Hello!! You can call me Pink (even though that isn't my name). I am a writer who also has a lot of random thoughts to get out and interests to talk about. My first langue is not English but German and I am horrible at spelling.
Here are some things that I like:
Movies/Musicals: Cabaret, Phantom of The Opera, Project Hail Mary, Supergirl, Rango, Creep, Creep 2, Us, The Lord of the Rings, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror
TV shows: South Park, A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Pitt, My Little Pony (in a normal way), House MD, The Creep Tapes, Inside Job
Games: Red Dead Redemption 2, Crusader Kings 3, Planet Zoo, Baldur's gate 3
Books/Authors/Comics: Walter Moers, THG, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Project Hail Mary, DC (especially Batman + Batfam but I'm still very new)
Music: Alfreda, Mitski, Butthole Surfers, Frank Sinatra, Dazey and the Scouts, Big Thief, Lady Gaga, Radiohead, McDonald's Girl by Dean Friedman, Out of Touch by Daryl Hall, Richard Cheese's cover of Creep
My Hobbies/Other things I'm interested in: writing, reading, swimming, walking, politics, collage-making/collages
What am I reading?
My secondary account where I post all of my fanfiction and original fiction: theflying-pink
You are sitting comfortably on the couch at night, scrolling mindlessly through reels on Instagram. Since you watched a few space videos earlier, your feed is now filled with astronomical reels. They are interesting and fascinating, so you keep watching. Ryland gets curious about what you are watching so intently, so he looks over your shoulder at your phone screen.
A dramatic edit plays, showing how Jupiter’s gravity pulls asteroids toward itself, saving Earth from getting hit. You open the comments section because it is always an interesting place to be. Ryland starts reading the comments out loud, getting confused by internet jokes:
“Oh my God, babe, look at this. Someone wrote ‘thank you daddy jupiter’ and 13.8k people liked it? Why are they calling a gas giant ‘daddy’? Why are people like this?”
He slides his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer as you swipe to the next video. It is a gorgeous video of a solar eclipse, showing how the moon aligns in front of the sun to create a glowing ‘ring of fire’
“Wait, look at the comments on this one” Ryland says, squinting at the screen. “Someone commented, ‘Omg the sun put a ring on the moon and I can’t even get a text back’ Are people really comparing a cosmic alignment to their relationship dynamic?! The moon is just blocking the sun’s light, it’s not a marriage proposal!”
You laugh and swipe to another video. This one is another edit of Jupiter and Earth.
“Why are so many people doing this? They are planets!” He shakes his head, “look at this comment - ‘Jupiter is the protective boyfriend Earth deserves’ Earth has an atmosphere and a molten core, it does not need a boyfriend!”
He rests his chin on your shoulder, then suddenly looks closer at the next video and takes the phone right out of your hand to read a caption.
“Baby, look at this video about early space history. It shows how Saturn’s gravity pulled Jupiter back when it was moving toward the sun and about to destroy the early Earth. This is a super important science fact, right? But look at these comments. Look. They are calling it a love triangle. They say Saturn saves Jupiter because Saturn loves Jupiter, but Jupiter just wants to protect Earth. A love triangle! This is literal physics, why is everyone making gravity romantic?! Something is very wrong with internet culture!”
Meanwhile, you are shaking with laughter because he is taking these short reels way too seriously. He hears you laughing, lets out a soft sigh, and gives you a sweet kiss on the top of your head. He mutters, “Fine, laugh at me. But I am right”
Listening to him give scientific breakdowns over these edits is way more interesting than the actual reels or the comment sections themselves.
Summary: you come home, very drunk, and see a very hot guy sitting on your couch… so naturally you ask him out!
It starts with a simple, high-pitched gasp in the middle of your living room.
Jason is sitting on the couch in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, laptop on his knees, mid-snack, when you stumble through the front door. You’re wearing one of his oversized jacket slung over your shoulders, your cheeks flushed red from two too many margaritas with your friends, and your hair a complete, chaotic masterpiece.
He sets his laptop aside immediately, a half-amused, half-concerned smirk already forming on his lips. "Hey, sweetheart. How was girls' night—"
He doesn't get to finish. The moment your eyes land on him, your hands fly to your face, covering your red-hot cheeks. You freeze in place, staring at him through your fingers as if you’ve just spotted a celebrity in a coffee shop.
"Oh," you whisper loud enough for the whole apartment complex to hear. "Oh my god."
Jason blinks, pausing. "What?"
You kick off your shoes—completely missing the rack—and take three deliberate, overly cautious, drunk steps toward the couch. Your eyes are wide, glassy, and completely starstruck.
"Who are you?" you ask, leaning over the back of the couch, resting your chin on your folded hands. You beam at him, giggling softly. "Because you are... so pretty. Like so hot. Has anyone ever told you that? You look like a whole movie star."
Jason slowly looks down at his faded t-shirt, then back up at you. A playful glint flickers in his blue eyes as the reality hits him: You have completely forgotten you're already dating him.
"A movie star, huh?" Jason drawls, leaning back against the cushions and crossing his arms over his chest. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. "Can't say I hear that one often. I'm Jason."
"Jason," you sigh, the name rolling off your tongue like a melody. You sway slightly where you stand, blushing down to your collarbone. "That's a nice name. I'm... well, you know. I'm me."
"Nice to meet you, Me," he says softly, his voice dropping into that smooth, low register he knows makes you melt. "What's a girl like you doing flustered in my living room?"
"I live here! I think?" You look around the apartment, thoroughly confused for a split second, before your focus snaps right back to him like a magnet. You lean in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Listen... I know this is crazy, but... are you single?"
You pause, then giggle, “wanna know a secret? I actually wanna marry you but I think asking you if you’re single is less advanced.”
Jason bites his lower lip, trying—and failing—to hide a massive grin. "Am I single? Well... that's a tough question."
Your face falls instantly into a dramatic, adorable pout, and you genuinely look devastated. "Oh no. You have a girlfriend?"
"I do," Jason says softly, watching your reaction.
"Is she pretty?" you ask, sniffling just a little bit, clearly heartbroken.
"She's gorgeous," Jason says, his voice softening. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist gently, and pulls you over the back of the couch until you tumble right onto his lap. You gasp, your hands landing flat against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. "She’s got this ridiculously cute laugh, gets super giggly when she drinks, and is currently sitting on my lap looking at me like I hung the moon."
You stare at him, your brain slowly churning through the alcoholic fog.
1... 2... 3 seconds pass.
"Wait," you whisper, your eyes going wide. "I just drank and I am fairly giggly."
"You are."
"And I'm on your lap."
"You are."
"...I'm the pretty girlfriend?!"
Jason couldn't hold it back anymore; he threw his head back and laughed, the deep, rumbling sound vibrating through his chest against your palms. "Yes, dummy. You're the pretty girlfriend. We've been together for over a year."
A look of pure, unadulterated triumph washes over your face. You kick your feet up, burying your burning face right into the crook of his neck, muffled giggles spilling out against his skin. "I scored so hard," you mutter into his collar. "He's huge and he's mine."
"Yeah, yeah, you hit the lottery," Jason chuckled, his broad arms wrapping snugly around your waist, pulling you close so you wouldn't slide off. He kissed the top of your head, resting his chin on your hair. "Come on, baby. Let's get you some water and into bed before you try to ask me out again."
"Wait!" You pop your head back up, cheeks still bright red, poking his chest with a single finger. "So... does this mean you won't go on a date with me?"
Jason shook his head, a soft, fond smile softening his rugged features. "I'll take you on a date every single day of the week, sweetie. Now go to sleep."
summary: Jason had finally asked you out, he had planned everything, though one thing seems to get in between your date…
warnings: based off of this request, fluff, one shot, down bad!jason
The first time you agreed to go out with Jason on a date, he was beyond excited.
Jason planned everything meticulously. From the little restaurant he picked out, to the necklace he got you as a gift in his pocket. But the real star of the night would be his motorcycle. Yeah, maybe Dick’s words might’ve gotten to him, and maybe he was trying to impress you a little too hard with that bike.
All he could hear was Dick’s voice saying, “Chicks dig motorcycles, Jay.”
To which Jason cussed him out for saying, of course. But he’s honestly too desperate right now to not try and give it a shot.
You came out of your building just on time, all dolled up with your hair made and wearing your favourites dress.
He stopped dead in his tracks, admiring you in awe.
Oh god he really can’t fuck this up.
“Hey. You look- I mean you’re-” he breathed in. “You’re beautiful.”
You giggled and gave him a hug.
“Thanks Jay. And thanks for taking me out.”
“No problem.” He smiled at you. “Shall we get going?”
You nodded as he turned back, bending over to pick something up.
You let out a confused laugh when he handed you a red helmet.
“What’s this?”
He chuckled, “Don’t want anything happening to you, right?”
Jason gestures to the, what you now realised was a motorcycle, bike behind him. And your face dropped.
Not seeing your sudden disarray, he started rambling on about your guys plans, “And after the restaurant, we could maybe-”
“I can’t go on that.”
He immediately stopped talking.
“What?”
“I can’t go on that bike.”
He looked back at his motorcycle, and then at you- and back at his motorcycle.
“Oh… that’s fine. I mean- if you don’t wanna go on a date with me, I understand…I’m just gonna-”
“Woah.” You sounded taken aback, “When did I ever say that? I just meant I don’t like motorcycles, I don’t like getting on them.”
One of his hands came up to drag down his face as he let out the biggest exhale ever.
“I thought- you-”
You brought your hand up to your mouth, letting out a small chuckle.
God, he was a nervous wreck.
“Well,” he huffed, “I don’t really have a car…”
You both stood there a few seconds, lost in thought.
“Oh!” You jumped, “Isn’t Dick in town? Doesn’t he have a car?”
Oh no.
“I’ll call him!” You were already pulling your phone out, no use stopping you now.
The whole ride to the restaurant was horrible. Jason was dreading his existence every single second of that car ride.
“Did you know Jason had a stuffed animal he took everywhere as a kid?” Dick laughed as his hands gripped the steering wheel.
“No way! That’s so cute Jace!” You turned back to look at him, having sat in the passenger seat as Jason was shoved in the backseat.
He forced himself to let out a small smile at you before grumbling something under his breath. Probably a death threat for Dick.
“Yeah anyways how have you been?…”
The conversation blurred as you all arrived at your destination. Jason flew out of the car in an instant, opening the door for you before you could even think about doing it yourself.
“Bye Dick! Thanks for driving!” You yelled before Jason led you away from the car.
“Jason, did you buy… a car?” Bruce barged into the manor living room, computer in one hand and his other clicking away at a file.
Jason kept his gaze fixed on the book he was holding, turning a page. “Yeah, why?”
That caught the others attention, ears perking up as they suddenly went quiet and tried to (not so) subtly eavesdrop on their conversation.
“No reason, just… didn’t expect it from you.” He said firmly before walking back out the room.
Jason’s face twisted in confusion before he shrugged it off, going back to reading his book.
He suddenly felt the presence of Duke, Steph, and Tim on the couch, all containing the same smug smile on their faces.
Jason groaned, letting his book fall to his side. “What?”
“Nothing.” Steph said, “Just… your motorcycle wasn’t good enough for you?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
“Really Jason?” Duke cut in, trying to hold back a smile, “Don’t I remember you saying that you’d rather jump off a roof than give up your motorcycle?”
“Jumping off a roof would be the least dangerous thing I could’ve done at this point.”
“Oh really? It’s not that you got a car because of your girlfriend.” Tim finally cut in, his voice laced in taunt.
“Who. Told. You. That.” He snapped his head up at him.
“A little birdie told me your girlfriend doesn’t like motorcycles.” He snorted.
“She’s not my-” he groaned as he pushed Tim out of the way. “Whatever.”
“Where are you going?” Duke said.
“To kill Dick.”
Ty for reading! Reblogs and comments are very appreciated<3
a/n: kinda short sorry</3
Taglist: @starl1ghtgr4yson (if u wanna be added to the taglist, just ask ;)
Currently reading the first chapter of Project Hail Mary and Ryland is such a nerd. He calls his penis his gentlemen's equipment and his butthole the place where the sun doesn't shine. Like dude. GENTLEMEN'S EQUIPMENT???
summary: the four times Ryland’s students questioned his relationship with you, and the one time they got an answer
word count: 2.7k
warnings/tags: your students play matchmaker and love gossiping, ryland owns a car here, pureee fluff
The first time was what initially caught his students’ attention.
Teenagers, albeit being annoyingly nosy, were also incredibly perceptive. And unfortunately for Ryland, about ten heads snapped up in his direction as he emerged from your classroom five minutes before lunch was going to end.
He held the door open, his body halfway out the threshold, yet still thoroughly engrossed in whatever conversation he was having with you. Even from thirty feet away, his students could see as clear as day that he did not want to leave.
And then, you appeared at the door. You playfully shooed him out, lips turning upwards into a smile, making some witty comment that the kids were too far away to hear. He said something in response, eliciting a small laugh from you as you took yet another step closer, nearly toe to toe with him.
Now, even more kids had their full, undivided attention on you, closely monitoring your little interaction while their food went cold. To them, getting to witness their teachers’ love lives unfurl was infinitely better than eating a stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
The most peculiar thing was Ryland’s reaction to your close proximity. His students watched in amazement as their favorite clumsy, shy, nerdy science teacher who often tripped over his own two feet seemed entirely unaffected by the fact that you were a few inches away from his face. In fact, he might have leaned in.
Olivia rubbed her eyes and squinted, not even trying to disguise her blatant staring at this point. Before she could check again, Ryland was already speed walking back to his classroom, no doubt hustling to prepare the science lab he had planned for today before the flood of kids came back from lunch.
She turned back to her classmates, many of which were still watching his retreating figure. Others had their eyes trained on your classroom door, lost in thought.
She started the conversation everyone was itching to have. “So, we all saw that, right?”
A chorus of agreement echoed amongst the small crowd, quickly devolving into hushed gossip and frantic whispers.
“Is it just me, or did Mr. Grace have a little more pep in his step just now?”
“Oh totally— and he definitely didn’t want to leave her classroom.”
“What about her? Did you guys see the smile she gave him?”
“What about the smile he gave her?”
Before the debate could continue, the bell rang, forcing the chatty kids to trudge back to their classes in unanimous disappointment at their conversation getting interrupted. Unbeknownst to you or Ryland, this was only the first of many times this hot topic would be brought up amongst your prying students.
— - — - —
The second time was during a school assembly.
Students and faculty alike were gathered in the multi-purpose room, with the kids sitting to face the stage and the teachers lining the walls of the large room. The principal, an abysmally monotonous man, continued to drone on about rules, regulations, and upcoming events, much to everyone’s disappointment.
Your kids were supposed to be paying attention, but a large number of them had their heads twisted in awkward positions, trying to sneak a glimpse of you and Ryland.
The two of you were standing in the back with less than a foot of distance separating you. Periodically, Ryland would lean down to whisper in your ear, making you giggle at his words. In turn, you’d reach up on your tiptoes to whisper something in response, and he’d nod with a soft smile.
A few teachers nearby shot you looks of disapproval for being disruptive, and you mouthed a quick apology to your peers. Not thirty seconds later though, your head was inadvertently turning back to Ryland, and he did the exact same.
Despite being told off not a minute earlier, the two of you continued to talk in hushed voices, trying to be even more discreet than before. Honestly, you guys might’ve been worse than the children.
James, a particularly rowdy student in Ryland’s class, turned to Sarah, who could easily match Olivia’s smarts in your English class. Both of their watchful eyes never left the two of you at the back of the room. He murmured to her, “I get it’s cramped, but they definitely don’t need to be standing that close.”
“Agreed,” she muttered back.
Olivia wasn’t far, and decided to join in on the conversation. “Mr. Grace is totally blushing every time she reaches up to whisper in his ear.” She had no qualms about exposing her science teacher, which made James and Sarah unexpectedly laugh.
Before they could get out another word, the meanest, crankiest teacher to ever curse Grover Cleveland Middle School with her presence snapped her head towards them, shushing them ten times louder than they were speaking.
“If you three don’t stop talking, it’ll be detention for a week,” she snarled, beady eyes watching them like a hawk.
Regretfully, they clamped their mouths shut, but the three of them, along with everyone else that had been watching you and Ryland, were all thinking the same: you two seemed awfully close, both physically and socially.
— - — - —
The third time took place after school, during the murky month of December.
The San Francisco weather decided to attack the school with an onslaught of rain, making it almost impossible to walk in the open without getting assaulted by vicious pellets of water.
A cluster of students huddled inside the safety of the school building, waiting for their parents to roll up to the front of the campus so they wouldn’t get completely drenched on their way to the car.
Olivia, while looking through the window at the dismal conditions outside, noticed you standing under an overhang alone. You had your coat drawn tight around you, trying to keep the frigid air out and your body heat in, and your eyes periodically wandered to the screen of your phone, like you were waiting for someone. Perhaps someone was coming to pick you up?
Before she could continue that thought, a familiar teacher’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Hey kiddos,” Ryland waved to the small group as he approached. “Waiting for parents?”
He was met with a series of nods, making him crack a smile. “Alright, make sure you all get home safe, yeah?”
“Yes, Mr. Grace,” some students said in unison.
Ryland chuckled and continued towards the door, raising his hand as a silent goodbye. With his other hand, he carried an umbrella, well prepared for the harsh rain.
Most of her peers looked away as Ryland pushed the door open, but Olivia kept her eyes trained on her teacher. As soon as he stepped outside, he made a beeline for you, already starting to open the umbrella.
He must have called out your name, because you turned to greet him, perking up with a warm smile. An easy conversation flowed between the two of you as he made his way over, but the next part made Olivia’s jaw drop.
Like clockwork, the two of you set off towards the parking lot, sharing the umbrella without missing a beat of your conversation. Ryland’s larger frame made you seem small in comparison, and he was mindful to keep the umbrella lower and slightly more on your side, ensuring you were fully protected from the rain. His left shoulder, on the other hand, started to get slightly wet, but he seemed to pay no mind as he listened to you talk with a genuine smile.
“Guys. Guys!! Look!” was all Olivia managed to say before a horde of students rushed to the window, trying to get a better view of their favorite teachers recreating this classic romance trope.
“Move, I can’t see ‘em!”
“Hey you’re shoving me!”
Then, a collective hush fell over the group, and Olivia craned her head around her peers to get a glimpse at what they were staring at. A small gasp escaped her too.
It was difficult to see due to the far distance and the reduced visibility in the rain, but it was unmistakable. There was Ryland, covering you with the umbrella as you got into the passenger seat of a car. After closing the door behind you, the science teacher walked around the front of the car, got into the driver’s seat, and slowly reversed out of the parking spot.
He wasn’t just walking you to your car. He was driving you home.
The silence lasted a moment longer before the group erupted into excited chatter, each kid trying to talk over the other.
“What the hell was that??”
“He offered her a ride home, obviously! It’s raining hard, so he’s being a gentleman!”
“They seemed so comfortable with each other though, what’s that about?”
“What if they’re dating?”
That last question caught everyone’s attention. Sure, it had definitely crossed everyone’s minds, but most brushed it off. It seemed unfathomable. Could their beloved, klutz of a science teacher really pull someone as gorgeous as you?
“No no,” someone finally cut in. “Mr. Grace wouldn’t have the guts to ask her out in the first place.”
“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Maybe he’s just crushing on her!”
A chorus of awww’s resounded throughout the room, and the debate of your relationship status was momentarily settled.
— - — - —
The fourth time shattered all of their conspiracy theories of Mr. Grace merely pining over their English teacher, because it was clearly something more.
It was finally that time of the year— prom. Most kids stood in clusters with their friends, while other, braver souls worked up the nerve to ask their crush to dance. The low lighting provided a moody atmosphere despite the upbeat party music, and compliments were constantly getting thrown around over dresses, shoes, and hair-dos. A typical middle school dance.
Of course, all school events required supervision, so you and Ryland volunteered to chaperone this year. You guys were standing in the back of the room, looking like you were engaged in normal conversation. You in a modest black dress, Ryland in a simple dress shirt and tie.
What you didn’t know though, were the dozen or so pairs of eyes locked onto your figures from the opposite wall, hidden in shadow and whispering furiously.
“Dude, look at the way he stares at her!”
“He’s so in love.”
“Quit staring so hard, they’ll notice you.”
Meanwhile, you and Ryland were casually chatting away, completely oblivious to your students’ antics.
You sucked in a breath, a little hesitant to bring up something that’s been gnawing away at your mind for the past few months. Ryland, as always, immediately noticed. “What is it?” he asked.
“Oh, I dunno,” you sighed.
He gave you an expectant look, silently questioning if you really thought he wouldn’t notice something’s been bothering you. It was true— no one could read you as easily as Ryland.
“Fine fine,” you smiled, “it’s just… have you noticed our kids acting a little, um,”
“Weird?” he finished with a knowing look.
“Exactly. Recently, if we’ve been talking, I’ll turn away from our conversation and find a handful of students staring at me from across campus. It’s unsettling.” You shuddered just thinking about it.
“I get it,” Ryland agreed while surveying the area. His eyes met the small group of kids that had been staring at you guys, all of whom were now looking at the ceiling, the ground, each other— anywhere other than in your direction. It was painfully obvious. You shared a look with Ryland, both of you shaking your heads before bursting into laughter.
Suddenly, a slow song came on, and you turned to Ryland with a soft smile. He was quick to offer his hand, which you accepted with a mock curtsy. In your little corner, the two of you swayed to the soft melody, lost in your own little world. All that mattered in the moment was the feeling of each other’s arms and the warmth of your shared love.
As you let the rhythm wash over you, you turned to Ryland, voice barely above a whisper. “You think they’re watching?”
“Oh I know they’re watching,” he huffed.
You let out a small giggle, amused by how involved your students were in your relationship. Brushing off the thought, you decided to just let teenagers be teenagers, instead focusing your attention on the way Ryland’s strong hands held your own.
And your students on the other side of the room? They were going ballistic while watching you.
“So he really pulled her? They’re dating?!”
“This is insane.”
“Someone needs to document this.”
“Why are they so cute??”
— - — - —
The school year was finally coming to a close, and everyone agreed they simply couldn’t leave the case of you and Mr. Grace unsettled. After much deliberation amongst the class, they all came to the consensus that today was the day. They were going to get answers out of you guys, whether you liked it or not.
They went to great lengths to corner the two of you. Olivia planted a note in your class, trying her best to mimic Mr. Grace’s handwriting: Meet me in my class after school.
You didn’t think much of the forged note. Ryland often slipped you random things, so you folded it up and tucked the parchment away, packing up to head over to his class like you often did.
In Ryland’s classroom on the other hand, he was wrapping up a lecture on cell anatomy just as the final bell rang. He clapped once, starting to erase the whiteboard. “Alright kiddos, we’ll finish this up tomorro—”
As he turned around, he was more than a little stunned to see his entire class still seated, desks cleared and their full attention bouncing between him and the door.
“Oookay, what’s going on,” he said slowly, trying to follow their gaze. “Did I imagine the bell ringing, or..?”
And then, when you walked in, it all clicked for Ryland. He turned to his students, gaze sweeping over their smug smiles and looks of anticipation.
You gave a little knock to signal your entry, “Hey Ry, you wanted to see...” you trailed off, noticing about thirty kids staring at you when you entered. You slowly made your way to his side, watching the class with a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. “What’ve we got here?”
“This is a set up,” he sighed. Not a question, but an observation. He placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head, unsure of whether to smile or frown, so he opted for shaking his head in disbelief.
As the designated question asker, Olivia raised her hand, and Ryland nodded in confirmation for her to speak. “When did you start dating?”
They expected flustered denial, a poor cover up story, or for you guys to dodge the question completely. But to everyone’s shock, you and Ryland turned to each other simultaneously… and started laughing.
“Wh— What’s so funny?” James asked.
“Yeah, haven't you been trying to hide it this whole year?” another chimed in.
You waved your arms dismissively, shoulders still shaking with laughter. “Well, not exactly.”
Ryland just pinched the bridge of his nose, still in disbelief that his students thought you were dating.
“So, what’s your relationship then?” Olivia asked. Everyone leaned in, awaiting your response.
With a sly smile, you glanced at Ryland, then looked over the group of teens practically about to fall out of their seats in anticipation. “Well,” you started. “Let’s just say… I use my maiden name while teaching.”
Olivia let out a huge gasp, and the others whipped their heads toward her, clearly still confused.
“What?”
“Olivia, what’s that mean?”
Kids were clambering to get her attention, but Olivia just continued to stare at you in shock, and you just gave her a small nod of encouragement. Slowly, you reached to interlock hands with Ryland, and he squeezed your fingers with affection. He turned to give you a helpless smile, like he was silently apologizing for his students’ behavior. You just softly chuckled, choosing to lean your head on his shoulder instead.
“You— she—” Olivia could barely get the words out.
Her peers groaned in frustration, “what is it?!”
Then, you dropped the equivalent of an atomic bomb in the middle of the room— you raised your left hand, flashing a modest diamond ring adorning your finger.
Everyone was stunned, and Olivia confirmed what they were all struggling to believe.
“It means,” she said slowly, “Her last name is Grace.”
a/n: it might be kinda unrealistic for them not to notice your wedding bands but let’s just go along with it... as always, thanks for reading !!
Warnings: Some skin but nothing crazy // Part of the 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 smau series <3
Morph's thoughs: Guys please ignore the skin tone (and presumed gender) in the first picture, i tried my best to keep it as neutral as possible but this pic was too good to pass up and i couldn't find a similar one that gave the same vibe :(
Today I had to be at work at 6 am. When I arrived at my bus stop, this beautiful sunrise landing on the meadow delighted my eyes. Sometimes I really want to live a little longer.
He doesn't realise it at first. But when he does, he's so overcome with anxiety his leg will not stop bouncing in the cute diner booth you're sitting in. he's unfocused, overthinking about how you just crossed that road, staring intently into his milkshake. The milkshake which you've been sucking on to subtly try to get his attention.
How come he never realised? Wally thinks to himself as he finally picks up the straw. He saved you from a speeding car, missing you by half an inch; anyone else, and you'd have been hit. You didn't look, didn't care, only muttered an unfazed "Cheers, babe" and kept walking to the diner with that empty look in your eyes.
That was the first time he'd truly stopped in a while, reflected, but swiftly had to move because.. it was still a road. That you'd walked on in a green light, ever so carelessly. So he decided to reflect in the diner instead, while you gave him concerned glances up from your phone. This was normal sometimes, both of you having a quieter day, but this felt different, charged with tension.
"Hey, babe.. wanna take an Uber home?" Wally asked tentatively, a little concerned, and not wanting to risk a scare like earlier. He nervously swirls the two straws at the bottom of the glass, making small milk bubbles. You slowly tucked your phone away and paid attention. "How come? We usually walk, and it's a great night." After rifling for your card to pay the waitress, you both step out of the diner into the less suffocating central city air. It always reminded you of a mall, crisp and clean, hiding many secrets.
Wally's arm seemed tighter slung around your waist tonight, and you'd taken note of his unusually muted character in the diner, and even now as he booked an Uber - leaving the conversation short, since he'd got lost in his mind again and forgot to respond - tapping furiously fast on his phone as you stood there awkwardly.
Clearly, something was wrong, but what? Had you done something? Does he not like you anymore? Was the date too quiet?
All of this streamed through your mind as you stared into the traffic in front, not noticing the Uber had arrived until Wally gently tugged you inside with a small murmur. He sat in the back with you, arm still looped a little tight around you, which raised a couple of flags. Sure, he was clingy, but not this.. well, you weren't sure what was necessarily different, but he wasn't being clingy. This was something else, judging by his detached look out the window. Legs still fidgeting, bouncing and vibrating almost uncontrollably. You decided not to confront him yet, but silently placed a hand on his knee.
