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#and somehow calm down enough to go into a store and buy a plant and pot for my baby
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Tw animal death
I just lost one of my pet rats and I need to talk about it I guess
I just didn't expect this. He's been doing better, eating and drinking and moving around the cage. Last night I let myself believe for a moment that he would get better. But then I checked on him this morning and he was gone. I let his brother see him, and once he lost interest I took him out. But once I held him in my arms I just couldn't let him go. Because that's my baby. He's my baby and I love and miss him so much and I don't know what to do.
I got him and his brother from a friend because she had to move to an apartment that didn't accept pets and her family couldn't take them, so I took them because I was moving and wanted some critters to accompany me. And they were the best things that ever happened to me. Taking care of them and loving them was one of my favorite parts of life. I missed them while I was at work and couldn't wait to get home and let them out for free roam time. And now one is gone, and I have to tell my friend and I don't know how to. Text or call, what to say, anything.
He's in a little box with a couple toys, some goldfish crackers (his favorite snack) and a piece of hammock (he loved snuggling with his brother in a hammock). And I had to decide how to take care of my baby. I live in the city with no green spaces and no yard. When planning I thought I could just put him out with the trash, but holding him after he was gone made me completely unable to do that. I checked some rat groups on Facebook and they recommended burying him in a plant pot, so that's what I'm going to. As soon as I'm okay enough to leave my room I'm gonna go to the plant shop and get him a beautiful plant in a nice big pot. And I wanted something to keep of him, and to give to his old owner if she wants it, so I took some of his fluff and put it in a little jar meant to hang on a necklace and I'll mail it if she wants it.
I just needed to say all of this to process it ig. I wouldn't mind some nice words or pictures of your pets, if you're willing to share. Otherwise, I hope you all have a wonderful day.
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0-solshroom-0 · 2 years
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For the @drinkwithme-exchange
I got to give a gift to @wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj and I chose the duo Eponine and Marius from their favorite friendships! I really hope you like it, I write some fanfiction but I’ve never written for Les Mis before so I did my very best. It’s modern au i hope that is okay with you 💕
(disclaimer: do not cycle your tank for an hour, it takes from several days up to 2 weeks to cycle a tank properly but for the purposes of this fanfiction I bent the rules. do proper research before buying a fish! Do not be like Marius)
Eponine had assumed it was an emergency. No, not assumed, was told it was an emergency. Marius barely understood how to use his phone to call someone, let alone text. So when he had texted her to “come over right now, it is the biggest emergency in the world,” she had assumed it was pretty important. What she had not expected was to see Marius on his living room floor clutching a fish bowl.
“Pontmercy..?” Eponine murmured as she finally stepped in the doorway.
“Eponine I accidentally won a goldfish from the carnival and I have no idea what to do with it.” Marius spoke all at once, words jumbling together.
Eponine knelt down next to him, and sure enough in the tiny glass bowl was a rather sad looking orange fish swimming lazily in a circle. “Well… it can’t stay in that.”
“I know, I need a bigger bowl.”
Eponine shook her head. “Definitely not. You need an actual fish tank. And tank decorations… and a filter and food. And probably a bunch of other stuff as well. Good lord Marius did you think this through?”
“I didn’t mean to win the goldfish!” Marius insisted, “I had gone to the carnival with Courfeyrac and then everyone else showed up and we were all taking turns playing this game, but no one was doing well and we all thought it was funny and then it was my turn and somehow I didn’t do badly and now I have a goldfish.”
“You couldn’t have gotten a giant stuffed monkey or something cheesy like that? It had to be a goldfish?” Eponine laughed, shaking her head.
“The lady had already handed me the bowl! I panicked!” Marius insisted.
Eponine laughed a bit more, “You’re panicking again! We see what kind of bad decisions you make when panicked, so let’s calm down yeah? Come on, put the fish on the shelf. We’ll go to the pet store down the way and everything will be fine.”
The trip to the pet store was much more eventful then either of them could have hoped, with Marius almost tripping into the wall of fish tanks, Eponine getting startled by the geckos, and finally the two asking a lady in the shop for help only to realize that Marius’s new pet was going to require a much bigger tank then initially thought.
“Twenty gallons for one little guy…” Marius sighed, shook his head, and continued carrying buckets of water between the sink and the new fish tank, which sat on the coffee table in the middle of his living room as there was nowhere else to put it.
Eponine laughed, arranging plants and wood around in the tank that was slowly rising in water level with each bucket full. “You signed up for this Marius, next time don’t be so good at carnival games, or give the fish to Jehan or someone I don’t know.”
“I just spent two hundred dollars in a pet store Eponine, this is madness.” Marius sighed.
“You could have given the fish away if it was that big of a problem.”
Marius looked offended, “No, I love him. Leave Marius Jr. out of this.”
“Marius Jr.? That’s the best you could come up with?” Eponine raised an eyebrow.
“Uhm…” He glanced around nervously before sighing, “Yes…”
“Well… I guess if that’s what you want.” She laughed as Marius added the last bucket of water. “Okay, I guess now we just wait on the heater to warm the water and then put the fish in?”
Eponine shrugged, “Do I look like a fish expert?”
“You knew it couldn’t live in a bowl.”
“Everyone with a brain knows a fish can’t live in a bowl.” Eponine gently flicked his forehead.
“I have a brain. Courfeyrac told me once that I am very intelligent.” Marius crossed his arms over his chest.
“Courfeyrac also wholeheartedly believes the gnomes in Musichetta’s garden come to life at night and swap places, so that’s not helping your case much.” Eponine chuckled, sitting on the couch. “Don’t trip over that extension cord by the way. It was the only way I could get the filter plugged in.”
“I won’t.” He nodded, taking a seat next to her.
“Famous last words. C’mon, let’s watch something while we wait on this fish tank to actually be suitable for fish. There’s a new crime documentary on Netflix I wanted to check out.”
“Eponine if I watch a crime documentary I won’t sleep tonight.” Marius insisted.
“You’ll be fine.”
Marius paused, and for a moment the two were in a stare off before he finally sighed. “Fine, but only because you helped me set up the fish tank…”
One crime documentary later, Marius Jr. the goldfish was happily swimming in his new home. Marius was in a trance watching the little fish swim back and forth between pieces of wood.
Eponine laughed. “Worth all the trouble?”
“Definitely.”
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tua headcanon (amusement park day!!):
it takes them approximately an hour to leave, and it's all because of klaus who keeps on adding all sorts of ridiculous things to their itinerary
and they don't plan on doing so, but somehow they all end up wearing something blue, so yay team
"are we there yet" "i sWEAR TO GOD IF SOMEBODY ASKS THAT ONE MORE TIME--"
"ARE WE THERE YET!!!!!" "jesus, klaus, what the fuck is wrong with you?" "you didn't say exclamatory sentences weren't allowed, allison"
ben just rolls his eyes and mutters "lord give me strength" under his breath
most of the time, luther's too big to go on the rides so the duty of guarding their stuff falls to him instead
after the third ride, ben notices the sad slope of luther's shoulders and opts to keep his brother company instead. when luther tells him to "go on ahead, i'm fine," ben just gives him a Look™️ and plants his butt into the seat next to his brother, making a big show of feeling pukey and pulling out the books he'd brought for the long ride
throughout the day, they make a contest out of trying to make ben smile. obviously this ben isn't as cheery as their ben, but he's still ben, if that makes any sense, and that's good enough for all six of them
surprisingly, it's five who insists on taking pictures everywhere. when they catch him buying a photo album from one of the many souvenir shops scattered around the park, none of them say a word
vanya is surprisingly hyperactive, darting here and there like a squirrel all hyped up on sugar. they don't blame her; their father never took her on "family vacations" and even if he did, it was only so someone could watch the room while they frolicked on the beach
when diego dares klaus to ride the fastest roller coaster in the park--twice!!!--in exchange for shotgun privileges later, klaus all-but drags diego onto the ride and throws his hands up the entire time. diego ends up vomiting all over klaus' shoes as a result
when they stop for lunch, allison insists that they take a proper family photo. while they wait for their food, allison edits it properly and immediately sets it as her wallpaper
the haunted house is wide enough that even luther can enter, and they all laugh when diego scares five and he teleports to the end of the hallway with a strangled yelp
"very funny diego" "oh i assure you it was, five"
ben smirks but hurriedly covers it because he wants vanya--who is slowly shaping up to be his favorite sibling--to win
there's a particularly hilarious photo of diego with his mouth wide open on the jungle jam, water spraying his entire face, and his siblings decide to get one copy each for blackmail material
they end up getting matching ugly headbands from the souvenir store. vanya and klaus wear theirs with pride throughout the park, and even though diego makes a big show of calling it ugly, he doesn't take his off either
ben spends the entire day getting to know his siblings. for some reason, he already knows a couple of the things they tell him even before they finish their sentences; an unshakable feeling that goes all the way to his bones. it's slightly unsettling, but also easy to forget when he sees the way allison's eyes light up when he somehow remembers that she's allergic to mangoes and peaches
allison practically falls over herself with delight when somebody's dog trots over to her and demands a belly rub
all of them end up being pretty attached to the dog, so discussions to have a team pet are brought up once more
"save it for the team meetings, guys" "you're the only one who actually listens to those meetings, luther" "we'll be talking about getting a dog--" "say no more”
they all tease vanya when one of the guards mistake her for a kid and almost forbids her to ride on the second tallest roller coaster in the park
luther jokingly asks her if she'd like a ride on his shoulders, and is even more surprised when she agrees, and that's how they end up walking around the park with vanya perched atop luther like a particularly huge five-year-old
five buys her a balloon to add to the joke, but soon, klaus starts complaining that he wants one as well, so five buys another and forks it over: a large bear cub that klaus names "davey" and doesn't let it out of his sight for the rest of the day
diego manages to capture a snapshot of vanya smearing chocolate sauce all over ben's cheek. he doesn't tell anyone else, but he keeps it in his wallet for a good amount of time and calls it his lucky charm
the ben contest ends when klaus swan-dives into one of the fountains, and when one of the guards try to call him out, klaus simply runs away and pretends he's a completely different person when he rejoins them, and it's so stupid but ben can't recall the last time anyone was ever this silly and fun around him, and so he snorts, and klaus immediately starts to crow because "ha, that counts!!! in your face, diego!"
they stay for the fireworks show, and when it finally starts, all seven of them sprawl out on the grass, crane their necks back, and cheer along with the rest of the crowd at the pretty lights
after a few seconds, ben realizes something’s up with klaus because his eyes have gone all glassy and not-quite-there, and when he lays a hand on his brother’s shoulder, klaus grabs his shirt collar none-too-gently before he slowly comes back to the present 
five recognizes all the signs of ptsd because he’s had them before, and before klaus can protest, he eases his brother’s head down into his lap and cards his fingers through klaus’ curly hair until he calms down. he’s still a bit jumpy every time a particularly loud one pops overhead, but he’s definitely more relaxed now that there’s something familiar to ground him
allison decides it’s been a long day for everyone after that, and no one disagrees because the sooner they get home, the sooner they can make cocoa for klaus under the pretense of being unable to sleep themselves
there's a pretty intense game of rock-paper-scissors in the parking lot over who gets to drive because all of them are bone-tired and want to nap
when luther loses, everyone mysteriously gets re-energized, and soon enough, they're singing cheesy 2000s pop songs at the top of their lungs
five keeps rolling his eyes and saying "i can just teleport home, you know" but klaus latches onto his right arm and vanya his left, and so he stays. they're still holding onto him when they fall asleep later, their heads pillowed on his shoulders, and although he makes a big show of displeasure at being used as a human stuffed toy, he rests his head against klaus' and only moves again when they're turning into their street
the next day at breakfast, klaus is still wearing the stupid headband
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tommybaholland · 4 years
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when they’re drunk [shamrock special ☘️]
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featuring: captains and vice captains (aka kuroo, bokuto, akaashi, sugawara, and kita)
mentions of drinking and general drunk antics. hope everyone who celebrated had a fun and safe st. patrick’s day! 
kuroo
he’s really fun and entertaining when he starts feeling his drinks
he likes to dance and really gets into it
if you’re lucky, you might even see him try to twerk or throw it back
he mostly likes dancing with you though 
more like watching you dance and have fun
you’re someone who prefers to stay in a little more but you haven’t regretted going out with him and all your friends since the first weekend
kuroo liked going out with you for many reasons 
his number one begin that you always looked so beautiful when you get dressed up to go out
his brain’s like, “that’s my gorgeous s/o right there”
but sometimes other people take too much notice of it for his liking and he gets a little protective over you
one time you and he were waiting for drinks at the bar and there was someone standing on the opposite side of kuroo
they lean over and decide to say hi to you and you said hi back, just to be polite 
kuroo just ignored them until you got your drinks and they try to cheers with you and keep talking to you as if kuroo’s not even there
so when you’re not looking, he decides to talk to them 
“hey, that’s my s/o you’re talking to so i need you to back off >>:(” 
he almost gets into a fight with the guy but instead goes back over to you
“i didn’t do anything, babe. can i please kiss you?”
(this gets a little more heated than just one kiss)
but he’s enjoying it knowing that the guy should be blessed to watch him make out with the most attractive person there
when you’re leaving to find your car and he’s pretty smashed at this point, he’s always losing things
“babe? babyyy where did you go-- oh, you’re right behind me, haha” 
“oh my god, babe, we have to go back. i can’t find my phone!”
he finds it like two minutes later, but enjoys your hands feeling all over him to try to locate it 
he’s also very, very flirty when he’s drunk
presses you up against the car when you find it
“i’m not irish but...can you kiss me anyway?”
bokuto
loud and chaotic, for the most part
loves a good game of beer pong or slap cup
even when he’s drunk, he gets really serious about the game
most of the time he wants you to play with him, even if you’re not that good or confident in your pong abilities 
but if you don’t play, he still likes to involve you somehow
definitely the type to have you kiss the ball for ‘good luck’ 
(after he’s cleaned it off on his shirt, of course) 
he swears by that when he makes it in but it’s also because he’s ‘just awesome’
and if there’s karaoke, well, everyone else should just go home 
because this man will sing all night if he has to 
he really gets into it and that’s what makes him pretty good at it
you have a video of him passionately singing ‘fergalicious’ 
you’re very tempted to post it on tiktok 
honestly, he’d probably let you, especially when he kills the rapping part of the song 
truly the life of the party 
but he checks up on you every now and then
“are you having fun, babe?”
and if you’re not, he wouldn’t let you leave alone and would go home with you if you wanted 
either way, he also makes sure to spend plenty of time with you, which is usually more when he’s bored of games towards the end of the night 
he gets kinda emotional and cheesy at that point
“thank you for coming out with me. you’re the best!”
“you know what, babe? i think it’s so amazing that me, the bestest guy, got paired with you, the bestest person ever!” 
“i just love you a lot, okay? :’)” 
you can always count on him if you want to have a fun night out
akaashi
very calm and relaxed
but he gets very needy and clingy when you’re with him
he tries to socialize if he’s out with you and others but he prefers to stay by your side, touching you delicately somewhere 
usually a hand on your lower back or around your hip or an arm slung around your shoulders
when you’re not around him, like when you’re in the bathroom or getting a drink, he’s still watching out for you
it’s just a little habit he has, making sure no one messes with you or your drink 
he also likes to have bokuto around because he knows he can count on him to help intervene if anything does happen
he trusts you though and knows you can handle yourself pretty well
tries to dance but isn’t the greatest at it 
but he also doesn’t like when it’s in a tight space area with a ton of people and the air is hot because it fogs up his glasses
and at the end of the night when he’s all good and liquored up
his neediness is at like level 1000
it’s like the alcohol makes it very salient in his mind that, “wait, i have an s/o and i love them so much”
so he feels like he has to tell you all things he loves about you as you’re leading him outside to catch an uber
also gets this swoon-worthy, half-lidded expression with a goofy smile to match 
“you’re so beautiful, you know that?”
“and so kind. you take such good care of me, baby”
your face gets all hot and you can’t hide your smile
you don’t even care if it’s the drinks talking bc he’s still the sweetest boy around 
and when you tell him you love him, he looks like he’s about to cry as he hugs you impossibly tight
“aww baby, i love you, too. so much.” 
he keeps an arm around you, making sure you’re warm as you wait for the uber 
(but also to keep himself steady)
leans against you during the car ride home and whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he occasionally kisses your cheek
sugawara
he’s the all-around type and a mix of the previous three
loves to dance, play games, drunkenly yell traditional cheers and songs
but he also very much enjoys and appreciates your company 
can also be very flirty at times
“you look really good tonight. did i tell you that, sugar?”
he’s not much of a fighter or one for conflict in general, but that doesn’t mean he won’t get protective over you
if anyone tries to chat you up or mess with you, he’ll try to get you out of there in the most discrete way possible
he’ll be like, “oh hey, there you are, babe! we’re over here-- oh, who’s this?”
usually, the other person will take the hint by then and back off 
but if they seem more bold and persistent, he’ll just wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you away while saying to them, “nope, sorry, that’s not happening”
unfortunately, his sweet face doesn’t help too much, so it’s nice when asahi’s also around for some intimidation tactics
he doesn’t usually like to stay out too late and likes to get home early enough so that he can spend more time alone with you
he’s a big fan of eating or cooking something after a night out 
or going to some random convenience store and drunk buying a bunch of junk food for you both 
a lot of times you end up staying up late watching something and usually, it’s a random movie 
but the alcohol always wins and you’re both asleep on the couch before the movie even finishes 
he never sleeps that well when he’s been drinking so he wakes up to turn off the tv 
he’s too inebriated to carry you to bed so he makes sure you’re comfortable and warm with him on the couch
but that usually causes you to wake up and he tries to remain as quiet as possible, his voice at a whisper
“oh, i’m sorry i woke you, sugar. c’mere, lay down on me”
the pressure from your body on his helps to stop the spins and get him to sleep more peacefully 
kita
he’s a man of moderation and not usually a heavy drinker or makes sure he’s drinking plenty of water between drinks
however, that doesn’t mean there aren’t times where he has a little too much fun
it’s a common occurrence when he’s hanging with his old teammates 
prefers a simple and quieter drinking game, like kings, instead of ones where he’d have to clean up a lot afterward
he doesn’t dance much either
he’s more out of it than anything
suna has plenty of pictures and videos of him apologizing to a house plant for ‘bumping into it’
he also wanders around a lot and gets himself lost
one time you found him in a lonely room, laying on a couch
“oh, love, there you are! did they-- did they send you in here?”
you’re like ‘who??’
you sit down and put his head in your lap 
as he tells you how he went to look for water but found this room and decided to lay down
“and someone came in here and tried to lay my head in their lap and touch my face. i think maybe they tried to kiss me too.. but i said, ‘no you can’t do that because i have an s/o. don’t you know that?’ and then i told them to go tell you that i’m in here.”
you tell him that no one told you but that you were looking for him
“well, i’m glad you found me”
he leans up and tries to snuggles into your shoulder
“why would they even come in here? couldn’t they see i was laying down? also, i’m pretty sure everyone here knows that we’re together so why would they do that when you’re the only one i want?”
he becomes kinda emotional and inquisitive about it but you think it’s adorable
even if he’s a little out of it when he’s been drinking, he still knows to put up boundaries when necessary 
you stay there with him for a little bit longer, eventually laying down with him on top of you, his head on your chest 
“let me know if i’m too heavy, okay?”
you kiss his head and rub his back soothingly 
you’re actually kinda looking forward to taking care of him when you get home
because he always takes such good care of you <3
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just our luck that it’s haikyuu night, huh? send a request for more luck!
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starryasmo · 4 years
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Cottagecore MC x Demon Brothers
this has a bonus chapter with the undateables in the making!! cross posted on my ao3, which can be found in my bio ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ ☆☆
——— 
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Sometimes, Lucifer wondered truly how innocent you could be.
You were simply the purest. You were like a little woodland fairy, flitting about and bouncing upon mushrooms and through the foliage of the Devildom as you skittered about, doing your tasks diligently and with a warm smile all the while. Your delight at seeing a tree in your room was like that of the warm sun of the human world, the sun that Lucifer remembered as golden rays and a warm embrace. You would hum as you completed your tasks and when you finished, you would beam proudly at your handiwork, and Lucifer would swear on his life that he could see the pale white sparkles surrounding your face as you preened at your hard work, bringing an innocuous light to the usually dark and enigmatic Devildom.
You were as cute as a human could be, with doll lashes framing sweet gentle eyes and fluttering against cherubic cheeks that flushed with pink. Mammon had even tried to market you as a doll to sell at one point, and Leviathan liked to have you standing next to his Ruri-chan life-sized cardboard cutout or figurines to make it feel like his collection was complete. You smelled of tea leaves and spring petals and warm sugar cookies and soft cream puffs, and the scents brought a small dosage of serotonin to Lucifer’s heart whenever you passed by. When you weren’t in your RAD uniform, you liked to dress up in pale peasant blouses, flouncy pinafore dresses, and cozy knits that Satan would gift you. You were like a forest wanderer, skipping along the trails of the Devildom as if it were a leisure stroll through the woods, wicker basket hanging off your arm as you hummed, carefree and bright. Had you been anyone else, Lucifer would have scolded you for your naivety as to walking carelessly in a world of ravenous demons, but one look in your pure, sweet eyes, and the words died on his tongue like melted snow.
You had even managed to attain the favor of the other six brothers, albeit you had no clue that you had six of the seven overlords of Hell vying for your attention and your gentle smile as you invited the Little D’s to have tea with you in your room.
Mammon would accompany you to the human world market on Wednesdays when you went to go shop for groceries and to buy little trinkets. He’d trail after your happy figure, your linen apron fluttering in the early spring breezes as you filled your basket with vegetables and meat, as well as sweet bread, milk, and sugar. At first, he’d been reluctant, trudging after you boredly because it had been his obligation to accompany you to the human world and bring you back. However, after he’d noticed you always tucking the afternoon tea menus into the pockets of your dress and buying hand painted teacups from the shop with the elderly owner more often than not, he’d questioned your motives, and you introduced him to starting collections of things that you found pleasing. Now, whenever Wednesday struck, he was pulling you along excitedly to the human realm, eager to add on to his collections of cute rings, little trinkets such as lockets and charms, and other treasures that caught his eye. You had even bought him a comical-like treasure chest for him to store his newest finds in. Every time he finished a collection, something new would catch his eye, and he’d be rushing to buy it. It was one of the perfect ways to spend leisure time with the second born. He especially loved it when you invited him to bake with you, surprisingly. He passed it off with the excuse that he could sell some of the pastries and make good money, but he found himself eagerly looking forward to you waking him up gently in the wee hours of the morning on the weekends so you two could sneak into the kitchen and bake something. Those hours were usually spent baking batches upon batches of treats, enough to satiate Beelzebub’s ravenous urges and still have enough left over for everyone else. You two would dust powdered sugar on each other’s cheeks, sharing laughs and jokes as you cleaned each other up. The treat that Mammon liked to bake with you the most was your infamous honey tarts. They tasted delicious, and they reminded him of gold, therefore combining his two favorite things — gold, and you. He loved spending time with you that way, and when you’d offered to feed him a honey tart once, he was sure that something in him short circuited.
Leviathan wasn’t as easily convinced as Mammon had been. Being someone who preferred to stay in his room, he was a lot more hesitant to allow you to visit his room, especially considering your fondness with nature and his aversion to it, as cute as you were. However, you had noticed the plants that he’d gotten just to give his limited edition porcelain Ruri-chan flower pots a purpose, and your sweet and gentle smile had twisted into a slight frown, which had caused his heart to shrink and tighten up in slight fear upon seeing your calm and loving demeanor fade, although he would deny it to this day. When you lifted the pots from their shelves, he’d tutted anxiously, warning you with rushed words to be careful. You had sighed and carefully emptied out the pots, filling them with richer soil from the farms of the human world. You had brought some flower seeds with you, and you had pulled Leviathan over from his game to help you. He couldn’t deny that the way that your soft and gentle hands guided his to tend to the flowers was something that pleased him greatly, and when the first blooms had sprouted from the soil, you had smiled before giving each bloom a small kiss on the bud, and while the sight was totally moe, it sparked up that familiar twinge of envy in Leviathan’s heart, which he shoved down quickly in favor of seeing your beautiful smile as you kissed the blossoms. Your hands were gentle in handling both the flower pots and in squeezing his and untangling his fingers from his hair during anxiety attacks or episodes, and they were probably his favorite thing about you. They were incredibly soft, and your fingers were delicate and smelled like the light lemon pies you would bring in during gaming sessions to feed him while he played. You loved baking for him, and he loved it when you baked for him, especially when you would decorate the desserts to make them seem like they were straight out of a fantasy anime. He honestly liked sneaking peeks into the kitchen to see you baking more than he liked the desserts themselves, but he’d be damned if he ever told you that. After all, he needed the perfect dating sim route to go slow and steady, right?
Getting along with Satan was something that had come surprisingly easy to you once you got past his distrusting facade, because nobody, especially not a human, could possibly be this gentle and sweet . When you had earned his trust, however, you two would pass the wee hours after studying by curling up before the ornate fireplace and reading together, cups of enchanted cocoa steaming next to you. You enjoyed reading with him — his presence was comfortable and warm, and more often than not, he would read to you in a silky smooth voice that you absolutely adored. When Diavolo had sent you to the human world to retrieve some of your belongings in order to make you feel more at home, one of the things you had brought back was a thick book full of fairytales and worn pages. That was the thing that had caught his eye the most, and when you’d noticed him reading not-so-subtly over your shoulder, you had shot him a gentle smile and began to read the story of Hansel and Gretel aloud to him. Of course, he didn’t understand the merit of the story, but hearing your voice reading all these fantastical stories of grandiose warriors and heartwarming romances was enough to make his heart melt. Your voice was probably his favorite thing about you — it was soothing and sweet, like a sip of his favorite tea. Earl grey, which you somehow knew already because you were a clever little pixie of a human who could read him like an open book, no pun intended. You even made it the way he liked it. He especially loved hearing you talk to his cats about mindless little things, even if he thought that they couldn’t understand you and you couldn’t understand them. Truth be told, he liked hearing you chatter to any woodland creature; when you two went to the human realm together, he noticed that you would always stop to tell the birds about your day, or strike up a friendly conversation with the bunnies who lived in the rosebushes, or tell the deer that seemed to draw towards you about Satan himself and how kind he was. You always seemed so happy to talk to them, even if they couldn’t understand you. He was becoming unsure of that, however, but he ignored it. Why dwell on that when he could watch you chatter with the frogs and ducks by the pond instead?
Asmodeus was quick to smother you with affection. How could he not? You were as cute as a button and twice as precious, and you smelled like honey and wild berries! You were simply too cute for him to resist. Almost immediately after your transfer to the House of Lamentation, he’d whisked you into his room and sat you down for an impromptu makeup session. You’d been a bit overwhelmed at the fast pace, but eventually just let it happen as you let him do your makeup. He couldn’t stop crooning at how cute you looked, both naturally and with touches of subtle but elegant makeup here and there. He had definitely taken you out to find clothes that you liked at Majolish, and he’d entertained your hobbies of collecting little trinkets by taking you to shops that sold items that you liked. In return, you gifted him little homemade pieces of jewelry you made, such as the gold necklace with flower charms and little baby buds on it that you’d given him for his birthday, or the honey earrings and bee pendant you’d made him as a thank you gift for taking you to a farmer’s market when everyone else had been busy. Picnics in the human realm were also a common occurrence with you two, and they usually ended in you two weaving flowers into each other’s hair and telling each other stories as you snacked on blueberry cheesecake and passionfruit tarts. You would bring two portable cups for the two of you, and the drink would be different every time — some days, it would be raspberry cordial for him and a berry mix for you, and other days he would get a sweet latte while you sipped on honey tea. There was never a dull moment with you two, and you loved running through grassy lavender fields with him, especially when he would catch up with you and lift you by your waist, the breeze filtering through your hair and ruffling the skirt of your dress as you let out giddy giggles that brought a blossom of warmth to his chest, right under his heart. The sun would beam down upon you two and kiss your scalps gently, and you would lean on Asmodeus’ shoulder with a contented smile, never really noticing the faint twinges of pink on his cheeks or the way he subtly pulled you closer to him.
Beelzebub, truth be told, didn’t really like you at first, although he never expressed it. You reminded him too much of Lilith, too much of her breezy laugh and gentle smile and pure demeanor, and even though he knew that you weren’t trying to replace her and that you didn’t know what had happened, it still hurt to look at you and see Lilith’s face flicker behind his eyelids. However, when the events of freeing Belphegor and you dying had occurred, Beelzebub had felt a primal desire to protect you, defend you, save you , rip through his body like a papercut. He wanted to protect you. You , not Lilith. So he embraced that change and tried to be a bit more friendly with you, which he found surprisingly easy. No doubt had you noticed the shift in his demeanor around you, and while it miffed you slightly that it took you dying and freeing his twin brother for it to happen, you were still happy that he didn’t seem to hate you anymore. You weren’t Lilith, he knew. And he didn’t see her when he looked at you anymore. What sealed the deal for him, however, was when you were put on cooking duty. He’d tried Solomon’s cooking before and left his plate untouched for the rest of the night, but when he came downstairs on your first night to see what you had prepared for them, he was met with a pleasant smell that had his mouth filling with drool as he trailed after the scent, right into the kitchen, like a moth drawn to a flame. Luckily, you were plating the food by the time he made it into the kitchen, and his eyes roved over a main course of sweet chickpea potato curry with halloumi and roasted cherry tomatoes, accompanied with mushrooms and sauced lamb chops. Next to the bowl of curry was a plate of strawberry beignets dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with maple syrup. You had ever so kindly offered him one — one , mind you — and he’d been stunned at how incredible your cooking was. Needless to say, with your constant gifts to Beelzebub in the form of steamy homemade soup with toasted croutons or treacle tarts with dollops of cream, it wasn’t a surprise that he found himself adoring you and showing you more affection than any of the other brothers.
Belphegor, of course, hadn’t met you until a bit later after your transfer. Despite your frankly adorable features and demeanor, he wasn’t below deceiving you and killing you. Although he acted like he adored you and was smitten with your gentle and sweet personality, his hands still gripped your throat until what was supposed to be your final breath. However, unlike all of his other victims, something in him had shriveled up in horror upon seeing your delicate eyes wide with fear and pain. Something in him had eaten at his stomach uncomfortably when he saw the blood from your neck dripping down his nails and staining the pure white of your linen apron. His mind had been flooded with a split second tidal wave of pure shock and horror at what he had done when your fragile body ceased to move. When you came back due to Barbatos’ power, he couldn’t help but throw his arms around you desperately after he got over the tiny spark of anger in his mind. You, being the sweet and forgiving angel that you were (not literally), dismissed it, and although you were weary around him, you soon learned to lighten up and trust him again. You did slip a few times around him due to reflex, like when you’d accidentally burned your hand against the tray of pastry croissants and golden twist rolls that you’d pulled out of the oven when you turned around and he was suddenly there, sitting on the counter, towering over you. However, you found yourself warming up to him in time, and when you’d invited him to come up to your own little leafy treehouse in the mossy forest, he’d felt a bit honored that you had invited him out of all the brothers. There, you two had shared snacks and pressed your hands against the lilypads in the pond. You two had sat at the edge of the lake, looking around at the variety of mushrooms surrounding you two while your feet dipped in the water, talking about everything and nothing at all. It was just the two of you enjoying a quiet moment together, and when you two had climbed the tall tree back to the treehouse, you fell asleep with your legs loosely tangled together, listening to the sound of rain pattering the windows.
With how quickly you charmed his brothers and were able to get them to be at your every beck and call, even without the pact, Lucifer would have thought that you were an angel in disguise, or perhaps a magical being. Perhaps a pixie, or a woodland fairy, or maybe a little doll come to life.
But he was soon to find out that your charm was all natural, no magic.
It had started when you’d knocked gently on the door to his study, carrying a tray in your slightly shaking hands. Perhaps you were intimidated by him — the thought of your sweet and cheerful nature being withered by fear of him was a thought that made his chest swell with pride. Either way, you had let yourself in upon his approval, setting the tray down on the part of his desk that wasn’t swamped in paperwork.
With a small voice, you explained to him that you’d learned a bit of magic due to your time in the woods, and you had charmed the treats that you brought him — soft tea cakes with sweet glaze and your signature ‘lucky tea’; a brew of dried gold clover, lotus petals, and enchanted honey. The tea cakes were supposed to relieve pains in your muscles and bones, and the glaze was steeped in mountain snow, so it was supposed to relieve Lucifer of the burn in his body due to stress. The tea had calming properties, as well as being charmed to grant the consumer good luck for a short amount of time. You said that you hoped it would help Lucifer breeze through the paperwork stacked on his desk. He hadn’t reacted much other than a slow eyebrow raise, a nod of thanks, and a dismissal. You bowed at the waist and scampered off, clutching the hem of your apron anxiously.
Most of your other interactions had been more lighthearted, like when he’d swiped a small dollop of ganache from where you were baking molten lava cakes. He’d used his finger to smudge the chocolate across your nose, and you blinked, snapping out of your baking trance, before giggling slightly and wiping it off with your thumb, sucking the sweet concoction off of your finger. Lucifer had followed the motion with his eyes and briefly wondered what else he could get away with, if only to elicit those soft little reactions from you.
He also noticed that you never reacted the way anyone else would have when Asmodeus made a dirty joke, or when Mammon nudged you into the more scandalous clothing sections of Majolish. When you heard those comments from Asmodeus, you simply blinked and voiced your confusion. When mammon tried to get you to dress in skimpy leather or latex, you frowned slightly and said that the clothing wasn’t really your type before opting to go over to the sections you usually shopped in.
Later, he learned that you had grown up alone, with only the woods and your otherworldly connection with nature keeping you alive. You had only started interacting with others at the ripe age of eight years old — before that, you lived amongst the small creatures of the forest, feeding off of the foods they brought you, as if they were your family. Perhaps they were. You spent most of your life building shelters for yourself, until you were old enough and experienced enough to begin building your own cottage. It was a quaint little stone cottage, nothing fancy, and it was humble and hidden away, and you absolutely loved it. You had spent most of your life in it, baking tarts and pastries with the ingredients you bought from the merchants in your village in exchange for rare mushrooms, seeds, and plants with healing properties that you seemed to have a sixth sense for finding. Most of your life had been spent frolicking in the woods, swimming in the lake and snacking on pastries of your own creation and chatting with the woodland creatures you encountered. You were a creature of the forest, a creature of flower scented skin and a honey voice.
What an innocent being you were, Lucifer mused over a cup of your lucky tea. The teacup, he noticed, was one of your favorites, the porcelain one with the gold rim and the hand painted floral design. Briefly, he wondered how you found the time to collect all of these things, all while pulling together so many gifts for him and his brothers and still miraculously completing each of your tasks with perfect marks.
His eyes flickered to the plate on the same tray — hand carved and painted by you yourself, and he was the only one who got this privilege; honestly, it was going to make his heart combust — that the tea had come on, the circular dish scattered in crumbs and smears of cream and jam from your latest impulse baking session; heart shaped waffles with cream and raspberry puree. Of course, Beelzebub had immediately poked his head into the kitchen at the smell of fresh fruit and waffles, but you had managed to hide some from his hungry eye — just enough to give to the rest of the brothers. Of course, you had taken the liberty of drawing a little panda bear on one of the two waffles you’d given him, using chocolate and cream, because he was special to you, he knew he was, and because he was special, you gave him special treatment. Just the thought of it brought a prideful smile to his face, lips twisted somewhat informally.
Perhaps he’d made the right choice in sneakily slipping your folder away for future reference during the selection process of the exchange students.
But nobody needed to know that but him.
100 notes · View notes
binniesthighs · 4 years
Text
two tails | reader x minho |
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Three 
Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho 
Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff 
Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, floristnpunk!jisung, gradstudent!jeongin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of previous kinda sad relationships 
Word count: 5.4k (y e e h a w) 
Tagging: @lauraneuuh​
Chapters 
P | ONE | TWO | THREE | ?
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zeal noun 
: eagerness and ardent interest in the pursuit of something: fervor 
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Seungmin never liked your cooking, or at least, he’d often mumble this into his spoon while beginning his second serving. He was probably just being nice, or respectful. Your best friend of four years had never been less. 
Aside from the fact the he had a 70 pound golden retriever, never had you once seen a strand of that golden hair cling to the cloth of his winter coats. In the autumn, he would drive you in his hand-me-down ‘91 Mitsubishi to the city where you would tutor the English students just so you wouldn’t have to bear the cold of the subway. In the summers he would toss soju down his throat with you, sitting on the carpet of your living room and turning his head to the side with a hand raised to hide his glass. In the spring, he would remember your birthday--several months before his--and take you to coffee shops and bookstores, then the grocery store (which he knew you hated) and would buy for you the most expensive beef he could find. 
You would cook the meat for the two of you, and he would say that he liked it...even if you had charred it black on the edges. 
Seungmin flicked at the little aluminum tab on his beer can while he watched you murder yet another plate of perfectly fine vegetables on your stovetop. 
“At least it smells nice.” You flipped the circle of white onion. 
“It does.” He returned, nonchalant, flicking the beer tab a little poink. 
“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Too tired to complain about those dicks from the marketing team? They put you on a shitty pitch again didn’t they?” 
“Every pitch is a shitty pitch there. God, you wouldn’t believe the kinds of slogans that they make me say sometimes. It’s humiliating.” 
“Hey, you’re the one that took the pay raise over that job at that high school.” 
“Well, you didn’t have rent staring you dead in the face and a dog that’s practically active and sentient enough to be a real child.” He slugged down a sip of his drink. “I’m a single father you know.” 
“As if!” You choked out your laughter. “Since when did you turn into Hyunjin? You were never one for dramatics anyway.” 
“Go get your vegetables, they’ll burn.” He nodded his head to the stove. The thing was, they were already burnt. 
You salvaged what you could of the vegetables then placed them over your rice balls (not intended to be balls in the first place) and the chicken strips which had undoubtedly been seasoned just a little too much. You slid the ceramic bowl in front of him. At least it was steaming. That was a good sign. 
Seungmin nodded a little in thanks, then let out a less than obvious sigh before taking his first bite. 
“Spicy...but good.” 
The way that his breath sounded thin made it convincing enough to you that it wasn’t just “spicy.” 
He scrunched up his face in that adorably puppy-like way that you had long gotten used to. 
“Really. Tell me. It isn’t the pitches. Don’t pretend like I can’t read you.” 
Your best friend squeezed his eyes shut with a rather generous slug of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Whaaaat?” You whined a little while opening up your own can. “Oh my god. It’s that girl from the art division. She has a boyfriend doesn’t she? Dammit.” 
“No.” Your friend drew the disdain in his eyes up to you from the chicken that had made his nose start to run. He wiped at it quickly. 
“I hope it’s not my mother that’s getting to you. She’s too damn nosy for her own good and twice as cocky as she should be. Don’t listen to her. What did she tell you anyway?” 
Seungmin poked at his food with his fork then twisted a crispy-tipped red pepper. “Have you talked to him again?”
“--Minho?”
You shied at the memory of meeting him on his morning run two days prior. He would go out at nearly 8:00 on the dot every morning, just when the sun started to peek into the dewy pink and blue mornings.
“You should put on a sweater if you’re going to get up this early for those plants of yours. Don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Yes.” You answered your friend. A tiny ache pinged at your chest--and it wasn’t the kind that felt all twisted. “He asked me to watch the meteor shower with him this weekend. I hope I can cook something edible for him.”
Seungmin’s knee bounced, “Aren’t you at least at little suspicious of him?”
“Suspicious? Why would I be?”
“You hardly even know anything about him, or where he came from, what he does for a living--”
“--Now you’re starting to sound like my mother Seung. Relax. Besides, sometimes it doesn’t take much to feel...comfortable around a person. I mean, look at us! Soju nights started like, three weeks after we met. And I do know where he works. He works for a company that makes windows; fancy ones.” 
“Windows?” He cocked a brow. 
“He did say that it was kind of boring...” 
“I just--” Your friend sighed out, resting anxious hands on his knees. Here he was again, being nice and respectful, like always. “--You could get hurt if you’re not careful.” 
“What?”
“I’m saying, don’t get your hopes up.” 
“Geez Seung...” Your voice trailed off with a different pain in your chest. This was the kind that twisted. 
His expression softened, and he lent a hand to your shoulder, lingering, squeezing lightly. “Your mom...she told me to look after you...not like I do that already with you falling all over yourself and burning things...I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 
“Hm. Thanks.” 
“You’re also miserable to deal with when you’re sad. You make me blow my grocery budget with how much frickin’ ice cream and freezer tater tots you force me to get.” 
“You like those tater tots too though.” 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
Bomi purred in your lap swaddled into a little ball of white, orange, black and brown. She was napping, or rather, trying to nap with the way that her little cat-shaped eyes blinked slowly. You tried your best to soak every little moment of it up: you knew that with her, it would be fleeting. There was something supremely calming about being close to your little furball like this. After all the love that you poured over her in the form of useless cat toys and new cat food every week, this somehow made it all worth it. 
You tapped lightly at your keyboard, not too harshly, just lightly enough so that you wouldn’t startle your sleeping cat. The tips of your toes were cold, but you didn’t dare to move to grab a blanket to ruin the moment. Outside, a light spring rain befell on your small cement patio. Droplets of the warm showers patted at the roof of your home softly. 
Your eyes had grown tired and dry at this late hour, but the end of the chapter was near. One more time you hovered your mouse over the little notification bar, clicking at it for that one last push of motivation: 
Bomi needs to quit MESSING AROUND. Blaze is right in front of her!!! Ahhhh I want them to get together soooo bad 
Is Herbie okay?? Poor bb, its so cute how we would do anything for Bomi. 
Bomi: 
Blaze: 
*now kiss* 
Are we really getting to the end of Book 1??? This has been such an amazing story N/n, I always look forward to your updates <3 they make my Thursdays hehe 
I can feel like something big and bad is coming...oh no...I hope that Blaze and Bomi make it through  
A thankful little chuckle hummed on your lips, then you pressed enter to start a new paragraph. 
“Oh Bomi,” You exhaled, “If only Blaze knew how you felt too.” 
Chapter 27 
...The group journeyed through the cavern with flickering white flames dancing and casting shadows on the stone walls dripping in stalactites. Bomi held on to the hilt of her sword tighter with a sense of dread creeping up her throat. Blaze looked onward, much as he had been doing these days. 
His leg was wrapped in a bloodied bandage: a reminder of the battle won against the Boar in Hilgram. He had jumped in front of her as he had countless times before. 
“Hello??” Blaze’s voice echoed against the long and winding chambers of the cave. In his tone he was confident, but his shoulders still shook with an uncertainty. 
Herbie’s little hedgehog feet patted the damp floor, and he looked up at his Princess with fear in his soft black eyes. The little velvet banner wrapped around his body had been torn and tattered from one too many battles. 
Had it been darker, Bomi wondered if she had reached out for Blaze’s hand to find in him. She shook her head with her resolve, eyes painfully shut. It was only in the darkness that she allowed herself to want for him. 
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Today must be one of those spring-summer days.
Your warbled reflection chased after you in the blue glass of the university’s library windows. You had hoped that no one was on the other side watching you as you wrinkled up your nose to look like one of those devilish gargoyles that you had been writing of the night before. From the inside, rows and rows of books were lined up perfectly, however there were almost no students inside. It always did make you a little sad how few students would be there when you clocked in for your mandatory office hours.
Spring-summer days meant that the businesswomen on the sidewalks had exchanged with trousers with flowing skirts and little clicky ballet flats and each businessman had his tie and collar tugged down. There was a comforting warmth to the spring air that reminded you of your own college days when you and your friends--long gone now--had stayed up late to study, then would scour the buzzing streets for snacks. Things were much simplier then.
At the library’s entrance, budding tulips and geraniums of light purple hues were greeted by round bumblebees. Had the city not been as loud as it was, you could nearly hear the cicadas in the park on the east edge of the shining silver building.
You bowed slightly to the attendant at the desk who always would smile at you with adorable smiling eyes to match. She would often wear earrings of strange shapes that you had never seen before. She wore a lanyard too that had little cat paw prints decorating it; it was because of this you knew she was someone you could trust.
“Are you having a nice week?” You said to her customarily.
“Oh, I am. It’s always the same around here. My daughter will be having her baby soon! Sometimes I think that I’m more excited than she is.”
“You’ll have to tell me when that happens so I can bring her a gift, okay?”
The attendant smiled warmly, and nodded you off with a little oh, you don’t have to.
“Remember your key card this time?” She watched as you jingled around your own keys with the obsessive amount of plastic and silicon keychains.
You tsked. It seemed like nearly everyone in your life had now known how forgetful you tended to be sometimes.
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be over there.”
Once more the two of you exchanged little bows and you made your way over to the back of the four storied library with the atrium of trees in between. There was a marble fountain encircled by the trees that had little oval shaped leaves. Two tiny birds, all black, bounced from branch to branch. It was your secret, but you had written about that fountain many times in your writing, but you were the only one who knew that it was real.
You tapped the reader to hear that familiar do-do doot along with the flash of the green lock. As always, the study room was a bit messy with eraser shavings sprinkled about and the odd dry marker laying next to the trashcan where someone had tried to toss it in, but had missed. The minute hand on the wall clock scooted right on to the 12.
“Are you busy?” That fluff on white hair peeked into your study room just like clockwork.
“For my favorite student? Do you even have to ask?”
Jeongin, the oldest and most attentive student in your class hopped in with his adorably boy-ish charm. Regardless of the fact that he was in the last year of his grad degree, it was impossible for him to look that old. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but he technically shouldn’t have been in your class for undergrads, but you weren’t going to stop him.
“Why’d you decide to take this class anyway?” You would ask him.
He’d answer, “For fun.” with that cute little smile of his.
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“I just got here.” You pulled out a seat for him.
“Oh. Good. I was wondering if you could proof read my short story again. I’m having trouble with the ending. I just don’t think I understand all the way how to make it full circle like you said in lecture.”
He unzipped his leather backpack: obviously a gift from someone in his family that must have thought it would make him look his age. It didn’t. What didn’t help further was how he had adorned it with all kinds of keychains; much like your own keys. It was because of this that you knew he was someone you could trust.
His manuscript already had dozens of scribbles in his own handwriting with tons of question marks riddling the margins. 
“Let me take a look.”
You skimmed the pages of the short story--one which you had already read the week prior--for all of his new edits. The notes made it a bit hard to read, but you were used to how he would make a mess of his papers now. He leaned in close to you with glossy eyes that might have even twinkled a little like a cartoon. Both of his knees bounced furiously while he watched you read, and would look from the paper, to your face, then back to the paper, then back to your face...
“Is-is it good? Better?”
Jeongin had written a love story. His first one that you had known of. It was about a boy and a girl who had met on an airplane, and had been seated together. The two of them found out that they had shared so much about their two lives without ever meeting until this very moment. They had realized they went to the same high school, worked in the same building, and were travelling for the same reason: to meet up with someone that they had once loved. It was beautiful, tragic, and in some ways, familiar.
“I think that it’s wonderful Jeongin. The edits that you made to it from last week really help with the narrative flow as well as the vertical plot. You’re really good at asking the deeper questions behind the piece like “why are they really there,” and “why is it important that they are there.” All you need to do is tie it up.” 
“But howwww?” Jeongin slumped in his wheely chair. “What should I say?” 
“Well...” You tapped your pen to your lip. “The ending scene is when they land at the airport right? Why don’t you have your main character say something that calls back to all of their similarities and makes it seem like they’ve known eachother all along?” 
“But I don’t want it to seem like they’re going to forget eachother.” 
“They won’t. You established that they’ve both found something different than what they were looking for in the first place.” 
Your student’s face tangled up into concentrated knots and he puffed those thin strands of bleached white hair away from his eyes. 
“I could say...‘see you at home’? Or...maybe that’s too cheesy--” 
“--No it’s not! If you like it, I think that it also fits the story well. Its like, now they understand, and they’ve got something in eachother now that they hadn’t had before; also juxtaposing with your themes of travelling to make a reference to home.” 
“Damn, you’re much better at this kind of stuff than I am...” Jeongin wrote down the new ending on his print out. 
“Its just...what I like to do.” 
“I’m glad I came.” He grinned out with his mischievous and trademark smile. “How’s your story going by the way? Almost finished?” 
“Oh...” 
A heat rose in your cheeks. You had decided to tell Jeongin about Princess Bomi a few weeks back, but you had neglected to tell him exactly what the story was about. That was a secret better kept to yourself. 
“Its...good. I think. My readers seem to really like it.” 
“Maybe you’ll let me read it someday. I bet there would be tons of other people who would like to read it too, you know, outside of the internet.” 
“That’s what I’ve been told...” Hyunjin’s urgings echoed in your head. “Maybe...” Your eyes wandered to those scribblings of his. “How about we make a deal?” 
“What kind of deal?” 
“Once we get both of our stories sorted, lets submit them together. I’m sure people would like to read yours too.” 
“Mine?!” Your adorable student’s face flushed as deeply pink as the sweater he wore. “Oh no, no no no no no.” 
“I’m telling you it’s good! Its relatable, raw, well written. It never hurts to try. How about submitting it for the literary journal they do at the end of the semester?” 
“You mean the one that all the arts majors read and fuckin’ eviscerate?? Hell no.” 
“Hey, I could get eviscerated too by my chief editor.” 
Jeongin gulped with his terrified, brown, cartoon-character glistening eyes boring holes into his manuscript. 
You sang, “~Wanna go down together~?” 
“A-as long as we’re going down together...I guess it’s worth a shot.” 
“Alright then!!” 
He made a little sound of disgust, then shoved his papers back into his much-too-old-for-him bag. “That was all I needed to ask you for. Thank you.” He bowed with respect. “I won’t be bothering you for too long today.” 
“You wrote a good story Jeongin.” 
“Mm. Thank you.” His smile turned into a tiny flustered line. 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
STUPID NEW CAT FOOD. AGAIN. 
In one hand, you held the crinkled up grocery list with angry doodles of your cat folded into the corners of the page. You didn’t quite know if cats had eyebrows like the ones you had drawn onto your cat’s smug face, but you were for certain that this cat must’ve had them...and they were angry. 
Bomi had selfishly decided at the end of your week that she no longer liked the last brand of cat food that you had found on the shelves of the grocery store. It was the brand stored next to the one that you had nearly concussed Minho with. 
You were at your wits end. There must have been something wrong with your cat--to hell with her being a picky eater. Maybe she really was just a little alien inside there. A little alien that hated cat food. The image of you sitting at your dining table across from Bomi eating two plates of people food crossed your mind. She picked up the fork with her white paw and dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. The idea didn’t seem the most out of reach. 
In your other hand was your phone opened to the maps app with the small blue dot leading you to the specialty pet store. 
“Damn spoiled, stuck up, good for nothing, pain in my as--” 
“Hey! Blossom??” 
Your head whipped around so fast you cracked the bones of your neck with a startling pop. You rubbed at your neck to ease the pain. 
“You okay?” 
At first you figured you must have dreamt him up in your neck-induced-pain. You cursed at your overactive imagination, still just as strong as it was when you had been small. 
Blaze in the flesh he was alllll the way from his battered Converse to his stupidly handsome curly hair. 
You laughed out incredulously with a hand still glued to the back of your neck. 
“Didn’t think that I would be seeing you around here again. Or at least, I was kind of hoping that I would.” 
He marched right up to you with that same smile you had pictured on Princess Bomi’s companion countless times before. Today he wore a leather jacket over the arms that you knew were covered in all kinds of flowers and vines. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that he had said he was hoping to see you. 
“Sorry if I startled you. I was just...really surprised.” 
“You’re fine, it’s fine.” 
You neck didn’t tell you it was fine. 
“What are you doing around here?” 
“Pet store.” Was all you could get out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but for someone who worked at a flower shop, he did end up smelling an awful lot like flowers. It was a sweet aroma, much like your garden. 
“Ahh, I just got off.” 
You walked on, also not noticing that he had started to follow you a couple steps behind. 
“I realized I didn’t get your name last time.” 
“Oh. It’s Y/n.” 
He hummed with a smirk. “I do kinda like Blossom more.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets with a wistful little sigh. “Pretty nickname for someone as pretty as yourself.” 
“Psh. Stop.” You had said it sarcastically, but you didn’t intend for your heart to skip as harshly as it did when he had said so. 
“You’ve got a pet then? Dog? Cat?” 
“Cat. Just one.” 
“I wish I could take care of a pet like that. Don’t think I would be too good at it though. I see myself as more of a plant person. They’re quiet, don’t do too much, and they sort of love you back in their own way.” 
“How's that?” 
“By growing. And flowering. Changing colors and looking good in your windowsill. Nothing too crazy.” 
“I...guess I can see what you mean.” 
He flicked at the black hoop pierced into his lip in the way that you certainly hadn’t forgotten; and you were one for forgetting much. 
“Mind if I go in with you? I don’t have a whole lot going on.” 
Jisung. You had also remembered his name. He carried Blaze with him in the way that he had that fiery glint in his eye like he knew he was getting away with something. He was brash and forward, and charming as all hell. The sunset of blood orange and cotton candy pink seemed to melt into his shoulders where he stood before you in the golden hour of the evening. A yellow carnation was tucked into the pocket of his jacket. 
“You don’t have to...” 
He had already made up his mind, and swung open the door to the pet shop neighboring the floral shop. You didn’t know how you had missed it. 
The squawking of birds chimed with the bells hung over the shop door. 
“You coming?” He held it open for you. 
You sheepishly entered before him, nearly tripping on the little incline to the entrance and catching yourself three seconds before disaster. 
Jisung prompted, “Lead the way.” 
Normally you would have been concerned over the cleanliness of the store, but that seemed insignificant compared to the way that he looked around all in his Blaze-like wonder. He widened his eyes at the rows of fish tanks and twiddled with the little feather cat toys at the ends of the isles. 
Granted, he seemed much more immersed in the kinds of aquatic plants and moss balls that they had rather than the cute bunnies and mice, but still, you couldn’t help but shy away when he caught your glances. 
“Glad that I joined ya Blossom.” 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
There was something about Minho that felt like a lullaby. He wore a lavender colored sweater when he arrived at your doorstep: of course it was pooling into paws at his hands as always. The collar dipped deep enough for you to see the tops of his collarbones, and they were gorgeous and curved. His eyes wrinkled a little under his wire framed glasses when he would smile: that of which would also look like the little grin of a bunny. Effortlessly his brown hair kissed his forehead. 
He would speak softly and carefully, and listen to everything that you had said to him as if it was the most important thing in the world. His feet were too big for your spare pair of house slippers and he had a tiny hole in his khaki pants right by the waistline. Minho greeted Bomi with a tiny “aigoo” and she let him sweep her up into his arms where he bounced her lightly. She would never let you do that. Traitor. 
“Your home is very...you.” He had complimented. You had no idea what that meant. 
His lips were pink and glossy with drips of that peach soju that you had bought in the hopes that he would like it. It turned out that it was his favorite flavor. 
You wanted so badly to kiss the peachy flavor off of those lips. 
He had laughed a little at your array of cat-related home decor, laughing the most at your dish towels that had two fat cats on them that looked like chefs. He said that he had seen a movie once and the characters reminded him of that. 
The two of you sat outside on your patio on the wire chairs that would imprint designs into the back of your legs. The air mixed with the smell of your citronella candle and the scent of the roasted duck that you had attempted to make for him. You really shouldn’t have tried to make something for the first time when it was also his first time coming over. 
Maybe he was just being nice, but he had said it tasted good. 
It did not taste good, but rather harshly of salt and too much rosemary. 
Bomi rubbed at his legs under the table and even hiked herself up on two feet to peek into his lap. As much as it hurt to see your traitorous cat act this way, it was because of this that you knew he was someone that you could trust. Minho gave her head scratches and insisted to help you with the dishes--a mistake on his part. It took all of two minutes before you had a mishap with the detachable sink head, and soaked through his sweater. 
“Maybe I just shouldn’t trust you with water then?” He chuckled while dabbing away at the fabric. 
“That probably would be best.” 
Minho was a lullaby in the way that he laid down next to you on that quilt you had made in a crafting class some years ago. All of the patches were disjointed the the color scheme made very little sense, but it was stull functional. He kept his hands folded to his chest with reverence. His chest rose and fell calmly, and his body heat floated over to you. His presence was something familiar and still something that you couldn’t place. 
“Are you getting tired?” He asked you gently. 
You lied, “No, just resting my eyes.” 
“Maybe we shouldn’t have had that much soju then.” He joked into the open air.  
“How much longer?” 
“At least thirty more minutes.” 
He was so warm. Warmer than any chill of the spring night. 
First you would have kissed the peachy flavor on his lips. Then you would have cuddled all up into that lavender sweater which you imagined to be even softer than cat’s fur--or rather--it looked like it could have been. 
“Do you know any constellations?” Minho pointed up to the sky. 
“Not really.” 
“Well, that one is Ursa Major...and over there...that’s Leo. Can you see that it sort of looks like a triangle?” 
“Yes.” You had said, but really you didn’t have a clue, you liked it more hearing him talk about them. “Where did you learn about constellations?” 
“Long time ago. I think it was in school, but, that was so, so long ago.” 
The cool grass under the quilt rustled when he had leaned back up to sit, then dragged quilt attempt #2 over your body and his. 
“It was getting a little cold.” He quietly announced. 
His simple action of doing just that heated up your whole body now knowing that the two of you were trapped together, inches apart. 
Minho tucked his arms to prop up his head. “Thank you for cooking for me. I haven’t had someone other than my mother cook like that for me in a long while.” 
“I’m sorry...I know that it was pretty inedible--” 
“--And thank you for allowing me to come over too. I...realize...I don’t really know what I’m doing that well. I kind of invited myself...I hope that I’m not putting pressure on you or anything...” 
“--Doing what well?” Your heart leapt into your throat. 
“I just haven’t done this in a really long time.” 
This. 
What the hell was “this?” 
“I’m not following...” 
“Letting myself do something fun. Something nice and relaxing.” 
 You had formed a painful little “Oh.” on your lips. Your idea of this was different from his after all. 
“--Something nice and relaxing with you.” 
Another “Oh.” formed, but this one was a thankful one. 
“Can I tell you something?” Minho’s voice was barely in a whisper. 
“What is it?” You looked over at him and he was wrapped in the navy blue light of the night. You could have sworn that you could see the faintest inkling of stars in his eyes. 
He looked back at you in earnest. “I’ve been...scared, too, since moving back out here.” 
“W-why?” 
“There was something in me that was telling me that moving out here wouldn’t fix everything, and that I would be stuck forever on those things that happened, and the things that made me unhappy.” 
“Minho...what are you saying?” 
“-Got my heart broken. Back then. As cliché as the sounds.” He laughed, and it even sounded a twinge embarrassed. “I ran away from it to here. I had figured that it would give me time to get it all back together again.”  
“I-I’m so sorry.” 
“Running is good and all when you can physically remove yourself from what’s chasing you, but some things...” 
Your chest felt heavy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” 
“You do?” 
The first summer cicadas had started their nighttime chant, and their hisses ebbed and flowed like sea waves. 
“I feel like...these expectations that my family has of me, my mother...I can’t ever escape them. They’re always there and burned into my head. I think of them even when I don’t want to: get a better job that “contributes”, get married, have grandkids...” 
You paused with your own eyes cast up to the sky. The massive expanse seemed unfathomable. 
“Why is it that we can’t ever be happy doing the things that are supposed to make us happy?” 
The first meteor flew past your eyes with the speed of light, barely slow enough for you to catch it. 
The second was a bit slower, and traced after it a millisecond of white spectral dust. 
“Did you see that??” Without thinking, you poked once at Minho’s arm. 
You couldn’t see, but he had grinned with a weak smile. “I did.” 
All at once, the sky was illuminated with brilliant streaks of light and their white hot heads that would fade and dissapear just as quickly as they arrived. They tore through the sky with astonishing speed and you traced the outline of each line as fast as you could. 
“There’s so many.” You wondered aloud. 
Under the warmth of the haphazard blanket, fingers twisted into yours: careful and tentative, soft and curious.   
Minho breathed out, “I feel pretty happy right now.” 
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celestialtitania · 3 years
Text
Une Rose Pour Toi (Part 2)
Written for Day 13: Flowershop of Marichat May. Can also read on AO3.
@marichatmay
Marinette was taken aback when she heard a furious pounding on her roof. Exchanging glances with Tikki, Marinette slowly climbed her bed with her math textbook in hand. She pushed the balcony hatch open ready to smack the book in the intruder's face when she came face to face with Chat Noir.
"Chat? What are you doing here?" She blinked at him owlishly as she lowered her arm. He'd leaped back in surprise but moved closer to her again.
"Marinette! I need your help!"
"M-my help?" For a moment, she was utterly lost. Then her face drained. "Is there a supervillain on the loose?" Then she paused, suddenly suspicious. "Why are you coming to me for help instead of Ladybug?"
Her heart was hammering in her chest. If he'd figured out her secret identity somehow...Marinette didn't know what she would do. She couldn't lose Tikki!
"N-no, there's no supervillain!" Chat clarified, waving his hands to dispel her worries. Marinette sagged with relief, her anxious thoughts dissipating.
She frowned at him instead. "Then, why do you need my help?"
"For our garden!" He spoke so matter-of-factly, Marinette had to take a moment to figure out what he was talking about.
"The rose garden? In the park?" He elaborated when Marinette still seemed a little confused. As understanding dawned on her, Chat looked a little offended. "Does our garden mean so little to you that you could barely remember it?"
"No, of course not. I just hadn't realized you'd want to share it with me," Marinette confessed.
"We planted the roses together, that makes it ours," Chat told her firmly. "And it needs help!" He looked terribly upset. Marinette automatically shifted gears into her planning mode, nodding at Chat to tell her what exactly was the problem.
"The roses are dying!" He wailed. "The leaves are turning yellow and the few roses that do grow; wilt and die way too quickly!"
Marinette's brows furrowed. "They get enough water?" She checked.
Chat Noir nodded earnestly as she hummed to herself. "The roses were planted in a good section of the park, so there's plenty of sunlight. What fertilizer do you use?"
Chat simply blinked at her. "Fertilizer?" He echoed.
"Don't tell me you don't use fertilizer!" Marinette said aghast.
"I didn't know I was supposed to!" He panicked. "Can we fix this?" Chat's big eyes looked into her and she noticed his bottom lip quivering. The garden was for his late mother, of course, he would be protective of it.
She sighed. "Of course, we can. Meet me at the entrance of the bakery."
"At the entrance? Why?" Chat sounded puzzled.
"I have to get a few things and let my parents know I'm heading out. I'll be right there!" Marinette promised, scrambling to grab her purse and gardening booklet. "Let's go, Tikki!" Her kwami zoomed into her purse.
"It's really nice of you to help Chat Noir like this," Tikki observed.
Marinette gave her a soft smile. "He's willing to share something so important to him with me, Tikki. How could I not?"
She rushed downstairs, waving at her parents as she headed out the door. Once outside, Marinette glanced around looking for where Chat Noir had gone off to.
"There you are," he dropped down from the roof, causing Marinette to let out a startled shriek. "Sorry!" He apologized, throwing his hands up. "I didn't mean to scare you."
As Marinette took in deep breaths to calm her pounding heart, she also took in his contrite expression. With a sigh, she let it go. "Give me your baton," she ordered.
He looked curious but obeyed instantly. Squinting at his baton, Marinette opened the GPS function and inputted an address. "We need to go here," she handed the baton back to Chat.
Taking his baton back, Chat took a moment to study the map before scooping Marinette up. She squawked in surprise, her arms naturally looping around his neck and she tightened her legs around his waist, to keep herself from falling. "We'll be taking the express pathway," he had the audacity to wink at her when she tilted her head back to glare at him.
Before Marinette could protest, he was vaulting away. Within moments, they were standing in front of Marinette's favourite flower shop.
"So, what are we doing here?" Chat asked as he set Marinette back on the ground.
"Maybe a bit of warning next time?" She frowned at him.
He nodded. "I pawmise," he said with one hand raised while the other was on his heart.
She narrowed her eyes at him but forced herself to move on. "We're here so we can buy some fertilizer and mulch to make sure the roses grow strong and healthy."
"Mulch?" Chat tilted his head at her.
"I'll explain everything," Marinette sighed. "Let's go." She led the way into the shop while giving him sidelong looks. "I thought you would have researched before starting the garden."
"I did!" Chat agreed while tapping on his baton to let out some of his anxious energy. "I just wasn't very successful." Marinette fondly rolled her eyes at him before grabbing his hand and walking up to the store counter.
"Hi! How may I help you today?" The saleswoman perked up when she saw them. Seeing Chat Noir had her appearing quite excited but she remained professional while speaking to them.
"We're looking for fertilizer and mulch for rose bushes." She turned back to Chat Noir. "Did you say some flowers had appeared?"
He nodded, looking a little distracted at all the flowers around them. "We'll also need several stakes then."
The saleswoman nodded. "Your rose bushes will thank you. It's nice to see young people taking an interest in gardening," she remarked. "Alright, so inorganic mulch," she scanned the shelves underneath the counter.
"Is it a large garden?"
"No! It's the small one in the park, I don't know if you've seen it," Marinette began to clarify but the saleswoman's eyes lit up.
"Oh! I heard about that! I love knowing the rumors were true," she exclaimed. "Okay, so that's what, five bushes?" She pulled out a large bag of inorganic mulch. "That should be plenty, but feel free to come back if you need more."
"A high nitrogen fertilizer would be best," the saleswoman explained, bringing out yet another bag. "Say, do you kids already have the rose feed?"
Chat stared blankly at her but Marinette gasped. "Oh! No, we don't. I forgot all about the feed."
"No worries, I'm just glad you're aware that they're different things. I get a lot of customers thinking they only need one or the other. I would recommend alfalfa. One cup now, one cup after pruning, and one cup after the spring flush. Think you can remember all that?"
Marinette nodded before Chat could even react. "I'll help with everything," she promised him, making him smile at her in relief.
"Last bud not least: the stakes," the saleswoman began as she took them to another part of the store.
"You're a punner?" Chat asked in delight.
"You stand around flowers all day and not want to make a pun or two," she dared him. "I take it you approve of my punning?" Chat grinned at her in response and nodded; he appreciated anyone who could make a good pun and this woman was taking the time to help him out with something that was important to him.
Marinette resolved to make a few more puns as Ladybug if that was all it took to make her Kitty happy.
"If you have five bushes, then four stakes should be plenty. Do either of you have any experience with stakes?"
Marinette volunteered, so the saleswoman handed them to her. As they paid for their purchases, the saleswoman smiled at them. "Thanks, kids, you guys really made my daisy."
"Thanks a bunch for helping us out," Chat threw back as they picked up the heavy bags and headed out the door.
Chat vaulted away with the bags before Marinette could even suggest walking. She sighed, resigning herself to waiting for him to appear again.
"He's just trying to be helpful," Tikki put in before Marinette could complain too much.
"I know, Tikki. It would just be nice if he'd at least talk with me first instead of making decisions all by himself."
She patted her purse to let Tikki know to hide again as she saw Chat coming closer. He landed and held out his hand to her. "Well, Princess? You ready?"
"Only so we can help the roses faster," she told him, looping her arms around his neck as he held on to her waist. Then they were soaring over the rooftops, wind blowing Marinette's hair backwards until she was set firmly on the ground again, next to the little rose garden.
They took a moment to take their supplies out of the bag and get set up.
"Feed, fertilizer, and then mulch," Marinette told him. "You can start by giving them a very small amount of feed and I'll do the staking."
Chat nodded solemnly, carefully measuring out a cup of alfalfa feed while Marinette expertly put in the stakes and tied the stalks of the bushes to them. She was careful to not get pricked by the thorns and soon enough all of the roses had adequate support.
"It's looking great," Chat gushed.
"Not done yet," Marinette reminded him, handing him the fertilizer. "Pour some fertilizer on and I'll add the mulch."
It was long and tiring work, but both enjoyed themselves. It was easier to garden when a friend was keeping you company. Once they were done with the fun part, they had to clean up as well. They gathered their supplies putting it all back in the large paper bag they had been given with their purchases.
Chat stored the remaining stuff next to a large rock. "I'll take it back home with me," he explained. "But it's easier to store it here for now." Marinette nodded in full agreement.
Finally finished, they collapsed next to each other onto the grass, using each other as support for their aching backs.
"That was exhausting," Chat panted.
"More than fighting supervillains?" Marinette joked, but she was tired too. Gardening in the sun took a lot out of you.
"How about we get cleaned up and go get some ice cream to cool down?" Chat suggested. "We can walk this time," he offered.
Marinette laughed. Chat being considerate now erased all of her previous complaints. It was nice to know that he paid attention to her as well.
"With Andre right over there? Yeah, a little walk works," impulsively, Marinette grabbed Chat's hand.
He glanced down before his eyes flitted up to meet hers. Whatever he saw, caused a smile to break out on his face, and then he was tugging her along towards Andre's cart. All Marinette could do was smile back while her heart pounded just a little bit faster than usual.
28 notes · View notes
dearcat1 · 4 years
Note
Guardian Tsu and his sky Xan?
This is somehow far longer than I was expecting... I was trying to do something different than the multichap that I have plotted hahaha hope you like it.
Story:
No matter  what other people think, Xanxus is a Sky. Despite their willful ignorance, he's actually the Sky with the most experience with Clouds. After all, if they're to be mafia one way or the other, the Varia tends to be the more palatable option. Xanxus has no interest in parading them around like show ponies, no need to leash them to his castle. As long as they take the required number of missions and complete them, Xanxus gives zero shits about the rest. 
Which means that when they're aware of the option and it's given to them, most Clouds flock to him. Not that any of the old men would ever recognize that little fact. It also means, however, that ten years later, when he finally sees Sawada again, he sees it. Xanxus was set to dislike him, had decided in his mind already but once he notices it, there's no ignoring the fact and Xanxus can't stop watching.
Reborn thinks his student is a cloudy Sky, possessive and territorial but nothing that can't be overcome with a little conditioning, a little pushing. Xanxus takes one long look at Sawada reigning his temper in and he realizes that's not the case at all. That's a Cloud, with a damn powerful Sky secondary. It's not until later, however, when Xanxus witnesses Sawada losing his temper for a fraction of a second  that he understands.
First, Sawada is the most powerful, most in control Cloud that Xanxus has ever seen. Second, Reborn and Timoteo are buffoons. What do they know about Clouds anyway? They've been trampling over Sawada's instincts for years, attempting to curve his tendencies instead of working with who he is. They have given Sawada no time to rest, to collect himself. He has no territory, no sense of belonging because of that. Third, Xanxus could sit back and enjoy the explosions. No matter how calm Sawada is, everybody has a breaking point. 
And yet… Fourth, Xanxus wants him. It had only been a moment, certainly not enough time for much other than to see Sawada's Flames briefly lash out from under his skin but it had been enough. But it had been more than enough. Xanxus is picky, he wants only the best of the best and Sawada is the best Cloud in the mafia. 
He starts small. Where all the other Skies in Vongola impose themselves on Sawada with casual disregard, Xanxus makes a point of respecting his cues. When it looks like Sawada is about done with people, Xanxus covers for him. If it's only the two of them in the meeting, he waves Sawada away, tells him to come back when he feels like it. When it's with their old men, he provides a distraction just long enough for Sawada to collect himself. 
Soon enough, Xanxus becomes the one Sky in Vongola who can guarantee Sawada will show up to their meetings instead of sending Gokudera or the baby swordsman to replace him. 
One morning, Xanxus wakes up to Vongola as a collective losing their fucking minds. Sawada is, apparently, missing. Unlike Timoteo, Xanxus doesn't worry. The little Cloud will come back when he feels like it and not a moment before that, Hyper Intuition will see to it. Vongola begins search parties. Xanxus finishes dressing and strides into his office. When he finds Sawada sprawled on his couch, napping with a manga on his hand, Xanxus doesn't react.
All he does is sit down and tackle the paperwork.
Sawada wakes up some time later but loses interest in his book after a while, watching Xanxus silently. It's predatory, almost considering. Xanxus keeps working. Sawada stretches with a hum, slow and lazy. "What are you doing?"
"Courting you."
"Hmm," Sawada takes that in, nods once and turns back to his book. 
The Cloud disappears for ten days,  there one moment and gone the next. Xanxus sits back and watches the chaos, secure in the knowledge that Timoteo will simply assume Xanxus is sadistically pleased. He ignores the sad disappointed looks and continues on with his life. If you want a Cloud to stick around, Xanxus knows, you better store away the leash.
Sure enough, the night of the tenth day, Sawada shows up once more in the Iron Fort, shoes covered in mud, a streak of it on his cheek. But he looks calmer, more settled in a way that makes Xanxus's lips twitch up and the brat's tutor stop. Sawada endures his guardians fuzzing with grace, pretends to listen to Timoteo's scolding about responsibilities and duties. Xanxus buys him boots and gives them to him during the next meeting.
When Sawada takes them from him, he blinks, "uh. Thank you." But he puts them on right there, looking pleased with the way they fit. "They're nice."
Good, the sooner Sawada forms his territory and settles, the sooner Xanxus can actually make strides in his courtship. He makes no mention of just how much those boots cost. He just ruffles Sawada's hair, "good. Lets get back to business."
It becomes something of a routine. Sawada disappears for a day or two, always coming back a little muddy but happy. Timoteo hates it, his guardians try to tag along, Reborn is at a loss on how to curve it and Xanxus covers for him, encourages it. Whether Sawada disappears to unknown places with no warning or does it after a nap on Xanxus's couch, Xanxus buys him time and offers him a calmer welcome when Sawada finally turns away from his usual committee.
Xanxus still twitches in place when he finally realizes where exactly Sawada is creating his territory. That little shit. He strides to the very edges of the land behind his castle, carefully stopping right at the start of the lush forest-like garden and waits. But there's no answer, no acceptance or rejection. So Xanxus steps in, careful to step only on grass. It takes him almost two hours but he does find Sawada, laid on a branch of a tree. 
How big is this thing? Xanxus crosses his arms and arches a brow, "really now?"
Sawada opens one eye, smug and mischievous. "Do you like it?"
"Very relaxing," Xanxus nods. Slowly, he lays on the grass, under the shade of the tree. Sawada doesn't react, watching him silently. 
The next time Xanxus shows up at Sawada's territory, he brings along a box full of seeds. He says nothing when he gives it up. Sawada takes it from him with a delighted little hum, disappearing between the trees. Xanxus watches him go and doesn't follow. It becomes something of a tradition, Sawada will disappear every now and then and Xanxus will go back to his castle, find another variety of seeds and walk to the edge of Sawada's territory with his offering.
It's a learning curve, slow and steady. Xanxus learns just how far in he can get without an explicit welcome, where to wait for Sawada to come greet him and even how far in Sawada will allow the rest of his elements. Which had been a bit of a touch and go thing, Xanxus had never seen Sawada as angry as the moment Belphegor had carelessly stabbed one of the trees. On the bright side, the prince now has a healthy fear of Sawada. On the other hand, however, it had taken Xanxus almost half a year to get to the point where he was trusted enough to bring somebody else. 
Which is why he's so relieved when he walks in, Squalo a step behind him and Sawada doesn't come to fend them off. If he ended up being back to square one, Xanxus would have put the damn Storm back in the medical wing himself. 
"Voi," Squalo murmurs, looking around, "this place is a fucking forest."
That much is true. The plot is big enough for it and Sawada has taken advantage. Between the space and Sawada's apparent green thumb and random planting, the land has lost any sort of connection it had to a garden to become a forest instead. Full with life, wild animals included. And yet, not a human soul but them and Sawada himself. If that doesn't speak of Sawada's preferences, Xanxus doesn't know what will. Even Hibari's territory, for all of his short patience, is full of 'herbivores' to herd. 
Xanxus guides them to the clearing and settles down under the tree for a nap. Sawada will either show up or he won't. At this point, all they have to do is wait. 
When he wakes up, hours later, it's to the rhythmic sounds of Squalo cleaning his blade. He opens his eyes to find Sawada watching curiously from where he's laying on top of a branch. Xanxus watches him instead. Sawada turns to look at him and Xanxus hums, stretching an arm up with the box. Sawada jumps down, sitting cross-legged  beside Xanxus as he takes the box.
"What's this?"
Yawning, Xanxus turns on his side, "signal yammer. You can leave your phone in that." So that you don't have to keep smashing them when you disappear, Xanxus doesn't say.
Sawada perks up, touching the engravings on the metallic surface. It's handmade, Xanxus made it himself. "Come on," Sawada pulls on Xanxus's sleeve. 
It's not unheard of but it's definitely strange for Sawada to invite Xanxus deeper into his territory without Xanxus himself asking. And doing so while leaving Squalo unattended on his territory is a very big sign of trust. So Xanxus stands, letting Sawada guide him around by the sleeve of his coat. They go deeper than Xanxus has ever been, Sawada letting him stop and stare every now and then. There are streams running through the ground, a small lake, a cave system. "How big is this?"
"Big enough," Sawada shrugs, happy and still full of mischief. "It took you forever to figure it out."
Xanxus snorts, "yeah? But then it wouldn't have been ready when I came."
That makes Sawada stop, like the thought hadn't occurred to him, and then pout. "It was ready, though."
"Hmm," Xanxus takes the place in. It's a small house, carved inside the cave system with tools and flame. Nothing too luxurious  but impressive all the same. They're inside of what seems to be the bedroom, there's a small dresser, some shelves with some assorted random objects, one of them dedicated only to Xanxus's gifts. The rest of the bedroom is just a giant bed. Pillows and blankets on the ground, enough that it's impossible to see the stone underneath, all in a soft colorful chaos, small led lights hanging on the ceiling like a messy spider's web.
All in all, very cozy. 
Sawada is looking at him, shy and expectant. So Xanxus walks closer, ruffles his hair. "It's nice," and Xanxus hope's he's not misunderstanding. "Your bedroom?"
"Yup," Sawada puts his hands on Xanxus's pockets, walking backwards and then letting them fall. He's caging himself between Xanxus's body and the pillows, "ok."
"Ok?" Xanxus's breath hitches. No matter Iemitsu's despairing remarks or Timoteo's gentle condescending suggestions, Xanxus is a Sky. He's greedier than most. His elements are his and Xanxus will have them in every way he can have them. 
"Uh hu," Sawada presses closer, forehead against Xanxus's shoulder.
Xanxus lets him, shrugging his coat off and maneuvering it onto Sawada's shoulders. "Next time," he promises, kissing the crown of Sawada's head, "next time, I'll have you. Next time, I'll be ready. How do you like your breakfast?"
His Cloud makes a tiny sound of surprise, turning them around even as he slips his arms on the sleeves of Xanxus's coat. It's too big on him. He presses Xanxus down, moving blankets and pillows around them until he's happy they're both comfortable and warm. Xanxus lets him use his chest as a mattress, hand rubbing gently on his back. "I don't have a kitchen," Sawada offers.
"I'll figure it out," Xanxus reassures.
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octupus-on-the-moon · 3 years
Text
A table
~It's been done *laughs in Dr. Frankenstein*. After a lot of sweat, cursing and repeatedly flipping of my laptop and tablet. A new part of a nightmare is ready. It's a bit longer because of my absence and I hope I can keep my motivation up~
《 Previous - Masterlist - Next 》
Ninth part of nightmare
Word count: 1,814
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Warning: Non I guess. Just some fluff and a burned gratine.
Bucky opened the door, awaiting the cold, baldness of the walls. To end up being surprised by the green he saw everywhere.
He totally forgot the little plants, y/n bought for him. They really made a difference. A welcome one. His clenched jaw and frowned eyebrows disappeared.
After taking of his jacket, he took an empty glass and went around pouring some water in all the colorful pots. He cursed under his breath, after he spilled some water for the second time. Mentally making a note to buy a watering can. Without noticing that his dark thoughts lifted and the silence around him was a welcome one, rather than a threatening menace.
Barnes looked at his wristwatch. It was still over an hour, till y/n would come back from college. He felt a sting of joy in his stomach.
That was new, Bucky wondered. It was probably just the excitement of finally having something to look forward to, instead of enduring one day after the other with the same maddening routine.
In the meanwhile, he could be useful and cook lunch. Y/n would be hungry after college and he had promised to cook the next time. Bucky looked in the fridge and cupboards. Potatoes, cheese and bacon. Exactly what he needed
Y/n had 30 minutes of lecture left, till she was free. She really wanted to go back to her little room in James’s apartment after the first class, but Monday was full of important courses, so she somehow managed to convince herself to stay.
The short call with James lifted her spirits considerably. It was his stoic way of talking, as soon as she showed a bit of interest in him, that made her feel warm inside. Her thoughts wandered off. To him. To the unpleasant night and how she finally saw the scared child he was. But then they went off to his blue eyes and the little crinkles around them when he frowned.
He must have been quite a look back in the forties.
Of course she had seen the photos in the Smithsonian, but she pictured him in a classier way. With a fitted suit and a fedora hat, walking down the street stealing hearts. Maybe a girl at his side and his eyes constantly lingering around her, as if she were the whole world and more. At the thought of it, y/n caught herself picturing a girl just like her, beside his tall figure.
That made her stop and turn back to reality. It was not a good sign. Or maybe it was. It felt like forever, since she let someone into her life and James was pretty much the last person she would have thought of. But she also did not expect her father being a criminal and her whole existence a facade.
Life was full of twists and turns lately. Some good, some bad. Maybe it was time to let something good happen.
“Ms. y/l/n, could you resume the discussed topic?” The professors sharp tone ripped y/n out of her train of thought. This will be the longest 30 minutes of my life, she thought.
A quite knock on the door distracted Barnes from intensely starring at the oven. He decided himself for a simple potato gratin, that would hopefully suite y/n’s taste. With is heart beating a bit too fast he neared himself the door.
And there she was. Her hair a little mess. A bag casually hanging around her shoulder and a beam as bright as the sun itself.
“Will you let me in or just keep starring?” Her playful greeting made Bucky’s heart stumble and without wasting words he stepped aside. He made another mental note. His gaze is not to be trusted. “How was therapy?” she asked letting her bag slide to the floor entering the kitchen in on smooth motion “Who of you two bit off the other one´s head first?” It took Bucky moment to get out of his trance.
“I….. We…. It went good” Barnes cleared his throat closing the door behind him “But she got a little suspicious about me deciding to cooperate” Y/n was drinking a glass of water leaning against the counter and once again Bucky could not get his eyes off of her.
“I did not think about that. We should have done one thing at a time. But I guess it´s too late now. Oh! And it smells amazing” she replied signing over to the oven. The quick hand move, the way her voice floated in the air, that one fuzzy hair in her face, everything captured him. “I…” A sharp smell tingling his nose interrupted Barnes. It came from the hot oven in the middle of the kitchen. His concentration fully gathered again, let him act quickly, reaching over for a rug and rescuing his gratin in the last moment. The crust was now a bit darker than needed but it was still acceptable.
“It´s a burned potato gratin” Barnes darkly commented, placing the form in the center of the already ‘set up table’.
“Hey, don´t be so hard on yourself. It still looks amazing”
“I´m not being hard with myself, I´m blaming you. It wouldn´t have burned if you wouldn´t have distracted me” Bucky’s eyes were glimmering amused.
She gasped overly dramatic, laying one hand on her chest “Me?”
“Yes. You” He broke out into a smile, without wasting another thought he reached over to her, brushing that fuzzy string of hair out of her face. Y/n’s giggle stopped for a moment at the closeness between both, making place for a shy smile, her eyes searching the floor. Barnes retreaded himself, feeling a heavy stone inside his stomach, as he realized how intimate the gesture was.
She did not expect him coming so close, her heart was already fluttering and was about to explode at his touch. Then he moved away causing an emptiness inside her. The same emptiness she always felt since the day of the notification. It was the last time she felt truly fulfilled and at ease, she had dreams and goals. Then everything changed. Life suddenly was a landscape of grey. Every task dull and meaningless. Time passed. She soon enough noticed that the emptiness would stay and the grey would only flourish.
Then the nightmare happened. And the already grey landscape had now even dark shadows to be afraid of.
James moved away to cut and serve the gratin. Giving her a little time to calm down her heart beat and ‘take a seat’ on the kitchen counter. After another heartbeat of discreetly observing Bucky serve the plates, y/n decided to break the silence “James”
He looked up with a shy grin “Yes?”
“We really need to get you a table”
….
“Is it really necessary?” Bucky and y/n were standing in front of the furniture store. Bucky incredulously, Y/n exited.
“Well at least I am not going to keep eating on the floor and, or the counter. My back is literally hurting from eating the gratin”
“Yes, it’s true. But. I…” Barnes closed and opened his fists a few times weighting his options “Okey. I guess we can take a look around” She nodded enthusiastically leading the way into the shop, James sighted heavily and followed.
The store was more or less deserted, which relieved Barnes. He didn´t like being in a already overwhelmingly filled hall with an ever more overwhelming count of people in it. The exit routs were explicitly signed which calmed his anxiety a bit more.
The most urgent thing for y/n was definitely the table, which led them to the dinning room section.
“I feel like a mafia boss” Y/n declared sitting down on the front side of a heavy wooden table. The chair, throne-like, up-holstered in a red velvet.
“Yes. A very scary mafia boss” Bucky jeered from the other side of the aisle.
“Hey! I can be scary if I want to”
“Jupp, as scary as a teddy”
She got up from the huge seat and walked over to him “Have you ever started into the cold dead eyes of a teddy bear?”
Bucky thought for an overly long moment “No, I haven´t. What about this one?”
“James. That’s a plastic table and it isn´t even a good quality one. In half a year, you will need to buy a new one” grabbing his arm she dragged him away “Come on these place is gigantic, we can find something better”
Yet, they didn´t. Every table y/n suggested was rejected by Bucky and vice versa. It was mostly to big, to small, to pompous, to dull, to much seats, to little seats and so on.
Both had almost reached the end of the section, when y/n suddenly dragged Bucky over to another exemplar. It´s design was simple, a glass top and a blond wooden frame with matching metal legs. Four chairs coated in a clear fabric rounded the dining set.
“This one. It´s the perfect size and I think I saw stools that would match, for the counter” Y/n sounded near desperate. Bucky took his time to look around the table. He was searching for something specific on it.
The price tag.
Y/n had picked out the most beautiful and practical tables, but the price was often more then exorbitantly high, which led Bucky to refuse all her suggestions. And the same happened with this one, it was by far the best table she had found today. It would look amazing between the plants, near the window, the chairs comfortable to sit on, in the early mornings to drink coffee and read the paper. It was a shame the table was out of Bucky`s scarce budget.
“I don´t know” Barnes commented “The chairs will get dirty pretty fast” Y/n´s face dropped.
She really didn´t expect it being so hard to satisfy Bucky´s furniture taste. Y/n thought that given Bucky´s cloth taste, he would have somewhat the same taste for furniture. Modern, comfy and in style with the room. Yet, every piece he had found acceptable was old styled, plastic or just straight out in a horrible color “You really liked that plastic table didn´t you?” She sighted.
For the break of a second Bucky frowned disgusted, then he nodded convincingly. But it was enough for her to know, what was keeping them from agreeing for a piece of furniture.
Cheap.
Every single table he elected was not because of its design, colour or material, it was because it was cheap. For a moment y/n felt bad. It was selfish of her not thinking that way, even though she truly believed that she didn´t have a rich complex, sometimes she did forget that not everyone had unlimited resources.
“Maybe it´s time for a little break. I think I saw a popcorn stand outside” Bucky’s conflicted face lit up a bit at her words.
All rights reserved.
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Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel
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opossumanonymous · 3 years
Text
Dead Silent part 1
Warnings: Izuku needs a hug now, he has a panic attack, this a horror story,
What is a boy to do at night when there's a knock at the door...
******************************************************
It was a cool summer night in the Japanese countryside, the moon was high in the sky as stars twinkled. While on the ground crikets chirped and fire flies went on their nightly stroll around a humble cottage.
The old walls of the little cottage creaked slightly in the cool summer wind.
Izuku yawned at the stove, it was around midnight when he was finally able to pull himself away from his summer homework.
His mom had made dinner earlier leaving it in the fridge for him to reheat later.
Tiredly he looked over at the old broken microwave in the corner of the kitchen.
He needed to drive down to the store in the morning to buy them a new microwave. Theirs shorted out not too long ago, he'd already added it to the grocery list on the fridge.
The closest town with a grocery store was a good two hour drive from their modest home. So trips didn't happen often.
He looked out the window out over the valleys and hills of the land his family owned. The moon rose high in the sky illuminating his mother's garden where fresh tomatoes and cucumbers grew.
He couldn't wait to harvest them in the morning after weeks of caring for them his mother finally deemed them fit for harvest.
Meanwhile his pepper plant still had yet to give any peppers, but it was his first time growing something on his own. He'll get there his mom told him, then he'll be growing his own garden maybe it'll even be better than hers.
He didn't think so but only time and practice will tell.
It was nights like these that made making late night ramen taste even better.
He was just about to turn off the stove when he heard the first knock.
Knock!
Huh that's weird who'd be out at this hour? Let alone in the middle of nowhere, him and his mom where the only people around for 2 miles. He was probably just hearing things after all it was late around 1 in the morning now.
Knock!
Now he knows he's not hearing things someone's definitely at the door. Turning off the stove he contemplates who could be knocking at this hour.
Maybe it was just a hiker who just got lost, there were a few trails around here. Or maybe someone who's having car troubles and needs a tow?
Either way Izuku was anxious to open the door to a stranger, after all it was just him and his mom alone here.
"Izuku? Honey are you there? I locked myself out by accident can you come open the door for me please?"
Izuku sighed in relief, it was just his mom probably making sure wild foxes weren't tearing up the garden again.
They'd always had trouble with the pesky creatures stealing their fruits and tearing up the plant beds. Usually working in the night to avoid any interruptions to their havoc.
Walking to the front door the loose floorboard infront of the kitchen creaks as he goes to open the front door
Just as he's about to put his hand on the knob to open the door he stops.
Something catching his attention out of the corner of his eye.
He snaps his head over to the living room where the corner lamp was on, not giving much light to light up the whole living room. But it was enough that he could recognize the woman sitting in the recliner next to it.
It was his mom.
She sat in the recliner the curve of her round face and body lit by the lamp. She had a book open in her lap as she let out gentle snors.
But if she's there then whose-
Knock! Knock!
"Izuku what's taking so long? It's really cold out here."
That's not his mom.
His hand that was still inches away from the door knob began to shake.
"Izuku? Honey? Can you hear me?"
Knock! Knock!
He snatched his had away from the door backing away as if it had burned him.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Izuku come on open the door this isn't funny!"
He began to sweat buckets as he looked into the living room again.
He thought he might have been imagining her sitting in the living room. But no she was still there when he looked again still sleeping peacefully.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Izuku now I'm only going to ask one more time! Open this door right now!"
Now the knob began to shake as the knocking continued now louder than before.
That's not his mom!
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"IZUKU! OPEN THIS DOOR! NOW!"
The voice of his mother spoke again from behind the door. While he looked at her sleeping form in the living room.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"IZUK̸͔͉̥͓̪̮̫̈́́͑Ư̸̡̥̱͔̠̝̒̇̿͌́̒̐̉̐͋́̕̕͜͠!"
He began to hyperventilate suddenly feeling like he couldn't breathe. His back now hitting a wall making him unable to back away from the door any further.
BANG! BANG!
"IZ̷̡̤̝̬̦͔͔̞̍̑̾͌̔̒̒̀͝Ư̶̧̭͓̘̬̳̻̼̰͓̦̠̥̺͌̈́͆̉͑͆̑̅̋͐̇̍̕͠ͅĶ̷̡̛͎̹͓̇̈́̌̏̇̑̚͠ͅỤ̷̦̝̯̦͚̱̑͠!"
The knocking now turned into banging as the voice that definitely does not belong mother began shouting his name. Causing the young high schoolers eyes to water as he stood frozen in place.
THAT'S NOT HIS MOM!
"I̴̧̗͈̘͔͎̽̉̓͒̃̆͠Z̴̢̢̟͖͍̩̗͎̳̀̕ͅU̵̖͙͙̽͒͝K̴̨͔̳͔̟̐̾̈́̇̎̄̆̽̀̅̚͝͝Ư̸̼̥̬̬͍͍̞̮͚͐͆͑̀̊̉̌̉̇̿͜!̴̧̨̧̛̥̼̦̬̖͙͋̾̑͋̏̈̿̀̑͋̒͘͜͝"
Putting his hands over his ears he closed his eyes sliding down the wall into a fetal position.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He squeezed his eyes tighter pushing his head into his knees as if it will somehow stop everything that's happening.
All the while his mom slept on in her recliner oblivious to the horror going on a few feet away.
How could she still be sleeping with all this noise?!
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"I̴̧̗͈̘͔͎̽̉̓͒̃̆͠Z̴̢̢̟͖͍̩̗͎̳̀̕ͅU̵̖͙͙̽͒͝K̴̨͔̳͔̟̐̾̈́̇̎̄̆̽̀̅̚͝͝Ư̸̼̥̬̬͍͍̞̮͚͐͆͑̀̊̉̌̉̇̿͜!̴̧̨̧̛̥̼̦̬̖͙͋̾̑͋̏̈̿̀̑͋̒͘͜͝"
The banging stopped suddenly.
So did the shouting.
All that Izuku could hear was his own ragged breathing and his heart beating erratically.
Was it all in his head?
Thump!
Jumping up he snapped his head toward the living room.
Only to find his mom slumped over further, her book now on the floor, having fallen due to her sudden movement.
He looked back to the door sweat still dripping from his brow.
Nothing not a knock or a bang or a voice, it's as if nothing ever happened.
He could've almost laughed if it wasn't for his heart nearly jumping out of his chest.
N̴̼̓o̶̖̽.̴̠̎
Getting up he eased over to the door avoiding the creaky floor board by the entrance to the kitchen.
D̴̻̽o̷͉̓n̶͙̄'̵̘̚ẗ̶̡ ̸͕̆ȍ̸͓p̴͈͂ĕ̶̹n̵̛̼ ̵͉͋i̵͔̚t̶̢͑.̴̙̏
He put one of his sweaty hands on the door knob while the other turned the lock.
D̴̞͌o̵̩͂n̵͖̊'̷͈́ẗ̵̘ ̶̻̿ǫ̸̕p̵̾ͅẹ̸̀n̵̻̄ ̴͎̍i̸̧͝t̴͔́!̴̃ͅ
Slowly the door creaked as he peered out the Crack only to find.....
Nothing.
There was nothing outside the door just the empty countryside.
Not a person or an animal or a monster, just the calm and quiet countryside. It was so quiet he could probably hear a pen drop on the engawa.
Izuku calmed breathing properly again before the hairs on the back of his neck stood.
He just realized he couldn't hear anything besides the soft snores of his mother.
Not a cricket or a grasshopper or even a fox all of which usually making noise now completely silent.
Dead silent.
Quickly as he could Izuku slammed the front door and locked it not wanting to find out what caused this strange silence.
When he thought about it how long had it been this silent? He was so distracted by the screaming and banging at the door he didn't notice how quiet it got.
Was it before or after the knocking?
He couldn't remember he just couldn't-
Cool breathe hit the back of his neck.
All the hairs on his body stood as sweat trickled down his face. A sob welling up in his throat making him unable to speak as he nearly choked on his own air.
"T̶̙̃h̵̖͊a̷̠̓n̵̙̏k̴͔͋ ̷̙͘y̸̧͐o̵̬̓ȕ̵͉ ̷̟̓f̸̦̈o̷̳͊r̵̦̎ ̸͉̑ĺ̴͉e̸͕̚t̴͕̿t̵̮͛ȉ̴̫ṉ̴̋g̸̞͊ ̸̪͑ŭ̸̻š̸͕ ̸̳͘i̵̠̐n̴̩̄ ̶̹̈́l̵͕͑i̶͇͝t̶̪͝t̸̹̊l̶͉̆ȇ̴͖ ̷̞̋ọ̵̍n̵̯̊e̷͔͘."
******************************************************
End of part 1 I wonder who was at the door?
H̴̦͑è̵̳̻͆͝͝ ̸̜̣̟̾̔̈́s̷̪͂́̎̈́̕h̵̤̓̂̾̍o̸̫̪͎͌ͅŭ̴͖̠̤̃ͅļ̷̧̜̫̖̈́͋̓͆͠d̴͍̻̩̳̬͊̈́͑͑̈́n̴̨̲̟͝'̶̡̰̌t̸̗̘̜͊́̈̚ ̴̱̪̼̜̑̀̈́͒h̶̟̣̀a̷͇̮̳̅̏̉̈́v̴̛̙̓̽͑͊e̷̤͍̹͗́̀͒͠ ̷͎̼̮̝̗͂͒ò̶̦͉̘̗͛̾̃̎p̷̜̏ẽ̷͕̘̮̩̜̾͐̄̇n̸̹̪͐̅͝ͅe̵̢̼̲̜̭͛̒͊̽͝ḑ̶͈̮̋̀̈́̑ ̸̗̙̏ẗ̶̡͙̗̣́͛͆͝ḣ̷͔̹͈͙͑̈́̎͝ẹ̴̠̞̘́̋͑͘ ̴̣͖̹̩͍̓̈́̋̋̕d̷͚̱̥̄͜ͅô̶͔͘ő̶̮̉̎͑̚ȓ̴̫̦̫̫̋̌̔̈́ ̸̪͇̦̈́̆̒ḷ̵́͝ͅi̸͕̩̖͗̿͒ͅķ̶͖͙͋̚ę̸̭̳͇̙͌̂ ̵̧̞̣͎̖̓̎̏͛̆f̷̛̼̫̾̑̀̕í̵̲̇̇̚͝r̶̛͔̟͊́̈́s̷͕͂̕͜͠͝t̶̡͑͊̾ ̴͙͈͉̫̄͛ͅs̵̠̳̖̘̈́ą̵̨̖̈́̌͠i̵͚͓̫͋d̶̢͖͊̅͝ͅ.̵̣͂̒͆͝ ̷̨̩̗̒̕
B̴̗̘̯͐̽̔͜ͅu̷̝̎͊͂ẗ̸̛̮̺̠͜ ̷͋ͅh̷̪̠̏̂e̵̛̞̽͜ ̸͍̤̘̽͊̇l̵̰̖͓̮̗̀̒̓̕e̷̙̰͝ṱ̸̼̬͖̬͛͒ ̶̱̣͆̔̚Á̶̡̩̜̻̪͒l̵̩̫̖̫͊ĺ̵̲͊ ̷̺̖̮̑͝f̴̛̝̺̔̒͆̕o̶̺̤̱̳͋͒͝͝r̴͉̘̲̪̦̄ ̵̝͓͇̆̍͘O̴͍͙̹̤̝͒͋̓̄n̶̛͖̮̰̊͛͛͠ê̴̝̯̾̉̽ ̵̲͑́i̷̤͍̙͖̝̔n̴͕͈̬̯̒́̐͒ ̴̧͎̝̈́͌ǹ̸̺̜̞̹̼o̶̘͋w̷̤̦̟͊̓̇͌ ̷̼̮͓̹͍̊̀ţ̸͖̝͎̿͗̀͝h̸̬̰̣͔͠ͅe̴̢̛͍̝͇͌̉̈͗ÿ̷̜͈͙́̆̊ ̵͕̈͗͠͝ḃ̶̯͙͐ė̶̢͆̕ḽ̶͓̉̈͐ǭ̸͛̕n̷̺̙̜̯̗̑͛̓g̵̳͕̑ͅ ̷̧̢͎̤̜͋̄̈́̏t̶̛͖̭͕́o̵̭̠̺͓͖͛͂ ̸͓̽͊͋̉͝h̵̢̯̔̅ḯ̵̺͙̖͇m̵͎͖̣̣̭̂̅̆.̵̺̉͗͊̄̕
Welp guess we'll find out in part 2
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currywaifu · 4 years
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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: pansy 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: hyodo juza/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.3k words 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨: Pudding~☆ ~, Anne, & ballpoint✨
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reader teachers juza how different flower colours can mean different things 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this work is a part of the flower shop event, a series of unconnected flower shop AU one-shots
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“Will you let him stay for a while?” Tsumugi asked you, your eyes immediately shifting to the tall, purple-haired man beside him. Though his expression was tough, he refused to even spare you a glance save for the when he first entered the store.
“Well…” you trailed off, still a little conflicted on what decision to make. On one hand, it was hard to refuse one of the flower shop’s regulars— especially when the explanation behind his sudden request reasonable enough. On the other hand, as nice as Juza probably was on the inside, if he was just going to stay silent the whole time it not only would be awkward, but there was a chance he’d scare some customers away.
As soon as the thought entered your head, you felt a little awful. He literally hasn’t said a word to you?
Making up your mind, you slowly nodded in response. “I don’t mind. He’ll just be observing the flowers, right? And looking at the reference book?”
“Yes, that’s pretty much it. Thank you for accepting,” Tsumugi turned to look at his junior, patting his arm lightly, “see you back home.”
“Thank you for your patronage, Tsukioka-san.”
“… see you, Tsumugi-san.”
As soon as the blue-haired man left the building, all was silent again.
What were you supposed to do? Would he appreciate you showing him round the store? Telling him about all the flowers? Do you ask him about what he needed to know for this role? Would he prefer to be left to his own devices and do it on his own?
When he suddenly called you by your name, well, surname, you’re caught off-guard. You turned to face him, and though he still can’t look you straight in the eyes, he at least knew you were listening.
“… sorry, I’ll try not to be a bother,” he says, frown still present but voice unexpectedly genuine, “…might scare your customers away, though.”
He didn’t sound sad about it, resigned if anything, but you found that you were kicking yourself anyway despite him not knowing what was going through your head a while ago. While you couldn’t comfort him or anything, there was at least something you could do to help him.
“Juza-kun,” you said, and for the first time, his eyes met yours. Perhaps if the two of you were to lock gazes at another place and time, you would have been intimidated; enclosed at the space of your flower shop, you somehow figured you’d end up enjoying his company.
“Would you like to see some flowers?”
Sunday.
“… don’t really get it,” Juza muttered, the pads of his fingers carefully brushing against the petals, “why I got chosen for this role.”
You paused your previous ministrations, setting aside your spray water bottle to look at him questioningly. By the manner Tsukioka-san explained Juza’s situation earlier, he made it seem as though the latter was enthusiastic to play this role— was he mistaken?
“What do you mean?” you asked, walking over to the same spot Juza stood. Neither of you faced the other, as though you two were talking to the vibrant colours instead.
“Flowers are delicate,” the petal slipped from his index, “I’m not,” he said matter-of-factly.
Neither of you could deny that.
“… maybe you’re focusing too much on thinking of flowers generally,” you replied, the silence consuming the both of you thereafter.
The two of you barely talked the rest of the day, the only other time the two of you glanced at each other was when he said his farewell.
Monday.
Coming back from school for your shift at the shop, you didn’t expect to run into the purple-haired man on the way there.
“Juza-kun?” He stood quietly at a street corner, his stillness making you wonder how long he’d been there. Weren’t… weren’t people looking at him suspiciously? Did he notice? What was he doing?
He greeted you back, and you found yourself in an awkward stare-off with him for a few seconds. With a cough, he darted his eyes away from yours. “You weren’t at the shop,” he replied gruffly.
Oh, was he waiting for you?
You let out a little laugh as you asked him to follow you, failing to miss the small hint of surprise on Juza’s face as he walked behind you. The walk was quiet, but your mind was noisy with questions.
“Did you want to look at the flowers again?”
“… thought about what you said.”
You couldn’t react immediately, already stood at the storefront. Stepping into the shop, you greeted your co-worker and your companion quickly distanced himself, taking to the assortment of potted plants instead.
“Is that delinquent your boyfriend or something?” your co-worker whispered quietly, peeking behind you worriedly. You stopped in the middle of tying your work apron, narrowing your eyes.
“What?”
“He was standing outside a while ago,” she explained, “but he left pretty quickly. I thought he was being shady, but then he comes in with you?”
You sighed, rubbing your temples. Right, you didn’t get the chance to mention Tsukioka-san’s request from yesterday. You didn’t think you had to?
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected, immediately shutting down whatever notion she had in her head, “Tsukioka-san asked me to help him with something.”
You almost giggled at how quickly she perked up at the familiar name. You bet he didn’t even realise how popular he was.
As you bid your adieus in advance, you exited the storage backroom and nearly yelped at the sight of Juza hunched over the counter, looking through the reference book.
“Are you looking for something specific?” you asked, leaning onto the counter to peer over the pages.
“… yesterday, you said I was being too general.”
You raised your eyebrows. Was he still thinking about that? “Guess I did, yeah.”
He flipped over another page, eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed through the content in front of him. You were sure he was trying his best to absorb the content, but you had a feeling it wasn’t working out as well as he had hoped.
You placed a hand over the book, and though you barely covered anything he got your intention pretty quickly.
“That’s going to take you forever,” you insisted, angling the book to face you instead as you flipped the pages over to the table of contents.
“What do you need for your characterisation, anyway?” from the corner of your eye, you could see the gears turning in his brain.
“Something happy,” he started, and you found yourself mentally listing down all the readily available flowers that fit into that meaning. Should be easy enough, there were many flowers that corresponded to happiness—
“Something calm,” he continued, and you found yourself turning around to look at him incredulously. “Something innocent.”
Was he gonna keep going?
“Something passionate, and something about new beginnings.”
“That’s a lot,” you stated the obvious, racking your brain for any flower that could possibly mean all of those. Maybe even a set of flowers from the same family? Happiness and innocence were often associated with each other anyway, and there were many flowers that meant passion anyway— though more on the love side of things. The other two, though…
“I’d need to look a bit more into that,” you apologised, eyes flitting from name to name to find a similar flower, “did Tsukioka-san say anything that could help?”
Juza let out a small hum, “he gave me a list.”
You thought he’d pull out his phone or something, so you couldn’t help the small laugh as he brought out a ripped out piece of notebook paper from his pocket. As soon as he handed it to you, you found yourself ticking off the flowers that wouldn’t work— whether it be obscurity or having a too vague meaning.
Lavender… Lily… Magnolia…
You stopped at the next flower listed. Oh, that could actually work?
“I think I have a reference for you,” you said. Unbeknownst to you, Juza subconsciously registered that as the first time you smiled at him.
Tuesday.
Why weren’t you surprised he would be at the street corner?
“Juza-kun, just wait inside the store,” you told him, a little exasperated. You understood his intentions, but he didn’t have to keep waiting outside every time for your arrival? "What if I got back a little late?”
“S’fine,” he mumbled quietly, falling into step with you, “it was only for a few minutes.”
“Ouka High is a lot closer, though,” you reminded him, “at this rate you’re gonna end up as a landmark.”
The conversation fell short again, the background noise filling up your silence. The door chime rang as you opened the door, and you checked in with your co-worker while Juza found himself with the flowers again.
“Did the delivery—?”
“Yep, it came today! Aha, he’s actually looking at some of them right now?”
Thanking her, you headed over to him and stared at the vibrant pink.
“Gentleness,” you said, loud enough for Juza to hear you, “pastel pink pansies mean something along the lines of gentleness and innocence.”
With Juza’s head bowed down, you thought he himself looked a lot like a pansy— a flower that resembled the human face, intelligent and pensive, nodding forward late in the summer as though deep in thought. The colour of his hair didn’t help diminish your imagination, either. After minutes of silence, he finally spoke up again.
“Muku,” he muttered. You tilted your head in confusion.
“Muku?”
“… my cousin,” he explained, “is a lot like this flower.”
Maybe it was your imagination, but somehow he sounded, looked a little softer.
“You must be pretty fond of him,” even if he weren’t to reply, you knew you already had your answer.
Wednesday.
You were running. Somehow you got distracted by the new cookies they were advertising at a cafe near your high school. Perhaps it was because of your ongoing situation with Juza, but as soon as you read the words “dessert” and “edible flowers” you made a bee-line for the store.
… and you ended up buying more than one, too. A whole pack of 6, actually. Really, who could blame you? The blue, pressed pansies atop the honey glazed lemon shortbread cookies looked absolutely scrumptious!
But now you were in a rush to get to work, and in your haste, you accidentally bumped into someone. You found yourself a little shocked as you looked up, familiar purple hair coming into vision.
“Oh, Juza-kun,” you greeted, “you’re actually not at the corner today?”
“Got dismissed late,” he said with a shrug, “you?”
You let out a chuckle, lifting the paper bag so he could see. “I bought some cookies after school. I thought the flowers on them were cute,” you explained, and for a split second, you swore Juza’s eyes widened slightly.
“… cookies?”
“Hm? Yeah. Do you like cookies?”
“… they’re fine,” he turned to face sideways, though that didn’t hide the pink blooming on his cheeks.
Oh?
“I’ll give you one later,” you said, doing your best to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. How unexpected! That was kind of cute, actually. “We’re going to keep blocking the sidewalk at this rate, we should go.”
Somehow, the silence wasn’t so awkward this time, a little calming, even.
Thursday.
That was weird. No sight of Juza on the way to the flower shop— was he running late? Would he not be coming today, after all? For some reason, the thought made you a little sad. Perhaps you were starting to enjoy his company, after all.
Your co-worker gave you a knowing glance as soon as you entered the building, and any confusion immediately dissipated as you saw your purple-haired… friend? (Did he consider you two as friends?) by the yellow pansies.
“Juza-kun!” you greeted with a smile, pleased to hear him say your name as he greeted you back. Even with just this much, you were glad to have crossed a new boundary with him.
You nearly ran over to him, only stopping midway as you heard quiet laughter. You turned to face your fellow florist, holding up your work apron.
Aha, right.
“I’m only doing this as a favour to Tsukioka-san,” she mimicked as soon as you stepped in the backroom, “he’s not my boyfriend~”
How was this woman older than you?
You groaned, trying to put on your apron as fast as possible before bolting out the door. “Byeeee,” you said, hiding from her line of sight as you rushed over to Juza.
“Hey,” you greeted again, alerting him of your presence, even though he probably already knew you were there beforehand.
“Haven’t seen this one yet,” he commented, eyes a little narrower as he looked at the bouquet of yellow blotch pansies. “You said they meant happiness, right?”
The corners of your lips turned upward. “Oh, you remembered!” you said in delight, if not a little proud, “yep! Happiness in general… but,” you trailed off, causing your companion to look at you with interest.
“Is there another meaning?”
You laughed a little awkwardly, not meeting his gaze while not exactly avoiding it either. “I mean, it’s more of a personal interpretation, so it’s not really important.”
You could still feel his eyes on you, making you feel a bit self-conscious. Aha, seriously, the atmosphere between the two of you was already good— what were you doing?
“… I do think your opinion is important, though.”
You coughed, looking at him with a mixture and disbelief. Surprisingly, he didn’t retract or back down from his statement at all, further amplifying your flustered feelings. He remained unbothered, almost as if he somehow didn’t realise your reaction?
“Um, well,” you began, “you know how there’s like a dark coloured blotch within the yellow follower?”
Juza hummed in response, letting you know that he was following.
“On one hand, I think it could mean pretending to be happy even though you’re in a dark place,” you explained, “but it could mean finding happiness even though you’re battling your inner demons…”
He doesn’t respond for what seems like minutes, and you have half the mind to quickly change the topic. Your interpretation was probably a bit of a reach, wasn’t it? Too edgy, perhaps?
“… that was good,” he said, “I liked what you said.”
Though his praise was simple, you found yourself beaming anyway. It… was nice to know that he appreciated what you said.
Before you could get another word in, you heard the door swing open. You should probably attend to that.
You turned your back to Juza, about to walk away from him until you felt a tug on your arm. You stilled, wondering what could have possibly prompted the sudden contact.
“Juza-kun?” you asked quietly, voice unexpectedly shaky.
“… your apron is loose.”
“Oh! Thanks, I, uh, probably didn’t tie it properly,” you reasoned, your arms reaching back behind you to tie it, a somewhat futile attempt but an attempt nonetheless.
You failed to notice the cherry red blush on Juza’s face, to focused on trying to remove your own.
Friday.
“So how many colours are there?”
“Way too many,” you answered, “like sometimes they come in one colour, sometimes two or three; sometimes pastel, bright, or dark— all of them probably have different meanings too.”
You propped your elbows on the counter, hands cupping your face. In the past few days, you were able to accompany Juza wherever in the shop, but Fridays tended to be more busy compared to the other weekdays, causing the need to be heedful for incoming customers.
“So even more colours to learn…” you laughed out loud. How seriously was he taking this? Just for one flower?
“I mean you only really need to stay until you have enough info to flesh out your character,” you pointed out.
He didn’t reply for a while, and you had nearly worried that something had happened back there, but Juza piped back in the conversation eventually.
“So red symbolises passion, right?”
“Yep!” you said, fingers idly playing with the loose thread of your apron, “though I supposed a lot of red flowers mean passion and love, huh.”
“… and the white pansies?”
“It can mean purity and spirituality,” you started to explain, “but some say that when you give it to someone, you’re telling them to give you a chance.”
The room fell silent once more, but over the course of a week you didn’t mind it anymore. It was a little comforting, actually, having someone around— not even to help you with the shop or anything, but just a friend to talk to.
As you were about to close the shop, Juza appeared in front of you.
“I think I have my character figured out now,” he told you, and you felt yourself swelling with happiness and accomplishment.
“That’s great! Our hard work finally pulled through!”
The tiny hint of loneliness that you felt got left unsaid.
“Sorry for bothering you all week.”
“Trust me, I wasn’t bothered at all!”
Saturday.
“Huh, he’s not gonna be here today?” your co-worker asked as you arrived for your shift, “I legit thought you were joking about just helping him out of the goodness of your heart or whatever.”
You smiled a little sheepishly, “he already figured out what to do for his role. I’m sure he must be busy practising now, so I probably won’t see him around.”
You pretended to not see the look of sympathy thrown your way.
Sunday.
Two weeks had passed since you last saw him, and you chided yourself for thinking that the shop felt a bit emptier lately. At what point did you get so fond of him?
Even now, on the way to the shop, you found yourself stopping at the street corner, as though he’d be there again and was just too shy to enter without you.
Seriously, just what were you doing? Friends could go a while without seeing each other, it wasn’t a big deal.
Or at least that was what you told yourself for a grand total of three minutes, because that all came crumbling down as you saw his familiar figure standing outside the flower shop.
“Juza-kun?”
You approached him with slow steps, briefly wondering if you just went through some next level hallucination, but the closer you got the more evident that he was the real thing.
“Umm, is there something you need?”
His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, not unlike the first couple of days you spent with him. “… here,” he unloaded the two things into your hands, one of which you recognised while the other was a mystery.
You checked the envelope first, a pleasant surprise greeting you.
“A play… your play ticket?” you asked him, and he nodded as though to confirm your assumption.
“I remember you said you weren’t busy during that time and day, so…” with a gentle smile, you tucked the ticket back inside the envelope for safe-keeping.
“I’ll be there to support you, for sure.”
With the mystery item set aside, only the white paper bag with the flower logo was left. Somehow, even without opening it, you already knew what the contents would be.
“… they had other colours and flavours for the cookies,” he said as you took out the small box of 6, “the ones with the white pansies are vanilla and cinnamon flavoured, and the ones with the pink pansies are dark chocolate and raspberry flavoured.”
It took a while for you to comprehend the situation, still a little befuddled by him even appearing again until you realised what he was trying to say.
“White and pink pansies,” you said with a laugh, before ushering him back inside the shop.
You suddenly felt a lot less lonely.
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“ thank you for your hard work today at the flower shop! here, feel free to take home these pansies with you~ ”
【 pansy 】 admiration, remembrance  【 pink pansies 】 gentle tenderness, innocence 【 blue pansies 】 calmness, trustworthiness  【 yellow pansies 】 happiness, bright disposition 【 red pansies 】 passion, love 【 white pansies 】 innocence, purity, “take a chance on me”
“ maybe you’d like some more flowers before heading home? ”
-ˋˏflower shop masterlistˎˊ-  |  -ˋˏfic masterlistˎˊ-
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thepeacetea · 5 years
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Mine (marijon)
Hi guy! So I was painting today and the song Mine by Taylor Swift came on and I thought it would make a cute marijon story.(Because I love this pair and there is not enough of them) Now I have never written a song fic before, but I tried my best. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Peace!
Marinette had finally done it. After four, long years, she had finally graduated high school. For, four years, Lila had continued her reign over the school. She had made good on her threat. No one dared to befriend Marinette, not if they valued their own social lives. Her ‘friends’ from middle school had turned into snakes or just plain abandoned her. She hadn’t hesitated packing her belongings. She didn’t cry when she left Paris a week later. She ignored the fact that her parents hadn’t even said goodbye. Pretending she didn’t see the pitying gazes from the miracle box. She was going to America to study. She didn’t need her family. She didn’t need her ‘friends’.
You were in college, working part-time, waiting tables Left a small town, never looked back I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts
Meeting Jon had been an accident. A real, hundred percent accident that wasn’t Marinette’s fault, this time. It was still a month until classes started and Marinette had a rare day off from her part-time job as a florist. She had been exploring the old shopping district of the city when it had started to rain. She found this little café, tucked away between a book and an antique store, to duck into to wait out the storm.
The chattering of the patrons seemed to enhance the establish charm the café possessed. The rain beating against the windows, the warm smell of coffee and food, and the gentle hum of conversation, brought a sense of calm Marinette hadn’t felt in a while. She had pulled out her sketch book and just drew. Her designs became warm. Full of soft lines and simple, yet elegant personalities.
The scrapping of chairs brought Marinette out of her sketching. She glance up just in time to see one of the costumers, who hadn’t bothered to look around, abruptly get up and turn into one of the waiters. Marinette had just enough time to shove her sketch book to safety as the tray that was being delivered landed on her. The first thing she notice was that it was soup. Hot soup!
“Oh my gosh! Miss, are yo . .” someone, a guy from the sound of the voice started to asked, but the rest of his question halted as Marinette torn off her shirt in a burst of inhuman speed in an attempt to prevent herself from received worse burns.
It was only after she had thrown her shirt across the café did Marinette did her mind catch up with what she had done. She was standing in the middle of a small, crowded café, with every eye trained on her, shirtless! Petrified, she looked up to meet the bright red face of the waiter as he stared right back at her, trying to avoid looking too far down. The guy was an easy 6’, and in comparison to Marinette’s 5’ 2’ frame, it was impossible. It took five, long seconds for Marinette’s brain to reboot. Snatching her sketch book, she clutched it to her chest in a futile attempt to preserve her modesty. The movement seemed to snap the waiter out of his shock. Jerking his bright blue eyes away from her, he undid his waist apron, giving it to her while he guided Mainette into the back.
“I am so sorry! I didn’t see the guy get up but I should have been paying more attention or I should’ve at least made the tray fall another way and your not hurt are you please tell me you didn’t get burned too badly, I can call an ambulance if you want. I’m such an idiot. I’m so fired. I’m so so so sorry.” He ramble in a panic as he rummaged through a pack, presumably looking for something for her to wear.
“Hey. Hey! It’s ok. It was an accident. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the guy that bumped into you. You know, I’m just gonna blame it on him. And I’m fine. I got the shirt off before the it could do any damage. The only thing that’s hurting is my pride.” She assured the boy, giving him an encouraging smile as he handed her a shirt. Slipping it on with a word of thanks, she found it, unsurprising, large on her.
“I’m sorry it’s big. It’s all I have.” Blue eye’s said sheepishly, as if he should’ve had a shirt to fit her in his bag. Marinette couldn’t help the giggle that came. This boy reminded her so much of her younger self.
“Hey, it ok. And don’t feel bad. Losing a shirt in public is not the worse or most embarrassing to happen to me.”
The boy still didn’t look convinced or any less guilty. If anything, his face grew even more red at the reminder of the accident.
“Listen, if you really feel that bad, you can make it up to me by showing me around Metropolis. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
“Yeah. I . . . I can do that.” He said, eyes lighting up at the prospect. “I’m Jon by the way.” He said as one of the brightest smiles light up his face.
“Marinette.”
I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch The moment, I can see it Yes, yes, I can see it now
“Hey Jon?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you hang out with me?”
It had been two months since the two of them had met, and Marinette had felt more safe and . . . loved then she had in the last four years. Jon was with her more often then not. For the first few weeks, Marinette had been a little on edge. She hadn’t had much human contact for years, and what she did was all different forms of bullying. But as time wore on, she began to anticipate when she would meet up with him. Most of their free time was spent wandering the city, with Jon showing Marinette all his favorite spots to visit and they surprising found some places he had never been. Other times, he would drop by her work to talk and buy some flowers for his mother. Marinette had eventually talked him into buying a plant for his apartment after she found out how empty it was. According to Jon, it was still thriving. Other times, she would bug him at the café, were she had quick become known by name. They had become close, and that scared her.
“What kinda question is that?”
“It’s a good question. I mean, your amazing and fun to be around and so open that I can only imagine that you would have a ton of friends.  I mean, why spend so much time with me?”
Jon didn’t answer right away. He kept his gaze fixed on the night sky above them, seemingly so absorbed in the stars that managed to peak through the city skyline that it appeared he didn’t hear her. But Marinette knew him well enough to know when he was thinking. Pulling the blanket closer, she snuggled deeper into the burrow they had made on her roof for star gazing. It was a close to ten minutes before he answered
“Your different. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and other friends, but when I’m with them, they expect me to be a certain way. I have a lot, and I mean a lot to live up to. Both my parents have done so much and I constantly feel this presser to live up to them. And I know I want to. I want to make a difference like they have. I want to help people like they did, and still do.” Jon said, never taking his eyes off the night sky, but Mairnette couldn’t help turning her head to look at her friend. As he spoke, Marinette could understand, she had been in a similar situation not long ago.
“But when I’m with you, it’s as if none of that matters. You’re not expecting me to be like my mom or my dad. I can make mistakes with you and you’re not gonna judge. You’re not gonna think less of me. Honestly, I feel safe with you.” He said, turning to look at her.
Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. She had always known Jon was handsome, but somehow the half-lighting they had made it clear just how much he was. The lighting accented his jawline, causing his babyish face to take on a more mature tone. His blue eyes, which were always behind glasses, where for once free and bare to the world. While they had always been so bright, they had adapted a darker, more alluring blue.
“Well,” Marinette said, clearing her throat slightly. “you have seen me shirtless, so . . .”
“Can you not bring that up, please.” He groaned, throwing his back as he groaned.
“Oh, come on, it’s funny!” Marinette exclaimed, laughter bubbling over in a joyous peel at the sight of his embarrassment.
“No, it’s not! My co-workers still tease me about it.”
“Think about this way, Jon. If that never happened, we never would have met.”
“Well when you put it that way.” Jon sassed, causing Marinette’s laughter to grow as his chuckles joined in.
“Jon,” Marinette said when she regained her breath, “. . . I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“So am I.”
Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine
If Marinette had to tell someone when things started to change between her and Jon, she would always say it was that night on the roof. But it wasn’t until early November that officially changed. It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and the two of them where by Metropolis Bay enjoying one of the last few nice days before winter came. Marinette was going on about one of the customers at the flower shop.
“They wanted an original Thanksgiving center piece. And I was trying to tell her the owner was out and any special orders have to go through her. But she just kept insisting that I could do it. And I was trying to explain to her that one: I cannot do special order, if it’s in the catalogue, I can to it. But if not, I can’t. The owner wants make sure make sure of the quality. And second: Even if I was allowed, I couldn’t because I know next to nothing about Thanksgiving because we don’t celebrate it in France.”
She hadn’t noticed how quiet Jon was, usually he was just as talkative as she was if not more. But today he was very distracted.
“And then . . .”
“Marinettedoyouwanttocometomygrandparentsfarmforthanksgiving!”
“ . . .What?”
“Marinette, do you want to come to my grandparent’s farm for Thanksgiving?” Jon asked again. “Thing is, um, Grandma made a rule that we have to bring any potential girlfriends back for a holiday and . . .”
“. . .  girlfriend?”
“Yeah, um, Marinette. Do, no. This isn’t how I planned it.” Jon stuttered, his face almost a red as when they first met. “Ok. I like you, Marinette. Like, a lot. I honestly have never met anyone like you. Your funny, sarcastic but you don’t over do it, kind , creative, and I, I thought someone like you couldn’t exist And what I’m trying to say is, will you go out with me?”
Marinette had never seen Jon this distraught. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, constantly running through his hair until it looked he had been flying. He kept shifting his weight that it almost looked like he was bouncing. For her part, Marinette’s mind decided to take a vacation. Jon, her first friend in over four years, like her. Liked her to the point where he was inviting her to join him on a family holiday. He was inviting her to meet his family. As a potential girlfriend.
“Jon, I . . .”
“It’s fine it you don’t feel the same way. I . . .” he interrupted her, giving her a way out.
“Jon. Jon, it’s not that. I. . . I just. . . have never . . .  been in a relationship. And I don’t know how they work and I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.” She said, cutting him off. She couldn’t look at him. Not now. She hadn’t told a boy that she liked him since the disaster with Adrien.
“. . . Is that a yes?”
“Ye. . .” Marinette started to say, but was never able to finish as Jon pulled her into one of the most bone crushing and heartfelt hugs that she ever had. For a moment, she was too stunned to respond. It didn’t help that her brain had completely gone to mush. Once what had happened became clear, she returned Jon’s hug with just as much strength. And for the first time in a long time, Marinette felt like everything was going to be ok.
Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes
And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out When it was hard to take Yes, yes This is what I thought about
Marinette had always meant to tell Jon what happened with her life in Paris, why she had to leave. But she never thought it would happen like this. Never because of a nightmare.
Laughter.  Hate filled messages. Adults yelling at her in anger. Pain. The feeling of skin burning in an inferno. Buildings crushing her. The feeling and sounds of bone shattering.  Acid green eyes snaring as claws tore through her stomach.  Someone, someone was grabbing her, shaking her. Her earrings, she couldn’t let them get her earrings. She couldn’t use her arms! He had her arms! Lashing out, she tried kicking him off her, screaming at him. She couldn’t, she couldn’t let him take the earrings.
“. . .te.”
She had to get way.
“. . .ette.”
She couldn’t breath!
“ZHAO!”
That name woke her up. Only one person called her that. Snapped her out of her nightmare. No, her memories. Gasping for air, her eyes darted around the dark room. She knew this room. It was their room. Her and Jon’s. She was safe. She was safe. Why couldn’t she breath?
“Zhao, Zhao. Hey, hey , hey. It’s ok. It’s ok. Your safe. It was just a nightmare. You’re alright, Zhao. You’re alright. I’m here.” Jon’s voice drew her attention back to the person hold her, cradling her face as he gently brushed a hand through her hair. “That’s it. That’s it. Zhao, I need you to breath with me. Can you do that? Breath in. Hold it. And out. That’s good. You’re doing good. It was just a nightmare. Just a dream.”
Marinette knew he was trying to calm her. She knew that. That’s just who he was. But it wasn’t a dream. It was really. She couldn’t keep it locked up anymore. With a strangled cry, she flung herself at her boyfriend, clinging to him. Everything she had been bottling up for the past seven years just burst. She told him everything she had gone through in Paris, starting from when she became Ladybug until she left. All the pain, the doubt, the fear, the frustration came out. Marinette didn’t notice the kwami’s coming out of their box. She didn’t register their attempts to comfort her. The only thing she knew was that Jon was still holding her, rocking her slowly as he pet her hair, listening to her. Marinette didn’t know how Jon’s eyes started to glow in anger, how he curled around her protectively when she finally fell asleep. She didn’t hear his whispered promise to make those who hurt her pay. All she knew was that she was safe.
Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine
Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine
It had was their third anniversary, and they were walking along shoreline. The sun had set hours ago. It was actually close to midnight. The air was crisp, taking on more a winter chill then a fall one. Metropolis Bay was quiet, the lights from the city created a picturesque scene, causing the waters sparkle like diamonds.
Neither were talking. They just walked, hand in hand, simply enjoy the night. Neither had projects, patrols, or meeting to worry about. Today was just for them.
Marinette was happy. She really, truly was. She remembered the morning following her breakdown, she had been so scared that Jon would leave her. That he would think she was too damaged. He had truly surprised her when he had asked to meet the kwamis. How he made sure to have their favorite foods always stocked. Though he had put a limit on Plagga’s cheese intake. The god of destruction learned very fast that if he ate his supplies before the end of the month, he would have to wait until the next month to get more camembert.  The kwamis respected him, and for that, Marinette couldn’t be happier. She loved him, and she was thankful her family did as well.
A tug on her hand brought Marinette back to the present. Turning, she found Jon on one knee. Pulling a box from his coat pocket. He wasn’t. There was no way he was . . .
“Marinette, ever since I met you, I knew you were different. Any other person would have never spoken to me again after what I did. But you did. You put up with me. You let me be myself around you. You, you helped me find who I was. You let me into your life, after so many others had left you. You threw my world of kilter. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. You give me a reason to fight, a reason to show others mercy. You’re the sun in my life, and without you I am half the man I’m suppose to be. I love you. So Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you give me the honour of allowing me to walk by your side? Will you marry me?”
Through his whole speech, Marinette had tears pouring down her face. The more he said the harder her tears fell. By the time he reached the end, there was no way she could speak. All she could manage was a squeak as she nodded her consent. The sheer joy she felt when he slipped the ring on her left hand was almost too much. But her heart truly sung when he kissed her, slow and deep. Brimming with love. She was home.
And I remember that fight, two-thirty a.m. 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street
Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known Then, you took me by surprise You said, "I'll never leave you alone"
She ran through the streets, tears threatening to fall, blurring her vision. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. He was going to hate her now. She had ruined everything.
‘That’s right viewer. According to a reliable and trustworthy source, the one and only amateur ‘designer’, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who is known as the head designer for Jagged Stone, only got her position by sleeping with the artist. According to the source, this arrangement has been going on since the ‘designer’ was 13. She was the one to offer her ‘services’ as long as she was allowed to ‘design’ for the rock star. The real credit for the designs worn by the legendary rock star goes to one Lila Rossi. When asked why she hadn’t come forward sooner, this was her answer.
“Honestly I was scared to. I mean, Marinette had her claws into Jagged so deep that if I spoke up, no one would believe me. After all, who would believe a 14 year old girl over a music legend. But I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. As a designer, I couldn’t let my work be stolen.”
Well, there you have it viewers. Looks like the ‘clean cut designer’ is really a dirty worker.’
The argument that followed was painful. Jon hadn’t said anything for the first five minutes after reading the article that popular blogger, Alya Cesaire, had published a little over an hour ago. The sheer amounts of reads was sickening. Marinette hadn’t even bothered to look at the comments, she couldn’t stand to think what was written. Marinette had panicked and was trying to convince Jon that what was written wasn’t true. The only relationship between her and Jagged was familiar at most. The longer Jon was silent, the more panicked and scared Marinette become.
“Why are you like this?”
The question hit Marinette like a truck. He . . . he thought she was lying? No. He couldn’t. She had told him about Lila. He knew she was a liar. Right?
“She’s lying, Jon. You have to believe me.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m trying to . . .” Marinette started to say, trying to defend herself, but Jon’s voice cut her off.
“Why are you always defending yourself?” He yelled, and Marinette swore she saw his eyes flash red. He . . . he didn’t believe her. He believed the liar.
His words had set something off in her and Marinette did the one thing that gut told her. She ran. Bolted from the house. She couldn’t stay only to have Jon spout accusations at her. She couldn’t see the one person she felt safe with leave her. She didn’t know it was raining, she hadn’t even put on shoes. She just ran. She had no idea where she was going as her bare feet pounded on the pavement. Her foot caught on something, a sharp pain jerking on the top of her foot as her legs gave way. Bracing herself for the fall, she felt arms wrap around her. Arms she knew all too well. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t handle it if he left her too.
You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water. And every time I look at you, it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."
“I am never leaving you, Zhao. Do you hear me? I am never leaving you! You never needed to tell me that trash wasn’t true. Anyone with eyes could see that. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I am so sorry.  I know it set you off and I promised myself I would never cause that. And I did and I’m sorry.  I know I scared you. I was just so angry. I’m so sorry. I love you, and nothing. Nothing is gonna change that.” Jon declared, crushing his fiancée to him. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest doubt tell his zhao that he didn’t mean it.
He felt her stiffen only for a second before she become completely undone. The heart wrenching sobs cut the young, half kryptonian in ways that him see red. Death was too good for the scum that did this to his zhao. No. He was going to make sure there was no way for any of them to recover, specifically that Italian and ‘journalist.’ He would show her what a real journalist could do. But right now, he had his fiancée to care for. Jon was determined to make sure Marinette felt more loved then she had before. He would tear her ex-friends apart later. He also need to call his parents.
The next morning saw the release of three different articles tearing apart both so called ‘article’ about Marinette and all those who where in it. Which was, interestingly, all of her old classmates. All three articles were brutal. One Kent was deadly enough, making recovery nearly impossible. Two Kent’s? Recovery would be impossible in their lifetime. With all three, there would be no hope for their family lines. The world learned one thing that day: Never make Jonathan Kent angry.
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine
Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now And I can see it
While in France, the old class was receiving the backlash of media, with two of them receiving lawsuits like candy, Clark was trying to prevent most of the JL from ‘talking’ to the ex-class themselves. After all, he had dibs as future father-in-law.
And in an apartment in the old district of Metropolis, a couple slept in peace. The boy curled protectively around his small fiancée, shielding her from the world. After all, she was his.
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hitsuackerman · 4 years
Text
Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.12
a/n: so... this has a special guest in the middle >:) i hope ya’ll like this~ i was thinking of a good character to add and i found the perfect one. but the character will only stay for probs 3 chapters or so :D
warnings: this cannot be read solo, crossover
Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 13
Masterlist to my other fics: here :)
Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19​
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“Sit down.”
Now, if that were coming from the person whose face you had just seen you would have obeyed like a puppy waiting for a treat. However, the person inside the room with you carried zero sex appeal. Not an ounce of it. The way he tried to sound sexy was just revolting.
“I’d rather just stand.” You shrugged. “Make this quick. I still have other places to go to.”
“Oh.” He patted the sofa once more before making his way to his desk. “I think you’d want to sit down once I tell you some news.”
With the chief’s back facing you, your eyes rolled and defeatedly went to flop on the sofa. Leaning on to the back lazily. When his chair creaked and sunk, you gestured for him to proceed.
“Regarding the Fukuo Kai case, the meeting will be held 5 days from now, correct?” Your brows furrowed as you fixed your posture. Eyes squinting as to where he had heard that information. He placed his elbows on his desk and tilted his head. A smug look on his face. “Tsukauchi will be taking your place in the stake out.”
“And why is that?”
“You will be attending a meeting with me. The HPSC wants to talk about the arson case.”
“You’re meddling with my cases again.” You snapped. “But, if it pleases you. Okay. However, it won’t be me informing Overhaul.”
Watching as the chief stood up from his desk, he nodded and walked towards you. Filling the emptiness the sofa had to offer.
“It has come to my attention that you two seem rather...close. Rather alarming is it not?”
“Teamwork among the both of us has been going well. Nothing more to it.” What was this germ up to? Your brain couldn’t figure out what his motives were. “I’m being as cautious as I can be. He has not lashed out nor attempted to hurt me in any way unlike the previous people we had to work with.”
“Yet, the mere mention of his name makes you lower your guard down by a significant amount.” Once again, he put his arm behind your neck and squeezed your shoulder. The scent of roses he once had was now replaced with sweat and leather. “You’ve slackened a bit, baby doll.”
Holding on to his wrist, you twisted it as you stood up. Bending it at a weird angle, your eyes bore holes on to his face. The playful fire in his lit up even more. It made you think, did the other women in the precinct go through this? Subtly activating your quirk, you raised his blood pressure.
“You know I’m getting real tired of your shit…” You threatened him. Hand shaking with anger.
Your head snapped to the door when a knock filled the walls. Letting go of his wrist, he rubbed it but the smug look on his face did not falter. Straightening himself and gaining composure once more, he went towards his desk and told the person to enter.
“Right on time. Ms. (L/N), for the next two days, you will be pairing up again with one of the officers from the Kyoto precinct.” His face followed the person who now entered the office. “Mr. Ackerman, we hope you enjoy your stay here.”
You bit your tongue. Internally activating your quirk, you managed to control the blood travelling to your cheeks. You’ve heard about Mr. Ackerman. A few of your previous cases had you teaming up with him. One thing led to another but it was one of your most well kept secrets. One that not even the chief caught scent of.
How many years had it been? Three or four? The scenery was still fresh in your mind. His words that stung and broke you for months. Still, he was a gentleman. Not wanting to diminish the cooperation you two had, differences were set aside and apologies were exchanged. It ended on a rather better note than you had anticipated.
Of course, there was no denying that the sight of Levi still managed to increase the steady pacing of your heart.
“Ackerman.” You greeted him. Eyes focused on the chief. A useless attempt to read him.
“(L/N).” His voice was still the same. Enticing yet dead at the same time.
“Why don’t you two catch up?” The chief gestured for the both of you to leave the office. Hearing both your responses, he watched as Levi motioned for you to leave first and followed behind. Just as you were about to exit, he spoke up. “And, by the way, update Overhaul’s profile. Put in his name.”
Your eyes widened and jaw tightened. Slowly exhaling, you continued walking. When you heard the door closing, you began to feel around your clothes for any sort of mini-chip that he had planted on you. Not feeling anything, your thoughts replayed to all the touching he had done.
“Fuck…”
“Oi, brat. What’s wrong?” Levi asked.
“He fucking bugged me. Eavesdropped on an off the record scenario a while back.” Anger was now boiling in your blood. Not for the chief but for the fact that you failed in detecting his subtle schemes. No wonder he was all touchy this morning. When your eyes met his, his eyebrows shot up and you could see how he put two and two together.
“It’s been three years, he’s still doing those things to you?” The both of you were now walking towards your cubicle. Back when you were dating, Levi could see just how devious the chief was towards you. He may have threatened him once or twice, the scene before him only fused a died out wick. “You could have just told me, you know.”
“I know.” He had told you time and time again that you should watch your back when it came to the man inside the office. Yet you always brushed it off. Basically, you were now reaping the consequences of being ignorant. “You know I hate causing scenes.”
“Tch. Not a single change from you.” There it was. That smirk that made you weak. Pulling your chair for you, he waited for you to sit till he dragged the empty seat next to yours. “What do you have on the arson case?”
Taking out a file, you handed it over to him and gave him the details so far. He simply did the typical Levi gestures. Nodding his head with the occasional comments.
“I’m honestly at a dead end, but Tsukauchi managed to pick up a straw.” You showed him your schedule. “I’ll be meeting up with Endeavor in 4 days. I can keep you updated if you'd like."
"It's fine. I can stay till after the meeting." Typical. Work was always first when it came to him.
"Where are you staying? You can crash the guest room if you'd like."
"You sure? Gei isn't visiting tonight?" That flamboyant man had always amused him but he'd never tell. He did, after all, get a few phrases from the man himself.
"Nope. You're free to crash. It will require you to buy food." You smiled and that sealed the deal. Agreeing, he stood up to take his things from the lockers as you readied to leave the office.
Moments had passed and both of you were now in your car. Levi offered to drive so you gave him the keys.
"You still into (favorite food)?” He asked. Eyes searching for what food to have for dinner. You were the host so your wants came first.
“Nah. Ov-I’ve had it this afternoon. We can go with whatever you want.” You knew where he was going. He would go to Solive Garden. He was always a sucker for their salad and made from scratch soup. Your thoughts were right when he turned on the next corner. The green sign now within sight. Lucky enough, he saw a vacant lot and parked the car.
Meanwhile, the car parked opposite from yours had a rather different aura going on.
“Mimic.” Overhaul threatened the small creature sitting in the backseat. “You had one job and that was to order food from Niller Union.”
“It wasn’t my fault, boss!” He chirped. “They cancelled at the last minute. I already told them that the leader of the yakuza was the one ordering but they just ended the call.”
Massaging his temples, he could feel the hives starting to form due to rage at the small mishap. Somehow, he had found himself in the car with Chrono behind the wheel and Mimic strapped like a child in the back. Perhaps he just needed a change of scenery since he had no interest in demolishing the whole base tonight. Or so he thought.
“Hey… Isn’t that?” Chrono thought out loud to get Overhaul’s attention.
You had just exited your car, with Levi opening the door for you. Seeing how you were all smiles with another male was something he had not expected. More so when the other male was none other than Levi Ackerman. His golden orbs followed as the two of you walked side by side, entering the establishment.
Chrono simply watched his boss through his peripheral view. What would he do in this instance? It was hidden well but he could see Kai slowly appearing from the depths of Overhaul.
“Mimic. Get out of your suit and buy the meal.”
“Aw, c’mon! Just cause your jealous of that lady with Ackerwacker doesn’t mean you get to use me to spy on them.”
Boy, did Chrono wish he had popcorn.
“You caused this mess. Now get the hell out of that suit before I kill you inside this very car. THRICE.”
Incoherent cursing soon followed. Mimic was sporting his true form. Veins popping from anger. Slamming the door, he stomped towards the store before flipping the vehicle off. Now that the two of them were alone, he waited till Overhaul seemingly calmed down.
“They’re probably just teaming up for a case.” Chrono stated. He was secretly living for the moment. It wasn’t too often he’d see the boss in that state. In his mind, he knew that Kai would ask him to trail you till you reach your building.
“Then why the hell is that troublemaker driving her car, Kurono?” His inner thoughts were thinking of scenarios as to why you would spend time with Ackerwacker. That smile you showcased was something he barely got from you. And then we have this shortstack who got it from you effortlessly. “Follow her till she gets home.”
There it was.
“Isn’t she too preoccupied to date?” Conversations were still possible as of the moment. “I thought you were slowly advancing already.”
“She never stated she was single or not.” Not that it mattered. He would do whatever it takes to make you his. No one had ever fallen asleep on the phone with him, spoke to him so freely, or even sent a rather inviting selfie at 11pm. Furrowing his brows at his thoughts, he cleared his throat and let out a sigh. “Forget it. She’s merely a pawn that I can easily replace. Go back to base after this.”
‘He’s back.’ Chrono thought. That was the end of the conversation. But, that small gesture was a sign that he was internally fighting his consciousness. ‘Shit. This is going to be a long night.’
The doors slid open once more. Ackerw-Levi and you were making your way back to your car. You were holding the take out while he held onto the drinks. The two men inside the car watched as the unwanted man stretched out his hand to grab the food from your arms. The car was hella tinted but he could see the small blush growing on your cheek.
Once more, Chrono wished he had some popcorn.
They observed as Levi opened your car door and handed you the food. His jaw tightened and fists clenched when he saw him entering the driver’s side. He was too engrossed that he had not noticed Mimic entering the car. Struggling in the backseat due to his size. When your car revved to life, all 3 men watched as the car left.
Starting the car, Chrono knew his boss’ mind flipped into Kai. Taking his time, he slowly drove out of the establishment.
“Follow them, Kurono.”
- - - -
so... did ya’ll like today’s special guest? xD I love Levi Ackerman so I decided to just use him for the sake of drama huehuehue still :) if ya’ll have comments or questions, feel free to ask :D take care!
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mimssides · 4 years
Text
Life on Crow Avenue: Part 5
Read on AO3
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Warning: Suicidal thinking from Remus!
__
It was a hot Wednesday and Remus was stacking a few big plant pots in front of their store and then checked the time on his phone. It was already a little after twelve and they ought to take their much-needed lunchbreak.
With a groan he straightened up and pressed his hands on the small of his back and stretched. It cracked a little and Remus remained in the position for a second. He looked up. He didn’t really see anything, just stared into the nothing.
He’ll be fine. He’s fallen for the jazz boy. It’s fine.     It’s fine.     He will be fine.     He has enough to support himself.     He will be fine.     And you’ll be free.
Then Remus heard his name being called out. Franticly, he turned around. Directions were hard to pinpoint and it didn’t help that he somehow knew the voice but was not too familiar with quite yet.
“Up here!” the voice shouted and Remus lifted his gaze and found the face which belonged to the voice.
Widely he smiled at Patton, who was waving through the window from the second floor in the house next to theirs. He waved back and shouted up a Hi, waiting for Patton to continue.
“Wait a second! I’ll come down!” Patton said and Remus stemmed his hands in his hips waiting for the man to join him outside.
He did not have to wait a minute until Patton came out and walked towards him. As of now he wore a white tank top and blue shorts with little rubber ducks on it and Remus got a look of the tattoos on his upper arms and calves. It was not a first, in the past week and a half he had seen Patton several times in shorter clothes as he walked into their store to talk with him and such, but Remus enjoyed the view nevertheless. The colours and motives were so interesting to him and had inspired some ideas in his head.
“Hi!” Patton beamed anew.
Remus grinned and repeated his own Hi again, while Patton stepped closer and then halted barely two feet from him and folded his hands in front of his chest. A grin tugged at corner of Remus’s lips and he put his hands inside of his pants’ pockets.
“Eh, I just wanted to ask if you and Roman maybe wanted to eat lunch with me and Lo? We usually eat together when I don’t have a client over noon and well, I thought the more the merrier?” Patton asked and looked expectantly at Remus.
Remus blinked a little taken aback. Having lunch with Patton and Logan? Something they apparently did every day, was part of their day to day life and they wanted him and Roman to take part of this? Remus had already been surprised when Patton had invited him again for the jazz night last Friday and now this?
   It is too good to be true.  
“I’d love to! I’ll just ask Ro if it’s fine with him. Let me go and ask him right now!” Remus said and already turned towards the entrance of their store.
He did not notice that Patton followed him and he was quick to call for Roman in Spanish: “We’re invited for lunch with Patton and Logan? You good with that?”
“Yeah sure! Do you think they might want eat from the fajitas I prepared? Oh and-” Roman shouted, while walking out from the back and stopped as he saw Patton behind his brother.
Almost unnoticeably Roman motioned with his chin behind Remus and then addressed Patton with a smile: “Hi! I heard we’re invited for lunch? All bring their own food? Or should we bring something for everybody?”
Patton blinked a little surprised and lifted his hands.
“Uh, we usually bring our own stuff or more like I get something from the bakery down the street and Lo eats a sandwich but I doubt he’d be upset if you’d bring something for us?”
The upset and offended look Roman gave Patton when he said that Logan ate a sandwich for lunch almost scared the tattoo artist and he felt like he was supposed to apologize for letting Logan eat like this. And he felt a little bit as if he was in danger as well, since he also just went to the bakery or to a general store to get a little snack for lunch, which was apparently something Roman didn’t find acceptable.
“Please tell me you eat fajitas,” Roman said merely supressing the offence in his voice and Remus next to him rolled his eyes in annoyance.
Patton’s eyes darted nervously from one brother to the other until they landed on Roman and he answered: “I like them? As far as I know Logan does too; he just doesn’t eat them too ho-”
“Oh, hotness is no problem. I always make different sauces because Remus doesn’t like hot as well,” Roman cut him off with a pleased look and cracked is fingers. “So, I can get both of you an actual lunch instead of a meagre sandwich and whatever you’d normally get from the bakery. Ah, and do you think Jay and Virgil could join as well? Or did you ask them already?”
A laugh escaped Patton’s mouth and he looked over to Remus who just shook his head. So, there was a little bit of quirkiness in the otherwise so charming Roman after all. It made Patton like him a lot more and he turned his attention back to Roman.
“The more the merrier! I’ll ask them right away! If you want you can already go over to Logan’s. He’s in the backroom of his shop. You’ll find it with no problem!”
___
Five minutes later the six men sat around a round table in the backroom of Logan’s shop. The room had two big windows in the corner, which faced into the backyard. They had them closed as the air conditioning created a far more pleasant temperature than airing could. Besides the table there was a little counter with a microwave on it and a sink in the otherwise empty room.
Still it was a nice atmosphere, as Roman had laid out eight different bowls with condiments and fillings in them, so all could choose what they wanted to put on their tortilla. The smell filled the room and Roman’s explanation which was what and how hot everything was, made it all even homelier than it had been before.
Unabashedly, Remus started putting his first fajita together Patton then following his lead. Virgil carefully started to put his own together, asking Roman at every ingredient he wanted if it was the vegetarian option, which Roman confirmed every time.
Janus, Logan and Roman took a little more time to put their meal together, as Janus just liked to take his time, Logan was a little picky and Roman just wanted to enjoy the process of composing his own meal and the being together with his little group. It was something that was dear to him and his grin and glee managed to convey that quite well to the other men.
“¡Buen provecho!” the twins said and toasted each other with their fajitas.
Virgil repeated the phrase in a mumble, Patton said it loudly and with the wrong pronunciation but it was the thought that counted. At least it made Remus grin and Patton was entirely happy with that outcome.
“Thank you for the meal,” Logan said directed to Roman, as Janus just nodded and took a bite from his own fajita.
Roman smiled widely and responded after swallowing the bite he had taken: “No problem at all! I’m just happy giving something proper to eat.”
“A sandwich is a perfectly proper meal, thank you very much,” Logan argued and eyed the food in his hands with interest. “But I have to admit that this does look better than what I usually have.”
“I’d hope so! Now stop talking and eat! It won’t get any better the longer you wait.”
Logan nodded at Roman’s instructions and finally started eating. And for a few moments the room was a quiet except for the sound of chewing.
That was until Patton chirped up and said excitedly: “This is delicious Roman! You said you made all the condiments and fillings yourself?”
“Thank you! Yeah, I make them myself. It’s not that hard really. Just takes a bit of time. I usually prepare everything in the evening when I make dinner,” Roman said in a humble manner and not with the pride one could have expected from the otherwise rather boisterous man.
“What are you talking about? This still, like, takes a lot of work to do, right? And did you make the tortillas yourself? They are a lot better than the ones we get from the store,” Virgil chimed in and tapped the tortilla of his fajita.
Roman shrugged and cast his eyes down to his hands, unsure of how to respond.
Remus on the other hand knew exactly how to respond: “Yah, he makes the dough himself. We have premade tortilla dough in the freezer. He’s really good at cooking in general. At least better than I.”
“So, you have an interest in cooking, Roman? And I have to agree with Patton; it tastes very good,” Logan agreed and eyed Roman patiently until the man looked up again.
“Well, what can I say? At one point Chinese takeout just didn’t do it for me anymore, and I learnt making some stuff myself. It’s fun. And tastes better than the stuff you buy.”
Roman barely had met Logan’s eyes and was now looking down into his lap. Eyeing his tummy and trying to not focus on the words in the back of his mind. He knew that they must see the heavy thoughts in his posture and the uncertainty in the air around him. But he could not help it; talking about food, about cooking, it made him somehow always feel guilty about his weight, especially when Remus sat so close by. Proving in a way that he could look much differently if he-
“It’s certainly healthier to cook for yourself instead of ordering all the time. Also, if I understand correctly you are self-taught? Learning such a skill all by yourself is impressive, Roman. I at the very least am impressed.”
Roman looked up and glanced over to Janus who fixed him with a calm look. A little laugh escaped Roman’s lips and he tilted his head to the side, before he thanked Janus and let their lunch continue peacefully.
Logan began to ask Roman what kind of cuisine he preferred to cook from and Roman started explaining that he had taught himself a lot of Mexican, Tex-Mex and Italian dishes because he liked those in particular. And also, because he wanted to rekindle with his Mexican heritage, which he did not elaborate on much further and left it to the other men’s imagination what that could mean.
All in all, it was a rather comfortable meal and Patton was more than happy that he had gone and asked Patton to join them for their lunchbreak.
They put the empty plates and bowls in the sink and Roman asked Logan where the bathroom was and then excused himself for a moment. Remus, who stood at the sink, ready to wash the dishes, looked after him and turned to look at Janus the second Roman was out of sight and earshot.
“Jazz boy?” Remus said with an oddly creepy grin.
Janus quirked his eyebrow up and Remus continued: “If you dare to hurt him, I’ll break your fucking neck. He deserves everything in the world and if you make him unhappy, I will make you regret it. That’s a promise.”
And just like that Remus turned back to the sink, turned the faucet on and started doing the dishes, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. All stared at him and Remus was well aware they did. And yet he didn’t care.
“Do I want to know what your fucking problem is with me?”
Remus halted in his movements and looked back over his shoulder to Janus. Janus who looked oh so offended, oh so pissed off. Remus almost got a little kick out of it, but he knew this was not the time to anger the man more. He just needed him to understand one thing.
“I have no problem with you whatsoever,” Remus replied simply and pulled his beanie further down over his forehead.
Janus let out a huff and wanted to sneer a comment but Remus didn’t let him. With a grin that really did not look like one he said: “I don’t want a problem with you. I don’t care for you and I’ve told you that before. But I do care about Roman. And he’s very, very serious about you. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him so goddamn happy and I can not have you destroy that for him. He deserves love and a goddamn home of his dreams. And I need you to know that, to respect that and to run the fuck away if you just dare to disagree with any of the things I said. Because I cannot see him hurt more than he already is. Am I understood?”
Janus just stared at Remus. He wanted to argue. Probably not about Roman, but how Remus was interfering with their relationship. How he clearly overstepped a line in meddling with his brother’s life and how he could not say such inappropriate things towards Janus, who he barely knew. But Janus didn’t start to argue but shook his head and remained quiet.
Not a man of confrontation.
Probably would help Roman in the future, to have someone like that by his side.
Again, Remus turned to the faucet and started doing the dishes. The door was opened and Roman came back in looking around and immediately sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere. For a second, he seemed confused then he glanced over to Remus and sighed.
“What did he threaten you with?” Roman asked and stemmed his hands in his hips.
Janus scoffed and watched his fingernails with great interest.
“Oh nothing. Don’t bother.”
Roman rolled his eyes and walked over to Remus, took a towel and started dry the dishes, Remus had already washed and asked his brother: “What have you threatened him with?”
“I’ll break his neck!”
“Pff, good one. And you’re not going to do that. I’m sorry Janus. He’s getting ahead of himself.”
As Janus made an unvoluntary offended squeaking sound, Logan frowned and said: “Is this something that happens so regularly with the two of you or why exactly are you so unfazed by your brother threatening to murder people?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Roman answered and looked over him, while setting the plate in his hands down. “But I know he gets overprotective when I’m genuinely interested in a guy. He has yet to actually follow through with any of those threats he made, so don’t worry about it.”
“Genuinely interested?” Virgil repeated with big eyes and looked over to his uncle, who, for once, did not appear to be quite as cool and collected as he usually was.
Roman just chuckled a little and lightly brushed against Remus and just continued doing the dishes. Patton exchanged a look with Logan. The bookshop owner raised his eyebrows and Patton giggled a little before he walked over to the twins and helped them doing the dishes.
Remus began asking Patton about what kind of tattoos he did and which kind of clients he had, which was a huge jump from their prior topic, but Patton was happy to answer and talked a bit about his clientele with sometimes Logan adding a few observations he made over the years of Patton’s clients mistakenly walking into his shop. The conversation remained friendly and Virgil bid his goodbye soon, so he could get back to the store and check on the pets. Patton was next to go, as he had to prepare his studio for the next client and whished the twins, Logan and Janus a good afternoon.
As Logan was talking with Remus about a new crime series that had been delivered to his store, Janus started to leave and was promptly accompanied by Roman. He side eyed him curiously as he stepped out of the bookstore. His smile was unfaded and it was too easy forget how unhappy and ashamed he had looked down at himself during lunch.
Janus didn’t forget.
“I’m really sorry about Remus,” Roman pulled him out of his thoughts and Janus put a smile on his face.
“Oh, it’s fine. He totally did not overstep any personal boundaries at all,” he said and stopped putting both hands on his cane in front of him.
Roman scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically.
“I know, I know. He’s a lot. But he means well. And I think he and you could actually be pretty good friends.”
“Yeah sure.”
Roman sighed with a smile and shoved Janus softly in the shoulder. He did not miss the little grin that stole itself on Janus’s lips and just looked at him for a moment. He was just so beautifully charming.
Then Roman broke out of his trance and said: “Don’t be like this. I’ll have something to make it up to you! Wait a second!”
Like that he turned around and jogged towards their store and disappeared inside for a minute. Slightly surprised but also intrigued Janus watched him re-exiting holding something behind his back and tilted his head sceptically. Roman grinned brightly and brought forth a bright bouquet from behind his back. Next to some decorative fern and grass it mainly contained little sunflowers and violets and Janus felt his jaw drop.
He had never been gifted flowers before.
Overwhelmed Janus looked from the bouquet to Roman, who’s smile was more than complacent, and quickly cleared his throat and then tenderly took the bouquet Roman had gifted him.
“I guess you accept my offering for amends?” Roman asked far too softly for Janus to handle.
Janus made an effort to straighten his back met Roman’s eyes steadily before saying a bit too quickly: “I’ll consider it.”
Both knew that was a yes.
“Thank you for the meal, Roman. It was very good.”
“It’s fine. Eating with you all was very nice. We’ll have to do that again.”
“I agree…”
They looked at each other for a bit longer. Noon was not endless and they could only stand here for so long.
“I’ll have to get back to Virgil. Can’t have him deal with the customers on his own,” Janus said not making a move.
“Yeah, we can’t have that, can we?”
“No, we really can’t…”
Roman clasped his hand behind his back and turned a little towards to the flower shop.
“So, I guess, I’ll see you soon?” he said as if he thought Janus would never show up again.
Janus nodded, forgetting to add words for a moment and then said: “Yes, you’ll see me soon. We live almost at the same street after all.”
“Cool. Then, uhm, so long?”
Janus grinned and finally turned to walk away.
“Yes, so long Roman. Take care,” Janus said throwing Roman a lingering look and walked over to the pet store.
Meanwhile, Remus and Logan had stood behind the shop window and observed the two lovebirds with blank faces. Logan had met a few of Janus’s acquaintances but as far as he remembered none of them had ever rendered the man so obviously flustered like Roman did. And for the latter it also seemed like he was presenting a side of himself which did not seem to be something he liked to show off on a regular basis.
At least that was what Logan assumed judging by Remus’s look and the things he had said at lunch.
But in Remus head was only one thought. It made his heart a little heavy but not as much as it made him feel relieved.
   He won’t be alone.   They’re not going to leave him alone.    I can go.    Finally go.
___
@varthandi
@sickeningly-deceitful
@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander
@unoriginalgayboyalex
@alexisrealgay
@softie-sushi
@wolfs-feder
@just-a-neoclassical-painting
For this fic:
@frawkeye
@arodynamic-enby
@espepspes​
@ladysuperheros
@bullet-tothefeels
@fukindork
@shadeofadye
@magic-but-its-green
@liv-is-a-fander
@croftersjam15
26 notes · View notes
butter3drainbows · 4 years
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Ughhh I’ve felt really emotionally drained recently, so is it ok if I request some hcs of Bruno, Caesar, or Lisa Lisa trying to help a neurodivergent/stressed/tired s/o calm down and relax? Sorry for the oddly specific ask lol you don’t have to answer if it’s too niche lolol
I don't usually accept requests but the inbox is empty and you managed to spark inspiration so Imma write you some anon ❤️ I hope they manage to make your day/night a little better 🥺🌃💖
Bruno
Bruno will immediately pick up on your demeanor but won't say anything at first
I know fandom usually depicts him as this smooth, romantic gentleman who knows exactly what his S/O will need or want given a situation but canon Bruno hasn't exactly been surrounded by loved ones for most of his life since he joined Passione so I imagine him being more clumsy in his efforts to make his S/O feel better.
Dealing with an S/O he truly loves and cares about when they're feeling down is admittedly a challenge for him. It takes a little more delicacy and warmth, not like how he would usually go about it when one of his teammates is feeling bummed out where a few encouraging words and a firm grip on their shoulders will do
He will worry if the efforts he's exerting are enough to cheer you up and will constantly be assessing your mood every few minutes
He would take you out for a walk around the city and offer to buy you whatever catches your eye
You've been eyeing that cute stuffed toy behind the glass windows? He'll usher you in the shop and while you browse the items in the store, he will already have purchase the stuffed animal and present it to you.
"For you, amore...O-oh do you not like it? Don't worry! I can get you another one. I'll let you choose this time. You like it? Oh, that's a relief but I can still get you another one of your choosing if you like."
The relief on his face will be evident when he sees you smile genuinely for the first time after a few of his purchasing blunders.
Will feel his stomach flutter when he manages to make you laugh.
He managed to make you smile tonight. He guessed he's doing something right after all.
Caesar
Will notice the droop of your shoulders and the less than bright look on your face right away.
No matter how much you hide your true feelings from Caesar, he will without fail, manage to coax out your grievances to him.
He will coo at you and ask you what's wrong and generally make your own personal bubble his own as he pulls you onto his lap or just holds you close while he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks.
If you don't feel like going out he will offer to make you dinner at home. This man knows how to cook! He can't be the designated cassanova of the series and not know how.
He will announce to his staff that he will be cooking for you and himself tonight but will leave them the responsibility of prepping a table by the gazebo outside his large home.
He knows you are feeling a little better if you hover somewhere beside him while he cooks. He offers you small spoonfuls of the food he will serve and run a thumb at the corners of your lips with every morsel he feeds you.
The light in your eyes when you get a taste of his cooking will have his heart constricting. How can you be this cute!?
"Does it need anything? More salt? Pepper? Perhaps more sugar? Oh, Would you like for me to administer it through a kiss? Haha I'm only teasing, mio cuore. Hmm finally, you're smiling."
After dinner, he invites you to go for a little evening stroll. He will try to bring up a conversation but if he feels like you need more peace and quiet, will indulge you and simply hold you close while you walk.
If he sees you starting to show signs of being sleepy, he will sweep you off your feet and carry you back to the mansion, shushing your protests with kisses if there are any.
You deserve everything that he could offer and more and he will willingly lay all the earthly treasures he can afford at your feet if it means getting to see you smile.
Lisa Lisa
If you made the mistake of letting your stress/tiredness show in front of LL, prepare to explain everything to her.
One look with a soft "Tell me what's wrong, dove." while she tips your chin up will be all it takes to have your thoughts spilling.
I like to think that Lisa Lisa will directly solve your problems for you if the source of your problems are coming from a situation that she can somehow pull some strings on.
You would beg her not to and insist to just let you deal with it on your own and help you relax because that's all you need right now. She would acquiesce with a frown but will agree to help you forget about your worries with activities that will help you relax.
She will either take you out for a relaxing day at the spa or a shopping spree in your chosen stores (clothes, books, pets, plants, hardware you name it, she'll get it for you)
She will keep on bringing up her offer to "pull the problem by the root" while she holds you by the hips while you walk, but you insist that it's unnecessary and that spending time with her is enough.
"The offer still stands, my sweet. There are little things that I am unwilling to do for you, you know that."
Despite your protests, she will do as she pleases anyway and passively clip the thorn/s that have been bothering you.
She imagines that you would tell her how it was really unnecessary for her to do the things she did behind the scenes but it wouldn't have sit well with her knowing you had these kinds of troublesome situations that she knows she has the solutions for.
She just wants you to live comfortably and be happy and she will let you know that she will try her hardest to keep you that way, consequences be damned.
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recently the mood has just been no thoughts, head empty; just soft SKZ Virgo boys~
okay okay okay. okayokayokay. let’s talk about the virgos. (this is going to be a long post, so go make yourselves some popcorn or tea or white wine or somethin because i have been wanting to write this from the moment i started this blog and this bitch is long.)
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it’s a little impressive, honestly, to have a group of eight people consist of three virgos. considering it’s one of the most underappreciated signs in the zodiac, that’s a lot of earth sign, and that’s a lot of virgo. but i think the interesting thing about the virgos in stray kids is that they are all different versions of the same sign. like one of those pokemon whose evolution is the same creature, just with a different coat color. they play so perfectly off and into each other. it very much feels as if it was meant to be. 
let’s start with the baby.
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seungmin is almost a cusp. he’s right on the border of libra and virgo, which means he inherited a little bit of both. cusps are often pretty conflicted people, but i think seungmin wears it well. he’s got the steadiness of a virgo—his feet are planted firmly in the soil. he’s got the motivation of a virgo, that self-discipline that verges on cruel. listening to the paranoid ways that he cares for his voice—no a/c, only masks, no shouting—that’s that virgo neurosis. he’s the controlled virgo, the perfectly-aligned virgo. the stereotypical virgo. good with money, level-headed in an argument, prone to fits of contained anger if things don’t go his way or he experiences unanticipated setbacks. he’s the impatient, exasperated, long-suffering virgo mom friend. tough love, rough love. brutal honesty and uncensored opinions. getting his teammates out of bed and into the van, forcing vitamins down their throats, throwing sunscreen at their backs and water bottles at their heads because god fucking damnit, can’t they take care of themselves for once? the advice-giver, the maknae with a head full of barbed wisdom. he’s the knows better kid, because he does. seungmin knows better. he knows what to do, so he’s the one they call. night or day. i’ve messed up, i think i really messed up this time. and he’ll talk them off a ledge, go to the only all-night grocery store, buy some ice cream and some gummy vitamins. show up at jisung’s door and say take a deep breath. you’re going to be okay, peabrain. grow up a little. sharp and a little bit caustic, but his friends have learned that the sting usually means he’s right.  
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and within that rough love, there are moments of unthinkable sweetness. holding hands under the table to calm nerves at radio interviews, pressure on the back of a neck to hold back a panic attack at an airport, warm arms under the covers the night before a concert. the ability to bring such profound comfort is uniquely virgo--it exists nowhere else in the zodiac. no other sign has the capacity to ground, to center. there is assurance of course in the gentle touch of others, of the i feel you, i am with you, you’re going to be okay. but that’s not how seungmin brings comfort. it’s not gentle, it’s not soft. it’s not treating someone like they’re about to shatter to pieces. it is an unyielding and forceful kind of comfort. you are breathing. your heart is beating. you are alive--now fucking act like it. that’s what seungmin does, he brings his teammates back to the ground and he ties them there, strings a rope between his hand and theirs so that there is no slipping away. it’s a rough love, a tough love, but it works. like splashing your face with cold water, or pinching the back of your hand. a little bit of pain – just a little – to remind you that you are still alive. you’re still feeling. and then seungmin will sit and he will wait and he will keep his teammates together until they’re strong enough to do it themselves. nothing weathers the winds and the waters of time like a virgo’s love. 
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there are souls in this world who have lived many lives. people that you encounter and can sense, somehow, somewhere, a very immense sort of old. not old like grandparents or textbooks, not old as in dusty attics or love letters, black and white photographs. old as in ancient. like the sea, or the mountains, the canyons. the redwood trees and the milky way. sometimes you encounter people who hold that great vastness of time in them, and yongbok is one of those people. his soul has been around for a very, very long time. it’s seen the oceans rise and the moon go yellow. this is not its first time on earth, nor will it be its last.
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yongbok is the old-soul virgo. the contemplative, philosophical one with his head in the clouds. he spends a lot of his time thinking, just like all virgos do. they are the overthinkers, the worriers. worring over things that have happened, are happening, will happen. past, present, and future, worry worry worry. and i know he doesn’t really come across like that at first. i too was fooled into believing that yongbok does not have a brain. plot twist: i actually think yongbok might use his brain the most. not for common sense, or anything. like let’s be real: yongbok has definitely never asked himself whether the thing that he is doing, such as eating a banana peel or gluing googly eyes to all of minho’s possessions, is a good thing to be doing. that thought process has never entered his head, nor will it ever enter his head. this is because wisdom and intelligence are different traits, and while yongbok’s got wisdom coming out the ass, he’d sit on wet paint because he didn’t take the time to read the sign. i think that’s why i’ve always felt like yongbok wasn’t really made to be an idol. like, of course he deserves it and he belongs with stray kids. he’s good enough and he’s brave enough and he’s strong enough. but there’s just something about him that screams i was not made for a life of glass and steel and concrete. i was not made for a camera lens. he was made for a cottage on the edge of the sea where he can sit and contemplate the great unknown unhindered by paparazzi or a world-class act. he’s too soft for that, too gentle. too sincere and genuine and open-hearted.
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i think yongbok learning to make peace with the discord within himself though – an inner yearning for a simple life and an unquenchable thirst for success – by finding fulfilment outside of the business end of stray kids and devoting himself instead to his members. i could talk for hours about yongbok and his cooking and his sunshine, but i’ll restrain myself and just say: yongbok isn’t the backbone of the team. he doesn’t have the strength and willpower the way chan or minho do, the physical capacity to endure weight and pressure and carry his teammates to the finish line like changbin. he’s not grounding like seungmin or jeongin, he’s not electrifying like jisung, and he doesn’t bleed humanity like hyunjin. yongbok’s power, his role in stray kids, comes from his softness and his genuine love for them. the way he looks at them like they hung the stars. the gentle, silly, dumb ways he loves them, gives and shows that love just by being present. he’s the sunshine kid, he brings warmth because he brings love, because it comes off of him in waves. 
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and then there’s jisung. little jisung! a virgo in his own right, although you wouldn’t think it given his propensity for dramatics and conflict and stage-stealing. what makes jisung a virgo is his defiance. i’ve talked about it before, could talk about it until i was blue in the face, but jisung is filled with fire. i don’t know what force made him this way, but whatever it was, it made him with the intention to burn. burn down stages, burn down cities, burn down countries. ashes to ashes and dust to dust, jisung is meant to bring the world to its knees. there is a hurricane in him, a maelstrom. it strains at the seams of his skin to be released, rages against his bones until they crack under the weight of all the life he’s kept contained. there is a light in him that will never go out and every day he fights against it swallowing him whole. 
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that kind of fire knows no master. cannot be handled, cannot be contained. cannot be scripted or framed or repositioned. there is no politics in jisung’s fury and ocean, it is just sheer energy and flame—human spirit, you could say. virgos are masters of their own fates. they do not let higher powers take their will from them. the backbone of every revolution is a virgo, because they’re unfazed in the face of authority. virgos only believe in power they can see and touch. that means they are not fallible to state or god. no wonder why jyp had such trouble with jisung at first—there’s no way a kid like that, with that much cyanide and gasoline in his veins, fell into line. in fact, we know he didn’t. in a place so constrained and regimented as an entertainment company, someone like jisung must have chafed at every corner. virgos can’t be tricked into believing, there will be no blind faith from them. you have to put your money where your mouth is and prove yourself. not just that you’ve got a cause worth fighting for, but that you’re even worth the time of day to listen to in the first place. i don’t know about you, but i kinda doubt jyp’s menacing management staff and their consumerist rhetoric made the cut. it’s one in a list of a million reasons why chan stands out to me, why i know he’s so much more than he lets on. because for all that jyp entertainment tried to force jisung to his knees, chan only needed to ask. 
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aside from raging against the machine as all good virgos do, jisung is- how do i put this? jisung’s really fucking smart, in the way only virgos (and scorpios!) ever are. like okay, no lie. the kid’s this close to being a genius. whenever they play games based in deceit or lying, jisung can play them under the table. remember when i said jisung’s got an emotional intelligence that’s off the charts? this is an example of that. he knows his teammates better than they know themselves because he spends every waking hour of his day paying attention to them. i’ve noticed this with most of the “mood-makers” in kpop. their role is to keep the pulse of the group up and racing, and that means they need to know how each one of their teammates is feeling, regardless of whether he’s hiding it or not. jisung needs to have his teammates’ tells so thoroughly intuited that he can read them from the other end of a stage during a black-out between performances. that’s his job. so of course he’s a virgo, because he needs that virgo intuition and logic, the ability to fill in the gaps on the heel of a dime. to know in the hair’s width of time before the commercial break ends and they’re back on the air, if jisung needs to draw the spotlight because hyunjin’s feeling a little bit ganged up on by the hosts or chan’s voice is starting to give a little. to smooth out the edges, hide their rough edges under a veil. because that’s what he does, and that’s what he’ll always do. cover for his teammates. hold them up the only way he knows how. 
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they make a pretty formidable trio, don’t you think? between seungmin’s brutal honesty, yongbok’s stubbornness, and jisung’s wit, i imagine the three of them get what they want. that’s how virgos are. they expect more and they expect better and they do not take shit from anyone. if a virgo thinks that they’re right, there is a zero percent chance that you will get your way. it will save everyone involved time, energy, and effort to give in and acquiesce. otherwise, you’re facing an uphill battle that you will not win. not with one virgo, and certainly not with three. i honestly pity the rest of stray kids. no one does stubborn quite like an earth sign. 
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they are also, quite bluntly, essential to the team. stray kids are eight pieces of one whole, and the virgo line take up a pretty considerable fraction of that whole. without their support, be it through seungmin’s fierce and brambled comfort, yongbok’s soft and humble warmth, or jisung’s quick-thinking, stray kids would implode. there’s a reason there are earth signs in every kpop group—they’re the ones with their shit together. they’re the ones that keep everyone else’s shit together, either through nagging or just brute force. they are the grounding weight, the support net. smart, sharp, ever-aware, to show up on top of their game. stray kids’ virgos are nonstop. they’ll keep it together, keep their team together, if it fucking kills them. 
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you know how it is. different circus, same clowns. - @hexglyphs 
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