#adastrabella

im in college folks everything that happens in this fic has happened to/was done by someone i know

not that i know anything about uni in france. ive got a class in less than an hour bear with me (also i know that this isnt what these asks were for but let me live) 

Honestly, Marinette isn’t surprised that she’s already given up a decent sleeping schedule already. Sure it may only be the second week of classes, but she’s never been the best at going to bed at a healthy hour and getting up...well at all really.

And if she’s up until two then she’s hungry and that is why she’s grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn and is slipping into the longue as quietly as possible. 

Popcorn isn’t a quiet food to make, but Marinette hopes no one will care. 

When she turns to face the microwave she freezes. “What are you doing?” 

The boy — she vaguely recognizes him from the first day when they went in a circle and did introductions and is pretty sure his name either starts with an N or an M — looks up from the sink. “Eating cup ramen.” 

Marinette blinks. “But why...like that.” 

He takes another careful sip from the cup before he says, “I don’t have a fork.” 

She nods slowly. 

“This way I can just drink it without spilling it all over the place.” 

Marinette nods again and opens her popcorn. “Where’d you get the hot water?” she asks after her popcorn is in the microwave and he’s drank more of his soup. Marinette wraps her arms around herself and leans against the counter

“Coffee maker,” he says. “Spilt a bunch of water I didn’t realize the one I had just uses all the water you put in.” He lowers his cup and looks over to her. “Nino, by the way.” 

“Marinette.” 

“I know,” he says with a smile. “Fashion design major, right?” 

She blinks. “Uh...yeah. You? Sorry I don’t...” 

“It’s fine,” he says with a shrug. “Film.” He drains the rest of his soup and tosses the empty cup in the trash. He looks like he might want to leave and Marinette doesn’t think she wants that. 

“Want any popcorn?” she asks suddenly. She gestures to the microwave. “I’m not going to finish all of it.” 

Do you like sweaters?

--

“There’s a part of you that’s curious about me,” Laurel says. “Isn’t there, Felicity?”

She swears she can smell Laurel’s breath through the glass, a mix of peppermint gum and diet soda. No. No. That’s what her Laurel’s breath was like, always faintly sweet and cloying. This is not her Laurel. “I’m not interested in you.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that, Felicity?” she says, teasing. “What do you want from me?”

“This is just my face,” Felicity says. “I’m not looking at you. I’m not-“

“Do you want to ask me something?” Laurel asks. “Do you want to take me apart?”

“No!” Felicity insists. “I want you to- I want you gone. I want you out of this city and my life and somewhere I don’t have to look at you.”

“Oh,” Laurel says. “Oh, Felicity. Why didn’t you just say so?”

Felicity stares at her lips. “Say what?”

“If you want me to go home so badly,” Laurel says. “Send me home. We can make a deal, too. Just between us girls.”

Felicity curls her lip, letting out a noise of distrust. “There’s nothing I want from you.”

“Nothing?” Laurel asks, and the tone of it makes goosebumps dot the backs of Felicity’s arms.

“Nothing,” Felicity says.”

“But Felicity,” Laurel says, jutting out her lower lip. “I’ll do the one thing you want. Bad things. Things Ollie wouldn’t do.”

Felicity draws her fingers to her throat, the touch of her nails to her pulse. It’s a net, it’s a trap, it’s quicksand and she feels herself sinking. “Like what?”

thanks sim!

I'm that way w Magnus don't worry about it I almost cried last ep when griffin mentioned he might get a dog

!!! #givemagnusadog2kforever!! he deserves a dog after all of this tbh 

No need to apologize!! Ur love for lup is pure and good!!

Her sources say, “The Black Canary is dead,” and Nyssa pretends to accept it. 

Nyssa says, “I’m sorry I didn’t do enough for you,” at her funeral, and the finality settles in her stomach like a stone.

Laurel says, still bleary and half-drowned from the pit, “Who... Who are you?”

Nyssa says, her hands trembling, “Rest. I’ll explain later.”

Laurel says, no longer remembering that her name is Laurel, says, “Yeah, Central City seems like a pretty cool place. Maybe I’ll go visit someday.”

And Nyssa says, Oliver’s arrow pointed at her heart, Laurel’s grave unearthed, the Black Canary dead, “She’s miles and miles away.”

Oliver snarls at her, and Nyssa feels a surge of pride. Confidence in her decision. “She’s too far away,” Nyssa says. “And neither of us will ever see her again.”

Oliver says, “What did you do?”