’t thank me. You don’t understand, I don’t deserve--”

“Stop it. You know--”

Don’t admit it. Don’t admit it. Don’t admit it.

��I wanted to leave you,” you blurted out in a great rush, the need to get the truth off your chest too great to ignore. She looked taken aback by your outburst. “Don’t think I was some real hero. Please. I was looking for a way out the entire time. I wanted to leave you, Mikki.”

Quiet filled the room again. You could hear voices in the hallway perfectly. Nurses talking about what they had for dinner.

It would be a short visit, wouldn’t it?

That truth had been the reason you had avoided visiting her ever since her injury. You were ashamed that you had taken on the title of hero when, in truth, you were very far from it. Instead of owning up to your failings as a human being, you kept quiet.

Sure, you weren’t boasting about the misappropriated praise -- in fact, every meeting and photo op made your stomach churn. Still, you didn’t fess up to the truth. You kept silent.

You were guilty of being a coward.

“But you didn’t,” she murmured. You paused before lifting heavy hands, showing her your palms, still very much defeated.

“Only because I was afraid of the guilt.”

“You didn’t,” she repeated with more force. “You didn’t leave.”

“I--”

“You stayed. You could have just ignored me but you didn’t. You stayed and when I--” she cleared her throat. “When I was… crushed. You… saved me. You brought me back.”

And then she was crying, great globs spilling from bright brown eyes. Your throat went even tighter and you felt yourself inch toward the brink of tears as well.

“I died,” she said, her crying turning into sobs. You were getting more and more distressed, your empathy on overdrive for once. “But you saved me. You could have left but you didn’t and you saved me. I still have my family.”

What could you say? Nothing seemed… worthy of saying at the moment.

So you sat quietly, staring at your hands, waiting until Mikki settled down into body-rocking sniffles.

“I don’t want to be labeled a hero,” you mumbled, picking at your cuticles. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You’re a hero to me.”

“Please don’t tell me that. Please.”

You weren’t a hero. You were far from it, actually. You knew your true heart but the world at large didn’t. They just thought you were a citizen-turned-do-gooder, someone who risked their life to partake in a selfless act in a moment of crisis.

Not someone who gave villains the tools they needed to cause chaos. Not someone who inadvertently gave bad guys the means to hurt, maim and take lives. To rob and destroy.

For money.

Not someone who had been sleeping with All Might for months.

Had been.

“So it’s official that you’re leaving, then?” you said, forcing the conversation in a new direction. Mikki wiped her nose on the front of her hospital gown before nodding.

She had been in the hospital for weeks and you hadn’t worked up the courage to face her. Or steeled your stomach enough to pretend you were the hero the big-wigs had been making you out to be. When she finally got access to her cell phone, you had sent a few polite messages to each other -- you always doubling-down on the promise that you were going to visit soon.

In the last real message she sent you, she revealed she was being discharged.

And would promptly be relocating to Denmark.

That had been the push you needed to commit to your first, and what would probably be only, visit.

Mikki nodded, a large sigh expanding her chest.

“There’s a doctor there who has a quirk that might let me use my arm again. But the waitlist to see her is quite long. My husband was able to get a transfer to his company office there and has been working on getting our visas together.”

“How long will you be there?”

“I don’t know.”

You nodded, shifting your jaw, realizing this was already morphing into a possible goodbye conversation. Sheepishly you looked up to her arm, eyes darting away when you saw your glance had been noticed by her. She gave you a lopsided smile that didn’t quite match her usual matronly appearance.

“They were able to bring in a specialist with a bone and tissue regeneration quirk,” she said, looking down at her unmoving limb. “But they couldn’t fix the nerve damage. They said the doctor in Denmark might be able to but the more time that passes, the lower the odds become. That’s why we’re on a bit of a time crunch leaving.”

“Can you feel anything?” you asked, compelled by morbid curiosity. She shook her head.

“No. I can’t move it and I can’t feel anything there. It’s strange, I sometimes think I can still feel it. I usually wear it in a sling but…” she trailed off. “For now, it looks like my costume designing days are over.”

“Mikki--” you said, brows furrowing.

“Who knows, maybe not for good. But it’s hard to sew with one hand. And sketch. We’ll see what the future holds. People can do amazing things when given tough circumstances.”

It was such a mom thing to say. Despite the levity of the discussion, you found yourself grinning at the floor.

“I’m gonna miss you, Mikki,” you said, momentarily squeezing your eyes closed. “I really am. You were the best thing to come out of my time at Odaiba. I’m glad to have met you.”

“Don’t act like we’re never going to see each other again, kiddo!” she said face lighting up that the mood of the room was shifting. “You’ll see. I’ll bet my good arm I’ll be back here in two years time, maybe three!”

“Once you get all patched up, open up your own business and let me come work for you.”

“Deal,” she said with enough conviction that something airy bloomed in your chest. “Have you gotten a temporary work assignment yet? Some of the others have been emailing me. Looks like everyone on our team is getting split up.”

The airy feeling was gone already.

“Yeah,” you groaned, body growing heavy. “I’m being assigned to assist on the Endeavor Agency team with Doctor Kravitz as an assistant. I start in a week, I think. The first day I’m due in at 5 a.m.”

“Very prestigious,” Mikki commented. You shrugged, playing with the cuffs of your hooded sweater and she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Something is bothering you.”

“I’m just tired,” you said almost immediately, so used to using the excuse that it was second-nature to default to it. “It’s been… a trying couple of weeks.”

It was a gross understatement but you weren’t about to delve into the deep fissures that had cracked and ruined your heart. You didn’t have that type of relationship with her and, frankly, you didn’t want to talk about it.

Some people had the ability to cry and share their feelings with others.

It wasn’t so easy for you.

“You can tell me,” she said so soothingly, having caught the shadow of an expression on your face. You cracked a smile, blinking rapidly as you looked at the grating, cheap blankets on her hospital bed.

No, you would never talk about All Might to her.

There was, however, something else you could admit to her. A kernel of a thought that had appeared in your mind and had grown larger and more encompassing at each passing second. Hell, you were a failure already. A ‘nobody’ as a certain someone so eloquently barked at you.

Why not prove them right again?

Why not fail, again?

That was the one constant about you.

“I think…” you inhaled loudly before clearing your throat, finally meeting her eyes. “I think I’m gonna quit.” You paused before shaking your head. “Actually… no, this is not an ‘I think’ -- I am gonna quit the lab. Officially. I can’t do it, Mikki. I can’t. I’m just… I’m not cut out for it.”

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tinyvantae · 6 years

Text

Stay - Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: Landing your dream role in the new Avengers movie and moving to an apartment at LA was supposed to be great. But luck it seems was not on your side. Or is it? You are sure though that living with Tom Holland was either the best or the worst decision you have ever made.

Your superhero character is Black Cat (Felicia Hardy)

Prompt from @d-rklights : you just got cast in the next avengers movie and need to find an apartment to live in tom offers his place in the mean time but you never end up moving out :) can be platonic or romantic

Part 2

Chapter 1

".......I am so sorry,(Y/N)"

The building manager, Mr. Smith, bowed his head in apology for the 5th time as you both stared at your apartment's living room in horror.

A burst pipe

Of all the rotten luck, you think to yourself as you surveyed the damage. The water had been cleaned up before you arrived but the state of the room was still sad.

Sad and soaked.

You were surprised when Smith called you while you were filming last night, saying that there was an emergency. You couldn't duck out of the set so you told him you'll be there as soon as you can.

Soon being the next morning. Meaning you were tired and wanted nothing more than to crash on your bed.

You sighed and entered the apartment, noticing the still damp floorboards.

"Thankfully this is the worst of the damage"

Smith entered the room as well, wincing as his eyes landed on the carpet, the couch, and finally on the TV.

"The water made it to your room as well but not high enough to cause any real damage."

Tell that to my shoes

You made a beeline to your walk-in closet and sure enough the shoes you've meticulously arranged at the bottom the week before were drenched. You ran a hand over your other clothes, and let out a sigh of relief. Dry.

You reached up to take your suitcases down. Trying to keep your cool as you placed them on your bed.

A slight touch on the duvet confirmed that it was dry. This was turning to a sad game of wet or dry.

Smith rambled on as you started to collect your stuff.

"We will of course return your deposit and pay for any damage to your personal belongings." He scratched the back of his neck as he watched you pack. He seemed to have aged by 5 years overnight and you took pity upon seeing the dark circles under his eyes. He must have spent the night cleaning up the mess.

Smith was always nice to you when he saw you enter the building after a shoot. Always smiling and asking about your day. Truthfully, he was one of the reasons why you loved this apartment. A friendly face was always good especially since you're new in town.

You gave him a small smile as you continued to place your things in the case.

"Don't sweat it Mr. Smith, most of these were bought by my agency anyways. I'll tell them there's no need."

"But-"

You held up your hand to stop his protests.

"Really, I insist. Use that money to fix this place up. I'm betting that it'll cost a lot"

He gave you a smile that crinkled the edge of his eyes.

"I can never get anything past you, can't I?"

"Nope"

You dumped the last of your clothes in the suitcase and closed it with a snap. Turning to the manager, you gave one last look over your bedroom to see if you missed anything.

All set

"It'll take at least a month to fix everything up"

You're heart sunk as you tried to think of where you'll stay for the meantime. You made a mental note to call your manager soon to let her know that you were homeless at the moment.

"Of course, you're welcome to stay here when it's done. 2 months free of charge!"

“Then I will take you up on that offer, Mr. Smith! I love this apartment. I’ll come back when everything’s fixed.”

He took the cases from you and insisted to carry them to your car outside. There was a small frown on his face as he lugged them down the front steps.

“Where will you be staying? If you want to, I can make a few calls, see if anyone I know has a free space for rent”

“Hmm, I’ll probably go back to the studio for today. Crash in my trailer before looking for a new place.”

Though you seriously doubt that you’ll get another one as good as this in such a short notice. It took you months to finally find this place. It was near the movie studios and in a good neighborhood. Not too pricey, it was perfect place to start for someone like you who’ve just gotten her first major role.

“Well if you’re sure” He placed the luggage in the trunk “Promise that you’ll stay safe? A trailer is no place for rising star”

You snorted at that and climbed inside your car “Rising? Doubtful. Star? Still doubtful. I was just lucky”

Smith closed the door for you and leaned at the window “Luck has nothing to do with it kid. You must be talented for those big shots to notice you, right?”

“That is strictly confidential” You revved up your car and waved goodbye “Let me know when I can come back, okay?”

“Sure thing! I’ll spruce this place up. Take advantage of the renovations. Really sorry for the mess, (Y/N)”

You shouted back as you drove away towards the studios.

“Good luck, Mr. Smith! I’ll be waiting for your call!

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

You stumbled to your trailer as you struggled with your bags. Feeling the effect of the sleepless night creep up on you. Some of the staff looked at you curiously as you moved past them. The studio was already busy with preparing for today’s shoot. Some of the actors already milling around with coffees in their hands.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

You turned around and saw Harrison Osterfield trying to catch with you.

“Good morning, Harrison. What’s up?”

Harrison was one of the people that you’ve easily made friends with upon arriving at the set. It helped that your ages weren’t too far apart but it maybe also because the guy was actually very nice. He talked to you during breaks. Even giving you a few tips since he’d been in the acting scene far longer.

He took in the suitcases you were pulling and your slightly haggard appearance. He gestured at the bags and raised a questioning brow.

“Did you just run away from home?”

You rolled your eyes at him before continuing your walk to your trailer.

“Haha very funny”

He took one of your suitcase away to help you. He laughed as he fell into step beside you.

“Seriously, (Y/N), what’s with all the luggage? Are you planning to move into your trailer?”

“That’s the plan” You mumbled and felt the heat in your cheeks as you basically admitted that you have nowhere else to go.

Harrison started to laugh again but stopped short upon seeing your serious expression.

“What the hell? You’re kidding right? What happened? I just saw you post a picture in your apartment like a day ago”

You explained about the burst pipes and about looking for a new place to stay as you reached your trailer. You plopped down on the small couch inside and covered your tires eyes with an arm, not seeing the grin that was slowly forming on Harrison’s face.

“That’s some bad luck you have there, Black Cat”

You removed your arm from your face and glared at him. The lack of sleep and the realization that you were stuck in your trailer indefinitely was putting you in a cranky mood.

“Don’t you have somewhere else you have to be? I think I hear your boss calling you.”

“And cue the claws” He chuckled as he made his way to the trailer door “I’ll let you get to your much-needed beauty sleep. Wouldn’t want the boss to worry about me. You know he’s hopeless without me helping him out.”

Though your mind was getting hazy from the pull of sleep, you were able to laugh as you settled more comfortably on the couch.

“Shut the door you div”

The last thing you heard was Harrison’s laugh and a muffled “Sweet dreams, (Y/N)”

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

“Mate! Where’d you sneak off to?”

Harrison entered Tom’s trailer and sat down next to his best friend. Tom was already in costume, going over his lines. There were a few Spiderman scenes to be shot today and he didn’t want to throw Tom off track but he couldn’t pass the opportunity to mess with him.

“Just catching up with my favorite feline”

If he hadn’t known Tom for so long then he would have missed how the brunette had slightly tensed upon realizing that he was talking about you.

“Oh? How is she? Isn’t she a bit early? They won’t be shooting her scenes until this afternoon, right?”

He didn’t look up from the script but his attempt to be casual was in vain. Harrison had already noted that Tom looked at your schedule and may have memorized it. He gave a dramatic sigh and made a show of shaking his head.

“Not good. The little kitten just became a stray.”

Tom choked at Harrison’s choice of words and turned to hit his friend with the script in his hand.

“What the fuck, you freak! You are a creepy old man, mate”

Harrison fended off the attack while laughing.

“It’s the truth! I just dropped off the poor thing at her trailer. Dude, I helped her out with her stuff. She said that there was an accident at her flat. A faulty water pipe or something. The owner had to get her out for renovations. She’s probably sleeping right now. She looked dead tired.”

Tom landed one last hit on Harrison’s head before a knock interrupted.

“TOM! We’re ready for you on set!”

“I’ll be there in a sec!”

Tom stood up, shaking his head to clear his head. He needed to get into character. But the thought of you sleeping in your trailer kept popping up in his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair and made his way to the trailer door with Harrison following behind him.

They were walking towards the set when Harrison placed an arm around Tom’s shoulders and leaned in close to his ear.

“You got this mate! Kill it on set and I’ll look into how we can adopt a stray”

Tom shook his best friend off, giving him one last glare before reaching the set. Harrison simply shook in silent laughter, his mind already forming plans. This will be an interesting couple of months at the very least.

FEEDBACKS PLEASE!

Chapter 2 Preview

You stepped out of your trailer, planning to make a run to a nearby cafe.

“Hey roomie”

You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned to see Tom Holland leaning against your trailer. He was still in costume minus the mask and he had a smile plastered on his face.

“Roomie?

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #mcu imagine

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sjjms · 6 years

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pretending | part 10

pairing: yugyeomxreader length: 2.1k words genre: slight fluff & angst? summary: no longer pretending?

preview part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 final

“These are the latest fansite photos of Yugyeom…” Daeho sighs sliding over the tablet to you, you didn’t exactly want to see them either. You glanced over them, it was enough to see the hat and mask to know Yugyeom wasn’t in a good place. Neither were you at the minute, but at least you felt better today. “At the minute the reason Yugyeom’s delayed flight was because of family reasons but since your dating news is going to be released soon, the reason soon may be twisted. The company have proposed that you release the news yourself through social media and the company will push for family reasons since it is technically true."

“Does Yugyeom agree to this?” You ask if Yugyeom agreed to it. You would as well, you had been ready to release the news for months now. Everything with Yugyeom was good and stable, the one thing you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone is your engagement.

“He said he would follow your decision.” You nodded, you expected that. The news was going to be released sooner or later by reporters anyway, you got off lucky holding off the news for this long.

“It will be better do it ourselves, you should get Yugyeom on the phone so we can post it at the same time.” Daeho hands over his phone to you, you noticed Yugyeom had been on the other end this whole time. You would finally get to hear his voice, you had missed it even when it had only been a couple of hours.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.” Yugyeom replies, you wanted more than anything to see his face. “How are you feeling? Did you take the medication I left out for you?”

“Of course I did, at least I know you arrived safely.” The important thing was his mental wellbeing as well but you thought it was best to talk about that privately later if you had the chance. You didn’t know how your day was going to pan out. “Look at our situation now.” It was amusing, all of this, to you at least. You were always warned not to get caught, you were caught in the act and now been given an opportunity.

“At least we can go out in public now.” You could sense the amusement in his voice too, he had caught onto what you had meant with your words. “Imagine all the convenience stores and streets we can walk down together hand in hand.”

“After the news is released, it will either go two ways, it could be good for us or it could be bad. So… I think I’m going to stay with my parents until you come back.” You felt as if you were trying to break up with Yugyeom with your words, it felt like a break if you weren’t going to see him for a few weeks. You couldn’t wait for the day where you could finally hug him again.

“By the sea? I'm envious of you.” Yugyeom whispers, you could feel as if he was smiling on the other end. He’d only talked to your parents once through a video call because he happened to show up at your apartment while you were trying to say goodbye. You looked up to feel Daeho’s glare on you, reminding you to get back to the point instead of drifting into your own thoughts.

“What are you going to say?” You ask already pulling out your own phone to start typing up a draft, it was likely going to be changed slightly by Daeho but as long as what you were trying to get across wasn't removed then you didn't mind.

“That I found my happiness being with you.” You giggled a little as you wrote something similar to his, “Why? Do you find that too cheesy?” Yugyeom asks with a chuckle in his voice. “Or shall I just put it all on the line and put I love you instead?”

“Just stick with the happiness part because it’s the truth.”

“The truth is that I also love you. I love you.” Yugyeom whispers as it made you smile slightly, musing on how much you appreciated and cared about Yugyeom. You didn’t want to lose him or more importantly, you couldn’t lose him.

“Let me concentrate. I’ve almost finished.” Your thoughts on dating Yugyeom without revealing too much came naturally, you’d been prepared for the news to break ever since the warning. You gave your phone to Daeho to look over briefly before he gave you the nod of approval, you were surprised that it was agreed too straight away. “Are you ready to post it?”

“Just remember we love each other and we can get through this.” You pressed send while receiving the notification for Yugyeom’s post. You read over your post again even though it was too late to change what you had said, you even admired yourself for showing the glimmer of courage you had shown today.

For some time now I’ve had the privilege to know what happiness feels like without it I feel as if I would still be wandering this path of life alone. I am thankful for all the love and support I have received throughout my career and hope you will continue to in the future. I am currently in a relationship with GOT7’s Yugyeom and have been for some time now. Please support us both as we continue in our respective roles in this industry.

“I should let you go, you’ll have rehearsals soon and interviews to do.” Yugyeom let out a sigh as you knew well that he had to face his reality and so did you.

“I miss you. I’ll call you again after the concert.” You nodded to yourself, you were going to spend the rest of the day alone. But it would allow you to pin down your real thoughts and maybe your songwriting would flow again.

“I miss you too. Make sure to take yourself, I need you to come back to me in one piece.”

You hear Yugyeom chuckle again with your parting words, “I should be telling you to take care of yourself, bye.” You responded with a goodbye as well before returning the phone to its owner. You glanced over to Daeho already furrowing his eyebrows, there must already be news articles.

“Are the comments good or bad?” You ask with a waver of your voice, maybe you shouldn’t have released it today… It could affect the numbers of fans that turn up for the concert tonight. You were going to feel even worse than you did if numbers dropped.

“Mostly… there are congratulations, some saying they knew it others say it’s a surprise but a nice one.” You heard no negatives from Daeho, that was good. But as the day went on there was bound to be some bad comments, it was a normal thing in this industry no matter the piece of news being released.

“I’ll take that. I’m going to the studio to produce something.” Anything. Your mind needed to be distracted before having to go face your parents. They weren’t bad people, they were the nicest people that you knew. You just didn’t want to tell them the real reason you were there, you knew they would figure out something was wrong though.

“I’ll call you if anything changes in your schedule.” You nodded and left Daeho to do what he did best. You walked down to your studio for the first time in a few weeks, you unlocked the door with the passcode revealing one of Yugyeom’s hoodies on the sofa. He must have been here recently, you thought to yourself.

You noticed a blue post-it note on the computer screen, sitting down in front of the screen you picked up the note. It read: Just listen. You were slightly confused, did Yugyeom leave this? He was one of the few that produced who knew the passcode to the studio and the password to your computer. Well, he was the only one that knew the password. He had left open the music programme you’d recently installed after it was recommended to you. You pressed play letting your ears be filled with what he had produced, when did he have time to make all of this? You felt overwhelmed by what he had created. If you added lyrics to this it would make one emotional ballad and maybe that’s what you needed, to release all your emotions through song.

You leaned back in the chair sighing to yourself, you wiped away the tears. You needed to be strong to show everyone that you were alright on your own, you got up and pulled Yugyeom’s hoodie over your body. It was too big for you, even the sleeves covered your hands. You smile to yourself before leaving your studio, you didn’t think it was best to stay around if you were just going to be distracted.

You made your way down to the exit greeting members of staff as you did, you opened up the door seeing the usual coffee shop across the street at its peak business time. You had never seen the coffee shop quiet only when it was closed, it was a way for fans to take a look at artists coming and going. A few fans started to follow you as you walked up the street, there was no way of escaping them unless you ran and you were supposed to be taking it easy. “Y/N, congratulations on your relationship.” A couple of them said and you smiled at the ones who did. They expressed their jealousy in an envious way, you were once in the same position as them. Envying a relationship of your favourite idol when you were younger but you had become the envied if that wasn’t a glow up what was? You always knew you wanted to work in the entertainment industry whether it be a producer or a writer instead you were scouted.

“Y/N, when are you going to release new music?” You were caught off guard by that question usually you didn’t get asked about your music even though you prefer it over acting sometimes.

“I’m currently working on it, I hope to release it soon.” You flashed a smile briefly at the person who asked before finally reaching your car. “I’ll see you all soon.” You said goodbye to them and pulled yourself up into the front seat, you prefer having lower cars because they were easier to climb into but Daeho insisted on a taller one. One thing you were glad of was the tinted windows, you could finally hide from the world in the comfort of your car.

You decided to go back to your apartment first to pack a bag for wherever you went, you just wanted to be away from here for as long as you could be. It was already painful enough trying not to enter your apartment without reliving the pain you had gone through. You’d already told Daeho you were going to move your next step was finding a good apartment to move into, a place that was going to suit you and Yugyeom. This is why you needed Yugyeom with you but you knew he was busy, however, you suddenly had a thought. With the number of times, he had surprised you by showing up when he wasn’t meant to you could do the same to him. The only thing you didn’t know was the number of his hotel room… you could ask Daeho to find out but then he wouldn’t be too impressed you were visiting him. Or send one of the members a message.

You were going to have to do this by yourself, you didn’t mind you still remembered how to do things. You would only be flying to Japan, the company had strangely spread out the dates for the country in two groups and they were going through the second dates now. It was a country you were familiar with unlike places like Thailand or the Philippines but you wanted to travel and get to know them more. You booked your ticket on the next flight you knew you could make it to the airport on time. You would have to take a taxi to the airport in case your template was recognised, it was a hassle but a risk you didn’t want to take.

You sighed to yourself one last time before leaving your apartment at least you no longer had to be pretending.

#this is what happens when i can't sleep #but now i'm tired #so night guys #enjoy #pretending #kim yugyeom #yugyeom #got7 yugyeom #got7 scenarios #got7 au #got7 imagines #got7 fanfic

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hallythelantern-blog · 6 years

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Unpredictable, a MLB FF

Posted on: AO3 FFN

This fic, as a whole, includes AU Yeah August’s Prompt Soulmate (Day 1), Reincarnation (14), Reverse Crush (19; sorta. Adrien likes Marinette first.) and Miraculous Fluff Month’s Prompt First Kiss (11), Friends to Lovers (9), Unexpected Reveal (28; it’s not identity though, because there are no miraculouses in this fic), and Soulmates (31)

Summary: Marinette has visions: random flashes of images in her mind that appear at any time of the day. They all feature different characters and settings, each one as different from, if not more, than the last. However, when she meets a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed man, she finds her life changing in a way that she would never have expected. Soulmate AU.

A/N: I was looking at the Miraculous Fluff Month prompts when I saw Day 11's prompt, which was first kiss. I thought about doing something different from what one would usually think about when we usually think of a first kiss featuring Adrienette, and I eventually ended up using one of my old ideas on how Marinette would get images flashing in her head randomly (if i tell you more though, it would be spoilers) and created this monster. I'm thinking that it could be a two-shot or a three-shot. I am not exactly sure at this point.

Preview:

Marinette was clumsy but for the wrong reasons.

It wasn’t that she lacked coordination, by any chance. No; when she set her mind to it, she had the capacity of being extremely graceful, or so she had been called.

She still remembered taking gymnastics as a little girl. The coach had showered her with praise, excitedly talking about how she could create a star out of the blue-haired six year old within ten years time, all the while spewing the word like it was the answer to all of her problems. The amount of gushing and expectations (that had been already set ridiculously high) had only increased as the years went by, she remembered with both fondness and a bad taste in her mouth. Fond because she was able to push her body to her limits and be around girls her age that weren’t Chloé, bitter because throughout these years of being constantly pushed to her limits, Marinette regularly faced envy and jealousy from her fellow classmates.

Gymnastics was part of what had made Marinette Marinette , from the sheer dedication and work ethic she possessed when determined, to her overly accommodating nature that always put others above herself first.

However, outside of gymnastics, she always had and still did trip in midair or wandered about with a “lost look” in her eyes, as everyone liked to say, with seemingly no apparent purpose to outsiders. When contrasted with the seemingly effortless grace she possessed in competitions, this unexpected clumsiness, as people liked to call it, only served to baffle people. How could, they thought, such a talented gymnast be so clumsy?

Some people thought her clumsiness outside of gymnastics as endearing, while those with more malevolent emotions towards the bluenette claimed that she had been only doing this to get attention, and Chloé had definitely been part of the latter.

However, Marinette did not blame them for being so surprised. One time, the designer had almost walked in front of a red light. Had her best friend Alya not yanked Marinette back with a certain kind of practiced panic in her face, Marinette would have been roadkill -- literally.

Such happened so frequently that the red-head occasionally joked that being Marinette’s best friend required one to be somehow related to a bodyguard. Whether that meant that the person was a family of one, was one, or had been one in a past life, it did not matter. The only thing that was required of them was to “protect precious Marinette” from getting “steamrolled by the cold, unfeeling world,” as Alya had said to the blue-haired girl on a slumber party night.

Of course, Alya did not actually believe in past lives and only had mentioned that in passing, as her best friend was one of the most practical people Marinette had ever had the pleasure of meeting. But ever since Alya had uttered those words, the concept had fascinated the blue-haired girl and created a fire within her, a fascination that always seemed so out of reach to fulfill yet always there.

She never had gone out of her way to research about reincarnation or any other popular theories, however. She was perfectly fine with not knowing whether or not reincarnation held veracity. She was a simple girl with a simple life, she liked (and simultaneously disliked) to tell herself. Thus, she didn’t need to know the deep mysteries of the universe. She only needed to know the ones that mattered to her , were her own deep secrets of her own universe. Whether or not that coincided with the “truth” was an afterthought to Marinette, and so she had never been the one to subscribe to all the works on spirituality.

Many would have considered her a fool who just didn’t want to face the truth had they learned this about her. However, Marinette didn’t really careabout those haughty opinions. She doubted that everyone could have the exact same truth when each individual’s experiences were so differentfrom one another, after all. Everyone had basic commonalities, yes, and there was a likelihood that there would be a one cohesive truth that tied everyone’s truth together. The only difference in each person’s interpretation, then, would be the fact that they were accessing the truth from a different angle. But what difference was there if yin and yang were the ultimately the same? People saw them as opposite forces, and if one didn’t dig deep enough to see that it was, indeed, ultimately the same, they fervently believed in duality. Plus,the more general you became, the less personal and warm it became.

And as Marinette was a simple girl with a simple life, personal was practically her middle name.

In fact, she sometimes hated the fact that she took everything so personally. When a baby cried in the street after she had walked by them, she would think to herself that it was her doing. When a girl in her gymnastics class had given her the stink eye (which was likely from unwarranted jealousy, a fact she had to remind herself every time she beat herself up about these kinds of situations), she would immediately think to what she had done wrong to warrant such a response. When a ball was suddenly thrown from the left field of her life, she chastised herself for not seeing the hit coming when, looking back, it had been so obvious .

Even when Alya consoled her, saying that Marinette couldn’t have possibly seen that coming, and that it was truly unexpected to everyone, it did not help the bluenette feel any better. Expect the unexpected, the famous saying went, and Marinette always tried her hardest to live up to that motto. She had to be prepared for everything, at least mentally, because if she wasn’t, she didn’t know what she would do. She hated to even think of accepting the fact that there were always going to be unexpected situations in her life, no matter how much she could expect. So, she fervently denied it.

However, if one looked at her life in depth, even the mere thought that Marinette didn’t accept the unexpected would have been laughable .

Because like the saying that went “the only constant in life is change,” the only constant in her life was the unexpected.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic #ml soulmates #mlfluffmonth #ml au yeah august #au yeah august

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frontproofmedia · 3 years

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Jermell Charlo vs. Brian Castano Final Press Conference Quotes and Photos

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Published: July 16, 2021

SAN ANTONIO – WBC, WBA, and IBF world champion Jermell Charlo and WBO world champion Brian Castaño met face-to-face on Thursday at the final press conference to preview their undisputed 154-pound world championship showdown taking place this Saturday, July 17 live on SHOWTIME from AT&T Center in San Antonio in a Premier Boxing Champions event. Thursday’s press conference also featured unbeaten Interim WBA Lightweight Champion Rolando “Rolly” Romero and former title challenger Anthony Yigit, who meet in the co-main event, and unbeaten middleweight Amilcar Vidal and veteran contender Immanuwel Aleem, who battle in the telecast opener at 9 p.m. ET/6 p.m. PT. The hard-hitting unified champion Charlo and the exciting Argentine Castaño will go toe-to-toe as all of the super welterweight championship belts are on the line for the first time in the four-belt era. The highly anticipated matchup will add to the long and storied history of major championship fights to take place in San Antonio. Tickets for the live event, which is promoted by Lions Only Promotions and TGB Promotions, are on sale now and can be purchased through www.attcenter.com. Romero vs. Yigit is co-promoted with Mayweather Promotions. Here is what the press conference participants had to say Thursday from San Antonio: JERMELL CHARLO “I’m excited to be fighting back in Texas, but I’ll fight anywhere. As long as everyone tunes in, they know what time it is. I’m more than ready. I’m excited and anxious to get in the ring. “This is a dream come true. I’ve wanted to be undisputed since I was a child because this is the highest you can reach in boxing. Being in this moment really makes me thankful to my whole team who helped me get to this point. “Now is the time that me and my brother finally get the opportunity to show the world what we’re worth. This is the moment for us. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often, so I have to go out there and take advantage. “I’m not old enough to think about the Hall of Fame yet. I’m just focusing on the right now. I have a goal to accomplish that will take 36 minutes or less on Saturday. I’ll look into everything else that this means after Saturday night. “I don’t have any pressure on me. I’ve been in this position so many times in my life. If I felt the pressure, I wouldn’t be in this moment. He has to come and do his thing. He has to put the pressure on me and avoid these bombs I’m throwing. “I can’t predict the future, but just know that I’m stronger and faster than I was before. I just feel like I’m ready. I have power in every punch I throw and I’m thankful for this opportunity to face another champion. “I have the don’t blink attitude for this fight. You never know what could happen at any moment of any round. I’ve knocked people out in just about every round. We’re both in good shape, so we’re going to find out who’s better Saturday. “A focused Jermell is the most dangerous Jermell there could be. I have different skill sets that I can implement in this fight no matter what Castaño does. I have a lot that I can do depending what Castaño brings. “My loss was just all part of God’s plan. After the controversial loss, I got right back in there for the rematch. I had jet fuel in me and went on to unify and now we’re going to keep going. There’s no stopping the show. “It’s dangerous for him to come forward and walk into shots. Most opponents that I’ve faced who’ve done that, I’ve put them out. We’ll see if he’s able to stand up to the power. “I put my life on the line to feed my family. I have a lot of things that I need the boxing world to understand before my career is over. You can see that I’ve always faced tough opponents. My mindset was always stay focused, so you don’t get cut, like in the NFL. You have to work hard so nobody takes your position. That’s how I look at it mentally. I’m in a great position, but I still have a lot more to prove.” BRIAN CASTAÑO “For me and my team, this is yet another opportunity to lift Argentine boxing up and add another star to that legacy. That’s what I want and I’m enjoying this moment. I promise that on Saturday night, I’m going to leave it all in the ring for everybody. “He has all the pressure on him being in his home state. I’ve been training so hard for nine months and I’m comfortable as the underdog. I always come in as the underdog, so I don’t feel any pressure. “When it comes down to it, if I have to lower my punch output to put more power on my punches, then I will. I don’t like to focus on past fights, because we have our own game plans for this fight. I have a plan to come out victorious Saturday night. “We have a war to fight on July 17. I’m not thinking about anything beyond that fight. My mind is fully set on becoming undisputed champion Saturday night. “I guarantee the fans are going to enjoy this fight and won’t leave disappointed. Both of us are going to do whatever it takes to come out victorious and that will make sure the fans will love this fight. “I want to make not only Argentina, but all of Latin America proud. That’s what I want to do on Saturday night. “In the end, I can only focus on what I’m going to do. If Charlo wants to be more finesse, I can deal with that, and if he wants to brawl, then by all means I will welcome that as well. “Seeing Argentina win the Copa America last Saturday night motivated me even more. Messi deserved his title, and he made the entire country happy. I hope that the party can continue a week later with an undisputed champion as well “Height and reach are the only similarities between Jermell and Erislandy Lara and Michel Soro. He’s his own man and he’s certainly a tough opponent to face.” ROLANDO ROMERO “I’m going to stop him in the first round on Saturday. I’m confident in what I say and what I’ll do in the ring. “I love fighting lefties. I prepared to face a southpaw first in Austin Dulay anyway. This camp has been amazing. I can’t even talk about all the times I’ve stopped people in camp. “Like every single time I fight, make sure you show up on time. If you show up late, you’re going to miss a knockout. “I’m just a different fighter from these other lightweights. You can’t prepare for me because I’m awkward. No one has ever seen my style before, plus I have power. “I’m just happy Yigit stepped up and took this fight. I’m used to people not taking fights with me. I can’t knock him on that. “I said I like fighting southpaws because they’re easier to hit, simple as that. Look at what I do to southpaws. I didn’t have to change my preparation at all with the change in opponent. A southpaw is a southpaw, it’s not like he’s Manny Pacquiao.” ANTHONY YIGIT “I’m not worried about my layoff from the ring. I’m always training and making sure that I’m in shape and ready for fights like these. “I fought for the world title once, so I know that people are going to try to bring me in last minute with my experience and try to catch me off-guard. I was already prepared for war, so everything worked out as planned. “If anything, 135 pounds is my real weight class. In Europe I’ve done quite well at 140, so I didn’t feel like I needed to come down. When I fought for the title I realized 140 may be too big for me. “I’m highly ranked at 140-pounds, so that’s just where I’ve been getting the best opportunities. Now I’m here, making my move to the States and there’s no better time for me to announce my presence. “Fans can expect a great fight Saturday. I’m going to get the win by any means. That’s why I’m here. I understand his confidence. We’re both here to win. This is the perfect co-main event to get people warmed up for the main event.” AMILCAR VIDAL “I have a great opponent in front of me. He has a good resume in his own right. So I’m focusing on what I can do, because we’ve put in all the hard work in the gym and you’ll see it all in the ring on Saturday. “With the effort that I put in to training camp, you can expect that I’m going to leave the ring victorious Saturday night. “I feel great, absolutely motivated and ready to give 100% on Saturday night. We know that we have a quality opponent in front of us, but I have proven my worth and my skills. That’s the reason I’m here. “We had a great training camp. It was hard and complicated at first to be so far away from Uruguay, because I’m very close to my family, but that’s part of the job. I am more and more motivated each day and I know that my family is supporting me from home. They are proud of me, for sure.” “I hope to be able to honor my country and raise our flag up high. Both of Uruguay’s world champions, Cris (Namos) and Cecilia (Comunales) called me to wish me all the best and tell me they believe in me too.” IMMANUWEL ALEEM “I’m looking forward to being a world champion and it all starts Saturday. Whatever he’s going to bring, I’m going to be ready. I have one of the best trainers in the game in Ronnie Shields in my corner. This is not going to be an easy fight for him. “I’ve been working with the champs. The best of the 154 and 160-pound division. So ring rust will not be a problem for me. “Expect a real fight on Saturday. Everyone knows that when you step in with me, it’s going to be a real fight. There’s no easy fights with me. “They want to see what Vidal can do in a big fight. We’ll find out if he has enough on Saturday, but no matter what, he’s in for a real test.” STEPHEN ESPINOZA, President, Sports and Event Programming, Showtime Networks Inc. "You don't need me to tell you how big this card is. This is the undisputed 154-pound title. That's all you have to say. We have six fighters up here with four losses between them. This is a high quality card from top to bottom. "The opening bout between Vidal and Aleem is a co-feature or maybe a main event on any other network. 'Rolly' Romero is one of the most entertaining fighters at lightweight and he's in against a tough substitute opponent in Anthony Yigit. "This main event is the best against the best. Jermell is the consensus number one fighter in the division and we're thrilled to have him back on SHOWTIME. But there’s another fighter who may have an argument about who is number one and that’s Castaño. This is a real fight and whoever emerges as the victor on Saturday night has earned the undisputed title.”

(Featured Photo: Amanda Westcott/Showtime)

#HF #Jermell Charlo #Brian Castano #Showtime Sports #Premier Boxing Champions

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thedivinefish · 3 years

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TGIWednesday and here's to new beginnings!

TGIWednesday News

And many happy returns to you and yours. This year has GOT to get better, at least that’s the direction I’ll be praying/fishing towards for sure. So many folks around the New Year make resolutions they’ll never keep. What are yours? I would encourage you to make them doable/reasonable goals so your success is more achievable and you don't set yourself up for disappointment. Like I plan on starting that new diet/exercise routine and getting in better shape. Sometimes saying, "I am going to lose 50 pounds by February 1st" can be daunting/unrealistic and just drop us into despair. Instead create softer goals like, "I am going to get back into a work out routine." "I plan on making every effort to eat cleaner, be nicer to others and allow more good fortune to find me!" You get the idea. Here’s to a better year of making best efforts to move every aspect of your life forward with grace and ease and we’ll be here to help/contribute to you and yours in every way that we can.

Also, here's a preview of the topic for the upcoming January Live Zoom Event scheduled for Wednesday the 27th. Theme: Clearing the Way for New Beginnings

Starting fresh new job? Have a new business idea? Moved to a new location? Beginning or searching for a new relationship or ending a relationship? Starting a new diet or exercise routine to improve your health? Entering into a new financial endeavor? What are you struggling with? Is something blocking you? What happened last time that you want to clear the past energy of? What switches do you want to strengthen and turn on/off related to new beginnings? The registration link will be available in the coming weeks, stay tuned!

TGIWednesday Download

~ NEW BEGINNINGS ~ Today I believe, think, know and feel that as long as I am alive I can and will undertake new efforts and beginnings. I know when, where, how and why to release procrastination and lean forward into production. I am ready, willing and able to make progress daily and see my life expanding and improving in all directions of positive outcomes. I am saying this in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is.

From the Fish Box

"Dear Mr. Mack, I've been on this spiritual journey for a year now which started with your methods. Spirit has been teaching me all kinds of things. Started off using a pendulum but no longer need it to communicate. I'm able to talk directly having conversations. Most are yes/no type conversations. If I doubt myself or my energy is off I use the push/pull method. They have taught me how to recognize different types of spirits. How to help cross over souls. Even how to communicate with them on the other side. All this while I'm a firm believer in the Bible. I've shared with others in my church about my lifelong food allergies being gone and how you helped me but most just seem to not get it. Because of the pushback from what I would call a real miracle. I don't dare talk with anyone in the church about everything else. Mr. Mack, there has been so much change in my life since I decided to try your download healing sessions a year ago that it's too much to list. Like all my mistakes, insights and even a few visions. Talking with angels, spirit guides and lost souls. Outer body experiences, lots of dreams and even learning about my past lives. I've heard disembodied voices, seen shadows and even little lights. I just wanted to write this to tell you how God has used you in my life. The peace & strength in faith this has brought me has been so wonderful. Keep the faith and keep healing!" - J.B.

Tampa Office Sessions

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS

Friday sessions are back to being phone-only for folks that I usually see at Kodawari until further notice. You can book time with me in the shop and schedule online. 3965 Henderson Blvd Suite C Tampa ☎️ (813) 999-1874 http://www.kodawariyoga.com/

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack JANUARY 6th "No" is a one-word sentence and today I will be able to say "no" without recourse, regret or explanation. We may not always pronounce words perfectly. It is the feelings and emotions that the words convey that allow us to communicate our deepest thoughts, needs and desires."

Live Radio Show Appearances

2021 UPDATE THE JIMMY MACK HEALING SHOW GOING FORWARD I put in 5 years hosting weekly shows on Blog Talk and nearly another 5 years into my current show and Spirit came to me during a 3AM ending of My Daily Prayer services and whispered...“Enough.” So while we will not return to our weekly show in 2021, we will of course be guest or co-hosting on a variety of other shows on occasion. So stay tuned to this section of TGIW as variety show line ups where I am a guest on other shows will be posted!

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Nightly prayers include COVID-19. Each night we work on scrambling the frequency for everyone on the prayer list. Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers. *NOTE if the MDP Service was purchased via a special telesummit or radio show offer, prayers will be limited to BUYER ONLY - and will not include family members or pets.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

For those who aren't familiar, below is a list of the 30+ audios in the MyBeliefWorks series.... Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don't forget... you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

Abundance Abuse Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe Bountiful Harvest Creatives Daily GPS Reset Dark Energies/Fears Decision Making Diet & Exercise Education & Learning Family & Relatives Financial Windfall The Gold Coin Healing Body Disorders Healing Mental Stress

Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition IRS & Tax Time Love & Romance Money Mindset Moving Forward Pain Relief Pet Healing Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Traveling w/Ease Work & Career Weight Loss Youth & Vitality

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

Jimmy Mack | Appointments Skype: Jimmy.Mack55 Clearwater Florida USA Book a 15 minute session Book a 30 minute session Book a 60 minute session Transformational Healing of Body, Mind & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations! Download the My Liquid Fish® Starter Kit (*Updated May 2019) Audio MP3 Downloads and books to improve your life! Get Certified in My Liquid Fish® Change Made Simple® Watch Free Videos on YouTube Weekly Radio Show Archives Shop for Supplements http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2021 All Rights Reserved

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

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divinefishingtips · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and here's to new beginnings!

TGIWednesday News

Also, here's a preview of the topic for the upcoming January Live Zoom Event scheduled for Wednesday the 27th. Theme: Clearing the Way for New Beginnings

TGIWednesday Download

From the Fish Box

Tampa Office Sessions

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Live Radio Show Appearances

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes