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justsomeclintasha · 3 years ago

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“Thanks for going on a run with me, Nat.”

“Not sure if it counts as going with you when I can’t keep the same pace.”

“There’s not many people that could. But it was nice to have someone to get smoothies with after.”

Clint looks up as Natasha and Steve walk in the kitchen, both sporting identical Captain America baseball caps. She sips from her nearly empty cup. Steve tosses his in the trash.

“I desperately need a shower. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

He leaves, and Natasha grabs a piece of leftover toast from Clint’s plate.

“So uh, what’s with the hats?”

“Captain America! He’s my favorite avenger.”

“I’m an avenger!”

Natasha just laughs, leaning down to kiss his cheek before disappearing down the hallway.

XXXXX

Clint walks in the living room to find Nat and Bucky curled up on the couch, wearing matching Winter Soldier lounge pants of all things. He drops in the chair across from them.

“Not fair, Natalia,” Bucky says with a scowl, his character, Toad, spinning in circles from the banana on the track.

“There are no friends in Mario Kart,” she reminds him, nudging his flesh arm. He grins.

“Is that so?”

“What are you-?” She lets out an undignified squeak as he shoves her off the couch, laughing. On screen Bowser crashes into a wall and she loses the lead.

“Bucky!“

“I’m winning this one!”

“Oh no you’re not!“ Of all the avengers, she’s become the most competitive in the game. She settles back against his leg, resigned to sitting on the floor, and smirks as Bowser pulls out a blue shell.

“No, no, no- Natasha!”

“Better luck next time.”

XXXXX

Summer nights mean dinner on the patio, and it’s Steve’s turn to grill. He flips the burgers, trying to show off a little, and drops one on the ground. They make extra for a reason.

Natasha claims her usual seat next to Clint. Despite the warm air, she always runs cold. He frowns. This time it’s an Iron Man hoodie. He decides he’s not going to say anything.

“You okay?”

“Need a beer. You want one?”

“Yeah, please.”

He brings one for everyone, twisting the cap off for her before handing it over. She rolls her eyes. They both know she could do it herself. Secretly, she finds it charming.

“Come on, Steve, I’m starving.”

“Yeah, I bet you had a really hard day hiding in the lab.”

“Says the one who got her ass kicked in Mario Kart by a guy with one arm.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, mom,” Tony says, smirking at Steve. Bucky laughs along with the rest of them. Tony pays for the comment, though. Steve makes sure to serve him last. Clint is just a little bit happy about it.

XXXXX

“Okay spill.”

“What?”

“You’re being weird.”

“I am not,” Clint insists. They’ve finally retreated to the quiet of their room. She’s sitting on the bed, a book in her lap, and he’s stretched out next to her.

“Clint.”

“Why do you keep wearing clothes from all the hot guys in the tower?” he blurts out before he can stop himself. She raises an eyebrow. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

Cranky now, he rolls to face the wall.

“Hey.”

“No. Let me be crabby in peace.”

“Just look for a minute.”

Reluctantly, he rolls over, becoming slightly more interested as she slips off her pajama shorts. Underneath she’s wearing Hawkeye underwear. They’re not sexy- in fact, they’re obnoxious purple boy shorts with targets on them. He can’t help but burst out laughing.

“What the hell are those?”

“You like them?”

“They’re the ugliest things I’ve ever seen. I love them.”

Still laughing, he moves closer, and she pulls him down for a teasing kiss.

“Think you can hit the bullseye?”

“That’s awful, Nat. That’s so bad. Almost as bad as those underwear. Maybe you should take them off.”

“Oh and that wasn’t bad?”

“Is it working?”

“It might be.”

#clintasha #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha fanfic #steve rogers #tony stark #bucky barnes

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 4 years ago

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The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons. Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie.

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth.

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders.

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink.

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list.

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.”

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter.

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart.

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly?

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist.

Bliss.

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip.

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare.

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.”

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens.

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers.

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine.

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut.

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon?

It’s worth the mess.

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener.

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display.

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor.

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department.

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down.

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally.

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.”

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace.

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.

It always does the trick.

***

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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kcuf-ad · 3 years ago

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Jaden Yuki has an iron stomach. This man can eat anything and not complain at all.

The things he ate:

- two eggwiches at the same time

- Raw meat

- plastic

- a banana that was in his pants for a month

- actual garbage

Etc.

#jaden yuki #yugioh gx #judai yuki #jaden please stop #i love you #but come on!

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randomly-a-fan · 3 years ago

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Month 5 Pt. 2 (wedding burner)

WARNING: Language, NSFW Filth from Freddy

Pt. 1

MJ was in the bathroom getting her makeup and jewelry on. She wanted to make her hair nice, but she can’t do hairdos on her own, and is too afraid to use the curling iron; due to the risk of burning her hair or herself. Her mom used to do her hair for special occasions, but her mom won’t be there to get her ready, sadly.

Then out of the blue, she have felt someone’s presence. “My sweet, sweet MJ...” MJ recognized that charm and voice. “Candyman, what are you doing here? I didn’t summon you.” MJ said, not in shock though, just in confusion. “You wanted to invite me to your wedding a month ago, and I said I’ll have to think about it...” Candyman explained. “Are you saying that you’re going to attend?” MJ asked. Candyman made a small sigh. “I would be there if it involves you, but won’t your fiancé have a problem with me attending? after all, I did give him a chaotic scare.” Candyman reminded. MJ smiled with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about him; he has never met you in person, so he doesn’t know what you look like. I just have to call you by your real name; Daniel.” MJ thought.

Candyman nodded softly with a smile. “Then I will attend to you and Jason’s wedding.” He said with a smile. “I’ve noticed you’ve been struggling with your hair; like for me to curl it up for you?” Candyman offered. “You know how to curl hair?” MJ asked in surprise. “I used to do my first lover’s hair back when I was alive; I’ve told you about Caroline, I presume.” Candyman reminded. MJ remembered from when Candyman explained his past to her; as it were his way of torture, since she’s a very sensitive human-being.

***

Meanwhile in the dream-realm, Pennywise woke up in shock; He was in the same situation as Bevvy was. Pennywise was not amused. “Freddy! You really have crossed the line here; this is clearly copyrighting that you’re doing, so stop it!” Pennywise yelled out. “Aw, real shame, I was going to do the Humping-the-Air-Dance for you...” Freddy chuckled.

Pennywise growled. “You better bring me back to my real world; my wife will snap your neck until your eyes are sucked out of its sockets!” Pennywise threated. Freddy just mocks Pennywise. “Ooh, I’m so scared that I shitted my pants... Oh no, wait, that’s from the bananas; Need to change my pants... You’ll never escape my realm, not even Jason; I know both you guy’s fears, so good luck facing it. I would love to stay and watch while eating spicy popcorn, but I have a wedding to attend to, and a bride to fuck with.” Freddy said with a smirk and a cougar growl. “If Jason were here to hear that he’d be after him in a millisecond.” Pennywise said in his thoughts. He knew that he have to get out of here; the one thing that concerns him though is what Freddy said; he knows his fear. What could Pennywise: The Eater of Worlds be afraid of?

Then he heard something. All around him, were different species of turtles. Pennywise was not meant to be afraid of turtles; he was manipulated by Papawise to stay away from turtles, and he said that with a serious tone; that was back when he was a kid. Pennywise was shaking from his legs and started to collapse.

When he gets scared, he’s weak and helpless. Even the baby turtles terrifies him; no matter the size it still upsets him. “...Help... Someone... HELP.” Pennywise cried while curling himself into a ball... literally.

***

Meanwhile, Aquarius was getting Malon ready by doing her hair. “You’re such a good girl, Malon; You never squirm or cry whenever I use the curling iron.” Aquarius complimented. “I’m 10 years old, I’m not a baby; and besides, I know I can trust you.” Malon replied. While Aquarius finishes up, Archie knocked before entering in. “Come in, son... Have you found your father?” Aquarius asked. “I’ve looked everywhere, I even called Papawise, he said he’s not there.” Archie answered. Aquarius nearly quenched her fists on Malon’s hair. “OW--” Malon cried. “Oh Malon I’m so sorry...” Aquarius apologized as she quickly loosens her hand and gave her multiple kisses on her scalp. “I’m just peeved over the fact that Pennywise was gone and had no trace...” Aquarius explained. “Maybe daddy knows where he is, I can ask him when you’re done fixing my hair.” Malon offered.

Just then, they both heard ‘Jason’ walking by. Archie rushed over to Jason to ask him a question about his dad. “Hey, Mr. Voorhees! You know where my dad went, have you seen him?” Archie asked. Freddy didn’t answer; honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer, he just tilted his head and continued walking towards where MJ was. That is until Aquarius stopped him. “Hold on a minute, Jay. I need you to get the rotisserie ready for the big boar, and we need to clean the cafeteria cabin for the banquet.” Aquarius informed. “Damn I hate that bitch!” Freddy said in his head. He can’t deny her, since it’s not in Jason’s character, so he decided to do as he was ordered to.

***

Back in the dream realm, Pennywise was bawling his eyes out as he’s being covered by baby turtles. “If I ever get out of this, I’ll... I’ll lay off the Kinder-Surprise women...” Pennywise praised, as he was referring to pregnant women. While Pennywise still cowers in fear. He heard a familiar chi chi ah ah. “JASON.” Pennywise peeped.

Jason was still in his warn out t-shirt and striped pajama pants from the other night. He felt sorry for Pennywise for being so scared, but he also couldn’t help but laugh silently. “Get them off me... PLEASE.” Pennywise begged. Jason was never aggressive, so he gently removed all the baby turtles and helped his buddy up. “Thanks Jay... These monsters gave me quite a-- uh... Surprise.” Pennywise thanked while feeling awkward and stupid.

As much as Jason wanted to leave to save his family and friends, he wanted to help Pennywise get over his fear; like he did before with water.

[Before]

Freddy explained his plans to Jason on what he’s going to do with MJ; only it was different from the way he told Pennywise. But he was still peeved after hearing that he’s going to marry his wife and then kill her in front of everybody. After Freddy left though, he needed to face his fear of water; he was surrounded by deep, deep water, and the only way out is by jumping into the water and find the exit.

Jason was behaving like a coward like Pennywise was, he just cowers and cries as he was thinking about his wife and daughter, and his friends that he have made in the past. Then he remembered how he needed to think about the people he loved and how to face his fear for the sake of his family, so he decided to take deep breaths and jumped right in.

As he was drowning deep into the water, he’s seeing his past from his childhood; on the day he was pushed into the water at the lake, and then the times he was drowning multiple times in his life (in the movie sequels). The worst part is how Freddy made fun of Jason for being afraid of water falling on him and shrunken into a child. That made Jason boil, so he moved his arms and legs, like as if he was fighting the water. Jason is actually gaining some strength as he was thinking about his wife and daughter; he’d do anything for them, even if it’s risky.

After a large amount of swimming and fighting the water, he finally got out of the water, but not in his usual prison, he’s actually in the sewer area, and the water he just got out of, it wasn’t even deep, he could walk in the water and only goes up above the ankles.

[present]

Pennywise became froze when he felt a baby turtle in his hair. “Jason... There’s a turtle in my hair, get it off!” Pennywise freaked. Jason silently laughed before he removed the turtle gently off his head. “So... Do you crush them, or do you eat them? I’ve heard that some people made them into soup and used their shells as bowls... I think...” Pennywise said. Jason didn’t answer, but he did spoke. “We won’t get out of here in time unless you learn to get over your fear, now touch the turtle.” Jason encouraged in his thoughts. “No freaking way! I wouldn’t touch it if you pay me...” Pennywise said in a stubborn child tone. “It’s not going to bite, just touch it by the shell, it won’t reach your fingers--” “NO!” Pennywise yelled from the top of his lungs. Everything was silent and the turtles are walking towards him. “They’re after me, please kill them!” Pennywise begged as he hid behind Jason like as if he’s a shield.

Jason is starting to lose his patience, so he had no choice but to snap at him. “Look! You know why the turtles are approaching you? They sensed your fear; your fear gets worse if you keep this up... I know; because I was afraid of water and I have to fight it in order to get to my family and friends...” Jason explained in a serious tone in his head. “How? Water is like your worse enemy in your life... You could’ve given up.” Pennywise asked while tearing up. “I could have, but I wouldn’t, because I didn’t want MJ and Malon to fall in the hand and claw of Freddy; I’m more scared for them than I am of water, so I have to fight it through while I think about the ones I cared for. You need to think about the ones you love and fight it through for them.” Jason explained.

Hearing what Jason said about facing his fear for the ones he loved made him want to try and face his fear; so he just thinks about his wife and two kids. “Jason... Give me that freaking turtle.” Pennywise said in a brave but serious tone. As Pennywise held the baby turtle, he was shaking with nerves, until he’s starting to calm down and took a good look at the baby turtle. “He is kind of cute... He’s not that scary...” Pennywise took a big relieved sigh before realizing that all the turtles have disappeared. “Where’d they go?” Pennywise asked while looking around. “You’ve faced your fear, so the turtles are gone... You did good... A lot better than the way I handle it.” Jason said while patting Pennywise’s back.

Because they both faced their fears that Freddy Krueger set up, they’re about to fade away as they are about to wake up. When Pennywise got up, he looked over at Jason who is also awake, but he’s unable to move a limb. “Jason, What’s the matter?” Pennywise asked concernedly. Jason turned his head to face him. “It’s the injection that Freddy gave me, not only they put me into a deep sleep, but it causes my undead-muscles to not function...” Jason tried to lift his arms, but they are still too weak. “You must go and warn my wife and your family about the crises... I’ll catch up... eventually...” Jason said in his head.

Pennywise was going to run off, but somehow, he just couldn’t find it in his soul to do so. If it wasn’t for Jason, he’d still be trapped in the dream-realm while being surrounded by turtles. He’s not going to leave Jason by himself, so he stubbornly stayed and try to recuperate him. “Best friends never leave their best friends behind. I’m staying until you regain your strength...” Pennywise said with a little persuasion. “Pennywise, don’t be stub--” “I’M STAYING UNTIL YOU GET YOUR LIFELESS ASS OFF THE GROUND.” Pennywise cut off with a roar, as his eyes are turning red. “You’re going to get up, and I will help you along the way, now GET OFF THE GROUND.” Pennywise added.

Jason glared angrily at Pennywise, but he can also see where he’s getting at; he had talked some serious senses to Pennywise, just to get him to touch the baby turtle and succeeded. If Pennywise can face his fear of turtles, Jason can hell as get his muscles going; he just hoped that he’ll be able to recuperate himself before the wedding ceremony begins; which starts in about an hour and a half.

To Be Continued

#Friday the 13th #Jason Voorhees #Fandom #Fanfiction #IT #IT Chapter 2 #Pennywise #Pennywise the Dancing Clown #A Nightmare on Elm Street #Freddy Krueger #MJ #Candyman #Aquarius #Aquarius the Singing Clown #Malon #Archie

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nochiquinn · 3 years ago

Text

lovm watch party 3: we draw it

"what goes into a chunky monkey" "my mouth" "...wait"

I want tom nook pants

"have you never crossed your animals"

junior mints are the only correct answer

"are junior mints underage? is that creepy?"

"we love you twitch chat" false

fuck you playback error

we do this EVERY WEEK why are you LIKE THIS

the entire commentary is become robots

okay there we go, we are unrobot

let me hear ashley's scratch recording

dvd extras WHEN

dead cosplayer cosplay!

how. how did y'all not realize that was bread. it's clearly bread.

"he was renting it"

Inverted Banana

"this is a Nuts Pan"

thank you for referencing the EXTREMELY PERSISTENT GORE

run it through an instagram filter

exandria's two moons and five suns

dfjsdkl the chest hair

"this was more graphic the first time" HOW

marisha and laura burp soundcloud library

it's called SCANBO not PLANBO

3D roof!

"is it infuriating to have to animate rain AND fire AND a fight with magic all at the same time"

"[rory mcann] talks and you're just like 'yes, that's it'"

Edgelord and Chonky

travis has their names on a paper to read them off properly, bless

oh that early keyleth is Cute

still wish she was taller than vax

"make sure it's legal"

she did look kind of 14-ish in the first design

"sam and travis, you wrote this episode together, who let this happen"

"lots more potions and lots more singing" it WAS almost a musical

love animatic!vedmire

just a big angry face

mica: "how could I ever think you guys would lower yourself to poop jokes??"

ashley looks so cozy

"I know math and numbers real goodly" mood

twitch chat: "why no burt reynolds esq" links them to the wikipedia article for copyright infringement

I have my notepad positioned to cover twitch chat but not the group camera and I don't feel like moving it for the in-between

"he loves going outdoors and murdering things"

"maybe for an artbook" 👀

The Girl

hair-down pike!!

man I wish I could play sims

I don't have the computer

"do you wanna see the basement?" "WHAT'S IN THE BASEMENT??"

"irONIC"

aaand I refresh to make the bitch work...

aaand everyone becomes a robot...

sam leaning forward to talk to loftis is very endearing to me

"aren't there dice hidden everywhere" "literally everywhere"

everybody hyping keyleth AS THEY SHOULD

"matt mercer cameo as...a jerk."

"he's just the most evil humpty dumpty"

brb gonna be a tiger

oh I ws RIGHT they changed it for the show

okay but I would watch a ghibli critrole

pls can you imagine keyleth's stuff in ghibli style

"diaphragm diaphragm DIAPHRAGM"

one million points to bertrand dinesco?"

tracie thoms was not in fact the original joanne from rent, that was Fredi Walker

yes call out the transformations

"sorry I punched your character in the head"

"Liam's gonna solve EVERYTHING"

"fitting that a book is liam's end"

love that they react to the show as strongly as we do as the audience

sam's reaction is my reaction

"that window was begging for someone to go through it"

oh! I know that show!

okay I know OF that show

Little Trauma Stripe

"your character's dumb"

"how many hours ago did you get married"

bye luke

"he would do this in real life"

"it's all pot smoke"

god I love pike's face in this episode

"don't cry. I said don't cry"

ashley just being bewildered by the process of animation is adorable and a mood

quyen dance!!

"vox machina needs a nap"

"can anyone give them a blankie???"

I had to check on my kid but I assume I was correct about what ashley wanted to do with pike

"if you're strong in your friendship and strong in your faith you're gonna be great"

"how would you utilize [cloud control]?" "dicks and balls"

"chief artist of dicks and balls specifically"

I loved pulled-out shots of buildings and areas we only ever see pieces of

laser sauna

and refresh...

and robots...

samuel

"if I'm her I don't know if I touch that book"

"also then your husband is a hot vampire"

"long-haired sylas is so hot"

"she cuts his hair every morning. it's a couples thing they do."

joaquim dos santos??

"lead on voltron" this is atla erasure

"oh look it's my daughter! look, she's fine!"

"do they just flop around like fish?"

still love cass' judo flip

arthur casually incriminating his team

"archie still hasn't been able to wipe his nose"

CRASS SAILOR I can't believe I forgot to call that out in my recap

one unit of melee

the Many Zombies was very nice, I appreciated it

"it looks gross! good job!"

the scratches on the lenses

"whose fingerprints are those on the lenses. so we can steal their identity."

"we went to quebec and they were like 'get the fuck out'"

"my wife screamed"

"HE SAID THE NAME"

taliesin has been doing this speech in his head for six years, he has plenty of practice

honestly I would have loved liam and marisha to both be in this one bc I miss liam making googoo eyes

"if it's not stupid don't try it"

"this might be reaching critical mass" y'think

god these animatics are so nice

marisha also not picking up on vax flirting, oh my god

"for fucking ever. like forty episodes."

ashley: I didn't realize that was a thing you could do but also I don't know why you couldn't

"none of this is appropriate right now!"

"there's a right way and a wrong way, and I'm not gonna tell you which one THIS is" "but I AM gonna walk away and let you think about it"

arthur being so hype about gilmore's shop

sam: alright I'll sing

"we only have one more of these" cries

GREY

#the legend of vox machina #lovmtag #critical role #spoilers #crititag #liveblog #reaction post

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kerysene-june · 4 years ago

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I wrote a quick drabble maybe a week ago, planning on writing some more, eventually. I ain't feeling it, so might as well post it. It ends pretty abruptly, but who knows, maybe one day Ill finish it /shrug.

In the Park

(Under the cut)

Marcy jumped as her phone buzzed twice against her chest, temporarily quieting her blaring music. She let out a sight as she missed the double jump - again - and fell into the same pit of spikes that had claimed her the last three times.

So close yet so fricking far, she grumbled to herself as she threw the console to her side. Onto a pillow, of course. Couldn’t risk breaking it. I’m gonna finish that level one way or another.

She grabbed her phone. On the screen was a message from Sasha. She quickly typed in her pin - 0286 (The date her favorite game ever was released.)

Hey, my mom’s gonna be home soon and Anne’s at tennis. Lets hang ;P.

It didn’t take a genius to read inbetween the lines. It wasn’t a question as much as a begging.

Sure. I haven’t been out of bed all day anyhow. Wanna meet up at the park on fifth? We can meet up with Anne after ahe done with practice

Marcy didn’t blame Sasha for wanting to avoid her mother. Marcy only met the women once or twice, and she... left something to be desired, to say the least. She wasn’t a bad woman, at least, marcy hadn't spent enough time with her to form that judgement, but she certainly wasn’t cut out to be a mother.

Sure! meet ya there, marbles :3

Marcy groaned as she threw herself out of bed, quickly putting on a pair of pants and her jacket. She stuffed her Creatures & Caverns core rulebook and monster manual, Switch, and portable charger in her bag before grabbing her favourite bobby pin and sticking it in her hair. She carefully made her way through the piles of books and papers on her floor before opening her door.

“Hey, mā, Sash wanted to hang out a bit before her mom gets home, that OK?” Marcy yelled down the hall.

“Just be home before dinner! Oh, and bring xiăo làjiāo a snack, OK?” Her mother said back, quite a bit quieter than Marcy.

“Hăo, māmā! Be back in a bit!” Marcy yelled as she ran down the stairs, grabbing a banana and a soda from the fridge before running out the door - nearly slipping on nothing,

Marcy plugged her headphones into her phone, starting a playlist as she began walking down the street. The late summer sun was setting behind the cityscape, casting the sky in deep reds and purples, a few lavender clouds clinging to the edges of the horizon. She walked in beat with her music, down her road. She was still thinking about that video game level, going over it again and again in her head. She barely noticed the houses passing by as she walked further and further. She and Sash - and Anne when she didn’t have practice - often hung out in the park, for as long as Marcy could remember. It was actually where she had first met Sasha, way back in kindergarten. She stood up to two middle schoolers who kicked her and Anne off the swings, which Marcy always thought was weird. What kind of middle schoolers would bully kindergartens? They were barely 6 at the time. That’d be like a 24 year old bullying a 12 year old. She paused. Well, on the internet, anything’s possible. It’s like a 24 year old bullying a twelve year old in real life.

Marcy stopped at the crosswalk, pressing the button. She watched as the little red hand across the street wave at her, and she couldn't help but smile and wave back. That jump had to be frame perfect though, it just had to be. There was no other way you could make it. She knew that you were supposed to fall there, to prevent you from going that direction until you got an upgrade. She also knew that it was possible, she’s seen other people do it. It just was hard. Super, super, super hard.

The waving hand turned to the green man as she began to walk across the road, making sure to wave at each of the driver’s she passed by. Everyone made the jump look so easy, it was infuriating to her. She turned onto the final stretch of road, the sign of the park in view. She stood up straight, trying to see where Sasha was, when she caught the signature denim jacket over by the tennis courts.

She doesn’t know what came over her at that moment, but whatever it was, it caused her to grab the bars of the fence and heave herself up. She braced her foot against the bars and thrusted her body upwards, grabbing the top of the fence. She struggled for a moment, barely managing to throw one leg over the top. It was luckily a flat top, because she probably wouldn't have had the strength to keep herself from touching it. With another heave, she threw her other leg over the top, so she was sitting on it. She quickly took off her backpack and gently threw it to the ground. Well, as gently as one could throw something to the ground. She grinned to herself, as she, in one final moment of hubris, decided to jump off the top of the fence instead of climbing back down. If only they were looking at ol’ klutzy Marcy now! Anne wou-

“Mar-Mar! What are you doing?” A familiar voice drifted across the park, causing Marcy to second guess herself at the last second, and with a yelp and a tumble, Marcy fell off the fence, twirling in the air before landing with a sudden and rough thump! Pain wracked through her body as she felt something in her shoulder go Pop! and a burning sensation shot down her arm. Her breath was knocked right out of her lungs. Through her somewhat dampened hearing, she heard a barrage of foot falls as two familiar heads popped into her view.

“Marcy! Are you okay?!” Anne nearly shouted, kneeling down at her side.

“What were you doing up there, Marbles?” Sasha said as she reached into her back, fishing out a case with a red “+” on it.

Marcy chuckled, somewhat ironically and then winced from the pain. “Wha- What makes you think I know? All I know was I was gonna land till one of you two called me out on how stupid that was.” She grinned as she looked up at her friends, only getting two concerned looks back. “Aw, come on you two. This isn’t the most stupid thing I’ve done, not by a long shot! Remember the rope-”

“Oh, Jesus, Marce! Don’t bring up the rope! Your arm-” Sasha mimicked gagging as she took out a toilette from the case and started wiping at some of Marcy’s cuts. Marcy grimicade at the burning of the alcohol on the fresh wounds.

“Practice already over, Anna-banana?”

“Yeah, Coach took a tennis ball straight to her good eye - at no fault of her own - so she let us all go earlier.”

“Yeah, it was wicked,” Sasha laughed. “That thing was going at least mach 4”

Anne rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless.

“Well, by your grinning, I’ll take it she was okay,” Marcy smiled. “. wants me back before dinner, by the way.” She groaned as Sasha and Anne pulled her to her feet. The three of them began to walk over to the table Sasha was sitting at prior, Anne and Marcy sitting on one side, Sasha on the other.

“Oh, Sash! Have you eaten today? Māmā wanted me to bring you a snack. You know how she is." Marcy said, digging the banana and soda out of her bag.

Ye, that's all. Lost all motivation to finish it, so

Idk, I haven't gone through and revised it, either, so don't judge too harshly lol

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #fanfiction #drabble #ceris rambles #the writings of ceris mae

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btschooseafic · 4 years ago

Text

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva does a deep clean of the dorm. Yoongi locks himself in the studio.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Track 10: Come Clean

Come Clean - Anfa Rose

“Let me come clean, I’ve been down in the dirt Don't get caught up on the details baby, but I been the worse”

According to the report Aviva received from Namjoon, he, Taehyung, and Jungkook had pulled the short straws and were sleeping on the couches.

Aviva hadn’t been able to stop by the new dorm since they moved in. She was still hoping to find them a larger place (within budget) as well as researching instructors. She had checked in on them in the group chat, and they said they were eating well and keeping a regular schedule. Jungkook called her one night to complain about Namjoon’s late night computer habits, but Aviva talked him into sharing a bed with either Jimin or Hoseok, knowing they wouldn’t mind.

So when she finally got to the dorm, it was a big shock to find it literally covered in trash.

Jungkook waved to her from his place sitting on the couch.

“Hi, Avi-noona...” His cheerful greeting tone faded when he spotted her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Kim Namjoon-ssi…” Aviva practically growled.

“Yes, Siljangnim?” Namjoon said, entering the room wearing a calm smile. He looked over her face. “Why do you look so anxious?”

“Why?” She gestured around the room. “What the hell happened here? You said things were going fine.”

“They are.”

“It’s a pigsty in here!”

Namjoon shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. Maybe it’s just you.”

“It’s okay to be a little messy,” Jin commented as he joined them.

“A little?” Aviva repeated dubiously. Jungkook laughed. She frowned at him. He sobered.

“Seokjin-hyung!” Hoseok said, rushing in. “Are the noodles done yet? I’m hungry…”

“Just you wait!” Jin smiled, turning to Aviva. “You’ll eat with us, right, manager? Do you want an egg with yours?”

“Jin-oppa…” Aviva said slowly. “When you said you could make a meal out of anything… were you counting instant noodles as a meal?”

“You have to eat instant noodles once in a while!” Jin argued. “Like you said—a balanced diet!”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Aviva said. “But I won’t lecture you about it, as long as you’re eating other things as well.”

“Well, yesterday—” Jin started excitedly.

“Ah! Ah! Hyungs! Taehyungie’s being mean to me again!” Jimin said, running over.

Taehyung was running after him. “Hey! Didn’t I say that there would be a slap fight if I caught you messing around?”

“Okay, time to eat!” Jin said loudly. “I’m done noodling around!” Aviva snorted. Jin winked at her. Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“Huh, instant noodles?” Jimin perked up. “I want some!”

“Noodles?” Taehyung looked over at them. “We’ll have a momentary ceasefire then…” He blinked. “Manager-noona! You’re here!” He skipped over to her, leaning on her shoulder. “Are you eating with us?”

“I guess?” She looked at Jin. “I’ll have an egg.”

“Coming right up.” He nodded.

“Good God…” Yoongi groaned, coming out of the bedroom with his hands over his ears and his eyes narrowed in slits. “Can you guys please keep it down when people are sleeping? Seriously…”

Aviva stared at him. “You’re just waking up? It’s past noon.”

“I told you I’m trying to keep a normal schedule,” he said. Aviva took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

“Okay, okay, so maybe you’ve been living in a pigsty off of instant noodles and sleeping at odd hours—are you at least practicing?” She looked around at them.

“Practicing?” Yoongi repeated doubtfully.

“Well, as you can see, we’ve been doing a lot of team bonding,” Jin told her.

“What about that routine Sungduek-ssi wanted you to work on?” She asked. Hoseok blinked, resting his hands on his hips.

“What? Ah, um… what was it again?”

“Was it this one?” Jimin danced awkwardly. Hoseok looked at him and started doing something completely different.

“You haven’t practiced at all,” Aviva realized, sinking onto the couch. She squeaked. “What is this?” She stood up quickly, touching the back of her pants. “It’s wet…”

“Ah…” Jungkook winced. “That was my banana milk. I meant to clean it up yesterday, but I guess I forgot…”

“Okay.” Aviva rolled up her sleeves.

“Uh-oh,” Namjoon said, eyeing her. “She’s getting serious.”

“Noona?” Jimin looked at her in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Look,” she said, holding her hands on her hips. “I get that this is new for you, and it’s exciting, but how do you expect to debut if you keep living like this? What are you guys doing?”

“Actually… we don’t know what we’re doing,” Namjoon admitted. “Like you said, it’s new to us. Bang-PD-nim sort of let us do whatever we wanted in the beginning. But once Chief Youngjin came into the picture, he planed things down to the hour. Now that he’s cut us loose, we don’t even know where to start. We knew you were busy, and we didn’t know who else to ask…” Aviva sighed.

“Sorry we disappointed you,” Hoseok said.

“Oh, Hobi,” Aviva said, her chest feeling tight. “You could be doing better, but so could I. It’s new for all of us… we’ll just have take it slowly, one step at a time.”

“Manager-noona?” Jungkook asked quietly. “What do you want us to do first?”

“I think a good goal would be to write a song,” Aviva thought aloud. “I want everybody to have some input, even if it’s just a little. Stick to whatever feels the most comfortable at first. Maybe Yoongi-oppa can work on a beat...” She looked at him. He smiled at her, making her feel like she missed a step going down the stairs.

“I’ll start right away!” He turned to go back into the bedroom.

“Nope!” Aviva stepped in front of him. “There’s something we need to do before anything else!”

“What’s that?” Taehyung wondered.

“Jin-oppa, do we have these items?” She sent him a quick text. He looked at it.

“Do we have to—“ His eyes widened. “Okay, wow, I’ve never seen such a scary look on your face, okay, yes, I’ll go get the stuff.” He came back a moment later with garbage bags, a vacuum, and a mop.

“It’s time for a deep cleaning,” Aviva announced. “We’ll never get anything done in a house like this.”

Taehyung took one look at the cleaning supplies and tried to make a break for it.

“Grab him!” Namjoon shouted. Jimin and Jungkook pounced. Hoseok laughed.

“Okay, but first, you come with me, Avi-yah!” He grabbed her arm.

“What? Why?” She wondered as he dragged her towards the bedroom. The left side of the room was decidedly neater than the right. The right top bunk was covered in laundry and miscellaneous technology. Aviva could make out a laptop, a camera… was that a disassembled soundboard? The bed beneath it was covered in plushies. On the left side of the room the bottom bunk was covered in skin care products, and a few plushies. The top bunk was neatly made with what looked like a freshly ironed suit hanging on a hanger off the bed frame. She pointed. “I’m guessing this bed is yours?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Hoseok said, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he moved over to a set of drawers. Aviva ignored the innuendo, stepping up next to him to study the line of figurines carefully arranged on top of the dresser.

She smiled. “I didn’t know you collected these.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty cute,” Hoseok said nonchalantly. “Maybe I could even give Jiminie a run for his money.” She hummed uncertainly. Hoseok nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. No one’s as cute as Jiminie—too bad he’s a slob, like the rest of them.” He sighed, pulling a pair of sweatpants out of his drawer and held it out to her. She stared at it confusedly. “You sat in banana milk. I think these should fit you.”

“Oh.” Her face felt hot. “I forgot. Thanks.” She took them.

“Give your pants to me when you’re done changing,” Hoseok said, moving towards the door. “I’m good at getting stains out—oh, and you should take your jacket off too, so it doesn’t get dirty while we clean! I’ll get you a hanger for it.”

“Whose pants are those?” Namjoon wondered as he watched her cuff the bottoms of the too-long sweatpants.

“Mine!” Hoseok singsonged. “Doesn’t she look cute in my clothes?”

Namjoon frowned, trying not to study the way the fabric highlighted her curves so closely. “Well, sort of…”

“Guys,” she said, flushing. “Shut up and let’s start cleaning.”

Three days later, Jungkook texted Aviva, worried that Yoongi had been locked in the studio working on the new song this whole time.

“He needs sun!” Jungkook said. “And food other than the dumplings Jin-hyung is leaving in front of the door for him.”

Aviva rushed over, going into the room despite the others protests that Yoongi wasn’t himself and she would be better off leaving him alone.

“Manager-nim? What are you doing here so late?” He said, squinting at her through the dark.

“Late?” She walked over to the blackout curtains and pulled them open. He hissed at the sudden light. “It’s noon.”

“My eyes!”

Aviva snorted. “Are you a song writing vampire, Yoongi-oppa?” She ignored his glare. “Either get some sunlight or take some vitamins or something, you’re worrying JK.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“The maknae shouldn’t worry.”

“Shouldn’t he?” She moved over to the computer. “Can I hear what you’ve been working on?” She gasped as he grabbed her wrist. “Aish, Yoongi, your hands are cold.”

“Sorry.” He pulled her back from the computer. “But the bridge isn’t done yet, so you can’t hear it.”

“Yoongi-yah…” She looked at him worriedly. “I appreciate that you’re putting so much effort into this song, but I’m worried about you too. You need sleep. Don’t you love sleeping?”

He shrugged. “It’s my choice if I want to suffer for my art.” He smiled tiredly. “Thanks for appreciating my effort, though. That helps.” He pushed her gently, but firmly, out of the room.

“Joonie…Joon…” Aviva waved her hand in front of his face. They were sitting at a cafe. She had meant to meet up with him and talk about how they could help Yoongi, but his focus was on his notebook. “Are you struggling with the songwriting that much?”

“Well, yeah.” He finally ripped his eyes off of it, looking at her. “How can I figure out a theme if Yoongi-hyung doesn’t let me hear the beat? It’s killing me.” He sighed. “Listen, I gotta get going, keep trying with this. I’ll see you later, okay?”

The next morning, Aviva got a call from Namjoon, telling her that he had accidentally deleted Yoongi’s file while trying to sneak a listen of it.

“It’s partially my fault as well, since I didn’t stop him,” Hoseok thought. “Sorry, Siljangnim.” He clasped his hands together.

She sighed, running her hand through her hair.

“Well, thanks for being honest, guys. I’ll talk to him.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive us?” Hoseok asked sadly.

“…I think so,” Aviva said. “We all know Yoongi-oppa is a lot thoughtful than he pretends to be. And anyway, you’re a team. Arguments are inevitable, it’s how you resolve them that matters.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, a serious look on his face. “There’s only one thing to do.” He grabbed Hoseok’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Hoseok shouted, startled as Namjoon pulled him along.

“I didn’t know you studied computer science,” Yoongi said, watching as she sat in his chair and typed away at his computer.

“Just a little.” She yawned. “I’ve taken a lot of classes on different things—you never know what you might need to know as a manager, right?”

“I guess?” His brow furrowed. “So…what are you doing now?”

“Looking back in the program’s logs… oh.” She grimaced. “Sorry, oppa, the newest version that was auto saved was from several days ago.”

Yoongi let out a deep breath, pushing his bangs away from his face.

“Right. That would be the case.” He tilted his head, studying the dark circles under her eyes. “Listen, you’ve been at this all night. You should go home, get some rest.”

“Hypocrite,” she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”

She waved her hand. “I’ll be fine. I just need coffee. Coffee, coffee…” She hummed as she stood up, stretching. “You want some?”

“Sure. You make a good cup of coffee.”

She beamed at him, making his stomach flutter a bit.

When she opened the studio door, Jimin and Jungkook fell inside. They must have been leaning up against the door. Yoongi frowned at them, resting his hands on his hips. Jimin laughed nervously and made a break for it, running over to hide behind Jin and Taehyung, who were standing further down the hall. Yoongi grabbed Jungkook before he could get away.

“What’s going on?” He growled.

“Nothing, we were just… worried,” Jungkook admitted. “You’ve been in here for a while, and Namjoon-hyung and Hoseok-hyung have been locked in the bedroom for days as well…” Aviva frowned.

“They won’t let me in my own room!” Jimin whined. “I want clean clothes, and my skin care products, and my bed, and—“

“I’m tried of leaving food at doors!” Jin whined. “I want to see people eating my food—appreciating it!”

“Is locking yourself in your room the trend these days?” Taehyung wondered, titling his head. “I should take notes.”

“No, no.” Aviva walked over to him and patted his arm. “Don’t be like them, Tae Tae, please. Just be yourself.”

Taehyung smiled at her. “Okay, manager-noona. I can do that.”

“Jin-oppa, I’m gonna make some coffee for me and Yoongi-oppa. I might be hungry, if you wanna pick up breakfast together,” she offered.

“Yes!” Jin waved his arms excitedly.

Yoongi groaned.

“Too loud. I’m going back to the studio…”

When Namjoon and Hoseok finally came out of their room, they revealed they had been working on recreating what they had heard from Yoongi’s file. They hadn’t been able to remember the whole thing, but Yoongi enjoyed the changes they made and asked them to keep working with him on the final version.

“Aw…” Aviva said, watching the three of them chat away.

“It’s so touching, isn’t it?” Taehyung thought, leaning on her shoulder.

#bts #bts x oc #ot7 x oc #fanfiction #bts predebut #bts world #idolverse #manager!oc #ot7 #bts fanfiction #my fics #hey you what's your dream

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sooibian · 5 years ago

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Flambé (Preview)

poster and edits/collage credits to @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt !

🍜 pairing: kyungsoo x fem!reader

🍜 description: pull up a chair. take a taste. come join us. life is so endlessly delicious. - ruth reichl

🍜 themes: fluff, crack (ish), slight angst, a lil bit of spice (in the future), rivals to lovers au

🍜 word count: ~ 2.8k

🍜 a/n: a little preview of a chef kyungsoo story that i've been working on. while i have the plot fleshed out it'll honestly be a while before the long one/two-shot comes out since a lot of research goes into the details. and....i write at a snail's pace. thank you for your patience and lmk if you'd like a tag in the updates!

this story is inspired by a lot of random yt videos and netflix's shows - street food and chef's table.

tagging *deep breath* @j-pping and @changshapatrol (the real rotten banana is here!)

___________________________________________

Water bobbed in frenetic bubbles in a massive ancient stone pot that was perched atop a fort of raging wood. Amidst brutal peals of thunder, a gushing stream rose from a nearby hill, obscuring the shrill cries of the sacrificial crab.

Chanting a spell, you lifted the enormous crustacean by its pincers and lowered it into the growling, pitch black utensil. Blubbering helplessly, it lodged its claws at the rim of the pot in desperation - seeking escape. The sound of your maniacal laughter reverberated through the cave as you thrust it back into the violent undulation with the flick of a bladed-spatula.

All of a sudden, a wave of unconsciousness swept over you. You felt your skin singe as boiling water started to fill up your lungs.

You were alone - at the bottom of the very same utensil.

“Help!” frantic, you staggered up, gasping for air. But the bladed-spatula wielding crab, who was now free and hovering over you, roared at your defenseless form.

Maybe your spell didn't land, you thought.

“Please, Chef!” you whimpered.

In one swift motion, it swooshed down to your eye level.

Bushy black brows sprouted on its forehead, just a little over a pair of big brown circles for eyes. Then came the nose, followed by a bloody red mouth that snarled at you.

zzzz...

“Late again?” It drawled in a jarring tenor.

zzzz...

zzzz…

4:00 a.m., your phone blinked.

In a sleep befuddled state, your hand reached out for the wailing device. ‘Late again’, Chef’s cold, deep voice sounded in your consciousness as you wiped the droplets of sweat off your forehead.

Chef.

Doh Kyungsoo had insisted on the title and you'd defiantly refused to call him that. What business does a man working at a Kalguksu stand in Gwangjang Market have, being called a chef. You'd seeked redressal with the higher ups. The owner. Your aunt.

"Aegiya, he has something that you don't."

"A dick?"

"YAH! He has a degree in culinary arts. It's only befitting that we give him the respect his degree deserves!"

"Imo, haven't you watched Parasite? Anyone can forge documents these days and if so then why is he here? He could very well get a job at Four Seasons like Hyun Jin. Think, Imo. Think!”

“Exactly! With forged documents, he could be anywhere. But he’s here, no?”

“Maybe you’re just easier to manipulate.”

"Chef. You're calling him Chef."

Every time the egotistical madman opened that darned mouth of his, it made you want to knock him down with a roundhouse and beat the living daylights out of him.

But, with a deep breath, you always resisted the temptation.

Because one day, one glorious day, you’d take over your aunt’s business and the very first item on your agenda would be….well, the obvious. With a glimmer of hope, you floundered out of your comforter, muttering every cuss word you’d learnt...and crafted in the course of working with the devil himself.

“Ahh 3000 is a bit too much for cucumbers", he said to the middle aged vendor, flashing a boyish grin.

The face of sourcing had drastically changed in the last six months since Kyungsoo’s arrival. Prior to his dictatorship, your aunt had a tie up with some of the local vendors who’d hand deliver the produce every single day, without fail. Guess Kyungsoo didn’t fully comprehend the benefits of customer loyalty. ‘There could be better quality ingredients out there, Sajangnim...economically priced, I might add’, he’d convinced your aunt using his military corporal voice. No matter if it meant awkward break-ups with the vegetables ahjumma or the prawns ahjussi. You had to do the dirty work.

And tag along for the routine 5 a.m sourcing runs. Every morning, he greeted you with an accusatory ‘you’ve killed my cat’ expression.

You groaned, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. If only he’d quit flirting with every woman in the market and hurry up! The purchases had long exceeded the capacity of your humble cart. Flailing your numb arms awake, you urged him to speed up with a nudge of the knee but he glared at you like you’d asked him for a kidney.

Kyungsoo had a tendency to overbuy but never would he help with a single bag. ‘I don’t like to sweat’ was his excuse. Which was pretty ridiculous considering he spent over ten hours a day overseeing a scorching frying pan. But you knew better than to argue. Because as much as you loathed every fibre of his existence, he terrified you a little. The man possessed the duality of a psychopath. As fierce as he was in the Market, ruthlessly competitive even, he was quite the sweet talker. And you could bet your life on the fact that every woman - whether or not a rival - would take a bullet for him.

“Ahdeul-ah”, the woman cooed at him, making your insides violently contort, “you know how tight the market is these days. But I’ll throw in some more only for you.”

The additional weight of three kilos on your right arm ended your sourcing run for the day.

***

“Chef”, huffing, you said to him on your way out, “I had a late night last night.”

“And I need to be privy to this little nugget of unwarranted information because?” He paced ahead of you at his usual lightning speed.

“No, I meant, could we stop”, panting you continued, “could we stop for a quick cup of coffee.”

Halting abruptly, he turned around to look you in the eyes, “No.”

“Asshole!”

“I heard that.”

Monday at Choi Yoonsun’s was busier than usual.

It went by in a daze amidst a cacophony of a sizzling girdle, clanging of pots and pans and your aunt’s relentless vocalization inviting customers to the stall. Having served thousands of bowls of Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu, you heavily relied on muscle memory to get you through a workday’s demands.

Despite its chaos and commotion, you quite enjoyed working in the Market.

Not being particularly skilled at much and having nearly flunked out of high school, cooking was the one thing that defined you. It was your safe harbour. You’d lost your father in an accident at the tender age of ten and your mother was forced to work long hours to put food on the table. So you honed your culinary skills, little by little, because you thought it vital for your own well being as well as your mother’s.

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

At the end of yet another gratifying day, you left a wet towel soaking in vinegar for Kyungsoo to clean the iron girdle and proceeded to tend to the dirty dishes.

“Yahh!” Imo called out for Kyungsoo and you, thumping her hand on the table, gesturing for you to join her.

“Ahh! Imo, there’s a huge pile of dirty dishes!” You cried, only to turn around to find that ass-kisser already at the table, schmoozing with your aunt. Hastily taking off your grubby apron, you washed your hands and wiped them clean with a rag cloth. Straightening your black shirt and flattening unruly flyaways, you rushed toward the table but she was already up and ready to leave, “We’ll have dinner together tonight. I want to have a chat with the both of you.”

“But -”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupted, wagging a finger in your direction, “this one’s had a late night last night -”

“Chef! So I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight. As if seeing you every day of every week wasn’t enough already!”

An overtly saccharine smile spread across your face and his jaw tightened in response.

“Aish….you two...I’m leaving now”, she sighed, shaking her head, “see you both in two hours.”

Kimchi jjigae, pajeon, tteokbokki, jajangmyeon, some leftover bibimbap with sides galore from Hong Lim Banchan Stall. She clearly had something important to talk about.

But the vibe at the dinner table just didn’t sit right with you.

The reason could be the bespectacled black hole of negativity that was seated besides you in all black clothing but there was something off about Imo.

She was being a little too...nice.

Fear gradually started to settle in your bones. Was she finally closing down? Was this delectable fare an attempt at softening the blow? After all, she’d settled her husband’s debts and her sons were doing well for themselves. Quite well, in fact. One of them was a banker and the other even went to culinary school and was working as a chef at Four Seasons’ Chinese restaurant. It only made sense for her to trade the Market’s gruelling ways for some much deserved peace and quiet.

“We’re closing down the stall”, she said coolly.

It was like a punch in the gut.

“Imo -”

“Aga”, she said resting her chin on her hand, “the Market’s given me everything. It’s given me a sense of pride...a sense of independence. It put my family back together. I used to think that I’m nothing without my husband and my sons...but the Market gave me an identity.”

A million scenarios cascading through your head drowned out your aunt’s voice. Would you now have to go back to Bucheon? Or invest in a stall of your own at the traditional Gwangjang that’d never accept your big and bold ways with cooking? And to start from scratch? With a new recipe? Kalguksu with a twist, perhaps? But you had no insight into your aunt’s special broth. She’d barely even let you whip up the hand-cut noodles.

You realized that you weren’t the only one caught in the eye of the storm. Kyungsoo’s eyes were scarily fixated on the bowl of jajangmyeon before him. His seemingly miserable state gave you a fleeting sense of relief and it was right in that moment that he chose to say something unpalatable.

“Sajangnim, you’ve worked too hard. It’s time for you to reap the fruits of your labour. We’ll be fine you don’t have to worry about us.”

Of course he’ll be fine.

All the stall-owners in the Market have been vying for him ever since the day he set foot into Choi Yoonsun’s. Whereas, you had nowhere to go. The world conveniently assumes your aunt hired you only because you were her poor sister’s daughter who she sought to help financially. Not because you had what it took to be there and survive.

"Did I say I was ready to retire?” She laughed, eyeing Kyungsoo quizzically, leaving you dumbfounded.

“Here’s the thing..I met up with a friend last month. She was looking for a buyer for her little family run marinated crabs restaurant in Gangnam. So I took out a loan, made her an offer”, balling her hands into fists she sighed, “put in the deposit...and the place is pretty much mine now!”

“IMO!”, you yelled, “why did you scare me like that! I thought I was laid off!”

“Well, it’s a big move, I’m not sure the two of you are ready to make...requires a tonne of work and I may not be able to pay half of what you earned at the Market for at least two months until we open! It’ll take us two years or so to break even and only then will I be able to afford you a pay raise. I could help you get a job at the banchan stall since you love seasoned spinach so much and Kyungsoo stands a chance at even managing one of the Pakgane stalls!”

Pakgane was the mung bean pancake stall that had gotten so popular that the owner had managed to branch out of Gwangjang. So even your beloved aunt believed that you’d make for a better “help” and Kyungsoo, a Manager.

Ugh!

“I’m coming with you”, you said firmly, “I’ve saved up a little and Mom will gladly pitch in, if need be...”

At this point, you’d expected Kyungsoo to be ready with his luggage considering the little sycophant he was but his expression was stoic, eyes still glued to the jajangmyeon bowl. It filled you with insane hope.

He was going to jump the ship...finally!

“Chef...”, you couldn’t resist, “you don’t have to worry about us...I’m more than enough for Imo. You may...”

He shot you an angry glare making you chew on your unsaid words. But you wanted to rile him just a little more. So you excused yourself to bring a bottle of ketchup and squeezed it generously atop the stack of pajeon while eyeing him maliciously.

Ketchup.

The tangy, unassuming condiment was the sole reason Kyungsoo despised you. As this dinner marked the end of his torturous regime, you celebrated with ketchup - lots of it - right in front of his nasty eyes.

Steam swirled in different directions and at every twenty metres a contrastive redolence tickled your olfactory senses. Experiencing Gwangjang as a customer was a far richer experience compared to the donkeywork involved in a life as a vendor.

A proper send-off was essential lest Kyungsoo decided to stay, even if it burned a hole in your pocket. You planned on giving him a final tour of the Market where he (and you) could say his goodbyes while receiving a premium fuel of vitamins, minerals and carbs.

A whole lot of carbs.

“Let’s start with Pakgane”, said Kyungsoo, with a skewered sausage in his hand.

You shook your head in response. You wanted to start with the best and mung bean pancakes weren’t it. This was going to be a farewell he’d never forget.

With every step you took, the aroma of scallops drizzled with butter and cheese grew stronger. You started your tour by ordering two portions of the delectable street food which set you back considerably. But you were too elated to care. You refused Kyungsoo’s offer to pay as the woman set the scallops on fire with a blow torch.

“Do you know what that technique’s called?” Kyungsoo gave a little nod in the direction of the aflame food.

Another teachable moment.

You’d made a firm resolve to not let any of his condescension bog you down so with a sweet smile, you replied, “No, Chef. I do not.”

“Flambé. But minus the alcohol. Do you know how they manage that?”

The ahjumma came to your rescue and you jumped to collect the order. You could’ve sworn that you caught the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

***

The Market supposedly looked the same as it did fifty years ago and you quite enjoyed eating your way through it. The tour made your heart grapple with nostalgia even though your partner’s personality was akin to a mug of insipid coffee.

Although you’d spent only a little over a year with Choi Yoonsun, the goodbyes were long and hard. Some of the vendors squeezed you and Kyungsoo in heart wrenching hugs, the others gave you a little cash to help you through the transition and for some of the food, you paid in smiles and love.

After a gastronomic fiesta that entailed tteokbokki, pajeon (minus the ketchup - you did it Kyungsoo’s way), sashimi, kimbap, different types of banchan, a thousand more teachable moments, the both of you ended the day on a sweet note with hotteok.

The ahjussi wished you both luck, making you choke back tears.

Kyungsoo noticed.

“Are you…. Is the hotteok spicy? No, I mean it’s obviously not...erm”

The dam of your tears burst.

You were going to miss this place. Even the less appealing aspects of it. You were going to miss the kimbap unnie who greeted you with a hug everyday, also the snooty mandu ahjumma who could hardly stand the sight of you. You were even going to miss washing dishes in the winters with water that was supposed to be ice and the sweltering summers which had you sweating through every layer of clothing.

Hell, you were even going to miss Kyungsoo.

“No”, you sniffled, “No, no Chef, it’s nothing. Take care of yourself. As much as I’m glad that our fateful working relationship has met its rightful end, I truly, genuinely, wish you luck. And learn to smile more often, yeah?”

“Are you dying?” He gleamed.

“What? NO! What? You’re leaving. What is wrong with you?”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“You! You’re not coming with us to Gangnam!”

“Says who?”

“Your stupid face that looked like it was hit by a freight train when Imo broke the news last week!”

“I’m not leaving?” He mused.

“This is no time to joke, Chef. You are leaving!”

“Says who!”

“Your stu-”

“Stupid face? I wasn’t planning on leaving at all. I’ve even found myself a place close to the restaurant. Oh yeah, sorry for having misled you. It was really just - my stupid face.”

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bipabrena · 4 years ago

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Beneath x the x Ice (AO3 HisoIllu fic) Chapter 5

A fic where there’s more to Illumi than meets the eye. Hisoka goes to great lengths to help him realise he deserves better than the Zoldycks and being a puppet to his parents, even at the expense of their friendship. Slow-burn HisoIllu. Read the whole thing here.

Illumi stopped in his heel for a couple of seconds. He had to squint, to evaluate if the redhead that looked from side to side every now and then, leaning against the diner’s window, was Hisoka. His mouth formed a small “o”.

It really was.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, and approached him.

“Hisoka,” he called, halfway to the diner.

The redhead perked up, and looked at the direction the voice came from. He smiled as the assassin walked towards him.

“Illu ♥!”

The Zoldyck stopped, now face-to-face with the magician. He subtly scanned him from head-to-toe, even though he had already done that when walking to him. Hisoka was fashioning a teal cardigan with a grey sweater underneath, khaki pants, and a sage coloured scarf. His hair was layered down, and he wore no make-up.

“So,” Illumi broke the silence, “I take it you’re cold tonight.”

Hisoka’s shoulders shook in laughter. “I have no idea how you could tell. ♠”

Now it was the magician’s turn to eye the assassin. He fashioned the same clothing from lunch. His smile stretched.

“Hm?” Illumi inquired, noticing Hisoka’s foraging eyes.

“You’re looking lovely. You have an interesting fashion sense for an assassin, I must say. ♦”

“As do you,” Illumi replied. “You’re like a rainbow with all those colours on you.”

Hisoka was expecting the assassin to mention how he wasn’t wearing make-up, how his hair was down, or how he wasn’t dressed the way Illumi complained about days prior. Well, he was disappointed.

“Are we going to see the meteor shower here?” Illumi asked, knowing that a city was the worst place to see such an event due to the light pollution.

“Oh, you offend me, Illu. I’m not so cheap! ♠” he ran fingers through his hair, cheeky smile on his face. “I have a very nice night planned for us, you see. ♥”

“I understand,” Illumi replied. He enjoyed the way Hisoka looked right now. “I suppose I’ll allow you to lead the way.”

“Oh?” Hisoka brought his fist to his mouth, chuckling. “So, you’re a sub? ♦”

“What?” the assassin didn’t understand what he meant.

“Nothing,” Hisoka waved his hand with a grin, shrugging off his previous statement. If he had to explain the joke, it would obviously lose the humour. “Come on, Pacific Park is nearby. The meteor shower shouldn’t hit until midnight. ♣”

“What?” Illumi repeated.

Hisoka cast a backwards glance.

“That’s five hours, Hisoka. Why couldn’t we have met at nine as originally planned? Or ten?”

“I told you, Illu,” he smiled “I have a nice night planned for us. ♥”

Illumi blinked at him.

“Will you trust me? ♠”

“I’m hungry,” the assassin announced. “I skipped supper because of this, so food better be in your plans.”

Hisoka moaned, drawing the attention of people walking near-by. A mother tightened the grip on her daughter’s hand, walking faster to get away from the odd redhead.

Illumi seemed indifferent to yet another one of Hisoka's eccentric episodes.

Hisoka placed a hand on his chest. “You skipped supper for me?” He squinted his eyes in a long smile.

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Oh, Illu… ♥”

Illumi’s sight wandered, from side to side, eyeing every person walking past them. Two pedestrians, in particular, ogled Hisoka as if he were disgusting. For some reason, this upset Illumi.

“Are we leaving or not?” he asked.

“Yes, of course! ♥” Hisoka led the way.

Illumi followed. They walked for various minutes. The city lights gleamed their faces. They walked past people, pets, bars with neon signs—and during the entire trip, Illumi could see Hisoka talking.

He talked, and talked. He swirled his body, looked back at Illumi; always fashioning that cheeky smile. The Zoldyck followed Hisoka mindlessly, but he was, quite frankly, not listening to him. Then, they reached their destination. Pacific Park.

It was an amusement park located on the coast. It wasn’t large, but it was cosy, and housed very entertaining attractions. The most visually appealing ones, or, in other words, the first you would notice immediately, were the neon-lighted roller-coaster that whirled the park, and the Ferris wheel that sentinelled the ocean.

Hisoka was about to do a spectacular, charming introduction to the park, but Illumi beat him to it and spoke up first.

“Are we going to eat here?” Illumi asked.

Frankly, Hisoka wasn’t planning on taking Illumi to dine until ten. His original plan was to spend time together at the amusement park, ride some attractions, chat, attend one of the stage shows, to then dine at one of Illumi’s favourite restaurants. The final act of the night would be the meteor shower, which they would see on a lake five-miles from here.

He figured that, being isolated from the world as a child, Illumi was never taken to places like this. He thought it’d be interesting for the lonely assassin to experience it.

“Yes! ♥” Hisoka responded with pride. “But!” he emphasised, “not dinner per se, because first—"

“I don’t like this place,” Illumi decided.

“Sorry?” Hisoka didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“I don’t want to eat here. What was the plan? To eat, then ride something? I would get nauseous. Or to ride something, then eat? I don’t see the fun. This is not a nice place to eat. I would’ve much preferred a restaurant.”

Hisoka felt offended over Illumi’s critiquing of his plan. Why couldn��t the assassin not be dense for once, and allow things to flow?

“Now, Illu, don’t be impatient!” he rose a hand. “We will dine, at Mirazur to be precise. However, the reservation is at ten, and don’t you agree it would be fun to do something else first? This is a spectacular place! ♠”

The assassin looked around. “I don’t see the big deal,” he lied. The place looked gorgeous, and he enjoyed the visually appealing night-lights.

Hisoka bolted towards Illumi, positioning himself behind him. He gently grabbed his shoulders. “There’s a lot to do! There are these rides,” he pointed to the rollercoaster and Ferris wheel, then a pirate ship on the far left, “there’s a shooting range,” he pointed to the distant right. “There are stage-shows up ahead,” he pointed to the front.

He rested both hands on Illumi’s right shoulder, and leaned his chin on them. “It will be fun. I promise. ♥” He smiled.

Illumi pierced him with his large and impassive, black eyes. He wondered why Hisoka was so close to his face. “Okay.”

“Good! ♦” Hisoka clapped once. “Let me give you a tour, shall we? But,” he rose a finger, “let’s get ice-cream first.”

Illumi’s eyebrows rose. “Ice-cream?”

“Yes. ♥”

“I am okay with that,” Illumi approved.

He loved sweets. Being thoroughly denied them as a child, he developed an itching need to consume them often. He would take advantage of this.

They approached one of the ice-cream stands. It was massive. There were several people in-line, and Illumi wished he could stick his needles in them to make them leave. By the way the assassin observed them, Hisoka was able to deduce, immediately, his intentions. He smiled. Suddenly, Illumi felt a gentle touch on his wrist. He looked to his left, where Hisoka stood.

“Now, now, Illu… don’t try anything funny. We’re in public. ♠”

“Who are you to say that? You moan in public all the time.”

“Mm, but that’s not the same as trying to kill people. ♣”

How ironic of Hisoka, of all people, to say such a thing.

“I wasn’t planning on killing them,” Illumi muttered. “Just make them leave.”

The magician grazed his thumb over the assassin’s wrist, much to the latter’s discomfort. “You are very lucky to have me,” Hisoka stated proudly. “Don’t fear, Illu, I will teach you how to behave in public! ♠”

“Excuse you?” Illumi interjected. “I very well know how to behave in public. Who are you to—” he stopped in his tracks.

Hisoka narrowed his eyes with a long smile.

He’s just trying to rile you up. It takes two to tango.

“You are correct,” Illumi looked forward.

“Ah?” Hisoka’s smile reverted, puzzled.

“Yes,” Illumi responded, not making any sense.

Hisoka opened his mouth to say something, but his dense friend interjected.

“I will have three scoops, all different flavours,” he announced. “What will you have?” he looked at Hisoka.

Oh, this man was so endearing. Hisoka could barely contain himself.

“Oh, Illu… ♥” his smile stretched.

“Hello,” the female cashier greeted.

“Oh, hello,” Hisoka boldly leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. He bore a coquettish smile. “A banana split, no whipped cream. I want almonds for a topping. Please do sprinkle them everywhere. ♥”

Illumi caught the flustered look on the young cashier’s face. He supposed she wasn’t used to having such a charismatic, bold customer.

“And you, sir?” she looked at the assassin. His impossibly large, onyx eyes made her feel uneasy. He was quite attractive, but she’d rather look at the redhead that bore a much more inviting expression.

“I want a large ice-cream cone, three scoops. One cookies and cream, one caramel and one chocolate.”

The cashier nodded, smiling. She announced the price, and Illumi sought his wallet to pay for his snack.

Hisoka stopped him in his tracks. “How silly of me! ♠” he slapped his forehead. “Did I not mention I would be the one to pay, Illu ♥?”

While his intention was to be the same old-fashioned, quirky Hisoka, the cashier couldn’t help but believe these two were a couple.

Illumi spoke, as impassive as ever. “No, thanks, Hisoka. I’ll pay for my own." He was about to hand the money, but Hisoka held his hand and pulled it down.

“I insist. ♥” He purred.

That whispery, half-growl tone definitely stirred something strange in Illumi’s belly. Hisoka was weird…

“Oh, well,” Illumi shrugged, getting off the line. If he had free ice-cream, better for him.

He walked towards one of the nearest attractions. His eye shifted from the ride to the sign. It was called “King’s Dominion,” a 305 foot drop-tower with a 72mph descent.

Currently, people were mounting the ride. It would begin shortly.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and it was Hisoka, offering his ice-cream cone.

“Thanks,” Illumi muttered, eyes shifting back to the ride.

Hisoka noticed something curious. The more time passed, the more Illumi’s guard eased. Right now, he was alert enough to anticipate any sort of danger, but he was relaxed enough to enjoy his surroundings. In fact, he was so relaxed, he didn’t notice the way Hisoka was looking at him. Hisoka was fascinated, taking small spoons of his banana split.

He wasn’t paying attention to the crazy night-lights, the people screaming in near-by rides, or the people walking past them. His attention was, irrefutably, focused on no one but Illumi and Illumi alone.

The ride was about to commence. Illumi leaned forward expectantly.

“Illu,” Hisoka chuckled, “you haven’t tasted your ice-cream. ♦”

Illumi did not respond. He watched as the tower went up. He could see the people getting smaller and smaller, some wiggling their legs. His lips were parted, eager to find out what would happen next.

Hisoka never took his eyes off him.

The tower stopped. Faint “yeah”s and “whoo-s” could be heard from above.

Illumi quickly took a bite of his ice-cream, as to not miss a single second of what was about to occur. He licked his lips.

Hisoka was dying.

Then, screaming ensued. The tower dropped, and all Illumi could see was hands and feet wiggling in the air.

The ride stopped midway. The fascinated assassin gasped quietly.

Then, it went back up.

“Oh!” Illumi uttered, surprised.

It went back down. The motion was repeated three times, until the ride finally dropped for the last time, stopping. The riders unbuckled their belts, and ran to the exit, some quite tipsy.

Hisoka loved how disbelieving Illumi looked. In a way, he couldn’t understand how Illumi had never seen something like this before.

Illumi finally noticed the way Hisoka stared at him. He turned to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he smiled, taking a spoonful of his banana split. “You simply haven’t eaten your ice-cream yet. ♣”

“I took a bite,” Illumi refuted.

“Yes, but that’s not eating it. ♠” Hisoka repositioned his scarf. “It’s melting! ♥”

“Oh, yes,” Illumi agreed, looking at drops run down the cone. He licked the ice-cream, from the second scoop to the third. “That is very good,” he concluded.

“Yes, I can see… ♥” Hisoka hoped Illumi would continue doing such a gesture.

Illumi’s nose tickled. He inhaled, then sneezed gracefully. Hisoka couldn’t believe how he could look perfect doing even that. He felt something cold hit his shoes, and that’s when he saw Illumi’s ice-cream. The sudden movement made the scoops drop from the cone.

Illumi eyed it, and blinked. “Oh, no,” he stated, in the most monotone voice possible. He sounded robotic, and like he couldn't care less. But truly, he really was bummed his ice-cream fell. It was rather amusing to Hisoka how that hollow, robotic tone betrayed Illumi's words of despair.

“That’s okay,” he shook off his feet, ignoring what just happened. “I can get you another one. ♦”

“No, but thanks,” Illumi announced, throwing the cone in the stand’s trash can. “I would like to ride something now.”

Ride me. Hisoka thought. “Mm. Would you like to ride that one? ♥” he pointed at the drop-tower they just observed.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Okay,” Hisoka grabbed a large spoonful of his ice-cream, and offered it to Illumi. ”Here! ♥”

Illumi stared for a couple of seconds. “What are you doing?”

“Hm? I’m offering you a spoonful of my ice-cream. ♣”

“Yes, I can see,” Illumi looked at the spoon. “But why?” his eyes shifted back to the redhead.

“It’s ice-cream, Illu. You dropped yours, and sharing is caring. Why wouldn’t you want it ♥?” he chuckled.

Illumi blinked at him.

“It’s not poisoned… ♠”

“Yes, but you ate from that spoon,” Illumi remarked.

“Sorry?” Hisoka pulled the spoon away from him.

“You put your mouth there. Why would I eat from there?”

Hisoka’s lips parted. Was Illumi implying he disgusted him? He felt very offended, something he didn’t know was possible for someone like him.

“Can we ride the drop-tower now?” Illumi asked.

“Go ahead, I’ll watch from here,” Hisoka stated, looking forward at the ride, eating the rejected spoonful of ice-cream.

“You’re not coming?” Illumi inquired.

“Well, I did just say I’d watch from here. That means I won’t go, no?” he kept the spoon in his mouth for a couple of seconds.

Illumi only began to notice something was off. Hisoka was acting different, all the sudden.

“You’re acting strange,” Illumi stated matter-of-factly.

“Ah,” is all Hisoka responded. He still looked forward, avoiding Illumi’s gaze.

“Oh!” the assassin brought his fist to his palm, believing he figured out what changed Hisoka’s mood. “I splattered ice-cream on your shoes. Is that why?”

Hisoka finally looked at him, lips pursed in annoyance. Illumi gazed at him expectantly, to which Hisoka could only laugh. Laugh at Illumi’s denseness, laugh at himself for feeling offended; laugh at how Illumi was making this night not-too-easy to enjoy the way Hisoka expected. It would be a waste of time trying to explain the simple-minded assassin why the magician felt offended to begin with.

“I haven’t finished this glorious treat, Illu, ♥” Hisoka chuckled, in attempts to lighten the mood again. “I can’t ride while eating it.”

“Oh,” Illumi felt silly for believing something was wrong to begin with. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Are you sure? ♦” the magician inquired.

“Yes.”

He waited in silence as Hisoka took his time eating his ice-cream. He was almost done, now eating the bananas. They watched a second round from the attraction.

“Okay. ♥” Hisoka threw the empty container.

They waited in line. Hisoka peeked at Illumi, who was blankly looking forward. He broke the silence by chuckling, drawing the assassin’s attention.

He tried to softly run fingers through Illumi’s hair, but the latter pulled back before he could touch him.

Oh, Illu… why must you make this so difficult? “You should tie your hair, otherwise it’ll be rather uncomfortable. ♣”

“Oh,” Illumi muttered. “I didn’t bring a hair-tie.”

“What about your needles? ♦”

“They’re a bother to tie my hair with,” he brought his hair up and gathered it around itself to make a bun. "But I suppose I've no other choice," he kept it in place with two needles.

He looked intimidating, but in an enigmatic, attractive way. And Hisoka loved it.

“Mm. Scary. ♥” Hisoka purred, observing him intently.

There it was again. That tone, and the slight narrowing of Hisoka’s golden eyes. It stirred something in Illumi, something he couldn’t identify. A strange, warm feeling.

They were next.

Hisoka was incredibly excited, hoping that the vertigo would produce an expression in Illumi. Oh, he couldn’t wait!

They sat next to each other and buckled their belts, waiting for everyone else to accommodate. Hisoka looked like an excited child, which Illumi found amusing. Could he blame him, though? The assassin felt a dull hint of excitement himself.

They went up.

Hisoka held Illumi’s hand, and rose his arm. Illumi immediately pulled it back. “What are you doing?”

“Put your hands up, Illu! ♥” Hisoka smiled. “It makes it more fun,” He insisted, grabbing his hand again.

Hisoka’s long, slender fingers felt warm and delicate wrapped around Illumi’s. It was odd to the assassin how these deadly fingers capable of crushing bone and stone could feel so… inviting.

He complied.

The ride, now at the top, remained still for five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Illumi heard piercing screams, and wind abruptly hit his face. A tingly sensation overcame his stomach, but his expression remained the same. It felt similar to when he jumped off a building. He suddenly felt squeezing in his hand, and recalled Hisoka was holding it. He turned to look at the redhead, and found a strange child-like innocence in him.

Hisoka bore a huge grin, his scarf flew up his face. He swung his legs, yelling “whoo-s". He looked relaxed, and happy. Illumi found it strange, but endearing. He found himself, reflexively, squeezing his hand back. Had you asked Illumi why he did it, he wouldn’t know what to reply. His answer would simply be “because it felt right.”

Read the rest of the chapter here.

#hisoillu #hisoka x illumi #Hisoka #illumi #hxh

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theadorablespderman · 6 years ago

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Everything to love about Far From Home not in this order:

Literally seeing that opening with all our loved avengers that are no more.

Whitney Houston “I will always love you” made me cry because damnit Tony’s face was right THERE! NOT OK!

The blip footage was pretty damn funny not gonna lie.

Peter’s cute ass plan to tell MJ how he feels.

MJ’s favorite flower being a Black Dalia because of the murder. Literally a girl I can relate too. Murderinos for life sister. Idk but it just made her sooo relatable!

The fact that Brad is a kid grown up from the blip and that made him seem all the weirder for MJ.

Jealous Peter was so freaking amazing! Oh my gosh! That face he’d get. I’m a sucker for jealousy and they did it so good.

Making MJ this awesome character she was before but also obviously has this softer layer where she does have flaws and insecurities and she’s really sweet but also so badass. That was amazing.

The starting relationship between Peter and Beck. It was cute and so I was sad knowing that Beck was somehow going to be the villain.

Also let’s talk about how Beck is basically Syndrom from the incredibles.

That scene with Peter and Brad....the pure terror when he snapped that picture

Also seeing how big of a dick Brad is and how unhealthy jealous he was.

“Nick Fury” getting ghosted, showing up in Venice, tranquilising Ned (don’t touch him you monster) and then promptly highjacking Peters Summer trip.

Showing the emotional trama Peter is going through. The anxiety, the greiving. It was very reminiscent of Iron Man 3 when Tony suffers from PTSD after the battle of New York. I loved that they showed Peter reacting as any kid would, many adults too, which is to just try and forget anything happened but being faced with the reality every day. So well done.

Happy and May’s relationship. Enough said 😂😂

I feel cheated we didn’t see Mr delmore again.

Addressing all the problems the Blip/Snap created. High school aging, school, drinking ages, homelessness and housing issues. That’s just the start of it I’m sure but they covered those pretty well and I love that.

The technology that made Beck into Misterio was so well done. Instead of some frankly, kinda far fetched story that he came from an alternate earth (which I was willing to believe but felt it was a cop out in terms of plot and character) they showed the real world issues that superhero’s can create. The Enemies that have a real deep rooted hatred for hero because they’ve personally been betrayed or wronged by them. Because marvel has always made clear, everyone is not on the hero’s side.

Steeping Misterio’s powers in tech which is classing marvel but again, so brilliantly done in this movie. I loved the development. Because at first glance, half way through, I was thinking “wow this is really kinda weird and unexplained and too witchcraft for what marvel usually brings to the superpower backstory” I know it’s weird to say after everything marvel has done. But it seemed just a tad out there without being too hard to grasp. Which again was brilliantly done because that was the whole point.

The nod to Misterio’s helmet even when Beck was in the hologram suit watching everything play out. I guess it was his screen? But I loved the staple of even without his big over the top suit he still had the trademark helmet. Great costume design.

Peter’s soft gazes towards MJ. Nearly gave me a cavity they were so sweet! Ahhh sooo cute

Mr. Harrington’s marital problems nearly made me pee my pants....we all knew here in the fandom that shit like that would half to happen but my god lol

The opera scene was sooo freakin cute and that one step Peter took when he saw Brad move in was so freaking cute and hot!

MJ running after him and finding the critical peice of information to crack the case wide open. Loved it.

Betty and Ned’s Sicily sweet romance that you knew couldn’t possibly last. They really nailed the realistic high school romance. But I still ship it.

The bus scene was epic. And when Peter knocked Flash out...god it was amazing.

Mj obviously having love eyes towards Peter same as he does for her.

THE FACT THAT HE ACTUALLY BOUGHT THAT NECKLACE FOR HER OH MY GOD! I CANT GET A GUY TO TEXT ME BACJ LET ALONE BUY A NECKLACE LIKE THAT WHICH PROBABALY COST A GOOD CHUNK OF CHANGE IT WAS SO FREAKING AMAZING AND CUTE AND TOUCHING.

All the iron man images got me feeling depressed as hell

“are you being serious because I was only like 67% sure?” That was amazing. Seeing MJ get so excited and trying to keep that hidden was awesome

The fact that she was so pleased with herself but also played it hella cool when Ned walked in and she said she figured it out. Literally that is me.

The shirtless Peter trope that we all wanted and freaking got! So freaking cute how she tried to peak at his abs. Like understandable girl.

The fucking illusions. Turning our sweet trusting Peter into a ball of mess. I was too.

God when he had to tell himself it wasn’t real but it still totally feels like it is.

Him trying to save MJ when she’s “thrown off the Eiffel Tower”

Every traumatizing thing Beck shows and tells him during the illusion. So shitty.

Seeing Tony’s grave, seeing iron man come out. That was awful and we all felt it in the movie because we’ve lost him too. We could FEEL that slap same as Peter.

Beck telling Peter that Tony’s death was his fault. I was abouta hurl myself at the movie screen.

Every illusion done in a way that just when you think it’s over, it’s never stopped. You forget what’s real and you feel trapped in it same as Peter does.

WHEN HE GETS HIT BY THE TRAIN!!!!!!!!!! Nearly had a damn heart attack!!!! My mom had to look over and ask if I was ok because I literally stopped breathing for a solid 30 seconds.

Showing gradually just how insane and evil Misterio was.

HAPPY BEING CONCERNED FOR PETER! LIKE SINCERELY AND HONESTLY CONCERNED! It’s good to know he’s got Happy to take care of him and May but that Peter still has a father type figure he can count on after Tony. Because you know Tony wouldn’t have put up with any of that getting hit by a train shit.

Also where the hell was Karen? We missed her. We got Edith but Karen wouldn’t have let Misterio take her over. WHERE WAS KAREN!!

Peter crying and needing to know Happy was real. Broke me heart

That hug between them was so sweet and you can see the concern on Happy’s face

Happy and Peter opening up to each other was so awesome considering their relationship in Homecoming.

ALL THE TONY and PETER PARRELLS! All of them!!!!!!!!! Not the people saying “Spider-Man’s the next Ironman” no the actual hints and glimpses at how similar him and tony actually are. The hologram gauntlet shot, a straight parallel to Iron Man when Tony is building his first real suit. Obviously “Back in Black” by Led Zeplen (formally known as AC/DC) playing. Another obvious hint toward Tony. The Stark sunglasses. Peter falling with the parachute and it literally looks like Ironman with his jet stream behind him from a distance. There’s so much more I’ll do a whole other post on.

Of course: “I love Led Zeplin!” Hahaha it’s such a kid thing to say! I’ve said it before I knew the big differences between AC/DC and Led Zeplin. It was so freaking perfect.

Peter making his suit and Happy’s face. Bittersweet and I live for the affection he holds for Peter now.

The Netherlands Holding cell...must I say more?

Brad’s downfall and MJs amazing comment about him taking pictures of people in the bathroom. Ep-ic. Even flash was like “bro that’s so weird”

Mr. witchcraft was hilarious and I loved his aside with Brad “I’m gonna be the cool teacher and tell you you can’t do that anymore.”

Flash is definately Gay or Bi and I’m so here for it. That wink he makes to Peter proves it.

All the near death truths in the vault of the tower.

MJ BADDASS COMES SWINGING WITH THE MACE AND IT WAS LEGINDARY OH MY GOD! YES GIRL! She’s my idol I love her so much.

Peter and his “Peter Tingle” And while we’re on the subject the banana he gets to the face while packing.

Important. His amazing skills at the end trusting his instincts (which is great because May says in regards to MJ, but it applies to this too) May tells Peter to trust his instincts and don’t think too much. And that’s what he does when he defeats Beck.

The bad ass “you can’t fool me anymore” after redirecting the gun away from his head at the end. Literally was so intense and well done.

Peter and MJ’s kisses! I loved how awkward it was at first and the slightly less awkward one. They really accurately captured the awkwardness of teenagers in love. Like that’s what it’s like guys.

Show me MJ’s parents you cowards, or show me something. Anything. I just want to know the nature of the situation.

Ned and Betty’s breakup. So funny and honestly not surprising at all. But still I ship them.

The hand hold. So cute.

May and Peter still being the cutest aunt and nephew duo there ever was.

I totally thought Peter was going to end with telling the world he was spiderman....BUT SOME OTHER ASSHOLES DID IT FOR HIM AND MADE HIM INTO A VILLAN AND IM PISSED. LOOKING AT YOU MR JAMESON YOU PEICE OF SHIT.

The movie ended and I have no idea what’s next.

Mid credit of MJ swinging through New York. Home girl doesn’t like and neither do I. Looks full on terrifying we don’t blame you hun.

After credit where the skrulls have been playing Maria and Nick fury for the whole movie. Honestly it made more sense because Nick fury seemed just a bit off. ALSO WHERE IS THE REAL NICK FURY at and I’m so psyched to see where this new movies are gonna go!

Alright that all for now folks!!!! Everything about the movie was great!!! I will have to watch again ad see if anything more pops up. Sorry for any spelling errors I’m on my phone.

#peter parker #marvel #spiderman #mcu #michelle jones #spideychelle #spider-man #spider-man: homecoming #avengers #tony stark #ned leeds #spiderman far from home #spider man: far from home #far from home spoilers #spoilers

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allie-and-her-fandoms · 5 years ago

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The Days Spent With You

A/N: Hey guys! I am back with some good stuff. This fic was written in order to celebrate the Fairy Tail Reverse Bang hosted by @ftguildevents, featuring our favorite Fire Dragon Slayer and his Dragon dad. For this fic, I had the honor to be partnered up with the amazing @jinx13gxa, whose gorgeous fanart you can see right HERE! Without any further ado, enjoy (or endure)!

The pearl moonlight was dancing around the buildings of Hargeon, as the people wandering on the streets were bathing underneath it. Every breath, every step, every move of theirs was slow, their scents mixed in the sea of life drowning the city. The aroma of the carpet of flowers and perfectly riped fruits was intertwined with that of the freshly burned incense, melting through the air as the seconds went by.

But there was one certain scent that caught the attention of a pink-haired young man, whose neck snapped when his nose picked up the redolence that reminded him of the past, the first home he remembered, and the one father figure he searched for years.

Natsu’s footsteps quickened, and he shortly found himself sprinting among people and uttering brief apologies, as he kept sniffing the air for the one fragrance that picked up his nostrils moments ago.

“It’s you… I know it’s you… I finally found you…” he panted, as the trail lead him closer to the owner of the scent.

When he finally found the owner, his eyes widened. The appearance of the one in front of him was conflicting to the memories he held of Igneel, but Natsu’s eyes were analyzing the man he has been chasing.

A golden slim crown with a ruby in the middle was adorning his head, and garnet hair was kept in a high messy ponytail. But the one detail that caught the attention of the pink-haired boy was the reverse cross-shaped scar above the right eye, rupturing the tanned skin of his objective. It was him.

“Igneel!” Natsu yelled, taking frantic steps towards the individual, who got startled by hearing the name. The man’s eyes opened wide as he spotted ruffled pink hair and a white scale-like scarf. It was him. Without thinking further, he then opened up his arms, waiting to hold his son. Natsu found himself increasing the pace at the sight.

As soon as he got in front of the man, Natsu halted for a split second, and then jumped into the open arms of his foster father, which then drew him closer.

“You have grown so much,” Igneel’s harsh voice retorted.

“Well, I had to keep up with you,” Natsu grinned, finally breaking away from Igneel’s embrace. The latter found himself roaring of amusement, slamming Natsu’s back and making him take a step further.

“I see you’re still as strong as I remember,” Natsu remarked, straightening his back.

“I am a dragon, after all. We can’t not be strong,” Igneel grinned, catching a glimpse of Natsu’s forming frown. “What happened?”

“You are a dragon, but… how did you become a human? Can all dragons do that? How long can you stay like this?” Natsu questioned him, the frown on the Dragon Slayer’s face deepening. Igneel let out a loud sigh.

“I see you have forgotten about this. How about I refresh your memory while we get something nice to eat? I am so famished, I could eat a mountain!” he replied, as Natsu nodded and led the way to his favorite restaurant, their mingled voices filling up the silence of the night.

---

“And everyone is really strong! They might look like a bunch of crazy people from the outside, but they’re all nice people,” Natsu concluded his description of his guildmates, as he bit into a huge chunk of meat, tilting his head backwards and ripping a piece of it. Igneel chuckled, as he followed suit with his own dinner.

“Understandable. Your comrades do sound like quite a piece of work. But as long as they are strong, they will be alright.”

“Yeah…” Natsu’s bites became slower, a frown leaving its shadow on his face.

“Natsu, are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m perfectly fine, Igneel. It’s just…” his words stopped. Igneel put his hand on Natsu’s shoulders and gripped it softly; one of the ways his father would tell him “It’s alright, you know you can tell me,” without using words.

“I just can’t believe I finally found you after all these 7 years. You really are here,” Natsu’s last words came out as a whisper.

“I feel the same way,” Igneel replied. “I do not understand exactly the way we got separated, but right now, all that matters is that I finally found you again,” he continued, smiles tracing his and Natsu’s faces. “We will recover the days that we lost being apart.”

“That’s right, Igneel. You know what, how about we fight right now? My comrades are strong, but so am I right now,” Natsu grinned, as he flexed his right arm, his left hand gripping his bicep.

“Let’s not do it in a restaurant. Besides, we will have plenty of time to spar after we get to your place.”“Alright, fine. But you promise we get to fight when we arrive in Magnolia?” Natsu asked, his hopeful eyes fixing Igneel.

“As much as you want. I really want to see how strong you’ve become myself,” the Fire Dragon King nodded, earning a smile from his son.

After the bill got paid (Igneel ended up paying, as Natsu didn’t have enough Jewels at him, much to the Dragon’s chagrin), the two of them headed towards the exit, laughing side by side and being engulfed by the blinding light outside as the door opened.

------

Natsu woke up with a jolt so strong, he fell from his hammock where he fell asleep a few hours ago, after another successful training session with Happy. His dream seemed so real… By instinct, his hand found its way to the scarf resting around his neck, and rested it on top of the white scales adorning the precious memento, occasionally brushing his fingers against them. What a nice dream it was…

Natsu then stood up, noticed that Happy was still sound asleep after their training, and left the hut that he shared with his Exceed friend. His feet carried him to the edge of the cliff, where he sat down so he could see the whole city. The December snow had covered Magnolia with a generous layer, the light of the moon reflecting on the freshly fallen white mirror. And once again, Natsu’s mind began wandering at the thought of the one he called his dad, recollections circulating across his memory.

(Flashbacks)

---

“Dad! Dad! Look, I wrote something for miss Anna’s birthday!” a tiny Natsu yelled towards his dragon father figure, an enormous grin lighting up his face.

“Oh? Let me read that…” Igneel tilted his head down to read the words better. “What in the word did you just write?” his voice boomed, as shock and frustration started veiling his face.

“What do you mean? I wrote ‘Happy Birthday, Anna!’; isn’t it amazing?!” Natsu puffed, as the words ‘Hippy Had Ray Banana’ formed minuscule trenches in the mud.

“It’s all wrong! Try that again!”

“What is wrong with it?! I spelled everything just fine!” the tiny Dragon Slayer shrieked, confronting his father’s condenscending glare.

“You spelled nothing well! Again!” Igneel roared, as he puffed in front of Natsu’s face, sending a cloud of steam his way.

---

“Dad! Look what I learned to do today!” Natsu beamed, waving both his hands towards Igneel, who was about to land on the top of the rocky canyon.

“Oh?” Curiosity now adorned Igneel’s face, his eyes now fixed on Natsu.

“Look! Fire Dragon’s Talons!” Natsu yelled, as his flaming right foot made contact with a boulder about his own size, turning it into a pile of pebbles of various sizes. “How did you like that?”

“It’s pretty good, if you wanna kick some rascal’s butt,” Igneel replied, earning a look of dismay from the pink-haired boy.

“EEEEEH?! Well, how about this?!” Natsu ran towards a boulder twice the size of the one he had crushed moments ago, as he lashed out at it, his fiery right fist in the air. “Fire Dragon’s Iron Fist!” The impact caused the massive stone to crack in the place his fist met its uneven surface, followed by a wince. “Ow, ow, ow! You stupid boulder! You’re gonna pay for this!” Natsu jumped in pain, shaking his hurting fist. Seconds later, he was landing fists and kicks randomly, leaving minuscule fissures behind.

“You’re doing this all wrong; when you try to land a hit on something, you have to focus on one point, and one point only. Somewhere your opponent isn’t as tough. Like this,” Igneel explained, Natsu’s expressions reflecting the focus he was showing towards his dad. They both headed towards a 20-meter-tall rock. “Fire Dragon’s Iron Fist!” The roar of the Fire Dragon King resounded through the sky, his fist gifting the massive boulder the form of a pebble rain.

“Amazing!” Natsu beamed, his eyes following now the falling drops of rock. “Yush! I’m gonna train even harder, so I’ll be able to crush boulders as big as you, Dad!” he rocked on his heels, his left fist raising to pierce the azure lying above them.

Igneel’s boisterous laugh filled up the skies, as his scaled hand ruffled Natsu’s rose hair, followed by the boy’s own chuckles. “I know you will, Natsu. I know you will.”

---

Quick pants broke the silence of the night, as Natsu jolted out of his minuscule bed, trying to recover himself from the images that his brain projected in his sleep. Shortly after, he saw Igneel sniff the air quickly for a few times, open his eyes and turn his head towards him.

“Nightmare?” he asked, a shade of worry covering the tone of his voice.

Natsu nodded. “I saw… a huge fire. And then… people… started screaming. And then… they were all gone… behind the flames.” Natsu shared his nightmare, his tiny body and voice trembling at the rememberance of the horrid images.

“Come here, then,” Igneel patted the ground next to him with the back of one of his claws, as Natsu quickly crawled his way to his father, leaning his head against Igneel’s scarlet scales. After a few seconds of unyielded silence, Igneel shattered it. “Natsu, wanna see a tiny trick?”

Natsu nodded frantically, an enormous grin lighting up his face. When he saw Natsu’s frenetic response, Igneel chuckled, and let out a hoarse whisper, unintelligible words filling the black above them. He then clapped his fingers, gold sparkles falling in a gentle golden rain. After that, the dragon let out a miniature version of his mighty roar towards the sparkles, turning them into flame figures, from mere fireballs, to majestic fire flowers, whipping the air around them.

“Now you won’t have those nasty nightmares again. As long as you remember these flames, they’ll never disturb you again,” Igneel explained, and Natsu nodded, still mesmerized by the show he had witnessed. “Well now, I think it’s now time we went back to sleep. We have a big day ahead!” He let his head down and closed his eyes, but not before feeling a tiny body press itself against his arm, hearing a content sigh. Satisfied with the outcome, Igneel finally let sleep catch up to him, because he had made sure that Natsu wouldn’t have to be haunted by the ghosts of his past ever again.

(End of Flashbacks)

---

As the moon shared its gentle light with the earth, Natsu’s eyes found their way to the celestial ball of light, waltzing alonside its petite shimmering companions on the dance floor of the lead-like sky. His fingers once again found themselves sliding against the ivory scales.

Waves of thoughts rose from the Dragon Slayer’s sea of thoughts. If he won the S-Class Exam, he would become an S-Class Mage. An S-Class Mage could take jobs on more interesting locations, filled with the perfume of the unknown. New places meant more people to meet and maybe, more clues leading to HIM.

Those waves ended up clashing against the cliff of reality however, as Happy announced it was dinner time. When asked what was wrong, Natsu’s only reply was “My time has finally come. I will become an S-Class Mage, no matter what,” earning an approving ‘Aye!’ from his partner.

“I promise you, I will become strong. And then I will find you, and show you everything I learned. Wait for me, Dad,” Natsu thought to himself, before he stood up and headed towards the place he called his home, reminiscing about the fire spectacle that shunned his nightmares all those years ago.

#ftrb2020 #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #igneel #my writing #please go give jinx some love she's awesome

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soranihimawari · 4 years ago

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...Chimera & Jackal...

@m0nstergeneration20xx & @sakuric bc my brain said let’s do a sakusa story at midnight.

There is an album in your gym neighbor’s hands. He is clutching on to it like a landline; there is an audible hum rising around him and the scowl he wears deepens.

“If you stare long enough you might turn to stone.”

Your voice crescendos around his aura and he finds himself visibly relaxing. You’ve been in enough classes with him to know the visible signs of a sensory overload break coming through, so you walk toward the information desk in the concourse you’re in, passing the venue banner. you maneuver through the crowd like the worker bee and pretty soon, he understands what you were doing.

When you reach the other side of the concourse, you turn around with an approving bop of your head when your eyes meet. You flash a toothy grin at him and he momentarily blinks. The hands on the album becomes ironclad as he begins the arduous journey to meet you.

“Miss me already?” you chuckle at the way his brow furrows when his cousin snickers at the way you’re slowly changing each other for the better. You let the cousins know you’re heading out after Komori suggests you join them for dinner at the family estate.

“It’ll be fun. It’s scrabble night,” komori informs you. His cousin on the other hand, yells through his eyes at his ex-captain. You entertain the idea of attending, but at the same time, you are considerate to the pillar who seems like he’s about to die of you accept, so you do what you do best: you say a word which is recognized with the scrabble dictionary.

“Adipopexia,” you say the word with ease. Your tone is warm and vibrant, thus causing a small change in tone. You don’t know what kind of game Komori is playing, but you feel he loves to make his cousin a little more accepting of the general public.

“If you’ll excuse me boys, I have a meeting with my thesis sponsor. Text me later if you need me!”

What you don’t see if the way Komori chuckles at how flushed his cousin’s cheekbones turn as you wave from across the promenade on your way to the liberal arts office building.

☆+ ﾟ. ꕤ.+ .ﾟ*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ♡｡. +ﾟ｡

A month passes and finally you stare at the giant iron gate in front of the largest estate you have ever seen. You had half a mind that this was a prank and the tiny houses in the surrounding neighborhood was where the Sakusa/Komori residence truly was. Then you decide to take out your phone from your purse thereby tempting fate when you press the sequence of digits both of them send you (the first time, you thought Komori was really joking, but when your phone receives a confirmation from the other, you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.)

Currently, it is eleven thirty on a Saturday morning. You mutter a curse as the gates truly do open before you and you follow the path through the front lawn. In your hand, you hold a congratulatory card for your fellow (thesis candidate partner) classmate after news traveled he was signed to a professional team. An accidental panic sets in because of your simplistic style choice of tapered indigo pants and graphic tee (paired with ballet flats). Your hair was pulled back into place with a banana clip, so you weren’t expecting the house door to be answered by a professional housekeeper whom you mistake for a family member.

“Who are you?” Her voice is a mixture of annoyance and false kindness.

“I’m a friend of Komori and Sakusa? From the university down the road...?”

Invoking the name of the young men of the house did not dwell well with this lady. You were still denied entry, so you apologize a first time after the third attempt. You extend the card in your hand sighing with as you turn on your heels to leave the premises leaving it in her care.

Inside, the first floor is filled with a few sponsors along with fellow members of the team are seen conversing with their new player who remains oblivious to your sauntering off his father’s home. Komori sees the house keeper holding a card which she is abut to place in the recycle bin, he asks her why she turned away the celebrant’s friend at the door. He takes the card from her and works his way to where his cousin stands in his business-casual attire.

“Excuse me,” Komori interjects. “I need to borrow Omi, for a second.” He explains what happened on the way to the garage entrance reassuring him he’ll bring you back and clear up the misunderstanding.

“In the mean time, you should read the card they got you, ‘Snake-Eyes.’”

Sakusa Kiyoomi only allowed one person to call him that when they met him on orientation day; they were the same one who taught him what adipopexia meant. And when his phone rings, Sakusa hears your voice through the receiver.

“I’m with Komori-San right now, but he wanted me to tel you our eta is ten minutes. Is that ok with you?”

That question was the first easily answered one in a long time for him.

When Komori walks back into the main house, you have to do a double take. You’re a few paces behind him before you hear a rather rambunctious group of voices around the corner.

“Komori! There you are! We were looking for you,” his aunt greets. “Seems like you forgot to introduce us to your friend there.”

You straighten your back and relax your shoulders a bit before sticking out your hand which goes unshaken, so you smile as you play with your own wrist.

“My classmates call me Chi.”

“Ah like the auras?”

You walk past her after Komori stares at his parent for their rudeness. Sakusa and the other players see you and judging by the angered expression on his face, you weren’t going to back away from this woman.

“Mother, please. Not now.”

“My name is Chi, ma’am. It’s short for Chimera, the Greek monsters which breathe fire and traditonally are depicted in the arts with a lion’s head, goat’s body, and serpent tale.”

Sakusa looks to Komori who just shrugs it off like it’s the best damn thing he heard all week.

“You’re a rude little thing, aren’t you?” she seethes as you keep your composure. “Where did you learn to speak like this to someone above your station?”

“The moment you brought down the collective intelligence quotient of the entire neighborhood ma’am. Maybe we’ll meet again on scrabble night when you’re done day drinking to your success.”

Komori has a hard time keeping a straight face while Sakusa’s expression is hard to read, you could tell he was trying not to chuckle at your clever wit.

“I should of recorded that,” Komori says. “It’s about time someone else put that woman in her place.”

“Your mother is wild,” you chide. “Is that why you asked me to come to scrabble night?”

“Nah,” Komori answers. “I was just tired of hearing Omi talk about you like you’re the only one he cannot function properly around.”

“I like him too,” you say as Sakusa starts walking toward you with the newer members of the MSBY team. Everyone on the rookie and senior roster were eager to introduce themselves to the outspoken student with a mighty name.

☆+ ﾟ. ꕤ.+ .ﾟ*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ♡｡. +ﾟ｡

You don’t often find yourself inside the MSBY training grounds, but this was at the request of the captain and the manager. Apparently their starting setter called out Sakusa for not being able to hit his sets and somehow that spiraled into the two of them not syncing up the rest of practice. From what you gather with the information presented, you knew the setter would bounce back first the following day, but Sakusa, who still keeps mostly to himself, does not budge. He elected to stay behind for a little while after to collect his thoughts.

You are given a family and friends badge to clip on the collar of your jersey styled dress (you had a dissertation presentation to attend earlier that day, so here you arrive with a metallic jumpsuit and jacket). You sent a text to Sakusa’s phone letting him know you were invited to come. You hear the rhythmical combination of plays being made in center court. You arrive in time to see your classmate nail an close cross-shot with a loud thwack!

Presently Sakusa walks side by side with you back toward his apartment. You think nothing of it when you ask him to come inside when you reach the fancy building in this district. You listen to him complain about everyone including the damning things Miya had said to him during practice. You figured you let him vent as you were recently still getting better acquainted outside of academia as a whole. You switch the conversation topic to a foolish once:“Mmhm,” you muse. “You do like my company Omi.”

Instead of a proper answer, Sakusa Kiyoomi opens the door of his home behind you as you step back into his home. It takes an insane amount of control on both of your parts before you see the athlete pull down his mask to finally act out what he was feeling since he had properly been introduced to you on campus in your joint third semester. His lips touch your Cupid’s bow first because of your height difference, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

“Care to do that again?” He asks you in a playfully menacing way.

His bag lands in the floor prior to leaning forward again and he drops his center of gravity as though he’s about to receive a serve from his captain.

“Sakusa, I swear to you if I—ack!”

The surprise lift he has you secured in was irratic on it’s on accord, but when you adjust your arms and place them against his shoulders, Sakusa nearly growls at the contact.

“My lips are right here,” you chide. Tilting your face to your left, Sakusa manages to successfully kiss you this time.

First kisses are a difficult thing for anyone to navigate, yet there is a veil of innocence surrounding you both since you teach him that showing displays of affection is a love language you are fluent in and his, on the other hand, is touching the subject of desire aka you. And so one kiss turned to two, which turned to three as you let him walk you to the kitchen that has an island counter and he tells you to sit still for a moment.

“You’re being awfully affectionate today,” he tells you this in confidence. You sit atop the granite surface expecting him to kiss you senseless, which he does the moment your hands bring him down to press chaste kisses up and down your collar bone.

You accidentally moan his name into his ear when his nose tickles the nape of yours neck.

“I’ll kiss you for real princex,” the slight growl is there again. “I’ll kiss you until you’re breathing stops.”

If anything, you relearn a few things: one, Sakusa Kiyoomi comes from a successful family; two, he’s insanely dedicated to playing volleyball ; and right now, he’s thoroughly enjoying kissing you in the comfort of his own home.

“Sakusa, is~ahh~ are you formerly asking me to be your lover right now?”

Sakusa pauses his onslaught of wanting to mark you with his lips for a moment, so he nods sheepishly. Your smile is radiant the moment you accept his proposal he almost loses his composure entirely. There is time for that too, but for now being drunk in love in his kitchen is a good start.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora scribbles #🌻.txt #sora after hours #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa scenarios #msby signing party shenanigans

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jaspers-levis · 5 years ago

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Episode Ten

Tw: cursing, violence

Episode Ten: Just In Case

The rest of the hike that day was uneventful, although later that night in bed listening to the rain pour over your roof you replayed each smoldering glance, each casual contact of your hands. The impossible heat of his skin. The way he smelled of soap and a subtle earthiness you were halfway certain came from the wolf within. The way he showered you with playful affection, though it was clear at moments he was restraining himself from overwhelming you. As you fell asleep, you felt giddy with the idea of pushing him the next time he barely held back from kissing you.

Early morning light flooded your bedroom with a muted glow, waking you gently. You stretched lazily, contemplating the errands you needed to get done today and trying to gather up the energy to go into town and talk to other human beings. It probably wasn’t healthy to spend quite so much time alone in the woods… but then again you now had a new pack of friends. Technically you weren’t spending ALL of your time alone anymore.

Either way, it was still a pain in the ass to get yourself up, dressed and into your little-used car to drive into Forks for some groceries and to check the mail. You never used your actual mailbox in front of your house, preferring to use a PO Box just in case your ex got smart and figured out how to track you somehow. Honestly, you really doubted he would ever be that smart but it was another layer of protection. Just in case.

Walking into the grocery store, you pulled out a cart and began to shop with your headphones in. Apples, bananas, oh, blueberries were on sale, broccoli, kale, a bag of potatoes, loaf of bread, should I get donuts? Nah. Box of macaroni, bag of rice, can of beans. Maybe Mexican burrito bowls tonight? Package of chicken, tray of chuck roast--a familiar masculine scent cut through the typical disinfectant and food smells of the grocery store.

Your blood ran cold.

Frozen, you slowly turned, expecting to see a tall, dark shadow behind you.

Only an elderly man in his electric scooter patiently making his way around a display.

Your heart slamming against your ribs, you tossed the package of meat into your cart and rapidly finished shopping, opting for self check out rather than waiting in agony for the cashier to scan each item piece by piece. Practically running to your car, you chucked everything in in record time and sped over to the post office, checking your rearview mirror every three seconds for his car. Parking as close to the door as you could, you sprinted into the post office and snatched your mail out of the PO Box. You chucked it into your passenger seat, determining it was probably safer to sort through the contents at home rather than wait around for him to find you. Just in case.

You pulled onto the road that lead back to home, the dark pines lining the road reminding you of a strong embrace welcoming you back home. Breathing a little easier now that you were out of town, you checked your rearview mirror and saw an unfamiliar car with tinted windows and a rental license plate about a quarter mile back. No big deal, tourists went to the reservation all the time. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

It was a lot harder to convince yourself when the car turned onto the same roads as you, growing closer and closer.

Immediately you grabbed your phone and dialed Paul’s number without a second’s hesitation. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” he answered, sounding happy you’d called.

“Paul,” you whimpered, glancing at your review mirror to see that the car was only a few car lengths behind you. “I think my ex is following me. I thought I smelled his cologne in the grocery store, and now a black car is following me and I don’t know what to do--I’m scared.”

“Y/N, go to Emily’s, do NOT go home,” Paul ordered, his voice completely calm. An undercurrent of dark glee colored his next words. “I’ll deal with him. See you in a few.”

Hands shaking, you hung up and kept driving past the turn off to your house. You made it to Emily’s in what felt like record time, parking in one of the few spots available. Paul was standing outside, leaning against the rough hewn wood of the walls and he caught you as you threw yourself out of your car and into his arms. “Hush, babe, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he murmured into your hair, holding you tight for a second in the fortress of his embrace. He would never let anything happen to you, you reassured yourself.

Dread pooled in your stomach as the crunch of gravel signified another car arriving; Paul stiffened and gently disentangled you to push you behind him. “Can I help you?” he asked, voice cold as ice.

“Yeah, you sure can, buddy. Get the fuck away from my girlfriend,” the voice that had haunted your nightmares for months snapped and instinctively you shrank back against the wall. You couldn’t see much beyond Paul’s broad back trembling with fury, but you knew your personal demon was there ready and waiting to drag you back to hell.

“Not gonna happen my dude. You see, she broke up with you. That’s what her leaving you was,” Paul explained in a condescending voice. “Most girls don’t take off for a few months for no reason.”

“She’s just confused, aren’t you Y/N? Come on sweetcheeks, tell him,” your ex peered around Paul, hands spread to show his innocence. “I came all this way to take you home. I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m not confused,” you said in a shaky voice, the surge of adrenaline giving you a sense of bravado. You moved beyond Paul’s protection to point an accusing finger at your ex for the first time in your life. Your heart was ready to escape the confines of your ribcage but it felt so freeing to finally stand up for yourself. “You were most definitely not worried sick, and I am not going back. Leave me alone!”

“Come on doll, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry,” he said plaintively, taking a step forward and grabbing your arm. Paul immediately stepped into him, and the man dropped your arm like it was a burning iron at the look on the werewolf’s face.

“Y/N said no. I suggest you back the fuck off and go home,” your protector growled, clenching his vibrating hands as his temper rolled through him. He angled his large body to put himself between you and your ex again, backing up so you moved back out of the way.

“What the hell is your problem, man? That’s MY girlfriend right there,” your ex shouted, shoving Paul’s chest. Which was the absolute wrong thing to do.

Paul loomed over him, on the verge of shifting. “Get out of here you fucking bastard. If I ever hear that you’ve set foot in the state of Washington ever again I will personally hunt you down and destroy you,” he snarled, panting heavily in an effort to control himself. Your ex tried to speak again and Paul punched him so quickly you missed the motion. He stumbled back, clutching his jaw and howling with pain. “LEAVE. Or I will break your fucking jaw.”

Your ex made a feeble attempt to hit back and Paul swiftly grabbed his arm and twisted, a grim smile catching at the corner of his mouth. “I told you man, get the FUCKING HELL out of here,” he warned again, and shoved your ex to his car. The bastard scrambled up, throwing himself into the seat and reversing out of the parking lot so quickly that gravel spewed everywhere. He was gone.

#wolf pack #paul lahote #werewolves #twilight #twilight wolves #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #paul lahote imagine

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capesandshapes · 5 years ago

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The Last Resort:Chapter 3 (Adrinette)

Summary: After an akuma attack goes wrong, Adrien finally learns Ladybug’s secret identity and finds himself falling even deeper in love with his friend. He thinks he’s finally gotten lucky when she declares to him that she’s currently in the business of falling love with anyone but her previous crush… until that crush turns out to be him. Now Adrien has to somehow convince the girl of his dreams to fall back in love with him, while keeping his own identity a secret from her. Well, if there was one thing his father taught him, it was how to multitask. Chapter Summary: A Gang That Is Totally More Concerned With Marinette's Attendance Than Anything Else Adrien attempts to walk Marinette to school yet again but runs into three distractions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He managed to walk her to school three times before the ruse of visiting the bakery for mere pastries was called into question. Waking her up and traveling the short distance to school with Marinette felt like a gift, one which he’d rather not share. Light conversation and frequent yawns felt like they were made for just the two of them, and Adrien lived for the moments where her half-awake body would stumble and catch herself on his hands. But, like all good things, it couldn’t last.

Familiar red hair and a knowing smirk greeted him behind the bakery’s back door on the fourth morning. Alya leaned forward on the center countertop of the kitchen as Adrien entered, Nino struggling to stand and stay conscious behind her. Her face looked like the cat who caught the canary; Ironic, seeing as he was Chat Noir.

“Good morning, Hot Stuff,” Alya purred, not out of lust for him, but desire for his secrets. He had no doubt in his mind why she was there. In fact, the only question he had about her sudden appearance was why it had taken so long.

He’d avoided telling them on that first day… And then, coincidentally, the three days that followed as well. Adrien was always incredibly good at changing topics, but he never thought he would make it this far without Alya cornering him. Anything that had to do with Marinette was Alya’s business, she made sure the whole class knew that. Marinette’s once crush now becoming her pursuer ranked fairly high on the list of things that were considered Alya’s business.

“Tom and Sabine saved you a croissant, a Danish pastry, and a banana creme eclair. They said it was your usual,” Alya informed him, pulling a small cardboard box out from under the counter and letting it fall softly on the countertop. “You know...It takes a long time for these pastries to bake and… Why, I think someone might have bought all of the other banana creme eclairs,” her devious tone left little question as to who could have done such a thing.

He swallowed hard, not daring to reach for the pastry box. He’d promised the Gorilla that eclair during their lunch break, and he could already begin to hear Plagg’s high pitched whines in his head. No, he needed them; otherwise there was no way he’d be able to even attempt to walk Marinette to school anymore.

“Spill,” Alya demanded, “or the pastries get it.”

Adrien sighed, looking to Nino for some form of help. Unsurprisingly, his friend responded via nodding drowsily, his hand on Alya’s shoulder as he struggled to stay upward. Nino was never a morning person, not until he’d had a coffee or five.

Adrien had wanted to keep things secret for a while longer, maybe manage to make it until he’d somehow wooed her. After all, it wasn’t like he could tell people the full reason for his sudden concern with Marinette. God forbid if anyone caught wind of how deep his feelings went, or that he had fantasized about a future with her. If he confirmed it to Alya, then that was as good as single-handedly telling every girl in his class, and then asking them to help him. Knowing the outlandish antics of his classmates, that was just asking for a train wreck to happen. So, he did the only thing he could; he lied.

Or tried to.

“Would you believe that I really like pastries?”

Alya rolled her eyes, Nino not even trying to hide how unimpressed he was as he stood behind her. Well, it was worth a shot.

Adrien raised his hands defensively, “okay, fine! You caught me,” he groaned, “ I’m not here for the croissants. Not that they’re not good croissants but--” He grimaced. “You win. I’m here for Marinette. I’ve been waking up an hour early and coming here every day to see her.”

“You like her,” Alya grinned.

“I do,” he admitted. Relief fell over him instantaneously, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to tell another human being that. More than that, how liberating telling Alya and Nino would be. He opened his mouth to divulge more, but was interrupted by Alya.

“You, Adrien Agreste, like her, Marinette Dupain Cheng,” her voice picked up volume as she spoke, excitement bubbling over. “Adrien Agreste likes Marin--”

Adrien’s finger rose to his lips at the same time that Nino’s hand clapped over her mouth, both young men attempting to silence the girl. Within seconds, however, Nino flinched and removed his hand, whipping it on his pants as Alya momentarily stuck her tongue out at him.

She spared Adrien a passing glance, bobbing up and down on her feet before turning on her heel very suddenly. “I’m going to tell her,” she announced, her face painted in excitement. “She didn’t believe me before, but just wait when I tell her now.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Nino nearly collided with Adrien as both young men practically ran across the kitchen to block the door leading to the apartment. “Hold on there, babe.”

“You really don’t need to do that,” Adrien breathed, “trust me, I have things covered.”

“Covered?” Alya scoffed, “Oh, so another three years of you two dancing around each other, great.” She frowned, tapping her foot as she impatiently waited for the two to move. “Trust me. If you just give me five seconds, she’ll be all over you. You two will be on couple dates with us in no time.” Tilting her head, she continued, “So just let me through and I’ll work my magi--”

Adrien shook his head as Nino looked to him for permission. Both boys stood up a little taller, attempting to look a bit more unmovable as she stared them down.

“Alya, I think I know what I’m doing. I’m happy with how things are going, and I want to savor this a little--”

“Savor?! Are you crazy? She’s trying to get over you! Someone could show up any minute and--”

“And what?” Nino interrupted. “He has this under control!”

“Neither of you have anything under control!” Alya’s voice peaked.

“Alya, I need to do this the right way. I want to get to know her better, I want to spend more time with her. I want to take things slow because I love her.”

The three almost didn’t hear the back door open, Alya’s voice far too loud as she asked incredulously, “Wait, you love her?!”

Thankfully, it seemed that not all powers of the cat miraculous faded away when transformed. Adrien stopped himself before he responded, catching the sound of the door before anyone else. He stiffened, his jaw feeling slightly slacker as the new person came into view. With a nudge of his elbow, Nino did as well.

Alya was the last to realize, staring at the two boys expecting an answer before realizing that their dumbstruck faces meant something. Her eyebrows knitted together as a look of horror crossed Nino, finally causing the girl to look over her shoulder.

“Is this a bad time? Juleka asked me to drop off some things Marinette lent her.” Luka. The boy stood awkwardly in the kitchen; a warm smile painted on his face as he slowly shut the door behind him. “She’s just upstairs, right?” Evidently, He had somehow missed the conversation just moments before.

“Any. Minute. Agreste.” Alya whispered through gritted teeth.

*************************

“I really must be late more often than I think I am,” Marinette laughed, holding onto the straps of her backpack as she did so. The number of visitors to her room that morning had initially made the girl blush, but now she walked happily along with them, evidently finding humor in the fact that so many people were dedicated to getting her to school on time when she only had a two-minute walk.

Beside her, Luka kept a casual pace as he walked with his bicycle, smiling at the girl as he hummed a tune under his breath. Every so often, the twos’ hips would bump or he’d reach for her back, filling the space that Adrien had existed in just a day prior. Together, Luka and Marinette already looked like a couple.

He wanted to hate him, if only because that’s what every piece of media told him he should do, but Luka was just such a genuinely good guy that Adrien couldn’t manage it. Instead, there was only one person that he could blame.

“You did this to yourself,” Alya whispered as she caught him staring at the two yet again.

“Thanks,” he silently cursed himself for all of his preconceived notions of romance and chivalry. He should have let Alya tell her, he should have told her himself by now, he should have kissed her that very first day, he should have dropped his transformation and told her that he was Chat Noir--

Luka’s hand brushed hers and she released a soft giggle in return.

“Ugh,” Adrien groaned, he was an absolute idiot. The worst part about his situation was that, despite diving into battles against deadly akumas and getting injured countless times, he couldn’t bring himself to walk up to the other side of her and talk to her. The great Chat Noir, capable of constantly taking rejection from one woman but somehow unable to handle walking beside her when her attention was on someone else. God, he was needy.

Nino silently mouthed a quick, ‘I’m sorry,’ at him.

Adrien mouthed, ‘thank you,’ in return. At least it was better being with Nino and Alya as well, rather than being alone with Luka and Marinette. He couldn’t imagine watching young love unfold before him alone, especially when just yesterday he’d been scoping out spots for first dates and asking himself just what sort of flowers would properly convey his current level of adoration.

“Is something wrong?” Of course, Luka had to be the one to turn around and ask. Of course, he had to catch a glimpse of Adrien’s self-deprecating look right before the blond could throw a fake smile on. Of course, Marinette had to stop as well, worry showing on her face. “You know, it feels like your rhythm might be all wrong today,” he began to reach for his guitar.

“I’m fine!” Adrien immediately replied, smiling innocently. The last thing he needed was for Luka to play his guitar. Adrien might have been a model, but he’d watched enough movies to know how well men with guitars faired. “I’m just thinking right now, nothing else.”

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked. “These past few days you’ve been really talkative, but today…”

He didn’t want to look at her, at least not when he lied. “I’m just a little tired is all.”

Marinette blinked, her mouth falling downwards sharply. Luka, however, seemed to accept the reasoning with a nod, turning to walk once again, his hand wrapping around Marinette’s to keep her moving.

The nice thing about Luka was, he never pushed. The worst thing about Marinette was, she always did.

Everyone kept walking, Luka engaging Marinette again as they entered the courtyard of the school. But Marinette didn’t pay Luka as much attention as before, her eyes downward as she fiddled with her phone.

Adrien’s vibrated moments later.

You know, if you want, I could start bringing your order to school with me instead. So you don’t have to wake up early Or walk with me If you want

He looked up to her just in time to see her say goodbye to Luka, her arms wrapping around the boy’s neck as she held him close. His arms, in turn, wrapped around her waist, holding her to him in a far too long hug before finally pulling away. Marinette grinned, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek as Luka got onto his bike.

“Talk to you after school?” Luka asked. “I have something I want to ask you.”

“Of course!”

Adrien turned away from the two, turning to his phone as Nino’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Alya peeked over at his screen from the other side of him, her voice comforting as she affirmed him, “I think that’s good, send it.”

No. I love spending time with you, Marinette.

In the distance, he heard a ding, followed by a small gasp. If he were quick enough, he would have caught her smiling up from her phone at him. Instead, he looked back in time to see her begin to run towards her friends. Still, that was enough to make him sure that there was no way he’d give up.

#adrinette #adrienette #my fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml fanfic #all of my new followers are probably going to be like what the fuck is this #this is my COMMITMENT followers #im going to finish this bitch

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