#My god. I would do anything for someone if they handed me a nice mandarin orange

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Feeling Fruity

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Dummy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow 

Masterlist

Now you weren’t exactly dumb.

You were just a little slow.

When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.

“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.

“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.

“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.

“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.

“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.

“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.

“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”

There was that word again.

He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.

Stupid.

You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.

And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.

~

“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.

“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.

“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.

“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.

“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”

“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.

“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.

“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.

“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.

“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.

“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.” 

“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.

“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.

“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.

“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”

Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.

“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.

“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”

“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

~

Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.

“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.

“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.

“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.

“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”

You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.

“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”

Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.

“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.

“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.

“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.

~

You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.

“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.

“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”

“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.

“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”

“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”

“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”

Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.

“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…

“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.

“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”

You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.

“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.

You were dumb.

~

A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.

“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”

“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.

“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.

“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.

“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.

“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.

“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.

“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”

You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.

“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”

“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.

“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.

“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…

You were wrong.

“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”

You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.

“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.

“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.

“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.

“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.

It was never going to happen again.

~

“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.

“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.

“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”

Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.

“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”

The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.

“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.

“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.

“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.

“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.

“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”

Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.

“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”

“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.

“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”

“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.

“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.

“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.

“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.

“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”

“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.

“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.

“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”

That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.

“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”

~

You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.

“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”

Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.

“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”

The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.

“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.

“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.

“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.

“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.

“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”

“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.

“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”

It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.

“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.

“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.

“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.

“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.

“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.

“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”

He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.

“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.

“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.

“On the banana?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”

“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”

“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.

“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.

“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.

“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.

“Why do you say that?” You wondered.

“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.

~

The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.

“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”

“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”

“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”

Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.

“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.

“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?” 

 The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.

“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.

“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.

“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”

He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.

“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.

“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.

“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”

Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.

“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.

“This is empty.” You deadpanned.

“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.

“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.

“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”

“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”

“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.

“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”

“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”

Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”

It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.

Like he was someone you didn’t want around.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.

“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.

“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”

“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”

“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.

“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”

Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.

“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”

“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.

“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”

“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.

“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.

“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.

“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.

“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.

“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”

“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.

“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.

“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @damnyoudameron @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23  @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @silteplaittais-toi @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @ohnothezombies @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @buckybigbutt @cookiemonstermusic258 @awesomebooklover17

[glitxhwayventeen]

The Lost One

Junhui

Characters: Junhui x female reader

Warnings: Mention’s of panic attacks, mentions of self-loathing, seemingly unrequited love, foreign struggles (Yes that’s a warning because it sucks being a foreigner and causes some shit), I think that’s it for this chapter but let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: Sorry It’s even so long since I last updated! I didn’t forget i swear I’ve just been super sick and so has my daily and all my energy went into trying to keep my school work up to day instead of writing. I’m sending this update out today instead of Josh’s Heart Like Yours chapter because this one was halfway done and the easiest to sen out/finish.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

🥀

Paved With Good Intentions Masterlist

The Lost One: Part 2

Bold- Korean Dialogue Italics- Thoughts Red- Mandarin Dialogue

Tag list- @babyminghao

You couldn’t believe yourself. You really were the fuckup your parents thought you were. How could you be this stupid? How could you not figure it out? It wasn’t like you were doing rocket science or something. You were just trying to read a god damn map. And you were failing miserably at it.

If you could even really call the piece of shit piece of paper the administrations office gave you that. It basically just told you were all the fire exits were. As if you would be able to use it for that. You didn’t even know the proper way of getting in to the building so you didn’t see yourself getting caught in a fire there anytime soon.

You were just trying to make it to your new dorm. That’s all. But the “map” was written fully in Korean and quite frankly you weren’t fluent enough yet to be able to understand the long ass words it was throwing at you with it’s labeling.

The university that had accepted you had the option to live off campus with other students, kind of like an off campus dorm room program. Accept in order to get to your new apartment, you had to find your roommate first and meet her to get your key. But you couldn’t seem to find where they said you had to meet her.

That’s how you found yourself having a mental breakdown in the middle of a campus square after having had tried to ask several Korean natives for directions. Clearly your attempts to ask for directions had failed due to your very very basic Korean language skills. Needless to say, you were pretty over the whole “moving to a new foreign country excitement’ phase and moving into the whole “oh my god what have I done I’m all alone in a foreign land” stage.

You threw your hands to your face and groaned out a few profanities in Mandarin out of habit, map closely grazing your cheek as you blinked back hot tears threatening to spill from your waterlines.

“Need some help?”

You looked up from your newly chapped hands to see a boy only about an inch taller than you kindly smiling at you. And he was speaking to you in Mandarin. Oh thank god!

“Yes yes oh my god please!” You let excitedly tumble out of your clumsy mouth all in one breath, causing the strange boy to laugh at your antics.

He reached his hand out to formally introduce himself, “I’m Minghao but most of my friends are Korean and tend to fuck up the pronunciation so, everyone here calls me Hao. I’m from Anshan.” He firmly gripped your hand, though not enough to hurt you, and reeled himself back in to await your reply.

“I’m _____. ____ _____. I’m from Shenzen. It’s nice to actually meet someone here who I can properly communicate with!” You said with a sigh of relief lacing your tone.

He nodded his head, almost amused, “First day huh?”

You chuckled, gripping his book bag that was hanging on one of his shoulders with one hand and throwing the other one in his pocket.

“Is it that obvious?” You shyly whined.

Minghao laughed again, “Let’s just say I’ve been there before. I only came over from Anshan a few years back myself. So the memories are… still pretty prominent to say the least,” He shrugged his shoulders a bit before readjusting himself in his shoes, “Now what are you trying to find lost girl _____?”

“Well I need to find new roommate in this place so i can get my keys. The administrations office told me to meet her in the johwa building- I think?” You replied, very unsure of if you had even pronounced the word correctly while gesturing your little map more towards him.

He clicked his tongue and leaned in to see the piece of paper, “Aw, I see. Well I don’t live on campus I live with my br-” He seemed to stop mid sentence to collect himself for some reason, but recovered quickly, “Friends. With my friends. But I know Korean for the most part so I’m sure I can help.”

He examined the daunting parchment before he finally looked as if he had some sort of an answer, “Ah yes. Well see this part- here?…” He asked dutifully as he pointed to a rectangular sized squiggle on your map.

“I think that’s where you need to go. I can walk you there if you want. It’s pretty close to my next class.” He offered politely.

You sighed in gratitude, “Yes I would like that. Thank you so much you’re such a life saver!”

-

As you and Minghao started to walk to the meeting point, you realize two things: 1. Was that your Korean wasn’t nearly as good as your new friend’s was and 2. Was that he seemed to be actually quite popular on campus.

Every person you passed seemed to know of or acknowledge his existence, which was incredibly weird to you because you were never someone who had that affect on people.

The constant Hey’s and Hi’s toward the boy weirded you out and just made you feel even more like an outcast than you already were. You thought maybe you had actually found a friend who got you and your struggles as a foreigner, but he seemed to fit in better than most of the Korean students around did. So much for that idea.

Though you did began to wonder if you would ever fit in like him. Probably not considering back in China people still thought you were the weirdest freak that ever walked on the face of the Earth.

But still, you figured you could dream. If you didn’t fantasize about it, you’d just end up wallowing in your own misery and having panic attack after panic attack over it.

It had happened before, half the time you weren’t even sure why. Sometimes it was for a legitimate reason like almost getting hit by a car crossing a cross walk. Other times, they would come on out of literally no where and you’d have to excuse yourself to the closest restroom to try and ride it out alone.

But as much as you disliked a lot of people, you really didn’t like the idea of being alone with just you and your thoughts forever. It was a scary idea.

So you found yourself hoping to be like Minghao as you drug on next to him; confident, foreign and proud. You found those qualities admirable in a person.

You just hoped your new roommate found you to be similar to him, or at least not as strange as you truly were, so that you could cohabit in peace.

“Well this is it!” He declared triumphantly as he flashed his hands in front of the building you were supposed to be meeting your new roommate in.

Then it dawned on you: You were meeting an absolute stranger and were going to be roommates with her. You immediately froze in place. You were completely petrified.

That small detail must have been very evident to the boy standing next to you. Because the next thing out of his mouth was, “You want me to go in with you? You know, to be sure she’s not some crazy axe murderer or something?”

Even though you had only just met him, you still knew more about him than some new stranger, so your inner fight or flight instinct kicked in and had you agreeing to him before he could even really finish his sentence properly, “Y-yes yes please. Thank you!”

He just chuckled softly at your nervous antics and linked arms with you, quickly dragging you into the lions den past the double glass doors.

-

The walk past the double doors seemed to slow time down. Your heart started to race, something you figured would come eventually once the reality of the situation hit you.

Except this time, your lungs didn’t feel as though they couldn’t inflate. This time your hands didn’t begin to shake and your knees didn’t begin to quiver. This time you felt like you were standing on top of the world. It was different and you couldn’t pin point why.

Part of you just thought that maybe a bit of Minghao’s vibrant personality had already rubbed off on you. But the realist in you knew that wasn’t the case, you weren’t that lucky.

As stupid as it sounded, it felt like your life had been preparing you for what was to come since you had been born. You just weren’t sure what it really was considering you knew for a fact that the feeling made no sense as you were just going to get your room key.

You had finally managed to find the slender girl you were supposed to be meeting up with by her newly blue hair the admissions people said she’d have. She seemed nice enough as when you first laid eyes on her she was laughing and giggling at something a very gigantic boy in front of her was saying. She was pretty, tall and had a smile that all but radiated off the walls.

But focusing on her proved to be a difficult task for you once she squeeled something out loud while rushing over to you both and the boy she was speaking with turned around with his hands in his pocket and his shoulders down.

“Oh my gosh Hao! What are you doing here?” She chirped in what you knew to be Korean, a smile still bright on her cheery face while the boy she was with followed her around like a lost puppy and stared at his shoes and shoes alone.

Minghao shushed the poor girl to calm her excitement, “Better question Jee, what are you doing here?”

“I told you dork,” She snorted at his very unenthusiastic response, “I’m meeting my new roommate the school set me up with.”

Minghao didn’t usually listen much to what anyone from the pack said, he preferred to just tune them out most of the time because sometimes they could be a bit much.

But he did vaguely recall a conversation he had with both Jeonghan and his mate earlier about needing to find a volunteer to go with her to school.

The elder was always very protective of the women he knew anyways, so when Jee came along, Jeonghan seemed to get that much worse and insisted she have a guard (or guard dog really) with her at all times to make sure she was safe.

Since Jeonghan had a bunch of homework to make up for from when he was going through rut and missed a bunch of classes, he couldn’t go with Jee to meet her new roommate like he normally would’ve liked.

He was worried for her, something Minghao could understand to a degree. Jee was just only a human after all and wasn’t very athletic. She could very easily be put in danger or get herself caught up in something bad very quickly.

So Jeonghan tried to rally one of his brothers to do it. And since most were either too busy or struggling with schoolwork and needing to do it themselves, Jun ended up being the one who was elected to take her. Something he clearly wasn’t too thrilled about given his sunken appearance.

And just like that, the lines seemed to connect in his small boy brain, “Oh shit wait! You’re who _____’s gonna be rooming with?” He mentally facepalmed himself for forgetting.

“Maybe. The girl I’m supposed to meet’s named _____, but I’ve just been told it’s a rather common girl name in China and we have a boat load of new foreign exchange students. Who’s your _____?” The girl, Jee apparently, questioned the boy you had just met at what seemed like a million miles an hour.

You realized your bare minimum Korean was even worse than you had originally thought after hearing the two speaking. You could only pick out your name and the word China out of all of Jee’s sentences.

“T-that would be me. H-hi,” You guessed as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, no doubt looking visibly uncomfortable at the whole situation.

Jee gave Minghao a… very different, almost knowing look before he shook his head.

They secretly and wordlessly had exchanged the “did you just imprint on her” question with each other without you knowing as per their pack’s now near usual customary greeting when meeting each other.

“No Jee, it’s not like that. _____ was struggling to find her way around campus and I helped her. She’s Chinese too and isn’t as used to Korean yet.” He clarified quickly, even though he knew there was a pretty good chance you had absolutely no idea what they were conversing about.

After another beat of silence with both Jee and Minghao looking at you seemingly wanting you to speak, Hao decided for himself to break the cold ice the two of you had unknowingly created, “_____, this is Jee. She’s my b-” He stopped himself, an action you found rather odd, and cleared his throat to speak again, “My friend’s girlfriend. And the tall awkward lanky doll behind her is our other friend Junhui.”

He made gestures to the both of them, “And guys, this,” He gestured to you with his hands causing the lengthy boy behind Jee to pop his head up from staring at the ground to bore deep into your eyes, “Is _____.” You guessed (or more accurately used words you already knew to deduce what was going on in the conversation) your new friend said in Korean.

“Jun, _____’s from Shenzen too-” Hao tried to explain to the tall boy before you chimed in.

“Hey i know that word!” You nearly squawked at the sheer happiness of being able to find a word you knew being said in conversation.

And that surprising outburst that caused his brother to laugh is what caused Junhui to finally look up from his feet and toward you.

Once his eyeline finally caught up with you, you were able to actually take in how truly breathtaking the boy in front of you really was.

He had a cute little button nose, one that just made you want to stand on your very tippy toes and boop for no reason other than because you could.

His messy hair had you wishing you could run your hand along it to see if it was actually as soft as it looked floating through the air.

His smile had an underlining mischievous crack in it that you found heartwarming and his twinkling eyed made you want to never stop staring at the stars that seemed to be captured in them.

Everything about him screamed perfect to you. But instead of making fun of you like Hao once he noticed your little happy declaration, and just when you brought your hand up to shake his hand after you had shaken Jee’s with blushed cheeks, he just… turned and walked away in the opposite direction from which you came.

Which not only left standing their incredibly confused, but a little heartbroken too.

(Updated 11/29/22)

[ao3screenshotss]

as someone who also grew up with multiple languages (our coinciding ones being english, chinese, and cantonese) I RELATE TO YOU LMAO. Like speaking cantonese is okay but i have no idea how to write. I know traditional chinese and I know the writing system for cantonese, at least in Hong Kong, relies on traditional but god I can't write more than a few handful of letters

NO CAUSE THE WAY I DIDNT EVEN KNOW CANTONESE WAS WRITTEN IN TRADITIONAL

MY JAPANESE TEACHER TOLD ME

JAPANESE??????? SHE DOESNT EVEN SPEAK MANDARIN OR CANTONESE 😭😭

LIKE OKAY I GET IT CAUSE THE KANJI BUT STILL

and don't worry anon you're doing better than me the only thing i can write in traditional are the ones that are the same in simplified 💀

OH LEMME TELL YOU THIS STORY

editing this cause i forgot to add context:

mandarin and cantonese are both types of chinese (they’re not dialects they’re branches but they have their own dialects) but nowadays when people say they’re learning chinese they tend to mean mandarin. i can only speak cantonese and can read, write and speak a bit of mandarin but canto speakers generally don’t understand mando speakers and vice versa unless they’ve learnt both languages

there’s traditional chinese and simplified chinese. in hong kong and guang dong (i think?) they speak cantonese which is written in traditional chinese. the rest of china (beijing etc. but NOT shanghai they speak shanghainese there might be some other places too for example hakka i think is spoken in the south) speaks mandarin which is written in simplified chinese

if you’d like to know more feel free to ask me but for now here’s the story!!!

i went to chinese school for 8 years right i quit a while back cause going back was too bad for my mental health (i would go anywhere like midnight in city and not be scared cause id think wow if i'm gone at least i don't have to continue chinese school)

so when i was there i was literally the WORST student i couldn't participate in class i failed all the tests and i never did the homework (i only slightly passed cause i cheated im sorry mum)

one day we had to do 作文 (essay writing) for homework and this was like grade 5 or something we just started doing them and i couldn't do them and felt so so guilty cause my teacher was so nice and could speak canto too so she spoke to me in that cause she knew i couldn't speak mando for shit

that week's homework was the first time we had to write an actual essay instead of the paragraphs we had to write the weeks before and the topic was like '我的家人' (my family) or something it was really easy so i was like hey!! i'll do the homework this week i like my teacher and this is a topic i can do so i'll try!!

so i tried

and i failed

half way through my knowledge failed me and i was stuck with '我的妈妈很喜欢画儿和' (my mum likes drawing and…) and i wanted to write gardening but i couldn't work it out and was like it's okay!!! i'll just google translate it!!

so i got out my trusty old laptop (its not trusty now it's just old) and google translated 'gardening'

'園藝' okay i don't know what that means or how to read it but it looks good enough so i'll just write it

and from that moment on, the second i used google translate i was screwed cause now that i had used it once i could use it for anything and everything

emphasis on the EVERYTHING cause now i had absolutely NO idea how to write the rest of my essay

so i was like 'hmmm you know what i'll do? i'll write it in english and then google translate it and copy it down! i'm a genius!!'

so i went and wrote my whole essay on a word doc and copy and pasted it into google translate

and i wrote down the translation word for word

and then i was finished!! i went in next week with my completed essay and finally got to hand it in to my teacher and i was so so proud of myself

i got my essay back at the end of the day and the only thing she wrote in that red pen was

'tina this is traditional chinese'

anyways i never handed in my homework again

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

So I decided to try my hand at the “Marinette, the princess of China” trope and see how I did! Tell me what you think?

Also, the first chapter is going to be fluffy, the second chapter’ll have a sprinkling of salt, and the third chapter will be a mix of piles and piles of salt and some fluff. Be warned!

.

“I’ve got a big, big, big announcement for you today, class!“ Bustier chirped, clapping her hands to get their attention. “China’s princess will be coronated in a week and a half, the day she turns 18, as many of you know, and one class from the school will be selected to travel to China and watch the ceremony. Guess which class it was?“

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

“Ooh, M. D’Argencourt’s? They’ve wanted that trip for weeks!“

“No, class, it’s ours! In three days, we’ll board the plane to Asia and have a few days to sightsee and explore, then attend the coronation on the second-to-last day!“

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

Marinette knew exactly why. Marc had told her that the entire school was sick of Lila’s lies and wanted to enjoy the coronation without her butting in in the middle of the assembly to tell a ‘story’ about herself.

But she couldn’t just say that.

“You know, I actually know the princess,“ Lila said, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “But her identity is being kept a secret for now. That’s how we landed the trip!“

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

“They know that’s stupid, right?“ Alya stage-whispered, earning a glare from Lila’s new puppy–more commonly known as Kim. She shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ the truth!“

Alya, who was now her only other supporter next to Nino (and technically Adrien, but she’d discuss that later–it was very complicated), had decided to Google Lila’s name during a sleepover and found…some rather incriminating Facebook posts.

After that, she was 100% team Marinette and an amazing friend, along with Nino, who had decided that he needed a theme song. No one knew why.

But they loved him anyways!

So while Bustier was rattling off facts about Chinese emperors and kings and queens, Nino was showing them his latest idea to expose Lila.

“Okay,“ he started. “First, we go to China. Then we do our sightseeing and shit, and then. I did some research, and we can ask the princess questions if we’re with a national news channel. Alya’s blog counts. For real, we can talk to the princess of China. And we ask her if she knows Lila.“

“Brilliant plan, Nino. I wonder how the princess will react to a few teenagers in the middle of a crowd of famous people.“

Nino frowned. “The princess is only, like, 17. She’ll probably notice us, Als.”

“Oh, that reminds me, your birthday’s on the same day as the coronation, Marinette! Weird, isn’t it? That you and the princess have the same birthday?“ Alya asked, pulling out her phone and swiping through something.

“Huh, yeah. You’re right. Maybe we can invite her to my birthday party?“

“Ooh, the wiki page says she likes custard buns, and I’m not sure how they know that,“ Nino chuckled. “but make sure to stock up on those.“

“Noted,“ Marinette said drily as Bustier turned to them with a condemning look on her face. “Alya! I hope what you’re doing on that phone relates to the lesson!“

“China’s princess’s identity is being kept a secret because the last two were sent death threats, dangerous items, highly innapropriate items, and several other things that prompted them to not reveal the princess until it was necessary.“

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

“Nice!“ Marinette mouthed, high-fiving Alya, who flipped her phone around to reveal a website about the princess.

                                                           -🌸-

The final bell rang as several of the students cheered. One school day until the trip over, three more to go. Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and bumped Marinette’s elbow. “We goin’ to your place to hang out?”

“Yeah, my dad’s out anyways and mom closed the bakery for the afternoon. let’s go!“ Alya took Nino’s hand and walked the short distance to Marinette’s house. They entered and immediately felt something off.

Ah, there it was.

Sabine was leaning over the counter with a cup of very strong-smelling peppermint tea beside her. She was rubbing her temples and muttering to herself in rapid Mandarin.

“Maman? Are you alright?“ Marinette asked worriedly. Alya and Nino stood by the door–they had only seen her like this once before, when her cousin had been run over and killed.

“Yes, dear, everything’s okay, it’s just–there’s something I need to tell you.“

“Oh, no, did something happen to someone?“

“No, no, everyone’s just fine. I can’t not tell you without there being serious problems.“

“So what is it? What’s so important you had to close the bakery?“

“You’re the princess. China’s princess. The one nobody knows about.“

“I’m what?!“ Marinette screeched, grabbing at her hair. “I’m the heir to the throne of the most populated country in the world, and you waited until a week before the coronation to tell me?!“

“Holy shit.“ Alya and Nino said simultaneously. Sabine stared at them, likely just realizing they were there.

“Oh. They know now, too. Perfect, that’s just what we need, a reporter knowing who–“

“Maman! Alya wouldn’t tell a soul, I know she wouldn’t.“

Sabine turned to Alya. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m just stressed. With that trip to China in a few days and all that, we’ll have to close down the bakery for about a week.”

“And we never close down the bakery.“ Marinette finished, putting a steady hand on her mom’s shoulder. “But I know just the person to run it while we’re gone.“

As she was about to say who exactly would run the bakery, Nino backed into the door, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My best friend…holy shit.“

“Nino, I know this is a lot, but we’ll have to stay calm,“ Alya said, grabbing his hand. “So we don’t spill her secret. That’s top priority, all right? Don’t–tell–anyone.“

Nino sighed. “Sorry, babe. This…“ he turned to Marinette. “Do you have any cookies?“

Marinette grinned and led them into the kitchen. “Of course! Chocolate chunk or raspberry frosted?“

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

After a quick cookie interval, Marinette pushed her plate away and sighed. “Anyone up for an impromptu sleepover? You all left a bunch of your clothes here the last few times.”

“Marinette. If you know us, you will know our answers.“ Alya said solemnly.

“Hell yeah. Wanna go choose which terrible rom-com to watch this time?“

They ended up settling on The Kissing Booth, one of Marinette’s personal favorites (”To lighten the tension, you know?” Alya had said. “Although the tension in here probably weighs the same as an obese hippopotamus at this point.”) and made a bowl of caramel popcorn, with a tiny bag of sea-salt Skinny Pop for Nino.

“Sugar on popcorn is a crime, man. I ain’t touching that.“

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

“Yes, and I hated it. Is there anything else to be said?“

So they spent the next two hours in a blanket fort that was made almost entirely of throw pillows laughing over Elle and Noah and Lee being idiots, with a few highlights such as the iconic “Ninth grade skirt, eleventh grade body” scene, where Alya snorted and said “You know, Lila’s skipped so much school, might as well be ninth grade brain, eleventh grade work.”

“Too true,“ Nino agreed. “The other day, she called Chloe’s mom Aurora Bourgeois. That was a pretty major mess-up.”

“Shhh! Let’s just watch the movie!“ Marinette said, effectively quieting them down.

They watched the rest in silence with the usual laughs., ending up falling asleep halfway through the second movie, snuggled up on their respective couches. Marinette mother shook them awake the next morning, telling them to take showers and eat breakfast and get dressed and for god’s sake, Marinette, finish your homework.

“Crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! Nino, we’re going to be late if we don’t get ready fast!“ Alya shouted as Marinette ran up the stairs to change. “Can I use your shower, M?“

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

After about 10 minutes of running around and shoving waffles in their mouths, they grabbed their bags and ran off to school.

They burst through the door in the nick of time, the bell ringing just as they plunked down their things.

Bustier wasn’t there five minutes into the class, so they started talking.

“Marinette, you have to listen to Nino’s latest track, it’s–“ Just as she was about to describe Nino’s latest track, a bouncy-ball the size of a walrus snashed through the wall, nearly taking off Kim’s head.

There was a cackle from outside. “I am Gradack! You will all feel the same sorrow that I did!“

                                                          -🌸-

The fight was over relatively fast, and everything was calmed down and restored before their next class. Turns out Chat Noir didn’t show, so Marinette had to ask Alya for assistance.

In hindsight, she probably should have picked a better place to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!“ After she transformed, she was about to go to Fu to get one of the Miraculous, when she heard a strangled gasp.

“…shit.“

“My best friend is the princess of goddamn China and Ladybug? What the fuck?! Who are you? How did I not know? When did–“

“Alya, I know the feeling, but you can’t tell anyone. Got it?“

“Nino?“

“Well,“ Marinette paused to think. “Yeah, I guess. I trust him enough. Now, take this and transform!“ she tossed Alya the hexagonal box, and after a quick transformation, they ran off to defeat the saddened graduate of an akuma.

As she said, it was an easy fight.

They comforted the victim with four minutes (each) to spare, then ran back to the locker rooms to transform back.

                                                   Time Skip!

It was the morning of the flight to China, and she was ecstatic. Of course, she had to get up at 3:45 in the morning, but it was worth it–the flight took off at six in the morning, of course.

She could see the logic of wanting to arrive at 12:00, but she would’ve much preferred a red-eye.

Then she wouldn’t have had to stay up all night reading, because no way in hell would she just wake up at 3:45 in the morning.

The alarm would’ve had to go off for hours.

But back to the morning, she poured herself a sasquatch-sized mug of coffee, with about a gallon of cream and enough sugar to put an entire city of diabetics into shock, she started getting dressed.

Trudging around and haphazardly pulling out shirts, she finally decided on a simple red-and-orange flannel, a white t-shirt, and a pair of cropped jeans.

The she downed the rest of her coffee with an apathetic “Bottoms up!” and slapped her cheeks.

She grapped her suitcase and walked outside to where her mother was typing away on a laptop in the pitch-black night.

“Mom, why are you up?“

“Because I have to drive you to the airport, that’s why. And no alarm would be able to wake me up at 3 in the morning.“

“Preach. I’m ready to go, so can we get in the car now?“

After driving to the airport and saying goodbye to her mom, she walked into the airport and immediately saw the group of sleepy teens (and a certain disheveled teacher) leaning on their suitcases, trying not to fall asleep.

Nino and Marinette were already there, their eyelids drooping. The only person who looked properly awake was Sabrina, who was–inevitably–holding a saucer out to Chloé, who was sipping from a teacup.

Alya rolled her eyes and walked over to Marinette and Nino. “Who’re we missing?”

“Kim and Rose. They’re carpooling, so they should be here any minute.“

Just as Marinette had said, a few seconds later, Rose and Kim walked into the airport. Kim was still wearing pajama pants.

                                           Another Time Skip!

“Marinette.“ Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette, wake up, we’re here.“

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open. “No. Five more minutes.”

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

“Shit. Let’s go!“ Marinette said, jumping up, grabbing her purse (which she had recently learned concealed a kwami) and scrambling out the door.

Alya picked up the mini-backpack she now carried (which held Trixx, cookies, and some grape jelly) and followed her out the door.

Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, they heard a loud wail.

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

“I just can’t believe she would steal that, Lila! It’s so unlike her!“

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

“Oh, great, what did we do this time?“ Alya asked exasperatedly. They watched as Lila held out the remains of–from what they could see from a meter away–a sketch of an orange mermaid gown with a black lace collar, ripped into quarters and laid out on the ground.

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

A small tear made its way down Marinette’s face. “It was going to be for you,” she said softly.

Alya threw her arms around Marinette and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. Once you’re princess, we’ll sue her for all she’s worth.”

Marinette detached herself from Alya and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Alya.”

                                                         -🌸-

Nino stormed up to where Alya and Marinette were standing with a furious expression on his face.

“That fox,“ he seethed. “that bitchy little fox of a liar stole your drawing.“

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

“Are you okay? I know how important they are to you.“

“I’m fine, Nino, and o–who the hell are you?“ A man in an oddly formal suit was standing next to her, holding out a small red envelope.

Marinette plucked the envelope from his fingers, opened it, and read the contents. She looked up and nodded at the suit-wearing guy.

“Good. In that case, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to need you to come with me.“ Alya and Nino immediately stepped in front of her in a protective shield.

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

The strange man looked surprisingly amused. “Not at all–but you might want to come with us, too. You as well, headphone-boy.”

Nino put a hand on his chest and gasped in offense.

“Nino. He’s going to drive us to the palace. You’re coming, too, ya doof!“ Nino made a noise of realization and followed them out to where a black limousine was waiting.

They climbed in and drove off.

About five minutes into the drive, he moved his foot to the side, accidentally kicking a black box.

Just as he was preparing his final goodbyes, it sprung open, and inside was a junk food lover’s heaven.

“Dude.“

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Kazama Final Sakura Epilogue

sometimes i think that i should go learn Japanese.... then I think of how much a hard time I already have with Chinese (im still improving though it has mostly only been with reading since i don’t exactly feel like orally practising Cantonese or Mandarin right now... or feel like actually talking to someone in those languages [the exception is for people who call my cell to try and sell stuff. i almost always answer in Cantonese and pretend to have no idea about what is being said since no one phones me through my cell]. however, it is true that I don’t remember what most of the words i’ve been reading sound like -.- ugh).... and how much content I already have in Chinese before I’ll actually need to know more Japanese before I run out of stuff to consume lol.

anyway. this translation is of the Kazama 『 恋染めし日』 content... didn’t “label” this with “Chikage” since this story occurs while Chizuru and Kazama are in Edo and Chizuru still calls him Kazama in this. 

images used are from my clips again. also warning: part of this is stupid. 

only one more of what i’ve been able to translate for these!

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Kazama Final Sakura Epilogue

Translation by KumoriYami

As the wind swayed the treetops, we stopped talking.

We unknowingly had been talking for a long while.

In order to rest my throat, I took in a deep breath of cool air.

The smell of sakura stimulated my sense of smell, and I couldn't help relaxing my expression.

Chizuru: Fu......

Kazama:......My wife, what's wrong? Is talking really so tiring/Are you tired of speaking?

Chizuru: No, it's not like that. I was just thinking that the sakura smell nice.

Turning my head/I turned to the side as I spoke, and saw Kazama-san narrowing his eyes as he looked up towards the sakura.

——He was one of the "oni" who had repeatedly fought/fought several times against the Shinsengumi.

Now that I think about it, there were truly many unbelievable things in the world, such as being able to look at sakura with this person. 

Kazama: Fu...... what's wrong? To passionately be staring at me, could it be that you've fallen for me?

Chizuru: It-It's not that/That, That's not it! Really...... Why do you always perceive things in such a way that's favourable to you/benefits you [reword later]?

Although I've been living with Kazama-san for some time, I still don't understand much about this man/there was still much I didn't understand about him..

With a sigh, I asked the question that I had been thinking about for a while.

Chizuru: Speaking of which, Kazama-san, you often speaks of your hometown. In Kazama-san's hometown, do the sakura bloom also like this?

Kazama: Of course. The sakura in my hometown are not inferior in any way to those in Kyoto or Edo. You can look forward to the day you see them. 

Somehow, that made me feel relieved.

If I really do end up going to Kazama-san's hometown with him...... Regardless of where I go/where it is, the beauty of sakura must remain/will surely remain unchanged.

Because whenever/every time I see sakura, I think of everyone from the Shinsengumi——

Chizuru:......

Shinsengumi.

Their name felt heavy in my chest, and I couldn't say anything for a while as I was entranced by the sakura.

Suddenly Kazama-san began to speak.

Kazama:——I don't like this.

Chizuru: Eh?

Kazama: I said I don't like this. You've been gazing at the sakura for a while now, and haven't even looked at me.

Chizuru: Even if you say that...... Isn't it normal to be fascinated by/admire such beautiful/wonderful/stunning sakura?

Kazama: Fascinating/Admiring them, is it/you say? Sakura..... I will not forgive you for stealing away my wife's attention.

Chizuru: Ha......!?

I thought he was saying something unruly again, but Kazama-san seemed to be trying to cover my eyes/block my line of sight as he moved closer to me.

To have suddenly been pulled so close, I couldn't help but panic/feel confused.

Chizuru: Wh-What are you saying! To go as far as to not forgive a sakura tree......

Kazama: It is doesn't matter if it's a plant, an animal, or a god. There should be nothing that snatches away my wife’s attention other than myself. 

To actually be jealous of a sakura tree......?

As I wondered if he was actually jealous of the sakura, Kazama-san's expression however was very serious.

Staring into his red eyes which looked even redder than the sakura, I (involuntarily?) stammered.

Chizuru: Um, could it be...... that I've upset you?

Kazama: Of course/Naturally. If you still feel slightly remorseful......

Kazama-san grinned and slowly approached me.

Eventually, he was where were if I were to tilt my head, I would be touching his chest, and I couldn't help but hold my breath [reword later?].

Kazama: Then, demonstrate your apology through your actions, my wife, Chizuru.

Chizuru: Ac-Action meaning......

Kazama:......

Kazama-san once again looked straight at me.

Urged by his gaze, I gave up and sighed.

Yes, I only had this person now/had no one else aside from him.

I was very clear on that.

I was told to demonstrate with my actions and I knew what to do. 

I understood that I could only fly into this person's arms/embrace.

However, a lot of things came to mind when the sakura season arrived.

It was impossible to completely forget them——

Chizuru:......Eh?

——I was pulled into Kazama-san's embrace.

His broad hand was touching the back of my head, while I was held within/encircled by his arms.

Then, his voice cam from above.

Kaazama: For saying something so boring [stupid], I'm sorry.

He caressed my hair, and embraced me tightly [reword later?].

Chizuru: No...... I should be the one to apologize.

This time, I took the imitative to bury my face into Kazama-san's chest.

Kazama:......

The sakura petals were like rain as they floated in the air, then slid down our shoulders.

At first I had been hugged by Kazama-san, but now it seemed that I was the one taking the initiative to snuggle against him.

I couldn't help but feel embarrassed, and my heart couldn't help but feel restless.

......After, Kazama-san then whispered into my ear.

Kazama:......I won't tell you forget everything.

Chizuru: Eh?

Kazama: Your memories of them...... I will shoulder them with you.

Chizuru:......Nn.

As I buried my face into Kazama-san's chest, I couldn't help but nod repeatedly.

After, I reluctantly left his embrace......

I was somewhat embarrassed as I looked at his face.

Kazama-san's expression had changed into a happy smile.

Kazama:......Well, I am however broad-minded/forgiving [thesaurus later]. I'll forgive you for what happened just now. Fufufu...... But, for the one who normally resists to actually take the initiative in seeking me out [reword later]......

Chizuru: It, it's not that/wasn't like that! 

Seeing Kazama-san's triumphant smile, I――

choice:

Continued chatting Brought this to an end <-

It was very difficult to look directly at Kazama-san's face, and I turned to start walking in the opposite direction.

Kazama: Well, it's fine. Should we continue this when we get home?

Chizuru: I'm telling you, no......!

As Kazama-san walked alongside/beside me, he was smiling as he held my hand.

Really, exactly what was he so happy about.......

Seeing Kazama-san’s smile, I stepped forward.

Apparently, it will take a long time for me to fully understand this person.

-end-

[lovelyirony]

oh my GOD mechanicfam is god tier just may i present an au where tony adopts harley after his mom and sister die in a car crash (post-mandarin) and so tony's the only person harley knows to go to and harley's the thing that makes rhodey and tony get their HEADS out of their ASSES

Harley keeps the business card that was left on the workshop of his house. He kept it in a kitchen drawer that his mom never used, because it full of the “nice” dish towels that were only taken out come Christmastime. 

His fingers shake as he grips the phone, punching in the numbers. 

“Can I ask who’s calling?” 

“It’s...um. Harley. Keener. From Tennessee.” 

There’s a shift on the phone, and Harley feels a bit guilty because it is late, but he doesn’t know where else to turn. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” 

“Um. I need help.” 

“With what?” 

And that’s when Harley loses it. He can barely enunciate the words, and he’s trying to furiously wipe away tears as he hears a litany of curses over the other line. 

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and I don’t know what to do, and-” 

“Kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be there in...two hours. Hell, maybe one if I can break the sound barrier. You have anything to eat yet?” 

“Um, no?” 

“Okay, then we stop for food when we get home.” 

“Home?” 

“...we’ll talk when I get there.” 

-

Tony, in all honesty, does not know what he’s doing. God knows he had two stellar examples of parenting from Howard and Maria. 

But he knows that a kid like Harley will get torn apart, and he...he can’t let him do that. 

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodey asks. 

“Yes,” Tony says. “I’m sure. We’ll...I’ll figure it out. I promise.” 

“You act like I’m not going to help you,” Rhodey says. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. You have a way of transporting him back?” 

“Already ordered a car to the airport, we’ll be taking a plane back home.” 

“Bring him back safe.” 

“Always.” 

- 

Harley collapses into Tony’s arms when he touches down, armor barely off. 

“Please,” he sobs. “Please just get me out of here.” 

- 

Tony wasn’t going into the situation blind. He had seen the article from their newspaper about the crash. 

Harley said he had been riding his bike. Abbie really wanted to get a burger, and he hadn’t wanted to go. 

“They would still be here if I had gone,” Harley says bitterly, and Tony’s heart has a pang of hurt because he understands that feeling all too well. But right now, Harley doesn’t need someone to understand everything, he just needs to be cared for. 

Tony sits down with him at a kitchen table and doesn’t miss how Harley stares at the two chairs across from them. 

“I want to talk with you,” he says quietly. “I want to know what you want to do.” 

Harley looks at him. 

“I...I wasn’t really expecting you to come.” 

“We’re connected,” Tony says, a soft smile on his face. “I always will, whenever you want. Now, I’m just here to help you figure out what you want.” 

“...what are the options?” 

Tony’s willing to go through hell and back for this kid. He doesn’t tell him this verbatim, but the sentiment is there. He’d be willing to do anything, so long as he could see Harley safe and happy wherever he was. 

- 

Harley sits outside for a moment, breathing. 

And then he can’t breathe. 

Abbie’s looking up at the night sky, smiling. 

“It’ll always be like this, right Harls?” 

“Right,” Harley says, smiling nice and easy. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to us.” 

Except he did. 

It was all over the news, and everyone knew about it. 

He comes back in, and Tony can probably tell that he’s at his absolute worst. 

“I can’t stay here. I-I need to leave. Now.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

- 

Driving in the car is a mostly silent affair. Tony hums along to AC/DC and tells Harley about new projects. 

Their first rest stop, Tony goes out with Harley, watching him carefully. 

“I’m not gonna break,” Harley snaps. 

“Not saying you’re gonna.” 

“Well I’m not.” 

“Okay. Rhodey’s at the house waiting for us when we get there.” 

“He on leave?” 

Tony nods. “Three months. Lucky.” 

“Yeah.” 

Not a lot after that. 

At some point, Harley dozes off, leaning his head against the door. 

Tony sends a message to Rhodey when they’re boarding the plane. Harley’s still a little groggy, and mostly content to just blearily go and find a seat and pass out. 

He sleeps the whole flight home, and Tony is left with his thoughts. 

Thought One: Maybe he Should’ve Left This Alone. 

Thought Two: He needs to answer Pepper’s email regarding the press conferences and publicity things, get that all worked out. 

Thought Three: He hopes Rhodey has some sort of food ready. 

- 

Rhodey sees Tony and Harley stumbling in, and he’s struck for a moment by just how similarly they carry themselves, how Harley’s eyes dart around like Tony’s did when he first moved into their dorm. 

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “You hungry?” 

“Um.” 

“We’ll sit down anyways,” Tony says. “Planes are the worst, Harley. They zap all your energy no matter how long you sit on your ass.” 

Rhodey sends Tony a look that says “you should probably watch your language.” 

Tony sends back a look that says “now’s not the time to discuss my behaviors.” 

- 

Harley sleeps. 

He’s surprised he does, because he wakes up about nine hours later, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve this long of sleep. He gets slammed with the current news of his life all over again, and his lips tremble as he gets out of a bed that he thinks is too nice for him, and stares into a mirror. 

“Mr. Keener?” 

Harley jumps. 

“...is that you, Jarvis?” 

“It is indeed, Mr. Keener. An honor to make your acquaintance, Sir has told me so much about you.” 

“Please tell me he didn’t tell you about the potato gun.” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” 

Harley grins up at where the voice emanates. 

“Your presence is required for breakfast, if that is alright.” 

“That’s...that’s fine.” 

He’s not hungry, but Rhodey slides him a plate of toast and eggs. 

“Try to eat as much as you can,” he says. “Tony can finish off the rest, if he ever comes down from his bed.” 

Harley nods, nibbling on the toast. 

“You want jam or anything? We have grape, and...only grape. This peach looks questionable.” 

Harley snorts. 

“I’m good. Thanks, though.” 

“No problem.” 

They eat in awkward but companionable silence, and finally Harley speaks. 

“Tony said you’re on leave for three months.” 

“I got lucky,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I get to stay here with you guys for longer than three weeks. A full guarantee, unless of aliens.” 

“They’re that much of a concern?” Harley asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Only at high levels,” Rhodey says, giving him a lazy wink. “You didn’t hear it from me.” 

“If anything, you would hear it from me,” Tony says, wrapped up in a gaudily-patterned robe. “Hello dearest, hello little one.” 

“I’m not little,” Harley grumbles. 

“You are shorter than me, you are little.” 

“For now. Doc said I’m supposed to be over six feet.” 

“Hm, we’ll see,” Tony says. “But enough about that. We have to have a little chat.” 

Harley’s heart leaps with anxiety. When adults talk about having a chat, or talking, it’s...well. It’s never a walk in the park. Or a jog for that matter, either. 

“What about?” 

“How we can help you.” 

Harley sighs, burrowing deep in his seat. 

“We have to talk about this?” 

“Yeah, we do.” 

- 

Harley gets set up with a therapist who he’s not sure he likes yet, but so far she’s been pretty nice. A bit of a mess, because she comes into their second session late and with iced coffee. 

“Oh shit, I should’ve asked you if you wanted something,” Joan says, fretting. “Um, hi Harley. How are we doing?” 

“Um, fine? I guess? For someone who’s dealing with a lot of change?” 

“Oh, that’s great to hear. Do you mind...?” She breathes for a minute. “There was a really cute girl in the elevator for the dentist office above me, and I had to avoid her so that I wouldn’t talk about things and ruin things, so I took the stairs. Do you mind if I just drink my coffee for a moment?” 

“...knock yourself out.” 

So they sit there for a few moments, while Joan catches her breath and Harley wonders if he can text her his coffee order later. 

“Alright, let’s talk you, Harley.” 

- 

Therapy goes well. As well as it can go, honestly. 

And Harley? Well, he settles. 

And he notices things. 

Rhodey is still with them, two months and three weeks in. This is his last week, and Tony is miserable although he won’t say anything. 

Harley notices how Tony will automatically move closer to Rhodey, and Rhodey welcomes him into his space as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

They bicker at each other, but Rhodey slides scrambled eggs onto Tony’s plate as he argues, and Tony leans over and grabs the coffee mug that Rhodey favors. 

- 

Apparently, they’re not together. 

This leaves Harley very confused. 

Tony gets all flustered and in denial when he asks about it. 

“Why would...why would he...why would he be with me?” Tony asks, moving around the kitchen. “He has more to life than that. Now come on, get your shopping list together, kiddo. I’m not gonna hear you complain for another week that we didn’t get your pumpkin-carving-coffee-creamer-whatever.” 

“It’s pumpkin spice, and you would know that because you pretend like you don’t use it.” 

“We’ll get two bottles this time,” Rhodey says, only coming in on the tail-end of the conversation. “Tony, babe, remember to get the provolone slices when we’re there for the deli sandwiches.” 

“Got it, honey.” 

Harley stares. 

They’re so...domestic. 

Harley hasn’t seen that often. Certainly didn’t see it with his parents before his dad left, and his mother...she didn’t get to have that with anyone else afterwards. And his sister, oh god-

“Kiddo, you okay?” Rhodey asks. His hand is on Harley’s shoulder, eyes full of concern. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“Just...just thinking about my mom. And my sister.” 

Rhodey brings him into a hug. 

Harley breathes in and out for a moment, absorbing the clean smell of Rhodey’s shirt and focusing on the touch. 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be fine. Let’s go, before Tony gets to choose the car and we have to fit fifteen bags into a Maserati.” 

“Then we’ll have to leave you at the store,” Rhodey teases. “Let’s see if we can get a rational car.” 

-

Grocery shopping is...it’s nice. It’s one of Harley’s favorite things to do, as boring and uninteresting as that may be. 

He mostly just likes watching Tony and Rhodey do it. It’s entertainment, and they’re so practiced together. 

Harley isn’t sure if his mom and his sister are still looking on, but he always gets their favorite snacks, just in case. He puts a bag of hot fries and a carton of strawberries into the cart, and then he grins as he finds Tony and Rhodey still arguing over whether or not they should get two bundles of green onions for the Wednesday dinner or not. 

“Come on dad,” Harley says, throwing the extra bundle into the cart. “It’ll be good, and we can probably make some sort of soup garnish for the end.” 

He moves the cart, and he doesn’t even see how Tony and Rhodey stare after him. 

“So obviously, I’m dad,” Tony says. “That’s me.” 

“Or is it?” Rhodey asks, faking suspicion. “We don’t know until a full investigation is launched.” 

“Oh full investigation my ass,” Tony says. “Come on, before he leaves us in the dust and ends up getting far too many packages of candy.” 

“Like you minded, heathen.” 

Tony pushes off the grocery cart, and Rhodey has to smile for a moment. 

He’s going to miss this. He only has a few days left, and then he’s back and he’s alone, and he’s not alone, but he...

Rhodey always misses Tony. He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s just what best friends do, but he doesn’t think that best friends think of each other in the way that he thinks of Tony. 

And now there’s Harley. 

Harley, who is so much like Tony, and so good. He smiles, and he jokes, and Rhodey now can’t imagine life without him. 

He doesn’t want to miss out on a thing, honestly. They’ve already joked about teaching him to drive in New York traffic. 

And he wants to come home. He has his own place in New York, honest to god doesn’t know why he pays rent on it since Tony usually has him stay over anyways. He should sub-let or rent it or sell it. That’d be common sense. 

-

Dinner goes well. Both Rhodey and Harley have a good rhythm in the kitchen, even with Harley’s questionable music taste and Rhodey’s inability to follow a recipe. 

“People who follow recipes are chumps,” Rhodey says, dumping more garlic powder into the mixture. “Never follow a recipe.” 

“We can call your mother and ask about the blueberry crumble incident of 1997,” Tony says innocently. “If you want to rehash how well that advice went for you. I recall a nearly-burned-down-house?” 

Rhodey scowls, turning to Harley. 

“Don’t listen to a word this man has ever said, he is an unlovable scamp.” 

“Oh really?” Harley says. “Seems to suit you just fine, right?” 

Rhodey momentarily pauses, and then grins. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

All too right. 

They eat dinner, and Tony as well as Rhodey make no mention of what’s going to happen come Saturday morning. 

At least, until Harley does, because Harley does things like ask questions. 

“So. When are you going for your next mission?” Harley asks. “And where?” 

“Classified, and seven a.m. bright and early Saturday morning,” Rhodey states. “You gonna get out of bed in time to see me off?” 

“Mm, we’ll think about it,” Tony says, biting into the pasta. “The beds are awfully comfy...” 

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey whines. “Just for that, I get to choose the movie, and I’m choosing the not-movie. I’m choosing the BBC Pride and Prejudice.” 

“You suck,” Tony groans. “If you weren’t a gorgeous man, I would have kicked you out decades earlier.” 

“You make us sound ancient.” 

“That’s because you two geezers are,” Harley says, taking his dish to the sink. “Come on, I totally dibs on getting the mint candies.” 

“Absolutely not, you stole them all last, at least let us portion them out,” Tony says. 

“Do we not live as a family? Can we no longer share things?” Harley cries out dramatically, draping his body across the couch. “Am I reduced to nothing but a pretty face?” 

“I don’t know where you get your dramatics from,” Rhodey deadpans. “Truly, I don’t.” 

Harley pokes his tongue out, and gestures for them to come over. 

“We can wash dishes later, we need to see if Mr. Darcy comes back,” Harley says. 

“You know he does,” Tony says, looking over at Rhodey. “He always will.” 

It means...something. They’re not sure what, and they’re not going to ask each other while Harley is busy commandeering the couch and wiggling his way into getting the best blanket. 

Tony on one side, Rhodey on the other, although the latter is busy popping popcorn and thinking. 

He doesn’t even really want to go. He signed up for this tour, and he wasn’t honestly thinking it was going to be his last, but with Harley now, and with how life is going...would it be a bad thing? 

Tony’s always wanted him to do at least consulting work for SI, and he could semi-retire comfortably... 

“Honey-darling!” Tony calls, “the ETA on popcorn? I’m getting desperate!” 

Harley sends Tony a sneaky look, and looks back towards the movie. 

“You should remind Rhodey to get chocolate chips,” Harley says. “You know he likes them.” 

“Of course I know that, how do you know that?” 

“You usually get the popcorn,” Harley says with a shrug. “I know what you know about him. And you know a lot, don’t you?” 

“I...I suppose,” Tony says, getting up. 

Harley settles into his spot on the couch. 

Tony comes up to Rhodey. 

“Remember your chocolate chips,” Tony says. 

Rhodey looks surprised. 

“I thought you hated how sticky they got your hands.” 

“That’s what napkins were invented for,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been dealing with your chocolate chips for years, haven’t I?” 

“I guess,” Rhodey says. “Just like I’ve been dealing with the fact that you pretend like you don’t like it, but you steal all of it.” 

“Lies and slander, dearest,” Tony says, and Rhodey grins smoothly. 

“Get back to the kid, sweetheart. I’ll be there when all of this is done.” 

And it sounds so goddamned domestic. As if it’s real, as if they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. And they have, but it’s never been...

It’s never been real. Sure, they’ve waited on each other when Rhodey leaves or Tony travels, and they fall in together in a nice and easy rhythm. 

But Tony...he’s a Stark. He needs a good reputation, and while most wouldn’t say his reputation is exactly good, there’s a lot that the public can forgive. Rhodey is not part of that. 

Tony thinks that Rhodey deserves someone better. He knows it, knows it in the way that Rhodey smiles and it’s the best damned thing he’s ever seen, knows it in the way how his eyes track people who need help the most. 

- 

Harley knows virtually none of this. The only thing he knows is that his guardians are the stupidest people on the planet, and now he has a side project besides school and by god it’ll be fun. 

But first, Rhodey is being sent off. Tony’s hands are wandering all over the place, as Harley’s noticed they do when he’s nervous. His do the same. Tony is talking about everything and joking about changes, and Rhodey smiles and nods and they both know what is going to happen. 

Harley, for his part, mostly just tries not to doze off because it’s too early for any of this but also he wants to remember this. 

Rhodey will be gone for one month and three weeks. According to Tony, this isn’t the longest he’s ever been away, but usually he’s not gone for this long. The older he gets, the shorter the missions or projects get. But they need his expertise with rookies. 

Tony, for his part, has packed about three extra bags for Rhodey under the guise of them being “goodie bags” or the army to peruse after Rhodey. 

“I won’t need all of these fancy pieces,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even leaving the US this time, cupcake.” 

“You saying you can’t be in danger when you’re here?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Take the stuff dad,” Harley says exasperated. 

“Ha!” Rhodey teases. “So I’m dad!” 

“You both are,” Harley says. “You’re both dad.” 

They grin at each other, at least until Tony furrows his brow. 

“Then how will we know which one you’re talking to?” 

“I’ll come up with a different name then,” Harley says. “I don’t know. Let’s not talk about this while you’re supposed to be boarding a jet.” 

Rhodey shrugs, leaning in for a hug from Harley, and facing Tony. There’s something in his eyes. 

“Stay safe,” Tony says. “Promise me that.” 

“I don’t make promises,” Rhodey says, a smile playing at his lips. 

“For anyone else,” Tony finishes, grinning. He brings him into a hug, probably holding on for a touch longer than necessary. But he’s leaving, so you can’t fault him for it. 

Harley is smiling to himself as Rhodey whispers something in Tony’s ear, which causes him to widen his eyes in delight. 

“Seriously? You’re serious.” 

“As a heart attack.” 

Tony cheers for a moment, before they hear a shout across the tarmac. Rhodey gives a lazy salute. 

“Until one month and three weeks.” 

“Until then, nerd,” Harley shouts. 

Tony blows a kiss, and Rhodey “catches” it and puts it in his pocket. 

Harley sends Tony a look as they’re driving home. 

“So. What did Rhodey whisper in your ear?” 

“He’s going to move in,” Tony says, grinning. 

“He doesn’t actually live at our home?” Harley asks, absolutely flabbergasted. “There’s no fucking way-” 

“Language!” 

“You said ‘shit’ during breakfast, if anything this is just leveling the playing field-” 

“Don’t care, you’re a small child. What would the public say if they knew I was teaching my boy curse words?” Tony says dramatically. 

“They’d probably not be surprised,” Harley answers. “Didn’t you tell the paparazzi to ‘get fucked’ when they ambushed our dinner last month?” 

“Not the point.” 

“Or is it?” 

“You’re detracting from the fact that you get to help me get rid of all of Rhodey’s ugly furniture in his apartment.” 

“Seriously?” Harley whines. “No, I’m...doing something.” 

“Doing what? Eating hot fries on my couch and getting it stained with spicy cheese dust?” 

“...no.” 

“Hm, thought so. You’re coming with me.” 

- 

Rhodey isn’t expecting to miss home as fiercely as he does this time around. He’s irritable, but he finds comfort in talking with some of the other members of the crew about kids. 

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Hicks mentions. “When did that happen?” 

“About six months ago,” Rhodey answers. “Kid needed a guardian, Tony stepped up to the plate. He’s a real neat kid, really a genius. Just like Tony, in that way.” 

“You live with Tony, finally?” Thompson asks. “Or do you still have that dinky bachelor pad?” 

“I’m selling it,” Rhodey said. “I told Tony I’d help out with Harley, and that’s what I’m doing. Figure since I’m always over there anyways, might as well move in.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t move in sooner, what with you and Stark anyways,” Thompson remarks. 

“What do you mean?” Rhodey asks. 

“You’re...not together?” 

Rhodey looks away, a bit sheepish. 

“Uh...no. We’re not.” 

“But you wanna be,” Owens teases from her corner, eating her sandwich. “You stupid lover-boy.” 

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey fires back. “As if you aren’t all over your husband when you get back.” 

“But I, my dear old man, am married,” Owens says. “Put a ring on it! God knows you should’ve, like, eight years ago. Have you even asked him on a date?” 

“He has other options, and a life outside of me,” Rhodey says. 

“Bullshit,” the team crows, laughing. Rhodey just shakes his head, and bites into his sandwich. 

He misses them. 

-

Harley and Tony miss him equally as much. Tony is down in the dumps, sulking in his lab while Harley attempts to rebuild a projectile weapon. 

“Do you have a permit for that?” 

“Do I need one?” Harley asks. “I’m not gonna take it anywhere, except maybe when I’m in trouble.” 

“When will you be in trouble?” 

“...you’ll know.” 

“Please tell me you’re not going to be on national news.” 

“Just on regional, don’t worry.” 

Tony sighs. 

“Rhodey is going to want to witness that, so can you wait?” 

“...potentially.” 

- 

Rhodey gets letters from the two of them. He thinks it’s Harley’s idea: after all, Tony would simply just hijack the internet feed and yell at people until Rhodey was called for. 

He gets two pages from Tony with his elegant writing, the writing that almost never comes out because he remembers that Tony was taught how to write in blocky, all-caps letters that he was fond of now. 

Harley writes in chicken-scratch that is barely legible, although he mentions that he’s been learning about lettering from Tony. 

Tony misses you a lot, by the way, Harley writes, he’s been playing all of your favorite songs, and I didn’t know that you liked Three Dog Night. Interesting. 

It’s not surprising that Tony knows and plays his music, not really. But Rhodey is still pleasantly surprised that even when he isn’t physically present, Tony keeps a piece of him around. 

Similarly, Tony writes about Harley. 

The kid misses you, honey. He’s been compiling a list of things he wants to do when you get back. You’re better at hugging him, by the way. Today (well, Wednesday for you) we had a good cry session. Wish you were there, but we made do with what we had. Why did you take your sweatshirt, by the way? Stupid man, now I can’t wear it and drape myself across couches like a scorned widow. Honestly...

- 

Rhodey comes back on a Tuesday morning. Harley’s allowed to miss school for it, which he’s very happy about. 

“That doesn’t mean you get to sleep in,” Tony says. “We’re picking him up at eight.” 

“Why must I be punished for all time,” Harley moans. “Eight? Seriously? Doesn’t the army know that noon exists?” 

“They made up the early rule because of me,” Tony jokes. “But I promise that Rhodey will most likely want an actual breakfast, which means we get diner breakfast.” 

“Yes!” Harley says, pumping his fist. “Waking up early just became worth it.” 

“Yeah sure, just look at the emails your teachers sent you about missing homework and be sure to text Peter and Ned about the classes you missed,” Tony says. 

Harley nods, walking out of the kitchen before pausing and turning back. 

“You should wear that Black Sabbath shirt that Rhodey likes tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll be nice for him to see.” 

Tony raises an eyebrow. 

“And since when did you know what Rhodey likes to see?” 

“Since I was born with vision,” Harley deadpans. “He always picks that shirt out for you when you come back after a business meeting overseas.” 

- 

Waking up at eight a.m. is worth it for a hug from Rhodey. Honest to god, that man gives the best hugs Harley’s ever had, short of Abbie and mom. 

Tony is asking a million questions a minute, and then telling Rhodey about the results of the apartment. A Stark Industries employee is renting it, and Tony managed to save some of the mugs, and chastised Rhodey for stealing a colander, apparently. 

“It was our good one! Why did you leave it in your apartment?” 

“I thought I stored it where we put the pans!” Rhodey defended. “How was I supposed to know that it was at that apartment?” 

“Quit arguing and start moving,” Harley says. “We have breakfast to get to.” 

“Our boy is growing,” Tony says, sighing. “Soon he’ll eat us out of house and home.” 

“We live in a gigantic tower in New York, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Rhodey says. “Although let’s get on it before there’s too much of a wait.” 

“It’s a Tuesday, darling,” Tony says. “No wait. And they know us.” 

- 

Harley enjoys witnessing breakfast. Basically because Tony and Rhodey fall into their respective rhythms as if no one had ever left. Rhodey is fighting about the hash browns, and Tony is reaching all the way across the table for the hot sauce. 

Harley has honestly and truly missed them all together like this. 

Even if Rhodey nabs a sausage from his plate. 

“I’m the growing teen here!” Harley says, gesturing with his fork. “Why steal from your poor, innocent charge? Was it not enough to leave for a month and three weeks?” 

“And three weeks! Honestly honey,” Tony says, distracting Harley enough to steal the other sausage off of his plate. “You should’ve been here sooner, we could’ve eaten more of these!” 

“You both are criminals,” Harley says. “Criminals who I have to live with. This is unforgivable. I’ll waste away into nothing...” 

Rhodey laughs, and he catches Tony’s eyes. 

Yeah. It’s good to be back. 

- 

Living with Tony and Harley isn’t really an adjustment at all. Rhodey had barely used his apartment before, and now is no different. He just gets to decorate his room a little bit more, and contribute more to groceries. 

He’s also around for more of Harley which is...interesting. 

The kid knows something, that’s for sure. 

He is also sneakily good at making sure that Tony and Rhodey get alone time, whether that be last-minute-ditching plans with Pepper or “forgetting” that he was supposed to be going to Ned’s for a video-game championship. (Harley was good at lying, but Tony and Rhodey have had years of practice.) 

Rhodey has a sneaking suspicion that he knows why. 

Harley isn’t a stupid boy, not by a long shot. 

He’s caught on to Rhodey’s stares, the way that Tony and Rhodey have something, but neither really want to acknowledge. 

To acknowledge means to know, and knowing is something that is far more terrifying than most people give it credit. 

- 

Harley eventually has help. 

After all, he and Pepper didn’t just go their separate ways when he ditched his guardians to give them quality dates, and he didn’t just talk about video game strategy with Peter, Ned, and MJ. 

He was planning. Figured it would fit with a life plan, honestly. 

Pepper is quite potentially even more tired than he is, and has agreed to help set up a nice date. 

She’s made deals she never expected to. 

She owes the god of mischief a bottle of wine. It’s ridiculous. 

Peter and Ned have been elected with getting the “aesthetic” right, and MJ has been “helpfully” suggesting where lights go. 

“MJ, if I move them any more left they’ll fall off the building and become a hazard,” Harley grunts. 

“Exactly. Nothing says romance like dangerous situations,” she says with a shrug. “But put them in the tree, and we can link the extension cord behind. It’ll look nice. All Pinterest-y and shit.” 

“Why can’t you help and then joke?” 

“I never joke. You just always like my second plan better.” 

“I don’t know whether to be terrified or alarmed!” Peter calls from his spot of building the cheese-board. 

“They’re synonyms,” MJ says. “When are we going home, by the way?” 

“As soon as Rhodey finishes up with his afternoon run, and Tony realizes that dinner is still a social concept,” Harley says. 

“Time, then?” 

“...five-thirty.” 

“Perfect.” 

“I’ll call my mom about the pizza,” Ned says. “We still thinking one pepperoni and one veggie?” 

“Sounds great,” Peter says. “What movie are we watching tonight?” 

“Twitter polls said Clueless over the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. Sorry Ned, looks like your choice will be next week.” 

“My heart hurts, but it understands,” Ned says sagely, placing a hand over his heart. “I will see Mercutio soon enough.” 

- 

Tony was not aware that their rooftop had lights. He doesn’t remember putting them there. 

He was also pretty sure that Harley had a question about the flight patterns of birds in relation to GPS technology in drones, and it was weird that it was outside, but- 

There’s a cheese-board. And now he gets why Pepper made him change shirts. He knew that his shirt wasn’t ugly! 

Rhodey is standing across the way, looking at the dinner set-up and the tealights flickering gently from their placement. 

“Is this...did you do this, Tony?” 

“I don’t have this much of a creative eye,” Tony says, eyeing the intimate table placement. “Maybe Pepper?” 

“She doesn’t do lights...” 

“Harley,” they both say in unison, laughing. 

There’s a note at the table, written in the same near-illegible handwriting: 

Either get together or I get to make a Twitter thread. Your call. 

Tony snorts as he looks at the placement of everything. 

“Well...it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” 

“Is that you saying you’re flattered, but no thanks?” Rhodey asks. 

“No,” Tony says, looking at Rhodey. “It’s not that at all, if you-” 

“You mean-?” 

“What? Is this what’s happening?” Tony asks. His breathing speeds up. He’s quite embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks turn red. He thought he got rid of blushing in ‘96. 

“I...damn it, Tony. I love you!” 

Tony stares. He just stares, and for a moment it doesn’t process, until it does. He flings himself into Rhodey’s arms, and laughs. 

“Holy shit, that’s a relief.” 

Rhodey spins him around, taking a brief moment to kiss him gently on the cheek. 

“Oh, you owe me more than that, soldier.” 

“I think I’m a little bit higher ranked than that.” 

“Oh, and what would that be?” 

“Boyfriend, for one.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. 

“We’re, like, a minute into this and you’re already the cheesy one.” 

“Well one of us has to be, and I’m going to beat you to the punch.” 

- 

Harley gets one text at four in the morning from Rhodey: 

no twitter thread for us. and you need to figure out what to call tony because i’m claiming “dad.” 

Harley cackles, grinning. 

got it, he’ll be pops then. 

Tony texts Harley a minute later. 

if you call me ‘pops’ there will be a mutiny! a mutiny!! 

Harley laughs again, tapping a message back. 

wotever. 

Tony doesn’t respond, choosing instead to roll back over and sling an arm around his significant other. It’s too early to be nitpicking your kid’s grammar. 

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Peter was unreasonably nervous on the way to Tony’s house – he felt like a teenage virgin, even though he was far from that. The problem was he knew the older man probably had certain expectations for what was about to happen, it was impossible for him not to have, of course. He watched all of his videos, he followed his Just4Fans, he had seen his wildest, sexiest, naughtiest side, but the thing was, that didn’t really come natural to Peter.

What most people didn’t seem to realize was that porn sex was very different from real life sex. Most of the things that looked good didn’t necessarily feel good, because porn wasn’t about getting off, it was about getting the viewers off, at the cost of the actors’ own pleasure sometimes. In Peter’s experience, most of the times.

Tony was older, experienced, Peter supposed he knew all of that, but he also met him through porn, he had seen him have sex with several people several times, so who knew, maybe he thought Peter actually liked being choked half to death or slapped black and blue. Maybe he thought he liked it rough, no prep and no lube, and maybe he wouldn’t understand that if he cried and begged him to stop, he wasn’t trying to be kinky, he just–  

“Hey.” Peter jumped up in surprise when he heard the man’s voice to his left. Tony had both of his hands on the steering wheel, but his eyes were focused on him. There was a small frown between his brows and the younger man wondered if he had missed something. “I can still drive you home if you changed your mind, ok?”

“What?” Peter asked, a little too loudly, and the older man gave him a small smile.

“You just seem a little freaked out,” he clarified, and the boy blushed, dipping his chin down to stare at his lap. “There’s no pressure here, Peter. If I somehow made you feel like you have to do this, please –“

“Gods, no!” He cut him off, because that was the furthest thing from the truth, not even once did Tony make him feel like he had to do anything. “I’m sorry, it’s just – been a while since–” he started, but then he felt dumb, because he used to do that for a living and Tony knew it. “I mean, without cameras and stuff.” He mumbled, feeling his face burning in shame at the confession.

He was surprised when the older man’s hand came into view, grabbing one of his gently. Peter raised his eyes to look at him.

“Tell you what,” Tony started with that charming smile of his, squeezing his hand a little. “We’ll just have a few drinks and see where it goes. I’ll drive you home at any time you ask, just say the word.”

Peter sighed, feeling weirdly relieved by those words. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that, but it was still nice to hear. He could quit at any time. He was still in control of his body. He got to decide whatever happened next.

“Sounds nice,” he said, and Tony must have heard the honesty in his voice because his expression softened and the corners of his lips tilted up.

A few minutes later, Stark Tower popped into view as they turned a corner and the younger man noticed they were headed there, which confused him at first, but Tony explained he lived on the top floor of the tower. Peter was surprised to hear that, he always assumed he lived in some fancy building in Manhattan, but when he thought about it, it made sense. Tony living anywhere else could be a threat to his neighbors’ lives, what with his side job and all.  

“I used to live in Malibu.” Peter remembered that. He also remembered his mansion was destroyed in a terrorist attack back in 2010, after Tony basically gave the Mandarin his home address. “When I moved here, I decided to turn the top few floors of Stark Tower into my home. It was all for me at first, but later it became the Avengers headquarters. A few of them lived there for a while, like Steve, before we… You know.” Peter didn’t know, actually. He remembered Captain America and a few others became fugitives at some point, but he didn’t really know the story behind it. To be fair, he didn’t think the public at large knew the whole truth either. “Now it’s just me again.”

Peter didn’t comment on the fact that he skipped the part where he probably lived there with Pepper Potts. The boy didn’t lie when he said he didn’t know a lot about the older man’s life, but some things were hard to miss, like his marriage to the most powerful woman in the world. Peter remembered it was literally all over the news, meaning the divorce, just a little over a year earlier, was just as covered by the media as well.

He decided not to ask, though.

When they arrived at the tower, Tony got out of the car and went around it to open the door for him. He blushed at the small act of chivalry, but the older man didn’t even seem to realize it. He once again placed a hand on the small of his back as he led him to a metal door that slid open with a quiet hiss after both of their faces were scanned.

Tony nudged him inside what looked like an elevator; there were no buttons or anything, but it started moving up as soon as the doors closed behind them. The ride up to the top floor was filled with “fun facts” about the tower, for which Peter was grateful, he could tell the man was trying to put him at ease and he appreciated it.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal a fancy living room, though, he couldn’t help the nervous sigh that left his lips.

“Okay, I know I promised drinks, but I think we had enough at the restaurant, right?” Tony’s warm hand never left his back, and it had a soothing effect on him. Peter nodded, because they did share two bottles of wine during the meal, plus half a bottle of champagne for desert. He wasn’t wasted, but he was definitely not one hundred percent sober either, so maybe it was best to to keep it that way. “How about some coffee, then?”

“Sure, sounds good.” He smiled politely, as the older man led him into the living room.

It was huge, Peter was positive it could fit his whole apartment and there would still be a lot of room left over, but it was also very empty and minimalist. There was a couch and a few armchairs, they looked expensive, but not very comfortable. Other than that, there were paintings on the walls, a few decorative pieces, but nothing that stood to attention, except for the huge floor-to-ceiling glass wall, from which he could see almost all of New York City.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” Tony gestured to the couch, but as he walked away in the direction Peter assumed was the kitchen, he headed to the window, watching the view.

He took a deep breath, trying to get his heartbeat somewhat under control. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, what he wanted to happen, but most of all, he worried about the day after. About what would happen when he left the tower, when he left Tony behind. His brain told him that that whole night was a one time thing and that was it. But somewhere in his heart he hoped for… more.

He didn’t know what, though. He and Tony belonged to very different worlds, hoping for anything other than a one night stand seemed pointless.

“Here you go.” Tony walked back into the room, he had lost his jacket and tie, the top buttons of his shirt were open, exposing some of his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Peter gulped, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he tried to focus on the coffee mugs in his hands, instead.

“Thanks.” He walked over to where the man was standing next to the couch, and accepted the drink, looking around the room, trying to find something that could distract him from his shaking hands. “Is that you?” He pointed at a barely visible black and white picture hanging on the wall of a hallway off to his right, leading away from the living room. Tony seemed surprised that Peter even noticed it, but he walked over there and waved for the younger man to follow.

“This is Dum-E, my first born, and this is me at sixteen,” Up close, Peter could see that it was a newspaper clipping and the headline read Tony Stark poses with the prize winning robot in his father’s workshop at Stark Industries. In the picture, he was crouching down next to a hydraulic arm robot, smiling proudly at the camera. Peter couldn’t help but notice that, of all the times he had probably made the newspapers, it seemed like that was the only one he chose to frame.

“You looked so cute,” he cooed, focusing on the kid in the picture. It wasn’t good quality, but he could tell Tony looked nerdy and maybe a little awkward. He wondered if he got picked on a lot in college. When he turned to look at the man’s face, he was smiling at him, amused. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.” Peter’s heart went so wild in his chest, he was worried the older man could hear it. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, by the way, I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision.” Tony placed his mug on the console table next to them.  

“I hope it wasn’t too disappointing.” He chuckled nervously, leaning against the wall and holding his mug with both hands so the man wouldn’t notice how they were still shaking.

“Actually, it was way better than I imagined, kitten,” he assured him, moving to stand right in front of him, leaving Peter trapped between him and the wall.

“What did you imagine?” He took a sip of coffee, before placing his mug on the console table too, watching as Tony discreetly took a small step closer to him, so the tips of their shoes were almost touching.

“That you might turn out to be a kiss-ass who would try to impress me with a fake personality or something, but you can’t fake this.” He pinched his pink cheek, which made Peter blush even harder. “What did you imagine? About me, I mean.”

“It varied.” He said, to put it lightly. “But when we first started talking, I got almost everything right.” He bragged, because, to his credit, it was true.

“Yeah?” Tony’s eyes widened a little in surprise.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded, eyes roaming the man’s face, remembering all the things he fantasized about over the past few months. “Your hair, your eyes… Your voice.” His voice was small when he finished, as Tony closed the space between them by leaning in closer, one hand resting beside his head on the wall.

“My voice?” He lifted a brow and tilted his head to the side, blinking in curiosity.

“Mm-hmm.” He agreed nervously, eyes flickering between the man’s eyes and his mouth.

“Did you think about it a lot?” Tony was almost whispering then, his voice sounded smooth and low, and they were so close Peter could feel his coffee scented breath on his face.

“All the time.” He admitted, blinking slowly, hypnotized. Tony looked at him for a few seconds, eyes searching his face for something. When he seemed satisfied, he placed his other hand on Peter’s hip, gently, barely there, caging the younger man’s body completely in his arms.

“What did you think about?” Tony’s eyelids were so low he might as well have his eyes closed, but Peter knew he was staring at his mouth, which made him lick his lips. His heart was going wild in his rib cage, his breath growing irregular, talking became such a difficult task he didn’t think he could answer the question if he tried. “What did you want me to say to you?”

“Uhm… I just… Nice things.” He breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as he felt the man’s warm breath in his ear.

“Nice things.” He whispered, and then Peter could feel not only his hand on his hip, but his whole arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He gasped. “Like how good you are to me, hmm? Want me to tell you how beautiful you sounded when you said my name for the first time? How bad I’ve been wanting to touch you, since the first time I saw you?” Peter whimpered and lost all the strength in his knees, but Tony had a firm grip on him, holding him up. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” As if the answer could be anything different from that when Tony’s arms were so warm around him and his breath warmed his neck and his smell enveloped him in a dream-like state. His eyes were already closed when Tony’s lips crashed into his and it was all Peter expected it to be.

Tony’s kiss was demanding, but gentle; anxious, but slow. His mouth moved against his like he had been waiting his whole life for that moment, his tongue sought passage through his lips and Peter obliged, meeting him halfway, and if there was any shred of doubt in his mind, it went right out the window at that second as Tony devoured him whole.

He felt his back slamming against a solid surface, even though he didn’t feel his feet moving. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t standing anymore, Tony had lifted him up and pushed him against the wall, catching him by surprise. He wrapped his legs around his waist, as he felt the man’s hands sliding from his hips down to his ass cheeks, where he squeezed tight.  

His fingers got lost in the locks of Tony’s thick hair and a shock traveled down his spine when he felt the older man’s cock pressed against his, hips rocking torturously slow. Peter let out a surprised cry and Tony swallowed it eagerly, sinking his fingers into his flesh, they were so hot Peter could swear he could feel them through the fabric of his too expensive dress pants.

“Tony...” The name slipped out of his mouth without he even realizing it, the sound got trapped between their lips, like a shared secret.

“Shhh,” Tony shushed him when he whimpered, overwhelmed with all the feelings – the heat of their bodies glued together, the intensity of their incessant kissing, the feel of Tony’s hardness pressing against his, his hands roaming his body like they owned him – it was almost too much, Peter thought it might drive him insane. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable.”

The older man let him down gently, but held him firmly by the hips as he did, which was a good thing, since it took him a minute to find balance again. He gave him a lopsided grin, grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the hallway.

He followed the older man to what he assumed was his bedroom – it was just as big as the living room, probably, there was a huge bed in the center, and one of the walls was entirely made of glass, just like in the living room, but it slowly grew darker and darker until it was a solid gray color, hiding them from the world outside and vice-versa. The room was dark, then, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust.

Tony let go of his hand and turned around to look at him, as he calmly undid a few more buttons of his shirt, eyes fixed on Peter’s face. He felt his cheeks burning again, which made the corners of the man’s mouth tilt up.

He sat down on the bed behind him and before the younger man could wonder what he was supposed to do next, he felt Tony’s hands on his hips, pulling him closer, until Peter was standing between his spread legs and the man’s face was almost pressed against his chest.

“We can stop right here,” he said, looking up at him, and Peter had a sudden urge to run his hands through his hair, so he didn’t hold back. Tony closed his eyes and sighed, turning his head a little to kiss one of his palms. “Did you hear me, honey?” He asked, firmly, looking into his eyes, and he nodded.

“I don’t wanna stop.” He whispered back, cupping the older man’s face, leaning down for a kiss.

Tony groaned into the kiss, satisfied with Peter’s initiative. He reached for the back of the boy’s legs and pulled them until he got the message and straddled him. They both moaned softly when their bodies found each other again. It was amazing to Peter how much easier it was for him to feel comfortable when they were so close, when Tony’s hands were burning his skin and his tongue was claiming his mouth in the most possessive way.

Again, he barely felt when Tony maneuvered him, he just felt an incredibly soft surface against his back and realized he was lying down with the older man between his legs. He felt dizzy, a little out of his mind, like he was in a dream. The room was dark and so very quiet, the only thing he could hear was the sloppy sounds of their lips locked together – and he had to admit he was growing addicted to it, to his taste, to the way his kisses left barely any room for breathing and still he would rather suffocate than ask him to stop.

He whimpered when he felt the older man pull away. He opened his eyes only to meet his heated gaze staring down at him for a moment, before he sat back on his heels and finished unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing more skin as he went. Peter noticed the scars on his chest and for some crazy reason he wanted to touch them, kiss them better, even though he knew they probably didn’t even hurt anymore. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back.

“Enjoying the view?” His eyes snapped back up to Tony’s face and the man was smirking down at him, as he slid the shirt off his arms and threw it carelessly to the floor.

“Can you blame me? It’s quite a view.” Peter felt bold enough to say, watching the smile grown on older man’s face, as he leaned down again, his arms caging the boy’s head when he placed his elbows on each side of his face. He brushed his nose along Peter’s cheek, until he reached his ear, biting down on the lobe as he blew hot, moist air against his skin. The boy shivered, closing his eyes, hands flying up to grab Tony’s naked shoulders as if he was afraid he would sink into the mattress if he didn’t hold on to something.

“You think you can just say stuff like that and get away with it?” The words were mumbled into his neck as he bit down with hunger, one hand sliding down his torso, reaching for his belt. Tony started undoing it as he kept whispering in his ear, “You wanna hear nice things, but you keep trying to drive daddy mad, how is that fair?”

“Oh God,” Peter gasped, when he felt the man’s hand slide down the front of his pants, under his underwear, wrapping around his cock without any warning. He started massaging it slowly, almost lazily, as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Daddy, please...”

“Now that’s a good boy. So polite.” His lips came crashing down onto Peter’s as his hand tightened around his cock, jerking it at a faster pace. The boy wrapped his arms around Tony��s neck, hands finding their way into his hair for the hundredth time that night – God, he loved his hair, so thick and soft in his fingers – and pulled him even closer to his face, deepening the kiss in an almost desperate way.

Peter kept trying to get Tony’s hand to move faster, thrusting his hips up every chance he got, but the older man ignored it completely, keeping his own, steady pace, as his mouth slid from Peter’s lips to his neck. The younger man threw his head back, exposing his throat, allowing Tony to have his way with him, there was nothing he wouldn’t give him right then and there, he was his.

“You smell fucking delicious, baby.” He inhaled deeply, nosing the exposed skin right above the collar of his shirt, then both of his hands started working on unbuttoning it and Peter whined at the loss of Tony’s touch on his cock. “It’s okay,” he whispered as he slid the shirt down his arms, throwing it to the side. “I’ll take good care of you, baby, I promise.” He leaned back down and kissed along Peter’s collarbones, before sucking one of his nipples into his mouth.

Peter was so fucking hard, just hearing those words almost sent him over the edge, it was ridiculous. It didn’t help that the older man’s tongue was abusing his nipple until it was hard and oversensitive, before he attacked the other one.

He slid his hands from the man’s shoulders, down his sides, reaching for his belt, but before he could do anything about it, Tony grabbed both of his wrists in one hand, catching him off guard, and held them above his head. Before Peter could say anything, his mind was distracted by those delicious lips assaulting his again, and the pressure of the older man’s hands around his wrists and his solid weight on top of him was enough to tame him into submission.

“Don’t move,” he demanded in a whisper, giving Peter one last peck on the lips before getting off of him. He bit his lower lip, trying to contain any sound of disappointment he might make, and shut his his eyes tightly. He kept his hands where Tony left them, above his head, like he could still feel the man’s fingers around them.

In seconds, Tony was back, Peter felt him positioning himself between his legs again, but didn’t open his eyes. He felt the older man’s hands on his hips, grabbing the waistband of his pants, slowly sliding to bring them down along with his underwear, leaving Peter naked and completely at his mercy. The feeling was inebriating.

When he didn’t do anything else for several seconds, the boy opened his eyes, breath hitching when he saw Tony in all his naked glory, kneeling between his legs, holding the base of his rock hard cock as he looked down at him with hunger in his eyes.

Before Peter could say or do anything, Tony leaned down and, without any warning, enveloped his cock in the wet warmth of his mouth, swallowing him down in one single motion. Peter cried out in pleasure, head spinning, eyes watering, legs spreading wider to give the older man more room to do whatever he wanted to him.

He bit the back of his hand when the man started sucking him, head bobbing up and down in a steady, slow pace, before drawing back with a pop, only for his lips and tongue to circle the tip of his cock, swallowing it down again right after, until Peter could feel the back of his throat. He couldn’t avoid the moan that slipped from his lips, as one of his hands flew to bury into Tony’s hair, but he didn’t dare to apply any pressure, he just pulled a little on the soft strands, trying to get himself under control.

When Tony set a quick pace with his mouth, Peter started pushing his hips just a tiny bit, keeping up with him, skin burning, hands gripping the sheets as if it could hold him back. He felt something cold and wet trying to make its way between his ass cheeks, making his eyes fly open, widening a little. He panted, knees falling further apart, allowing the older man better access. He felt one finger pushing in, calmly, gently, as the man kept sucking him off just as enthusiastically, Peter barely felt the burn on his lower back when the finger was completely sheathed inside him.

He was overwhelmed by the double stimulation, but he’d be damned if he was going to ask Tony to stop or slow down. He rocked his hips at Tony’s pace, obediently following the rise and fall of his head, thrusting up into his mouth and then down against his finger, taking anything and everything he could get.

He was already going insane when Tony held his hips down, as he slowly introduced another finger along with the first, the burning sensation taking the edge off a little, to Peter’s relief. He stayed still for a few seconds, feeling Tony scissoring his fingers, trying to open him up as best as he could, until both of them were buried deep inside him, pressing all the right places, pushing all his buttons at once, and he knew he couldn’t take that for much longer.

“Daddy, please, please... Please...” He pulled Tony’s hair until he reluctantly lifted his head, letting his cock go with a pop, eyes meeting Peter’s head on, dark as midnight.

“Please what, baby boy?” He asked, still fucking his fingers in and out of his hole, pain and pleasure mixing and making it impossible for him to rationalize anything.

“Please fuck me,” he begged, watching a slow smile appear on the older man’s face.  

Tony climbed on top of him and attacked his lips, to Peter’s delight, who wrapped his arms and legs around his larger body, pulling him closer, their heated skins flush together, the boy could feel every inch of him enveloped by Tony’s warmth, his scent, all of him.

When Tony pulled away, Peter quickly moved to turn his back to him and lay on his stomach, not sure if he would want him like that or on all fours, so he pushed his hips up, giving him the option to put him on his knees if he wanted to. It took Tony a few seconds to lay his weight on him again, his chest glued to his back in a delicious friction, hips aligned, his hard cock pressed against his ass, as he mouthed at his neck, sucking and biting.

“Will you turn around for me, baby?” He whispered in his ear, nudging him on the side. Peter blinked a few times, trying to look at him from over his shoulder, but the angle didn’t allow it. “I wanna see you.”

His breath hitched and he froze for a second, feeling both of Tony’s hands sliding down his sides. He put some space between them and nudged Peter again, but didn’t force him to turn, he let him choose. The younger man obeyed, after a few seconds of stunned silence. Tony rested his weight against him again, holding his gaze.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against his lips, waiting long enough for Peter to breathe out an almost soundless yes before devouring him. He closed his eyes and let himself go, gave himself over the other man, without a hint of fear, untroubled by the consequences of the day after.

He felt Tony’s hands, strong and rough, grabbing both of his thighs, lifting one of them to place his ankle on his shoulder, spreading him wide open. He felt the wet tip of his cock brushing against his hole, making it quiver in anticipation. Peter only had enough time to take a breath before feeling the older man start to press into him, but his moan was swallowed by Tony, who kissed him deeply as he forced his way into him, slowly and unrelenting, the burn was painful but so fucking good.  

“Tony, please,” he begged, he didn’t even know what for, when he felt the man bottoming out. He wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in his shoulder, breathless, shaking all over. “Daddy...”

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding still for a few minutes. Peter appreciated the gesture – he did – but he really needed more, he needed Tony to move, he needed Tony.

He rocked his hips and immediately felt his already swollen lips attacked again by the older man’s as he pulled his cock out slowly, and then gently shoved it back in. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through the pain, but he didn’t want to stop, he didn’t want time, he felt full and satiated and he just wanted that feeling to last forever.

Tony started picking up the pace, fucking into him with short, shallow thrusts at first, and then long and deep ones as Peter’s muscles relaxed and started to give in to the intrusion and suck him in deeper. Tony must have felt it because he held him down by the hips and started fucking him like he meant it, and the younger man threw his head back, crying in relief and pleasure and delicious pain, only to have his throat attacked with kisses and bites, Tony’s beard scratching against his smooth skin, leaving burns that felt like claiming marks.

“Please, I’m gonna–“ Peter didn’t have to say anything, soon there was a hand wrapped firmly around his cock, pumping it at the same pace as Tony thrust into him, and it was too fucking much, Peter bit down on the man’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes tight as came with a blinding force, body shaking all over. Tony thrust a few more times, hard and deep, as he grunted, before he pushed one final time and fell on top of him with a sigh.

Peter panted, trying to catch his breath, what proved to be tricky with the larger man lying on top of him, but he made no effort to get him to move. On the contrary, he gathered the last of his strength to hold him by the shoulders, keeping him close for as long as he could.

He must have drifted off at some point, because he was startled awake by someone sitting by his side on the bed. When he opened his eyes, the older man smiled sheepishly down at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, leaning down to peck his lips, before sitting up again. “I’m just gonna clean you up a little, ok?” Peter blinked a few times in confusion, until he looked down and noticed the older man had a wet towel in his hand, which he used to slowly clean his chest, belly, legs and between his butt cheeks.

The young man blushed a little, surprised by his actions, but said nothing, just watched as the Tony threw the towel to the floor and lay next to him, propping his head on a hand to look down at him.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked quietly, after a few seconds, not wanting to be an inconvenience, but Tony frowned.  

“Why, do you want to go?” He asked and Peter bit his lower lip, looking into the warm, brown eyes, trying to figure out the answer the engineer wanted to hear. He shook his head no and Tony smiled softly, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. Peter all but purred. “Then stay, kitten. I make great pancakes.”

“You don’t say.” He raised his eyebrows in honest surprise, because he didn’t think a billionaire genius would worry about mastering such a mundane task as making pancakes.

“I do say. You’ll see tomorrow morning,” he answered quietly, like a secret, as his hand traveled from Peter’s face to his hipbone, where his fingers made small circles that tickled his skin lightly. He let his head rest on the pillow next to Peter’s, their faces so close he could feel Tony’s breath on his lips.

“I saw you the other day.” Peter whispered, because it felt intimate, like they were keeping secrets from the world. Tony lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “Well, Iron Man, I guess. Flying over Central Park.”

“Oh, yeah. I went to a meeting in the UN Security Council, but then I had to come back here in a hurry, or Pepper would kill me.” Tony had a contagious, cheeky smile, but Peter couldn’t help but notice a little sadness hiding in his eyes when he talked about his ex-wife. He wondered if Tony could see the same sadness earlier, when they were talking about Beck.

“Hmm. Trying to decide if that meeting was incredibly boring or incredibly cool.”

“Weirdly, it was both.” They laughed quietly and Tony slid closer, until their chests were almost touching. “Is this ok?” He asked and the younger man just nodded, before he arranged himself to rest his face on Tony’s chest, legs entwining in the process until they were both comfortable. They fit well together, Peter couldn’t help but think in secret.

He knew it was stupid to hope for anything other than what they’d just done, he knew it was pointless to want more, he did, he truly did. But when he closed his eyes, he imagined things were different. He imagined he had a different past and Tony had a different life, and things were simpler and easier.

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of Tony’s chest.

-x-

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker

[lnarizakis]

stickers found on fruits, or something like that | s. rintarou

pairing: suna rintarou x fem! reader

foreword: for ai, whose birthday is today (sept. 2)! thank you so much for being my friend, and i hope you have an amazing day today! many more to come!

wc: 1.7k

━━━━━━━━━━☆

Underneath your bed was a fairly-sized cardboard box that contained some of your most prized possessions. On the side of the box there was a poorly written label that read, “Stickers found on fruits or something like that.” You don’t remember who wrote it, or why it was written, for that matter, but every time you pulled out the box and read the label, you chuckled to yourself, knowing that it must have been a good memory for you at the time. There were four items inside the box: a pencil, a wrinkled, old sheet of paper with a sticker on it, a roll of athletic tape, and a jacket. 

A PENCIL. 

Back when you were in high school, you dubbed yourself as irresponsible. Many of your classmates looked upon you with disdain at your ridiculousness and lack of readiness. Your friend Miya Osamu always supplied you with pencils whenever you needed one, and you couldn’t thank him enough. You remember he always gave you a short nod in response to your gratitude. 

The one day that Osamu hadn’t brought any extra pencils when you so desperately needed one had you almost in tears. Your heartbeat raced, you grew a shortness of breath, and your eyes darted around the room, hoping someone was kind enough to lend you one of their pencils. Test day called for the utmost readiness, which you lacked. 

After a moment of your worries, the person in front of you turned around with sharp eyes that struck a chord in your heart. Pushing his bangs slightly out of the way, he gave you one of his pencils, telling you to stop making so much noise behind him. You relished in the sultry tone of his voice, breathing in the scent he wafted towards you, and you thought you actually might cry because of this god of a man. 

Next to you, Osamu watched you with second-hand embarrassment. You turned to him, eyebrows raised in confusion. He told you the boy in front of you was his teammate, Suna Rintarou. Your face warmed; now knowing his name, you felt the ghost of a connection between you two forming. 

Forgetful you kept the pencil in your bag after school and never returned it to Suna; he never asked for it back, anyways. 

A WRINKLED, OLD SHEET OF PAPER WITH A STICKER ON IT.

“Let’s see… that’s one, two, and three. Three mandarin oranges you’ve brought for lunch. And for what?” 

You stayed silent in embarrassment, eyes darting between Suna and Osamu in front of you, staring at the oranges perched on your desk. Lunch time was always entertaining, yet somehow embarrassing, for you. 

“One for each of you,” you explained, surprisingly without stammering. You placed a mandarin orange in their hands, which they began peeling right away. You removed the sticker on the peel of your orange, placing it on the piece of paper you had out on your desk. 

With a piece of the orange in his mouth, Osamu asked, “So, how are we going to do this project? Most of it requires work outside of school.” In response you and Suna remained quiet, thinking about what to do. Osamu then grabbed the paper on which you placed the sticker of your orange and handed it to Suna.

“Write your number on it, Suna. We’ll communicate better.” As Suna kept his head down while writing his phone number, Osamu turned towards you subtly and gave a slight raise of his eyebrows as a way to tell you just what exactly he was doing. You returned the smallest of smirks, as you knew he would want you to pay him back in one way or another. 

When Suna gave the paper back to you, he muttered out loud, “It’s not like we’re gonna actually do shit with our project. But it’ll be nice talking with you anyways.”

You straightened your back a little bit— to which he reciprocated, yet this passes your attention— and you felt yourself ease into the conversation, letting his lax nature take over you. You grinned, as you told him you thought the same. In the midst of this, you folded the paper you received and tucked it snug into the pocket of your jacket. 

Later in the evening, perhaps at around midnight when you were cooped up in your bedroom, you decided to set Suna’s contact into your phone. You hadn’t known your hands were shaking as you did so; the realization only hit when you found yourself accidentally calling him. Much to your surprise, he answered. 

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to call you,” you told him, panic evident in your words. 

Though he himself showed no signs of tiredness, he told you, “It’s, like, midnight. You should go to sleep now.” You pursed your lips, eyes slowly moving around your room to find something on which to fixate your attention. 

After a moment’s worth of hesitation, you replied, “Shouldn’t you, too? You don’t sound tired at all.” 

“Love, I always sound tired. I’m perpetually tired.” You laughed at his words, masking the fluster from his slipping in a little pet name for you. Tension left your body as you once again relaxed into his voice, slightly distorted from the feedback of the phone. 

“You should rest.”

“And so should you.”

A ROLL OF ATHLETIC TAPE.

Checking the contents of your bag when you arrived, you were certain that the roll of athletic tape was stowed away in the hidden pocket. It seemed like the fluttering of your heart was a constant whenever you were to cheer Rintarou on at his games, and you hoped it was just all the walking you had to do to reach the gym at which they were located. 

When you entered the gym, you found your school cheering on the team, composed and intimidating as always. You didn’t want to come to conclusions, but you thought Rintarou had his eyes on the door since he stepped foot in the gym, because you locked eye contact with him as soon as you found him among his teammates. Subtly and slowly, he made his way towards you with a bored expression on his face, masking the fluster with which he would carry to the grave. 

The night before, you had told Rintarou that you were to tape his fingers, for you were afraid that he might injure his calloused hands once again. You kept your gaze down at the ground, observing how your feet compared in size to his, noting all the small details on his shoes, and comparing the cleanliness of his shoes to yours— anything it took for you not to look him in the eye, though you knew his eyes bore into yours. 

His fixated gaze on you made your hands feel clammy, making it hard to tape his fingers. It was an awkward, yet intimate moment between the two of you as you held his hands in yours, stabilizing them as you taped his fingers together, bandaging and protecting them against the hard spikes he would have to block.

When you finished, your eyes trailed upwards and into his own, and you muttered that you had. 

“Thanks,” was all he said. 

A JACKET. 

You didn’t want to think about how this situation even came to happen; it seemed like it was straight out of some shoujou manga on your bookshelf. It was a sunny day— emphasis on the was. Osamu, Rintarou, and you were walking home from school that day and after Osamu had left, a downpour came upon the two of you. You and Rintarou were left to take shelter underneath a shaded area in the nearby park. 

You were shuddering, being almost soaked with rain water. Next to you was the boy you loved, even if he kept sending mixed signals, telling you this on one day and that the next. He sat on the park bench, hunched over, as if he were deep in thought. In his peripheral vision he watched you shiver from the cold. 

In a second you felt a weight over you. It was Rintarou’s jacket, though equally as soaked as yours, but you warmed at the generosity. The both of you stayed silent. 

“I like you.”

You turned to him. “Say that again?”

He reciprocated your actions, eyes glaring into yours to the point you were afraid he was messing with your feelings. 

“I… Like… You.” He pointed to you, as if you still hadn’t understood what he meant. “You. I have feelings for you. Are there any other ways I should say it?”

You paused, letting a wave of confidence that you were to regret later wash over you, and you told him, “Yes: like this.” 

You scooted yourself closer to Rintarou, and plant a kiss on his cheek, wet from the rain. He cupped your cheek, bringing you closer to him, and he softly placed his lips over yours. 

━━━━━━━━━━☆

“You done reminiscing?” 

You were brought out of your trance by the man behind you, leaning against the frame of the door. Smiling at him, you set the jacket back into the cardboard box and stood up to wrap yourself in your fiancee’s arms. 

“I’m moving out of my house; how could I not reminisce?”

Rintarou nestled his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. “You’re right, I guess.” He gazed over at the items in the box. “Aren’t those things mine?” 

He let go of you and walked towards your prized possessions, and you followed shortly after, claiming that they’re yours. 

“No, no,” he said, “These are mine. Look!” He held up his jacket. “I gave this to you that one time when it was raining. That was the day I first told you I loved you.” 

Flustered, you retorted, “Well, technically, you said you liked me, but I guess there was the undertone of love when you first said that.” 

Rintarou knelt down to pick up the wrinkled paper with his phone number and the sticker on it. “This isn’t even my number anymore. Some rando probably has it now.” 

As you knelt down next to him, you pointed to the little sticker in the corner. “Well, that’s not yours,” you said.

“Those are one of those stickers found on fruits, or something like that.”

@wiintiier

[a-la-la-llama]

The One Where Marinette Meets Her 2nd Wayne #6

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 7

  Panic. Panic wasn’t an uncommon feeling but one that was not welcomed. She had felt it everyday in Paris. The alarms with their high pitched screeches alerting everyone of the danger. That it was time for their heroes’ to come out and save the day like every time beforehand. Akuma alarms were something she was all for but the sounds they made terrified Marinette to her core. Yet, this wasn’t what was causing her to freak out. No, it was something else entirely but the same amount of panic.

Marinette was running late to school. Her first day of school.

You would think she would have kicked the habit but Marinette still couldn’t get her life together enough to wake up with her alarm.

‘Maybe she should change the ringtone to an akuma alarm? That would surely get her out of bed.”, she thought while hopping down the sidewalk pulling her sock up.

Once secured just below her knee, Marinette took off into a sprint towards her school.

‘If I changed it into an akuma alarm I might transform and jump out my window half-asleep.’, she reasoned with herself.

Slowing her speed down to a fast walk, Marinette started her way towards her first class. She had just toured this god-forsaken building and couldn’t remember for the life of her where to go! Everything looked so different with students now in the hallways, most taller than her. Seriously, what did people in America eat? Everyone looked like they grew like weeds.

Focus! She stared at her schedule shuffling her feet to ensure she didn’t trip. Shifting her gaze just above the paper to avoid bodies coming towards her Marinette began to commit it to memory. There must have been a crowd because she got stuck behind people not walking and had to maneuver her way past all of them. What she didn’t realize was that they were surrounding someone. Then she walked straight into that someone.

///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~///~

  Damian was anything but a ‘happy camper’ this morning. Jon had left that summer on some out of this world mission for who knows how long. His father no longer wanted him to attend the school the two had previously gone to and transferred him to one closer to home. It was his first year of high school and to add to it, he was given the task of babysitting one of Selina’s pets. So no, he was not looking forward to this school year. As if it couldn't get worse, many of Gotham’s Academy's students knew of his name and decided that the best way to interact was to gawk. Seriously, Damian was only rich; it's not like he was an idol or something. He was trudging his way to his class when he felt something ram straight into his back.

‘Breath. Father would be disappointed if you snapped at a fellow student on the first day’, he told himself. Luckily, the person who ran into him spoke before he could insult her.

  Marinette was panicking. Again! Isn't she carrying the goddess of luck in her backpack? Why is her life so unlucky? Not only did she bump into someone, they were super tall compared to her. They were also the person the crowd had been surrounding. Which in turn meant they were important. So what did Marinette do?

“Je suis vraiment désolé monsieur! Je ne voulais pas faire ça, mais je dois y aller!”, she rushed out before walking past him.

( Translation: I'm very sorry sir! I didn't mean to do that, but I must get going! )

Why did she speak in French! Stupid fight or flight instincts making her switch to her native language. Hopefully no one paid attention and wouldn’t question her on it. Cover story, cover story, think of your cover story. Oh who was she kidding, Marinette couldn’t lie to save her life!

  She calmed down before entering the classroom. The desks were the standard science class tables and you were supposed to sit with a partner much like Ms. Mendeleive’s class back in Paris. Most students already knew others from previous grades so it would be easier for her to stay out of peoples ways for now. Her mind drifted back to Paris as she claimed an empty seat. They would have already started school last week. Could they be struggling on the information? Hawkmoth interrupted a lot of school days with his akuma’s. Then again, it was only Ms. Bustier’s class that ever ran off then followed the school's protocols. Alya who would risk anything for the scoop. Lila or Cholé would run because they would be the main targets. Her and Adrien would have run to transform and defeat them.

Marinette knew the Kwami magic protected their identity but she still kicked herself for not recognizing it until Adrien detransformed in front of her. He was very upset that she took his ring without giving him her identity. Adrien eventually understood that as Grand Guardian it would be a liability.

  The bell ringing drew her back to reality as she turned back to what the teacher was saying.

“ Good morning, everyone! I’m Ms. Jones and I’ll be your Pre-AP Biology teacher this year. I’ll call roll while you guys get out your science journals! Be sure to say ‘here’ when I say your name.”, she explained.

Marinette pulled her black bag onto her lap and smiled as she took out the 3-subject spiral. The Kwami’s had encouraged her to make a bag to carry the box back in Paris. It was a simple backpack but had the symbol for each Kwami. Tikki explained the symbols were forms of blessings. Like how Master Fu’s box actually represented prosperity in Chinese culture. Each Kwami symbol gave her blessings, like good luck and protection with Tikki and Wayzz. It even had a false bottom where the condensed version of her Ladybug egg fit. Neither she nor the kwami’s wanted to leave it at the apartment all day. So she sewed some extra material to cover it and put all her school supplies on top. Setting it back down under her desk, she flipped to the first page of her journal. She said here when her name was called and tuned out until Ms. Jones started speaking again.

  “Now that I have taken attendance, feel free to talk to your neighbor while I hand out this year's syllabus! These will be your seats until the end of the six-weeks.”, the teacher announced. This would have been fine for Marinette if it wasn’t for who decided to sit next to her. She turned in her seat to meet the boy from the hallway.

“Je m'appelle Damian. Ravi de vous rencontrer.”, he said. In French.

“I can speak English. My name is Marinette, again sorry for running into you! There were just so many people, some weren’t even moving and I wasn’t paying attention and I am rambling. Sorry.”, she muttered with a shy smile at the end.

“It’s quite alright. May I ask what caused the language change? Usually I make the mistake when I am passionate about something. Though, I don’t think you are passionate about apologizing.”, Damian asked.

  This could go two ways. She could admit she was terrified of him or play it cool and stick to her backstory?

The latter of the two for sure!

“This is my first time in Amer- real school! I have been homeschooled until now. I got nervous about what I was supposed to say, overthinked, and reverted to my first language.”, Marinette explained.

He let out a hum as the teacher put the syllabus on their desk with information on the class, tutorials, and how to contact her. They were told to glue or tape it onto the first page.

“So, your language trigger is the feeling of being overwhelmed. How many do you know?”, he asked.

“I guess you could say that. For sure French, English, and Mandarin. I learned the basics of Japanese and Vietnamese for old acquaintances. Oh, and Italian because of my grandmother!”, she exclaimed. The Guardian language couldn’t be mentioned but that made seven.

  That’s what they did in their free time. The two talked about everything they knew and had learned. Turns out they both were ahead than normal students, but Marinette knew she was anything but normal. They actually had five of the seven classes together. Neither he or she knew sign-language so that was deemed a fun class to Marinette. American school was not as bad as Marinette had thought it would be as she walked to work.

  She tied her apron on before starting her task of meeting each plant's needs. The Daisies were already complaining about how thirsty they were and begged to be water.

“Ah, Hello Mari-gold! Wasn’t today your first day of school?”, Ivy questioned.

Marinette grabbed the water mister, “Yup!”

‘Well, how was it? Harley and Selina would want to know.”, she continued.

“Hmm. It was great! The clubs will be opening in two weeks so I plan to join an art one. Do we have more plant food in the back?”, Marinette said.

“Yes, just behind flower pots. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”, answered Ivy.

“I think I’ll have to start packing lunch, however. I know it’s an academy but the cafeteria food is still terrible.”, she joked.

“Yeah, I think it’s just a school thing. Oh, that reminds me, Harley wants to bake more of those cookies with you. I quote, ‘I would totally adopt her if we had more room at our place just for cookies.’ She has a serious love of chocolate chips!”, sighed out Ivy.

“While the thought is nice, I have to decline the adoption. How does Friday sound?”, Marinette laughed.

“Perfect!”

Guess What! I actually have the outline for this story and how it will end and everything! Now I just have to write it all... T . T

Tag List

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[chalkrevelations]

OK, so, episode reax of WoH Ep 4 is briefly delayed – may be out Sunday, but more likely post M-W workweek. It is coming. Meanwhile, have some more Street Dance of China? S3, Ep 2.

First of all, I have to say that if I had any way of figuring out what some of this music is, I’d have a new Spotify playlist 300 songs long.

ANYWAY, we get a recap of … Wang Yibo being incredulous about coming in last place in a dance competition. Wang Yibo vowing to get back the three colorful towels he lost by coming in last place in a dance competition and therefore can’t use to send three more of his team’s dancers on to the next round. Hip-hop freestyle battles for TOWELS. Wang Yibo getting his colorful towels back. Ridiculous unnecessary drama over whether Lay Zhang is going to win his battle and get EVEN MORE colorful towels, given his competition is Wallace Chung (oh dear. that was kind of blunt.). And that’s what you missed on Glee Street Dance of China 3 Ep 1.

 Snapshots of what’s coming up this week: Everyone has shot their wad on towels and is sweating the fact that they have 59 more dancers they want to send through to the next round and a single towel left. (I TOLD YOU SO. ALL OF YOU.) The only way to get more towels is to battle for them. A hip-hop battle has NEVER BEEN SO IMPORTANT.

Cutting here, I guess, for ridiculously detailed nattering. Hashtag long post (remorseful):

Team Lay Zhang: First of all, Lay Zhang, I just have to note that you’re getting an edit that doesn’t make you look like the brightest bulb in the box. I don’t know if this is just the edit, or if it’s … well. You. I guess we’ll see as the season goes on. Also, in the interim, I have found out that you also are Zhang Yixing, which a lot of your fandom seems to actually call you, so should I call you Yixing instead of Lay? You seem to be going by Lay for this show, so it seems polite to stick to that? Anyway. Gongsun Wu Ming & Hei Zai start us off this episode, and they get off to a little bit of a slow start, but once they pick up, they’ve got a lot of nice air in their moves, that effortless(-looking) almost anti-gravity effect that good breakers can get. Then we almost immediately get a series of ok, that’s fine, oh, wait, no, THAT is actually pretty mediocre poppers, none of whom gets a towel, thank god, because the supply has to be running low. And then Teng Zai appears, claiming to be the best popper, and … OK. OK, alright. Fine. He might be right. His technique and control are fantastic, but you want to know what really sells me, in the middle of this generally fantastic performance? It’s that series of chest pops followed by the little heart held out right on the fk’n music. It’s little details like that, that make or break a performance, and he pulled it off beautifully. I went back to re-watch, it was so slick, yet so charming. OK, maybe I went back to watch more than once. You can’t prove anything. (Also, he gets called their little “Ares” - in quotes, in the subs – by other contestants, more than once, but I can’t pick out the actual sound of that name, which makes me think the subbers have inserted “Ares” as something that will give the flavor of what he’s actually being called. My 1st level Duolingo Mandarin is absolutely not enough to figure out what people are actually calling him, so is there anyone who’s able to give me some insight, here?) Aaaand, Towel Battle 1 (see Footnote 1). Post-battle, we’ve reached the point when all the captains are sweating their lack of towels, so e’rybody is just going to have to battle for towels from here on out. Yuan Ye faces Momo, and a little bit, this is where I expect the knife fight to start (Momo’s bringing the knife). I’m honestly not that impressed with either of them and probably would have saved my towel for someone else, but Lay Zhang decides to send them both through, so what’s the point of a battle to begin with? BUT THEN (dun-dun-dun) some dude calling himself Bon shows up to really cut a bitch, waves away both Yuan Ye and Momo to the sidelines, describes himself as “a boom” and proceeds to give a performance that imo is kind of mushy and all over the place. Lay Zhang looks a little taken aback as Bon sort of grinds up on him but can’t even really commit to that, just before Lin Zi Jie shows up. Lay Zhang makes Zi Jie change his coat - thank god, because you can’t see half of what he’s doing and he actually seems like the most towel-worthy performance out of this whole cluster of flail – and asks for a freestyle battle, which turns out to not be that great on Bon’s or Zi Jie’s parts, actually. I feel like the dance vocabulary here is kind of limited, and we’re left with a bunch of hip-shaking, grinding, and supposedly seductive looks, which is NOT going to cut it in the battles we’ve seen already. Towels to Momo and Zi Jie, rather than putting them in reserve and waiting to see who else shows up, which I think is probably a mistake, but OK, I’m not a pop idol with the clout to star on this show, so. (I know what I like to watch, tho’, and none of that was it.) A promise to Yuan Ye that she gets a Battle Towel. Time for Towel Battle 3 (See Footnote 3).

Team Wallace Chung: So, first off, there’s George, who dances before he’ll introduce himself, and I guess I have to respect a guy who’s going to let his performance be his introduction. And then we get a series of OK that’s fine but not really great poppers, and Wallace, unlike Lay, is handing out towels like candy. OK, my man. If that’s really what you want to do, I guess, but it doesn’t seem like the greatest idea to me. You’re also really fucking with the morale of the dancers who haven’t performed yet, who are gradually realizing that you’re going to run out of towels before you even get to them. Hilariously (for me, if not the contestants), I paused at this point to go refresh my bourbon and managed to freeze on a random contestant, identified as Wei Ming - who I don’t know if we’ll ever get to see actually perform, but he deserves the bolded name for this, alone – looking baffled and concerned, with the English subtitle on his comment reading “Sir, what are you thinking?” I suspect he is not using “Sir” in the sense that I use it when my cat (or Zhang Zhehan) has done something appallingly adorable, but rather when the cat has knocked yet another gd pen off my desk while I’m trying to take notes, just to be a bastard for attention. (OTOH, I guess if you weren’t one of the dancers bold enough to swarm up there in the first couple of hours, you take what you get. Fortuna fortes adiuvat.) We finally get to Lin Meng, whose reputation precedes him, but seriously, if Wallace is just handing out towels to every popper, what does it even mean? Wallace – Wallace – proceeds to basically call Lin Meng an old man before making him bargain for a towel, which is a shame, because Lin Meng deserves to get not only this towel but the four towels you just gave away to some guys who should still be holding Lin Meng’s jacket, Wallace. I mean, seriously, this guy’s technique is fantastic. Even if he does fumble his jacket lapel that one time. Aaaand, Towel Battle 1 (see Footnote 1). Post battle, we get A.K. Dong, who’s got some excellent musicality and a face that apparently resembles a variety show star (Hank Chen?). I mean, I guess it gets him noticed, but it sucks that it seems to overshadow his dancing, because he’s really good. Then we notice our towels are running low, and everybody is just going to have to battle it out. Wallace promises the Battle Towel to some dude who we don’t see perform and don’t get a name for, and with my prognisticatory skills, I’m going to say we won’t need to know his name, because this is the last we’ll see of him. Time for Towel Battle 3 (See Footnote 3).

Team Wang Yibo: First up, we get Bing, whose reputation precedes him, prompting other teams to look around and wonder what all the commotion is about. Bing has a motorbike moment with Yibo, before giving a performance that starts off the tiniest bit mushy before he puts some fantastic technique on display. Yibo pulls out his Perpetual Student schtick and asks for some freestyle with some motorbike elements, which at first makes me suspect you might be fucking with this guy just a little bit, Yibo, but Bing is both game and versatile, and he eventually gets his towel, along with a wish from Yibo to ride together sometime, and oh. (As we say, in A Very Significant Tone, on AO3.) All of that was flirting. OK. On the heels of Yibo giving me yet another clue as to his taste in men, we roll into a seriously uncomfortable segment that stomps all over my embarrassment squick because they’ve cut together several women to look desperate and starstruck and comical and dumb, while Yibo looks increasingly uncomfortable, and I am super not down with this, show. I’ll admit that from what we can see, none of them are great dancers, but I suspect there were a lot of not-great male dancers, too, and I just. Ick. This was unnecessary, you haven’t done it to any of the other captains, and it frankly doesn’t make Yibo look that great, when you set his reactions here against the fact that not only have we not seen approval from him for any female contestants so far, but this segment is the only interaction we’ve seen from him with any female contestants so far. Hard on the heels of this segment, we get Chick, who is very good when he wants to be but also super-extra and annoying, and who fucks around more than he really dances, but the audience seems charmed with him, and Yibo doesn’t give him any of the smackdown he deserves, which doesn’t improve my impression of the previous segment, given the varied ways Yibo iced out some of the women. Meanwhile, Jackson Wang strolls over, and Yibo acts super weird about it, for a guy who was the first one to wander into someone else’s territory, which was – oh, yeah, I remember, Jackson’s – to watch his dancers, and Jackson says that he would give Chick a towel before heading back to his own street, and then Yibo does, even though he fucks with him a little bit first, and then there’s a bit of footage cut in of Yibo making dumbass excuses for this guy, so. I’m not entirely feeling you right now, Yibo. Also, all of this is certainly doing nothing to disabuse me of the notion that you’re about 1000000x more comfortable in homosocial situations, for whatever reason. Anyway, we then get a montage of Yibo handing out some towels to various dancers (including a woman, finally, although she’s intercut with some other people and doesn’t actually get a full segment of her own), and then we get Tao and Cici, who are both good, but Yibo now discovers that he only has three towels and there are two people standing in front of him, so he gives a towel to Tao and promises one to Cici after the next towel battle, which, yeah, Tao is probably better, but this is a hell of time to decide to be circumspect with your towels, Yibo, when you can leave a woman sitting on the sidelines but send her husband through to the next round. :hands: Anyway, it’s time for Towel Battle 2 (See Footnote 2), and I do have to give Yibo props, again, for his teambuilding, because he takes a minute to say, hey, there aren’t a lot of towels left, and there are quite a few of you, so what we’re going to do is all go over there together, and get another towel, as a team. Post-battle, Yibo is still concerned about his lack of towels, and everyone left is going to have to battle it out, although, frankly, the way Yibo’s been going on about how much he likes battles, I sort of think he might secretly be a tiny bit excited about this. He ends up putting person after person into reserve, waiting to see everyone, probably, and then Meng Di shows up, and she’s already got the rest of the group behind her. They know her, they know she has cochlear implants, they respond immediately when she shushes them so she can hear Yibo and the music, they call for the DJ to turn up the music for her, they clap together to emphasize the beat. She’s smart enough to keep six feet between her and Yibo while she dances, so that she doesn’t spook him like the fragile and shy homosocial forest creature he apparently is. She immediately gets her cha cha on when her battle partner holds out his hand to lead her out for her turn. Good technique, even though there are a few bobbles. None of these four performances in the final battle are the best we’ve seen so far, but they’re solid. Yibo is clearly torn about what to do with his one towel, although the audience starts getting kind of insistent that he needs a waacker, and a female waacker at that, and he ends up making Bullet and Meng Di battle again. She’s performing for the audience at this point – I mean, she’s not even pretending about it, she spends most of this round facing them, with her back to Yibo - and she’s also versatile, genre-wise, so I think we can all see where this is going. I think he really wanted to give that towel to Bullet, who definitely is very good, but he knew that he’s painted himself into a corner where he ought to give it to Meng Di, so that he’s got some genre-versatility on the team, if nothing else. Towel to Meng Di, and a promise to Bullet to win another Battle Towel for him. Time for Towel Battle 3 (See Footnote 3).

Team Jackson Wang: First up is Bai, who apparently is a favorite from season one, but I haven’t seen season one – or season two - so I don’t have any history on any of these people. Bai is doing a bit, here, but he’s also generally got some good technique, so OK. Why are they blurring out his left wrist, though? Yang Yu Ting is really good, some more good technique, good musicality. And then we’re already on to Towel Battle 2 (See Footnote 2). Post-battle, we get Shen Kai Xiang, who apparently looks A LOT like Jack Ma, which seems to be little bit like if some Bill Gates-lookin’ mf’r showed up to audition for SYTYCD. Lyrical; good technique; much like Bai, appears to be doing a bit. And, then, as with all the captains, the dearth of towels sets in, and Jackson is going to put everyone in the gladiator ring and make them battle it out. Maybe we can win another Battle Towel. Time for Towel Battle 3 (See Footnote 3).

***

Footnote 1, AKA Towel Battle 1, Team Lay Zhang vs. Team Wallace Chung, 3v3: Team Lay Zhang is San Jin, who they throw up some B-roll on, since the show has spent no time on him so far although he seems to be in cahoots with Xiao Bao (see Ep 1 recap); Gongsun Wu Ming, who’s spoiling for a battle after no one would take him up on it during his initial performance; and Teng Zai, because I mean, come on. Team Wallace Chung is Lin Meng, which should be interesting, since he and Teng Zai are apparently from the same crew, George, and Qin Yu, who we not only haven’t seen before this, that I can remember, but don’t even get B-roll on while Wallace is talking strategy, unlike the other two. Qin Yu, this does not bode well for your future on the show, if they’re not even bothering to give you B-roll, let alone an edit. Both captains are very weird about introducing their dancers, like these guys are some big surprise and aren’t going to dance in front of everybody in a minute and half, anyway. Possibly this is some kind of attempt at a dominance display? I don’t know. It’s won by the host, anyway, who eventually enforces his will and gets some introductions out of the captains. Anyway, Gongsun is up first for Team Lay Zhang, and this dude is just fun to watch, with great musicality and flow, and Wallace’s face while watching him is a picture, let me tell you. He’s up on Qin Yu almost immediately, possibly sensing the weakest link of Team Wallace? Team Wallace counters with George, who’s not having any of that, and gets the first point for his team. Second round, Teng Zai is once again impeccable, so even though someone has lit a fire under George, who spends half his time upside down, he nevertheless loses the point to Teng Zai. Round three, Teng Zai and Lin Meng face off, and they’ve both got great technique, although I feel like Lin Meng has a slight edge there, but I also think Teng Zai did a better job of showcasing strength and control, so I’m not surprised when the judges go for another round, in which Teng Zai is still super-fun to watch and definitely on his game, but Lin Meng steps up with some incredible precision, so I’m a little surprised when the judges give it (unanimously) to Teng Zai and Team Lay Zhang. One more round, and Teng Zai … is maybe wearing down a little bit, coasting on this one, and oh, hey, we’re finally going to get to see Qin Yu, who has some nice fluidity but maybe doesn’t really match up to Teng Zai in the charisma department, which may be why we haven’t seen him before this, and also why he loses the round. Round, battle, and two towels to Team Lay Zhang, and we still haven’t seen more than 15 seconds of B-roll of San Jin. But wait! There’s still a moment to be had, in which Teng Zai suggests donating one of their towels to Team Wallace, namechecks love and peace as a vital part of street dance, and quite possibly cements his place in my – and everyone else’s - heart. Both sides go home with a towel.

Footnote 2, AKA Towel Battle 2, Team Wang Yibo vs. Team Jackson Wang, 3v3 captain-led battle: Oh, they get to choose a song for each other. This should be interesting. I feel like there’s some shit-talking going on here, although I’m not really equipped to catch it and am at the mercy of the subtitles. Does Jackson really ask Yibo, “You WERE a dancer when you were young?” because lol. And Yibo is all, “Eh, kind of?” I do love how neither of them can hold still for songs two and three. So, Team Yibo is also Bing and Tao, while Team Jackson is also Bai and Ting. The thing that strikes me immediately during the minute or so that they get to plan and quickly choreograph is that Team Yibo has everyone there – there’s no point during this planning stage that the entire crew isn’t involved. They’re all part of this. Meanwhile, Team Jackson is just the three of them, separate from everybody, working out their choreography. The whole-team approach IMMEDIATELY pays off, when Team Yibo slams out of the gate with an energy and power and fullness to their performance that Yibo will later comment is fueled by the atmosphere that the dancers at the back create, and he’s right, it’s just like a wave of pressure pushing them forward, not even getting into the fact that the three people actually in the battle are fucking good. Team Jackson is also good, but they don’t feel like a team, the crew in the back doesn’t seem to have it together, and the loss of that – it has an impact. No surprise that Round 1 goes to Team Yibo and their Attitude, which is like an entire fourth dancer on its own. Round two coming up, and the entire Team Yibo is still involved in the planning stages, Yibo’s flannel has come off and we’re down to T-shirt sleeves, and Tao is surprising me not only with his moves – I honestly didn’t expect him to come as hard as he does, given he and Cici were more lyrical in their initial performance – but in his killer instinct, because he’s the one who suggests getting up in Jackson’s face, lit. and fig., by yoinking one of his signature moves. Meanwhile, Yibo is playing gay chicken, and it is just as great an idea as it sounds like (and this is that performance that a clip of it was making the rounds a few months ago); meanwhile Jackson is going high (?) concept, and that is just as bad an idea as it sounds like, although he does attempt some charming self-deprecation when it’s all over (also, omg, one of the contestant reactions later is that he’s “short of brain trust.” I’m not actually sure what the most eloquent way to translate that comment would have been, but it certainly gets an idea across.) Chick actually earns his pay in one of the best moments of the battle that – as much as I hate to encourage it – actually does profit off his general air of douchery, Team Jackson continues to lack the kind of cohesive team feel that Team Yibo is bringing – and second round, battle, and towel to Team Yibo. THIS is the advantage of team-building from the very first minute. Also, fuck, Yibo and the dancers he’s collected are good. Technically, yes, but also, the auditions are getting kind of interminable, but after this battle, I’m excited again, and that kind of audience reaction is a good measure of whether your dancing is successful. (Towel goes to Cici, btw, which, yeah, Tao did fucking earn that for her, so I’m glad you came through on your promise to her, Yibo.)

Footnote 3, AKA Towel Battle 3, all four captains. Cypher. Four rounds. Everyone else’s face when the cypher is announced:  D:   Yibo’s face when the cypher is announced:  >:D  They each get to choose a style of music. Wallace chooses locking. Yibo and Jackson both choose hip-hop. Lay Zhang chooses krump. Yibo’s already moving before the music even starts, to whatever music lives inside his head. The music actually starts, and Yibo is in the center before anyone else gets the chance (probably before anyone else can get up their nerve …) My sound drops out right here, which, wtf, but I can still tell Yibo’s throwing down the gauntlet. He’s beatable, but not by anybody who’s going to coast. Also, goddam, he has legs for days. Lay Zhang is in next, with some good speed and power and crispness to his moves, although I’m having trouble taking that cap with the fake dreads seriously. It’s … actually super interfering with me getting on board with your vibe, my dude. Jackson’s up next, and he has somehow managed to bring my sound back, and he also lands, frankly, the best forward Salto we’ve seen from anyone so far this season, which I have to admit even though he is my inexplicable mortal enemy. Yibo and Wallace, ffs, ice him out in the follow-up, although he then does the same thing to Lay, so who tf knows what’s going on with the actual interpersonals between these guys and what’s for show, at this point. Wallace finally gets his turn and is super-game but horribly out-classed. Yibo gives him props anyway, which, good on you for respecting your elders and their efforts, I guess, baby, but let’s all admit that was an “E” for effort. Judges are frantically scribbling their points down as round 2/4 begins, and Yibo is the first one in the middle, again, and wtf gdi my sound really picks this point to drop out again? I feel like Youku may be fucking with me, at this point. ANYWAY, Yibo is finally, actually all in, and he’s got a fantastic Harlem shake, it’s like his joints are barely connected. I honestly could watch this boy dance all day, that’s how smooth he looks. Here’s the thing about Yibo, and it’s something the other captains haven’t yet achieved, or have only accomplished in slivers of time – he makes me want to dance, too. I watch him, and I want to be doing what he’s doing. You could say that he literally, not just figuratively or emotionally, moves me. And his ability to stoke that is something I really appreciate. Jackson Wang is up next and is pretty good, but I’m honestly more impressed with Lay Zhang, who manages to look almost like he’s being special-effected, that’s how staccato he gets at his best in this round. Wallace dances. The other captains are polite about it. More scribbling from the judges. Jackson’s the first one out there in round three, and he’s honestly looking the least tired of all of them. Stamina is maybe an issue, here. Even with Jackson, some of the finer control is gone. Y’all are maybe a little soft? How long has it been since any of you idols had to endure the workout of an entire concert? There’s a whole ‘nother round to go after this, so you better get your oxygen masks. Lay Zhang is still fairly crisp and pulls off a literal hat trick, although he’s doing a lot more upper body work that lets him stand in place than he is actually moving around. Jackson, with his baby boy enthusiasm and energy, is magnanimous enough to fill up some of Wallace’s time by “pulling” him into the center and then getting out there and dancing with him. I am old enough that I understand what Wallace is going through, but there’s just a noticeable difference in ability, here. Yibo is clearly waiting until last this time, to those of us paying scrupulous attention, although it’s nothing too obvious, and it does buy him enough time that he’s basically recovered by the time he gets back into the middle of the circle, although he’s a little less expansive than he’s been in the previous two rounds. So, strategic, then, too. Judges scribble as we move into the last round. No time for weakness, all of you. DID YOU HEAR ME, because most of you are looking, to be frank, just a little bit WEAK as you circle around and hang out on the edges and try to get your breath and energy back. I’m just sayin’. Lay takes the hit first, and he’s really trying, although he’s not as strong as he was back in the second round. I’m a little bit afraid he might fall over by the end of it. Yibo is sweating but pulls some random dude’s hat right off his head before … at least going all in, even if he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, krump-wise. He ends by falling on the ground, in a credible WWX-passing-the-fuck-out imitation, which is probably a relief, by that point. Jackson probably has the most energy left, although he’s reduced to pulling off his shirt and posing by the end of his time. Wallace does some dancing. Look. I’m just going to leave it at that. Jackson is still being polite enough to encourage his elder. It’s maybe a little bit endearing. Final result is that Lay Zhang wins, which. OK. I would have placed him second, after Yibo, but I also seem to remember that he won the initial captains’ performance, back in Ep 1, so I guess I can’t be too surprised at this, based on trends. Show director was apparently so impressed, he’s gonna give up four extra towels, one to each captain, which means Lay gets two towels. So I guess towels go to Yuan Ye on Team Lay Zhang and Bullet on team Wang Yibo, if they keep their promises, although don’t know who Wallace and Jackson are planning on giving their extra towels to.

Next ep: Mystery Guest.

[nolanhollogay]

you’ve unlocked nate’s tragic backstory congrats!! @juliesdahlias @richitozier @witchofinterest

cw: talk of sex in the beginning (nothing explicit and nothing happens but u know i dont want anyone to be uncomfy), talk of and descriptions of child abuse, blood and stabbing

-

"No," Dick grumbled, glaring down at him. He was sitting on Nate's thighs, his legs tucked underneath himself as he frowned in playful displeasure.

Nate whined. "Why not?" he asked, walking his fingers up the inseam of Dick's jeans. His nails were painted a pretty purple color at Rachel's request and they looked exceptionally lovely against the dark blue denim.

Dick grabbed his hand to stop it's wandering. His palm was warm around Nate’s cold fingers. "It's 3pm." 

"Time isn't real. It's a man made construct," Nate countered, tangling their fingers together. He didn't even really care all that much about having sex anymore, he just liked to argue.

"That doesn't mean we don't have to follow it," Dick said, rolling his eyes. 

"So what? We can only have sex after 8pm? We're not straight people, Richard."

Dick laughed, face lighting up in surprise and Nate's heart sang.

"No, we’re not, but like, calm down. Wait a bit. You're like a rabbit," he said, kissing Nate's forehead. Nate smiled and pulled him into a kiss with a hand on the back of his neck.

"I have a pair of bunny ears, if you're into the kind of thing," he joked against his mouth, just to hear him laugh again. 

Dick tried to keep the kiss calm and sweet but Nate didn't really have the patience for that. He slid his tongue between Dick's teeth, pulling him closer by his hair. Dick, for all of his protesting before, didn't seem too upset about it.

-

Nate had just gotten Dick's shirt off, throwing it to the floor, when his bedroom door opened.

He let out a loud annoyed groan at being interrupted. He couldn't handle any more robbers or people who wanted to beat him up. He really needed to invest in a better lock

He looked over Dick's shoulder and groaned again when he saw his father standing there. He was wearing a god awful trench-coat that was the color of olives and an unimpressed look. He looked older then when Nate had seen him last, around ten months ago over a Skype call. His hair was more gray than black and there were more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. 

What was he even doing here?

Nate pushed Dick out of his lap causing him to grunt in surprise. "Hi Dad," he said, forcing a smile. It probably looked as fake as it felt.

"I guess I know why you weren't answering my text messages," Nate's father said with a hint of a smile. Dick went pink in the face and grabbed his shirt from the ground, pulling it back on.

Nate shrugged. He'd been ignoring his father's texts for months for a variety of reasons. He'd seen the texts about him visiting that morning but assumed it meant some time in the near future, not that day.

Nate's father cleared his throat, looking between him and Dick with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Nate made a noise of annoyance in the back of his throat. He didn't want to introduce them. He wanted them to stay so far away from each other that they didn't know the other existed.

"Dick, this is my father. Dad, this is my boyfriend, Dick," he said, gesturing between them with his hand.

Dick smiled, charming but nervous and Nate’s heart turned into liquid despite his growing anger.

"Uh, nice to meet you sir," he said, reaching out to shake his hand. Nate's dad took it, looking less than enthusiastic. When they dropped hands, he looked Dick up and down, taking in his muscle and his messed up hair.

"I don't like him," he said in Mandarin, sending Nate a disapproving look.

Nate rolled his eyes. "I didn't think you would," he replied in English, just to piss him off.

"You could have at least told me you were seeing someone, Minjun," he said, once again in Mandarin.

Nate let out a humorless laugh. There was something dark and sad crawling inside his chest. He felt twitchy and ready to snap, like a caged animal. "Yeah, but then you would have gotten mad at me," he all but growled.

"Why would I be mad at you for dating someone?" his father asked, looking genuinely puzzled. Nate watched the realization hit him and he was given a look so pitying that it made rage dance under his skin. He wanted to bite someone.

"Minjun, I'm not your mother. I'm not going to hurt you or be mad at you for every little thing. You're an adult who's free to make his own decisions," he said. Then he quickly added, "Within reason." Nate scoffed. Of course he decided to switch back to English to say that. 

Nate rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Dick sent him a confused looked, mouth twisted down in a frown.

"Is there anything you needed?" Nate asked, trying not to curl his fists at his sides. Or did he just come over to ruin Nate's day and unearth his trauma for no reason?

His dad shook his head. "No, not right now. But we'll make dinner together tomorrow and talk. I'll call you."

"Okay," Nate replied briskly.

Nate watched him go, seething silently. Dick watched him, eyes locked on the clench of his jaw.

"What just happened?" he asked, voice flooded with concern.

Nate didn’t want to talk about it. "That was my dad," he said vaguely.

Dick rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. "I gathered that, yeah. What was he saying? That stuff about your mom.. And what was he calling you?"

"Minjun. It's my name. My other name. And I don't want to talk about it. Not right now," Nate explained. He still felt caged. He was hit with the urge to break something, like the lamp on his desk.

"Okay. Fine with me," Dick said with a nod and a small smile. Then he asked, "Can I give you a hug?"

Nate laughed despite his rage. "Why are you asking? Freak."

Dick made an annoyed noise. "Because you're all tense. I don't want to touch you if it don't want to be touched."

"You're so soft. It's disgusting,” Nate said, sending him a smile. “Give me a stupid hug."

Dick wrapped his arms around his Nate’s waist, pulling him close. Nate buried his face in his neck, sighing. This was the one place he felt truly comfortable, wrapped in Dick’s strong arms.

-

It wasn’t until much later that Nate brought up his family again. They were lying in his bed, with Nate turned away from Dick, looking out of his window. The moon was full and bright, and he locked his stare onto it to give himself something to focus on as he told Dick his story.

"My mom is shitty,” Nate explained, unprompted. He knew Dick wouldn’t have brought it up again because he said he didn’t want to talk about it, but he needed to get it off his chest. it had been eating at him all day, like a parasite in his stomach. “She used to hit me and burn me with her cigarettes and she hated me. She's the reason I have the scar on my back." 

Dick ran his fingers over it, the raised pink skin that interrupted the smooth expanse of his back. It was a line that was just off center and it would have been perfectly straight if not for the jagged curve at the end.

"What happened?" Dick asked, voice soft. Something cracked in Nate’s chest, but he ignored it.

Nate cleared his throat as the vivid memories hit him. He just had to focus on the moon and ignore the phantom pains. Ignore the feeling of blood trickling down his back and the blade under his skin.

"She, uh, got mad at me for something. I don't remember what, but she pinned me to the kitchen floor and tried to kill me. Said she was gonna rip my heart out from the back so I didn't have to see it,” he said. He remembered the sweetness in her voice as she said. He’d never heard it before that moment and he didn’t like it all. ”She would've gotten farther than she did if my dad hadn't come home from work early. That's why it's crooked at the bottom. Because he yanked her away from me from the side."

Dick mumbled, "Jesus Christ," which made him laugh.

"After that he shipped me out here to the States to live with my uncle when I was like sixteen. To get me away from her and so he didn't have to deal with all my bullshit and trauma. It's why he was trying to be nice earlier. He feels guilty."

Dick kissed his shoulder, wrapping his arm around his waist. "That's so terrible. I'm sorry you had to live through that."

Nate shrugged. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it matters," Dick argued. "That's something that you have to carry with you every day." 

Nate turned around to face him and Dick saw something on his face that made him kiss him, gentle and slow.

“Don’t get all soft on me,” Nate grumbled. “I’m not broken or something. I’m just traumatized and that’s my burden to live with.”

Dick’s eyebrows wrinkled as he thought of how to reply. Nate smoothed the lines out with his pointer finger.

“I love you,” he settled on. “I know we’re both weird about saying it cause we’re our own kinds of emotionally fucked up, but I do. Not just cause you told me about your family or cause you’re a good kisser. And I want you to know that someone loves you unconditionally.”

Nate’s face twisted as his eyes filled with tears. He huffed in anger and embarrassment at his body’s reaction. He wasn’t going to cry over this.

He buried his face in Dick’s chest as he tried to collect himself. “I hate you. You gross me out,” he croaked out.

Dick laughed, Nate feeling it from where his face was pressed against his bare skin. Dick ran his fingers through his hair making him sigh.

“Love you too,” he finally replied as he felt himself starting to drift into sleep.

There was a smile in Dick’s voice as he responded, “I know you do.”

[hoe-for-yukhei]

 BEST FRIEND🌨

HENDERY-READER-LUCAS

Note; I’m not that good at mandarin and korean i’m still studying. Pls forgive me if there’s any grammatical errors or wrong translations,English is not my first language either, please bear with me.

Also yuqi will be mentioned here, she’s kinda bitch in this story so if you don’t like bad yuqi then please skip.

____________________________

What is he doing?

Is he eating?

Does he overwork himself?

Does he miss me?

Those thoughts lingered in your mind since You left to pursue your dream.

You and Lucas are in a Long Distance Relationship.

You in y/c Working Night Shifts in one of the biggest hospitals in your country.

While he’s in Korea and sometimes he travels for World tours and concerts.

You had lost contact with each other so you really can’t help but to worry and miss him.

You were both successful. But something’s missing..

You were a former trainee at SM.You’re close to RED VELVET,NCT,and EXO because you were in their batch and trained with them. 

At first you don’t have any friends.

A foreigner who’s still studying basic Korean language who wants  to be friends with her? You gained acquaintances and small friendships but still don’t have that friend who’s really close, an intimate friend. Until Hendery came into the company,He reminded you of you, Coming from a neighboring country, Doesn’t talk korean,Shy, New, and doesn’t have friends..

You cherished him. You two became best friends. Since he got into training with NCT he started hanging with the other boys which made you proud. You and Hendery counted many years as friends,you discovered new things about each other. One day he invited you to hangout with him and a friend. 

“Oh y/n is here!”

Hendery stood up from where he was sitting.

You didn’t know you guys would be having company.

You dragged Hendery outside the Cafe.

“You didn't tell me about eating with someone, I could have dressed better.”

“What are you saying? You look fine”

“You said It was just the two of us”

“Yeah about that, He was kinda lonely since Mark and others debuted. So I took him with me! You and him will be great friends, he's cool!”

“Alright.”

We walked back to their table. The guy is just sitting there looking at his phone.

“Bàoqiàn ràng nǐ jiǔ děngle wǒmen gāng tánle diǎn shì.”

(Hey, sorry to keep you waiting. We just talked about something.)

“méi shì.” (No worries.)

“Lucas,Tā shì y/n. y/n, Tā shì Lucas.” (Lucas,meet y/n. y/n, meet Lucas)

“y/n? Jiǔyǎng dàmíngle! Hěn gāoxìng jiàn dào nǐ! Hi I am Lucas.” (y/n? I heard so much about you! Nice to meet you!)

He extends his hand to you.

You just stare at his face. You froze at the moment. Because apparently you had never seen such beauty.

Handsome can’t describe Lucas’ he’s a god.

“y/n?”

For the first time you had a crush.

“U-uhm wo-wǒ shì y/n. Wǒ yěshì shíxí shēng. xìnɡ huì, xìnɡ huì” (H-Hi I am y/n. I am a trainee too. Nice to meet you.”

“Woah!junggug-iniseyo?” (Woah are you chinese?)

“A-ani! I’m not. I’m y/r”

You’re stuttering. In front of your crush. And it’s the first time you’re meeting. Bitch First Impressions last. You better keep it cool.

You, Hendery and Lucas hangs out more after that. You got close to him more and more,you found out he’s more than just a pretty face. He's charming, passionate, kind, funny and many more. Lucas can also say he likes hanging out with Hendery more because you always come along. Lucas really likes Hendery and treats him one of his best friends but why does he have a feeling that Lucas is using Hendery as an excuse to see you? And on the other hand you feel the same way too. Whenever Hendery asks you out to hang out you always expect Lucas to be there, and sometimes you’re much more excited about seeing Lucas than the night out instead. Hendery doesn’t feel like that. He feels like a freaking Third wheel. You and Lucas only focus on each other, Whenever he goes out with the both of you he always sees sparks in both of your eyes that mirror Lucas Eyes too. The attraction between Lucas and you can’t be denied. He tried to tease you both about it but you guys always deny it even though it’s obvious. And he’s not happy with that. 

Why?

Cause Hendery likes you.

Since Day 1.

Hendery became busy all of a sudden, you were lonely so Lucas accompanied you in place of Hendery.

Going out with Lucas became a habit, you too built a deep relationship with each other.

Lucas doesn’t want the feeling of taking Hendery for granted so he invited Hendery for a talk.

Hendery stops  playing his game and follows lucas.

“Hendery,hago sipeun mari ittta.” (Hendary, I have something to say.)

“Zěnmále?” (What is it?)

“Wǒ xǐhuan y/n..” (I like y/n..)

“Shénme?!” (What?!)

“Naneun geunyeoreul joahanda naneun geunyowa deiteuhago siptta.I like her. I want to date her. Wǒ yīnggāi bǎ tā yì chéng zhōngwén ma? thai?”(I like her, I want to date her. I like her, I want to date her. Should I also translate it into chinese? thai?)

“No need, I was just surprised.”

“So? Can I go out with her?”

“Seriously Why are you asking me? Wǒ bùshì tā Xuxi. You should ask her. Tā bùshì wǒ de.”(Seriously Why are you asking me? I’m not her Xuxi. You should ask her. She’s not mine.)

It’s true. You’re not Hendery’s.

He wish you were.

He knew this was going to happen, He doesn’t want to gatekeep you from Lucas just because he’s jealous, and also he doesn’t have a chance. You only see him as a best friend.

“I just thought it’s good to ask you because you’re her best friend.”

“You can do whatever you want Xuxi,Wúlùn fāshēng shénme shì, wǒ dūhuì zhīchí nǐ.”(You can do whatever you want Xuxi,i'll support you whatever happens.)

“Zhēn de ma?! Wǒ fàngxīnle.” (Really?! I feel relieved.)

“Wèishéme? Nǐ hàipà wǒ yě xǐhuān tā ma?” (why? are you scared that i like her too?)

Lucas was surprised. He just read my mind. He thinks.

Other than the feeling of guilt of using his friend as an excuse, He wants to ask him too to ensure that his dear friend is not going to be a rival.

“Ani nan duryopjji ana, Qíshí wǒ hěn yǒu xìnxīn.”(I’m not scared, actually i’m feeling confident.)

Why would he be scared? He’s Lucas. He can make everyone fall by looks alone.

“Don’t Worry, I won’t be a rival. I like her. I really do, but I won’t pursue her.I’m a coward and I haven’t put myself all together.Wǒ pèi bù shàng tā. Hái yǒu, tā zhǐ xǐhuān wǒ dāng péngyǒu, qǐng dài wǒ zhàogù tā.” (Also, she only likes me as a friend.  Please take care of her for me.)

It’s True He doesn’t deserve you. He’s still broken from an accident. He will be a burden once those memories will start hunting him  again.

“Nǐ quèdìng?” (you sure?)

“Yeah,Dàn jì zhù, yīdàn nǐ shānghàile tā wǒ jiù bǎ tā dài zǒu tā. I’m dead serious Yukhei.” (yeah,but remember once you hurt her, I'll take her away from you. I’m dead serious Yukhei.)

You and Lucas dated. You two were inseparable and in love with each other. Your friendship with Hendery kinda changed, he became busy with everything since He’s going to Debut in Wayv. It’s fine with you but you missed him.

Lucas opens your eyes about your dreams and the things you really want. Thanks to him you decided to pursue medicine.

Your relationship with Lucas now is different since he Debuted. You two were private, but not secret. Which means many people know he has a girlfriend but don't know it’s you. Few Idols know you’re his girlfriend but they keep it to themselves.

Lately Lucas has been distant to you. He wouldn’t pick up whenever you call. And whenever you want to facetime he would say he’s busy. 

“y/n your boyfriend sent a bubble message it’s trending in twt! Did you get the message?!”

“OMG wtf Na Jaemin! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Dr.Na, Dr.l/n. Shhh the patients are sleeping.”

You and Jaemin got scolded by the Chief Nurse. You two slightly bowed as sorry.

“Aish-This is all your fault.”

“Check LYSN right now! Ppalli!”

“I can’t My Subscription just expired yesterday.”

“Instead of ordering me. How about you tell me what he said?”

“Oh I didn't see the tweets about him. I just saw LUCAS GIRLFRIEND,#루카스_여자친_버블,#WE_SUPPORT_LUCAS, #旭熙_女朋友_LYSN and my phone died.” (#Lucas_girlfriend_bubble, #Yukhei_Girlfriend__LYSN)

“Oh..really? Did he mention me? He doesn’t tell me anything about coming out. That’s weird.”

“J-jeongmal?! Neohi duri majimageuro jonhwahan ge eonjeya?” (R-really?! When’s the last time you two call each other?)

That question is not hard.

But why can’t you answer such a simple question?

Perhaps because the two of you didn’t talk for like 6 months?

“nado molla,He always says he's busy.I send him daily messages but he won’t reply,He left me on seen.” (I don’t know.)

“What kind of boyfriend is he? He’s not like that when we’re still trainees.”

“Wait I’ll check Twitter.”

You don’t want to check what’s happening. A part of you just wants to turn a blind eye on this issue, because you have that feeling that things are about to mess up.

NCTSM: english translation of lucas’ post.

Translated by:@hoeforyukhei

여러분, 저는 루카스입니다.

팬분들한테 하고 싶은 말이 있어요.

사실 이 편지를 쓰면서 너무 떨려요.

저를 응원해주신 모든 팬분들께 감사드리고 처음부터 사랑하고 싶습니다. 저는 모든 사람들에게 제가 진정으로 사랑하는 아름답고 재능 있고 친절한 여자와 사귀고 있다는 것을 알리고 싶습니다.

유키는 제 여자친구와 우리 회사 둘 다 우리의 관계를 알리고 싶어했습니다.

저를 응원해주신 멤버들, 그리고 저를 사랑해주신 팬분들께 감사드리고, 제가 받을 자격이 없는데도 불구하고 응원해주신 팬분들께도 감사드린다.

저는 항상 여러분 모두에게 감사할 것이고 제 자신을 향상시키기 위해 노력할 것입니다.

사랑하는 팬들의 성원과 사랑에 보답하기 위해 열심히 노력하겠습니다.

탄쿄우 너무많아요.

Everyone, This is Lucas.

I want to say something to our fans.

I am actually so Nervous right now while writing this letter.

I want to thank all the fans that supported and love me from the start. I want to inform everyone that I am dating a beautiful, talented, and kind woman that I truly love.

Yuqi, my girlfriend and both of our Company wanted to publicize our relationship.

I am thankful for the members who cheered me, and to the fans who love me and supported me even though I am not deserving.

I will always be thankful to all of you and I will try to improve myself.

I will work hard to repay all the support and love of our beloved fans.

Thank You so much.

“What fucking bullshit is this?!”

“What the heck Renjun you were behind us all along?!”

“You’ve gone blind Na Jaemin.”

“Guys what the heck shut up the Patients are sleeping.”

“No y/n You shut up. How dare you take this bullshit? He just cheated on you! Right in front of your screen!”

Why are you calm?

Why aren’t you crying?

Is it because half of you expected it?

“It’s okay.It doesn’t matter. I already had a hunch he would do this.”

“Ani-even though you know it,I think it’s the best if you two should talk about it.”(no)

“Yeah, Renjun’s right if you’ll end things with him end it infront of his face! Slap him hard!”

“No Jaemin,I didn’t mean y/n will slap lucas. But y/n you get what I mean right?”

“Dr. Huang, paging Dr. Huang, Please come to the ER. Dr. Huang, paging Dr. Huang, Please come to the ER.”

“y/n you don’t always have to look strong. Jaemin and I are always here to talk to you.”

Renjun leaves you and Jaemin behind. You overthink Renjun's words, as always He is right. But your boyfriend just cheated on you, of course you don’t want to see him.

You find yourself in the middle of the airport,with Renjun who’s carrying your light backpack and Jaemin who’s hyped and doing an IG live.

In the end you and Jaemin are doing a chant like two drunkards in the center of the airport while waiting for your flight.

“y/n! y/n! Where are you going?”

“Korea!”

“Why are you going?!”

“To burn my ex's house!”

“Why are you going?!”

“To burn my ex’s house!”

“Whose house?!”

“Lucas’ house”

“Whose house?!”

“Lucas’ house!”

“Okay Jaemin that’s enough”

“No wait Renjun i’m not finish ye-”

Renjun quickly ended Jaemin’s IG live, which results in Jaemin being cranky. You literally laugh hard to their craziness. Until you were brought back to your reality when you heard your flight.

 “You’re a grown woman already so I’m not going to worry about you.”

“y/n bye!! Call us if anything happens!”

You were thankful for Jaemin and Renjun. They became your friends, your parents, your siblings, and your family.

They reminded you of someone.

Lucas definitely knows what he’s doing is wrong. He can’t help but to worry about you, this decision of his will forever make him miserable.

As soon as you got out of the airport, you didn’t immediately check in to a hotel or call lucas. Your feet dragged you to where your special place is. It’s the secluded part of the park, the park is where you and your ex-boyfriend have made most of your happy moments.

While you were you saw two familiar personages. 

Familiar indeed.

You are one little shit y/n. You said to yourself you will not cry.

But shit you were extremely wrong.

As tears roll down unto your face, you hurriedly exit the area.

“y-y/n?”

It’s Yuqi. You know her voice. Lucas once introduced her to you saying they’re close friends. They suited each other, and sometimes you tease them of being the perfect couple shits like that.

Then Yuqi will deny that she doesn't like him, they're just friends and everything.

You and her became friends. You even ask her if she could update you while you work abroad.

Now she’s just pure bullshit.

No, they’re bullshits.

You’re in the middle of running the exit to escape that hell hole.

Two large arms suddenly wrap your torso.

“Y-Y/n? Where are you going? Please let me explain, I didn’t do it. They made me do it y/n it’s not me i promise y/n don’t leave me Qǐng bùyào líkāi wǒ, wǒ qiú nǐle. Wǒ ài nǐ y/n. Wǒ zhēn de ài nǐ y/n, qǐng bié líkāi wǒ. J-jebalyo” (please don't leave me, I beg you. I love you y/n. I really do y/n,don't leave me, please.)

He’s sobbing there.

We’re all crying

He really won’t let go of you.

“L-lucas let go of me! Please.”

“No I won’t, please hear me out just this once.”

“I had enough, when there are times that I really need you- you shut me out lucas! You don’t know what that feels, the feeling of being left out. You didn’t even hear me out! You didn’t even answer my call when my brother died! I just want your company.. Your love. How can I hear you out if you don’t do the same? please,Fàng kāi wǒ..” (let me go.)

Lucas knelt to the ground and grab both of your hands tightly.

He’s eyes are swollen. Your heart aches for him, you still love him but this is so messed up. You remember the times before you lost contact with each other. Everything is so toxic.. 

Sometimes you have to accept the truth and stop wasting time on the wrong people.

“L-lucas,s-stand up please.”

“Bù, wǒ bù huì de! Bié pèng wǒ! Dōu shì nǐ de cuò! Bié pèng wǒ! Dōu shì nǐ de cuò! Nǐ qīpiànle wǒ.” (don't touch me! It's all your fault! you deceived me.)

“N-no,I didn’t.”

“y-y/n hear me out please I don’t love her.”

I hate it here.

Thankfully,Someone grabbed you out of nowhere.

You didn’t expect the sudden rescue,but you really appreciate it.

You cry hardly in the man’s arms.

It’s him. You missed him.

“Fàng kāi tā de Lucas.” (let go of her lucas.)

“I thought we were friends.”

“We still are,our friendship has nothing to do with helping y/n lucas.”

“You said you will support me!us!”

“That was then before you hurt her!”

“You know what would happen if I didn’t obey the company! You were there with me!”

“God damn lucas! You have a choice to accept it or not!”

“It’s my whole career! Everything I’ve worked for,and many more! I can’t afford  to sacrifice my-”

“Then it’s not y/n’s fault. You chose your career over her, then why are you running after her? If you really love her you would choose her! You need to man up! You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“y-y/n please make them stop! Nǐmen liǎ bié chǎole!Hendery please stop!” (You two stop fighting!)

“You. I know there’s something fishy behind your kind act. You know Xuxi already has a girlfriend! How dare you blackmail the higher ups just to make him yours? You sickened me.”

Your head is aching from all the crying and the things you discovered. You hated the drama.

“Bù Shì zhèyàng de! Wǒ méi nàme zuò! Nǐ zài shuō shénme-” (That’s not true! I didn’t do that! What are you sayin-)

“ENOUGH!”

You snapped. It took you a long time to get sick from all their lies.

“Y/n I promise you this isn’t tr-”

“I already said I had enough. Stop being pathetic Yuqi.”

A few people started to gather up when someone noticed the four of you, You are still with famous artists after all.

Hendery immediately dragged you out of the scene and took you to a car nearby, and drove his way out of there.

You love that park.Hangang Park is once full of your happy memories with your dearest ones,now it’s full of treachery,lies and contention.

You want to let go.

Many years of lies and denials. Now it’s all over.

“I thought I’ve lost you.”

“Trust me, I’m always with you.”

“Are we still friends?”

“There’s no break up in friendships.. At Least for me.”

You felt relief.

You can’t afford to have breakups from your friends. They’re all you got.

“Are you sure about letting go of him? You should know both sides.”

“I want to know both sides, I really do. But ican’t take all of this in one day. I need a break, this isn’t healthy. I just want to vanish for a second.”

“You didn’t answer me about letting go of him.”

“I don’t really know actually. But someone once told me ‘Never run back to what broke you’ I haven’t done that,I always thought that everything would be fixed once I stayed and put everything in order by myself. Turns out it didn’t. I think it’s time for a change.Someday, someone is going to thank him for letting me go.”

Someday, someone is going to thank Lucas for letting you go?

Hendery chuckled a little. Your saying once reminded him of the past.

When Lucas thanked him for letting you go.

It turns out, Hendery can’t let you go.

“Did you realize he didn’t actually let you go?”

“I know. But You can’t actually call it a relationship if you’re the only one holding on like I did. Besides he has yuqi.”

“Oh really?”

“You didn’t actually ask me where we're going. You just dragged me. Why did you do that?”

“I just did what I promised myself a long time ago.”

“What is that?”

You stared at his side profile while he’s driving.

He’s focused on the road, the oranged-pinked lights from the sunset pass through the windshield and hits his ethereally beautiful face.

Your Heart beats faster. It’s like the first time you met yukhei.

Hendery turned to you and smiled softly.

“It’s ‘once someone hurts you, I'll take you away from that person.’ I had a very horrible past. I’ve broken many promises from my loved ones,so this is the first time I’ve made a promise come true and I’m pretty proud about it.”

“By the way where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want, Where do you wanna go?”

______________________________

“Did you get it?”

“Yes sir I did.”

“This will be a really big scoop,let me see.”

“I just really love you so much *sobs why can’t you do the same to me?! I did everything for you!”

“Are you delusional?! You wrecked my life! How am I supposed to do that?!”

“Y-yn?”

“Y/n? y/n wait! y/n! Y-Y/n? Where are you going? Please let me explain, I didn’t do it. They made me do it y/n it’s not me i promise y/n don’t leave me Qǐng bùyào líkāi wǒ, wǒ qiú nǐle. Wǒ ài nǐ y/n. Wǒ zhēn de ài nǐ y/n, qǐng bié líkāi wǒ. J-jebal-”

“Sunbae, your phone is ringing”

“Annyeonghaseyo,This is Yeo Seon-Da from Dispatch Korea. How may I help you?”

to be continued.

AN:HELLO I KNOW THIS IS TRASH, IT’S BECAUSE I’M TRASH AS WELL. LOL I’M JUST JOKING (IT’S TRUE) THIS IS THE RESULT OF ME WATCHING AND READING TOO MANY CHEATING AND DRAMATIC DRAMAS, WEBTOONS, MANGA, AND NOVELS.

THANK YOU FOR REACHING THIS PART AND READING THE STORY. PLEASE LOOK FORWARD TO MORE TRASHY STORIES BY YOURS TRULY.

ALSO PLEASE SUPPORT THIS YEAR’S PROJECT NCT 2020. THEY ALREADY EARNED NEW TWO BELOVED MEMBERS SHOTARO AND SUNGCHAN. PLEASE SUPPORT AND LOVE ALL THE 23 MEMBERS. PLEASE REFRAIN FROM FIGHTING ABOUT THIS AND THAT, IT MAY AFFECT THE MEMBERS’ COMEBACK. THEY’RE REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO IT AND GIVING THEIR BEST FOR US CZENNIES. LET’S DIVERT OUR ANGER AND HATRED TO THE UPCOMING SONGS AND MV BY VOTING,STREAMING IT AND SUPPORTING THE COMEBACK. LET’S ALL WORK HARD AND REPAY THE CONSTANT LOVE AND HAPPINESS THEY’RE GIVING US. LET’S GIVE THEM THE WIN THEY DESERVE!

시즈니할수있어! 모두 사랑하자!

[hateswifi]

Rising from the Ashes: Of Nicknames and Luck

So this is Part Five here is to my Master List and Part Four. Enjoy!! I just felt like... hey why not post two today? So that’s what I did, I hope you enjoy these shenanigans.

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

Back with Marinette now in her hotel room, she decides to unpack a bit and look for an apartment offer online using the hand-me-down laptop Chloe had given her. 

After about an hour, she decides to take a break from apartment hunting and go to the grocery store even though she couldn’t exactly cook anything from her hotel room. She could at least make some good sandwiches.

When she got to the grocery store and after she had collected everything she needed which included: bread, peanut butter, jelly, chicken, lettuce, tomato, and some chips she hadn’t heard of before. The cashier looked her up and down then asked. “Are you the Ice Prince's girlfriend?”

“I’m no one's girlfriend. You must be confusing me with someone else,” she said as she paid then left. On her walk home she heard a bing: someone said they would meet with her about renting an apartment. The person was the manager of a building owned by Wayne Enterprises. They said she would like to meet Marinette at one o'clock: two hours from now. She decided on a salad for lunch because she had something so sugary for breakfast. She still wanted to keep a somewhat healthy diet.

She sits down and decides to check out what Diana recommended last night. She Googles ‘Gotham's Heroes' results immediately came up with Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and lastly a traffic light looking boy named, Robin. Seriously, who designed that outfit? If she ever met him she would have some words with him. She sighed while checking the time: twelve-thirty. She grabbed her stuff and left quickly.

“Hello my name is Marinette, I’m here to talk with,” she pauses, looking at her phone. “a Ms. Simms.”

“I’ll call her,” the receptionist said reaching then dialing on the phone. “Hello, Ms. Simms your one o’clock is here, Miss Marinette? Of course.” She hangs up then stands. “Please follow me.” They walk quietly into an office. She knocks on the door. 

“Enter,” a voice says from inside. “Hello, Marinette. My name is Sarah Simms. Please come take a seat.”

“So I recently moved here and need an apartment. I already have a way to pay for it, I got a job on Monday,” Marinette said, sitting across from Sarah. 

“Well want to visit the apartment?” Sarah asked, standing. 

“That would be lovely,” Marinette says, following. 

“So the last tenant left their stuff here which includes a fridge-freezer combo, a table, a couple of chairs, a couch, and two beds, one queen and one twin. They also left a smaller television,” she finishes, opening the door. The apartment was on the third floor with a decent view. “The rent would be six hundred a month and you would need to sign a year contract with a down payment of a hundred today.”

“This sounds almost too good to be true!” Marinette smiles after she finishes looking around the apartment she says. “Where can I sign?”

“Let’s head to my office and I’ll print the papers,” Sarah said, smiling as they left the apartment. 

After the papers were signed and money was paid, Marinette left for the hotel grabbed her stuff and checked out. She smiles for the first time in quite a while she was happy and proud of herself. 

She heard ringing as she dropped her stuff: it was Chloe. She immediately picked up. “Hey, Mar, how’s the second day of your new life,” Chloe asked, her voice crackling over the line a bit. 

“It has been pretty good. I got up early and went to a park close to the hotel I was staying at. This dog tackled me and the dog’s owner felt bad, so he took me to breakfast. His name is Damian, I really hope to see him again… crap he ran off before I could get his number,” she pauses falling on the couch. 

“Sounds like someone has a crush?” Chloe asks, Marinette can hear Chloe’s smirk through the phone. 

“I only met him once. After that, I went grocery shopping. Also, I got an apartment! Most of it is already furnished all I have to buy some basic things like pots, pans, plates, utensils, towels, and you know little things like that,” Marinette explained. 

“That’s great Mar. I’m so happy for you!” Chloe said.

“How was your day going?” Marinette asked. 

“I miss you a lot and life is quite boring without you. Lila was talking crap about you again,” Chloe answered. 

“I don’t even care at this point, as long as we know the truth. She doesn’t affect me anymore,” Marinette explained. 

“I know it just makes me angry knowing that her lies are so terrible,” Chloe sighed. 

“I know I’m sorry I’m not there, but I couldn’t stay in Paris. There is too much trauma and no family left for me,” Marinette explained. 

“Marinette I’m family. Luka, Adrien, and Kagami. We’re all your family! We all love and miss you!” Chloe exclaimed angrily, then hung up. 

Marinette sighed and plopped on the couch then turned on the small tv that was just across from her. It was some celebrity news so she changed it and watched an English cartoon instead as she checked her Twitter feed, which is still based on Paris. Chat had given the announcement of her leaving Paris, along with an announcement of no longer endorsing the Ladyblog after a post of Lila being love rivals with Ryuko for Viperon. Chat also announced that the rest of the team would continue with patrols. 

She hung out for the rest of the day making a list of things she needs to get. She would go to buy things after work tomorrow. She made herself a chicken, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. She then went to bed early so she could be on time for work which starts at seven.

When she woke up to her blaring alarm at six-twenty she put on a pink long-sleeved sweater, which she tucked into a black high waisted shirt with a belt. She paired her outfit with kitty black heels. She also put her hair up in princess bun. 

She rushed to work and arrived on time. She greets Diana and put her purse in the back. 

“Marinette in a little bit there will higher class customers in need of suits. I would appreciate it if you would measure them. They are as I said celebrities and like their privacy, please respect that,” Diana explains. Not long after Diana finished speaking a group of people walked in four of them to be exact. 

“Welcome, Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. Damian is not with you?” Diana asks as they entered the store.

“No, he had a class this morning,” Bruce informed Diana of the changed plans.

“But it is to my understanding that he also needed a suit,” Daina states. 

“That is true, I was wondering if I could call in a favor,” he asks.

“Well, I can’t because I’m leaving to visit my family, but I’m sure I could ask my new employee, Marinette, to go take his measurements,” Diana said, looking for Marinette.

“I’m right here, Diana,” she says, exiting the back room. “I was grabbing the measuring tape, a notebook, and a pencil.”

“Oh my god! You’re Demon Spawn’s girlfriend!” Dick yells, running up to her.

“I’m no one's girlfriend,” Marinette says back then mutters in Mandarin. “Why does everyone keep asking that.”

Jason hears what she says and responds in Mandarin. “Because people saw you out--”. Dick elbowed him before he could finish not wanting to blow Damian’s secret. “We mistook you for someone else.”

“What was that for!” Jason exclaims. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Dick mutters.

“Ok so now that's over, please take the boys to the back to take their measurements,” Diana said, pointing the boys to follow her. In the back, Dick stood on a platform so Marinette could measure him.

“So Marinette,” Dick started being cut off. 

“I am pretty sure Diana didn’t say my name. How do you know me?” Marinette paused her measuring of Dick. “Would you be able to step down? I have to measure your shoulder blades.”

“I heard Diana say it,” Dick says as he stepped down. He felt her feather-light touch dance across his back as she measured him. She then stepped in front of him measuring his chest then arms. 

“How old are you and how long have you been working here?” Tim asks, staring at the petite girl while she works. 

“Ummm… today is my first day working here, but I am experienced in the fashion world. I don't want to talk about my past work because this is my new beginning and I turned eighteen about two months ago,” Marinette said, measuring her legs.

“We’re all about new beginnings, that's why Bruce adopted us,” Jason chimed in.

“They’re not pretentious like how I thought Americans would act,” Marinette mutters in French. 

“Thanks, but we’re not like most Americans,” Dick responds, looking down at the now flustered girl.

“I’m sorry to assume. In Paris, most Americans are shown as fools or snobs. I’ve only met a couple before today. How many languages do you all speak?” Marinette asked, working faster while keeping her head down.

“We all speak, English, French, Mandarin, Spanish, and Italian, but our youngest brother also speaks Slavonic and Arabic,” Tim explained.

“Ok, you’re all down Ummm… I’m sorry I never caught your names,” She speaks softly while backing up to give Dick room.

“You don't know us?” Dick asked shocked.

“Diana said you guys were celebrities, but I don’t pay attention to famous people unless they’re from the fashion industry and I haven’t exactly caught up on American celebrities yet,” Marinette explained.

“Well I’m Jason Todd-Wayne, this is my younger brother Tim Drake-Wayne, and my oldest brother Dick Grayson-Wayne,” Jason said, pointing at each of them as he talked.

“Ok, which one of you wants to go next,” Marinette asked, looking between the younger two of the trio.

“He’ll go next,” Jason said, pushing Tim forward.

“So you said you’ve only met a couple of people we know a bunch of people would you be able to tell us who you met?” Tim asked.

“The first person I met Diana she is quite nice, I don’t know much about her though. The second person I met was a guy named Damian. His dog, Titus, tackled me, so I guess he felt bad, we met at the park across from where I was staying. He wanted to make it up to me by breakfast, which was so delicious. I had waffles!  I met my landlord, Sarah Simms, she seems a bit distant, but I barely know her. Then I met you guys, your dad seems cold, but you guys are quite nice,” Marinette explains as she finishes up with Tim. 

“Are you and Damian friends now? You sound quite fond of him,” Jason asks as he takes Tim’s place. 

“He ran off to take a call or something as I was going to ask for his number, it’s truly a shame he was nice,” Marinette says then blushes and looks down. “And he was handsome not going to lie.”

“Aww someone has a crush?” Dick asks. 

“I’ve only met him once, but if I ever met him again I would ask him out, he was so nice, so kind,” Marinette sighs, looking lost in thought. 

“Are we sure she’s talking about the same person?” Tim asks in Italian. “She looks smitten by him.”

“We have to get them together! She would be so good for him,” Dick answers in Italian. 

“Guys I’m pretty sure Damian doesn’t want us to interfere,” Jason responds, holding out his arms for her to measure. 

“I’m all done. I’ll go call Diana to see what she wants me to do with the measurements,” Marinette says as she gets up and leaves. 

“She’s perfect for him. Think he hasn’t dated or been open with anyone before maybe she could be a first,” Tim says still in Italian. “Also she’s adorable!”

“You guys decided to talk in Italian while she was working? She thought that you guys don’t like her and we’re going to have her be fired, but she may have been overthinking,” Bruce said, entering the measuring room. 

“Damian was nice to that girl. She likes him. He likes her!” Dick exclaims, standing up.  

“Well it’s a good thing she’s coming over tomorrow to take Damian’s measurements,” Bruce smirked. 

“She is, what time?” Jason asked. 

“You’re not to disturb them. If there’s a girl out there he won’t send off or a girl who won’t run to the hills, we have to at least try to set them up,” Bruce said. 

After Marinette left the boys she went to give the measurements to Diana. 

“Here you go,” Marinette said, cheerfully. 

“Thank you. Also tomorrow there’s one more boy’s measurement to do. Bruce said he would pay extra if you go to the manor after the boutique's closing. Would you be able to take the boy’s measurements?” Diana asks taking the notepad. 

“That will be easy, but would you be able to tell me the address?” Marinette asked, pulling out her phone ready to type the address. 

“Bruce said he would send a car,” Diana informed Marinette. “May I have your address to give to him for his driver?”

“Yes, I live in Wayne Apartments, which is ironic because you know they’re the Waynes,” Marinette said, laughing. 

“That’s so funny!” Dick said, pointing at Bruce. “You’re friends with us, the Waynes, and you live in a building he owns.”

“To be fair I’ve only been in America for three days and I already have a job and an apartment. I think that’s pretty good,” Marinette says, crossing her arms. 

“I would also say pretty lucky, Spot,” Diana says as Marinette blushes. 

"Bye Sunshine!" Dick calls as he goes to open the door.

“Thank you, guys! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow!” She waves to them as they leave. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly, she designed a bit while there weren't any customers in the store. 

Diana closes her shop around seven o’clock, her business is thriving. She goes home eats some food then grabs her money to buy the stuff on the list she made earlier. She left quickly and went to the closest store. She finished shopping and when she got home put the stuff away. She then took a shower and went to bed.

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

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @crazylittlemunchkin 

[angelofthequeers]

Miladybug

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

I signed up to be a backup gifter for @mlsecretsanta and my giftee turned out to be @chimpukampu so I hope you like this fic!  ❤️💚

AO3 link

“Where’s…Adrien?” Marinette pants when she’s tumbled into her seat, only barely on time for school which, to be fair, is a step up from being outright late. But there’s no familiar blond head in front of her!

“Home sick,” Nino says. “Poor dude’s got a nasty cold.”

“You reckon his dad’ll let him rest and recover?” Alya says, making a face. “Or is he just gonna learn at home?”

“Probably that one,” Nino says.

“Ugh. He’s got the worst dad, I swear. My mum would tie me to the bed with blankets and force-feed me homemade chicken soup.”

Ms Bustier clears her throat, cutting the conversation short. But Marinette can’t concentrate. All she can think about is poor, sick Adrien, and how she should maybe swing by later that night before patrol with a box of delicious baked goods…but no, she can’t. Between her love for Adrien and the feelings for Chat Noir that she’s trying to shove a lid on, it’s the last thing her tangled heart needs, not to mention that she’d probably end up a flustered mess like when she’d given Adrien the Snake Miraculous and then he’ll think she’s totally uncool and won’t want to talk to her and she’ll have blown her relationship with him on both sides of the mask and –

Marinette shakes her head with a soft groan and forces herself to pay attention to the lesson. Dwelling on it won’t do anything except send her brain spiralling, which is never a good time for her.

Once school’s over, she distracts herself until patrol time making a get well soon card for Adrien, even though she probably won’t have the guts to even sign it, let alone deliver it. Besides, the universe will probably kick her in the gut if she does; after all, she’d forgotten to sign her Valentine, and she’d signed Adrien’s birthday present, but her signature had somehow vanished. Tikki perches on her shoulder, munching on a cookie while Marinette sticks a scarlet heart to the front of the pink card and then sprinkles a touch of pink glitter on it.

“What do I even write?” she says when she opens it. “Dear Adrien, get well soon! Love, Marinette.” She groans and thumps her head on her desk. “No! That’s the most generic message ever! And “love”? Gah! That’s too – too – coupley!”

“I thought you wanted to be a couple,” Tikki teases.

“Yeah, but not through a get-well card when he’s sick!” Marinette says. “Ugh, this is a disaster!”

“Well, it’s almost time for patrol,” Tikki says. “Why not head out a little earlier to clear your head? Then you can work on your card when you get home!”

Marinette exhales and lets her shoulders slump. “You’re right, Tikki,” she says. “I’m freaking out over nothing!”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!”

“Yeah, yeah. Tikki, spots on!”

As Ladybug, all her worries seem to melt away once she’s swinging through the sea of lights that make up Paris. Although she could make it to the Eiffel Tower in less than a minute, she decides to take the scenic route and keeps a nice, relaxed pace through the city. At one point, she even closes her eyes and lets herself plummet, laughing at how the wind whips through her hair and howls in her ears, then opens her eyes and throws her yo-yo just in time to stop herself from crashing into the ground.

Even though she’s early, Chat Noir is already at the Tower when Ladybug lands on the platform at the tip, her pigtails a windblown mess and her cheeks flushed warm with blood. He gives her his signature smirk, although it’s lopsided.

“Milady!” He lets out a giggle. “Get it! Because you’re a ladybug! You’re milady…bug!” He squints at her and adds, “You don’t look like a bug, though. Your eyes are…” He laughs again. “Pretty!”

“Uh…” Ladybug lets her yo-yo swing. “Is there an akuma? Did you get hit?”

“What! Noooo! No akuma!” Chat Noir lets himself fall onto his back. “I’m happy, miladybug. Bugaboo. Angel. The light of my life!”

Her brow furrowed, Ladybug edges towards her oddly-behaving partner and nudges him with her toes. He giggles again and looks up at her with glazed green eyes.

“Okay, what happened?” she says, crossing her arms. “What did you do?”

“I’m sick!” Chat Noir beams as though Ladybug had just revealed her identity to him. “I have a coooold. But I’m so hot!” He flexes his biceps and says, “In more ways than one, miladybug!”

“God help me,” Ladybug mutters. “What kind of cold could you possibly have that would make you like this?”

“It’s not my cold!” Chat Noir winks. “It’s – it’s the meds! I took cold tablets!” He frowns and adds, “Why are they called cold tablets if they’re not cold? You don’t keep them in the fridge. Maybe you should, though!” He gasps and covers his mouth. “I’ve found the secret, miladybug! I’ll cure colds! Maybe I shouldn’t be a ps – a physicist. I’ll be a biologist!”

So, Chat Noir wants to be a physicist? Huh. Adrien likes physics too.

“A bi-ologist!” Chat Noir says with a rasping laugh. “Because I’m bi! Geddit, miladybug? And I’m bilingual! I’m learning Mandarin!” He gasps. “Are you bi too? Are we balanced? You on this side –” He holds his left hand out. “And me on this side!” He holds out his right hand. “For justice! Lady Justice! Milady Justice!”

“Okay, okay, no patrol for you tonight, kitty,” Ladybug sighs, sitting cross-legged next to him. He immediately shuffles over and rests his head in her lap, and a deep sound rumbles deep in his chest. “Did you just purr?”

“Mm-hmm!” Chat Noir sighs and nestles his head further in her lap. “Cats purr when they’re happy. And you make me happy, miladybug. You’re my – my catnip! I can’t get enough of you!” He twirls his finger near his temple and says, “You make me gaga when you’re around!”

Despite her best efforts, Ladybug can’t stop a giggle from escaping her. It seems that cold and flu medication sends Chat Noir high as a kite and removes any filter he might have. This could be problematic, although she can’t quite put her finger on why because even without a filter, he shouldn’t just up and spill his secret identity.

Right?

“Are you an angel, miladybug?” Chat Noir sighs. “You’re glowing.”

“That’s just the city lights, silly,” Ladybug says and boops his nose. He purrs louder in response.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” he says. “So – so – blue! Just like my friend.”

Alarm bells start to sound in Ladybug’s head. “Chat –”

“Marinette!” Chat Noir blurts out. Ladybug freezes. “You know Marinette, right? Of course you do! You told me to protect her from Nathanieeeel.” He sighs again and says, “Can I tell you a secret, miladybug?”

“Um, I don’t think –”

“I think I like Marinette. She’s so prettyyyy…and she’s always standing up – everyone stands up! No one can sit forever! But she stands up strongly. And she tells off Chloe. I wish I could be as cool as her.”

“Chat, I think you need to shut up now,” Ladybug says, trying to extract Chat Noir from her lap while also trying to deal with the warmth pooling in her gut at his words. Rather than listen to her, however, he utters the words that knock her entire worldview off its axis.

“She’s so beautiful when she’s positive,” Chat Noir says with a strong purr. “She’s the only person in my class who’s never touched a pretty black butterfly, apart from me.” He wrinkles his nose. “Wait, no, they’re ugly. Hawkmoth is ugly. But not Marinette! She’s beautiful. I’m used to disappointment. But she’s strong. Of course she is. She’s a baker’s daughter!” His eyes unfocus. “I wonder if she could carry me like a sack of flour.”

Ice explodes in Ladybug’s stomach, coating her insides. She’s the only other person apart from him that hasn’t been akumatised in their class? But – no, that can’t be – the only other person in Ms Bustier’s class who hasn’t been akumatised is…

Something behind Chat Noir’s mask seems to shift. The blond hair and green eyes are no longer unfamiliar. Now they’re – now it’s Adrien looking out at her with his drug-glazed eyes and lopsided grin –

No. Way. She’s been rejecting her crush all this time for herself! He’s starting to fall for her civilian identity, and he never would’ve let this slip if he’d known it was her behind the mask, drugged or not! And now he’s just gone and blurted it all out to her and outed his identity! What the heck is she supposed to do?

A soft snore snaps her out of her panicked thoughts. Chat Noir has dozed off in her lap, curled up like a cat and letting out little purring snores with each exhale. Before she realises what she’s doing, her fingers are carding through his hair, bright scarlet against soft gold like a rose on sea sand. Okay. She just has to be rational about this. She needs to talk to someone before she has her looming meltdown.

“Spots off,” she whispers. Pink sparkles wash over her, dissolving the ladybug suit and freeing Tikki. The kwami gasps, her eyes bulging as she takes in the scene before her.

“It’s okay,” Marinette says softly, still combing her fingers through his hair. “Adrien’s asleep.”

“Ad – oh.” Tikki’s large blue eyes are fixed on Chat Noir. “You know. How?”

“He’s high on cold meds,” Marinette says. “He let a few things slip. Things I couldn’t just brush off. Like how we’re the only two people in our class who haven’t been akumatised.”

“That would do it,” Tikki sighs. She darts into Marinette’s purse and emerges with a macaron, devouring half of it in one bite. “And you’re not…upset? Freaking out?’

“Oh, I’m about two seconds from losing my mind,” Marinette says rather evenly, still stroking her kitty’s hair. “I think it’s just a delayed reaction. And I don’t want to wake him up or freak out Paris and make them think there’s an akuma.”

“Poor Adrien.” Tikki darts down to press a tiny kiss to Chat Noir’s forehead.

“It makes sense now,” Marinette says. “Why Chat’s so…Chat. I mean, his timing could use some work, but of course he’s going to be that open when he’s Chat.”

“It’s not like he’s a different person as Chat than as Adrien,” Tikki says.

“Yeah, I know that,” Marinette says. She sighs and leans down to follow Tikki’s example and kiss Chat Noir on the forehead. The inevitable meltdown in the next few hours as she tries to process this is going to be huge. “Adrien has his dorky moments. How did I not see it before? He literally told me it was a ‘knightmare’ after Darkblade was defeated! And you knew!”

“Of course I knew,” Tikki says. “I saw him when you were facing Dark Owl. But are you really upset that I didn’t tell you?”

“No, no…it was my decision to keep our identities a secret. I guess I’m just trying to process.”

“Maybe you should process at home,” Tikki says. “You’re clearly not going to get any patrolling done, and it’s probably best for Adrien if he’s at home to rest.”

“But he’s…so peaceful.” Marinette starts to stroke a finger down Chat Noir’s nose over the shiny leather mask, just like her mother used to do to her as a small child. Chat Noir lets out a loud purr and nuzzles against her thigh.

“The longer you try to suppress this freak-out, the stronger it’s going to be when it sinks in,” Tikki says. “And super suit or not, the best thing for Adrien right now is to be resting at home. It’s not exactly warm out here.”

“That’s…true.” Marinette huffs and carefully shifts Chat Noir’s head so that she can stand up. Chat Noir lets out a tiny mewl when his head touches the cool metal of the Eiffel Tower, rather than the warmth of Marinette’s legs. She can’t help but let a laugh slip out when, absurdly, she realises what Chat Noir might have to say about Tikki’s wording. “That silly cat. He’d say suppurress and then give me that grin of his when I groan. I can’t believe I’m in love with this dork!”

“You’re in love with him?” Tikki says. Marinette braces herself for a freak-out that never emerges. Huh. Maybe it really is waiting until she’s home and her brain isn’t currently trying to process a million past interactions at once.

“He’s Adrien,” Marinette says. “Of course I’m in love with every side of him. And okay, so I might have been catching some feelings for Chat, but I’m just going to ignore that. And bury it deep down. Really deep down. And then let it blow up as I scream into my pillow and you float there and try to calm me down and offer me advice about how it’s all going to be alright and I’ll start shrieking about our three kids and hamster and island home and my parents will just assume I’m going on a lovesick ramble again –”

“Marinette!” Tikki says loudly, cutting off the rest of Marinette’s babbling in her throat. “Maybe you should get Adrien home while you’ve still got some semblance of higher brain power?”

“Right. Right. Of course.” Marinette runs a hand through her hair, accidentally pulling some strands out of her pigtails. “You’re right. Tikki, spots on!”

Once transformed, Ladybug scoops Chat Noir into her arms bridal-style and then leaps across the buildings of Paris in the direction of the Agreste mansion. To be honest, there’s a part of her that’s praying to see Adrien in his room, to maintain this charade of Adrien and Chat Noir being two separate people, even though she knows rationally that after Chat Noir’s rambling just before, there’s no way he could be anyone else. But sure enough, when she swings smoothly through the window into Adrien’s bedroom, there’s no one there.

Well, then. Guess there’s no more deluding herself. Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste are the same person. The boy she’s been turning down is the boy she’s been so in love with for so long.

“He can’t detransform like this, can he?” Ladybug mumbles to herself once she’s laid Chat Noir down on the bed as reverently as someone might set down their new bride. Chat Noir snuffles and curls in on himself, then lets out a tiny snore, and Ladybug’s insides melt into goo at just how…adorable he is.

If she’s honest with herself, Chat Noir’s always had a bit of her heart that Adrien never had. It would’ve been easy – so very easy – to let herself fall for him. But how could she do that when her heart belonged to Adrien? How could she let herself give up on the boy she loved?

Except that now, she doesn’t have to. The two boys who’ve staked claim to her heart are one and the same. It’s not as though her feelings for Adrien have transferred to Chat Noir now that she knows they’re the same person. It’s more like…acknowledging the duality of Adrien and Chat Noir has unlocked her heart, allowing herself to fully love both sides of the same boy, simultaneously so similar and yet so different.

Ladybug blinks and shakes her head. Of course she’d stand there and wax poetic over her sleeping kitty. But how is she supposed to detransform him without waking him up to have him say the words? She can’t really leave him there as Chat Noir in case someone comes to check on him and finds a leather cat superhero where the sunshine prince of Paris should be. She bites down on her lip to stifle her laughter at that thought, to avoid waking him.

“Forgive me, mon minou,” Ladybug whispers. She takes his hand in hers and starts to slide his ring off, ever so slowly, making sure that he doesn’t wake up and start freaking out that someone’s trying to remove his ring. She freezes when he grunts, but his head just lolls to the other side and he continues to snore softly, his exhales whistling just like hers do when she’s all clogged up from a cold. Poor kitten.

In a flash of green light, Chat Noir is replaced with Adrien once Ladybug finally gets the ring off. Plagg comes tumbling out and whips around, no doubt to investigate why he’d been forcibly freed from the transformation, so Ladybug just raises a finger to her lips, Plagg’s Miraculous in full view, and then carefully twists the now-silver ring back onto Adrien’s finger. Plagg watches her silently, his bright green cat eyes rather eerie in the rolling shadows of Adrien’s room cast by the lights outside his window.

“I can’t believe he’s my kitten.” Ladybug sits down next to Adrien, careful not to disturb him, wincing when he forces in a particularly loud gulp of air. She resumes stroking her finger down his nose just as she’d done on top of the Eiffel Tower and he seems to lean into the touch with a soft purr, although that could just be her imagination.

“Thanks for taking care of him.” Plagg’s voice is soft, both in volume to not wake Adrien up and in tone, unlike his usual crassness. “I tried to get him to skip out on patrol tonight.”

“He should have. Silly kitty.” Impulsively, Ladybug bends down and smooths back Adrien’s soft hair to press a kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering on the hot skin. She won’t kiss him on the mouth, not while he’s asleep; that’s a privilege that she has to earn when he’s awake and aware. “I wish I could help.”

“Kid, trust me, when I tell him Ladybug kissed him, that’ll help him plenty,” Plagg says. Then he smirks, his fangs glinting in the dim light. “He’s gonna freak when I tell him Ladybug knows who he is. Maybe he’ll finally shut up about his lady and her silky hair like night and her bluebell eyes –”

“Plagg!” Ladybug hisses as blood rushes to her cheeks. “Don’t be a turd!”

Plagg just cackles quietly. “You should go, Pigtails,” he says as he zips down to snuggle on the pillow next to Adrien’s head. “I’ll watch out for him. Wouldn’t want to be late for school tomorrow, would ya?”

“You and I both know I’ll always be late, Ladybug or not,” Ladybug say. But she still rises from the bed as gently as she can, then turns back to leave one last kiss on Adrien’s forehead. “Sleep well, mon chéri.”

“Gag me,” Plagg mutters. Ladybug rolls her eyes at him before heading for the window, tiptoeing so that her kitten can sleep peacefully. She her yo-yo to catch on a nearby chimney, blows a kiss back at Adrien, then leaps out into the cool Parisian night.

“Don’t worry, Adrien,” Ladybug murmurs as she reflects on the action-packed events of the past hour, praying that she makes it home before it really sinks in and she starts to scream, because the last thing she needs is to scare the living daylights out of Paris. “I’ll carry you like a bag of flour tomorrow. Just you wait and see.”