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neuromancer1888 · 2 years ago

Note

Icemav prompt: some time in the first top gun timeline, Ice and Mav arguing about something when one of them accidentally confesses

It took me some time because of my work but I finally got time to work on this prompt. I hope you like it! It's not the literal 'confesses mid argument' and I hope that's okay.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40231182

Maverick couldn't even remember for the life of him how this argument had even started. One moment, they were discussing plans for the evening and dinner for the afternoon- the next they were fighting each other over what color Slider's shirt was. His shirt for crying out loud. It had begun with Goose calling out that his shirt was a nice color, the kind of sky blue that matched his eyes. Slider hadn’t made a problem out of it, he ignored the comment mostly because of the way Goose had winked at him as if it were an invitation for more. It was Ice who started it all actually. “That’s not sky blue, are you color blind? That’s turquoise,” he had called out as he munched on whatever it was the guy somehow always had on him. Maverick had felt particularly violent that morning. His thumb leaning up against his lip, eyes narrowed, and lips curled into the permanent half-grin that always got him into trouble. “You sure about that Picasso? That looks more like baby blue to me,” and that had set them off on the rampant tour of verbal violence they were on now. Goose and Slider had each chosen their pilot’s side, as all RIO’s generally did, but hit off their conversation on a more decent note. Somewhere half-way through, they had switched their topic to ‘whether a fajita was better with ground beef or chicken’ and were now exchanging recipes. Maverick could hear Goose’s soft tone in between Ice’s enunciation; ”Oh no, Carol always bakes the chicken in the herbs first. Releases the flavors better. Just make sure you don’t bake powdered spices too long, they’ll burn.”

The discussion took a turn when Maverick lost his patience with the denigrating tone Ice took on when he bit out, “You’re a pilot right? How can you not know the difference between these colors? Let me guess, you half-assed your way through that too?” With a slightly raised voice, Maverick replied; “I didn’t suck my teacher’s dick on a daily basis so I wouldn’t know, Ice?” It all went fast after that. Ice up in his face, Slider calling out a couple of ‘Woah woah woah dude!’s, Goose giving him the ‘What did you do now Mav?’ look he always reserved for him whenever he fucked up. It had gone from a mild ten to a thousand faster than Maverick could have even anticipated. What in the world was he so high strung about anyway? “You need to treat people with more respect!” Ice started, but he wasn’t even listening anymore. “The hell is your problem? I thought you wanted to climb the ranks, what are you losing your cool about?” Goose gave him one last pleading glance but this too was neglected in the grander scheme of things.

“You never seem to give two damns about treating your fellow aviators with the respect they deserve, whether it’s calling them by their last names in the sky or being a total dick on land, like just now!” he continued angrily. Maverick was too distracted by the veins on the man’s throat. They seemed to be ready to burst and that concerned him. “Think of your blood pressure, I wouldn’t want you to-“ he had tried, genuinely, when Ice rolled his eyes and brought his hands up as if to say ‘Why do I even bother?’ “This is what I’m talking about, why can’t you just- be less of a total asshole?” he snapped. “That’s a lot of bad language coming out of your mouth Kazansky, you kiss your mom with that mouth, candy ass?” Mav knew he had gone too far when Slider jumped up from where he had been on alert- Goose in his shadow and ready to agree with him. Both men were now lecturing him unintelligibly about ‘Crossing the line’ and ‘taking a step back’ before ‘things got out of hand’, but Ice seemed to have become cold as stone after that.

“All of you are on my case- but why are you constantly on my ass then Ice? Sure, you don’t like what I do, but why is that your problem?” Slider and Goose both waited for that answer. Goose had opened his mouth to say something, halt his best friend- but Slider had pressed his hand back down to silence him. The black-haired menace had calmed down enough to have a normal and decent conversation and the ball was now in the Iceman’s court. “I make it my problem because I care about you Mitchell. What you do up there puts all of us in danger,” he insisted. “It’s not like you’ll get in trouble for it-“ Maverick started, but then Ice interjected; “I don’t want you to get in trouble Mitchell, is it that hard to understand? I don’t want you to get in trouble! That’s the whole point! ” Maverick blinked at that. “Why would you care if I got in trouble or not?” Slider seemed to get stressed about something while Goose stared at them as if he saw someone he knew, but couldn’t recognize from what.

“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” Ice seemed both disappointed and relieved, but Mav couldn’t grasp about what. He shook his head, hoping the answer would be given to him. Goose seemed to have ‘recognized’ ‘whoever’ it was; he glanced and Slider with a concerned look but then made an ‘oh’ shape with his mouth when the coin dropped. Maverick was beginning to suspect something really important had gone right over his head or that he had permanently lost his coin. “Who’s the better pilot?” He tried, but it hadn’t been the right answer. “Never mind,” Ice seemed to have changed his mind about it. Maverick just couldn’t figure out what in the hell was even going on.

“He really doesn’t know?” Slider turned to Goose, who shook his head. “See, when they were handing out the intelligence slips, he was trying to get into the distributor’ s panties.” “Unbelievable,” Slider breathed in disbelief. Goose wasn’t sure what else to say. No joke could seem to top this situation.

“What don’t I know?” Maverick looked around with his permanent half-smirk, before finally giving in. “That you’re a piece of work?” A cacophony of sighs released into the room before Slider nudged Goose to follow him out of the room; and then they were alone. “Can I know what’s going on here?” Maverick urged. The whole situation was just weird and Iceman wasn’t making it any clearer. Something about the way he had reacted, he wasn’t even sure what he had said that made him so pissed off. He had said so much bullshit already. . .

“Why did you call me a candy ass, Mitchell?” Iceman demanded. The way he clenched his jaws was both alarming and confusing. Was that tone in his voice? He guffawed and stared at the Iceman, waiting for him to reveal some snarky smirk, but neither his voice nor his expression gave way for a smirk of any indication it was a joke.

“I call you lots of things, it’s banter,” Maverick defended, shrugging. “Did I hurt your feelings?” Iceman’s jaw clenched more. What had he done wrong now? “Listen, can you stop being a dick for long enough to have an adult conversation?” - “I am! I am asking you, did I hurt your feelings? I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. Just rile you up,” Maverick really couldn’t grasp this conversation anymore. “You did. I didn’t like that comment. Do you even know what it means?” Iceman pressed on. Maverick nodded, “Exactly what you are; scared to do anything outside of your safe little box. No risks,” he answered candidly. “And faggot,” Iceman added. “Excuse me?” – “It’s also used as a derogatory term to gay men,” Iceman continued, his fist opening and closing in his side. He seemed to be sweating more than he had earlier. What in the devil was going on here? “You’re losing me Ice,” Maverick confessed, “what does this have to do with anything? Why do you care?” He wondered. “I like you, Mitchell, but you’re dumb as hell,” Ice sighed. “I’d prefer if you didn’t say things like that. I know how the military works and all, but- I’d appreciate it if it didn’t come from you.” Maverick narrowed his eyes; there it was, the coin. . . “Shit, Ice- you’re a fag?” He breathed in disbelief, earning himself a look he hoped he’d never have to see again.

“Mitchell,” Ice breathed softly. Maverick hadn’t realized, he hadn’t cared much or just hadn’t dared to hope. He felt a smirk spread across his face and it seemed to unsettle the Iceman. “That explains,” he murmured, but it didn’t seem to do any good for the other. “I shouldn’t have told you,” Ice immediately sighed, but as he turned to leave, Maverick reached out for his wrist. It almost earned him a good smack across the face but he had let him go in time. “Ice- come on. . . Tom, please,” now he had his attention. “This doesn’t change a thing to me. Hey, if you want me to shut up, I’ll shut up about it. Just one condition,” he held up a finger. Ice eyed it before sending Maverick a wary glare. “What’s that?” Ice asked softly. Maverick paused dramatically, watching him intently.

“I won’t tell shit if you let me take you on a date,” he replied just as softly, savoring the priceless look on the Iceman’s face.

#icemav #prompt #iceman #tom kazansky #pete mitchell #maverick #top gun

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leviathan-dee · 4 years ago

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Hiya! I'd like to request some awkward Dadgil moments in Nico's van, hehe. Thank you! <3

K!! Thank you for the request bean! I know how much you love the found family trope and family fics, so hopefully this somewhat sates that need ❤

Accumulating Problems

Dadgil (Vergil, Nero, mention of Nico)

Word Count: 1190

It has been almost a month since the Sparda twins returned from the Hyperborean wasteland that is hell, sinking their roots back to Earth and acclimatizing to normal human life. The first problem was, Vergil had barely any semblance of what a normal human was, let alone how to communicate like one.

Talking with one was almost unfathomable.

Yet here he was, posterior placed upon an aged leather armchair in Nico’s van, attempting to alleviate the tension in the air with… small talk.

This is where problem number two arose. The person he was attempting to converse with was his son, Nero, a very tempestuous youngling with many bones to pick. Every so often, Vergil sneaked a glance at the devil hunter, observing how his brow creased with every bump in the road that Nico hit along the way, a familiar wrinkle forming between his silver eyebrows. Nero seemed to be munching on a bag of peanuts, the crunches resounding in the tension thick air. That was a bizarrely comforting sound.

Vergil couldn’t help but stare at times, the realisation of his own living flesh and blood sitting beside him weighing down on his shoulders like a bag of bricks. Undoubtedly, the strangeness would never leave. The fact that Nero looked like a carbon copy of himself, his strength reflecting similarities beyond appearance, would feel like he was gawking into a mirror.

Admittedly, Vergil had ogled for too long, Nero noticing his father’s turned head, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“So erm-" shuffling his weight back in the futon, Nero directed his attention to his paternal figure.

“I apologise.” There was a long pause after Vergil's reply, the air growing thicker with anxious energy.

“What for?”

“It is... strange. You have my face.” Vergil cursed under his breath for the lack of tact in the comment. But it was the only way he could express his current tumultuous emotions. Nero had his face. His strength. His endurance. Even his mocking attitude amongst an enemy littered field. Nero was definitely Vergil's son, and the elder had to accept that fact. Might as well start with awkward comments on their appearances.

“Wha-”

"Tsk. What I meant was, we have many similarities."

The silver haired youngster scrunched his face quizzically at Vergil. It wasn't the first time he had trouble formulating words when it came to his ancestry.

"Well, you are my father. Or has that changed whilst I wasn't lookin'?" The uncomfortable silence stretched between them, neither able to alleviate whatever stiffness that hung in the air. Inadvertently, both father and son placed their respective palms to their hair, brushing the strands away from their own eyes at the same exact time.

Problem number three was the lack of common ground that the two possessed. Yes, Sparda’s blood flowed through their veins. However, Vergil knew nothing of the boy. What were his hobbies? How did he grow up? Hell, what was even his favourite food?

“This is ridiculous.” Vergil scrutinized the cumbersome predicament, his inability to communicate normally holding a hot iron rod to his back. How could the son of Sparda be so easily defeated by language?

Meanwhile Nero’s father was having an existential crisis beside him, the son kept munching on that same pack of peanuts that filled the silence. Shoving his whole hand into the pack of sweet treats, Nero turned to ease the tension by offering some to his father. Vergil peered at the pack, most of the flashy scarlet logo and ingredients obscured by Nero's palm.

"Peanuts, want some?"

"I… suppose." Vergil tentatively poked at a multitude of spherical chunks, the nuts sticking together with ease. Drawing them out of the bag, he tossed the handful into his gob. Unfortunately, because of Vergil’s tendency for impulsive thought and action, he neglected to observe what he was chucking down his throat. Besides, it was another good chance at starting a typical chat, hesitating to involve oneself in snacking with their son was probably a bad idea towards the road to awkward silence once more.

“They’re honey roasted, with Carolina Reaper flakes.” Nero’s smirk slowly, yet surely, melted away as the boy realised what he just fed his agonizingly stoic father. Cringing inwardly, the young devil hunter prayed that his dad had the same, if not a better, tolerance to blazing peppers and spices.

“What is a Carolina Rea-” It was then that problem number four made its guest appearance. The moment of realisation, and the foreign tickling sensation upon his tongue, was a one way trip to pained-confusion-ville. Undoubtedly, the tickle quickly morphed into a flaming inferno of a thousand tiny blades pinching at the inside of Vergil’s mouth. Tears began to well up in the corner of his once silver eyes, now turning crimson from both pain and fury at his callousness.

“Carolina Reapers are spicy peppers. Like, very spicy. Once held the record for hottest pepper on the planet, spicy.” Attempting to speak as innocently and as nonchalantly as possible as to not awaken the beast in Vergil, Nero chucked another handful into his mouth, chewing thoroughly without batting an eyelash.

“Fuck.” Tears now streaming down his face like the river Nile, a profanity otherwise unimaginable had escaped from between his stinging lips. And no matter how gently the word was uttered, both Nero and Nico heard the curse word.

“Did your daddy just drop the eff bomb? Mr. I’m too high and mighty to swear like the rest of us simple folk?” Nico’s eccentric and excitable nature transformed the situation into a stage play. The domino effect of Vergil’s careless actions, Nero’s equally careless offer, and the air of tension mixed into only what can be called a comedic tragedy.

“Dad?” Nero could barely hold back the laughter, feeling bad for never mentioning his god-like tolerance to the scoville scale. He hadn’t even noticed how this was the first time he called Vergil by his parental title, out of worry and concern.

“I’m fine.” The elder’s oesophagus was coated in liquid fire, his voice more so hoarse than nasal. As Vergil sat barely breathing, Nero stood to reach over to the freezer beside him, procuring another sweet treat.

“Here. Had a spare cone of ice cream. Usually works.” Vergil’s impulsive nature took control once more, this time in attempts to preserve his cool. No obstacles of hesitation, he swallowed the top half in mere seconds.

To be quite honest, Vergil was glad to find a difference between them so drastic. Who thought it would occur in something like sweet treats that can burn a hole in the ground like Xenomorph blood? For all he knew, that was exactly what they were coated with. Hell, he was proud of Nero for such a victory over his father, even if it did mean himself losing to a youngster.

Maybe differences are not so bad. And maybe they will grow to have a decent conversation soon. For now, he had to get rid of the smouldering pain that blanketed his tongue, and take a mental note to always pay attention to what his son offered him.

#devil may cry #Vergil #nero #dadgil #request #leviathan-writes

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

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The Sacred Art of Hamburger-Making

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, & Hanta Sero

Hey, hey, everybody! This is the second story I wrote for @cuizineco’s Heroes in the Baking zine, which is free to download!

Momo hummed under her breath as she filed her nails, sitting between Hanta and Denki on the common room sofa. The air was filled with clacking and clicking as the two boys feverishly jabbed the buttons and spun the joysticks on their controllers; both of their eyes were fixed on the martial arts video game they were embroiled in. Momo enjoyed the rare instances where they came down to the common room to play; she found something about their competitive energy so invigorating, especially after a hard day’s training.

Just as she had finished buffing her shiny, neatly-trimmed nails, a deep voice boomed from the television to announce with dramatic fervor, “Fatality!” while thick red blood splattered the word across the screen. Hanta jumped up from the couch with a triumphant crow, nearly flinging the controller as he flung his hands into the air, while the defeated Denki melted into the couch cushions with a groan.

“Don’t worry, Denki. You’ll beat him next time,” Momo encouraged with a sweet smile.

“No, he won’t, because he’s a loserrrrr!” Hanta teased while making an L-shape on his forehead with his fingers. Denki stuck out his tongue angrily to his friend before humming thoughtfully.

“Man, we’ve been playing for hours. I’m starving… You know what I could go for right now? A big, greasy, cheesy, American-style hamburger,” he sighed dreamily, salivating at the words alone. Momo perked up, her interest piqued.

“Oh, I’ve never had a hamburger before.”

If they were on a comedy show, one would have heard a record scratch. Denki’s head whipped around to stare at her with owlish eyes for a second before he chuckled magnanimously and slipped his arm around her slim shoulders, his expression melting into one a mixture of pity and mischievousness.

“Momo. Dear. Honey. You’ve never had a hamburger?” the blond asked in a polite but disbelieving voice. Unsure what all the fuss was about, Momo slowly shook her head.

“Now that’s what I call a got-damn tragedy,” Hanta observed before shoving a handful of potato chips into his mouth. As he munched on the barbecue-flavored crisps, crumbs and powder raining from his lips down onto his tee-shirt, he looked at Denki pointedly. “We have to amend that, don’t we, Denks?”

“We most certainly do,” the blond nodded sagely, pinching his chin and closing his eyes like the picture of a pensive philosopher. “We cannot allow Momo here, our dear friend, our beloved classmate and light of our bleak lives, to remain in such a sorry state. So… To the kitchen!” he announced and jumped up, pointing a finger into the air. “By our hand, we will allow Momo to suffer no longer!”

Are hamburgers really that good? Momo wondered as she followed the two boys to the adjoining kitchen. They probably weren’t, but watching the two tear through the cabinets and refrigerator to gather all the necessary tools and ingredients was so energizing that Momo found herself growing excited. She’d never seen Denki so animated about cooking before; he was all smiles as he pranced around wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron of All Might in a chef’s hat, so she couldn’t refuse him even if she wanted to.

“All right, Chef Denki,” Momo chuckled as she tied an apple-patterned apron around her waist, “I’m under your tutelage tonight.”

“It’s the only thing he’ll ever tutor you in,” Hanta joked, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from his cohort.

“Anyway,” Denki said and cleared his throat, “pay close attention, Momo. I am going to teach you the sacred art of making hamburgers. First, we have to make the patties.” He took a few packs of ground meat and sliced open the plastic, dumping the stringy pink-red meat into a large aluminum bowl.

“Everyone says they’re down with hamburgers tonight,” Hanta reported, sitting on the counter typing away at his phone.

“Let’s see— with twenty people plus Mr. Aizawa, with an average of two burgers a person, that would be… forty patties,” he rattled off, using his fingers to count as he multiplied in his head. “We should be able to manage that between the three of us. Hanta, would you go ahead and plug in the mini-grill so it’ll be heated up?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Denki returned his attention to the patiently-waiting Momo.

“Now then. First, you want to make sure your patties are the right consistency, so you mix it with bread crumbs.” Momo watched with raised eyebrows as he took a box of them and dumped some into the bowl. “You want your patties to stick together, obviously, so you add eggs—” he continued as he cracked some open, spilling the golden yolks into the bowl— “and then milk to soften up the meat a little. Finally— and this is the most important part, Momo— you season it to perfection!”

Momo watched in wonder as he added several spices and a dark brown sauce to the mix, saturating the meat in flavor, without even taking measurements. As he was telling her how to mix it up, scrunching the meat and other ingredients together with his hands, she smiled endearingly.

“Wow, you’ve cooked this a lot, huh?”

“Yup! Me and my folks took an overseas trip once to America when I was young, and we loved the hamburgers so much that we got a recipe from one of the locals! It became a staple in my household! Fast food burgers are nice n’ all, but nothing really compares to a good ol’ beefy homemade burger!” Denki grinned widely.

“I think that’s great! Would you like me to get started on another bowl of ground beef, then?”

“Yes, please!”

Under Denki’s careful guidance, Momo added the ingredients one at a time to the bowl. When it came time to combine them, she squealed at the odd sensation of the sticky, gooey meat, fluid sauce and egg, and gritty powder squishing between her fingers. Denki laughed heartily at the disgusted faces she made while mixing up the ground beef, squeaking and shuddering all the while, until it was uniform. In the background, Hanta had been doing other small tasks like chopping lettuce and onions, slicing tomatoes and cheese, and setting out condiments. He finally joined them at the counter, wiping tomato juice off his hands with a dishtowel.

“It’s a messy job,” Denki said as he grabbed a fistful of the meat, “but we’re not done yet! Now it’s time to make the patties.”

“Ooh! My favorite part!” Hanta grinned, grabbing hamburger meat from Momo’s bowl with both hands. “Ya just roll it into a ball, then flatten it into a nice, round patty,” he said while demonstrating the motions. He then walked over to the simmering grill to plop it on the ridged surface. “Then ya grill it until it’s just right, and boom! Nice, tasty, juicy hamburger.”

“Hanta, have you been to America, too?” Momo inquired as she slowly replicated the motion, still cringing at the sliminess of the raw meat.

“Nah. I spent a lot of summer break at Denki’s house, though, and his old man taught me how to make ‘em!” Hanta said as he slapped another patty onto the small grill and closed the lid, filling the air with sizzling and popping. While he waited for the meat to brown, he leaned against the counter and flashed Momo a wink. “I felt kinda honored being included in the Kaminari family tradition of summer cook-outs!”

“You’re my best friend! Of course you would be!” Denki grinned, sauntering over to bump elbows with Hanta. “And, since Momo is our best girl,” he continued while turning around to wink saucily at Momo, “it’s natural that she be included, too!”

“Ah! Stop it; you’re going to make me blush!” Momo cried and, in her momentary embarrassment, slapped her palms to her cheeks. All the blood drained from her face as she realized she was smooshing raw meat and seasoning on her face. She screamed shrilly and ripped her hands away from her face, horrified by the bits of pulverized meat falling from her cheeks. As she raced to the sink, Hanta and Denki fell to the floor howling with laughter. “Stop it! It’s not funny!” she cried as she scraped at her face with a soapy sponge, tossing a glare over her shoulder.

“Actually, it really is, Yaomomo,” Denki snorted as he climbed back up to resume making hamburger patties. Momo just sniffed dourly, thoroughly embarrassed. Then, an evil idea hatched in her mind; stealthily, she filled her cupped hands with ice-cold water and crept up behind Denki. Just as he took notice of her presence, she dumped it down the neck of his shirt. He yelped and his back arched backward as the cold liquid hit his skin.

“Aye, aye, what the hell was that for?!”

“Serves you right!” Hanta laughed, pointing at him and completely unaware that he was the next in Momo’s cross-hairs. “Wha—?” he blinked owlishly as Momo flung a glob of the raw meat at him; it collided with his cheek with a wet slap, slowly sliding down before landing on his tennis shoe. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Hey, you morons! Don’t tell me you’re messing around in the kitchen!” boomed a grouchy voice. Momo turned to see Katsuki stomping in, his hands buried in his cargo pants pockets and his lips stretched in a scowl. His vermillion eyes slowly slid down to the chunk of meat dripping on Hanta’s shoe. “What the hell?! You can’t just waste food like that! Who taught you losers to cook?!”

“Oi! This is my show! Go yell at someone else, Baku-bro!” Denki whined and poked at Katsuki with his foot as he continued to quickly pile up patties on aluminum foil next to Hanta, who returned from cleaning off his face to take the broiled hamburgers off the grill and put them on some buns. Katsuki slapped Denki’s foot away but obediently shambled out of the kitchen to join the rest of their peers, who had been attracted by the savory aroma now clouding the air.

“All right, the guest of honor gets to try first,” Hanta grinned as he presented Momo with a fully dressed hamburger complete with a side of potato chips. As she took the paper plate, she was amazed at the weight of the thing, nearly spilling it all as she hastily recovered from the plate dipping. She set it safely on the counter before looking at it, wondering how the heck to eat it.

“I… With my hands…?”

“Hell yeah, girl! Get in there!” Denki encouraged with an airy laugh. Momo blushed before timidly grabbing the hamburger, grimacing at the juice that leaked onto her fingers when she lightly squeezed it. She craned her neck over the plate as she leaned in for a bite, trying not to drip it all over her clothes. First came the soft bread, then crunchy lettuce and tomato, then melty cheese, and then finally the savory meat. Momo hummed as the robust flavor exploded on her tongue, complemented by all the toppings.

“Well? Amazing or what?” Denki grinned as he sidled up to her, wiggling his golden eyebrows expectantly. Too busy savoring the symphony of flavors on her tongue, Momo only nodded with her eyes fluttering shut. “Woohoo! Atta girl! Look at our Momo, getting messy with a big ol’ hamburger!” Denki laughed as he did a celebratory jig.

“Ehhh? Did I hear Momo eating hamburgers?” Mina said as she poked her head in. Momo was mid-bite, her mouth stretching wide to accommodate the thick patty, and she froze to blink owlishly at the pink girl. “Ahhhh! Look how far you’ve come! Finally embracing the ways of us commoners, eh?”

Instead of replying, Momo just crunched down on the burger, smiling dreamily as the deliciousness once again graced her senses.

She had the answer to her question. Hamburgers were really that good! While the others began to file into the kitchen to claim their meals from Denki and Hanta, Momo savored hers bite by bite until she was finished. When she sheepishly presented her plate to Denki for seconds, he laughed and began fixing it for her. The others had vacated the premises, leaving only the two of them.

“Thanks for sharing this with me, Denki. I had a lot of fun, and it was really good!” she said as he plopped a piece of pale green lettuce atop her patty.

“To be honest, I was a little scared you wouldn’t enjoy it,” he admitted shyly, giving her a side glance as she gasped in shock. “I know you come from a really wealthy family, Momo, and generally… Rich folks don’t think highly of us little guys, you know?”

“I know.” Though Momo’s family was kind and tolerant, that still didn’t mean that she hadn’t seen the uglier side of the bourgeoisie. With a soft smile, she wrung her arms around Denki’s waist and laid her head on his shoulder to squeeze him in a tight hug. “But I consider myself lucky! You guys teach me all kinds of neat and wonderful things, and I get to share things about my life with you all, too. I would never, ever judge you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Denki hummed and gently bonked his head with hers. “Here you go, Momo. I hope you enjoy your seconds.”

“Thanks,” she said as she took the plate. She then grinned roguishly. “To be honest, I might be up for thirds.”

Like the hearty scent of homemade hamburgers wafting around the small kitchen, her and Denki’s laughter filled the air.

Nope. In Momo’s book, nothing really did compare to one of Denki’s hamburgers, and it soon became one of her favorite things to cook with her friends, even out of all the things she learned from them.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #hanta sero #sero hanta #momo yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu momo

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ladyanput · 5 years ago

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Seeing Green Ch. 2

Oh wow! Thanks for 115 followers, guys!

I'm going to put in a minor warning for you guys, of stalking and a bit of voyeurism. Nothing graphic, it's only mentioned is all.

[[MORE]]

"Am I being stupid with this?" Marinette stared at herself in the mirror, fretting over the grey knit dress she wore, nervously tugging it down lower on her stocking covered legs. Her gaze flickered down to Tikki casually sitting on the vanity table, nibbling on a cookie. "I mean, I just met him this morning, Tikki, and I'm going on a date with him tonight. What if he thinks I'm easy? That I'm some French floozy?"

"Marinette, this doesn't have to be a romantic date." Tikki flew up, slowly circling her Holder, before hovering before her face. She offered a kind smile. "This can be a date for you to get to know each other. And you can't get to know each other unless you spend time together, right?"

"You're right, I'm just overthinking things again." Marinette let out a small giggle, then took a seat at the vanity. She had chosen to let her hair loose, the dark waves reaching far past her shoulders, as she had decided to grow it out forever ago. She smiled at her reflection, then began painting her lips a soft pink colour, as Tikki returned to her cookie, munching happily. "He's not expecting anything, I'm sure. I.. I won't go further than a kiss. If he tries anything, I'll just drop him altogether."

"You're taking Eva's advice on dating again." Tikki giggled, watching Marinette pick up her signature purse, the kwami quickly flying inside. Marinette merely smiled in response, heading towards the elevators. As soon as she pressed the button, she heard a door open. She turned to see Alix stepping into the hall, frowning.

"You going on your date?" Alix sounded stiff, awkward when she spoke. Marinette merely blinked, and Alix's face reddened, and she crossed her arms. "Listen, just.. Don't let him get up to any funny business. I'm not.. I haven't been the greatest friend, I've been a real shitty one, but I still worry. I.. I know she's lying now. I should have before, but I was stupid."

"Alix, what.." Marinette shut her mouth as soon as she saw tears welling up in Alix's eyes, but she stubbornly refused to shed.

"I should have fucking known. I kinda did, but I didn't want to get in the middle of the shitshow, so I tried to stay neutral. But today, we left you behind in Gotham, a place that's really dangerous. And I'm sitting with Lila and Alya, listening about how you're mooching off this hot intern to make Adrien jealous, maybe get a threesome, and I'm just sitting there thinking 'aren't they worried about her? This is Gotham, the Joker and people are here. This isn't Paris, people get kidnapped and die here, and they stay dead, there's no Cure!'

"And I try and bring this up, and Alya has the fucking nerve to say that you deserve whatever you get, because you're a worse bully, have been ever since Chloe transferred to a different school. It.. It was a wake up call for me, Mari, and I realized how much I screwed up and that I was so horrible to you. We all have been. And I'm sorry, I really am.. And.. Please, be safe. I want you to come back safe."

"Alix..." Marinette stepped forward and hugged Alix tightly, surprising the girl. She felt tears in her eyes, and let them fall as she hugged Alix tightly. Something in her that had long since been locked away, came forth. "I am so happy to hear that. I... I've missed you. I miss all of you."

Marinette pulled away after a few minutes, wiped away the tears, and smiled brilliantly, a real smile.

"And don't worry, I can take care of myself. If he tries anything, I'll make sure he'll never walk right again." The fierce grin she gave caused Alix to burst into laughter.

"Not if I get to him first. He does anything funny, they'll never find the body!"

Both girls shared grins, once destroyed bridges finally beginning to mend.

…

When Marinette got down to the lobby, she felt a little better. It wasn't by much, but that bit certainly helped lift her mood. She smiled at the sight of Damian standing in the lobby. He was a really handsome guy. Tall, broad shoulders, dark messy hair, he even had muscle, muscle that could be well seen with the black turtleneck he wore.

In her unashamed ogling, she hadn't noticed that he was talking with someone. Or that that someone was Miss Bourbon, who did not seem impressed with whatever Damian was telling her.

Mari rushed over before the TA could scare her date away.

"Hello Miss Bourbon, I take it you're giving Damian a lecture." She spoke up, grinning when she saw pink dust the older woman's cheeks.

"Not a lecture. Just a warning that you're my student, and if anything happens to you, I'll bring the wrath of Hades down upon him." Eva grinned, and giggled with Mari, before turning back to Damian. "But in all seriousness, I want her back by nine o'clock sharp. We're going to Gotham City Park tomorrow for a picnic, and we don't want the students abandoning Marinette again."

"Completely understood." Damian gave her a small smile, then held out his arm for Marinette to take. Even Eva had to admit, Damian was an attractive man, not that she'd touch him. A twenty three year old should never go after a seventeen year old. Ever. "I will just be taking Marinette out for dinner, then I'll bring her straight back."

"Well, good.. I understand the whole… Young love thing, just don't go overboard, okay?" Eva found herself smiling at Damian, then gave Mari a wink. "An old lady like myself knows exactly how that type of thing can go badly."

"Bon soir, Evangeline. I'll bring you a piece of cheesecake, if they have any where we're eating at." Marinette assured her, before she was guided out of the building. They were greeted with the sight of a driver opening the door of a very expensive looking car for them. "Damian.. You… You have a personal driver?"

"It's not too much, is it? I just thought it would be easier to talk to you, if I didn't have any distractions." Damian gave an almost embarrassed smile, helping Marinette into the car, then sliding in after her. As their thighs pressed together, Marinette could feel the heat radiating off of him, and her heart began slowly picking up speed. "You know, your English is pretty good for someone from France."

"O-oh, thanks. Miss Evangeline is from Canada, she came to France to strengthen her French. So she helped me with English, while I helped her with French. A fair trade." Mari felt her cheeks go scarlet, trying to ignore the heat of him, of his charming smile. It should be illegal to look so good. "She.. She really cares, you know? Miss Bustier, she wants you to ignore what anyone does bad to you, she wants you to be an example to the bullies, to cause little fuss, just smile and be the bigger person."

"So, what you're telling me,is that you are being gaslighted by your teacher, you are being bullied by everyone in your class, and only a person from a different country believes you?" Damian's brows rose, and Marinette glanced down at her folded hands, then clenched them tightly to keep them from trembling. "Do you want me to kidnap you, so that you'll never have to deal with them again?"

"What? No, no, it's fine! I just have to deal with them until graduation. Besides, some of them are coming around." Marinette shook her head, Alix flashing in her mind, but she ignored it and smiled up at Damian once again. "Let's not talk about it, okay? I want to get to know you better. I like you Damian, but I don't really know anything about you. I don't even know your last name."

They shared a smile, and began to talk as they drove along the streets of Gotham. Marinette explaining how her parents were bakers, of her aspirations in fashion, meanwhile Damian went on about his father and brothers, though he was very careful not to mention his last name. He liked how Marinette looked at him. At him because he was Damian, not because he was Damian Wayne. He wasn't lying to her, but he wanted to keep that look, at least for tonight.

"I mean, life has been hectic, ever since the akuma attacks started a few years ago.." Marinette began, as the car slowed to a stop. Damian's brows drew together as he thought over her words.

"Akuma attacks? What's an akuma?"

"Master Damian, we have arrived." The driver spoke out, cutting off Marinette's attempts to respond. The two exchanged a glance before they climbed out of the car, standing before a small diner. Damian took Marinette's dainty hand into his massive one, and guided her inside.

When they stepped inside, Marinette decided it felt warm and comfy there. It was a quaint diner, a few people scattered here and there, enjoying warm meals. It was a relief, so see this, instead of some upscale restaurant where it would be so fancy, her head would spin. The smells of spices and something faintly citrusy filled the air, as a perky waitress guided the couple to a booth, then left them alone with their menus and ice water.

"Now.. Want to explain what an akuma is?" Damian glanced up, meeting Marinette's gaze. He noted out her hands tensed, gripping her menu tighter.

"You really don't know what an akuma is? But they've been terrorizing Paris for years, how can no one know about them?" Her voice became soft, hollow as she spoke, those blue eyes of hers seeming to close off their expressive nature. "How is that possible? Is that why.. Why the Justice League wouldn't come and help? Because they didn't think it was actually happening?"

"Marinette? Angel, are you alright?" Damian touched her hand, drawing Marinette from her odd trance she went under. She seemed a bit shaken, but forced a smile and returned to reading the menu. Damian took that as a sight to refrain from pushing the subject. So he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and went back to look at his menu as well. Maybe chicken alfredo would be nice.

…

Chat Noir scowled as he watched the diner from across the street, perched on a building. He didn't like the guy Marinette was out with. He just didn't seem right. It's not because Adrien was jealous, not at all. Marinette was just a friend. Or would be a friend, if she'd stop trying to expose Lila. He didn't want to have to deal with Lila being akumatized. Again. For the tenth time.

He snarled when he watched Marinette blush, watched her and the intern guy laughed. He didn't miss the body language they had towards each other. Chat Noir tried to assure himself that it was only physical attraction. That when Mari saw passed the guy's shiny exterior, she'd see he's only after a quick fling with a cute girl from France.

A very cute girl. When he had seen Marinette step into the lobby, dressed up for a date, a part of him wanted to go over and take her on that date. Maybe convince her to wear her pigtails again, cut her hair again. He wanted her back to the way she was, before Lila, before that stupid miss Evangeline and her encouraging Marinette to stick up to herself, to rock the boat.

You never rock the fucking boat. Ever.

Chat Noir sat there for hours, scowling. He shouldn't be this hung up on a friend. He had His Lady afterall. His courageous, gorgeous Ladybug. She was waiting back for him in Paris. He had a new idea for trying to get a date with her. He was Chaos, she was Balance. They were meant to be, she just needed to realize it.

He was brought out of his daydreams of kissing Ladybug, stripping her out of her costume, but watching Marinette and Damian leaving the diner. He hated how cuddly they were. His claws dug into the stone of the ridge he was sitting on.

He followed the fancy car back to the hotel, watching as Damien walked Mari up to the doors of the hotel. His jaw clenched when Marinette kissed Damian on the cheek, leaving the guy looking dumbstruck as she practically flounced into the hotel, like she was floating on air.

Fury curled in Chat's gut and he launched himself onto the roof that was opposite of Marinette's room. He had to warn his princess, he couldn't let her get hurt, not by some sleazy rich guy she barely knew.

And he sat there, watching her enter her room, opening her purse, and his heart stopped. The flying red kwami had bolted from the purse and flying around Marinette, the two obviously in quite giddy conversation.

And it clicked.

Marinette… Was Ladybug. His Princess was his Lady. And everything in the past made so much more sense. He grinned, realizing now why he was so protective of Marinette. Soulmates knew each other outside of the masks, so that's why he knew her, but didn't realize it.

So Chat sat there, grinning, as Marinette stripped off her knit dress, taking in her beauty. She had grown such beautiful curves over the past few years, she had such pretty skin. When she unhooked her bra, he purred, already lost in a daydream of him being in that room with her, carefully caressing her and making her his. And he could practically taste the salt on her skin, as she whispered his name. His green eyes stayed transfixed on her, as she stripped before his eyes.

Tag list: @realrandomposts @2sunchild2

@interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @poshplumcot @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie

#Seeing Green #daminette #maribat #dc x mlb #Adrien Salt

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years ago

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Helping Hands - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Haley learns a bit more about Loki, and the rest of the team learns the price to pay for her powers.

Chapter Warnings: Blood, descriptions of injuries.

A/N: Thank y’all so much for enjoying Haley and Loki! I promise that romance will happy eventually! Just gotta hold on for a little while while she gets comfortable with, ya know, existing.

“Bananas, strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries with some vanilla greek yogurt and protein powder. My typical pre-workout.”

Haley sipped on the thick purple concoction, sampling the sweetness on her tongue before giving it an approving nod. “It’s tasty. But I’m not going to workout.”

Natasha poured the rest of the blender’s contents into a travel tumbler with a wide straw. She arched a delicate brow and shrugged her shoulders. “We need to put some meat on those bones. Right now you’re all lips and big brown eyes and knobby knees.”

She couldn’t even be offended. It was all true. Scratching idly at the healing burn through her thick sweatshirt, she looked around quickly before narrowing her gaze at Natasha. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Here goes nothing. “What’s up with Loki? He’s part of your,” a quick pause to think of the word and take a sip, “team. What can he do?”

“Oh, your personal bodyguard?” She hopped up on the counter and munched on a granola bar she had snagged on top of her smoothie. “He’s not human, for starters.”

She froze in tracing a line of condensation down the side of her glass. Surely her eyes were going to fall out of her head they were so wide. “What?”

The blonde shrugged a shoulder. “Him and his brother Thor, they’re from another planet. Well, Loki’s adopted. But they act more like brothers than some blood-related siblings I’ve met. Why don’t you ask him?”

Later that evening the entire team went on a mission. Tony had explained that they were going back to Hydra to see if they could find anything on her identity before she was taken, but she wasn’t holding out too much hope for that. It seemed dumb even to her to keep evidence like that just laying around.

Loki had elected to stay behind with her, an odd move as he had been acting cold and distant since he discovered the downside to her abilities a few days prior. It stung and squeezed at her heart painfully, as he had been the first that she felt close to in this whole ordeal.

Finally, after the second hour of her watching reality television dating shows - per Natasha’s suggestion to ‘educate’ her on life she’d missed - she couldn’t take the silence practically radiating off of the stubborn man anymore. She peered over at him hopefully.

“Loki?”

He didn’t look up from the thick book he had cradled in his large hands. But his head tilted to the side in her direction, which she took as answer enough for her to continue.

“Natasha said that you’re not human.” Blunt, straight to the point, and enough to get his attention.

The book closed and disappeared from his grasp. He leaned into the couch, draping his arm across the back so that it almost came in contact with her shoulder, his knees spread as he regarded her with a solid stare that betrayed nothing. “She is correct.”

She curled her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie, tucking them against her chest after wiggling a bit so she faced him. It was easier to watch his face from the new position, to read the minute shifts in his breathtaking facial features before he could hide them away behind an indifferent mask. “But you look human.”

Truth be told he was so pleasant to look at he couldn’t possibly be human, but that didn’t need to be said.

Silence stretched between them as he regarded her with a furrowed brow, unmoving save the rise and fall of his chest beneath his forest green button-up shirt. His voice was careful, controlled, when he finally responded with, “Thor and I were raised in another realm, called Asgard. We called this planet Midgard. We remained there for centuries before living in this pitiful excuse for a tower.”

“And that’s why you can…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip lightly as she tried to think of the right word. Finally, she gave up, and waved her sleeve-covered fists in between them instead.

That earned her a quick chuckle that sounded like sin personified rolling down her spine. “My mother taught me magic, yes. I can do more than send objects to and from my own personal dimension.”

She perked up at the possibilities, eyes shining bright with fascination as she beamed at him. “What else can do you do? Can you show me?”

His whispered reply came from just over her shoulder, skating down her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “What would you like to see?”

She whipped her head around to see him now standing behind her, dressed in the gleaming leathers she had first seen him in, only without the grime and gore. He smirked at her, pointedly looking over her shoulder. Following his gaze, she found Loki just as he was a moment ago, watching her with just the corner of his mouth upturned into a small smile. Her head whipped back and forth, and she reached out to touch both men simultaneously. Smooth skin of the back of Loki’s hand met her shaking fingertips on one side, but the other hand went straight through his sleeve. He flickered, his body shimmering in a captivating green light before disappearing altogether.

“That’s amazing!” she exclaimed, looking back to the real man sitting beside her, blushing when she realized that her fingers had been exploring the smooth, thin skin over the back of his hand absentmindedly. She pulled it back to her chest, tucking her feet underneath her. “What else can you do?”

“You aren’t frightened?” he asked, his velvet voice lined with surprise as he searched her face.

Was she supposed to be? “You haven’t given me any reas-”

Her words were cut off by shouting and doors slamming at the end of the hallway. Without thinking she jumped, pressing herself into Loki’s side and digging her hands into the collar of his shirt as she cowered from the commotion. He shushed her beneath his breath, his hand stretching across her back automatically.

“We need Haley,” Steve said breathlessly, running into the room. He was covered in sweat and dirt, panting heavily and clearly distraught.

Ice flooded her veins. Loki’s grip tightened around her body just enough for her temple to press against the harsh edge of his jaw.

“Why?” she asked, just as Loki growled, “She will not do it.”

“Natasha’s been shot. The doctors won’t be here for another 10 minutes and she won’t make it until then. You gotta help us.”

So, this was the price she had to pay for living amongst these people. She steeled herself, extracting herself from Loki’s hold to stand up on rigid legs. All she had done was leave one prison for another, one riddled with smiles and food and warmth that all hid the dastardly deeds she was to perform.

But Natasha. She had been kind to her, helpful and forthcoming. It was the beginnings of a friendship she could see herself cherishing. Giving that up wasn’t something she was willing to accept. Maybe with her body’s ability to heal much more rapidly than others, she wouldn’t suffer the same fate that Natasha faced. “I’ll do it.”

Loki stood up in a flash and gripped onto her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. His emerald eyes shone with a warring combination of desperation and fury as they drilled into hers. “You do not have to. It could kill you.”

“I do,” she replied, twisting her hand around to squeeze his before taking off after Steve. He was fast, impossibly so, and she hadn’t built up that much strength in the short week that she had been living in the tower. Eventually, he ended up carrying her, holding her to his broad chest with careful arms tucked behind her shoulders and under her knees.

Groans of pain met her ears, strengthening her resolve even as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach at the sight of Natasha, pallid and blood-stained on the metal table in the infirmary. Crimson soaked the ripped black leather on her side, dripping onto the floor to soak her socks where Steve gently set her down before backing away.

“Haley?” Natasha asked weakly, her head rolling on the table to look at the girl who had pressed her hands over her slippery, ruined flesh.

Haley said nothing, gritting her teeth as she called on the powers that had wakened at the sight and sounds of pain and injury before her. Her side split open in a wave of agony so strong that her knees buckled. Strong arms caught her around her chest and beneath her thighs, tugging her away until the connection was broken and the golden light that glowed behind her eyelids dimmed. Weakness weighed heavy on her. Her head fell against the shoulder of whoever was holding her. The warmth of the body beneath her rivaled the blood that soaked her hoodie and jeans with each beat of her heart.

“That’s enough!” The words roared through her body, carrying so much rage that she wanted to shrink away from the source, but that took too much energy. And they smelled so good. Like leather and spice and mint beneath the sharp copper tang filling the room. “Do you not see what healing does to her?”

“Fuck, kid.” Tony’s strained curse came from somewhere behind her.

Haley tried to cover her own already-healing wound with her hands, sighing in frustration when her hands were batted away and held in the warm grasp of the one holding her. Her eyes fluttered open to see Loki staring down at her from so close he was almost out of focus, so many emotions she couldn’t grasp simmering beneath the surface of his tightly wound body. “You foolish woman.”

“I heal faster than her,” she countered, closing her eyes as more people flooded into the room. Her initial instinct was to cower and hide from them, but Loki held her tight, and she knew with the truest part of her that he wouldn’t allow more harm to come to her.

Monitors and IVs were hooked up to various parts of her body, poking and prodding and cutting away the hoodie that she loved so dearly to get at her identical wound to Natasha’s on the bed. She was jostled around as Loki moved beneath her, and then she settled upon something soft.

“Can’t you heal yourself, Doc?”

She peeled open her eyes, glancing quickly at her new position on a bed covered in bright white sheets dotted with crimson. Loki stood at her side, arms crossed over his chest and mouth set in a harsh line as he glared daggers at Tony. To his credit, Tony was shifting back and forth on his feet, looking absolutely devastated as his fingers scratched at his immaculately groomed goatee.

“Nope, it doesn’t work that way. But I heal faster than normal people,” she explained, gesturing to her now-bare arm where the burn she had taken from Bruce days ago had faded into new, pink skin that itched like mad. “I owed you guys.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. No,” Tony replied sadly, closing the distance between them to sit on the bed on the opposite side of Loki. “You don’t have to heal any of us. That isn’t the deal here. We never would have asked if we knew what it did to you. That’s not what this is.”

“It’s okay,” she groaned and tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her and she crumbled back against the bed with a frustrated sigh. “I’m used to it.”

“Leave,” Loki hissed, stepping up so that she could see him in her peripheral vision. “I require a moment alone with her.”

“Reindeer Games…”

“I will not harm her,” he snapped, coming around the other side, the side opposite her wound, and gesturing for Tony to move. “Just a moment of privacy.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in question at Haley, and she nodded her permission. Who was to say that he didn’t just make her disappear to wherever his books went to if he didn’t get his way? She didn’t have much of a choice. She never did.

“Don’t go all silent on me again,” she pleaded, watching him fold his long, elegant body onto the bed where Tony had just vacated. His shirt was stained with blood - her blood - molding to his body to reveal finely shaped muscle. That must be how he lifted her so easily. Loki was built. “You’re the closest thing to a friend I have here.”

He cast a critical eye on the bandages wrapped around her middle. “You should not sacrifice yourself for others. It is hardly ever worth it.”

“I-” she scrubbed her hand through her short hair, wincing at the tug of the IV on her wrist. It pumped life-giving blood into her veins, even though she would replenish what she had lost soon enough on her own. “I don’t know any other way to be. These people helped me. I can’t. I can’t lose that.”

“Then you must learn,” he replied sternly, but without the malice she expected dripping from his rich voice. He pulled a folded up blanket from her feet and draped it over her body. “Now, rest, and heal. We can discuss your foolish notions of heroism when you awaken.”

Somehow, even with the man - alien? - staring down at her, she gave in to the fatigue pulling her into the darkness. Heavy and warm, she must have imagined thin fingers curling around hers just before she drifted off to sleep.

Series taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @lokis-high-priestess @myraiswack

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @blah666 @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @silverswordthekilljoy

#loki fanfic #loki #loki x OFC #slow burn #angst #protective!loki #protective loki #helping hands #hopeless writes

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sofiatheicequeen · 4 years ago

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Chapter three

I walk out of the room and close the door, walking over to my room to go lay down on my bed "Ughhh why did they have to come, this is the worst" I say looking at the ceiling. Beej hovers above me and then turns his body to face me while he looks at me he's kicking his feet like a little school girl talking on the phone. "Hey babes are you doing ok" he says with concern in his voice. I grab him pulling him down on top of me into a hug "Yeah I'm fine I may be a little stressed out though with them staying so just be patient with me if that's alright? because to be honest I feel they aren't staying for just a day" I say with a hint of annoyance in my voice. He pulls back from the hug and whispers to me "I will be, don't worry" I get up from my bed after having a dramatic moment. I take Beetlejuices hand and lead him down stairs. I go to the kitchen and start to makes some food for everyone to enjoy since it looks like everyone in the house hasn't eaten. I grab a pot out of the cupboard, put some water in it, and place it on the skillet. I turn on the skillet and start to boil water, I also take out a can of marinara and put it in a pan, placing it on the burner. I start to season the sauce with Italian spice, Basil, and brown sugar. After that I mix the pan making sure the sauce is put up to temperature. I see that the water is now at a rolling boil so, I grab the noodles above me and dump them in the pot. I set a timer for 9 minutes so I can test the noodles when it goes off. I go over and lay on the couch pretending to be a corpse I giggle a little at how stupid I am as I sit up like a normal human being. I look over to see Beej still in the kitchen watching the water boil down the noodles. Soon I hear the timer go off. I grab the strainer, taking the pot of noodles. I pour the noodles into the sink, when I hear Sean and my mom come downstairs. Sean speaks in a loud tone "What are you doing" when he said that I burned my hand on the water and dropped the pot into the sink. I hiss in pain gripping my hand. I look at my hand to see it start to blister from the heat. I speak in a pained voice "Yo Beej can you get me an ice pack please" I say glaring at Sean from him distracting me from what I was doing. I take the ice pack from him and put it in my hand "Can you also finish pouring the noodles into the strainer if the noodles didn't already fall out from me dropping it" I then turn to my family, my mom looking at me with concern and Sean gives me a smartass remark "You should have been paying more attention to what you were doing don't glare at me for you mistake" I roll my eyes and just head upstairs so I can get away from everyone "Hey Beej you can bring the food up here? I'll be eating in my room you can stay and socialize with them if you want" I say closing my door. I take the ice pack off the wound and look at it seeing that the blister has gone down a little from the burn. I go under my bed and take a razor and twirl it in my hand contemplating if I should do it now or not. I put the blade under my pillow as I hear the door start to open. I see Beej with two bowls of spaghetti, he sits down on my bed next to me and hands me some spaghetti along with a thing of garlic bread. I happily take the garlic bread and start to munch on it slowly. I hear a knock on the door I get up with a groan opening the door seeing that it's my mom "I just came to say sorry for how Sean acted down there you know how he can be" she says looking at me with clear embarrassment in her eyes. "Yeah I know I just wish he was a little more considerate about what I am doing like if I'm holding a hot object I don't want to be startled by a loud booming voice, he can see that I am obviously doing something and then he tries to blame me for messing up when he's the one who caused it" My mom looks at me with an understanding and sympathetic look in her eyes. I go in and hug her "Mom just know I'm not mad at you I'm just frustrated at the situation I wasn't expecting anyone to come over may I please have some time to unwind?” I say looking away from her

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x depressed reader #beetlejuice x reader #betelgeuse #beetlejuice angst

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fc5holidayexchange · 5 years ago

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FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

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Title: Gävlebocken

Deputy Mattie Covington/Sharky Boshaw- Mattie and Sharky reunite after a failed trip to burn the Gavle Goat

@ma-sulevin

Hi Kate! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, wherever you are and however you're celebrating! Hope the festive season is full of joy and magic! I had a fabulous time writing Mattie and Sharky together and I hope you enjoy reading it! xxxx

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“All I’m saying, shorty, is never leave a man behind. Marilyn Manson and Carly Rae Jepson wanted to go torch some Gävlebocken butt too, y’know? And who was I to deny them their Bejeebus given right as Incendiary-Americans?”

Mattie cuddled the red-cheeked pyromaniac closer into her chest as she eased his sorrows on the couch. He hadn’t stopped blushing since she’d collected him from Missoula International Airport, where he’d been marched from the building between the firm grip of two unforgiving, no doubt underpaid TSA officers, cuffed at the wrist and short two of his beloved (and musically christened) flamethrowers.

“... you know, they probably sell flamethrowers in Sweden. You could have got one when you got there. Or matches. Shit, there’s plenty of sticks you could have rubbed together too.” She mused, trying to make light of the situation.

Sharky Boshaw was having none of it.

“Nuh-uh, no-can-do. Had to be them, babe.”

“Only the best for the holy grail of goat effigies, I guess?”

He nodded and crushed his face into her.

She couldn’t tell if the residual ruby tinge on his face was from the trauma of his ordeal (though he was hardly a stranger to arrest), from the abundance of alcohol still in his system, or from where the ravenous teeth of a cold winter beast had nibbled at him. December had fallen, and the snow was up to their knees. The smell of evergreen firs and smoky chimneys and roasting meat and fresh gingerbread permeated across the county. Even the sickly scent of Bliss had subsided, the cold-sensitive Georgia peaches known locally as the Seeds having retreated indoors for the season.

Christmas was coming.

Boshaw Manor’s festive decorations were tacky and yet, made with love. The Christmas tree was a little scorched on the edges, and adorned with homemade ornaments that were just beer tops looped onto string. They twinkled rainbow in the glow from the string lights, and tinkled as they clinked against each other. Paper chains and worn tinsel in emerald and silver shades hung from every available surface, and though he had no fireplace, he’d dragged a metal bin into the centre of the living room so they could roast chestnuts and make smores through the long winter nights.

However, Sharky’s favourite holiday accessory was a slightly dusty Santa figurine. He had, at some point, made the toymaker his own little flamethrower from aluminium foil, and the rotund, bushy bearded fellow still clung to it with his moth-eaten mittens, ready to chargrill Rudolph. But truly the highlight of Santa’s unusual skillset, the crown jewel in his sleigh full of secret talents, was the voice recording feature.

From the depths of Santa’s cookie filled belly, Sharky’s voice echoed:

“Burn baby burn… CHRISTMAS INFERNO”

And now, the jolly figure danced laboriously by the door, Boomer resting beside him, snoring along to the increasingly demonic rasp (Mattie made a mental note to replace the batteries).

Of course, this year, Mattie had put her own little touches on the place.

When he’d first taken her in, Earl had given her a little archangel statue, with beautiful, expansive wings, and a majestic flaming blade in it’s right hand, and her name engraved upon it. ‘Matilda means mighty in battle’ he’d explained, pulling her into a hug to assure her of just how strong she was. And last year, Nancy had knitted her a little yellow star, gold flecked through it, to sit atop the tree, and now it sat pride of place, shimmering like the true holy light.

It was slightly overwhelming, to see her things, however few, amongst Sharky’s.

To know that now, she and Sharky could make Christmas memories together.

That was the best gift of all.

And normally, snuggled together on a winter’s night like this, she’d be teasing him, slipping her chilled hands down the back of his shirt, or tickling his neck which made him squirm and giggle the most, or even sticking an icy naked foot into his face when he wasn’t paying attention. Or she’d be letting her hands wander into his pants, and they’d be making love and basking in each other’s glow until the sun came up.

But the sheer misery welling in his eyes, Christmas dreams obliterated and Hall of Flame pedestals empty, like a baby bird beak without a worm to sate it’s hunger, sent a pang of guilt ricocheting through every inch of her. One that made her stomach squirm and her lip quiver. He was her family, and though her dad back in Challis hadn’t exactly been the model of perfect, or even the model of good, she knew with all the certainty in her heart that families weren’t supposed to look so despairing at Christmas.

“What were you thinking, Shark?”

“I, uh… I wanted to surprise you.”

“And you thought running off to Europe to go burn down a giant goat was the best way to do that? I’d have taken socks instead, you know. Or a John Seed's head on a spike.”

She moved to hold his hand, fingers intertwining comfortingly, and he sniffed loudly in appreciation. Mattie felt so complete when her hand was nestled in his- who needed gloves to when you had a hand to hold?

"Just because Hurk nearly got Wicker-manned out in Europe, doesn't mean you have to."

He mumbled in reply, sheepishly resigned to his deeper urges- "I'm a Khaleesi. I go where the flame takes me."

She chuckled softly and teased:

“I know, babe. I know. Who do you think is the one who prints the posters? The whole station is more like a groupie's bedroom."

Mattie cursed the day she’d so catastrophically put her foot in it. A late night drinking and feasting up in the Whitetails, near Fort Drubman, out under the stars and the bleak winter moonlight. A slew of cultist corpses were ragdolled along the path behind them, definitely not having a Merry Christmas, and a skinned Judge or two had fallen prey to Jess’s hungry trapper knife. The pelts would make a fine coat for next year’s snowfall and the burgundy branding of Jacob’s chosen mutts was simply an added trophy for Mattie’s slightly feral friend.

There they were. Mattie, Sharky, Hurk, Jess, and Staci (who'd called in sick from his night shift), with Boomer and Cheeseburger at their heels.

Munching on fish from the iced over rivers.

Getting drunk out of their minds and trying to forget all the shit that the past months had wrought.

The topic of conversation had turned to (what else) fire. They’d just proudly set alight to the old lumber mill, and watched the Peggies scatter like roaches from the scene. Merry on Whistling Beaver beer, Mattie had hiccoughed and giggled after her umpteenth bottle, snuggled under Sharky's arm, and announced loudly:

“Did you guys know there’s a huge ass wicker goat in Sweden? They put it up for Christmas every year and it keeps getting toasted.”

Well, it’s not like she’d expected him to take off a week later towards the airport… after he’d downed probably somewhere near a keg's worth of homemade eggnog… all rum, barely an egg or a nog in sight.

But Charlemagne Victor Boshaw’s eyes had illuminated with possibility, and so had the eyes of the airport security officers at the sizable lethal and flammable weapons he’d packed into his luggage. Having the fuzz for a girlfriend, who could come flaunting an arrest warrant and claim jurisdiction over the prisoner was an absolute saving grace, it turned out. The TSA had handed him over with very little resistance.

And now, here they were, back home in the depths of the county, almost definitely up a couple of places on the ‘no fly’ terror watchlist.

Sharky sat up suddenly and rubbed at his slightly runny nose, a sudden determination taking root in his chest. Spring coming early as a flower bloomed there, petals of fury and vengeance and abject loyalty to his cause.

"We gotta get Carly and Marilyn back. We gotta Ocean’s Eight, Sandra Bullock the airport, po-po. You and me, Hurk, sure we can get Nick and Kim on the crew too, what are we up to, five, Boshaw’s five, Sharky’s five-?“

Mattie nuzzled her face into the top of his head. She was a hell of a lot shorter than him, but he’d sunk into the couch so deeply that she could now smell the scent of his Old Spice shampoo and see the bald patch where he'd thought wearing a crown made of sparklers at Thanksgiving fireworks was a good idea.

“Yeah, I’m sure a woman heavily into her third trimester is gonna really be up for a heist-“

“Kim? Fuck yeah, she can kick butt with a bump, her centre of gravity’s probably on kung fu master levels here. Ooooh, maybe the baby’ll come early and kick some airport ass too.”

“I think it’ll be more like she’ll kick your butt for not inviting me along to go torch the goat."

It was crazy, knowing that next Christmas, there would be a Baby Rye for Santa to visit. And that maybe, in the Christmases to come, there'd be a brood of Baby Boshaws too, ready to tear the tree down and hurl food at each other, giddy in their festive hysteria. She thought about sharing such a fanciful idea with him, and went to murmur a few sweet suggestions in his ruddy ear. Maybe they could make some new dreams tonight...

Sharky wasn’t listening though.

“Maybe we go Die Hard 2 instead… be in keeping with the ol’ time of year?”

“All the guys who break into the airport die in that movie, Shark.”

She sighed and stroked his cheek.

"I think, maybe, as much as it sucks, we just have to let this one go."

He went to open his mouth to protest or beg or maybe come out with another heist movie to take inspiration from, but the words seemed to fizzle away on the end of his tongue. He knew it was futile. She was right. His visions of making the headlines in every Swedish tabloid evaporated, his name destined not to be heralded by enthusiasts of the Gävlebocken legacy. His shoulders sagged and he seemed to want to disappear into his worn green sweatshirt, like a turtle burrowing back into its shell.

"Hey, y'know, who wants to go smoke the goat anyway, much better things to burn here. Seeds and shit."

He settled into moody, reflective, uncharacteristic silence and Mattie knew not to push the subject any further. And while searching her thoughts for a way to soothe his wounds and bring the hope and joy of the festive season back into his heart, she casually leaned over to the table and picked up his abandoned plane ticket, also slightly singed like everything else the man owned (what had happened this time, Mattie couldn’t even begin to guess).

Her stomach dropped.

The rollercoaster was taking an unexpected plunge deeper into irony.

There it was, printed neatly under DESTINATION.

A final foil for the Sharknado that had sought to wreak havoc across the fjords of Scandinavia.

“Shark, babe…”

“Yeah?”

“The big ass goat is in Sweden, right? You know, next to Norway?”

“Home of the dancing queen an' the smorgasbord. Oooh, and the chef.” He proceeded to spit out a garbled string of vowels in poor imitation of the Swedish language.

Mattie sighed and for a moment, debated whether to just keep her mouth shut. To let his Christmas dreams, however shattered, maintain some form of dignity. But laughter pulled at the corners of her mouth, from the singsong Muppetry in her ear and the ridiculous error before her eyes and she just knew it would make him laugh too;

“... Shark, this ticket is for Switzerland.”

He gave her a little confused frown and she wrapped her arms around his neck, to press her forehead, and then her lips softly to his.

“God, I love you so much.”

He returned her kiss, sharing her warmth and the sweet taste of hot cocoa and a sprig of mint and melted marshmallow, running his hands through her wind-swept hair. They lost themselves in each other, forgetting the snow falling fast outside, and the bodies across the county buried deep amongst the icy grass, and the slowly fading tire tracks from their long journey home.

And wrapped in the comforting embrace of her best friend, Mattie’s imagination shone.

A flame taking to the tinder, spreading until it burned so strongly, it could never be extinguished.

----------

"My extremities are getting real cold, chica, an' I'm too young to lose my junk t’ frostbite."

"Don't worry, you'll be warm soon enough."

"Heh heh, sounds like a party."

Mattie had led Sharky through the dark forestry, the trees naked and sparse like a threadbare patchwork blanket. They'd walked for some time, boots snapping the carpet of fallen branches and crunching in the deep snow and squeaking over patches of icy oil spills across the roads, until they'd reached a pasture south of the Henbane.

And now, in the early hours of the morning, he stood blindfolded, Mattie's hands protectively on his shoulders (although she'd been tempted to mischievously let him wander into a patch of shrubbery or two, but decided she didn't want to be pulling thorns and thistles out of his ass all night).

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost."

A few more steps, up a slight incline, the frozen grass snapping underfoot.

“OK, you can look now.”

Sharky tore off the blindfold in childlike impatience and his eyes widened at the sight he beheld.

Before them, silhouetted by the amber light from surrounding torches and the staring full moon, stood a large wicker goat.

A Gävlebocken… well, a Hopebocken.

A warm earthy brown, as though the trees hadn’t perished weeks before, with bark flaking from it to make the fur seem shaggy, thick, truly like a majestic beast from the hills of Scandinavia, with fleece enough to shroud a Viking king. Horns magnificent upon its head, red and gold Christmas ribbons adorning them like Roman wreaths. His nose was round and his face was long and he stood watch upon the hill, noble, a guardian, a protector.

And at his feet were gathered the artists of this crudely fashioned idol. Nick and Kim, Hurk and Adelaide and Xander, Dutch and Jess, Jerome and Mary May, Virgil and Wade and Eli and Tammy and Merle… it seemed the whole county, faces beaming and hands willing, had stepped forward to play their part in Sharky's Christmas miracle.

Mattie watched Sharky take a stunned step forward.

"I wanted to surprise you." She whispered into his ear, taking his hand and giving it a little squeeze.

And there was that smile she loved so much. His eyes crinkled in the corners and a laugh catapulted itself from deep in his throat into the night air. It rose like a ball of light, and exploded into a thousand stars to light the county and every county beyond it.

"I… I…" He stammered, pupils dilated, entranced, and he turned back to face the love of his life, choking on the wonderment and the realisation of just what she had done for him. “I can…?”

“You bet.”

“And I ain’t gonna get arrested?”

“Like that’s bothered you before?” She grinned and watched as he jumped and whooped, punching the air. Overwhelmed with adrenaline. Crying her name to the heavens, unabashedly proclaiming how much he loved her and all who had come to give him this gift.

“Shark… Shark?”

His head spunt to gaze at her.

An almost breathless gasp escaped him.

And the look on his face made Mattie want to throw herself upon him and never let go.

In her outstretched arms, lay a new flamethrower, blue and purple disco graffiti emblazoned on the side, and a big red bow ornately tied along the neck. She carefully placed it in his hands, and he weighed it, mesmerized, feeling the perfect balance of the full canister of fuel, and the soon-to-be warmed steel. Tears bloomed in the corners of his as he grasped it. As he readied himself for the greatest bonfire of his life.

“Merry Christmas, babe.”

She placed a careful kiss on his lips.

“Now… go toast that goat.”

#Deputy/Sharky Boshaw #Sharky Boshaw #Deputy oc #Christmas fluff #cuddling #present giving #comforting #mentions of fire and arson #mention of dead bodies #mention of skinning animals #fc5holidayexchange #gift: fic #ma-sulevin #submission

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nialledfromfics · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter Three – At The Hop

(make sure to click the link in the chapter title for an instant throwback~enjoy!!)

“Chocolate malt.”

It was Vivian’s favorite treat. At least once a week after classes ended, the gang–mainly consisting of Cliff, Johnny and Vivian’s best friend, Cherry–would all go over to Betty’s Diner and have a soda. Viv always chose to have a malt instead. Ice cream was a bit of a weakness for her. Especially as the long days grew warmer in the south, it was nice to end a school day with a cool treat.

Sat at a booth with her friends, Vivian occupied the end seat with Johnny slid in beside her and had Cherry sitting across. The dark haired girl quietly sipped on a Dr. Pepper and shared a serving of french fries with Cliff. A few days had passed since Vivian’s date with Niall, not having told a soul that it even happened. She had decided to keep the lovely little evening all to herself but Cherry was a perceptive, and quite deviant, girl and she knew by the glow in Vivian’s eyes and the unmarked smile on her lips, that something interesting had happened that past weekend. She just had to get it out of her. “So, Viv,” the inquisitive young woman began, snatching a fry from the red basket and taking a nibble on the end, “what’d ya get up to on Saturday night?”

Her question caught Vivian off guard, mainly because she had already asked her the same question the day before and Vivian had politely answered that she had stayed home to study. Cherry knew she was lying. She knew her best friend all too well. Clearing her throat, she shot Cherry a tight lipped grin and glanced over at Cliff, who was engaged in some meaningless debate with Johnny. “Nothin’,” Viv told her, lifting a shoulder, “remember I told ya I stayed home?”

“Yeah, to ‘study’,” Cherry exasperated with a roll of her eyes, “I heard by a little birdie that you–”

“Cherry!”

“Oh, shit,” Cliff pelted out mid sentence, the outburst causing the attention of both girls to snap to him. “What’s that son of a bitch doin’ here?”

Twisting her head to look over her shoulder just as the tiny bell on the door rang out, Vivian’s heart nearly ceased when she saw Niall walk into the diner. His gaze caught hers for a mere moment as he peered around the place and he flashed her a smirk before sauntering over to an empty booth on the other side of the diner. Vivian pulled in a shaky breath, trying her best to collect herself before slowly turning back around to her friends. Cherry’s eyes went big, noticing the heavy flush that was quickly invading her friend’s cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath. Holding her green eyes steady down at the malt glass sitting before her, Viv leaned in to take a distracting sip.

Cliff nodded his head in Niall’s direction, the Irishman facing towards them in his booth and talking to the waitress that had just walked up to take his order. “Guess I should go say hello, huh?”

“Yeah!” Johnny piped in.

Vivian whipped her stare up. “Cliff, no,” she said, the stern tone of her voice causing him to peer over at her, “leave him alone. He’s done nothin’ to ya.”

He furrowed his brow. “So?”

“So, don’t cause a scene!” she went on, shaking her head with raised brows. “It’s not necessary and you know what my father would say.”

The table fell quiet and Cliff slid his stare away from Vivian’s, slumping back into the booth. “Fine,” he grumbled, picking up his soda to take a sip, “but I don’t like him bein’ here...this is our turf.”

With her brown eyes still stuck to her friend, Cherry bit the smirk off her red lips before speaking up. “Hey, Viv, goin’ to the ladies room, wanna come with?”

Vivian sighed before nodding her head. “Yeah, sure.”

Both girls slipped from the booth, leaving the boys to chat on their own. Cherry hooked her arm around Vivian’s as they began to walk towards the restrooms and Viv was quick to realize that the facilities were clear on the other side of the diner and they had to pass right by Niall to get there. There was a mischievous gleam in Cherry’s eyes as the girls shuffled past him, and she closely took note of the reaction of both Vivian and Niall. A nervous share of smiles upon unbroken eye contact, a faint giggle befalling her best friend when he winked at her and the second she yanked Viv into that tiny restroom, Cherry was already clawing for details.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” she asked, the dark haired girl swinging around to face Vivian as she settled her bottom against the sink.

Vivian pressed her eyes closed for a moment and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” she tried to argue.

Rolling her eyes, Cherry let out a huff. “The boy at the table, the drifter. It was him, wasn’t it? I saw the way you were lookin’ at him!”

The girl bit at her bottom lip, her green eyes slipping away from her best friend and falling to the white tiled floor. “Oh my! It was!” Cherry finished with a gasp.

Dropping her arms to her side, Vivian teetered her head back and forth, her ponytail brushing along her shoulders as she flicked her stare up to the ceiling in annoyance. “Alright, it was him,” she admitted, bringing her gaze back to Cherry, “but I don’t want anyone knowin’.”

“I can’t believe you went out on a date with him…”

“Cherry, shhh!”

“I’m only sayin’...” she shrugged.

Vivian giggled, a softness floating over her face as thoughts of Niall began to trickle into her head. “He is a bit a dream, isn’t he?”

Pushing out a breath, Cherry smiled at her friend. “Viv, he is the livin’ end,” she sighed out, Vivian trying to cover the grin that was sweeping across her pink shimmered lips. “Oh, you have to tell me everythin’!”

Vivian shook her head. “There’s nothin’ to tell, Cherry,” she began, her green eyes glued to her friend’s face, vastly aware of the disbelieving look she was showing her, “his name’s Niall, we went out to the drive-in, had a nice time and…that was it.”

Cherry crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing a bit and willing to take the inquisition just a step further. “Did he kiss you? Did ya get all frisky in the backseat?”

“You know I’m not fast like that, Cher!” Viv rebuffed, perching her hands on her hips. “And no, no kiss…”

“You gonna go out with him again?” Cherry asked with a raised brow.

“I dunno,” Vivian answered, pushing out a tiny sigh as she peeked up at the slightly flickering lights on the ceiling, “he hasn’t asked me.”

Cherry forced a smile on her red lips. “He will,” she told Viv as she spun around to peer at herself in the mirror, “just don’t let your Daddy find out…”

She caught her friends glance in the mirror before gently nodding and dropping her gaze to the toes of her shoes. A quiet fell between the two girls, Cherry busy fussing with the pin curls in her hair and Viv becoming occupied with the nagging thought about what her father might say if he did catch her out with Niall. And with watching the sole of her saddle shoe trace the grout in the floor tile. “So, tell me again why this boy didn’t kiss you?” Cherry finally spoke up, Viv’s attention shooting back to that of her friend’s reflection in the mirror. She was leaned in, fine tuning the feathered lines of her crimson lipstick.

“It just...didn’t happen. Not the right time, I suppose,” Vivian shrugged.

Cherry turned her head to look at Viv over her shoulder. “It’s always the right time for kissin’. Were ya bein’ stuck up?”

Vivian’s brows crinkled slightly with the insinuation. It wasn’t meant to be harsh, Cherry was just like that. She didn’t beat around the bush, no matter who you were. She told it like it was and made sure her opinions were heard. And she had a lot of opinions. Vivian supposed it was what made them click so well. She was the sugar and Cherry was the spice. The Veronica to her Betty. And while Vivian would never tell Cherry to her face, there were just some aspects of how she conducted herself–mainly with boys–that Viv really tried to ignore. But it was who she was, and Vivian loved her regardless and she knew that anything Cherry said to her, brach or otherwise, was meant with care.

Vivian smiled at her friend, tipping her chin up just a bit. “He was being a gentleman.”

Rolling her eyes, Cherry turned back towards the mirror. “He wouldn’t have to be a gentleman with me,” she mumbled

“Cherry!”

“I’m just sayin’, you don’t have to be so uptight all the time. Have a little fun, Viv,” she said, pushing her chest out and undoing the top buttons on her sweater so it sat open just a bit more across her bust. “There’s nothin’ wrong with lettin’ the boy kiss ya.”

“I did have fun,” Vivian shot back, her voice soft as she spoke. “He was nice to talk to, he was sweet.”

Cherry quickly spun around to face her friend. “Viv, you think sweet’s gonna last? A boy like that isn’t into talkin’. Believe me, if you don’t give him what he wants, he’s just gonna find somebody else who will.” Pausing to take a step towards Vivian, Cherry reached out and planted her hands on her friends shoulders, giving her a faint sigh. “You know I love you,” she went on, tipping her head to the side, “but you gotta lighten up.”

Vivian stood with her lips falling to a silent part as she watched her friend shrug and walk out, leaving her alone in the ladies room. Her mind began to reel: did Cherry have a point? Was she the reason Niall didn’t try to kiss her? He had said that she wasn’t like the other girls back home, is that what he meant? Vivian peered over at the swinging bathroom door, swallowing hard. If she wanted Niall to like her–really like her–would she have to behave more like Cherry? Be a bit more forward with him?

Squeezing her eyes closed in a sigh, Vivian shook the inane thoughts from her head before leaving the bathroom.

Niall had been munching on some french fries, his elbow planted on the table as he held one between his fingertips, when Cherry walked out of the restroom. He looked up right as the brunette vixen passed by, catching her dark stare and the flirty little wink that she had thrown his way. His light eyes trailed the girl as she tugged at the shoulders of the small sweater that hugged her body and sat back down at her table. Cherry peeked up at him, the two sitting in line’s eye of each other and he popped his fry into his mouth right as he heard the restroom door swing open once more behind him.

His attention snapped over his shoulder and Niall caught sight of Vivian, her head hanging down as she kept her stare on the floor. A softness came over his face as he watched her, a warmth prickling up to his cheeks and just as she stepped past him, Niall reached out and grabbed the tips of her fingers. Startled by his touch, Vivian’s feet faltered on the checked tiles, her green eyes floating from the wrap of his three fingers around hers up to his face.

She was greeted with a smirk, a charming one that made her swallow hard to try and tame the butterflies that were going wild in her belly before she slowly slid her hand from his grasp. Her lips pressed in a thin line and she glanced over at her friends, Cliff busy in a conversation with Johnny but Cherry staring heavily at them. “Hey, Vivian,” Niall mumbled beside her, and Vivian’s gaze was right back on him.

“Hi,” she replied, giving him a shy, but sincere smile. His blue eyes lit up and he kindly offered her to sit. She was worried that Cliff would see her talking to Niall. That he would get angry and cause a scene, and that was the last thing she wanted. But it was hard for her to ignore the way Niall was looking at her, the way his voice sounded when he said her name. Vivian shook her head. “I really shouldn’t.”

Niall slumped back in the booth, picking a cigarette from a pack that laid on the table and pinched it between his lips. Lighting it up, he took a small puff as he peered up at Vivian. “I had fun with ya the other night.”

A pink hue submerged the white in Vivian’s cheeks and she rolled her eyes in a small huff, glancing down at her toes. “You can’t be sayin’ that.”

“Why not?” he chuckled,

Viv shot her eyes back up to his. “ ‘Cause someone might hear ya and get the wrong impression ‘bout us.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up and he flicked the ash from his cigarette as he leaned forward. “And what impression would that be?”

“That I’m your girl.”

Tipping his head to the side, his teasing eyes darted over hers. “Are ya not me girl?”

Vivian breathed out a sheepish smile at his words and reached up to slide her fingertips through the side of her hair. “Well, I–

“Viv!” The sound of Cherry’s voice made her jump, and she watched as her friends stood up from their booth. “We’re leavin’, c’mon...”

Vivian looked back at Niall. “I’m sorry, I better go,” she whispered with a faint shrug.

The young man rounded his lips in a turned down smile and gave her an acknowledging nod. Niall knew she didn’t really want to go, that she just felt as if she didn’t have a choice. He also knew he had to play it safe with this girl, there were so many things that could go wrong and maybe it was best if he just left her alone. But man, he just couldn’t help himself–he wanted to be with her. No matter the cost. Swallowing hard at the quietness from him, Vivian turned away to take a step towards her friends before she felt his hand reach out for her again. The infectious heat of his touch jolted her skin and made her pause in her tracks and she peeked back at him over her shoulder. “I wanna take ya out again tonight, maybe to Sunday’s to get ice cream, would that be alright?”

Her teeth sunk down into her bottom lip, more to contain the excitement and nerves that was rushing through her body than anything. Niall’s brows raised at Vivian’s reaction, noticing the trembling of her fingers against his palm as he waited for her answer. The words were hanging off the tip of her tongue like a mountain climber who had taken a wrong step and she flicked her eyes over to her friends, just as they had started to make their way through the diner door. Cliff had his eyes on the two of them, narrowed and glaring as Cherry struggled to rush him out with her hands planted at his upper back.

Pulling in a shallow breath, Niall sensed her tension and faintly brushed his thumb across her knuckles. The soft gesture made her heart start to calm and Vivian slowly looked back over at Niall. No matter what, nothing was going to stop her from being with him. Nothing. “I’d love to,” she grinned.

*****

Vivian made sure to freshen up a bit before taking off to meet Niall at the shop later that evening. She had grabbed a thicker wool sweater–the nights still on the cool side–and touched up her pink lipstick and she was knocking on his door by seven thirty. The only entrance to the tiny apartment above the shop was right through the garage, behind his motorcycle and a broken-down car that was propped up on a jack and past all the dirty used tools and empty tin canisters. The concrete floor was no longer visible, splattered in some kind of dark grease and the whole space reeked like an oil spill but Vivian patiently waited for Niall, making sure to keep her clothes as clean as she could within the mess.

Niall came bounding down the wooden staircase to the garage when he heard her knock, opening the door with a smirk. Vivian’s eyes caught his, but not before she was able to take in the full sight of him. He really was a dream. Oh so handsome with his slicked back hair and black leather jacket, Niall licked lightly across his lips as he stepped out of his door and let it close behind him. The young woman tipped her head back slightly and gave him a smile, soft and timid, her bright green eyes drenching over his.

One thing was for certain, just one look from her could make Niall’s heart skip a thousand beats.

“You ready to go?” the Irishman managed to ask her.

Vivian nodded. “Sure.”

She spun around, her shoes clicking on the hard surface of the floor as she began to walk back out towards her parked car. “Thought maybe we’d take me bike instead…” Niall spoke up.

Turning around to look at him, Vivian crinkled her brow. She had just fixed her hair, put on a clean outfit and he wanted to–

But then she paused at her own thoughts, quickly remembering how it had felt having her arms wrapped around him and her body pressed to his the last time she rode with him. Why was she even fighting it? A smile etched across Vivian’s lightly painted lips as she stepped closer to him. “Sure, why not?” she shrugged.

“Grand,” Niall said with a grin. He rushed over to the wooden workbench and grabbed the keys before situating himself on his motorcycle. “Hop on,” he told her.

Biting at her bottom lip, Vivian slid the band on her purse down her forearm and grabbed at Niall’s shoulders, climbing up onto the bike behind him. She nestled down, as comfortably as she had before, and slid her arms around his midsection. The coolness of the leather hit her chin as she leaned in and he slowly backed the bike out of the garage before starting up the engine and taking off down the street.

Sunday’s Ice Cream and Shake Shop was only a few miles down main street, off the corner of Prescott Avenue and behind Hank’s Handyman Store. By the time Niall and Vivian roared around the corner into the packed parking lot of Sunday’s, her grip on him had become practically deathly. He noticed first that her fingers were twisted into the thin material of his t-shirt as he slowed and the cycle came to a stop, and then she noticed. Her eyes had somehow fallen closed, her body snuggling up against his and as he sat up a bit straighter and switched off the engine, Vivian was acutely aware of just where her hands were on him: inside the flaps of his jacket.

She had been so tightly wrapped around him that both her palms had slid inside the warmth of either side of his open jacket, pressed against his chest and feeling the rumbles of the motorcycle throughout his body. As if the vibration wasn’t enough between her legs. Pulling in a faint breath, Niall glanced back at her when she didn’t move, the edge of his mouth tugging up and Vivian realized what she was doing, what she could feel under the splay of her hands, before she simply eased them away.

Her green eyes opened and there was no mistaking the surprised hush that had fallen over the car hop and that every single stare was on them. It was pretty common for the young people in town to come out to Sunday’s for ice cream in the evenings, a fun place to hang out and chat without the pry of adults, but for Vivian the place seemed even more crowded than usual. Clearing her throat, the girl rested her hands on Niall’s shoulders and swung her leg around, stepping down from the bike. Niall followed, flicking the kickstand up before reaching into his back pocket to pull out a black plastic comb.

Vivian tried her best to tame down the strands of hair that had been displaced from her ponytail because of the wind and she peeked over, watching as Niall slipped the comb along the sides of his head. She bit off the smile that started to form as he caught her stare, giving her a coy little wink.

That was enough to leave her breathless, and she dipped her head down in a soft giggle. Niall offered to go and get them something from the counter and he returned moments later with a chocolate cone for him and strawberry for Vivian. Everyone had eventually gone back to minding their own business, Vivian catching a few conspicuous stares and whispers among them as her and Niall rested their bottoms against the side of his bike.

“I didn’t dare tell my parents where I was off to tonight,” Vivian told Niall, her eyes almost cross-eyed at her cone as she licked at the ice cream.

“Yeah?”

Vivian nodded. “I told ‘em I was goin’ out with my friend, Cherry.”

“Why’d ya tell ‘em that?” Niall huffed.

She peered over at him, raising her brow. “My daddy would not be havin’ this,” she said before nodding down towards his motorcycle, “and on the bike, too? He’d have me with the switch in a second, I’ll tell ya that much.”

They both started to laugh, knowing full well that if everyone in town seeing them together had caused such a commotion, there would be hell to pay if her father were to find out. Niall leaned closer towards Vivian, his mouth coming just shy of her earlobe. “Better just have to keep us a secret for now then, love, what ya say?”

Vivian’s movements froze, and not from the ice cold of the dessert in her hand. His breath was hot on her skin, excruciatingly hot, and it made her eyes flutter out of her control. Straining to catch a breath, she slowly turned her head to look over at the boy next to her. His heavy lidded stare, his warmth, his proximity was sending all sorts of new sensations crashing inside her. “Us?” she stammered, not wanting to fight the concept of an ‘us’, but so worried about how Niall was making her feel–really feel deep down–and what that all meant.

Niall cocked a brow and licked some chocolate ice cream off his upper lip. “I guess–...well, Miss Vivian, I been meanin’ to ask ya–”

A loud, obnoxious car honk startled both Vivian and Niall, their trance being broken off of one another and flying to the Ford Fairlane that had come to a screeching halt in the middle of the parking lot. The fire rose to the apples of Vivian’s cheeks. She knew that car. She knew that person driving it. And, surprisingly, she knew the girl sitting next to him.

It was Cliff and Cherry was with him.

Viv watched with an incredulous stare as Cliff got out of his car and slammed his door shut, leaning his back up against the side of it. He was glaring wildly at Niall, so intensely Viv was sure everyone could feel it. Cherry hopped out and skipped over to Cliff, her gum smacking in her mouth as he hooked an arm around her shoulders. Vivian’s eyes went wide and she could barely believe what she was seeing. What was going on? Was Cherry with Cliff now? That couldn’t be, Vivian thought, she doesn’t even like him.

Shaking her head, she furrowed her brow and heard Niall let out a huff. He knew exactly what was about to happen. And he wanted nothing to do with it. “Fuckin’ great,” he muttered under his breath, chucking his half eaten cone to the ground before he reached in the pocket of his t-shirt to pull out a cigarette.

Cliff stepped away from Cherry, her attention, along with every other person in the parking lot, anticipating the interaction that was about to go down. Crossing his arms over his chest, Cliff cocked his head back. “So, what do we have here, huh?” he shouted out, clear that making a spectacle was his full intention.

Niall held up his hands. “I told ya before, mate, I don’t want no trouble.”

Cliff belted out a devious chuckle. “No trouble, eh? Then what do ya think you’re doin’? I already warned ya before, and yet, here ya are again, on my turf. A fuckin’ mick like you on a date with my fuckin’ girl?”

Vivian’s mouth dropped open and she took a step forward. Niall tried to reach out to her, but there was no stopping her. “Clifford Wilson, how dare you!” she began to contest, tossing her cone in aggravation and shaking a finger at him. “You are unbelievably dim, you know that? Don’t you ever call him that again. You leave him alone, and leave me alone! Just go home, okay? And for the record, I am not your girl!”

“Viv, you stay the hell out of this!” he yelled back at her. “This is between me and him…”

The last word came out in a growl, a vicious angry growl with only one inflection and Cliff rounded his shoulders, pushing his long sleeves back as he took step after step closer. Peeking back at Niall, the young man already had his gaze on her and she gently shook her head, her lips parted in a wordless pout. Niall was well aware of what Cliff wanted from him, and he pinched his cigarette between his lips as he gave Vivian a nod to calm her. Slugging his leather jacket off his shoulders, he laid it across the seat of his bike, Vivian watching with furrowed brows before she quickly rushed over to stand in front of him.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered to him, placing a palm right at the peak of his chest. She felt the heavy beat of his heart–thump thump, thump thump–and it rightfully matched her own. Niall’s stare slipped across the delicate worrisome features of Vivian’s face before he glanced down at her hand, a tiny smile spreading over his mouth.

He reached up, placing his hand on top of hers. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, love,” he said, attempting to reassure her, his thumb rubbing over her tender skin. “Just make sure, no matter what, ya don’t get in the way. I don’t want anythin’ happenin’ to ya.”

Swallowing hard, Vivian couldn’t speak, the only words she could think of stuck in her throat. She knew there wasn’t any way she could stop what was going to happen, so she just gingerly nodded at him and stepped to the side. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Niall let the billow of smoke ease past his lips, not moving a muscle as Cliff drew in closer. If he wanted a fight, Niall was going to make him come to him. Vivian’s palms were sweating as she flicked her stare between the two boys, so much so that she harshly grabbed around the material of her skirt at her sides to discreetly wipe them off. Her green eyes grew big; her chest rising and falling with each labored breath she took as Cliff finally inched right up to Niall.

Neither guy faltered; both standing their ground. Cliff was not about to let this drifter steal something that belonged to him and Niall was not about to let him think that Vivian was his possession to steal. If it was a fight that Cliff wanted, it was a fight that he was going to get. “C’mon then, big guy, let’s see what ya got,” Cliff tried to provoke, the words floating right over Niall.

Narrowing his eyes, Niall plucked the cigarette from his lips and dropped the butt at his feet, blowing the smoke right into his opponents face.

That was enough to piss Cliff off. He screamed, a guttural, almost unnatural, yell that echoed throughout the eerily silent car hop before he jerked his fist back and threw a punch. Niall ducked out of the way, Cliff lunging forward and stumbling over Niall’s bike before he swung back around and was met with the crack of Niall’s fist at his eye. Vivian gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth as she, and about fifty other bystanders watched the two boys wrestle and throw punches in the middle of the parking lot. They grabbed at one another, pushing and punching, fists making contact with faces and knees making contact with stomachs and it was all Vivian could do but watch with horror as they fought like two feral animals in heat.

Scrambling out of Cliff’s hold, Niall, already covered in a few bloody cuts, crouched down and pointed to his chin. “Fuckin’ hit me,” he taunted between gritted teeth, “you know you wanna...just fuckin’ do it, ya bastard!”

Cliff sneered, blood dripping from a busted lip and his eye already swelling shut from the decent hit that Niall had gotten in earlier, and he wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand before lunging towards Niall once more. Moving fast, the boys both spun around as Cliff missed and Niall let out a laugh, the sound confusing Cliff and letting Niall get a heavy uppercut punch right to his nose. Blood spurt across the pavement, the crowd cheering and cringing and Cliff stumbled backwards, trying to shake off the stun of the hit as Niall turned to look over at Vivian.

She had a tear welling up in the brim of her eye as her stare wandered from his scuffed shoes to the disheveled mess of his hair, wanting with everything in her to just run to him and wrap him in her arms and keep him safe. But it was the little grin that cracked across his swollen lips that made her breath ease from her tightened lungs. His blue eyes swam over hers, and he stood up straight just about to take a step towards her.

He didn’t realize that Cliff had regained his balance. He didn’t notice that Cliff had started to barrel towards him. He didn’t even register as Cliff tackled him to the ground. Niall only heard the blood curdling scream of Vivian as he went down and his head hit the pavement.

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall fanfic #niall au #au #greaser!niall #forbidden love #ttwy #chapter 3 #👀 things may be goin down yall.......#hahah #really hope you enjoy #please take a min to read #share share share #and let me know what you think!!!!

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ilovemybirdy · 5 years ago

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When Heartbeats Collide Chapter 1

Kairi, a budding pop star is out of luck when her music producer suddenly has to take a leave of absence. But an up and coming producer by the name of Sora could be just what she needs to finish her album (and spice up her life).

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Chapter 1: A New Partnership

“Click, tap tap, click.” the sounds of my laptop echoed in the small studio room. Often times, I liked to coop up in here whenever inspiration struck; and last night I had been fortunate enough to strike a gold mine of it. I had been re-watching sleeping beauty for the millionth time and upon this particular re-watch the movie had made me think about the implications of love at first sight. Or I guess, in her case love at first sleep. I thought that it might be an interesting metaphor to talk about love from a dream like state of mind or perspective. I wanted to emulate an airy sound and make the listener feel like they were up in the clouds listening to angels.

I had finished the first verse, the chorus, and had settled on doing the song in Bflat minor. As I hummed potential melodies to myself, a sudden knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in!” I called. The door clicked open and my assistant Selphie entered.

“Hey Kairi! How’s the song writing going today?” she asked. She gently smiled at me and walked over.

“Well… I’m having trouble thinking of a bridge and a second verse, but other than that I’m making good progress.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” she exclaimed. “I know you’ve been having writer’s block lately, so it’s great you finally un-stuck yourself. Unfortunately, you’ll have to finish working on this later; your meeting starts in 10.” She checked her watch and gave me an apologetic look. I glanced at the time on my phone: 11:50PM. Right on the dot, as Selphie always was.

“Oh fun,” I groaned. “My favorite part of the month.”

“That’s why I brought you your favorite: iced caramel coffee with a shot of espresso and extra creamer!” I had been so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t yet noticed the coffee in her hand. “I also got you one of those overpriced snack boxes at Papoubucks because I know you forget to eat when you go into these creative frenzies. Seriously! You’ve been in here for hours.” The time had really flown by; we had gotten here around 8 and it was already noon now.

“Thanks Selph. I swear, I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“Probably starve to death and go into cardiac arrest from caffeine withdrawal.”

We erupted into a fit of giggles at the snide remark. As I took a much, much needed sip of coffee (my insomnia had been particularly bad lately) Selphie helped me pack up my belongings. On the walk to the conference room I began explaining my new song to her.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” she asked.

“Some contenders I have are dreamy, cloud, and maybe rem? You know, the stage of sleep you have dreams in. Or at least that’s what web MD said.”

“I never like looking up medical problems on there, it just always tells me that I have cancer and that I’m going to die or that I’m pregnant,” she chortled. “Out of those names though I think I like rem the best.”

“Selphie, you’re supposed to take the advice from websites like that with a grain of salt.” I giggled, before continuing. “But yeah, I think I’ll go with rem; it has more meaning behind it than the other names.”

“Look sometimes I get curious and can’t resist looking my symptoms up! Anyway, it sounds like you’re making a really sweet love song! It’s a pretty interesting concept too. I’m sure I’ll love it when you’re done with it.”

Our conversation came to a halt as we arrived at the conference room. We took our seats in the black leather chairs, and unpacked our belongings as members of my team arrived. Selphie readied a pen and notebook to record important points from the meeting. Glancing up, I saw my manager Aqua make her entrance. We made eye contact and she smiled warmly at me; I grinned back. She always wore suits, but today she was sporting a slightly more casual outfit: a navy button up shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Her black heels clicked on the tiles and I noticed that she had her sleeves rolled up; probably due to the recent heatwaves. Destiny Islands was famous for having the highest temperatures out of all the worlds, especially during summer.

The rest of my team followed suit behind Aqua: Olette (the head of my PR team), Xion (head of my marketing team), and Marluxia (performance coordinator). Olette was donning a flowing orange sundress with wedge sandals, Xion was wearing a sleek grey suit, and Marluxia was sporting a pink polo shirt with jeans. Aqua briefly scanned the room to make sure all members of my team were accounted for before starting.

“Alright guys let’s get started. I know I want to take my lunch break just as much as you all,” Aqua said. The room filled with soft laughter at the cheeky comment.

“First things first, let’s check in with you Kairi. How much progress have you made on your album since our last update?”

“Well…” I fidgeted with my pen as I skimmed over my notes. “I have about 5 songs that I finished writing lyrics for. I’m in the process of finish a 6thsong right now. How much time do I have left before the album has to be finalized?”

Aqua paused for a moment and glanced at her laptop.

“I met with Mickey, the head of the department and he said he’d like to have it finalized by September so… that gives you about 4 more months. He also said you needed to have at least 10 songs on the album, if not more.”

“That’s cutting a little bit short but as long as I have Pence to help me finish writing it should be okay. Is he going to be back soon?”

“Well… about that. Pence’s younger brother finally found a kidney donor.”

“Really?! That’s great!” I smiled and clasped my hands. They had been waiting for 6 months at this point. I sighed in relief, things would finally be okay for Pence’s family again.

“I know!” Aqua beamed back at me. “However, because of that he’s decided to take a leave of absence to help out his family back in Twilight Town. Which unfortunately means we have no music producer for you for a while. However, no need to fear manager Aqua is here! I’ve already recruited some local producers to replace Pence in the meantime. If you don’t click with any, I can always look for more candidates, but it would be easier if you chose one of them for convivence’s sake. I’ll email you their resumes and sample songs for you to look over later. I even took the liberty to schedule interviews with them for this evening so we can get the ball rolling ASAP.”

My anxiety began to flare up at the prospect of interviewing strangers. Writing music was such an emotional and personal process for me; not to mention with someone completely new. Pence had helped me write some of my greatest radio hits and I trusted him so much. It was going to be difficult having to go without him this time.

“Thanks, Aqua, I’ll look over them during lunch. When are the interviews?” I responded, trying to mask the shakiness in my voice. I hid my hands under the table as they shook.

“I have 3 candidates; interviews start at 3PM with 30 minute time blocks for each candidate. Don’t worry, you’ll get out of here no later than 5 today. And with that out of the way, let’s move on to the next topic!”

Chatter broke out into the room and I began munching on my snack. Olette and Selphie discussed some modeling opportunity for ‘Destiny’ magazine, but I was barely paying attention. I breathed slowly, trying to calm down from the anxiety eating away at me until Olette interjected.

“Hey Kairi, have you heard of the Radiant Garden Met Gala? Yuffie is one of the fashion designers for this year; I met her at a networking conference last week. Apparently, she’s a big fan of yours and asked if she could have the honor of designing for you!” She pushed a stray hair behind her ear as she beamed at me excitedly.

The Met Gala was one of the biggest annual fashion events throughout all the worlds. While I never really cared for the press at big events, getting dressed up and admiring all of the designer’s hard work was my favorite thing about red carpet events.

“I’d love to attend, Selphie do I have room in my schedule for it?”

“Mmmmm…” she paused as she flipped through her planner, “Yeah! It is cutting it a bit close to your performance for the Island’s summer fest but definitely doable. Olette, can you give me Yuffie’s email so that I can coordinate the consultation and fitting?”

Olette nodded and began typing away at her laptop. Xion then stepped up to show some new merch designs for the team to look over on the projector. Aqua and I approved some, and requested alterations on others for her team to work on. Marluxia and Selphie then discussed some future performance dates. By the time the meeting was finished, my coffee and snack box were no more. Everyone fled out of the room saying their goodbyes quickly, excited for lunch.

“Hey Kairi, what are you in the mood for? Why don’t you go prepare for those interviews while I go pick up lunch?” Selphie asked.

“How about comfort food? Maybe some pad thai from that Asian place on Shinjitsu street?” I desperately needed something to calm my nerves with how on edge I felt.

“Oh, I love their orange chicken! I’ll head out now, be back in a flash! I wanna take a look at those resumes too when I get back. A new producer, how exciting!” she squealed. Grabbing her purse, she dashed out the door. I quickly packed up and headed back to my studio room. Once there, I made myself comfortable at the desk and pulled up my email.

Hey sweetheart!

Here are the 3 candidates I’ve picked out for you: Hayner, Seifer , and Sora. The first two have worked with some of my other artists I manage, and Sora was a recommendation from Xion herself. Apparently, they went to college together and he works with some of her other merchandise clients. As a reminder, interviews start at 3PM! I’ve told them to just meet you in your studio. Good luck and remember to check in with me tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Aqua

Artist Manager at Destiny Island Records

Deciding it was best to just go in order, I clicked on the first file titled ‘hayner.docx’. Previous artists he’d worked with included big names like Yuna and Paine. Yuna was well known for fast paced hip hop EDM songs and Paine did a lot of alternative rock. At least he was multifaceted, but neither genre was exactly my cup of tea. I clicked on the links to the sample songs listed but was only slightly impressed.

Then, I pulled up Seifer’s resume. Apparently, he’d been behind some of the top hits lately; many that I knew and enjoyed. I didn’t even need to take a listen to the samples; I knew the songs already. However, his style didn’t fit the vibe I was trying to go for on this album. It was way too… club music-y and sexual. Before I even got a chance to look at the last candidate, Selphie waltzed in.

“Kairi! I’m back!” the plastic bags crinkled loudly as she set them down on the table. She handed me my food and started to dig into hers before barraging me with questions.

“So, have you looked at the resumes yet? What do you think so far?”

“I’ve only looked at two. I’m not particularly interested in Hayner and Seifer is a maybe. I haven’t had a chance to look at this ‘Sora’ guy yet though.” I turned my laptop to her.

“Wow the first two guys seem pretty accomplished! What’s wrong with the Hayner guy?”

“His style doesn’t really fit with my vision for this album. I’m also not a punk or rock singer.”

“Oh, I guess that’s true. Why is Seifer a maybe?”

“I feel like he has a good track record for making hit singles, but that’s the only reason I’m considering him.”

“You don’t need a producer to make hits! You have some of the best, no, thebest vocals I’ve ever heard. Don’t go with him just because you think he’s the technically correct choice. Why don’t we take a look at the last guy tog-e-herfmmf?”

“After I finish my lunch. And Selphie, I love you but please don’t talk with your mouth full of food.”

“Hey!” she pouted, and her face made me burst into a fit of giggles.

Selphie scarfed down her lunch in 2 minutes while I ate my pad thai at a reasonable pace. She may have looked tiny and ladylike on the outside, but the girl was a monster when it came to food. There was a reason she didn’t do dinner dates on the first date; I’ve never met anyone with a more bottomless stomach than her.

“Kairiiiii, I’m trying to be patient but you’re taking so long to eat! Can I just start looking at the Sora guy now?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault you eat at the speed of light. Are you sure you’re human?”

She smacked my shoulder lightly and pouted.

“Sorry, sorry. Yeah go ahead. Once Selphie had finished skimming the written portion, she played one of the sample songs. The song was soft and gentle, and a beautiful tenor voice sang over it.

Don’t get me wrong I love you

But does that mean I have to meet, your father

When we are older, you’ll understand what I meant when I said no

I don’t think, life is quite that simple

I was hooked. It was exactly the tone I was looking for with the added bonus of meaningful lyrics. Selphie noticed my eyes widen and sniggered.

“There’s more sample songs listed, I’m assuming you want to hear the rest?” “Yes please.” I immediately answered. She giggled once more at my eagerness.

A sanctuary, my sanctuary, yeah

Where fears and lies melt away

Music in time

I need more affection than you know

What’s left of me, what’s left of me

The first song had been a bit more upbeat but this one sounded heavenly and dreamy… which is exactly what I had wanted for the song I was working on this morning. I quickly scarfed down the rest of my food before beckoning Selphie to give the laptop back.

“Quite the eager beaver we have here huh?”

“Shut up. I just happen to like these samples okay?”

I wiped my hands off on a napkin before scrolling back to the top of the resume. He had only worked with lesser known artists, and only had two years in the industry under his belt. Experience or not, it was obvious the guy was gifted. I absolutely needed to meet this man.

#sokai #fanfiction #au #kairi #sora #kingdom hearts

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shinjekinootp · 6 years ago

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The Angry Coffee Shop

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Levi/Eren Yeager Tags: Platonic Hange Zoë & Levi, Based on a Tumblr Post, Drunk Sleepy cute Levi, Domestic Fluff, Mainly focused on Drunk Brootp Levihan, With some cute Ereri in the background Summary: Eren comes back late from work to an unusual scene. Levi passed out on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles, spilled chips, and a notebook reading: Flat white: Fuck you

*based on the Angry Coffe Shop meme from Tumblr*

You can read it here or on AO3

“Ugh, I’m so thirsty.”

Levi rolls his eyes “You’re literally in a coffee shop, just get yourself something to drink.”

“Not that kind of thirst dummy. I’m thirsty for booze. Customers have been complete assholes today. I need to get shitface. For my mental health.”

“That does sounds pretty good,” he says, giving a final sweep to the counter. “Your place or my place?” Hanji doesn’t get the chance to reply before Levi is speaking again. “Let’s go to mine. The shithole you dare to call an apartment is dirty enough when you expect me to come over.”

Forty-five minutes later, they are sitting on Levi’s couch, a glass of red wine in their hands, the coffee table crawling under various snacks.

“Sometimes I wonder how we make it through the day without murdering anyone,” Hanji begins. “How hard can it be to order a drink without being a pain in the ass? You wait in line for your turn, order something from the board, pay, and wait patiently for it to be ready.”

“Erwin doesn’t pay us nearly enough to deal with those shit head all days,” Levi agrees. He empties his glass and pours himself a new one. He makes the red liquid swirl and takes a sip of it. He savors the bitter taste, as Hanji digs into a bag of chips.

I swear to god, if I found any crumble on my floor-”

“Yea I know, you’ll make me lick it until it’s clean again,” they dismiss him, taking a handful of doritos.

“And clean it with bleach right after. Spit is gross.”

Hanji laughter fills the room. “Where’s pretty boy uh? I thought he’d be here.”

“I don’t know. Probably still at work” He looks at his phone, and sure enough there is a text from Eren informing him he’s staying overtime and not to wait for him.

“Let’s play a game!” Hanji suddenly screams.

Levi frowns “No strip poker this time. I don’t think I can take the sight of you wearing nothing but your glasses one more time. Plus I had to get rid of my rug after you dirty butt sat on it.”

“I will let you know my butt is very clean. Petra can vouch.”

A giggle escapes Levi’s lips. Under normal circumstances he would be concerned by that. But with the alcohol running through his veins, his clouded mind doesn't care.

“So the game is simple. We both tell a story about a bitchy customer we had, and the one who has encountered the biggest prick wins.”

Levi tilts his head to the side.“Isn’t that basically complaining, though? We’re already doing it all the time. That’s hardly a game.”

Hanji is thoughtful for a moment before they clap their hand victoriously “I know! Each time one of us wins a round; they have to take a shot. That should spice things up.”

“Alright” Levi says, slumping to the ground and reaching for the bottle, a smirk on his lips “Game on then.”

Hanji laughter echoes through the room as they struggle to form words. “This- This is priceless, how come you’ve never told me about it before?”

“Didn’t want to risk Erwin hearing about it,” he downs his shot in one swift motion, barely grimacing as the liquid burn his throat.“It’s not like I’m actually the manager.”

Hanji rolls on their back, as a new fit of laughter shakes their body. “I would give anything, to see the lady’s face when you’ve spun around.”

“It was quite the sight to behold,” he refills his glass, while Hanji straightens up their glasses threatening to fall of their nose.

“Once I had this lady coming in, she kept stressing out how important it was that her drink was dairy free -and I get it, lactose intolerance is a pain in the ass- she was watching my every move like a hawk. When I handed her her drink, she freaking asked me why I didn’t put whipped cream on top of it. I had to explain her that yes, whipped cream contains dairy, but she would not believe me. I ended up putting a shit ton on top of her damn frappuccino and I hope she got diarrhea from it.”

“What a bitch” Levi snorts.

“Alright your turn, what do you have in stock?”

He hums thoughtfully, distractingly playing with a the edge of a pillow.

“They were this one time, when a girl went batchit crazy on me for drawing a heart in her latte. She screamed at me that she had a boyfriend, and that she was so fed up with men hitting on her.”

“Did you? Drew a heart in her latte I mean.”

“No, I did draw something, but it was not a heart. Not from my perspective that is.”Levi smirks amusement glinting into his eyes.

Hanji seems confused for a split second before they exclaim.“Oh my god Levi! Did you draw an ass in that girl drink?”

“I most certainly did,” he replies with a toothy grin. “It was the day when Eren came back from his family trip. All I could think about was that glorious ass of his.”

“You’re the worst.”

Levi shrugs and slides a shot towards them before pouring one for himself. “That’s a draw,” he solemnly declares.

They empty their glasses and sigh contentedly almost in perfect synchronization.

“You know what really is the worst kind of customer ?” Hanji hiccups.

He raises a thin eyebrow at them.

“Those who are unable to remember the name of the drinks. If they got their orders wrong, it’s not my problem. Learn to fucking read you moron!”

“I couldn’t remember the name of the drink when I began,” Levi giggles.“Eren had to help me study the menu. He even made cards and all that shit.”

They shake their head “You’re a lucky idiot you know that?”

Levi nods. He does know how lucky he is to have a boyfriend like him.

“In my defense,” he begins“the name of the drinks makes zero sense. Why did Erwin have to go for the fancy hipster shit name? ‘large black’ that’s easy to remember. But Americano? Frappuccino? Freaking Macchiato? It gives zero clue about what the drink actually is.”

“That’s how they’re called,” Hanji looks at him skeptically “That’s pretty standard actually.”

“Well, the standard sucks.” Levi says, slamming his fist on the table.

“What would you call them then?” They ask, eyes glinting in amusement.

“I dunno,” Levi frowns.“Something meaningful.”

They tilt their head to the side.“Like what? It’s not like you could describe the recipe of the drink. That would be way too long.”

He reaches for the bag of chips, and munches slowly. Hanji observes him pulling his eyebrows together, creating small line between them. He’s so deep in thoughts he doesn’t notice them snatching a picture of what they consider to be an ‘Accidentally cute Levi.’

“Hangover,” he blurts out.

“We certainly will be tomorrow, but don’t worry we still have time.”

“No,” he throws the bag of chips out of his lap, spilling it on the ground.“The name of the drink, it should be Hungover.”

“Lemme guess, a strong black coffee?”

“Triple espresso of the less bitter coffee we have,” He grins.

They smile cheerfully.“What else do you have?”

“I’m Studying For My Finals. Double espresso with a dash of vanilla. Because you both need energy and comfort.”

“Why not make it a triple, though?”

Levi shakes his head.“Because when studying for their final, student drink coffee all day. With a double they can still get that energy shot multiples time a day without intoxicating themselves. Also, it’s refillable.”

“This is good!” Hanji shouts excitedly. They scramble up to their feet and run to their bag, pulling out a notebook. “Alright keeps going, we gotta keep track of this.”

“Babe?” Eren calls upon entering the apartment. Despite the late hour, he knows Levi isn’t asleep. He goes in the living room, expecting him to be sitting on the couch, tucked into a blanket, enjoying a his tea. But instead he’s met with what looks like a warzone. Two empty bottles of wine, one who has rolled up to the ground, another bottle of what looks like tequila, empty for the most part, chips, chips everywhere, on the table, on the carpet, on the couch, and finally Levi, sleeping peacefully on the ground, crumbs all over his hair.

“What the fuck,” Eren whispers to himself. He walks up to Levi and picks the notebook next to him. It reads:

Large Americano: Not A Morning Person

Tea: The Only Valid Drink

Flat White: Fuck You

Vanilla soy latte no foam extra shot: I’d Like To Speak To The Manager

Double espresso with vanilla sirup: Studying For My Final

Iced coffee: Hoe Never Gets Cold

Pumpkin spice latte: Spooky Season

Latte, extra shot: Stayed Up Too Late Looking At Memes

Peppermint latte: Basic Bitch

“Hey Eren!”

The cheery voice of Hanji interrupts his reading.

“Hey,” he tentatively greets them.“What’s going on ? And what is this?” He asks shaking the notebook in his hand.

“Just a thing for a work,” they say, wiggling their eyebrows mysteriously.

“So, you’re telling me, this was a work meeting?”

“Guess you could put it like that,” They chuckle.“I was just about to clean up. Would you take care of sleepy-head over here?” They point at Levi with their chin.

It’s Eren’s turn to laugh. “You cleaning, and Levi passing out. That’s a first.”

He bends down and gently dusts the crumbs off Levi’s hair, before carrying him to their bedroom.

“They don’t know what's awaiting them,” Levi mumbles, as he undresses him.

“Hum what was that? What’s awaiting who?”

“Karen, Margaret, Susan and all the other.”

“Alright babe,” he chuckles.“Go get them.”

He makes sure Levi is well tuck in, and not at risk at falling off bed. He makes a move to leave, but a hand on his forearm stops him.

Levi cracks a lid open “Stay.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to leave Hanji alone in the living room?”

“Hmph, what are they gonna do? It’s already a mess anyway,” he tucks on his arm, nearly yanking him off his feets.

“Alright, alright,” Eren surrenders. He quickly takes off his shoes and clothes, throwing them in a corner of the room. As soon as he lies down, Levi rolls to his sides, resting his head on his chest. He’s already drifting back to sleep, soothed by the hand gently stroking his hair.

“Good morning! What can I get you?”

“Flat white. Large. Quickly, I’m in a hurry.”

“Fuck you,” Hanji says, a shit eating grin on their face.

“Excuse you?” The woman says, outrage evident in her voice. “What did you just say to me?”

“Fuck You,” They repeat, their smile growing impossibly wide. “That’s the name of the drink you’ve order.”

A displease frown appears on the woman face. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”

“Sure thing, Coming right up!” They grab a cup. “May I have a name?” The woman stares at her, confusion written all over her face. “I bet it’s Sharon,” they say writing it down. “You look like a Sharon.”

Hanji turns around, and quickly prepares the drink. The woman said she was in a rush after all.

“Here you go! That’ll be $5 please.”

“What is this?”

“What you’ve order Ma’am. A Vanilla soy latte with no foam and extra shot.” They answer with a mischievous smile.

“I didn’t order this,” she nearly shouts. “Are you deaf? I said that I’d like to speak to the manager!”

“Yea… that’s the name of the drink Ma’am.” They point at the board above their head.

Her face reddens as she opens her mouth, but Hanji cuts her off before she has the chance to speak.

“You better go now, Sharon. You’re holding the line.”

The woman furiously slaps a $5 bill on the counter, and stalks away.

Levi blinks, mouth hanging agape.“That was amazing,” he fights the urge to claps.

“Thank you, thank you. But you nearly deserve all the credit. You’re the one that came up with this idea.”

“How did you get Erwin’s approval?” he asks incredulity in his voice.

“Eh, well, I didn’t,” they answer, rubbing the back of their neck. “I just came in early and re-write the boards.”

Levi shakes his head, chuckling. Of course Hanji would do that without their boss permission. “Guess I’ll have a new co-worker by the end of the week then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that short-stuff.” A devilish smile on their face Hanji takes out their phone. “See one of the ‘soccer moms’ I’ve served this morning wasn’t too happy with our new menu. So she took the whole story to twitter and even made a petition to close up the place.” They slide their phone on the counter.“And it blew up! But not in the way she expected. Everyone is loving the idea. The so-called ‘angry coffee shop’ is the new place to be! We’ve been packed with customers all day.”

“Speaking of which, some help would be much appreciated Hanji!” A panicked voice calls from behind them.

“Don’t worry Moblit. You got this!” They say waving their hand dismissively at him. They focus back on Levi and frown. “What’s wrong Levi? I thought you would be happy.”

He raises his head from his hand and whispers, eyes wide “We’re gonna have to deal with even more customers.”

#Ereri #Ereri fic #levihan #my writing #It's been sooooo long since I've post something I've written #well since I've finshed something I've written #it feels weird #in a good way

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