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bright-eyes-strawberry-lies · 4 years

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I recently read The Camp Half-Blood Confidential for the first time and while most of it made me cringe, there was one story in particular that really made me cringe: Space Could Be An Issue.

For those of you who haven’t read it, the premise of Space Could Be An Issue is this: Annabeth is in charge of designing and building the cabins for the children of minor gods/goddesses but it appears that there’s no space for all of them!

What is an architect to do?

Annabeth suggests treehouses or houseboats and both are shot down by Chiron, who says the nature spirits would never allow it. Good thing that there’s no spirit of grass or open field, otherwise they’d never be able to build anywhere, right? Annabeth suggests caves; because why not just dump all those extras in a cave. Chiron shoots her down again; there’s only one cave and it belongs to the Oracle. Damn. Well what about stacking the cabins on top of each other? Parents associated with the sky can be on top and parents associated with the ground can be at the bottom. What? That seems a little bit...classist? No. Of course not. The real reason that won’t work is because demigods can’t cohabitate. You heard it from Chiron! All of your ships are invalid because demigods of different “families” can’t live together in peace.

Never fear! For Annabeth is here to save the day! Her latest idea is for small and low profile tiny houses. Her words, not mine. (I was going to make a sarcastic comment here about how, after fighting a war for equality, it’s a good idea to put the “lesser” demigods in places that are small and low profile...until I realized that Annabeth wasn’t fighting a war for equality, she was fighting for the continued reign of the Gods and therefore inequality because she ultimately privileges from the system no matter how often she cries mommy issues).

Anyway...The tiny houses are two stories; with a living area that sleeps two, a bedroom loft that sleeps two, and a bathroom. So four demigods per tiny house. Somehow there’s storage beneath the beds in the living area, which are the kind that pull out of the couch. Not sure how that works since normally the bed goes in the “storage area” when it’s in couch mode. And there’s a single closet beneath the stairs for more storage. The bathroom is the coolest part of the whole thing but it’s never mentioned if there’s a shower in those bathrooms or just a toilet and sink.

If you put four of these tiny houses together, they’re the size of one major demigod cabin. Isn’t that so funny. How you need four tiny houses for demigods but can’t build a regular sized cabin. Ha! Hilarious!

Which brings up a question. How big are the original twelve cabins anyway? The Hermes Cabin is so over crowded that kids need to sleep on the floor. Poseidon’s Cabin has nothing but six bunk beds (and later a small saltwater fountain) in it. Meanwhile, the Athena Cabin has multiple smart boards, work desks, a library, and a small armory on top of the beds. They’re clearly not all made equal (and that’s not even getting into the fact that the Hermes Cabin is literally falling apart).

Why does the size of the Athena Cabin matter, though? It matters because none of the other cabins are used for anything other than sleeping and chilling when there aren’t activities. The Athena cabin is so disproportionately huge and ironically high tech compared to the other cabins (WHY DOES RICK HATE THE HERMES CABIN?!). Okay, but they’re using it as a school. Why would you use a cabin as a school room?! Because those kids are supposed to be “geniuses?” So they don’t have anywhere in camp to just relax? It’s always work, work, work for the Athena kids, huh?

Where would you put the school? Oh I don’t know. Maybe the Big House, which only ever has two people living in it despite being three stories tall and super wide and easily the biggest building on the property. Ah, the Big House, where the occupants are always outside on the porch and the only interior mentioned is a living space with a ping pong table, Chiron’s office, and the attic used to stash the Oracle and other useless shit no one wants to look at. Why in Hades would you put a school room there? Think of the ping pong table! Relax! It was just an idea.

Hang on, we’ll come back to this. Now I want to bring up the decorating of cabins. The tiny houses also have the ability to be decorated however the occupants want, with only a single touch, which means that maybe the demigods of Nemesis want neon green walls despite Nemesis having nothing to do with neon green. Or the children of Iris are going through a Goth phase and decide all the walls should be black. Why does that matter? Because all of the other cabins are decorated according to godly parent. The demigods who live in the major cabins are extremely limited in what they can do with decorating because of “tradition and respect.” In fact, Percy and Tyson only add two decorations to their cabin: the aforementioned saltwater fountain and hippocampus figures on the ceiling. Which are both related to Poseidon. Despite some of the major cabins having been rebuilt, they were rebuilt to be exactly the same as before.

Which leads us to two points:

1.) The cabins aren’t shrines to the gods. These cabins aren’t sacred temples to the gods. The gods don’t care what happens in them or to them. They don’t care if they’re broken or overcrowded. They don’t care if the kids are fucking in them or if they’re digging tunnels underneath them or putting curses on them. The gods already have statues of themselves everywhere and most of them have a separate place in Camp that could be considered to be “their” place (Hephaestus and the forges, anyone?).

2.) Hera and Artemis’ cabins should both be nixed completely. Hera, as a goddess who will never have demigod children, doesn’t need a cabin on principle. She only has a cabin out of politeness, not necessity. And I can hear your protests already but no, Artemis shouldn’t have a cabin either. Her hunters have magical tents that they live in every other day of the year except for the one day out of the summer that they stop by Camp Half-Blood. That’s two cabins that regularly stand empty - one 100% of the time and one 99% of the time - and take up valuable space for people who actually need it.

Speaking of cabins that are usually empty: Poseidon and Zeus dont have more than one or two kids at a time (despite Zeus being a slut) so their cabins don’t actually need to be as big as the other cabins. Percy mentions that upon arriving at Camp Half-Blood, there are a couple hundred kids. More than half of them “disappear” during the first winter. Some die over the course of the series. Then the camp gets a huge influx of demigods; both the ones that came from Kronos’ army because they were pardoned and the previously unclaimed demigods.

Annabeth suggested stacking cabins on top of each other, which is a stupid idea for so many reasons (only one of which is pointed out to her and I listed another one), but she was actually on to something.

Except instead of making each floor for a different group of Godlings, what if, hear me out now, you bulldoze every single Cabin. (You get a tent! You get a tent! No, just kidding about the tents unless you’re a hunter of Artemis.)

Bulldoze the existing Cabins so that you’re starting from scratch (Annabeth, take some damn notes). Rebuild without Hera and Artemis’ Cabins. You never know when Zeus and Poseidon are going to get horny now that they’re technically allowed to reproduce again, so make their Cabins the same size as all the others (if you must). Rebuild the Cabins so that they’re a smidge narrower and a lot taller. That’s right! Slap two or three floors on top of those suckers! Make! Everyone! Fit! Give! Them! Space! No! More! Sleeping! On! The! Floor!

But what about the disabled - THERE ARE NO DISABLED DEMIGODS. Not even a single one! Everyone can climb stairs! Everyone! All the time!

Well that’s...true (and ableist) but what about Chiron? Shouldn’t he be able to get into the cabins? Chiron already can’t get into the cabins. He couldn’t get into the original twelve, he can’t get into any of the new ones.

Which brings me to the final, and possibly most important point. GIVE THESE KIDS PRIVATE BATHROOMS FOR FUCKS SAKE! If everyone thinks it’s a good idea for the tiny houses to have “personal” bathrooms, then give them to all of the cabins. No more communal showers! No more hazing other campers in the public toilets! No more getting eaten by harpies because you had to pee after curfew!

This way everyone is equal. No one has a better space or more space than anyone else. Everyone gets to decorate how they want. No one is going to die on the way to the bathroom. Because even though the war was ultimately about maintaining the status quo, Percy and Luke both said “no, this isn’t right and too many are suffering because of it and things need to change.” One traded his life for it, the other traded immortality for it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#percy jackson #percy jackson series #riordanverse #annabeth chase #camp half blood #long post #text post

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sophisticated-creepy · 4 years

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Love is Stranger than Fiction by: Melissa Sain

She loved his hands the most. They were strong, confident, and long of finger; firm in the ways of an artist, and masterful in the ways of a lover. Her sight trailed from his hands up to his forearms where she lingered her half-lidded gaze on the tight planes, watching as he turned the pages of his book, causing the muscles to shift and flex ever so slightly in their movements. Her heart skipped a beat at the image and a smile began to curl the corner of her mouth. From his forearms she watched his bare chest. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was gentle. Lying there, stretched out on the bed as he was, with sheets pulled up to his waist and pillows supporting his broad shoulders, Lola drank in the appearance of her husband. Of all the places her eyes drifted, however, she daren’t cast a look upon his face. An unsound fear gave her pause, believing if she were to take in his countenance, the comforting spell of tranquility would be lost.

“Lola, my love, is there something I can help you with?” her husband asked. He closed his book, letting it rest in his lap as he turned his head towards his wife with a mischievous smirk upon his lips. Lola blinked, startled from her reverie. She stared at his impish grin and cocky eyebrow before blushing violently and burying her face into the pillow next to him as she shyly giggled at being caught staring.

“You were thinking awful loudly,” he continued playfully. “Care to share with the rest of the class what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Lola regained her composure, peeking over the pillow before turning on her side, propping herself up on her elbow to answer him.

“Well, I was thinking of you,” she replied.

“Perfect.”

“And us,” she continued.

“Go on,” he encouraged roguishly, turning on his side to mirror his wife.

“And how lucky I am to have you in my life,” she concluded with a sigh. “Sometimes, I can’t believe that you’re real, that you’re here, with me. It feels like a dream, and I find myself trying to memorize you in case I wake up.” Lola stared deep into her husband’s passionate, sapphire colored eyes. “Raphael,” she breathed, “promise me I won’t wake up.” Raphael smiled warmly at his wife and leaned into her so their foreheads touched.

“I hate to break it to you, my sweet, but you are awake, and I am here, with you, and I am most assuredly real.” His warmth was infectious, and Lola melted under his words while nuzzling closer to him. He assisted her towards him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, embracing her against his firm body. He placed his chin on top of her head as she rested against the side of his neck contentedly. “You know, if it’ll set your mind at ease, I could prove to you how real I am,” Raphael suggested, feigning innocence. Lola grinned as she felt his deep voice vibrate from his throat on the top of her head.

“Oh? And how would you go about proving something like that?” Lola inquired.

“For starters, I could kiss you,” Raphael stated, and to prove his point, softly kissed her forehead in the place slightly above the spot between her eyebrows. “I could touch you,” he added, and began to lightly tickle her over the sheets. She girlishly squealed and swatted him away. “Or,” he continued, “I could do this.” Raphael sat up in bed, placed his hands on Lola’s hips, and gently positioned her to sit directly across from him so they were eye to eye. Once settled, he scooped up his wife’s left hand and placed it so her palm rested on his chest over his heart.

“This is how you will know I am real,” he tenderly spoke. “My heart is your heart. You need never doubt that it is the beating heart of a man who shares his life with you, who will protect and keep you as your husband, as your lover, and as your friend.”

Lola stared at her hand concealing Raphael’s heart. She could feel the soft rhythm beneath her palm, the consistent thrum of the muscle reassuring her that the man before her was real and loved her. She felt wrapped in a blanket woven of honey, hypnotized from the warmth of her husband’s speech and intimate gestures. She knew she was being silly in thinking her husband wasn’t “real”, but the fact that he indulged her whimsy revealed the depth of his love for her.

“My heart is your heart,” Lola repeated. She mimicked his actions and led his own hand to splay between her breasts. His massive palm covered the vulnerable surface and then some, and feeling him pressed against her chest made her heart flutter with the beginning stirrings of passion. Husband and wife met one another’s gaze as an unspoken yearning began to manifest. Lola felt Raphael’s heart quicken. His eyes betrayed his thoughts of desire. Her own heart was quick to join him, and the two became in sync with the thrill of feeling the other’s response to the growing heat between them. Lola’s breath caught short with eager expectancy as Raphael began to lean towards her, a sultry grin playing on his lips for what lay in store for his beloved. With his free arm, he encircled her waist while getting to his knees, and dipped her backwards, lowering her to the mattress, hovering over her. The hunger of wanting the other was maddening.

Raphael came to his wife, breathing in her aroma, the lingering notes of vanilla and roses of her perfume wafting towards him as he gently pressed feather light lips to her neck. Her skin prickled pleasantly at the touch. She closed her eyes, absorbing his lips explore her neck, her ears, her jaw, until finally, her lips. The spark that ignited whenever they kissed went beyond predictable amorous description. It was the kiss of a soulmate; a sensation of true love’s purest form. Eventually, they parted. There was no sense delaying what they craved. Raphael took his man tool---.

“Eww. ‘Man tool’?” Lola glared at her computer screen, scrutinizing the last paragraph in the middle of the word document. “’There was no sense delaying what they craved’,” she read aloud. She gave a short, critical laugh of derision at her own poor choice of words. “If that doesn’t kill a mood, I don’t know what will.” She shook her head in disappointment, the harsh clack of the back space key erasing any trace of the husband character’s unfairly ill-described lower anatomical region. Lola sighed, leaning back in her desk chair, tapping her forefinger impatiently against her laptop as she debated on how to handle the scene in front of her. Should she expound upon the interplay of the lovers or just go straight for the sex?

“Come on, brain,” Lola encouraged herself. “Don’t quit on me yet.” She could feel the writer’s block beginning to cloud underneath her forehead, slowly crawling its way towards her temples, blooming into a full blown fog of nothingness. Too little too late, she knew the creative muse was gone. “Damn. And just when it was getting good.”

A breeze rustled the trees outside Lola’s window, sweeping through the leafy foliage, causing the little chickadees to alight from the dense crowding of branches. The springtime sunshine warmly lit the area where Lola had set up her writing space, and with a slight turn of her head, she had a perfect view of the lush greenery of the historic city park just below her eaves. The old train station was across the way, and behind that, a river cut through the land, its banks dotted with willow trees. The old Catholic church’s bell tower began to sound the hour, its deep tenor resounding boldly through the town. Lola blinked away her daydream, the peal startling her back into the present.

“How is it already one o’clock? I’m gonna be late!” Lola shot up from her chair, her hip colliding with the edge of her desk causing her to jostle her half-finished cup of coffee, sloshing lukewarm liquid over scattered pieces of scrap paper. “Shit,” she cursed. “I’ll clean that up later,” she mumbled with annoyance, dabbing at the puddle with a nearby potholder from lunch. She saved her work then closed the lid of her laptop while turning towards the main living portion of her tiny loft. “Okay, babies, Mama’s leaving,” Lola called out to her sleeping cats. They were used to her frantic movements and so stayed comfortably dozing on blanketed dappled chairs or patches of sunbeam on the carpet.

Lola grabbed an oversized denim button front and an old linen backpack she used as a purse before calling out to her babies once more. “Behave, my honey bunches. Mama loves!” And with that, she was out the door, skipping down the fire escape. She rounded the railing towards the side of the house, found her bike, and quickly hopped on, pushing off with a spurt and began gliding down the sidewalk. She gave a final wave to her home before riding away. Lola lived in the heart of historic Main Street, the epicenter of antique shopping and restaurant-ing, in a renovated loft above a quilting shop. Like the little shop she lived above, the town was quaint and charming, embodying the nature of a quilt: diverse, close knit, and with a story at every turn.

This pie in the sky town was perfect for a young woman such as Lola. At the end of the historic district, the night life came alive with popular bars and coffeehouses. Up the street were more modern accommodations such as the Cineplex and highways to local malls, shops, and other normal day-to-day activities, but for this one strip of road, all of that noise faded away. What was left was a peaceful park, a murmuring river, and the clattering of footsteps on cobblestone walkways as shoppers visited one store to the next. Or, as Lola simply called it: magic. Lola fully believed magic encompassed the town. The buildings, the trees, even the wind itself bore magic, and for the enthusiastic dreamer that Lola was, she thrived in that type of creative atmosphere.

Even now, as she rode her bike to her job at a high-end lotion and bath boutique, Lola was lost, yet again, in another daydream. She perpetually lived in a state of dreaming, which often got her in trouble at work for accidentally ignoring customers. She was the cliché character who stopped to smell the roses, but where she differentiated from others, was to then follow the bee she found in the fragrant blooms, and thus become its companion, and accompany him on the journey of its winged flight, getting lost in the adventures and mysteries of a new dream. Most would call her weird. Some, naïve, but for what truly mattered, was that Lola called herself happy.

Usually, she was happy. There were times when Lola found herself unbearably lonely. Yes, she had friends and family to keep her occupied, yet when the day had ended, and all had gone his or her separate way, she was left alone, in a tiny renovated apartment above a quilting shop, with no one aside from her cats and her writing. Lola turned to writing when her soul yearned intimacy the most. At first, she wrote little paragraphs of made up characters doing made up things, and though that helped to stem the void, she still felt lacking. Her characters were flat, her “plots” laughable, until one day she decided to place herself in her stories, and there with her side by side was the figure of her heart’s desire.

Raphael was literally everything she wanted in a counterpart because that’s how she wrote him. It was odd the way he fit into her life. His persona flowed onto the page in ways Lola found unexpected, and going where her pen led her, let his words challenge her. His actions strengthened her, and his romance filled her. Lola was able to explore with Raphael all aspects of their fictional life in a numerous variety of genera. She placed them in fantasy, the supernatural, adventure, it made no difference. When the two of them were together, it simply worked. In the heart of her stories was just that: her heart. And this character, Raphael, had hers.

Lola sighed, her mind elsewhere as she rode through the town. The boutique she worked at was near the end of the historic district next to the start of the coffeehouses. With the wind at her back she made good time and reached the boutique with ease. She gave the bike one final push of the pedal before kicking her left leg over to join the right so she was in a side-saddle position the remainder of the distance, gliding to a smooth and, in her opinion, fashionable stop. After hopping to the ground and chaining up her transportation, she turned to face the park, not wanting to part with the beauty of spring placed before her. She breathed in the honeysuckle drenched air before finding the doorknob to the back of the store, and with a final glance at the splendor of spring, turned, and went inside.

~~~

#renaissance faire #short story #fantasy #adventure #romance #fun

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blackestnight · 4 years

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alternative ask because i didn't see you already answered for 'armor' - Gravity. cuddling up to a loved one when they are too tired to see straight.

by fantastically happy chance, i already got this prompt twice, and aymeric and hanami each got a turn at being deliriously tired, so now they both get to be wiped. also stole the prompt “recovery” from @seaswolchallenge.

this is set in an extremely self-indulgent space opera au based on the starfinder tabletop game, which (in theory, if i did my job right) requires no actual knowledge of starfinder, but just for clarity: magic and science happily coexist, fantasy races abound, and the rule of cool is the abiding law. also, some races have natural psychic abilities to varying degrees.

enjoy two idiots both failing their fortitude saves. and their wisdom saves. every save, basically.

The Waking Sands Security Services & Augmentation Center

Cuvacara, Vimal, Ring of Nations

Verces

Hanami stared at the bed for a long moment, contemplating its betrayal, and then heaved a sigh.

The staff quarters at the Waking Sands employed a sort of mechanized loft system, allowing the full-size beds to be lifted up during the day and leaving room for small work surfaces to be unfolded from the wall underneath. It was a decent solution for the lack of habitable space in the city, and infinitely better than the shoebox she’d lived in while she was still based with the Legion, but it posed two distinct problems at this exact moment. The first problem was that the beds had sensors that locked the lift rails in place if the desks were unfolded, and whoever had been responsible for dropping off her and Aymeric’s mended gear had piled it all on the table, and if she tried to bend over to move the pile enough to fold up the desk she was going to black out, and if she broke the lift again G’raha was going to polymorph her into a toaster oven.

(She maintained that it hadn’t been her fault, at least the first time; Vercite beds weren’t built to handle dragonkin, not even miniaturized hybrid species like her, never mind her weight and that of a full-grown elf. He was probably just looking for an excuse to embarrass her after she’d knocked him off his motorcycle the last time they’d raced.)

The bed was at eye level. She could climb up, even without a ladder, even when she was this off-kilter. The second problem was that Aymeric most definitely could not, especially not with his leg in a full cast and bombed to the ears on Y’shtola’s new painkillers as he was—the same painkillers that were making her dizzy secondhand, like a psychic contact high, and if she tried to lift him and landed either one of them back in the med bay Krile was going to polymorph her into a gecko.

At her side, Aymeric shifted where he was propped on her shoulder. To his credit, he was doing a decent job of staying upright, especially considering how unwieldy the cast was and how much the sensation in his legs had been deadened (less for the pain, Y’shtola had promised, and more for the unbearable itching sensation that the nanites caused as they fused the bone back together). “‘M only a half-elf, love,” he reminded her, pressing the words into her hair as he began to list sideways.

Hanami jostled her shoulder to get a better grip on his waist. “Which is stupid,” she hissed, running a comforting thumb over his hip when she caught an echo of nausea. “You are not half elf just because an ancestor was part human. That is not how math works. Sovyrian heritage law is absurd. It does not make you any less tall either.” She pondered the bed for another second, wondering if the dizziness would ease up if she got Aymeric into a chair, and promptly backtracked when she realized she hadn’t originally been speaking aloud. “And if you cannot keep me from getting high off of your meds, you can at least stop eavesdropping.”

“Not on purpose,” he promised, and she felt a (muddied) wave of genuine remorse. “You’re...very loud. I lack your experience with this sort of thing.”

...which would be fair, if Hanami were awake enough to feel fair. Elves (and half-elves, since apparently being drugged turned Aymeric into a gods-damned pedant, and she knew he heard that when he snickered into her hair) weren’t natural psychics; she did have experience with partner bonds even if she hadn’t had one in decades. And he had gotten better about quieting his end of their bond-link. She probably would have had an easier time filtering him out if she’d slept in the last day.

She felt his sudden spike of worry through the fog of medication, and he leaned closer to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek, lacking his usual coordination but no less sweet. At least she didn’t have to explain why she hadn’t slept; she’d complained, verbally and mentally, very loudly, about lawyers demanding even more redundant repetitions of testimony than the military officers in the Legion, but she’d been happy to snap and snarl and kick up a fuss if it got the Skylift R&D idiots who had almost killed them kicked offworld. She didn’t have Aymeric’s near-encyclopedic knowledge of Pact Worlds corporate law, but she had plenty of practice with making stuffy, shady legal-types piss themselves.

“My darling terror,” he crooned, interrupting her reflection. “You are so kind to me.”

“Only because you are walking wounded,” she said, and nudged his forehead with her own. Her own irritation settled at the touch, and she skimmed her palm up his spine. She wasn’t sure if the surge of affection that followed was her own or Aymeric’s. Probably both. The fuzzy vision of the two of them curled up on the floor was definitely his, but she had to admit it was tempting to just forget the stupid bed. She’d certainly slept in worse places. The feeling of his weight and his arms was a better sedative than any chemical Y’shtola could shoot her up with, like coming home and finally feeling grounded after a long stint space-side. Comforting, familiar gravity.

...huh, she thought, and Aymeric hummed a questioning noise into her scales. “What?” he yawned, though from the tone of his voice and the humor she felt filtering from him she knew he meant What are you doing now?

“Hold on tight to me,” Hanami said, and pulled him even closer with the arm around his waist; with her other hand she grasped the side rail of the bed, sliding her palm under it and looping her fingers over as though she was readying to do a pull-up. He shuffled to face her as best he could, the long line of his cast hard against her thigh, and hooked his free hand into the back of her jacket’s collar. Such immediate, unquestioning trust in her, she had to stop for a second and press her own harsh kiss to his forehead.

Then she reached for the tug of gravity at the edge of her awareness, the one that pulled her toward the planet’s heart, the one that kept her bearings straight even in the depths of space, and forced it off.

Her feet drifted off the floor first, ready as she was for the sudden weightlessness. She took the chance to brace Aymeric’s injured leg between her calves while he clung even tighter to her, hooking his uninjured leg around the back of her knee. She tensed the muscles of her abdomen and tugged on the bed rail, using it as leverage to pull them both toward the ceiling. With a grunt and a twist of her shoulder, she flipped them both over the rail, and from there it was easy to press Aymeric safely down onto the mattress and shove herself to the side before she allowed gravity to reassert itself.

She did a rather embarrassing faceplant into her pillow, accompanied by a crashing sound from below—the packages on the desk, she realized, dimly, through the buzzing in her head. At least nothing was breakable, and Aymeric kept the batteries for his plasma rifle locked in a safe. Accidentally blasting a hole through the ceiling would have been overkill after the week she’d had.

She groaned, muffled by the pillow, and snapped her fingers at the sensors to shut the lights off. Even without the fluorescents, the pounding behind her eyes continued. Maybe she shouldn’t have done the anti-gravity stunt when she was already worn out. At her side, Aymeric caught her hand and pulled it free of its grip on the blankets, pressing a soothing kiss into her palm.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rumbling and steady in the dark. “You did so well, love, you were brilliant. You deserve some rest.”

His voice was low and beguiling, and there was a deliberate pressure on her mind like a firm, comforting hand—not his most subtle work. “You do not have to use any mind tricks,” she told him as best she could around her yawn. “‘M going to sleep.”

“I know,” he said, and underneath she heard his silent protest of not a mind trick—whatever, she was too tired to have that debate again. She felt him shuffle sideways toward her, slow and ungainly and so, so loving, it felt almost like a physical warmth washing over her. “But if I can help you rest, all the better.”

“Mm,” she said, and shifted just enough to press against his shoulder, careful not to jostle his leg. Exhausted, fog-headed, comfortable and warm...she sighed and squeezed his hand in her own. “You help just by being here.”

She actually wasn’t sure if she’d said the last part out loud. Not like it mattered. He made a low, happy noise, relaxing into the haze of painkillers, and even if he didn’t speak it in words she heard his echoed I love you loud and clear.

#ask #ask meme #themirage-prismatic #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK this one was so fun #i...may have taken the gravity thing a little literally this time #y'know what? it's fine.#hanami is the world's grumpiest store-brand jedi #aymeric is a space bard #everything is ridiculous and only some things hurt #oc: hanami hagane #aymeric de borel #s: a minor justice #starfinder au #please god i hope the readmore doesn't break on this #writing - mine

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pandamega · 5 years

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Well, That was a mistake.

[Ao3] [Commission info] Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Derek/Stiles Rating: M

“I don’t want to die a virgin,”

It’s half laughed, half choked out in a hoarse, gurgling voice just above a whisper. Stiles regrets saying it instantly for the cracked-open look of guilt on Derek’s face.

“Stiles,” Derek seems to search for the right words, “You’re not going to die.”

“We’re all going to die,” Stiles laughs, never missing an opportunity for black humor and hoping to end the conversation.

They don’t die that night.

Stiles’s words stick with Derek, they haunt him, whispering past him when Stiles flails into the loft, his sweet scent turning spicy when they lay eyes on each other. They reverberate whenever Stiles flushes, whenever his eyes linger on Derek, “I don’t want to die a virgin,” morphing into “don’t let me die a virgin, Derek.” The potential gives him a thrill as much as it makes him sick with self-loathing.

Stiles doesn’t want to die a virgin. What Stiles does want is glaringly obvious, Stiles wants Derek. And Derek could give that to him. So easily, too easily. See, the problem is that Derek wants to give himself to Stiles. Sexually. (And every other way, really, but that’s a whole other issue). It’s a problem because Derek doesn’t get what he wants. Whenever it does, it goes horribly, horribly wrong for all parties involved, and in the off chance things don’t dissolve into chaos, well, Derek simply doesn’t deserve to get what he wants and have it work out. It would be fine if Derek were to selflessly sacrifice himself for Stiles’s sake, but that’s not how it would be. His intentions are absolutely tainted with self-indulgence. How despicable, right? Derek doesn’t deserve to satisfy that bone-deep, fatalistic instinct he feels whenever he thinks of Stiles, and Stiles deserves better. Stiles deserves better than Derek. Stiles’s first time deserves to be with someone better.

But Stiles doesn’t want better.

Stiles wants Derek.

Stiles wants Derek and doesn’t want to die a virgin. And Stiles, Stiles, for once in his messed up life deserves to get what he wants, doesn’t he?

It’s a terrible paradox and Derek should just forget about it, forget Stiles ever said anything. But if Stiles died (which would inevitably be Derek’s fault, of course), would he feel better or worse knowing Stiles at least got one thing he wanted? Well, Derek would feel terrible either way, it’s his default and little would change that, so the better question is which way would be less terrible for Stiles?

—-----

Derek ends up climbing in through Stiles’s bedroom window on impulse. It’s the dead of night but Stiles is awake, as usual, flailing at his desk from the sudden intrusion. He’s in the middle of explaining that he has a perfectly functional front door when Derek steps into his personal space, kicks his feet apart to fit between his knees and plants both hands on the back of his desk chair to loom over him. The chair leans back with a precarious squeak and Stiles’s words die in his throat. His eyes dilate rapidly, his scent turns from slightly bittersweet to warm and spicy and inviting, and Derek just lets himself bury his face in Stiles neck and breathe him in. Stiles sits frozen under him, swallows, throat sliding under Derek’s lips, and opens his mouth to say something glib, but never makes it. Derek just takes. He slides a hand behind Stiles head and angles their mouths together and makes their lips fit. Stiles is slack-jawed and Derek doesn’t hesitate to slide his tongue inside greedily, licking into him like a starved man.

An involuntary moan slips from Stiles’s throat and then he’s all action, kissing back fervently, disbelievingly.

Stiles is half convinced he’s having an extremely vivid hallucination, but he’s not about to stop and question it because Derek, Derek is sliding his hands over him, wide and warm, slipping around his hips and gripping. Then Stiles isn’t sitting in his chair anymore. His legs wrap automatically around Derek’s waist and the feeling of vertigo he gets as he’s lifted into the air makes his stomach swoop, or maybe it’s the thing Derek’s doing with his tongue. Their lips don’t separate during the short walk to the bed, and then Stiles is falling backwards by the sure, slow guidance of Derek’s hands. He feels secure in the same time that he feels utterly vulnerable, and it’s all so, so, hot.

Derek Hale should be illegal.

When Stiles is laid out on the bed like an offering and the werewolf climbs on top of him Stiles feels every nerve ending in his body light up in arousal. Derek is literally on top of him. In a sexual way. Large, hands, too hot to be human, slip under his shirt, burning a path over his skin. His muscles flex under the touch, back arches involuntarily, he feels so good and he wants more. Wants more bare skin, more contact, more teeth and tongue and fuck, Derek grinds his hips down and yes, he needs more of that.

Stiles’s hands scrabble to pull off Derek’s shirt, only manages to slide his hands underneath the threadbare fabric before he’s distracted by all the rippling planes of firm muscle of Derek’s back. His doesn’t know what he’s doing but his body seems to have developed a mind of its own because his fingers dig deep into Derek’s back and he rolls his body up into the space between them and Derek groans into his mouth, kiss going sloppy with a hint of untamed fang. He’s lightheaded, doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life. This is all his favorite guilty pleasure wet dreams come true. How is this even real life? What is happening?

Wait.

What is happening.

A flutter of panic shoots through his chest and Derek, hearing the stutter in Stiles’s heartbeat, pulls back, frowning, concerned.

Oh. What. Since when did Derek show concern. Since when did Derek climb into his window and start kissing him out of the blue instead of making demands or bleeding out on the floor? Since when did Derek look at Stiles like this, touch him like this?

Something had to be wrong.

His frantic thoughts are cut off by Derek’s voice, “What’s wrong?”

Stiles blinks for a couple seconds before blurting out “Dude, I should be asking you that!” And then the floodgates open. Derek sits back, face closing off as he listens.

“What’s going on?! What are you doing? Are you okay? Did you get cursed? Is it a spell? Witches or faeries? Or is it sex pollen?”

“... What.”

“I mean,” Stiles flails a hand between them in an attempt to indicate the position they’re in and what had just transpired between them. “This is, we don’t do this, why are you doing this? Should I be worried? I mean, I am worried, as I assume I should be, because something is clearly wrong with you. Because why else would you, you know,” and then he vaguely gestures at his entire teenage body as if it explains everything.

Derek stares back at him looking uncomfortable and slightly resentful before answering “Nothing is wrong.”

“Oookay…” Stiles studies him for a long minute, growing more uncomfortable by the second, because he’s still rock-hard and Derek’s sitting on his thighs looking debauched and if he’d just kept his damn mouth shut they’d probably already be naked by now but instead he had to assume the worst and now he has to follow through with his interrogation when he’d rather just carry on with the making out and hopefully sex. “Care to explain what’s going on then?”

Derek watches him internally berate himself while struggling through his own personal agony, because, what is he doing here. This was a terrible mistake.

“Well?!”

“You,” Derek starts, pauses, struggles for the right words, is too afraid to say something too honest like, “I’m here because I want to be,” or worse, “I’m here because I want you,” because that’s terrifying and impermissible in the Book of Derek. So instead he says probably the worst possible thing his can say. “You didn’t want to die a virgin.”

Derek can almost feel Stiles go cold beneath him. All the blood seems to freeze up in Stiles’s veins. All that hot, hot arousal suddenly chilled and gone sour.

“So, what, you decided you’d be the ritual sacrifice?” Stiles surprises himself by how low and controlled his voice is when he starts, slowly letting the anger seep in as he grows louder, “Save the poor human by sacrificing your body? Because that’s your solution to everything isn’t it? Something makes you uncomfortable? Throw yourself bodily at it and let it tear you apart. Because you’ll heal, right?”

Stiles pushes at Derek’s chest, and god what a firm chest, but he needs all of that just, not touching him right now.

“What were you thinking? You just thought we’d fuck, then, what? After you do your duty to cure me of my virginity did you think you could just slip away duty-free and then we’d just, you know, go back to normal with pack meetings and you breaking into my room to bleed all over the floor like nothing changed?”

Fuck. Derek hadn’t thought that far ahead, and now he was sitting wide eyed and panicked. Obviously they wouldn’t just pretend like nothing ever happened, but it’s not like they could date either. They weren’t Scott and Allison, would never be, and honestly wouldn’t want to be. There was also the issue where Stiles was 17, his dad was the sheriff, and Derek was a werewolf with a questionable criminal history.

“If you think I’d rather get pity fucked than die a virgin you’re an idiot.”

The words are a slap in the face. Derek, gutted, finds himself hating himself more than he has in a long while.

“Just… go.”

“Stiles,” it comes out more like a whine, it was pitiful, Derek doesn’t even know what he was intending to say, he just felt awful and was desperate for Stiles to make it better, but there’s no making it better because Derek fucked up and Stiles was giving him permission to escape.

A moment later the curtains were fluttering and Stiles’s room felt significantly colder and very empty.

Stiles did not cry.

He took a scaldingly hot shower and any tears that left his eyes were very manly and the result of too-hot water or stinging soap.

Derek just runs, mortified, into the night, regretting everything, so, a typical Sunday.

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf #commissions open #writing commissions #teen wolf fanfiction

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xiaq · 5 years

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So, I'm starting college!!!! (I'm VERY excited to go to Brown bc it's my dream school, but scared as well. I just want a nice space to have for myself!). Do you have any advice, as such a master of DIY, for decorating or setting up a dorm room? I'll be living in a double with a randomly assigned roommate (no choice in the matter- it's gotta be random)

Congratulations!!! Before we talk decorating, let’s talk roommates. Make a roommate contract the first day. I’m not kidding. Work out beforehand how you plan to deal with food, visitors, quiet hours, and cleaning at a minimum. Is the peanut butter communal? Do you have separate fridge shelves? When can you have people over? For how long? Will you allow folks to spend the night? If you have a paramour, do you have a plan in place so your roomate isn’t unexpectedly sexiled? At what time every night is your room “silent”? Is this time different on weekdays vs. weekends? Who does what cleaning? How often? Etc. This will save you a whole lot of trouble if you know beforehand what your roommate wants/has issues with AND if you literally write out the “roommate rules” and both sign them, it can be used as a legal-ish document by your RA/house parent. If they start acting a fool and breaking the agreement in a way that is affecting your sleep or performance, it’s much more likely you can get the problem fixed.Also, if you get their name/contact info beforehand, find them on social media/email them and talk about how they want to decorate the room. My roommate and I agreed on a few basic things beforehand (sheets and duvets) to buy separately and then went on an Ikea trip together the day after we moved in. It worked out really well! I know folks who extensively planned and DIY’d matching headboards, etc. beforehand as well.

Okay, on to decorating:

#1 Loft the bed! Whether you do an actual high lofted bed and then put your desk underneath, or just lift it a couple feet with risers and put a dresser or cube storage underneath, it’s valuable space! (Also, if your mattress is crappy, which it probably will be, get a memory foam mattress topper. Even a cheap one will save your spine.)#2 Use your closet (and if you have it, bathroom) door. Over-the-door organizers are awesome.#3 If your desk doesn’t come with a hutch, get one or make one! There are always hutches available on craigslist (and cheap ones at Ikea). Or, put up some shelving over the desk if your dorm allows it.#4 Make a separate “food area” by getting one of those adjustable wire/metal storage units. Personally, I’d put the mini fridge on the bottom and the microwave and coffeemaker/kettle on the top and store all your food on the shelves in between (there’s a “use vertical storage” theme here). But I’ve also seen folks who get the metal/wire rollable units with drawers, put all their food in the drawers and the fridge on top and the microwave on the fridge)#5 Shoe organizers will save so much space in your closet. You can also use shoe organizers to store other stuff–like socks! Also, get a tension rod and you can add a second stair-stepped clothes hanging area. I also used a tension rod for hanging scarves, belts, bags, etc.#6 You can totally hang up a privacy curtain, or arrange your furniture in such a way that portions of your bed are hidden from the rest of the room. You can use command hooks to hang curtains, even, if your dorm doesn’t allow nails/screws.#7 Fairy lights. I love them. They make every space better. Sprinkle them around. Get a whole curtain. Live in a glowing grotto. Yes.#8 In terms of other decorating advice, you do you! Go minimal and clean. Go boho with tapestries and wall hangings. Go prep. Go vintage artsy. It’s up to you (and your roommate). I recommend making a Pinterest board full of ideas and then narrowing down your plans with your roommate (if they care). Also, if money is a thing, I tend to get inspiration from Pinterest and then ask myself “how can I do something similar but for way less $$.” That’s how, uh, 90% of my apartment decor happened.Anyway, good luck!!

#college #dorm #dorm decor #answered asks

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linesandlillies · 5 years

Text

One day I want a house

It doesn't need to be big, or especially fancy

But a living room, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a bedroom would be nice. Any extra rooms would be fantastic, but not necessary.

I want big windows, so I can have lots of natural light. Everywhere except the bathroom. I could put up some thin, plain, white curtains to let in the light. Maybe a window seat? If there isn't one, I can put a bench right in front.

In the living room, I could have a nice couch, and some papasan chairs. I could get pillows with bright, pretty colors and patterns on them to decorate, but not just decorative-so people can use them. Maybe a rug for the floor? A little coffee table to eat and drink at, maybe play cards and board games with friends. I could save up and get a TV. It doesn't need channels or anything, maybe I could save up enough to get one of those fancy ones with apps? So I could just watch Netflix on it, and play movies. I could put little succulents and flowers in the window sill. Just have a nice place for guests, and just to chill. Just a nice place to watch and play and read.

In the bathroom I could put a cute little basket on the counter, by the sink. I could keep bath bombs and bath salts there. In the shower I could have a stand for all my stuff, and some nice soap. I could keep fluffy towels and washcloths in the cupboard. I could have a little box by the toilet for feminine hygiene products. Under the sink I could keep cleaning supplies. I could get a nice wastebasket, and a laundry bin with a lid would be nice if I could fit it. That way I won't leave my laundry on the floor, but the lid will cover up the clothes so guests don't see anything. I could hang up a nice shower curtain too. I could keep a little plant on the countertop on the other side, apart from the basket of bath bombs. I could put the plant in a glass jar or bottle. I think that'd look nice.

In the kitchen I could have a cupboard with mugs for hot drinks. I like mugs. All different shapes and colors and sizes, with words and pictures, all mismatched. That'd be nice. And I could get a matching set of plain cups and bowls and plates, maybe in a nice color like turquoise or yellow. I could get nice set of silverware to put in a drawer. I'd like to have cupboards that I could keep food and ingredients in, a nice kitchen to cook and bake in. I like baking a lot. I'd like to have a lot of counter space, maybe an island? If not that, at least I could get a basic table to put stools or chairs around. I'd like a place to make cookies, brownies, pumpkin bread, spaghetti, meatballs, chicken, and more stuff too. A place to cook and eat with friends. I could get pretty placemats and coasters too for the table or island.

In the bedroom I could get a loft bed, preferably a big queen size one. I'd put a big comforter on it with plenty of nice pillows to sleep on. I could put it by the window so I could wake up with the sun, or just have light stream into the area below. And I could hang up some pretty sheer curtains all around to make a little fort/private area underneath. And underneath I could put a nice desk and chair, I could keep a plant on the desk, and a jar for spare change like a piggy bank. I could set up a computer to write at, and maybe I could afford a computer fast enough to run games on one day. If I got a large enough desk, or maybe one that's L shaped for extra space, I could also have an area just to draw at. I could put a cork board up on the wall to post up reminders and photos, or things for inspiration. I could paint the walls a pastel color so it feels bright and open. It'd be nice to have big bookshelves for books and knick knacks, and a dresser with lots of drawers for clothes and things. Maybe a shelving unit that holds those little fabric cubby things to put away miscellaneous things and papers. I'd like to put up fairy lights too, they'd look really pretty at night I think. I could put empty bottles and plants and things on the window sills, and put pretty art on the walls.

I don't need all that stuff, but just some of it would make me happy. I just want a place that I can make a home. That's all I care about.

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someoneintheshadow456 · 5 years

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When you will move in your own flat how are you gonna decorate it?

At first I wanted a loft bed with a desk underneath (I didn’t know they existed until recently) because it would save A LOT of space plus it would be fun to have one. For an idea - this was what I was eyeing:

I was planning to keep it in a corner against two walls, so that I could put wall lights and wall shelves in the open spaces. Basically keep everything within arms reach.

And then I talked to my parents about it over the dinner table. It turned into a full blown lecture because I fainted and had an injury a few months ago (low BP isn’t fun to have). “What if you fall to your death while trying to get out of bed?”, “What if you get a concussion from getting up too fast and bumping your head on the roof?”, “What if you slip on the ladder and smash your head? Who will take you to the hospital?”

So that plan is bust and I have to think of a new one.

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yournewapartment · 6 years

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Hi! I'm gonna move to a new school in August and agreed to share a room cause it's much cheaper that way. I got a picture of the room this week and the space is super small for two people. I'm a bit nervous for how it's gonna be as I've never shared room with someone like this before. we've got a packing list too which is good

It’s going to be okay!! Sharing a room can be tough, but it’s something many people have to go through. Here are some ideas that might help:

lofted beds with your desk or bureau underneath

declutter/minimalize your stuff

make sure to take out the trash more often because 2 people= twice the trash

same goes for cleaning, 2 people= twice the mess

decide in advance if you’re going to share anything, such as minifridge, vacuum, microwave, lamps or lighting, cleaning supplies

if so, decide in advance who is bringing what

don’t forget extension cords for your electronics, there might only be one randomly placed outlet on your roommate’s side of the room

air fresheners will help you

consider keeping your laundry basket inside your closet if there’s space, to save room on the floor

figure out how you’re going to do decor– is each person going to have their own things on their own side, or some sort of mix?

Look up pics and articles about shared dorm spaces, I’m sure there’s lots of great ideas around!– Mimi

#dorm #dorm life #roommates #dealing with roommates

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finn-nelson-for-the-win · 6 years

Text

New Beginnings

Hello, my lovelies! So I got the idea to write this multi-chapter AU a few months ago but between work, Uni, personal life drama, and the writing I had been doing to fulfill fanfic prompt requests (as well as A LOT of writing for the other fandom I write for haha) I’m only getting the chance to get the ball rolling on this one now.

I didn’t tag anyone in this Intro chapter because I wanted you all to know what you were signing up for with this fic before committing to being tagged in subsequent chapters. With that being said, if you like this story and would like to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to let me know!

So without further ado…this is New Beginnings.

***

Rae sat in the back of the car, staring distractedly out the window as she saw the city that she had been born and raised in pass by in a blur.

Linda and Karim had tried to make conversation when they first started their nearly hour long drive, but the early morning hour and Rae’s unwillingness to respond with more than one word answers led to Linda and Karim chatting among themselves in the front while Rae was left alone with her thoughts.

The first twenty minutes of the drive, Rae had been overjoyed.

She had spent the summer months after college ended excitedly fussing over every detail of what her experience at Uni would be like and how good it would feel to be living on her own—well, technically in the dormitories on campus at her university, but that was a minor detail as far as Rae was concerned because she would no longer be living under her mum’s roof.

The next twenty minutes, Rae had been terrified.

College had been hell, but Rae had made it through. University had to be different for her, but what was to say that different meant better? How did Rae know that she would be strong enough to handle what life would throw at her, even after everything she has already been through? Failure was not an option for Rae, but her concerns about how unprepared she suddenly felt and uncertainty about what would happen if everything went tits up for her at Uni made it hard to focus on anything else for those minutes that seemed to drag on endlessly.

As the scenery outside the car window transitioned from the only town she had ever called home to unrecognizable countrysides and finally to the distinct cityscape that had built around the University that was soon becoming her home away from home, the all-consuming fear Rae had felt was quickly replaced with guilt.

Rae was being selfish, it was as simple as that. Her mum and Karim were stuck at home with a young child and Rae was free to just pack up her entire life and leave them behind without second thoughts. She had willingly applied to Uni and agreed to pay more money than she cared to think about at the moment to further her education and pursue her dreams, but her family needed her. Rae’s baby sister—too young to fully understand why her big sister was leaving and telling her goodbye early that morning—needed her, and yet Rae was still going through with all of this.

“Rae...Rachel, dear, I think we’re here,” Linda said most likely not for the first time, pulling Rae from the rabbit hole of doubt and overthinking that she had fallen into.

“Oh, uh yeah, sorry mum. This is the place, I think…”

***

“109...110...try to keep up, Karim! Rae’s dorm room should be right around the corner from here!”

Linda walked along the perimeter of the courtyard, passing each dormitory door as she searched for the room number that matched what was scrawled onto the small envelope containing the keys to Rae’s dorm.

Karim and Rae, who were following a short distance behind, were slowed down slightly by the surprisingly heavy boxes they carried with them. Linda had stopped walking and moved to one side of the sidewalk to give the group of people currently trying to maneuver a large flat screen television through the door to the nearest dorm space to move as necessary.

“Look at this, Rae,” Linda said quietly as she leaned over to her daughter to speak quietly with her, “they have nice and strong Uni boys to help move in the heavier stuff!”

Rae rolled her eyes and leaned away from her mum who gave her a wink and playfully nudged her side with her elbow, but Rae’s poorly contained chuckle showed that she was mostly unbothered by her mum’s joking.

“Alright, let’s just hurry up and find my dorm room. This box is heavier than I remembered it being,” Rae replied with a huff from the weight of the box she carried.

The three continued walking along the row of dormitory doors, smiling politely at the other residents that they passed.

“Which number?” Karim asked as he tried to adjust his grip of the boxes he was holding without dropping either box.

“Room 113, so this one...I believe,” Linda replied as she walked towards a door that was a few down from where the group had been carrying in the TV only minutes ago.

Linda pulled the shiny key from the small envelope it was contained in and inserted it into the lock, giving it a turn.

When the door unlocked without further hesitation, Linda swung open the door and held it open as Rae and Karim stepped inside the dimly lit apartment-style dorm.

“Hello? Oh! You must be Rachel, huh?” Rae heard the cheerful voice before she saw a petite girl with fiery red hair emerge from one of the bedrooms, but she smiled and nodded as the girl walked closer to her.

“Yeah, that’s me, but I go by Rae, not Rachel,” Rae replied with a small smile.

“Perfect, thanks for letting me know, Rae! My name is Isabella, by the way, but you can call me Iz or Izzy or some other nickname if you’d like! You were the last roommate we were waiting on and the other girls have been coming in and out all morning, but I can introduce you to them when I see them, if you’d like.”

“I’d really appreciate that, Izzy! Do you know which room is mine? I’d really like to put these boxes down,” Rae replied with a strained laugh and she tried to adjust her grip on the box she was carrying.

“Oh, silly me! Of course! Your room is right here on the right and I think Maddie took the bed on the left, so the one on the right is your side of the room by default, I guess!”

“Perfect! This is my mum, Linda, and my stepdad, Karim, by the way.” Rae replied as she used her head to motion to Linda and Karim where they stood beside her.

“It’s lovely to meet you both! My parents were here earlier this morning but they left already, or else I surely would have introduced them to you all as well!”

Rae followed Izzy into the bedroom that was lighted solely by the two large windows against the far wall of the room that had the window coverings lifted fully. Rae set the box she was carrying labeled “desk stuff” onto the plain black desk that was set up against the foot of her lofted bed beside the wall.

As soon as she turned around, she was pulled into a tight hug by Izzy, which she returned only slightly awkwardly despite the initial surprise.

“I’m just so happy to finally meet you, Rae! Me and the other two girls met up and got to know each other a bit over summer, so we already feel like old friends, but since you were only recently added to our dorm, all three of us have just been waiting anxiously to finally meet you. I really hope you love it here and we can all be really good friends.”

“I’m really excited to get to know you and the rest of the girls living here as well!” Rae added with a wide grin.

“Do you wanna meet one of the girls now? Or were you gonna go with your parents and get the rest of your stuff from their car?”

Rae looked at her mum and Karim as they stacked the boxes Karim had been carrying neatly on the carpeted floor beneath her lofted dorm bed.

“Go on ahead and meet your suitemates, Rae. Karim and I can get the rest of the stuff from the car. We might even be able to get a little help from those fit boys we saw earlier,” Linda replied with a suggestive eyebrow raise as she herded Karim out of Rae’s bedroom and towards the front door of the dorm.

“Come on! Maddie is at the Student Services building getting the parking permit for her car so she can park in the lot over here without being towed, so you’ll have to meet her a bit later. But you can come meet my roommate, Chloe!”

Izzy grabbed Rae by the hand and gently pulled her into the neighboring bedroom inside their dorm where there was a girl with her back turned towards them hanging clothing in a closet.

“Chloe! This is Rachel, Maddie’s roommate. She likes to go by ‘Rae’ instead of Rachel though!”

“Hiya, nice to meet you, Chloe,” Rae said quietly as the girl turned to face Rae and Izzy where they stood just within the entrance of the room.

“Hey babes! It’s so nice to finally meet you. I was surprised to see that they added someone into our dorm so close to move-in, but I’m glad that you’ll be living with us nonetheless!” Chloe replied as she walked forward and pulled Rae into a hug.

Wow...is it just me or is everyone at Uni a hugger except me?

“Rae’s parents are still getting some of her stuff from their car, but when they get back I can introduce them to you as well, Chloe!”

“Sure, that’s fine with me! Now that you two ladies are here, do you think you can help me with lofting my bed? I want it to be a little bit higher up so then I can fit my dresser and mini fridge underneath my bed to help save some space,”

Izzy and Rae shrugged and agreed, walking up to the bed to try to help Chloe figure out how to loft the bed.

“I don’t know how to loft the beds any higher than this,” Rae replied after they had tried and failed to loft the frame of the bed significantly higher than it had been initially, “my bed was already lofted when I got in there.”

“Should we go ask our neighbors to see if they can help us out?” Izzy asked as she wiped the small bit of sweat that had accumulated on her forehead from the exertion of moving the heavy bed frame.

“Sure! Plus I think it would be good to meet the neighbors and make friends with them, you know?” Chloe replied with a knowing smirk, which confused Rae slightly.

The three girls walked outside their dorm and turned right, towards dorm 114, and Chloe knocked on the door.

“Let’s try our next door neighbors to the left,” Izzy suggested after waiting a while since they knocked to see if anyone was there, “I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of them moving in around the same time that I got here, so they might still be inside their dorm!”

They walked past their dorm door and towards their other neighbors’ door and Chloe knocked on the door while the other two ladies stood beside her waiting to see if anyone would answer the door.

Just as they began to walk away from the door, they heard someone call “just a minute” followed by a loud series of thuds and sounds of items being moved hastily before the door unlocked and was opened.

“Oh! Hello!” called the cute boy wearing glasses who had answered the door as he panted, slightly out of breath from his rush to get the door.

“Good morning! We’re your next door neighbors, from dorm 113! We needed a little bit of help lofting my bed, and I was hoping that you boys could help us out a bit?” Chloe asked, laying on the charm nice and thick and batting her eyelashes excessively.

Boys? What did Chloe mean by ‘you boys’?

“Yeah, of course! My mates and I will head over there to help in a just a second. Dorm 113, right?” the boy asked with a friendly smile.

“Yup! Number 113...we’ll leave the door cracked open for you boys and you can just come right inside, alright?”

Chloe gave the boy another smile and he waved at Izzy and Rae behind her after promising that he and his mates would be over to help them soon, before the three girls returned back to their own dorm.

With the front door propped open using one of the small blue bins for recycling, the three girls walked into the room that Izzy and Chloe shared to clear some of the clutter out of the way so the others would be able to access Chloe’s bed without stepping on anything on the ground.

“Hey ladies!” A booming voice sing-songed as a shirtless boy with short hair walked through the front door of their dorm, followed by the boy in the glasses that had answered the door when Chloe and the girls first knocked.

“Hi, you must be one of our neighbors from 112, huh? I’m Chloe!” she said as she emerged from her bedroom to greet the boys that had walked into their dorm.

“I sure am! You can call me Chop,” he replied with a wide grin that exposed a noticeable, but strangely suiting gap between his two front teeth.

“You three saw me earlier, but we haven’t been formally introduced. My name is Archie and I’m not roommates with Chop, but I was just helping him and our other mate get settled since none of my suitemates have moved into our dorm yet.”

“And who are these two lovely ladies?” Chop asked with an eyebrow waggle as he turned his attention to the other girls that had joined Chloe in the common area of their dorm while Archie introduced himself.

Rae stood beside Izzy in a state of stunned silence when Chloe’s previous statement clicked into place.

‘You boys’ as in our neighbors...who are fit and/or shirtless and casually standing in our dorm room right now...

“My name is Izzy...and this here is Rae!” Izzy replied for both of them when she saw that Rae was not jumping at the chance to introduce herself.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you three ladies,” Chop added with a smirk, “some of the guys aren’t in our dorm right now, but I think between you three and us three, we can loft a bed, don’t ya think?”

“Three of you? I just see you and Archie..?” Rae replied with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion after her initial surprise and shyness had begun to fade in the presence of the two friendly boys standing in their dorm room.

“Huh? Oh! Arch, do ya know where Finn ran off to? He was just here a moment ago…”

“I, uh...maybe he—”

“Oi, Chopper! I’m right here, I just turned back to grab something to help loft the bed,” muttered the shirtless boy with slightly shaggy brown hair as he walked into the girl’s dorm room.

“There he is! It’s about fucking time, mate!” Chop joked as he gave his mate’s shoulder a playful shove.

“Sorry, I...uh…” the boy stood beside Archie and his voice trailed off as he looked between the three girls in front of him and himself, shirtless and dressed only in joggers that hung low on his hips, and he chewed his bottom lip out of nervousness.

“Oh, don’t mind him! My boy Finnley here is just a little bit shy around beautiful ladies like you all,” Chop added with a chuckle, “Ya missed all the introductions here, mate, but these ladies are Izzy, Chloe, and Rae...they are our next door neighbors!”

The girls gave Finn a small wave and smiled as Chop introduced them, but all Finn managed was a tight-lipped smile and silent nod at each of the girls.

“Anyway...we hear that there is a bed that needs lofting, yeah? Let’s get to it!” Archie replied with a smile as he gestured for the ladies to lead them to the bed they wanted to loft.

As Chloe and Izzy explained to Chop and Archie what they had already tried doing, Finn walked up to the bed frame and looked at the structure of the base where the mattress sat.

“Hey, uh, May...was it? Can ya help me move the mattress off the bed frame?” Finn asked quietly when he noticed that Rae was leaned up against the wall nearest to him watching what he was doing.

“Oh, sure, but my name is ‘Rae’ not ‘May’...” she replied as she walked up to the mattress to help him pull it down from the bed frame and lean it against the wall where she stood previously.

“Thanks for the help,” he muttered before returning to his inspection of the bed frame.

“Alright, now that we got the mattress out of the way, you should just be able to lift the base of the bed frame and move it into a higher notch to make the bed lifted higher up,” Chop said as he moved to stand at one end of the bed, “Finn, can you get on the other side and hold it in place so I can lift this side of the base?”

Finn nodded and stood at the opposite end of the bed from Chop and gripped the bed frame tightly to keep it still.

Chop began to pull the base upward, trying to unhook it from the notch it was currently positioned in, but despite his greater than average strength that was clearly a result of years of working out, the base would hardly budge.

“Can I take a look?” Finn asked when Chop stepped away from the bed frame with a frustrated huff.

“By all means. Do you really think you’re stronger than me though, Finn?” Chop asked, lifting his arms up to flex his muscles as if to prove his point.

“Well I am stronger than you, Chopper, but it also might help you lift the base if you undo the screws that are securing them in place,” Finn muttered as he pulled a screwdriver from the pocket of his joggers and loosened the screws on that side of the bed until the base was easily lifted using only one hand, “there ya go!”

Finn handed the screwdriver to Archie who got started loosening all the other screws on the base to help them loft the bed.

“So that’s what you were looking at on the bed frame so closely a minute ago. Nice job by the way, if not for you I don’t know how long we would have tried to loft the bed using brute force,” Rae replied with a smile when Finn walked to stand next to her on the opposite side of the room to give the others more space to adjust the height of the bed.

“Yeah, well I knew the screws had to be holding something in place and I had brought my screwdriver from my dorm just in case I’d need it, so I just took a guess. It wasn’t a big deal or anything,” he replied quietly as he crossed his arms over his torso to try to hide the exposed skin of his bare chest.

“Rae! Can you help Karim with the box on the top of the stack? It’s about to fall off,” Linda replied from the doorway of the dorm as she used a foot to gently kick open the door that was still held open by the recycling bin, since her arms were full with boxes.

“Yeah, of course,” Rae walked into the common room and grabbed the box on top of the stack Karim was carrying before following them both into her bedroom to put the boxes down.

“Are your other roommates here? We heard a few extra voices as we walked into your dorm,” Linda said as she placed the boxes of clothing she carried onto the carpet near the open closet.

“Two of my suitemates are here. Our neighbors also came over to help us loft one of their beds in the other room, so they’re here now too.” Rae explained.

“Perfect! Let’s go meet them!” Linda replied enthusiastically as she walked out of Rae’s bedroom and into the neighboring room that Izzy and Chloe shared.

“Hiya ladies! I’m Rae’s mum, Linda Bouchtat, and this is my husband...Karim…”

Linda stopped dead in her tracks when she walked into the other room and saw that in addition to the perky redhead she had met previously, there was now a pretty girl sitting in a desk chair and three fit boys—two of which shirtless and glistening with sweat—standing beside a newly lofted bed.

“Hello, Mrs. Bouchtat!” Archie said as he reached a hand across to shake Linda’s hand in greeting, “I’m Archie and these two lads are Chop and Finn. We live next door to your daughter and her suitemates!”

“Ah, I see...Rachel, can you come help us get the last couple things from the car, so we don’t have to make an additional trip?” Linda asked almost curtly as she turned to face Rae where she stood behind her.

“Uh, sure, mum…” Rae replied hesitantly, unsure as to why her mum had referred to her by her full first name.

As soon as Rae, Linda, and Karim were a short distance away from the dorm, Linda placed her hand on Rae’s shoulder, causing her to stop walking.

“What the bloody hell was that back there, Rae?”

“What do ya mean, mum?”

“What do I mean? Are you serious, Rachel? Those boys...those shirtless boys...what were they doing in your dorm?”

“They are our neighbors, like Archie said, and they were helping to loft Chloe’s bed, like I had told you,” Rae replied with an eye roll as she continued walking towards her mum’s car.

“You live next to boys?”

“Yeah! Apparently all the odd numbered dorms have girls and even numbered dorms have boys...don’t act so surprised, mum! We both knew that this was a co-ed dormitory community!” Rae replied casually when she noticed the look of shock on Linda’s face.

“Well yeah, but I thought that it would be separated right down the middle or by floor or something!”

“Oh relax, mum! It’s not like there are co-ed showers or toilets that we have to share, since they are apartment-style dorms. Each dorm still only has up to four boys or four girls, but it’s not mixed!”

“Hmm...Alright, I guess. I still wish that I knew about this earlier.”

“I didn’t know about it either until when I met my neighbors, but it’s gonna be fine, mum.”

“I suppose so. It’s a good thing that I trust you so much to make smart choices, Rae!”

When the three of them got to Linda’s car, there was only Rae’s denim backpack and a box with some of her favorite books left to take to her dorm.

“Karim and I should probably get back home to your sister Leila. You know how she can get when she is with a sitter for too long and I’m sure you have plenty of unpacking and bonding with your suitemates to do still.”

“Alright, I should be able to take this last box and my backpack without any trouble. Thanks for helping me move my stuff into my dorm, mum and Karim.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Linda pulled Rae into a tight embrace despite the box Rae was carrying in her arms.

“I’m just really gonna miss you, Rae! You’re my little girl and now you’re growing up so fast and going to Uni and I’m just so proud of you!” Linda said as she rubbed circles on Rae’s back with her hands while the two remained hugging.

“I’m gonna miss you too, mum...both of you and Lei-lei too, actually!” Rae replied as she looked over at Karim when he reached to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, “but I’m not leaving forever. I’m still close enough to come home for holidays and when I have days off of school.”

“I know, I know...and living in the dorms with all the other first year Uni students will be good for you so you can branch out and make some new friends, I think. You better still call us once per week,” Linda said as she released Rae from her tight embrace and wrapped an arm around Karim’s torso instead.

“No, please try to call every day,” Karim added, his accented English thick with concealed emotion.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to call you guys often and keep in touch as much as I can, alright?”

Rae gave Linda and Karim hugs goodbye and she pretended not to notice how glossy their eyes were with holding back tears so that she could maintain her composure as well, but before long her parents climbed into their car and drove away, leaving Rae standing alone in the parking lot with her denim backpack and the cardboard box full of books.

I’ve never lived away from my mum for such a long time, but this is what I wanted, right?

I knew what it would entail to apply for Uni and sign up to live in the dormitories on campus.

But now that it’s actually happening, I feel almost...wistful, I suppose.

The short walk back to her dorm room brought back the excitement, fear, and guilt Rae had felt on the drive earlier that morning in waves, but none of the thoughts lingered and soon she was standing in front of the locked door to her dorm.

My dorm...I think I can get used to the sound of that…

“Oh, good! You had your keys with you,” Izzy called from where she was seated on the couch in the common room of their dorm when Rae unlocked the door and stepped inside, “I wasn’t sure if you had them so I wanted to make sure that you were still able to get back inside after the boys left a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry I left without telling you all. I just went out to grab the last couple things from my mum’s car and then I was seeing off my mum and stepdad because they needed to start driving home,” Rae explained after turning to lock the front door of the dorm behind her.

Rae walked into her bedroom and was surprised to see a short, but athletic-looking girl with long blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail standing on the opposite side of the bedroom from where Rae’s boxes were stacked.

“Oh, hello! You must be my roommate, Maddie, right?” Rae asked as she set down the box she was carrying on her desk.

“Yeah, that’s me! Sorry I wasn’t here earlier today, but I’m glad to see that you seem to be getting settled in alright,” Maddie replied with a smile.

“Oh, yeah! The other girls have been so welcoming and we even met some of the boys in the dorm next to us earlier today. I think I’m gonna really like living here,” Rae said as set her denim backpack onto the chair beneath her desk.

“Knock-knock, ladies!” Izzy sing-songed as she walked through the open door to Rae and Maddie’s bedroom door, “I just wanted to let you two know that Chloe and I were going to go into the city to do some dorm room essentials shopping a bit later today, so you are both more than welcome to join us if you’d like!”

“Thanks, but I’m meeting a couple of my friends from back home for a movie tonight, since we all spent all day today getting settled into our dorms,” Maddie replied with a smile as she continued organizing her side of the bedroom.

“Aw, okay. Maybe we can all hang out another time. What about you, Rae? Do ya wanna come shopping with Chloe and me?”

“Yeah, sure! There’s a few things that I still needed to get too, so I’d really like that!” Rae said with a smile.

“Perfect! I’ll give you a while longer to unpack all your boxes and then whenever you’re ready to leave, just come into my room and let Chloe and I know!”

Izzy walked out of the room and Rae turned back towards her side of the bedroom and looked at all of the boxes that she had left to unpack.

18 years of my life.

Every memory with mum, Karim, and Leila...

All the books that hold a special place in my heart…

And the music that has helped me keep my sanity when life went to shit...

All of the reminders from when my life spun out of control and very nearly slipped from my grasp…

And the diaries and memories from hospital that proved that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be…

My entire life up to this point is now reduced down and packed neatly into ten cardboard boxes and my denim backpack.

The past is the past and there’s nothing I can do to change anything that has happened to me.

But now I’m starting this new chapter of my life and truly living away from my family for the first time in my life.

University is a time for new beginnings, and I swear I’m not gonna fuck it up this time.

A/N: Okay, so this is the introductory chapter, or perhaps a preface, to the new multi-chapter fic that I’m going to be writing and posting for a majority of the foreseeable future.

I’ll be completely honest with you when I say that I have no clue exactly how long this story will end up being and/or exactly what this story will entail, but here are a few things I can tell you about this story: this will likely be a pretty long fic though each chapter may vary greatly in length, this AU takes place in modern day but with the background of Rae’s past struggles with her mental health that are detailed in the show (except for the gang, since she meets them all at Uni in this fic), and the vast majority of events that will be covered in this story are going to be based off of real events from my own experiences of living in the dorms during my Freshman year of Uni...I haven’t decided whether I will let you all know which events were real in the author’s notes of each chapter or whether I’ll leave that a mystery for you guys to make your own assumptions about haha.

Without a doubt, my first year of Uni was the most fun/difficult/crazy year of my life up to that point, but it taught me a lot about myself and about the people I had in my life and ones that came into my life during this time and while there were a lot of bad times, there were also a lot of good times and memories that were made...so hopefully with this story, I can help share some of my experiences and memories with you all!

Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends!

#mmfd #my mad fat diary #mmfd fanfic #my mad fat diary fanfiction #My writing #finn-nelson-for-the-win #New Beginnings #intro/chapter 1 #i'm so excited to start this new story!!!#it's been waaaayyy too long!!!

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untitled5071 · 6 years

Text

Ditto- A Ghost/Coco crossover

Relationship; Hector X Imelda

SPOILERS!!

Summary; Hector and Imelda couldn't be happier. They just bought a new loft, their daughter Coco is happy and healthy, and they sing, dance, and count their blessings. That is, until the night Hector mysteriously dies while out with his best friend Ernesto. Now Hector-trapped as a spirit-is forced to watch his family forget about him. Can he set things right before it's too late? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1-Life is Good.

The sound of sledgehammers broke the suffocating silence of the loft, dust swirling in intricate patterns as the planks of the assaulted wall fell to the ground with a clatter. Muffled voices could be heard through the rubble, and two figures stepped into the light of the newly created opening. One of whom, a long and lanky man wearing what appeared to be an oversized t-shirt and paint-splattered jeans, grabbed some swinging wires to allow the woman opposite him to pass him safely. He took off his mask, looking around at the vast space around him, only to be smacked upside the head by his wife.

"Wait until the dust settles, idiota."

Hector Rivera smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, pulling the mask back up over his mouth and nose. His wife moved into the light of one of the many windows lining the walls of their newly-purchased loft, the dust framing her like an angel. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, the dust settling onto it looking like light snowfall. She wore one of Hector's shirts underneath a pair of overalls, and although they were dirty and the overalls were ripped at the knee, Hector still found his breath catching in his chest, and not from the dust. He began to hum, a mindless tune, letting the emptiness of the rooms around him carry the tune over to Imelda, who had excreted a tape measure from her pocket and began to measure the space between the windows.

He strode over to her, letting his eyes wander and allowing his mind to fill the space. He'd keep his guitar in that corner, over there would be the kitchen, and that would be Imelda's workshop, and Coco's playroom would be nestled in that little area. Imelda had moved to the opposite corner of the loft, her boots clicking with each step and her fingers moving, measuring, calculating with an expert precision. Hector chuckled as he watched her, his eyes sparking with unabashed admiration. She had planned this for years, and she would sooner die than let anything go wrong. He reached her as she began to move away, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and spun her into him, his lips parting slightly as he smiled down at her. Her instinctively cross expression softened slightly, and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"It's perfect, mi amor. This is going to be absolutely amazing."

Imelda's eyes flicked to the opposite wall, skeptical.

"It better be, or else I'm telling that cabr-"

Hector cut her off with a kiss, swift yet gentle. Imelda rolled her eyes, but he caught a hint of a contented hum leave her lips as they parted. She sighed, and looked around once more.

"Well, at least it's livable."

Hector chuckled.

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

A month and a half had passed, and the apartment showed clear evidence of both Imelda's and Hector's influences. The walls were painted in practical colors, save for Coco's room, where marigolds bloomed up the walls and childish drawings adorned every surface. Music was everywhere; in Hector's prized guitar next to his desk, in the radio softly crooning in the kitchen, in the rhythm of the people in the house as they moved about their day. Light streamed through the newly cleaned windows,and landed on the few still unpacked boxes in the loft, betraying the orderly appearance of the rest of the loft. A babble of words came from the imagination of the little figure laying on the living room rug, playing with a very disinterested cat. Little Coco held a little dress out to the feline, who turned up her nose and began licking her paw. This did not deter the child, who crooned,

"Please, Pretty Pepita?"

The cat looked at the child, but continued to ignore the continuous begging. Coco began to move towards the animal, who got ready to pounce away. Before either party could be subjected to unnecessary struggling, Coco squealed as a pair of sturdy hands picked her up, and she was showered in kisses. Pepita took the opportunity to dart away upstairs, to regain what was left of her dignity before the next assault. Coco gripped the back of her father's shirt tightly, giggling as her father's goatee tickled her forehead. Her father ceased his attack and rested his forehead on his daughter's, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"Thank goodness I got there when I did, mi'ija. One second longer and Pepita may have ripped your doll's pretty dress."

Coco giggled and reached for her father's face. He leaned into her touch and looked over his daughter, his eyes full of the most unconditional love he had ever felt. he was interrupted, however, by Imelda, who came up from behind him and took Coco gently out of his arms, kissing her husband on the cheek before bringing Coco to the kitchen for lunch.

"Si, mi'ija. Pepita always struck me as more of a knight with shining claws than a princess, anyway."

Hector chuckled as he put Coco's plate in front of her, kissing Imelda before grabbing an apple for himself and jumping up onto the counter. Imelda glared at him, causing him to shrink under her famous glare and slid off the counter, suddenly sheepish. Coco giggled and munched on a baby carrot, happy to see her parents acting normally. The domestic scene was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom, causing all three Riveras to jump. Hector jogged over to the door and pressed the button.

"Hello?"

A suave and familiar voice flooded the apartment.

"Hola, Hector! Can I come up?"

Hector smiled apologetically at his wife, who crossed her arms and gave a swift-although exasperated-nod.

"Si, come on up, Ernesto."

Hector threw the bolt back and walked away from the door, picking up his apple and exchanging a glance with his wife. It took less than a minute for a knock to reach their door, and both Imelda and Hector answered.

"Come in."

The door opened, the light streaming in from the hallway revealing Ernesto De La Cruz, in all his smug glory. Always one for a good impression, he wore a smart suit, decorated with ornate cufflinks. His heavily gelled hair glinted as he moved toward the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a brown paper bag, which he placed onto the counter.

"Hola, amigos. Wow, the place looks great! How is everybody? Well, I hope?"

Imelda nodded, offering a small smile as she opened the package. Hector slapped Ernesto good-naturedly on the shoulder, to which Ernesto smiled. He turned his attention to Imelda, who pulled out a couple of ripe fruits.

"Japanese apple pears, Ernesto? Doesn't this seem a little....much for a simple entry fee?"

Ernesto waved her off and flashed Coco a toothy smile. Coco returned it before resuming her meal, not at all phased by the sudden visit. 'Uncle Ernesto' came at least once a week, but he only came bearing such extravagant offerings when he had a request.

Today was no different.

Smiling and turning to Imelda and Hector, the former of which had begun placing the fruits into a bowl in the middle of the counter, Ernesto began.

"So, guess what I found for us tonight, Hector?"

Hector raised his eyebrows through a mouthful of apple. Imelda rolled her eyes. Ernesto was unfazed.

"The club down on 71st street needs a band to play tonight. It's dance night, so I was thinking some of our more upbeat pieces. How would you feel about getting "un poco loco" tonight?"

Hector thought for a moment, swallowing. He turned to Imelda. They had been planning to have a quiet night at home tonight, maybe unpack a few more boxes. Imelda had been counting on him to be at home, but even she knew that the opportunities Ernesto found were often to good to pass up. She gave him a look, one that he knew all too well. It said, as clear as day,

"Do what you need, but remember your familia. We need you, too."

Hector nodded, then turned to Ernesto and took another bite of apple.

"Yeah, I'll be there. What time?"

Ernesto beamed and clapped Hector on the back, almost causing him to spit out his apple.

"8:30, my place. Bring your guitar. Oh, look at the time. I've got to run. See you tonight Hector!"

With that, Ernesto turned on his heel and left, waving before he strode out of and shut the door. Imelda moved from her spot at the counter to place her head on Hector's shoulder, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I swear, amor, he has you running all over this city."

Turning him around to face her, she put a hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

"Promise you won't be out too late?"

Hector leaned down to kiss his wife, smiling.

"I promise."

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

Coco lay in bed, braids spread out on her pillow as she looked up at both of her parents. Imelda sat on her right, lovingly stroking her hair, while Hector stood on her left, white skull guitar in hand as he donned his "performance suit". Imelda bent to kiss her daughter's forehead, stroking her hair once more before standing and saying,

"Buenos Noches, Mi'ija. We'll see you in the morning."

Coco smiled and watched her mother stand, calling goodnight as Imelda kissed her husband and exited the room. She knew what came next, and she didn't want to interrupt the special father-daughter ritual. Hector moved over to the side of Coco's bed, smiling in his special, tender way. He bent to kiss his daughter, lingering for a moment as she reached up to hug his neck. He knew he would be there when she woke up in the morning, to make breakfast and sing to her, but every time he left he couldn't help but feel guilty. Coco didn't care, though. She knew her Papa had special music things to do, and as long as he came home, she would be happy. She giggled in anticipation as Hector slung his guitar across his chest, shifting a bit before smiling at his precious mi'ija and letting his fingers strum the guitar. The familiar tune began to fill the soft silence of the room, and he closed his eyes before he let himself be lost in the song.

"Remember me.........."

#whoo #my fanfiction #please read #i need validation #coco #coco spoilers #coco 2017 #coco pixar #hector rivera #hector #mama imelda #imelda #mama coco #ernesto de la cruz #hector x imelda #coco fanfiction

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amillionsmiles · 7 years

Note

“You started sitting by me at lunch because I’m alone at my table but we never talk to each other” AU (Sheith or plance whatever inspires you!)

combined this with another college AU I saw floating around somewhere that said: “You’re the RA and you’re trying to bust me for having hermit crabs.” I’m sorry but I’m also not. here ya go, Justine ;)

[Ao3 link] in case you want to read there bc it got a little long

“Hey, mind if I sit?”

Keith looks up from his Econ 1 reading to find Shiro hovering by the seat in front of him, a plate in either hand. A well-balanced meal, Keith notes—one plate has been dedicated specifically to fruits and vegetables, the other piled with careful portions of today’s chicken stir-fry, eggplant, and brown rice.

Shrugging, he says, “It’s a free country,” mostly because he knows that Shiro will sit down anyways. It must be an RA thing: the ability to, at any time, locate one of your residents and administer whatever aid is needed. In this case, Shiro has noticed Keith’s empty table, swooping in to save his freshman from being That One Kid Sitting By Himself in the Corner.

What Shiro has overlooked, however, is that Keith is eating alone by choice. He has twenty minutes to scarf down his food and assemble an understanding of the income elasticity of demand before he heads to section. More like twelve minutes, once you factor in how long it takes to put up his dishes and dash across campus. So yeah, not much time for small talk.

Unfazed, Shiro sits down, swiping some napkins from the table dispenser.

“I’ll leave you to your work,” he says knowingly, eyes twinkling with good humor as he raises a fork and knife and busies himself with cutting up his lunch. Keith blinks, a little, at that, before shoveling the rest of his cornbread in his mouth and relocating his paragraph on the page.

He reminds himself that Shiro gets paid for this. It makes him feel less guilty.

The thing is, Keith has a secret.

While other people choose to stock their dorm rooms with succulents, coffee machines, or decked out desktops, Keith came to college certain of one thing: he was taking his hermit crabs with him. Rescued from a booth on the boardwalk during the senior year field trip, Pearl and Raf have remained safely in his care for a year now. There wasn’t anyone back home he trusted leaving their tank with, so they had to come here.

Rolo has been an accommodating roommate, for the most part. Largely, Keith suspects, because Rolo just doesn’t give a shit. Their relationship revolves around the age-old motto of “you do your thing and I do mine.” Each boy’s junk stays on his respective side of the room. The trash gets taken out on time. The system works.

And if Rolo ever does decide to throw Keith under the bus of the “no pets” policy, well. Keith knows where Rolo hides his weed.

Still, these reassurances don’t protect Keith from the miniature heart attack he suffers when someone knocks on their door. Hurriedly, Keith scoops Pearl and Raf off his desk and back into their tank, throwing a tarp over it.

When he eases the door open, Shiro is standing in the hall, one hand braced against the doorframe. The pose pulls his shirt tightly across his chest, accentuating his pecs, and Keith is reminded that his RA is a junior on the swimming team. Those arms could probably heave Keith over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and it would be no problem for Shiro to muscle his way into the room.

Shit. The realization smacks Keith in the face. Shiro knows about the crabs. He’s here to confiscate them.

Keith is not going down without a fight.

“Keith!” Shiro smiles, which is already suspicious. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Keith answers. Wary.

Shiro nods. “Good. Because we’d love to have you join us for the hall meeting…” He trails off, raising an eyebrow.

Keith glances behind him to the clock on his table. 10 PM. Wednesday. Hall meeting. That was…definitely an email that was sent, which he might have deleted without reading.

“Right,” Keith says, squeezing through the small opening he left between the door and the frame. Shiro steps back to give him space; Keith tries to hide his relief when the door clicks shut behind him. Pearl and Raf will remain safe for another day.

“Well?” he asks, starting ahead. Behind him, Shiro is watching him strangely, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

It is 3 AM in the goddamn morning. Keith shifts from foot to foot for warmth, blowing air into his hands. The fire alarm continues to screech, whistling through the wintry air as the rest of the dorm residents stagger outside. Lance, who lives down the hall from him, walks over, some sort of white paste caked to his face.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No,” grunts Keith.

“Don’t know why I thought you would,” Lance mutters, leaving to find someone more helpful.

“Smart, grabbing your jacket,” someone else says; Keith turns to find Shiro grinning at him, clad in nothing but fraying red pajama pants and a black muscle tee. The cold doesn’t seem to faze him. Makes sense, since Keith is pretty sure Shiro was meant to be a bronze statue somewhere and just got lost in transit.

“Yeah,” Keith says, not wanting to betray the fact that currently, there’s a hermit crab shoved in each pocket of said jacket. He hadn’t been sure if the fire was real or not—better safe than sorry. It’s not going to be good for Pearl and Raf, though, if they stay out in this temperature any longer.

Shiro places a hand on his shoulder. Keith nearly jumps under the touch. “I’m going to go make sure everyone else is okay. Stay warm, all right?”

“All right,” Keith says, finding his voice, but Shiro has already disappeared into the crowd.

Saturday night, the common room smells like blueberry pancakes. People poke their heads in, shuffling away when Shiro gives an apologetic look and says, “Sorry, guys, I’m out.” It’s almost 2 AM and his on call is winding down; on the couch, Keith settles in, closing his eyes and readying himself for some blessed peace.

“Keith?”

Slowly—and not without a hint of annoyance—Keith opens his eyes. Shiro frowns at him over the top of the sofa, a streak of flour dashed across the bridge of his nose, somehow.

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?”

“Can’t,” Keith grumbles. “There’s a sock on my door.” He’d known it was only a matter of time—Rolo and Nyma had been orbiting each other all of this past month—but the sexiling is a bit of an annoyance.

Shiro bites his lip, but his amusement at Keith’s predicament shows in the upward tick of his eyebrows, the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

“You can crash in my room, if you want.”

“It’s okay,” Keith says quickly.

“Seriously, Keith. I’ve got an extra mattress and you’ll be undisturbed. Plus that way you’ll be safe from anyone drawing on your face or taking a picture for the dorm slideshow.” This last part, said teasingly.

Keith thinks about it a little longer.

“All right, fine,” he decides, sitting up. He just barely manages to catch the keys Shiro tosses at him.

“I need to finish cleaning up here. Leave the door unlocked—you know where my room is, right?”

“How could I not,” Keith says, shuffling out of the lounge.

He pushes open Shiro’s door carefully. He’s caught glimpses inside it once or twice while passing by, but he’s never set foot in it before, despite numerous invitations. It’s small but well-kept: a spare mattress underneath the lofted bed, a couch pushed up against the other wall, a nice monitor and various posters—Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and one that probably makes sense to history majors but which Keith is too tired to try and figure out right now.

He toes off his shoes and sets them aside so Shiro won’t trip over them, then goes to the mattress, curling up on his side. There’s even a blanket, which he draws to his chin; that sends its smell wafting toward his nose, and suddenly he’s no longer tired.

The door handle turns. Keith snaps his eyes closed, feigning sleep. Shiro’s feet tread quietly across the carpet as he putters about the room; a few minutes later, the bedsprings above Keith’s head squeak, the sound of a body rolling into place.

Turning over onto his back, Keith stares up above him, eyes straining in the dark. Shiro’s breaths come in soft, quiet puffs—a sound that should be soothing, but one that, instead, sets Keith’s heart beating faster. Weird. It’s never done that before.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

The rest of the year passes by uneventfully. Keith decides that he most definitely is not going to be an Econ major and, at the same time, discovers a hidden passion for pottery. Summer comes and goes, and soon enough he’s back on campus, trying to decide if he really has the stomach to eat today’s green bean special.

“Keith?”

It’s been a long time since he’s heard that voice. Even more shocking: the realization that he missed it.

He turns and Shiro is there, two plates like always, white-dyed tuft of hair swooping over his forehead.

“Hey,” says Keith, strangely self-conscious.

Shiro smiles. “Are you sitting with anyone?”

“No.”

“Great. Let’s catch up, then,” he says, tilting his head, and there’s something new in the air between them now, their old lines and roles fallen away.

Keith follows. He’s ready to talk.

Somewhere after the fifth time Keith makes Shiro laugh and the second time Shiro asks him on a date, they end up back at Keith’s place.

Thank god I drew into a single this year, Keith thinks as the door clicks shut behind him, Shiro a long line of muscle against his front, shifting under his hands. Shiro’s shirt comes off and Keith kicks out of his shoes, stumbling forward in the dark—fingers grip his waist tightly, yanking him closer, and there’s a heady power to this, the knowledge that he can just keep guiding Shiro backwards with nothing but a press to his chest, backwards and backwards until they both fall onto his bed—

A teasing bite against his collarbone; his heart stutters for a beat, hands fumbling at Shiro’s belt, and then he trips over something and hits the corner of his desk.

“Fuck,” Keith swears, partly because of the throbbing pain in his hip and partly because Shiro has just licked a stripe up the column of his neck. Squinting through the blend of pain and desire, he turns on his desk lamp, just to make sure they haven’t knocked anything over.

To his relief, his haphazardly stacked column of books remains intact. And the tank is fine, too—

Shiro, who up until this point has been doing an admirable job of working Keith free of his pants, stops. His hair is mussed, his lips bitten red, a throaty disbelief in his voice as he turns toward the light and says:

“Are those…hermit crabs?”

#voltron #sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #shiro #keith #otp: good to have you back #my writing #fanfiction #ff: voltron #i have no regrets #justineinwander

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naomiwithanovel · 7 years

Photo

i’m going back to college in a few weeks, and although there are a lot of things i am looking forward to, decorating my dorm room is definitely at the top of my list. this post is for anyone else who is excited to decorate their room!

consider your space

if your room is set up the way mine is, you might only have half a room (assuming you have a roommate), a bed, a desk, and a dresser. it is important to decorate your room to work with the amount of space you have.

some tips if you don’t have a lot of room:

loft your bed, if possible/allowed. this allows you to put your desk, dresser, mini-fridge, etc. underneath your bed. a downside to this is it takes a little more effort to climb into bed, but it does allow for more floor space, which is probably worth it.

don’t overpack! this is more of a packing tip than a decorating tip, but a room with too many things in it can look cluttered. so keep in mind what you are provided. if you don’t have many drawers in your dresser and you don’t have a large closet, don’t bring more clothes than you absolutely need, for example.

communicate with your roommate ahead of time. some items can be shared. for example, only one of you might need to bring a tv or a fridge. sharing these things might allow you to have more room space.

also! think about wall space! do you know if you have tall ceilings? if so, you might have more room for posters/art/banners. if not, you might not want to bring too many wall items, but you definitely should put some things on your wall. (sidenote, keep in mind what your college allows. you most likely will need to buy command strips or command hooks to hang things, because most schools will not allow holes in the walls)

consider your aesthetic

this is my personal favorite part of decorating a room. like your blog theme or your bullet journal, your bedroom can be designed to fit your exact aesthetic preferences!

a few ideas:

have a color scheme! get items that complement each other. you can get matching bedding, rugs, etc. that bring your room together.

let your room represent your personality. this is easiest to accomplish through the items you hang on your walls. you can get posters and art that you find aesthetically pleasing, and you can get posters of your favorite musicians, etc. it really is all up to you.

even simple decorations can go a long way. just putting magnets you like on your fridge can make your room look less like a boring dorm room and more like your room. hanging lights above your bed can change the appearance of your room a lot more than you might think.

as a member of the studyblr community, which i assume you are, you might like to put a lot of effort into your desk space. keep a balance between aesthetic and efficience. have motivational posters above your desk, keep your desk organized and looking nice, etc. and you can decorate your desk with succulents!!

consider your budget

you might be reading this and thinking “lmao i’m barely able to afford the necessities, let alone my aesthetic preferences.” if so, here are some tips on how to decorate your room without spending your entire life savings

make your own decorations! pinterest will probably be your best friend if you decide to do this. there are a lot of diy decorations for dorm rooms. you can find creative ways to hang pictures, or you can make creative wall art yourself. this is also a great way to have a more personalized room

go to thrift shops. you never know what you might find, but it could be good!

some smaller decorations (like i mentioned before) aren’t too expensive anyway. potted succulents don’t cost too much, and they’re typically cheap. using washi tape around your room (especially in the desk area) can transform the look of your room entirely.

transform! so many items can be turned into other items. use a sheet or some other kind of fabric as a tapestry. use cans and mugs and jars to hold things, like pens and pencils. simple paintings and pictures can look so much nicer when put in a frame. be creative!

#mp #studyblr #university #college tips #college #dorm room #college dorm #studyblr advice #studyblr tips #*#text #ref

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this-is-a-chat-astrophe · 7 years

Text

Oblivious ch 7

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8

AO3

Marinette is afraid that she ruined two beautiful things before they really had the chance to begin. Chat Noir hasn’t texted her in days and a lack of akumas came with a lack of opportunities to see her crush. I must have made him uncomfortable, she thought to herself, face shoved into her pillow. She knows that she’s also ruined her friendship with Adrien by avoiding him. Maybe Chat somehow found out about her budding crush for Adrien and decided he didn’t want to talk to a person so fickle.

She screams into her pillow at two in the morning, drowning out the knock on her roof.

Adrien knows this is a bad idea but he has to know. She’s seemed so down the past few days and it hurts to not know the reason. He could text her, it would be so much easier than rousing Plagg in the middle of the night for a surprise excursion, but he is drawn to her. No matter how stabbing the pain of seeing her is, her sadness hurts even more. He wants to be close to her, even if it couldn’t be as Adrien.

When she doesn’t answer, he knocks on the balcony hatch a second time, this time in a short tune so she knows it’s deliberate as opposed to the wind tipping a flower pot.

The noise startles Marinette, but before fear can take control Tikki assures her there is no danger. “Just open it,” the cheery red companion says. Marinette gasps when bright green eyes peer at her when she opens the hatch.

“Hi, Marinette,” he says as casually as he can, heart beating painfully fast. She’s wearing Chat-noir themed pajamas: black paw-print patterned pajama pants with a green tee shirt. Hopefully the darkness hides his blush. “Can I come in?”

Marinette blushes and stutters but steps aside to clear his path. Chat jumps in, nearly falling off her lofted bed, and follows her down to the main area of her room. She sits on her desk chair and motions him to the chaise lounge.

“W-what’re you doing here?”

“I saw you earlier and you seemed sad so I was wondering if you were okay,” he says, the words well rehearsed. Plagg could recite the statement from memory due to the number of times Adrien practiced it during the day.

I can’t tell him the truth, she thinks to herself, but I don’t want to lie. She decides to bend the truth. “Things are weird between a friend and I right now. I know I have Alya and Nino but I feel like I can’t tell them everything so it’s been pretty lonely. It’s like there’s a part of me that only he gets.”

“Do you like him?” Adrien asks before he can stop the words. Stupid! he yells at himself. He doesn’t want know the answer but it’s too late now.

Blush dusts Marinette’s cheeks. It’s one thing to bend the truth for a vague question, but she can’t bring herself to lie when he asks her something so straightforward, no matter how much she’d prefer to not tell him. As his partner, she owes him honesty, even if he doesn’t know that’s the case.

“I don’t know. A few days ago my friend and I hung out like we’d done plenty of times before but something changed and I don’t know what to think anymore. I already have someone I like so I feel awful for even thinking that way about Adrien.”

Chat startles, nearly falling off the lounge. He catches himself halfway down, looking ridiculous with his body hanging off the chair.

“Are you okay?”

Marinette gets up to help but he is already back in his chair.

“Do you mean Adrien Agreste?”

Fidgeting hands and a quiet nod are her answer.

Chat barely hides a smile.

“We are -were- close friends, or at least I think we were.” Marinette can’t look Chat in the eyes but she can’t seem to shut her mouth either and the words pour out. “He always seems so lonely. He doesn’t have many friends, which I don’t understand because he’s a good, kind person, so I want to be there for him.”

Her words burn a hole in Chat’s heart. She thinks he’s a good, kind person, and that makes everything a little better. But her opening and closing statements cool the embers.

“You haven’t stopped being friends just because things are weird between you two, unless that’s what you want. And if you want to be there for m-him, why aren’t you?” He curses himself for his near slip-up. “He’s probably hurting too, if he’s really as lonely as you say.”

Marinette drops her head in her hands, groaning. “I know, and that makes me feel even worse about it! I don’t want to make him even lonelier but I don’t know what to do. I like someone else but recently whenever I see Adrien my chest hurts and I don’t know what to say.”

“Who is the other person you like?” Chat asks tentatively, anticipating heartbreak.

Neither of them can bare to look up.

“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters, voice small enough to draw Chat’s attention. He’s never heard her sound so insecure before. “He’s way out of my league so it’ll never happen.” After a pause, she adds, “Not that Adrien’s not out of my league. Either way I’m destined for heartbreak.”

Chat is dumbstruck. Marinette is one of the most confident people he’s ever met; he never imagined she would think of herself in such a way. She think he’s out of her league? It’s the complete opposite!

The dull sound of Chat’s boots moving across the room makes Marinette think she scared him away. Of course he’s going to leave, we barely know each other as Marinette and Chat Noir so I shouldn’t have unloaded so much on him, she chides herself. But then the footsteps get louder, as if he’s coming closer. Something falls over her and she nearly screams, but then she realizes it’s her blanket.

“I’m going to drop my transformation for a few minutes if that’s okay,” she hears through the fabric. She replies with a simple okay. “Plagg, claws in.” A faint gleam of green shows through the blanket but that’s all she sees.

“You got any cheese lady?”

Marinette yelps at the new voice.

“Plagg, don’t be rude,” Adrien reprimands. “There’s cheese in my bag.”

With Plagg taken care of, Adrien addresses the issue at hand. “I’m going to give you my hand, okay?”

“O-okay.”

A naked hand slides under the blanket, reaching for hers.

Internally, Marinette is freaking out. Chat Noir is in her room, in his civilian form, holding her hand. In this moment she could die happy, though she hopes that won’t be the case.

“I’ve heard that you can tell if someone’s lying by if their heart rate increases. I want you to know that I’m going to tell the truth.” It isn’t until he feels Marinette’s cool fingers press against his wrist that he continues. “There is nobody out of your league. You’re determined and beautiful and you can make anyone fall in love with you, sometimes without even trying. If you think someone’s out of your league, it’s because you underestimate yourself and overestimate them. In the end we’re all human.”

“Even you?” she jokes, knowing full well it’s true.

Chat chuckles. “Yes, princess, even me. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a teenage boy under the leather and cat ears.”

“A very busy one, apparently.” She means it as a joke but the words feel like acid in her mouth, corroding her smile from the inside out.

“Well yeah,” Chat answers, surprised. “But why do you say that?”

Marinette answers equally confused. “You haven’t answered my texts in the past few days.”

“I never got them.” Adrien’s words slow as understanding sinks in. He cranes his head to glare at the feline god atop his satchel. At Plagg, he mouths, we’re talking about this later. Plagg turns away. He doesn’t regret what he did. “You can try texting me now and we’ll see if it’ll go through.”

“My phone is, um, not on me. I think it’s on my desk.”

Adrien looks past her at the desk. The device isn’t there.

“Nope, not there.”

“In my vanity?”

The loss of contact when he stands makes the both of them shiver, not that either can see the other’s reaction.

“Still nothing,” he answers after checking each drawer.

“Dresser?”

Adrien raises a brow in question though she can’t see. “Do you really want me looking through your dresser?”

Embarrassed, Marinette squeaks. “Of course not! I meant on it.”

It’s Adrien’s turn to be embarrassed. He looks over at the dresser and on top of it is Marinette’s phone. He retrieves the device and gives it to Marinette.

Moments later Adrien’s phone dings. The lock screen reads One New Message. The message, from Marinette, is a shadowy photo of her underneath the blanket, smiling awkwardly. He finds it endearing and saves it, though he doesn’t tell her that. “I got it.”

Then he notices the time.

“Plagg, claws out.”

Chat Noir folds the blanket backwards, exposing Marinette’s face. She instantly blushes at the sight of his cocky grin in such close proximity to her face. “Looks like I gotta go, purrincess. This knight has an early engagement and needs his beauty sleep.” Suddenly Chat realizes how close they are and pulls back, creating space between them.

Halfway up the ladder to her loft Chat stops to give his love some parting advice. “I don’t know about the other guy, but maybe you should give Adrien a chance. I heard somewhere that he’s a good, kind person.” He puts an extra teasing emphasis on his last words, echoing Marinette’s compliment from earlier.

The plush toy Marinette launches at Chat Noir hits him square on the leg, catching him off guard and sending him to the floor with a loud thump.

Marinette is frozen in shock, horrified. She hadn’t thought she’d hit him, especially that hard.

Footsteps coming up the stairs send Marinette into action. She pulls the blanket from her shoulders and drapes it over Chat, hoping she can get to the door before her parents do so she can hide their view.

Tom and Sabine pop their heads up the same time Marinette kneels beside the attic hatch leading into her room.

“Sorry about the noise, I fell out of my chair,” she lies, hoping a story of her clumsiness will placate them.

“You should be more careful, dear,” says Sabine. Her husband stifles a yawn behind her. “We’re going back to bed. Goodnight Marinette, we love you.”

“Goodnight maman, papa. I love you too.”

Once they’re back down the stairs, Marinette and Chat both breathe a sigh of relief. Her parents would be extremely upset if they found a boy in her room this late at night, even if he was a hero. Especially if he was a hero, even, because of the secret identity and everything.

“I really do need to go.” Chat is still underneath the blanket, only the toes of one boot sticking out from the sheath of pink.

Marinette gathers the blanket from on top of the hero and giggles when she sees him. He’s posed, laying sideways on the floor with one knee bent and propping up his head on a hand, the other arm bent up. It’s a classic ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose.

“Goodnight Chat.”

He pauses, wondering if he should push it. “I…” Chat almosts drop the subject but then Marinette tilts her head and her hair falls in her face and she tucks it back behind her ear and Adrien’s heart bangs in his chest and the words come out on their own. “I meant what I said about giving Adrien a chance. I hope you at least talk to him, because he probably doesn’t even know why things are weird between you two right now. He probably thinks he lost one of his only friends and that it’s his fault.”

Marinette reaches out a hand to help him up. He takes it and tries to ignore how small her hands are in comparison to his. How didn’t he notice that earlier?

“You’re right, Chat.”

Chat salutes her and bids his lovely princess goodnight.

Their interaction runs through Marinette’s mind for the rest of the night. She plays it through over and over again, picking it apart, asking Tikki advice and insight. Chat Noir complimented her and confirmed that he wasn’t ignoring her, which was amazing. But he also practically recommended Marinette date Adrien, unaware that he is the other person she cares for. Isn’t that a bad sign? That means he doesn’t like her, right?

“I don’t know, Marinette.” Tikki says, cutting Marinette’s woeful rant short. “It might mean he doesn’t like you. It might also mean he’d rather you be with Adrien, whom he knows is a good person, than the other person who you didn’t say anything about since the lack of information made him think the worst. You won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

Marinette snorts. “There’s no way I’m just going to go up to him and say ‘hey hot stuff, you told me to try dating Adrien but did you do that because you aren’t interested in me or because you didn’t realize the other person I like is you and you would rather I be with someone that you know is a good person than someone you know nothing about?’ That’s not happening.”

“Are you going to follow his advice?”

Sigh. “I don’t know. I’m definitely going to talk to Adrien, though. It’s not fair for me to ignore him without giving him a reason why.”

“Apology cookies always work on me!” Tikki chirps.

This makes Marinette smile. “That settles it. I’m going to school tomorrow with a bag of cookies and an apology.”

_________________________

“Plagg, did you delete my messages?!”

Plagg flies to the top of the rock wall, hiding from his charge’s wrath despite knowing the worst Adrien would do is deny him cheese. “You were hurting, kid. I don’t like seeing my kittens hurting.”

Adrien’s glare softens. Plagg seems like a mean old grump but he really cares. “Plagg, come back down. I’ll get you some cheese before I go to bed.”

The god zips down from his perch into the arms of his human. “I’m glad you’re doing better,” he mumbles.

“She said she might like Adrien, meaning I still have a chance. I’m hoping luck is on my side just this once.”

‘I’m the god of bad luck so don’t hold your hopes up,’ Plagg thinks, but for once he keeps his mouth shut and lets Adrien have some peace.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrienette #marichat #my drabbles

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