#ship confession

hello. welcome to rpfdovefess; an RPF confessional blog for proshippers :P

ran by ONE guy (currently), who is an autistic multigendered punk

RULES/BYC:

⟢ Don't be a bigot/bully/whatever. common sense

⟢ You don't have to be profic to submit a confession, nor do your confessions need to consist of something profic related; this blog is simply based around it. Any confessions are welcome!

⟢ Same for your kind of RPF – this is not solely for bandom. Actors, racers, such and such are all also allowed

⟢ Be as open as you please, but don't be a parasocial weirdo.

⟢ RADQUEERS DO NOT INTERACT. If you decide to, keep that to yourself, I do not like you.

EXTRA:

⟢ This isn't a blog for antis, but you aren't entirely DNI, as confessions aren't solely for profic topics. Just don't come here to hate

⟢ This blog isn't necessarily inspired by anyone in particular, just the plethora of confession blogs across Tumblr history, however if I seem overly plagiarized from anyone I do apologize as it was not my intention!

[Sequel to A Silly Question]

Sonic was on his third cup of coffee and still hung over. Is this what all the fuss was about? Once was enough, he decided. He was never drinking again. 

Shadow was hitting the caffeine as well, not that it seemed to affect him much. He might not need a lot of sleep, but he’d hardly gotten any, stuck on the couch all night once Sonic dozed off on his shoulder. Sonic felt bad about that, looking at the dark bags beneath his eyes.

“You could have kicked me off and gone to bed,” he suggested, too late.

Shadow ignored him. “Another refill?” He gestured at Sonic’s cup with a fresh, steaming pitcher.

“Thank you.”

Truthfully, Sonic felt a bit awkward. Embarrassed. He’d made a fool of himself, and Shadow was being so nice about it for some reason.

He sighed, staring into his steaming cup. Sometimes he thought it was easier when he was berated. Still, maybe this was the perfect time to tell him. When he might not make such a big deal out of it.

“Shadow… Can I tell you something?” His heart thrummed against his chest. His fingers dug into the couch cushions. So much for not making a big deal out of it.

“Told me plenty while you were drunk,” Shadow returned drily, putting the coffeepot back in its place in the kitchen.

Sonic flushed. He’d meant to tell him last night, but it never happened. He vaguely remembered babbling about something stupid and getting emotional. And Shadow’s response. I don’t dislike you. That was something, wasn’t it?

“Remember when you said you don’t… dislike me?”

Shadow shot him a meaningful look. “Don’t make me regret it.”

A nervous giggle escaped him. God, he couldn’t breathe. “So the thing is … I don’t dislike you, either. I mean… I like you, I mean.”

Shadow snorted. “I think we've established that.”

What? He knew? But the relaxed, amused glint in Shadow’s eyes as he returned to the living room convinced Sonic he’d been misunderstood.

He gritted his teeth and forced out the words. “No, I mean… I like you… more than I like other people.”

Shadow rolled his eyes and took a sip from his own cup.

“I mean, different than I like other people.”

Silence. Shadow set his cup down on the counter, and then carefully, as though moving in slow motion, he stepped around the coffee table and lowered himself onto the couch, a good 3 feet from where Sonic sat. He was flushing furiously beneath the soft, fine layer of beige fur around his nose. He looked down at his hands, twisting one golden ring around and around.

“I don't… I don't think I can do that right now,” he said finally.

Sonic frowned. “Do what?

“I mean I'm not… I’m not the kind of person who can be a good… partner… to somebody.”

Sonic was quiet for a moment, considering this. “I guess I don't want you to be. I just wanted you to know.”

Shadow blinked. “Oh.”

Sonic shifted. “Yeah, I mean, I just wanted you to know. And like, whenever you do have the energy, I’d love to just… be near you.”

Shadows flaming cheeks deepened a few more shades. “I see.”

“Is that okay?”

For the first time, Shadow met his gaze. Something behind his eyes softened. “Yeah. “

It took everything Sonic had in that moment not to pump his fist into the air. Instead he smiled. Beamed. “Okay. I'll come back later then.” And he launched himself off the couch and toward the door.

“Just tell me, you know,” he added, hesitating midstep. “If it's too much.”

Shadow examined him silently for a moment, sizing him up. Determining if he could take that kind of honesty. “I will,” he said finally. And even smiled a little. 

-

“Can I hold your hand?”

Shadow froze, fingers poised over the tablet screen. This particular puzzle game was free, if glitchy and full of ads, but it was the only thing that worked to slow the thoughts he got sometimes. And, more importantly, it was easier to play with two hands.

He turned his head to look at the other end of the couch where Sonic was decidedly not looking at him. His knees were drawn up tightly and he was fidgeting with the tassels of the blanket that had essentially become his over the last few weeks’ worth of evenings.

“Why?” Shadow’s tone came off a bit grumpier than he’d meant it to.

Sonic lifted one shoulder in a shrug and ventured a glance at him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Shadow didn’t move for a couple of moments. Then, he extended one hand gingerly onto the middle couch cushion and left it there. Sonic scooped it up eagerly in both of his, jostling one smooth golden bangle in the process and sending a jolt of panic through its owner. Shadow jerked away like he’d been burned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that bother you?” Sonic looked genuinely horrified. 

Shadow let out a breath. “N-No. I was just surprised,” he said, and returned his hand to its place on the center cushion.

Sonic didn’t take it. “I won’t do it again.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me! If it bothers you.” Sonic actually sounded angry, and Shadow blinked at him.

“It doesn’t - it just startled me, that’s all! I don’t like taking them off and I got..” I got scared, he wanted to say, but didn’t.

Sonic tilted his head quizzically. “Why not? Does it hurt?”

Shadow shook his head once, noncommittally. “More like it’s a lot of pressure. In my head and my chest. And a ringing sound.”

Sonic sat back. “Wow. I had no idea.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shadow repeated, and Sonic pursed his lips in frustration. But he must have decided to let it go, since he soon took the offered hand again, more carefully this time, and knitted his fingers between Shadow’s.

“This is nice,” he said after a while, and Shadow realized he’d stopped trying to play his game.

The thoughts had stopped on their own.

Excerpt:

Adrien had arrived at the dance early, in the hopes that she’d already be there, but she wasn’t. He stood near the far wall, sipping punch as students from all three levels of the Lycée trickled in. The Seconde years were always the first to arrive (besides him, evidently), not wanting to miss out on anything, but the party didn’t pick up steam until level Terminale arrived. Before long, they commanded the dance floor, and the party was in full swing. He couldn’t bring himself to join in. Not yet. Dieu, he was desperate to see her.

What would he say when he saw her? Would he kiss her on the spot? No, that was far too drastic. He had to get a hold of himself, but nothing had worked. It hadn’t even been a full day, but it had been enough for Nino to notice he was behaving strangely. But he hadn’t had the chance to talk to her about it since the akuma attack…

He knew she was nervous. But so was he! They’d been fighting side by side for four years, and he’d never known… Dieu, if he had only known…

He glanced up and choked on his punch, spluttering and setting it aside before she noticed. He had to be cool.

Because there she was. Standing in the doorway, her eyes darting around nervously. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, in a light pink dress embroidered with roses. It was so her it made him want to weep. Or laugh. Or dissolve into a puddle. Oh, so many emotions, he didn’t know what to think.

She made eye contact with him from across the room, and before he knew it, he was by her side.

“Hi,” he said, breathlessly. She gazed up at him, a clear blush across her cheeks.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into her eyes. How had he never noticed before? They had the same eyes. He almost couldn’t believe it if it wasn’t so perfect. He was staring at her. And not saying a thing. What to say? A change in the music knocked him to his senses.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his breath not quite restored.

“Okay,” she nodded shyly. He took her hand, and they took to the dance floor with all the other couples in their year. It was a slow song; perfect timing. He had to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming as he placed his hand on her waist and hers rested on his shoulder. He took her other hand lightly in his, and they began to sway.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said suddenly. He peered down at her, surprised. She was blushing so furiously now.

“For what?” he asked, befuddled.

“Just that— for how we found out. I messed up,” she said, biting her lip. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“It’s not your fault,” he said in disbelief. “Neither of us saw it coming! Hawkmoth was ready; he timed it perfectly.”

“But he may know now!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said firmly. “We’ll keep fighting like we always do. And I’m glad it was you.” He said, peering into her eyes. The redness in her cheeks had not faded.

“You don’t have to…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish, turning her gaze away.

“What?” he asked, but she didn’t answer, her cheeks getting even pinker. She seemed uncomfortable. Sad. “I don’t have to what?” he murmured.

“You don’t have to pretend,” she managed. “I know this was a shock to both of us. I know it may be disappointing—” she choked. “—that it’s me.” Adrien froze. “I know you’ve harbored feelings for Ladybug for so long, I know it’s… I’m a different person… You don’t have to pretend you love me.”

And suddenly everything made sense. It slammed into him like a freight train. She’d been avoiding him because she thought this changed things. Changed them.

“Marinette,” he breathed, watching her. “Please look at me.” After a moment’s hesitation, she did, her eyes watery. “I was never in love with Ladybug.” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s a lie,” she said, a bit of that Ladybug sass showing itself. His heart swelled.

“It’s not,” he replied, with a tilted smile. “I was in love with the girl beneath the mask. I couldn’t call her by a name other than Ladybug, but now that I know… Marinette… I’m in love with you. I have been this whole time; I just didn’t know it.”