#he's headed to [redacted] the anticipation wow

[jmdbjk]

*BARKS* (oops sorry)

He brought the hammer down.

As Yoongi said once: "Have you forgotten what I do for a living?"

We're sorry, Jimin... so, so sorry... we didn't mean to doubt... we might need to be reminded daily so feel free to whip one of these out more often.

Their friendship though, I love seeing it. I don't know a lot about Taemin but he's very talented. He looks yummy in this vid. I have a weakness for long dark hair (missing Yoongi's long hair, Jungkook's long hair... )

Jimin is coming to claim what is his...

[literaila]

How would gojo propose? Would he be serious or would he lock in and ask 👁️👁️

there is not one single proposal. oh no.

it’s starts off fairly simple—

“you have to fold it at an angle so that it doesn’t bunch up when you—“ you glance at satoru out of the side of your eye, sighing. “are you even listening to me, satoru?”

“marry me.”

and you drop the sheet in your hands. you turn to him, eyes as wide as can be. “excuse me?”

“marry me?” he’s smiling at you, leaning down so that you’re eye to eye. “please?”

you blink at him. staring for just a moment. the laugh that falls out of your mouth next is nothing short of bewildered, disbelieving. “i can’t—“ you scoff, returning to your sheet which satoru is supposed to be learning how to fold. “no, thank you.”

he pouts. “no? why not?”

you laugh again, kissing his cheek. “nice try, baby.”

and then he stands there with his arms crossed, just staring at you for almost an hour.

or maybe it’s date night and you’re just walking down the street, and satoru points out a lantern that’s bouncing colors off of the wall, a rainbow of light on both of your faces.

and you’re walking arm in arm, just looking at each other.

“marry me,” satoru whispers, his voice lithe and warm, something tangible.

you’re already smiling at him, so you don’t stop. “are you flirting with me?”

“c’mon, just one little marriage. i’ll even buy you a cake. and a ring.”

“wow. that’s a temping offer.”

“marry me?” he repeats, stopping you so that you’re just looking at him.

looking at the light in his eyes, and the colors on his face, turning his skin all sorts of magic.

“i’m think i’m going to pass.”

he groans, almost falling into you. “why not?”

“that’s just too easy, satoru,” you say, kissing his cheek, and then you drag him along as you resume your walk.

the colors fade, and so does satoru’s dejection. your smile is too contagious for him to keep up the act for long.

but then it molds into something else—far more desperate.

you’ll just be opening the fridge, looking inside.

“did tsumiki already pack her lunch?” you’ll ask him.

and satoru will nod. “yes. marry me.”

you just roll your eyes, shutting the door.

or you’ll be in the shower and satoru knocks on the door, peeking a head in. “what time will you be ready?” he asks.

“half an hour?”

“okay…” there’s a pause.

“satoru?” you ask, when you don’t hear the door shut.

“marry me?”

you scoff. “go check on megumi.”

or you’ll be in the store and satoru will put another carton of ice cream in the cart, which you scold him for.

“put it back.”

“only if you marry me.”

“i want you to redact that sentence in the next three seconds—“

or you’ll be exorcising a curse, just finishing up, still panting when you get a phone call. “satoru?”

“marry me.”

“do you actually need something? i’m kind of busy.”

“yes. marry me.”

“i’m hanging up.”

and this goes on for months. it will spread into a year, and at some point you stop feeling guilty for rejecting him every time, and satoru stops looking sad each time you do.

it’s like a habit, some weird tradition the two of you have. you come to anticipate it. appreciate it for what it is—easy, something ridiculous.

megumi personally hates it. “she already said no,” he’ll grunt at satoru, passing him through the door. “just get over it.”

tsumiki just sits there, waiting expectantly every time like the answer will be different. but it never is.

and then there’s one day. you’re both at jujutsu high, both working, and satoru just happens to be sitting on the steps of the entrance.

it’s been a long day for him. maybe something happened with one of his students, or maybe yaga said something just to get under his skin.

or maybe it’s just one of those days—the ones where memories cling to his skin like dirt.

it’s hard being here, sometimes.

and you’ve been looking for him for twenty minutes (because you always have lunch together) when you finally find him.

“hey,” you say, hand going to his shoulder as you approach. satoru doesn’t flinch because he heard you coming. “not hungry?”

he just shakes his head.

and there’s something about him, sitting there with his legs spread out, chin resting on a hand, staring off into the distance like he’ll never be able to see far enough.

he looks like a boy, for just a moment. a boy you used to know well—a boy you fell in love with, almost a decade ago, now.

and you smile, but only a little. because it’s always been easy to be here with him, even when he’s this quiet, and even when his eyes are this haunted shade.

so you’ll sit there, sipping on some tea you brought out—a soda you brought satoru sitting between the two of you.

your thighs are just barely touching, hands inches away from each other. you could cozy up to him, remind him that everything is okay—somehow. but you won’t.

sometimes you just have to sit with it.

but eventually, you’ll start to get goosebumps for sitting outside for too long, and you can hear satoru sniffing as his nose runs.

so you sigh, looking to him. “satoru,” you whisper, voice lilted like you have a secret to share.

he looks over, face mercifully blank. “hmm?”

“will you marry me?”

and then satoru’s face stills. the air is calm, the wind shifting, and he turns right towards you.

it takes a couple of seconds, but his face is like the flash of a camera, sullen one moment, and lively the next.

his incoming smile is almost intoxicating.

“really?” he asks, almost breathless.

you laugh, moving over to him, finally wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your cold face into his neck. “next time you ask,” you tell him, “you better make it count.”

and satoru only smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

“okay,” he says.

[jcfoxington]

@sambambucky​ : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)

hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done

this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !

i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about 

here’s some note snippets just for you:

the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats

bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)

starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together

he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily

for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them. 

here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):

and here’s a snippet:

The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself. 

There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?

marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds

the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds

which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now

however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend

warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for

the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet

ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:

sword grandmas

that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’

anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman

superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping

dishevelled swamp witch

that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed

an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)

ask me about my WIPs!

BONUS:

@sambambucky​​ : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go

couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!

the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust

outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick

here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:

and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous Team and the Batboys

Longer update, wrote the ao3 version first this time. if you want to find me there, crazyjc.

--

Thankfully there weren’t any akuma attacks that day or that night. Marinette was glad to get some sleep for once. Her body, confused and used to a few hours a night, got her up early.

Marinette decided to help with the morning rush—quick to handle the register and make adjustments to some people’s orders (no extra charge for the exhausted high school and college students) when she managed to find someone as dead as she was after an akuma messed up her commission schedule and sleep was skipped for a week.

“Wow, you’re getting the ‘Please Don’t Let Me Die Again Yet’ special.” Marinette turned before the zombie could speak. “Maman, watch the register, someone looks worse than midterms and commissions me.”

Once Maman took the register again, Marinette worked on her disaster drink that only a few particular customers knew of from her personal menu--mainly the dead college and high school students insane enough to pull a weeks worth of all nighters like her. And baby parents that liked her parents bakery.

Gurarana beans instead for the extra caffeine with her special blend of licorice root, peppermint and green tea poured in--double the caffeine with less effort, glucose for the brain fuel, sweet and mint for wakeup and focus, and green tea for lasting energy boost.

“Here, this should keep you up and a bit more functional than usual.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, what got Finals Angel up this early?” One of the regulars almost yelled, staring at her with a look that screamed the universe was going to collapse in on itself, and they were now anticipating this outcome until they got their morning fix.

Marinette shrugged, moving to the next customer as the dead man took a seat and pulled out his laptop. She continued to help until it was getting close to class.

“Maman, the rest of that brew is under the cabinet for the laptop zombie, I’m taking my morning delivery now.”

Maman took over while Marinette made her way to school, passing out the usual deliveries as she moved about.

“Adrien, your insult to caffeinated monstrosities everywhere.”

“Thanks Marinette!” The blond held his (essentially) hot chocolate with one pump expresso, and five three shots of caramel on top of whip cream.

“Chloe, why you have me grab something this sweet this early is only further proof of your crimes against humanity.”

“You’re welcome Dupain-Cheng.” The girl nabbed her (in Marinette's opinion) low caffeine sugar water--licorice root with half a bottle of honey, and lots of ice with whip cream and honesy drizzled on top. She would never understand that order, but was too afraid to ask at this point. She might be taking the Bee thing too far.

“Alya, thank you for being a sane coffee person, Nino, we are having a talk about your scheduling.”

“Thanks gurl." Because close or not, Alya was an addict with a simple and reasonable coffee that restored Marinette's sanity while making it.

Nino groaned as he took his pastries and three cream, one expresso. “Not again, I still haven’t recovered from the last time.”

Marinette shrugged. “Your mistake, not mine.”

“Oh, did you get my cookies?” Sabrina asked.

Marinette rolled her eyes with a fond smile. She likes Sabrina when she isn't in full cling mode, and giving her boxes of pre-paid cookies put together on Marinette's whims? Very calming after dealing with Adrien and Chloe's offending orders. “Yes. You paid for a different set everyday.”

“Thanks!” Sabina examined her current mix, more obscure cookies since Marinette got them before the morning rush.

“Markov, please tell me Max got some sleep last night?” Marinette asked as she handed another of her special “Max needs a nap but is to stubborn to” order--which is essentially an energy drink blend with a few slow-release teas mixed in.

“Affirmative. He got the requested minimum of three hours. I will ensure he gets more once school is out.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He was less prone to akumatazation with more sleep, and Hawkmoth does like using Max. Marinette likes knowing she can have her teammate in the field without wondering if he'll pass out.

Marinette took her seat by Alya. They weren’t as close anymore, but it did mean Lila was alone in the back and didn’t see the group document.

“Class, we have a new student today!”

Marinette frowned. She wasn’t informed of any newcomers. She looked over at Chloe who huffed. She didn’t know either then.

“Class, this is Damian Grayson from America. His father is here on business and will be joining us for the semester!”

Chloe and her shared a look. With Chloe as the current president and Marinette as the head of the welcome committee, this was very last minute for them not to be informed. Especially as Bustier had the time to since both were here early.

Alya shot her a look.

Marinette shook her head. She really didn’t know, and it bugged her.

Alya narrowed her eyes as the new boy came in. Black hair, stood too straight and Middle Eastern. She wondered what his first language was briefly--someone in school was bound to be fairly fluent. If it was related to Arabic, Rose would be a good translator. Her and Adrien both have Mandarin now, and her English was passable to Americans--not so much for the UK. Alya has Spanish while Nino has Portuguese covered. Chloe was good for UK English and so was Adrien, but those two weren't good for new kids... especially from the America. Mylene, Ivan, Nathaniel and Juleka were bad at talking most of the time, so they were no-gos...

And she still had to finish Ali's commission… This would be a headache if they were an old Chloe-type.

“Damian, why don’t you tell us about yourself.”

“No need to. I do not plan on making friends.”

And he was worse than an Old Chloe-type. There went her free period for commissions.

The entire class shared a look, and Marinette wanted to groan. This boy would be in for a rude awakening—there was no escaping friendship in Bustier’s class. And anyone difficult? They would sent Marinette as envoy--hopefully Alya didn't make easy.

“I presume my seat is in the back?”

“Actually,” Alya stood up with a grin, “I was going to sit back with Lila to help her catch up in our next class.”

Marinette froze as she realized what Alya was doing. Keeping the new kid from Lila was good, but she also needed to keep Alya from falling for Lila’s lies again. And she has no clue on his preferred languages and uh!

“Alya,” she hissed.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” Alya moved to the back with ease before the boy could say a word.

Marinette hit her head. Why was her friend like this?

“I guess that means you’ll sit next to Marinette. Marinette, can you show Damian around during your free period?”

Marinette knew that tone. There was no refusing without a lecture on being a good role model and another reprimand for stepping down from class representative and student government when she got more commissions and needed more time.

“Of course Miss Buster.”

Damian took his seat without saying a word.

Marinette decided it was better to stay silent with this one--he didn't want friends, and would only be here briefly. She could respect that, even if she could feel the others scheming otherwise.

“What do you mean you know—“

“Oops,” Lila grinned. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

And that was what Marinette was hoping to avoid.

Damian twitched next to her. Marinette sighed, “One sec, I need to remind someone to check her sources before getting ahead of themselves… again.”

Nino shot Marinette a sympathetic look while Marinette linked three redacted articles that starred Lila as her main source.

“And done.”

Damian raised an eye brow at her. “You aren’t going to pester me, correct?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly? “You made your stance clear. I’m here as the actual head of the welcoming committee, and during free period I’ll just need to know your interests so we can avoid the parts of the school that aren’t relevant for you, and to make sure you have an idea how to handle akuma attacks since I’m going to guess they didn’t tell you about that before you applied.”

“tt,” Damian leveled her with a scowl. “Of course I know about them.”

Marinette didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “So you know where to go for shelter, the drills, the apps and news sources that are good for tracking, which hospitals are contactable during attacks and which ones go into lock down, oh and what actions are allowable and not as civilian aides to the miraculous team?”

The boy froze before her. He didn't then.

Her face slid into a more neutral one--keeping her gloating to herself.“That’s what I thought. I have a few flow charts in the committee room to grab since its an info dump and no one processes those well, and your learning style may benefit from it for all I know.” Marinette made sure not add ‘since some people can’t be bothered to tell me.’ The new boy clearly wasn’t interested in friendship, and despite what the class thinks, she is not friendship-nip.

“I…”

“Class, turn to page 67 of your textbook. Marinette, make sure to share with Damian.”

“Yes Miss Bustier,” Marinette moved the book between the two of them, ignoring Damian besides checking where his eyes were on the page before turning as they followed along.

Once their free period began, Adrien had a Chloe guarding him against the Lila octopus, with Sabrina flanking his other arm as backup.

“I take it those three are together?” Damian asked once they left.

“No, Chloe doesn’t share her friends well,” Marinette explained as they moved through the halls. “And it keeps away his fans, so no one stops it anymore.” Not unless they wanted the Mayor’s ire at least. It was very effective against Lila.

“I see…” He was watching her. She wasn’t sure if it was an American thing or just a tic of his. Possibly both.

“That’s where the teacher’s offices are for before and after school,” Marinette gestured to one wing. “All the doors are labeled, so its easy enough to find who you’re looking for as long as you have a name. You’ll find most of the school services there as well, minus the nurse who’s room is closer to the quad.”

Marinette smiled when they got to welcoming committee room. None of the other members were there at the moment, but the file cabinet was. She grabbed one of the ready-made packets and grabbed a spare Bustier Class packet too.

“Here’s the information for being new in Paris, everything from common places to eat, the good hole-in-the-wall places itemized by what you’re looking for, everything relating to akumas is on the red papers, and the yellow is the school’s map and procedures.” Marinette handed him the blue folder, then the orange. “This one is the Bustier-class specific one approved by Miss Bustier. It lists everything from class rules, what caused various akumatazations with the victim’s consent to disclose it, so not all are listed, and it has your schedule and the class outing dates plus who’s interested in what on the pink pages for possible friends, but you said you weren’t interested so we can skip that.”

Marinette watched him look over the papers for a moment, waiting until his attention was back to her. “Now, anything you have a vague interest in that you might have some random inclination to do at Dupont during your free periods, before or after school?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her.

“Its you let me tailor the tour for you, or you have to go all over the school and talk to me the entire time, when we both know you’re really not interested.”

“Tt.”

Marinette shrugged. “Have it your way, now, on with the tour!”

--

Damian gawked at the core ciruculum including what he knew was more college level than high school level. Then there was the fact these students had access to multiple state of the art facilities tailored to current students interests on campus, with little issue getting them apparently.

“How does your school get all of this?”

The pigtail girl almost laughed at his question. “I guess they just sent you here since we have the most flexible curriculum routines then.” The girl shifted how she stood. “Dupont is an experimental school, everyone is given high expectations on entry but as long as you keep up with grades the school gets whatever any student requests—a few years ago we had one kid that was allowed to do rocket science as part of his program, he went to some German facility with a translator every other day. Alix has a blanket permit to do street art and installations on public property, as long as she gets her design approved and can give them her schedule as long as she helps other student with history classes. I get full access to any designing materials as part of my deal with the school in exchange for doing any school event costumes and tailoring jobs that I get a two week notice on.”

Damian nodded along, processing this new information. Suddenly, the high amount of akumas from graduates and current students of Dupont made sense. They were specialists, extremely skilled at their crafts and more likely to be knowledgeable than the general population on a variety of topics.

--

Marinette was glad for their hour-long lunch. “I’d ask if you wanted someone to eat with you, but you look like you need some time to process. I’ll check in before school ends.”

She ran home, noting that the man from that morning was still there but looked much less like he would keel over sometime soon. She knew that brew would help. She grabbed a croissant and ran upstairs to finish Prince Ali’s latest commission—a variant on his usual princely attire that was more maneuverable but still formal enough that no one would notice when he wore that one instead of the traditional one.

She had a feeling he was going to use it to sneak away from his guards.

She set an alarm and got to work.

She was quick to leave once the alarm sounded—she gave herself an extra five minutes this time.

“Hey, you’re the coffee angel, right?”

Marinette turned to see the man from that morning, now much more alive.

“I guess.” Marinette knew not to give out names to customers unless her parents deemed them not-stalker-y.

“Thanks, that thing actually worked. What’s in it?”

Marinette smiled at that. “Sorry, that’s a secret not even Maman and Papa get to know.”

“Huh,” the man processed her words. “Guess I’ll have to keep coming when I’m low then.”

Marinette nodded. “Guess so, good to see you’re no longer a zombie monsieur!”

She ran off at that, not sure what to think of them yet, other than if they needed that drink regularly, they might be worse than her. And she has heroing as an excuse. He doesn’t.

--

Holy shit was not expecting this response.

Thank you all so much, was not expecting this much positive response and i think my brain broke a bit, in the good way.

So, we have a new fan to Marinette's secret menu, and a Damian slowly realizing why the school is targetted who is also going with the 'I don't do friends' thing, again.

leaving this one as a poll: Damian calls out Lila by the end of the day for how Marinette and him end up as friends, or he puts together Marinette is doing a lot for the class by the end of the day and wants to figure out why, especially after reading the Ladyblog during lunch, or any other ideas.

Any ideas on how Marinette meets Dick and Jason for when she meets the next round of Batboys?

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron

[lifeaftermeteor]

Private Island [location redacted] Fiji, South Pacific 18 August 211 

Relena stood before the mirror as her mother secured the string of pearls around her neck. 

As Mareen stepped away with an appreciative hum, Relena took a moment to study her reflection. Her honey blond hair had been twisted into soft curls and then pinned up to prevent the sea breeze catching them. Her dress was short and only came to her knees, layered with tulle and lace. Her shoes were simple but stylish, fitting for their private event and a day at the beach. She smiled and turned to face her entourage, placing her hands on her hips and striking a pose. “What do you think?” 

Amidst the unanimous approval, there was a knock at the door.  “Come in,” Relena answered, smoothing her hands down the dress.   

At the entreaty, Heero stepped into the room but stopped short, eyes wide at the sight of her. “Wow,” he managed, but didn’t move from where he stood. 

“Come in, Heero,” Mareen told him, and Heero—seemingly embarrassed, judging by the pinched look on his face—quickly shut the door as instructed. 

He took a few hesitant steps forward and opened his mouth to say something...but nothing came and so he snapped it shut once more. Relena watched the muscles in his jaw twitch a moment longer before she closed the distance that separated them. Only then did she register the glass bottle clutched in one of his hands. She smiled at it and took his free hand in hers.  

“You’re beautiful,” he said, voice soft, almost reverent.  

Relena bit her lip and smiled as she felt her cheeks start to burn. “Thank you,” she said and gave his hand a squeeze.  

They studied each other for a time, both of them wound up with emotions they couldn’t name. But then Heero took a shuddering breath and seemed to gather his composure once more. “For you,” he said, passing her the bottle. 

Relena took it with a soft laugh and opened it, unfurling the message. 

---

Ich liebe dich

W

---

She read the words [1] and felt herself tearing up. Sniffling, she crossed to a nearby chair and sat down, taking several deep breaths amidst the concerned queries from her friends and family around her. They were getting married. He loved her. He loved her and they were getting married...today.  Relena looked up to find Heero’s blue eyes looking a bit tearful as well. “I love him,” she told him, “so much.” 

Heero replied, “I know. So does he.” 

Relena nodded and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to calm herself while the others waited quietly. She was thankful for it. She didn’t think she would be able to keep herself together if they had swarmed her with their love and assurances. Taking a deep breath, she dabbed carefully at her eyes and twisted open the pen. “Sally, Heero.  I’m going to need help with the reply.” 

***** 

Wufei glanced up as the door to their de facto dressing room opened and Heero entered, shutting it behind him and holding the glass bottle aloft. “You were gone longer than I thought you’d be. Sorry about that.” 

“No, that was on me,” Heero said, shaking his head. “Mostly.” 

“‘Mostly?’” Wufei asked, an eyebrow quirking at his runner as he approached. 

Heero gave him a secretive smile as he passed Wufei the bottle. “You’ll see soon enough.”  

Wufei watched him with wary eyes as Heero turned away and walked across the room. He took a seat near Trowa who was going over the final technical checks of his camera while Quatre hovered at his shoulder watching the process unfold. 

Left to his own devices for a time, Wufei uncorked the bottle and unspooled the note. Relena had responded to his earlier sentiment in kind. [2]

---

我爱你

R

---

They were the tentative strokes of a novice and yet Wufei couldn’t tear his eyes away, warmth spreading through his chest and into his cheeks.  She loves me, he thought, overcome. 

From behind, thin arms wrapped around his waist and a pointed chin rested on his shoulder. Wufei’s grin widened.  “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Duo echoed, clearly reading the note too.   

“She writes like you,” Wufei teased, trying to stave off the tears that pricked at the back of his eyes. 

Duo snorted.  “No awards for penmanship,” he said, giving Wufei a squeeze before withdrawing. 

***** 

The group had assembled on the first floor balcony, which overlooked the plantation gardens below. Chairs had been brought outside from the house and adorned with flowers from the landscape that surrounded them, lined up in short rows to form a makeshift aisle that led to the porch railing. The wedding party had all foregone color-coded attire, but Wufei’s entourage had dressed sharply in vests and slacks all the same.  

At the end of the short aisle that connected the house to the bannister, Wufei fidgeted and Duo smirked from where he stood beside him. The moment before the moment of truth was always infinitely more painful. And Wufei was never really one for patience. 

Duo let his eyes wander to the other guests while seconds ticked by. Trowa flitted about, snapping photos while Quatre had tucked himself in securely at Heero’s side. Hilde meanwhile was chatting amicably with Sally and Une. Mareen and Noin were presumably just inside with the bride. He smiled again and tightened his grip on the materials in his arms as a stray breeze swept across the balcony. 

As it died down once more, the double doors that led back into the house opened and Relena stepped outside into the warm afternoon sun. Dress soft and delicate, smile wide, she was a sight to see. To his left, Wufei expelled a shuddering breath and Duo chanced a glance his way. The man was starstruck, cheeks flushed and eyes tearful and Relena approached down the aisle, a small bouquet of flowers clutched in her hands.  She had eyes only for her fiance. Duo grinned.  “Hold it together,” he hissed at Wufei, whose only visible reaction was to snap his mouth shut.  

A small eternity swept up the aisle with Relena as she walked, and yet time seemed to rush up to them like a tidal surge. What had been ‘future’ was suddenly ‘now’ and as Wufei took Relena’s hand in his, bringing her up beside him, Duo swallowed down the familiar taste of panic.  

Instead, he grinned through it and snuffed it out before it could take him.  He smiled wide and welcoming as the two lovebirds struggled to remember that there was in fact a ceremony to be had. Duo took that as his cue to begin.  “I don’t think I have to tell anyone why we’re here today, so we’ll skip that part of this morning’s daily briefing if that’s alright with you.”  The comment earned knowing chuckles from the guests and good natured eye rolls from the couple before him. 

“I will say, however, that out of everyone here to share today with you, I’m the lucky one who actually gets to marry you. That’s a high honor coming from you both—one I didn’t anticipate—so thank you, for your trust.  

“Thank you also for adding a new qualification to my resume, since I did have to get certified for this in order for it to be legal under ESUN law, after all. I took this task very seriously. I even studied! I studied harder for this than I think I ever have before,” he said and finally righted the materials he had till now clutched to his chest, revealing a stack of books. They were dog-eared with colored page markers sticking out in every conceivable direction, and included a menagerie of materials. Half a dozen religious texts intermingled with the likes of Sun Tzu, Karl Marx, and Plato.  

Incredulous laughter at the collection burst first between the couple and then outward across the guests to others. As their mirth simmered down once more, Duo said in all seriousness, “But when have any of us ever played by the book?”  In the expectant silence that followed his question, he looked first at Relena, then at Wufei….and after a beat, chucked the books over his shoulder and the balcony railing behind him to fall with much commotion into the underbrush below. 

Dusting his hands off, he settled his gaze once again at the couple before him. “So here’s the real deal…” 

***** 

“That was an excellent speech. I thought for sure Wufei would cry before he even got to his vows,” Sally said, sipping champagne as she watched the newlyweds slow dance on the stone patio in the garden, lost in their own world. 

“It was an excellent speech,” Mareen agreed. She turned to Heero then and gently probed. “Relena tells me you’re a writer.  So...be honest.  How much of the ceremony was Duo and how much did you help with?” 

Heero shook his head. “That was all Duo.”  He took a sip of his own drink and added, “He wrote four different versions. Ended up delivering a fifth.” He squinted into the empty space before him, thinking. “I’m beginning to wonder why his creative process requires such levels of improvisation.” 

Trowa chuckled where he loitered nearby. “Don’t know what you need till you get there,” he answered, hefting his camera and aiming it in their direction. “Smile you three. But not in a fake way,” he instructed, snapping the shutter closed a second later. 

***** 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d make it,” Quatre said as he took a seat on one of the garden benches next to Duo.  

Duo huffed a dry laugh. “I could say the same about you,” he said, throwing back the rest of the contents of his glass before leveling Quatre with a face that spoke to his concern. “You looked a little peaked earlier. You alright?” 

Quatre nodded with a sigh. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…” He waved his hand before him, non-committal and aimless. 

Duo watched the gesture for a bit before suggesting, “The miasma?”  

When Quatre looked his way again, he found Duo biting his lip between his teeth in a poor attempt not to laugh.  Quatre smirked. “Yes, let’s go with that.”  This did earn him a laugh from Duo and he felt the man’s tension subside somewhat. Quatre smiled. 

***** 

Noin stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and sighed, her cheeks puffing out as she did so. She had fled back into the house when she felt the tears coming and was thankful for the reprieve. And angry that she had cried at all. The one saving grace was that the light outside had finally faded with sunset and was now too dim for any of the guests to notice. 

She would not let them know. This was their day and she wouldn’t allow herself to be the source of bitterness, especially not when there was nothing any of them could do.  

Noin sighed again, her red eyes staring back at her through the mirror. She wouldn’t let them know how much it hurt...to not have a happily ever after of her own. 

***** 

Merriment made the hours bleed lazily into the evening, the wedding party surrounded by laughter and music. Food and drink and good company. But after a time the furtive glances Relena had shared with her husband were no longer scratching the growing itch.  Taking his hand in hers, she passed a look to her mother—who only smirked in acknowledgement—and fled their reception for a more...personal celebration. 

She pointedly ignored the cat calls that followed at their heels and whisked her husband off to their bedroom. 

[1] Ich liebe dich, “I love you” in German. In LAM!verse, Sanq speaks a German dialect.

[2] 我爱你 (wǒ ài nǐ), “I love you” in Mandarin

[writing-my-way-to-hell]

ANGEL AU

Part 1

Just this idea that came to me as if I didn't have enough WIP on my plate already.

Be kind is my first post.

Angels live among humans and lead normal lives, but all of them are destined to something great, a mission that will change their lives. The moment Peter sees Tony, he knows his mission is to help the tortured man and he won't take no for an answer.

Starker. Angel!Peter. Human!Tony. PostCACW.

___

Tony is tired, so tired. He just came out of the longest meeting of his life and he wants nothing more than to go back to his tower, straight to the lab and lose himself in one of his projects. 

He crosses the street heading for his audi and taking in his surroundings just enough to avoid being hit by a passing car. 

New York's weather is downright freezing this time of the year and he can feel it chilling him to the bones. He fastens the scarf around his neck quickening his pace. Dark clouds obscure the sun and he can't help thinking that the weather perfectly reflects his current mood. 

On his way to the car he bumps into someone, he mumbles a quick 'sorry' and ducks his head not wanting to be recognized. As he passes the stranger though he notices something, wings, he's just bumped into an angel, he stops for a moment, baffled, then turns around but he only manages to catch a glimpse of the stranger disappearing behind a corner. 

Duh. He has not seen an angel outside of government functions and marketing deals for years now.It's stupid, he knows that angels live amongst humans and there is nothing strange about meeting one on the streets. To be fair it's not like he goes out a lot these days. 

He comes out of his stupor at the sound of a clacson and quickly dives for his car. 

Once inside his penthouse he makes a beeline for his lab asking Friday to not let anyone disturb him. That's how he spends the night, and the days after, his robots and a bottle of scotch his only company, working until exhaustion claims him and he just can't go on anymore. 

*** 

Tony is sitting at his kitchen counter, nursing a strong black coffee in his right hand as he scrolls some legal documents on his Stark-pad when he hears a sudden clicking sound. 

Pepper's heels. She comes into the kitchen and takes him in. He knows he looks like a mess, from his pale skin to the dark bags under his eyes, fatigue and weariness heavy on his shoulders, he cannot find the strength to care. 

"Tony" her steely eyes softens, her voice is soft like honey "Tony, hey. You've been closed in that lab for days and you didn't answer our calls. Rhodey and I were starting to get worried, that can't be healthy for you" her eyes following the trail of empty bottles of scotch leading to the sink. 

He lets out a hoarse laugh but immediately stops after a look at her face. She is genuinely worried for him and nowadays is hard to find someone that cares. He's already managed to fuck everything up when it came to their relationship, he doesn't want to alienate her from his life too. 

He doesn't know if he could survive that. 

"Yeah I know, sorry. Had this really important project…" he lies "Anyway, is there another reason you're here other than to check up if I'm still alive and kicking?" his tone a bit harsher than intended. 

"Tony" she scolds him "Well… there is one actually" he waits for her to continue. 

She takes a deep breath mostly to calm herself

"You know how everyone is fighting each other about whether the rogue avengers should be hunted down or allowed back?" he nods slightly, dread suddenly pooling in his stomach. Wherever this conversation is going, he is not going to like it. 

"Well, it looks like people want the avengers back together. They don't feel safe with everything that has been going on recently and… oh alright, there are rumors going around about them getting pardoned if they agree to sign the redacted version of the accords you are working on with Ross" before he could react she continued "It's just rumors for now, but well I thought it best to warn you, you know, just in case…" she trailed off. 

Tony took a bit to let the informations sink in, if the public was leaning in the rogues' favor there was a really good chance of them getting pardoned and then- and then what? Pepper said people wanted the avengers back together but could things really go back to what they used to be? Could he put  his trust again in the people he had come to consider a family only for them to stab him in the back? 

He closed his hand in a tight fist hoping Pepper missed the slight tremble. An headache starts blooming at his temples. 

"Yeah, okay, alright, thanks for coming to tell me. I-" he didn't want to be rude but the room was starting to feel suffocating "I think I'm going out, clear my mind a bit. Help yourself some coffee if you want. See you later." 

Tony quickly grabbed a dark jacket and a pair of obscured glassed. Phone and wallet ready he slipped into the elevator, Friday directing him to the service door in the back to leave without being noticed. 

For a bit the fresh air of the morning really managed to make him feel better. Now craving the cup of coffee he had left unfinished on his counter he sets out to find the nearest coffee shop. 

He finds a nice one not too crowded and decides to get in, once it's his turn to order he takes off his glasses and enjoys messing a bit with the cashier. 

"I'll have a black coffee , super strong and keep the change" he says handing the befuddled man a fifty. 

He lets out a quiet laugh as the star-struck man snaps out of his stupor and stumbles around to prepare his order. 

Once he is done, fuming drink in one hand he turns around and the unexpected happens. 

His eyes meet the most beautiful pair of eyes he's ever seen. He studies the owner of those eyes, a young boy looking not older than eighteen, soft looking curls frame his delicate face. His skin is milky white making his amber doe eyes stand out even more. But what catches Tony's attention are the two majestic wings attached to the boy's back. They are as pure as wings can get, white with silver reflections, the feathers all neatly ordered and soft looking. Tony wonders briefly what they would feel like at the touch. 

The boy doesn't move, his head is tipped slightly to the left, eyes wide open making him look like a confused puppy. 

"Are you okay?" Tony is not sure what is happening, the other people in the shop have stopped their actions, trying to understand the sudden tension in the air. 

"Hey, kid. Is everything okay?" Tony repeats as the angel has yet to move. His stillness is starting to unnerve him. 

Suddenly his wings start to flutter nervously, as if itching to open to their full length. 

"Are you feeling alr-" Tony interrupts himself as the boy starts walking in his direction. The other customers now completely silent in anticipation. 

The engineer is about to take a step back when the young man unexpectedly reaches out with his right hand. 

It stops just above Tony's chests, then breaks the distance and lands just above his heart. 

The billionaire is startled by the intimate contact but does not move back. 

When the boy speaks his voice is like the softest silk on his ears but at the same time he sounds on the brink of tears "Let me take some of your pain" he says. Those beautiful eyes now look sad, pained. 

His wings finally give in to the instincts and spread wide open before engulfing around Tony, shielding them from view. 

Tony cannot believe what is happening, he has heard stories about this but he just labeled them as myths and nonsense. 

***

A sudden memory comes back to his mind, his mother calm smile, her hand stroking his hair, his younger version chanting "Again! Again!",his mother laugh. 

"Okay little rascal,just fit under the blankets and I'll tell you the story."  Five years old Tony quickly obeys. 

"The legend says that many years ago, Angels looked after humanity from their place in the sky, doing anything in their power to take care of us" 

"And then?! What happened after, mum?" 

"Hush baby, I'm telling you. They saw how bad people were at caring for each other though and decided that acting from a distance was not enough anymore, they went against God's wishes and descended on earth, because they cared about humans too much. 

A magnificent army of angelic beings with shining wings and golden hearts came here on earth to look after us"

"Wow" little Tony's eyes shine in wonder. 

"Yeah, wow. They spent years teaching humans how to make good choices and be kind to each other, but when eventually the time to go back came, they found out that going against God's wishes brought unexpected consequences, they could not return to the skies anymore."

"No!" Tony didn't want the Angels to suffer, they only wanted to help! "But they tried to help us! That's not fair!" he said mustering as much indignation as a five years old child was capable of. 

"Well yes, it is a bit unfair Munchkin, but everything happens for a reason, you know? 

The angels eventually started living among humans and that's why today you'll see them sometimes, like that kid you met at school the other day, remember?" 

"Yes! I knew he was an angel, but I didn't know all this story!" 

"Well now you do baby, and I'll tell you something more. Every Angel has a mission in the world. They don't know what it is, but they recognize their mission when it presents. It could be helping someone or saving somebody. Maybe they will discover a cure for some illness that will save millions of lives! Nobody knows for sure but the one thing certain is that once they see their mission, they recognize it and then they'll do anything in they power to complete it."

"Do you know any angels that completed a mission?" 

"No baby I don't. But I'll tell you how to recognize them. Once an angel accepts his mission their wings start slowly turning gold. I hope one day you see an angel with golden wings baby, they are said to be the most beautiful things in the world." 

***

Tony thinks back to what the stranger said, "Let me take some of your pain" he nods slowly, almost in a trance. 

The angel boy leans forward until his forehead is in contact with Tony's heart. A single tear slides from the corner of his left eye as he absorbs some of the genius pain. For a moment he feels lighter, happy almost, he feels safe embraced by the feathers as if nothing in the world could hurt him. He wishes that moment could last forever. 

But it doesn't . The moment breaks. The boy retreats, his wings fold back, he wipes the tear away and smiles. 

Tony is so shocked he doesn't even know what to say. 

The other patrons in the shop are still silent, appalled by the magnitude of the event they have just witnessed. 

"I- I- don't…"  Tony's voice fades, but the boy only smiles harder. 

"Hi, my name his Peter" 

And what a beautiful name for such a beautiful creature. 

" Tony" he almost murmurs but the boy hears him. 

"Hello Tony, it's nice to finally meet you" and the following smile brightens up the whole space. 

Tony is still baffled by the whole ordeal but he knows one thing for sure as he catches a glimpse of gold on Peter's right wing. A golden feather. 

The boy has accepted his mission. 

His mission is Tony. 

Oh boy, he had just wanted a coffee.

___

If you like the premise I'll write a part 2