#Man is so down to listen to the tea being spilled it is the highlight of his day

[1candybrainrotdungeon]

Continuing the yassification of fallout 4 characters agenda, Hancock is going full pirate mode with his fit <3 You can see the previous one with X6-88 here

As usual, bonus headcannon is under the cut >:)

[serenity-lattes]

hiya :)))

its me again back with another request, BUT (shocking) - i have a fluff prompt for you - well, no i have a song but same thing.

"i guess im in love" by clinton kane for emily and male reader, of course.

<3333

Hiii, fren! Let me just say, your taste in music is *chef’s kiss* Thank you for sending this in.

Love,

Serenity

Guess I’m in Love

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Male Reader

Warnings: description of a near panic attack

Word Count: 1206

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. I always love when people write song fics, but I’ve never done one until now. LISTEN HERE

No pressure tag for my mutuals: @lcvingprentjss · @safespacespence · @reidsbookclub · @reidselle · @writer-in-theory · @writingquillsandpainpills

And why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes?

Sunday afternoon with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out of the diner was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl. If not for the sheer amount of people, then for the dark wood paneling on the wall, the sticky black leather bar stools with rusty chrome, and the cigarette smoke that always lingered into the non-smoking section certainly would. But not for Y/N. He was sat in a little corner table by himself, happy to pay a few extra dollars to avoid having to cook for himself.

Meanwhile, Emily was just trying to stay afloat. It was a miracle she hadn’t been fired yet, what with spilling drinks and mixing up table orders. She truly was horrible at waitressing, but she was determined to do this for herself. She made her way over to the table in the corner, a little notebook and pen in hand, ready to be successful. Or at least not a complete disaster.

“Good morning, my name is Emily, I’ll be your server. Can I get you anything to drink?” she introduced herself, trying to keep her composure after having just been yelled at by a crotchety old man over switching his Sprite with his wife’s water.

Y/N looked up from the menu, pleasantly surprised by the sight before him. The sun was gently kissing her skin, making her dark eyes shine, and he couldn’t take your eyes off her, even if he was as eloquent as Porky Pig when giving his drink order. She chuckled softly, writing it down.

“One hot tea coming right up.”

Oh, how he yearned to know her, which is how one spontaneous visit to the diner turned into a weekly occurrence. Always when Emily was working. And he always sat in her section. With her having multiple tables to tend to, their conversations were usually brief, nothing substantial. But the highlight of his week.

He didn’t have to look at the menu, as he always ordered the same thing. Emily didn’t even have to ask, she would bring over his usual tea, and utilized the time to just talk. Though today she had a topic in mind.

She set down the cup in front of him as always, tongue in cheek, “Hey, Y/N, maybe don’t order food today.”

He looked at her perplexed, eyebrows scrunched in the middle. After all, food was the whole reason he came here. Definitely not to have a chance to talk to the gorgeous waitress.

“Well,” she chuckled, getting flustered for once because his reaction alone was enough to make her fear rejection before quickly blurting out, “My shift ends in an hour. Maybe we could go get sushi? I know this nice restaurant about twenty minutes away.”

He pushed the menu towards her and smiled softly, “I would love to go on a date with you, Emily.”

Butterflies can't stop me fallin' for you

And darlin', this is more than anything I felt before

One date turned into two, two turned into five… and, well… five turned into much, much more.

Their second date ended up being a disaster, but neither would change a thing. It was perfectly imperfect and suited them well. Rain poured down, drenching them both, and all they could do was laugh. Emily grabbed his hand, and they ran toward anything that would shield them, soon finding solace under the awning of a Starbucks. They laughed at how ridiculous they looked, which lead to pulling her close, eyes peering into hers as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, which lead to her tugging the lapels of his jacket, closing any extra distance before pressing her lips to his, and all was perfect.

Their fifth date, Y/N held Emily in his arms, lost in her embrace, and the scent of her shampoo. She could make every terrible thought go away and help him catch his breath. If he was ever moved to tears, she appeared like a beacon of hope and the tears were gone, and a bit of tranquility was more than welcome. They swayed gently, dancing in the dark kitchen at midnight, only the moonlight trickling in through the tiny window, only surrounded by the sounds of the creaky floorboards under their feet, and the cars passing by outside.

They haven’t moved in together, but Emily may as well, with a drawer or two of his filled with her things. They’d fallen asleep on the sofa, her head on his chest while they talked about anything and everything. It wasn’t ideal and their necks were going to be sore, but clearly, they were comfortable enough in the moment. Emily woke up to the sun shining through the blinds, an arm draped around her middle. She beamed and turned over to face him. He looked younger when he was asleep. The stress of life, overthinking, and past heartbreak not burdening him. She reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair. He didn’t sleep as much as he should, so she was utilizing extra care to not wake him.

“I love you,” she whispered, “You’re worth every hardship I faced before meeting you.”

You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find

I'm so in love, let's run away because us is enough

“Y/N? What are you thinking about?” she asked, sliding onto his lap. He hadn’t looked away from the newspaper in over twenty minutes, something was up. But he set the paper aside and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Just that you’re graduating soon,” he hummed, one of his hands resting on the curve of her waist, “our future.”

Her stomach dropped, her heart rate picking up. She looked away, at the threadbare arm of the chair they were in, doing her best to not lose it. Obviously, she could only assume the worst, as that’s all she’d ever known before meeting him in the diner. Was he going to break up with her because this was just a college fling?

“I can hear you spiraling,” he murmured, using his knuckle to turn her face back toward him, “what?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, meeting his eyes, “Do we have a future?”

“Emily, of course we have a future. I was thinking about where we want to live,” He immediately pulled her into an embrace, peppering kisses over the side of her face. How could he possibly have let her fear the worst? He felt awful for even giving her a sliver a doubt, “We’ve done nothing but spend our early twenties stressed out. I was thinking how nice it would be to live somewhere quiet while you apply for positions at the FBI.”

She hugged him close and let out a sigh of relief, feeling a little silly from going to zero to a hundred so quickly.

“That sounds so nice.” she asked, sitting up to press her forehead to his, “I’m not picky, really. Just as long as you’re there with me, it will be enough.”

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

But I know now I found the one I love

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[ickle-ronniekins]

tangled up

request: from nonnie! “love those sharing a bed tropes... not saying you should do it but you should definitely do it”

pairing: fred x fem!gryffindor!reader

word count: 2.3k

A/N: ummmmmm love this request, i'm in suuuucch a fred mood lately

warning(s): brief mention of war, ~implied sexual content~ i suppose

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @dreamer821 @wtfweasleyy @62442-am @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro | message me to be added loves!

The cool October air had a bit of a bite to it -- it seemed as though Bill and Fleur’s wedding was ages ago. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders to reduce the chill in your bones.

Suddenly two redheaded figures appeared with a pop! onto the field outside of your home. By what you could see, they’d apparated just before the line of protective enchantments -- a type of advanced magic only a very intelligent wizard could do.

“Bloody hell -- you’re a life saver, you know that?” George exclaimed as he finally reached you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “I couldn’t be there for one more moment.”

Fred rolled his eyes and explained, “He means at Auntie Muriel’s. Being a bit overdramatic, are we, George?”

The elder twin shot his younger brother a look of amusement as George dropped his bag onto the floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Overdramatic? Tell me, Fred, would you like to go back?”

Fred then draped an arm across your shoulder and peered at his brother. “And reject our best mate’s offer to spend time at her lovely home? That would be so rude.” George swore he saw his twin shudder a bit, no doubt at the thought of returning to their Auntie Muriel’s to endure more yelling and criticism. George shot him a very sardonic look, and laughed lightly.

“Glad you two decided to come -- it’ll be nice having someone else in the house. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in months,” you waved your wand to pull three teacups from the kitchen cupboard and started the kettle. You felt a sense of ease at having your two closest friends here. “Should be alright out here, at least for a while.”

Fred glimpsed around your tiny little house. It was small, but exceptionally tidy with a very cozy feeling to it. It looked much different than the Burrow, but still emanated that feeling of home. “Lovely place you’ve got.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” you replied, handing him a steaming cup of tea. He gingerly took it out of your hands. “Just one problem.”

The twins chorused together, “What?”

“I’ve only got one extra bed.”

If the room hadn’t gone so eerily still at your comment, you never would have noticed the small jab to the hip George gave his twin. Fred grunted a bit and stifled a cough. “Oh, no worry -- George already said he’ll take the floor.”

Fred earned himself an eye roll and another jab.

You waved them both off and blew on your tea. “Don’t be silly! I’ll take the floor. You two’ve just got to battle it out for who gets the bigger bed.”

As if on queue, George immediately hoisted his bag back over his shoulder. He began walking away and pointed toward your very tiny spare bedroom off of the kitchen. “This one here, yeah? Thanks again, Y/N, really appreciate you letting us escape the wrath of our aunt -- I’m absolutely knackered, hope you two don’t mind if I turn in!” and with a quick wave to you and Fred, George closed the door and you both almost immediately heard very loud snoring. You and Fred exchanged a laugh.

You made sure everything was in order for Fred before leading him to your room. But you noticed he hadn’t brought his stuff with him -- you saw his belongings near your front door. With a wave of your wand, you brought it forward.

“I’m really okay to sleep on the couch,” he told you, pointing back toward the front.

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the couch,” you replied, shaking your head. “Besides -- you’re not staying out there. I might be a bit dramatic, but the couch is too close to the windows and the front door, and though I’ve been safe here for a while..” you voice trailed off a bit, and you swallowed down the nerves bubbling up inside of you. “Just -- we never know where the Death Eaters are. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You patted Fred’s shoulder, ready to head back out to your front room, when he took your wrist in his hand and whirled you back around to face him. “If I’m not allowed to take the couch, neither are you.”

You crossed your arms and swallowed. “Fine,” you replied with a grin. “Have got tons of extra pillows and a massive blanket here somewhere -- let me go and fetch it. Go on then, make yourself comfortable.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” Fred chuckled, and you noticed traces of the young boy you grew to love. He caressed small circles on the back of your hand. “Would you just sleep in your own bed?”

“But --” your breath caught in your throat. You glanced at your own bed, easily big enough for two, maybe even three, and went against your better judgement before you could overthink it. “Just share with me, then. Nobody takes the floor.”

A hint of nervousness flashed across his features before twisting into a cheeky grin. You continued on when he stayed silent, “What’s the matter, Freddie? You’ve been my best mate for the better half of the last twenty years. I mean, I’ve seen you in your bunny slippers, for Merlin’s sake --” Fred flinched uncomfortably at the memory of you catching him, late one evening in Gryffindor tower, in bunny slippers his mum had knitted for him as a child. You had never let him forget it.

His grin deepened alongside the crimson red colour of his cheeks. “Listen, woman, they are soft and keep me nice and toasty, alright?”

“Whatever you say,” you replied before sliding yourself underneath your warm blanket. You patted the other side of the bed in an accidental sensual way and realized how that must’ve come across. You quickly cleared your throat and turned off the light before you could see his reaction. “Erm -- there are extra pillows on the couch if you need.”

You felt his body slide in next to yours, and you could still make out some of his facial features from the faint light of the lightning strikes outside. He was definitely still grinning. “I’m fine, really.”

You figured out quite quickly that neither of you were able to sleep, especially because it was only eleven p.m. and because of the wild wind and rain that were howling outside of your window. The words were spilling out of you before you could help it. “Fred?”

He turned on his side to face you. “Yeah?”

You were laying on your back, looking up at your ceiling in the darkness. “Are you afraid?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you turned your head to face him too. Each time the lightning struck it was bright and vibrant, and highlighted his features in a more intimate way than ever before. He threaded his brows together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.”

It was weirdly comforting hearing him say that he was afraid. The man who didn’t have a serious bone in his body was actually scared. It was strange and unnerving and brought a sense of solace to you all at once.

You sucked in a breath, worried that your normal evening anxiety would show solely through the look in your eyes. You turned away to glance toward the ceiling again when you felt Fred brush his fingers gently against yours under the covers. Your breath hitched at the contact.

“I think it’ll be okay though.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I suppose I can’t..” it was so weird, hearing him speak like this. He shifted again. “I just think.. we’re more prepared than before. Think there’s more of us this time. Besides, we’ve done our studying, and we’re all brilliant wizards.”

A smile tugged at the edges of your mouth. “You are kind of brilliant.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and it was almost a whisper. You noticed the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Care to return the compliment first?”

“Hang on,” he replied, placing his hands behind his head in a bit of a relaxed state. “I need to bask in this for a moment.”

“Oh shove off, you git!”

You playfully swatted him before he retaliated. Soon enough you were both sitting upright, thwacking one another with pillows and laughing into the darkness of the night. Fred fell to the floor with a dull thump, and you stifled lots of giggles and shushed him as he slid back into bed next to you. “You’re going to wake up George!”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you were swatting at one another. It could’ve been hours, or perhaps days. But then the storm grew more fierce, and you found yourself scooting closer to him in bed. Fred always had a way of making you forget about everything going on around you. It was always surprising to you how you’d be able to drown out the rest of the world, as long as you listened to him talk, or as long as you watched him work on his inventions with gentle hands. Even in lessons, back in school, when he’d teasingly wink at you from across the classroom, you were pretty much rendered completely useless for the rest of the day. When it was just you and him, the rest of the world might as well not even exist.

He must’ve noticed how you zoned out, because he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

You turned on your side to face him fully this time. “Just reminiscing.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Remember when we bumped into one another in the corridors during our fourth year -- I was sneaking sweets up from the kitchens, and you were attempting to sneak into one of the classrooms to finish working on inventions?” You smiled at the memory. “And then Filch was roaming around, and we nearly got caught?”

Fred laughed. You were happy that he remembered. “Never sprinted back to the common room so quickly in my life. That ruddy cat of his was clawing at my ankles.”

“Between the fact that I’d hardly gotten any sleep that night and the adrenaline rush, I was bloody exhausted.”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, you fell asleep in the armchair next to the fire almost immediately when we returned and began to snore rather loudly, if my memory serves me correct.”

You grinned, not skipping a beat. “Yeah, my snoring is almost as embarrassing as those slippers of yours.”

You expected him to groan and throw another pillow in your direction, but instead he just deepened his smile and reached out and placed his hand next to yours on the edge of his pillow, your fingers almost touching. “I dunno -- I thought it was cute.”

You really hoped the steady drumbeat sound of your heart was drowned out by the sounds of the thunder outside. You weren’t so sure though. “Yeah?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I remember having to wake you up because it was nearly four a.m. -- fire had died out and you looked so uncomfortable in that armchair -- I just wanted to carry you upstairs. Except..” Yeah, jinxes by the professors at each respective staircase. Boys weren’t allowed in the girls dorms, and vice versa. You knew exactly what he was getting at.

You felt a swift surge of confidence overtake you, so you gently moved your fingers a few centimeters before you slowly intertwined them with his. He didn’t flinch. Your voice was softer than you expected. “What else do you remember about that night?”

It was an opening -- you didn’t want to be so blatantly obvious about it, but Fred could always read you like a book. You hoped he still could, after all these years. Luckily for the both of you, nothing had changed. He took the opening. “I remember wanting to kiss you.”

You bit your lip, hoping to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up inside of you like fizzy champagne.

Fred laughed cheekily. “Never got a chance, though.”

Before you could think more on it, you nudged his leg with your toes and scooted closer to him. You could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, you were so close. “Then kiss me now.”

His mouth parted slightly in surprise, but nevertheless he inched forward and caught your lips with his. They were soft -- softer than you ever could have imagined, and so was the kiss itself. He tasted faintly of mint, and and you found yourself breathing in deeper when he trailed one solitary finger across your jawline and down your neck. The feel of him against you warmed up your entire body in a way that the common room fire never could.

He sighed against your lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Mmm we should’ve been doing this the entire time,”

You laughed softly and brought your fingers to your lips, hoping to still feel that electricity. “Yeah, we probably should have.”

All thoughts of the war seemed to subside as he leant in to kiss you again. Somehow, being with him, your limbs entangled together -- it was enough to make you forget about the war on the horizon, everything that was about to happen. As far as you were concerned, as long as Fred was beside you, tangled in the covers of your bed, everything would be alright.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice was rough and sensual and soft all at the same time as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Thanks for inviting me to sleep in your bed.”

You grinned and raked your bottom lip through your teeth. “Yeah, well, like you said -- we should’ve been doing this the entire time. Figured I’d get a jump start on what we’ve missed.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around your hips. Goosebumps sprouted on your skin as he lazily trailed his fingers up and down your spine and told you, “Knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

[stray-kids-react]

Hot Topic

Masterlist

Warnings - Swearing

Genre - Fluff

Pairing - Changbin x Interview Reader

Your boss was a bitch and everyone knew this for a fact, being head of a huge magazine company really went to her head. And being her assistant and part time celebrity interviewer put a lot of stress on your shoulders, but it payed well and you still loved your job nonetheless.

But having to run to a coffee shop at 5 in the morning in uncomfortable through the pourning rain, was definitely not a highlight of your job experience. Your teeth clattering and goosebumps rising on your skin, the rain was pouring down hard it was hard to focus on anything in front of you.

"H-hi can I get two small black coffees, one meduim vanilla mocha, and one large hot chocolate." You ordered, wiping off the mascara that ran down your cheeks.

The cashier nodded cautiously, concerned by the way you looked. The elderly couple sitting not to far away from you was sipping their cups of tea as they boared into your souls it seemed. You knew this day was coming, having such a great couple of days and getting a raise... It was bound to have a small dip so your life isn't like Barbie dolls.

"Name?" The chashier questioned, chewing her gum loud and obnoxiously.

"Y/n." You sighed, trying to maintain some level of composure with that annoying chewing.

You tossled back and forth on the pads of your feet, zoning out due to your tired state. You nearly tripped over your own feet when the cashier called your name, holding a tray filled with burning cups of caffeine. You turned around quickly at the vibration of your phone, alerting you that you boss was becoming impatient.

A dark haired man crashed into you, gasping out of concern immediately. All of the drinks spilled onto new and already drenched jacket, and the rest flew onto your face. You left your eyes closed as you held in the scream trying to crawl out of your lips.

"Shit, I am so sorry." He apologised, helping you to your feet.

"It's okay." You whimpered, voice trembling from the overwhelming emotions forming in your mind.

Before he could grab napkins to help you out, you were already walking back to your home. Tears strolling down your cheeks from a mix of frustration and exhaustion, you knew you needed the day even if it meant taking extra hours the next day.

You poured the bubbles into your bathtub as you called your boss to tell them you wouldn't be showing up today, they sounded passive aggressive as they agreed but demanded you to do extra hours tomorrow. Which included interviewing the kpop boy group Stray Kids.

That's when a lightbulb clicked in your head, the man you rushed into was Seo Changbin. You were a fan of Stray Kids and didn't even recognize your bias because you were so stressed out from work.

"Oh my God..." You sighed, sinking into the water with disappointment in yourself.

-The next day-

"Y/n! Can you help this group to to the proper floor? I'm really busy." Your favored and spoiled Co worker suggested, clearly just wanting to get some time off. You agreed nonetheless.

Eight God like men stood next to each other with innocent confusion in their eyes, they didn't complain like other celebrities or acted snappy either. This made it more frustrating when your co worker made her irresponsible actions your problem to solve, they didn't deserve that type of treatment.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n I will be your interviewer tonight and I just wanted you all to know how hug of a pleasure it is to have you hear. I'm a huge fan." You revealed, adjusting your posture with a pure smile.

They followed you towards the correct location, couches and chairs set up for the interview. The staff were all busy fiddling around with the equipment to make sure everything was fully prepared, which left you to try and entertain the special guests all by yourself. But before you could speak one more word, your boss rushed towards you.

"I am so thankful for you y/n, I just got a call from Elle magazine asking me if I would be able to interview Rihanna in a few hours, so if you don't mind locking up the building for me. Thanks sweetie." She demanded, tossing you the keys as she waltzed away from you.

It was after supper and you've been working non stop since 6am, and now you had to stay in this hell hole for even longer. A staff member ushered most of Stray Kids to different spots of the set.

"Are you the person I ran into yesterday?" Changbin questioned, close behind you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I ran out so quickly. This job just is a lot of stress and work." You apologized, confusion furrowed hsi brows as to why you were apologizing.

"Don't worry about it, I actually feel bad for how hard these guys seem to be on you. Do you need any help setting up or anything?" He suggested, a softness in his eyes that made your heart do back flips.

You shook your head, knowing your face was probably stuck in a slightly shocked expression. You were proven this when a small smirk was noticeable on his features as he walked past you to get ready for the interview.

The interview went smoothly, not a awkward moment between you and the band. This is due to being a fan and doing your research before agreeing on the interview, unlike other interviewers who have completely made it unwatchable for some viewers.

You nearly stumbled over your words many times but kept composure each time, the stumbling only ever attempted to happen when you looked at Changbin.

Sending you small winks whenever the camera zoomed in to an other member, and watching you soft eyes everytime you spoke. You could feel the heat on the top of your ears from his simple but effective actions.

Felix noticed Changbin's actions towards you and smirked to himself, he slightly warned him whenever the camera would be focusing on him or if he would be in view. Everyone knew how entertainments were like when it came to dating, and that's why it was exciting when an idol didn't seem to care and wanted to live their lives.

"So I have one last question for you guys." You reassured, reading the last card in your hand.

"What is something you want to tell your fans?" You asked, smiling since you considered yourself a fan.

Each member expressed their love and appreciation for their fans, some sending small hearts from their finger tips before the camera panned away from them. You appreciated how humble and easy going they were, especially after dealing with celebrities like the Paul brothers. The worst interview you've ever had would have to be with Justin Timberlake nonetheless.

You stopped listening to Timberlake after the interview and wanted to try a new genre, and that is how you got into kpop. The first band you became a fan of was Exo, but your ultimate group became the loveable dorks called Stray Kids. You saw yourself as just some regular interviewer that wasn't special in any way, and you never thought any celebrity would give any attention.

The most attention you've got in your career was a handshake you made with Itzy's Lia while interviewing them. That's why it surprised you how Changbin seemed interested in you, since there were so many other people who would give everything they had to be with him.

"Did it work?" Changbin questioned, a genuine smile across his features as you looked in his direction.

"Did what work?" You asked, giggling softly at his puppy like expression.

"Your day seemed tough so I wanted to make you laugh, that's why I was winking. I wanted to break the ice." Changbin explained, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

His reasoning made your heart flutter much more than if he would've just done it to flirt, it seemed genuine and thoughtful rather than desperate and fuck boy like.

"That's actually really sweet. Thank you." You commented, trying not to show him how much it effected you.

He nodded as a welcome, secretly adoring the that crossed your features.

"I better get going. I have a lot of cleaning up to do." You sighed, beginning to step away from the boy of your dreams.

Changbin glanced towards his band before running after you, a prominent shade of red dipped on the tips of his ears and cheeks.

"If I promise not to spill it over you, do you think I could make you a coffee and help you?" He asked, voice meeker and less confident than it was a few minutes ago.

You agreed to his proposal, trying not to squeal. Your crush wanted to spend time with you, and this was the only time you ever wanted to thank your boss.

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

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

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

.

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

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

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

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

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

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

But she couldn’t just say that.

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

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

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

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

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

But they loved him anyways!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

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

                                                           -🌸-

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

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

Ah, there it was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

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

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

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

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

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

                                                          -🌸-

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

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

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

“…shit.“

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

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

“Nino?“

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

As she said, it was an easy fight.

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

                                                   Time Skip!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, why are you up?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                           Another Time Skip!

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

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

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

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

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

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

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

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

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

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

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

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

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

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

                                                         -🌸-

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

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

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

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

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

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

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

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

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

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

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

They climbed in and drove off.

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

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

“Dude.“

[albdodaze]

blooming. y.itadori

‘ew, ew, ew!’ (chapter one)

A/N: this is my first ever time posting on tumblr so this is weird but yeah pop off i guess. have in mind that english isn’t my first language!!

warnings: slight cursing

context: IN WHICH kami gojo, younger sister of certain powerful jujutsu sorcerer, meets an idiot who makes cold barrier around her heart melt.

The warm wind in Sendai blew the tall girl's white hair gently away. In her hand was the bubble tea she had recently bought and sipped every now and then, trying to cool down on this warm day, still unable to get used to such a sudden change in weather. Her other hand clenched tightly on the handles of the paper bags with clothes inside. The girl looked like she had been pulled straight out of the movies. Tall and slim, her eyes were covered by dark Channel glasses and pink gloss glistened on her lips. Her perfect skin glowed from the lanterns, and the highlighter on her cheeks only made it better. Her almost white skin was brought to life by the blush that settled on her nose and cheeks.

The girl walked proudly through the streets of Sendai, ignoring all the stares that were cast in her direction. Every now and then she would stop by a blooming tree, lit by the lanterns they had not long ago switched on, admiring how their pink blooms moved gently in the wind, dancing to the rhythm of the swish. As she stood beneath the cherry blossom tree, her phone beeped, signalling that someone was calling her. The white haired girl quickly pulled her phone out of her purse with the hand in which she held her bubble tea. As soon as the device was next to her ear, the girl rested her head against her shoulder, supporting her phone that way, and started walking again.

"Hello?" She asked, even though she knew who was calling and what for.

"Hurry up, we have to go to Megumi," she heard the voice of her older brother, who was most likely already waiting at the place where they were supposed to meet.

"What, why?" The girl furrowed her eyebrows but quickened her step, nervous that something had happened to her friend.

"Higher-ups got involved into this whole cursed object missing situation," he muttered, not very happy with the situation that was now happening.

"Oh, my God," the white-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Can I stay alone?"

"Absolutely not! Are you crazy, Kami! You don't stay alone at evening in a town full of complete creeps, I'm not going to be picking up your body later, cut in piece-"

"Mhm, I get it! I'm coming, hang up," she rolled her eyes once again and moved the phone away from her ear, tucking it into the small bag that hung from her shoulder.

Kami cursed quietly under her breath, unhappy with the situation. She didn't understand why her brother wouldn't let her stay alone, after all, she would have done just fine on her own. It wasn't like she was 11 years old and she wasn't a helpless little girl. And even if she was, she would still be able to handle herself just fine. After all, she was a jujutsu sorcerer! She fought curses on a daily basis, why wouldn't she be able to handle some pervert.

Kami arrived at the cafe in five minutes, seeing her brother from afar, who was hard to miss as he dominated everyone else with his height. When the man saw his little sister in the crowd, he walked up to her with three big steps, took her hand and started pulling her in the opposite direction.

"Gojo, bloody hell, I may be tall, but you still outweigh me by 20 centimetres and have bloody long legs. Your one step is my two, slow down a bit or I'll fall!" She complained to her brother, trying to hold her bubble tea in place so that nothing would spill out of it. "I totally get that you're full of yourself and all, but could you listen to me for once and slow down!" She groaned. "If you spill my bubble tea, I will personally kick your ass and make you buy it for me whole month!”

“Will you shut up already?”

"No!"

••••••••••

Kami walked slowly behind her brother, sipping her bubble tea, when she saw two figures in the distance. One of them was definitely Megumi, and the girl smiled at the sight of her friend. The other one was a pink haired boy, who was shirtless at which Kami raised an eyebrow.

'High school students really are built differently these days' she thought when she saw the abs drawn on the boy's chest.

The two of them seemed to have completely don't notice siblings, who stood behind Megumi and watched the scene.

"What's the situation?" Gojo finally spoke up, and Megumi turned towards him, puzzled.

"Gojo-sensei! Kami! Why are you here?" He asked the siblings, and Gojo raised his hand and smiled gently.

"Hey. We weren't planning on coming, but—man, you're roughed up. I should show the second-years," Gojo said, pulling out his phone, with which he started taking pictures of a battered Megumi, blinding him with flesh.

Kami pursed her lips and looked at the other boy, who looked very confused, and she snickered softly under her breath, getting his attention. As soon as she caught him staring at her, she winked at him and smirked, making the boy's cheeks go a gentle red.

"The higher-ups wouldn't shut up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing," Gojo continued. "So we stopped by while doing some sightseeing." He said, doing something on his phone. "So, did you find it?"

"Um..." the pink haired boy spoke up, raising his hand. " Sorry, but I ate it."

"For real?"

"For real," replied Megumi and the boy together.

"Ew? Absolutely disgusting. Horrendous! What the fuck were you thinking while doing it! Ew, ew, ew!" Kami said, sticking her tongue out and pretending to have a gag reflex.

Gojo muttered something under his breath and walked over to the boy, looking at him carefully. Then he laughed softly.

"Damn, it really did combine with you. That's hilarious. Anything off with your body?"

"Not particularly."

"Can you swap out with Sukuna?"

'There's no way he can do it.'

"Sukuna?"

"The curse you ate," Kami spoke up, pulling away from her bubble tea.

"Oh... Yeah, I think I can do that."

"Then give us ten seconds," Gojo said and began to stretch gently. "Once ten seconds are up, come back to us."

"But..."

"Don't worry, I'm the strongest."

"Uh, I think he meant that he doesn't want to be beaten up but whatever," Kami muttered under her breath.

"Megumi, hold on to this. Kami, don't you dare touch it," he pointed at the girl, who raised her hands in defence and moved next to Megumi.

"What's this?" Asked Megumi.

"Kikufuku from Kikusuian. It's Sendai's specialty, and it's super good. I recommend the zunda and cream flavour. It's not a souvenir. I'm going to eat it on the bullet train home."

"Behind you!" Shouted Megumi as Gojo continued to talk about what he had bought, followed by Sukuna appearing in the body of the boy who had eaten his finger.

Suddenly, Sukuna's face appeared in front of Megumi and Kami's faces, and Gojo was sitting on top of him.

Kami pursed her lips and pulled out a bag of Kikufuku from Megumi, who didn't even notice it, being too scared of Sukuna. Kami pulled out one treat and started munching on it, watching the situation that was happening in front of her.

'This is indeed interesting.'

[jadethest0ne]

In need of Refueling, Chapter 12 - “He was supposed to be”

Summary:  “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the  White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red  Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 3241

Ratings/Warnings:  Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: Red Son is brooding, Mei finds out that Red Son is Sandy’s house guest, and Sandy is trying his best to deal with two rowdy teens.

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo  for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep  some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!  

Read on AO3

———-

All in all, Red Son had received a lot of injuries from his conflict with his father.  Broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a broken arm, burns, hypothermia (including a lingering cold sensation all over his body that refused to go away), a sprained ankle...

And no powers.

That last one gave him pause. Injuries could be healed with time, and as a demon, he was a fast healer. But he did not know what happened to his powers. Were they really all absorbed by his father’s armor? Were they then extinguished by whatever that Noodle Boy did? He didn’t even know that it could be extinguished. It had to have been though, because based on what little he could get out of Sandy, the Monkey King had survived the conflict. Red Son isn’t sure how he feels about that. Sure, he had attacked him and intended to have him defeated by his father. But that’s not how things turned out. That’s not what his father wanted. And despite him giving the Samadhi Fire to his father, which is what he thought he wanted, that turned out to be disastrous as well. Were his parents even alive? And if they were, what would they want with someone who had nearly gotten them killed? What would they want with a son who didn’t even have any powers? In this state he was useless. Relying on the enemy, no less. How shameful.

Red Son had tried a few times to activate his powers. Each time he was met with not even a puff of smoke. If his parents thought he was a disappointment before, what would they think of him now?

At the very least he was making progress physically, and could hobble around the houseboat a little bit on his own. The Blue One said he could leave when he was better. But where could he go? He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to just be able to do something about it. But he could no longer simply throw fire at his problems. And no matter what anger and vitriol he sent Sandy’s way, the blue giant simply refused to be upset at him. Why didn’t he just kick him out? He certainly deserved it! His own parents likely wouldn’t want him around, why would an enemy?

So when he wasn’t yelling at Sandy, or his numerous cats, he just withdrew into himself. Fuming with no fire. Brooding over his current situation. What was the point anyway? A small part of him wanted to know if his parents were okay. As much as he was sure they would hate him, they were his parents, after all. But the thought of trying to find them terrified him in a way. On one hand, if they were alive, he was useless to them like this. If they weren’t… well, he didn’t want to think about how that would mean that it was his fault if they were dea--

Red Son angrily throws the closest thing near him across the room, which happened to be a mug of tea that he was holding. It flies across the room just missing a few cats who leap out of the way with an indignant hiss. The cup breaks apart and spills its contents all over the floor. He takes some seething breaths, before a voice speaks up next to him.

“Well that’s a much stronger throw than before. At least you’re healing!” Red Son had forgotten that the Blue One was there. He had given him the tea in the first place after all. Red Son had just gotten lost in his musings and forgot about the ever-present, overly pleasant companion. The big man goes over and gets a broom. “However, maybe we could find other, more constructive, ways for you to release your anger?”

“Ugh! Don’t try to give me life lessons! What are you, some sort of life advice guru?”

The Blue One laughs heartily, while picking out some of the larger shards. “No, I’ve just learned how to control my anger via anger management therapy. And I’m always open to listening if you want a friendly ear,” he says brightly.

Red Son can’t imagine this guy ever being angry, and the idea of talking about his feelings makes his stomach bubble in disgust. “What? So I can give away all my family’s secrets? Why would you care anyway?”

The Blue One shrugs. “I just do!” He pauses and thinks. “And also, maybe I could ask you to maybe not throw my cups and scare my cats…?” He ends the last part in a hopeful lilt.

“No promises,” Red Son grumbles.

“What do you normally do to de-stress?”

“Destroy my enemies.” Red Son looks pointedly at Sandy.

“Ah… um… would throwing fire around (preferably in a contained area) help?” Sandy asks hesitantly.

Red Son scowls. “No.”

“Would you like to try contacting your parents…?”

An uncomfortable flutter pangs in his heart. “No.”

“What about, er, a hobby or…?

Red Son is getting fed up. “WOULD YOU JUST STOP!” he shouts. “We are not friends! We are enemies! You are the good guys! I’m the bad guy! The villain. Stop trying to be all buddy-buddy with me! If you’re trying to change me or get me to open up, it’s not going to work!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure out what would make you feel better… Maybe healing up at your place would make you feel safer…?” Sandy looks truly apologetic, but Red Son is already too worked up to care. Furthermore, bringing up the possibility of going to see his parents causes that fluttering feeling to worsen.

“No! I can’t go back! I--”

Sandy raises his eyebrows. And Red Son shuts his mouth suddenly realizing what he almost revealed. The Blue One nearly had done it! How dare he. He hates him for that. For his stupid honest niceness. He hates that he is here. That he let down his father, again. That he has to rely on a big-hearted idiot of an enemy. He needs to leave. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. But he needs to leave.

He clumsily slips out of bed and does an awkward combination of stomping and limping past the Blue One and towards the door, ignoring the giant’s protests.

He swings open the door and he sucks in a surprised yelp as standing on the other side of it is a girl with green highlights in her hair, and pigtails sticking up from behind, with her fist to the door poised to knock on it. It’s the Dragon Girl. The two stare at each other. They exchange blinks of confusion.

The Dragon Girl is the first to react. Her surprised features shift into a look of pure rage. “YOU!” she shouts.

She flings herself at Red Son, elbowing him in the middle and throwing him across the room. Pain explodes from his various injuries, especially from his ribs and chest area. He crumples to the ground and barely has time to react as she is pulling a sword on him. He rolls out of the way, under a table and pulls himself up using an adjacent book case. He slips a little bit, and is forced to put weight on his injured ankle, which burns horribly, but he needs to get away from this crazy and enraged attacker.

He leans on the far end of the bookcase and holds up a hand. “W-wait!” he wheezes out before he devolves into coughs and choking gasps. He stumbles as he backpedals away from another swing and falls again to the floor. He grabs desperately at anything in his surroundings that can help pull him up, but the pain drags him back down again.

The tip of the sword is pointed at his center and he flinches back. He can’t do much but cough some more. When no attack comes, he chances a look up at his attacker. She’s looking at him with a paranoid gaze, which flickers up and down in confusion, but she does not lower her weapon.

“What are you doing here, Red Son?!” she yells.

Red Son does his best to regain his breath. When he does he shouts back, though not as loud or as strong as he wants it to be. “I was brought here, Dragon Girl! By your blue friend, no less! So- so back off or I’ll burn you to a crisp!”

The threat is empty. He knows it is. And even if she doesn’t, she knows she has the upper hand. He can’t hide his injuries or look powerful, half curled up on the floor and locked down by her sword. But he won’t appear weak. Not to her.

“Mei!” calls the Blue One, as he stands up from the floor, stepping carefully over the glass on the floor and rushing into the adjacent area to move between the girl and the demon.

“Sandy! Are you okay? What is Red Son doing here? Is he hurting you? Is he--”

“He’s injured!” Sandy says with some amount of exasperation quickly shuffling over and kneeling down by Red Son’s side. He puts a hand on the demon’s back and offers another for him to take to support him. Red Son stays silent and looks down, as Sandy helps him up.

“What?!” Pure incredulity drips from the Dragon Girl’s voice. “Are- are you helping him?!”

When he’s able to set Red Son upright, and leans him against a nearby cabinet, he looks to the girl and rubs the back of his head absently. “Er, yes, I am.”

She continues to give him a questioning look.

“He was hurt!” Sandy says simply. “I had to, Mei.”

The girl looks between the two of them, before sighing and lowering her sword. “I was wondering why we hadn’t heard from you much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I was hoping to tell you first instead of you finding out this way. Are you… mad?” The big man looks small, like a child revealing that they had snuck a cookie out of a cookie jar.

“It’s not you I’m upset at, it’s him. I don’t trust him. You could get into trouble. What if the Demon Bull family comes and attacks you? What if he burns down the houseboat?!” Red Son gets dizzy at the range of emotions that cross the girl’s features and body language as she talks, from a distrusting glance to panicky waving arms to exaggerated sweeps of her entire body. He remembers why he finds this group so annoying. And even moreso, he is annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

“Excuse me, I am standing right here!” he says with as much afront as he can muster.

“That’s the problem, Red Boy!”

“It’s Red Son to you, Dragon Girl!”

“Oh and now who is getting the names wrong?”

“I don’t stoop to uttering the names of peasants!”

“Shut up! You shouldn’t even be here! Do you know how much pain you caused! Sandy is here helping you, and you don’t deserve any of it!”

“Now now--” Sandy tries interjecting, but is caught in the middle of a now shouting match.

“That’s because you’re all so styoooopidly sappy! I’m GLAD I attacked you! You weaklings are too noble for your own good!” A smile spreads on his face seeing he’s getting under the girl's skin. It made him feel stronger. Shouting let out his pent up frustration from earlier. And banter with the Noodle Boy’s friends made things feel normal for once.

Mei shouts back at Red Son, contempt and hatred dripping from her words. "You hurt my friend! You nearly destroyed the Monkey King!!! You and your dumb dad! I bet DBK is proud of you!"

Red Son’s smile drops immediately and something in him snaps at the mention of his father, and before he can stop himself, the words come out. "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

There is a beat of silence and Red Son had a moment to realize what he said. He hadn't meant to bring up his father in such a way. How weak is he that he keeps revealing his inner thoughts to his enemies? His heart hammers against his ribs in shame and embarrassment, and he’s about to babble out some excuse, when the Dragon Girl speaks instead.

"He was supposed to be what? Destroyed?"

 What?

"Well, you know what? You failed to destroy the Monkey King. And it was the Monkey Kid who beat both of you!"

A spark of relief lights in Red Son's chest. The girl thinks he was talking about the Monkey King. Not his father. She had misunderstood his shout. He pushes down his shock and embarrassment, and forces a well-practiced sneer onto his lips. "Y-yes! The Monkey King was supposed to be destroyed! You just got lucky, that's all!"

The girl gives him a hate-filled look. Just the way it should be.

But when he looks over at Sandy, he sees confusion. And… sadness? Perhaps a bit of worry. Well, they should be worried and sad and angry at him!  They should both be afraid. And weakened or not, Red Son isn't going to let them forget that he is still a force to be reckoned with!

He fixes the Dragon Girl with what he hopes looks like a dangerous scowl. "Next time I'll be more thorough in my destruction!"

The girl doesn't look quite as frightened as Red Son would've hoped, but at the very least she clamps her loud mouth shut. She then sighs and turns to Sandy. "I don't know why you helped him. I don't think this is the kind of guy who can be saved."

Red Son's chest burns uncomfortably. It must be because of that shove she gave him earlier, exacerbating his wounds, and not the hopelessness of her statement.

Sandy shrugs and replies simply, “I've got to try, don't I?"

The girl's lips spread in a small smile of understanding and pats the large man's arm. "Yeah, and that's what's cool about you, my friend."

Sandy beams widely. But his expression switches to nervousness. "You won't tell the others, will you, Mei?"

She quirks an eyebrow up and gives him a look. "Sandy, MK is my best friend. I tell him practically everything," she deadpans.

Sandy wilts a bit, but the girl gives him another reassuring pat and says, "But I'll ask them to leave him alone…,” she shoots Red Son a dark look as she finishes her statement, “...for now.” Switching back to something more friendly, she returns her attention to Sandy. "So you better come clean yourself, soon, and give us a better explanation."

"Of course!" Sandy brightens.

With that the girl exits the houseboat, leaving Red Son and Sandy alone.

There is silence between them. Sandy looks at Red Son, and the demon does his best to not notice.

“Did she hurt you much?” Sandy sounds both worried and a bit embarrassed.

“I’m fine.” Red Son says too quickly.

Sandy comes closer and reaches a hand towards him. Red Son flinches back and the motion causes his whole body to wobble. Before he can fall back down, Sandy catches him. Red Son goes stiff and Sandy makes sure to give him some room once he regains his footing.

“Sorry.” Sandy shifts where he stands. “I noticed that one of your bandages is loose.” He gestures to a bandage on his wrist. “I may have to check you over again and re-do your bandages… If that’s okay…?”

Red Son’s chest burns again. He hates this. But he nods anyway. “Okay.”

Slowly, Sandy goes about washing and re-bandaging Red Son’s wounds. Luckily nothing was hurt too badly, but some bandages did come loose during the scuffle, and a few deeper burns had to be cared for.

They stayed mostly silent throughout much of it. Until Sandy finally spoke up. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About how ‘he was supposed to be.’” He was sitting behind Red Son working on some of the bandages on his back, and Red Son was glad for this so he didn’t see his eyes widen in alarm.

“Of- of course! I definitely meant to destroy the Monkey King and bring him to my father as a prize.” Red Son tries to keep his voice steady.

Sandy is silent for a moment as if trying to find his words. “Were you really talking about the Monkey King then? Not… someone else?”

“I-- don’t know what you mean…” The words come out stiff and stilted.

“I thought…” he began, before giving a sigh. “I guess I misinterpreted what you were saying.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” Red Son answers curtly.

After a bit more silence Sandy continues. “Have you made any progress with your powers…?”

Red Son twists around suddenly giving Sandy a wide-eyed stare. “How did you know about my powers!?” The movement hurts, but the ache of sudden vulnerability is worse.

“I noticed you trying to throw some fireballs and stuff over the past few days… And also you didn’t attack Mei. Or me, for that matter. So I just… guessed”

Red Son feels small. Like the world is pressing in around him. The Blue One’s large form, not helping. And the pain radiating from his wounds makes the sensation worse. He pushes himself away from the blue giant as he starts shivering again, the cold suddenly feeling more apparent. Everything is suddenly fuzzy, like when he first noticed that his powers were gone. But now Sandy knew, and his friends might find out. And if they found out, then maybe his parents would know. They’d know just how weak he was. His chest is pulsing with pain and he isn’t sure why. It feels like the Dragon Girl hitting him over and over again.

Warmth is suddenly draped around him. The downy sensation of a comforter holds his form. He notices that his breaths are rapid and that’s what was hurting his chest. “Breathe,” a voice calls. So he obeys. Slowly, his breaths return to normal. The blankets surrounding him give the feeling of being cradled, but not trapped, and the warmth brings his trembling to a minimum.

“Red Son,” the voice he now recognizes as Sandy calls. “Do you hear what I am saying?”

The demon looks up, meeting the Blue One’s eyes, and gives a short nod.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. I don’t think you are weak. You are just injured and healing, and that’s okay. I won’t tell anyone,” Sandy’s calm voice is reassuring. But Red Son worries about how much he might’ve just babbled.

Sandy gives him a few more moments to calm down before talking to him again. “I finished working on your bandages. I can get you some tea if you want.” Then he gives a small knowing smile at him. “If you promise not to throw the mug…”

Red Son looks the gentle giant up and down. He slowly shifts into a more comfortable and relaxed position on the bed, and huddles down into the blankets more. He doesn’t smile, but he sounds and feels more like himself in his response. “No promises.”

Sandy’s smile reaches his eyes and he goes off to make more tea.

Red Son manages to not throw the mug this time.

start || <– previous // next –>

[hanaridulsetcheese]

Coffee Shop~ Bang Chan

Reader's POV

I walked into the coffee shop and headed to the back room. I changed into my work clothes and walked to my boss' office. I saw her behind her desk with mounds of paper piled high.

"Miss K? " I called out to her.

Her head snapped up in my direction, she gave me a kind smile but it didn't reach her eyes.

"(Y/N)! You're here, thank god. " She walked over to me and pulled me into a desperate hug.

"What's wrong? " I asked, patting her back.

"Jihoo called in sick and I just got an emergency call from my sister, I need to go urgently, can I leave you alone here? "

My eyes widened and I looked at her in shock. "You want to leave me alone? It's my first day, what it I screw up? "

"You'll be fine, I trust you. Plus, I will only be a phone call away. Please tell me you'll do it! "

I looked at her, she was really desperate and I didn't want to let her down. I smile at her and nodded.

"Oh thank you! " I squeezed me tightly.

"You're w-welcome. " I say, gasping for breath as she let go of me.

"I really need to go now, I made a list of everything you would need to do, I will be back just be closing time, my sister's on the other side of Seoul. " she says handing me the list as well as the keys for the shop.

"I'll make sure everything goes well. " I say.

A few minutes after she explained everything to me, she left and I was left to open the shop. I made sure everything was set and ready before I prepared myself for the day ahead.

•=•=Time Skip=•=•

The shop wasn't so busy so I was able to relax a bit, there were a few customers sitting and going about their business normally.

I say down at the register and pulled out my phone, playing random games I didn't know I had installed.

A few minutes later, I hear the bells above the door jingle so I put my phone away ready to tend to the new customer.

"Welcome to Tea Time, can I help you? " I asked, getting off the chair to tend to the customer.

I look up and see a really tall male in front of me, he was looking at the menu board above me, his black clothes were lightly damp with the rain from outside.

His face was hidden with the hood of his jacket and huge sunglasses despite the fact that there was a lack of sunlight.

"Can I get a regular hot chocolate? " He looked down at me. He had a thick Australian accent that was honestly really cool.

"Sure, anything else? " I asked, punching in his order.

"Just a hot chocolate thank you. " He smiled, dimples formed on his cheeks.

"That will be $2,50. " I said.

He reached into his laptop back that I didn't notice before, probably because it was black and pulled out some notes. He handed it to me and I placed it in the register.

"Would this be to-go? " I asked him.

"No, I'll be here. I'll be at that booth over there. " He points to the last booth in the shop, near the window, I nod and turn to make his order.

When I was done, I went to go and give him his drink, I took this time to notice that it was only the two of us and another man in the shop, everyone else had left.

I walked towards him, not really paying attention to what I was doing, the other man had bumped into me harshly making me spill the hit chocolate on to the Australian man's notebook.

"Sorry! " said the guy as he rushed out of the shop.

"Are you okay? " the Australian man asked.

"I'm fine, I'm so sorry about your book, I'll get you a new one. " I said, looking at the page now covered in the brown drink.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. " He takes of his sunglasses.

The first thing that came to my head was, 'Wow, he's really good-looking. '

"Thanks. " he chuckled.

I realise why he said this and blushed, I said it out loud.

"I'm s-sorry, I'll just go get something to clean this up. " I rushed to the supply closet and shut the door.

I leaned against it and took several deep breaths, trying to bring my bright red face back to it's normal colour.

I got the mop from the closet and walked back to the Australian man.

"You're back, I thought your disappeared. "

"I, er- couldn't find the mop. " I blushed again.

"Well there's no need for that, I fixed the problem. " He gestured towards the now spotless floor, the cup layed on the table next him.

"How did you- "

"Baby wipes. " He picked up a pack of baby wipes and showed them to me. "Mum always told me to carry a pack of these wherever I went, now I see why. "

"I'm sorry about that whole scene. Let me get you another cup. "

I prepared another cup of hot chocolate for him and retrieved the money he gave me for it.

"Here you go. " I hand him the drink and money. "It's on the house, makes up partly for the book. "

"You didn't have to. " he says. "What would your boss say? "

"She kind of owes me for leaving me alone today, so it's cool-eh " I say.

"Chan. " he says, giving me a dimpled smile.

"(Y/N). " I reply.

"Nice to meet you. " He says.

"Same here. " I blush as he looks at me.

"You sure blush a lot. " he says.

"I'm not blushing, it's just- cold in here. "

"With the thermostat at the warmest temperature, I find it hard to believe. " he says.

"I just- "

"It's okay. I'm just messing with you. " he laughs. "So what's girl like you doing here working when you could be out there? "

"Girl like me? "

"You know, young, pretty- "

"Oh, I- " I look at him. "I'm trying to earn some money and get some experience. You know, makes my chances of getting into college better. "

"I see, I wish I could go to college. " He said.

"Why can't you? " I ask.

"Let's just say, I don't have the time to. " He says. I looked at him Inna confused way but decide to dropped the topic.

"So what do you want to study? " he asked.

"Music. " I said, with a tone of admiration.

"Big interest in the music industry I guess? "

"Very big interest. " I say.

"That's funny because, I'm in the music industry. " he says.

"Seriously?! " I take a seat opposite him. "How is it? What do you do? It's it fun? "

"Woah, one question at a time. " he chuckled.

"Sorry. " I apologized.

"I'm still training but I want to be able to produce music soon. " he says.

"That's the same with me! I really want to be able to produce my own songs, the feeling of having your song play of the radio is something I want to experience. "

"I know what you mean, being able to express your feelings your own way through something you created, that's amazing. "

"It is. " I smile. "Have you come up with any tracks yet? "

"I have a few, I'm almost done with my current one. " he says.

"Can I hear? " I ask shyly.

"Sure. " he turns the laptop and hands me the headphones, it place it on and press play on song. Instantly the beat fills my ears and I find my self indulged in the song.

"This is really good, I love the background beat, and the vibe it has- it's brilliant. " I say when the song is over. "Was that you rapping? "

"Yeah, and two of my other friends, we're in like a temporary band I guess. "

"It's really good, that fast rap part at the end was the highlight. "

"Thank you. I feel like it is missing something though. "

"Maybe more reverb, to really highlight some parts. " I say.

"More reverb? "

"Yeah see. " I highlight the parts that had the fast rap parts and more reverb to it making it stand out more.

"Here, listen. " I hand the headphones back to him.

He listening to the song again and a look of satisfaction comes into his handsome features.

"(Y/N) you're a genius! " he high fived me.

"Reverb makes everything much better, it's like the mother's hug or music. "

"Smart. " He says, he does a few more things to the song and smiles brightly. "I sent the song to my boss, he's gonna give it a listen, you saved me so much if time, thank you. " he said.

"You're welcome. " I say.

The bell on the door chimmed again and I look towards the door.

"Miss K, you're back. " I say, bowing to my boss. I didn't realise that it was almost closing time.

"Thank you for taking care of the shop, I owe you one. " she said, noticing Chan at the corner.

He got up and walked over to us, "Thank you for today, I will definitely be coming here more often. " he said walking out.

"A friend? " Miss K asked.

"It's a long story. " I sigh.

"Well, thank you again, I'll let you go now. I'll lock up. " she said.

I bowed to her again and got ready to go home. I hung up my apron in my locker and put on my jacket. I bid Miss K goodbye before stepping out.

A felt a shoulder on my hand so I turned around and was met with Chan.

"Chan, you're still here. "

"Yeah I was wondering if we could hang out sometime, I feel like I could use your knowledge. " he says.

"Uh sure, I love to. " I say and we exchange phone numbers.

"See you around (Y/N). " he said as we parted ways.

I went home that day smiling like a weirdo, I had a feeling that spilling that hot chocolate was the best thing I could've ever done in my life.

[raendown]

A commission for my wonderful wife @berry-doodles​ based on art by her good friend and talented artist Moz! 

Pairing: HashiramaMadara Word count: 3435 Rated: M Summary: No matter what the people around them said Hashirama had never minded the mirror image of himself on Madara's chest. He just wished there were a way he could get that across.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Bosom Buddies

“It’s fine.” The growl in Madara’s voice probably wouldn’t sound much different to anyone else but Hashirama knew his partner better than anyone else in the world. He knew that tone. It very much was not fine. 

“Please don’t be mad,” he begged. “You know it’s never bothered me so why-”

“I said it’s fine!” 

Madara huffed in the sharp silence following his outburst, turning his head away to look out the window. Reanimation hadn’t changed him very much, hadn’t really changed any of the people who found themselves with a second chance at life in this new and confusing future, but the handful of years that had passed since the war ended and the therapy enforced on them all by the sixth Hokage had mellowed his paranoia to a point that at times he almost seemed back to his true self. More and more often Hashirama looked at him and saw nothing but the man he had fallen in love with long before the loss of his sibling had broken him.

Unfortunately that didn’t mean he couldn’t still have bad days and it seemed like today was one of them. Hashirama had never really minded the strange effigy of his own face that hung on his lover’s chest, he did understand it was something Madara had been manipulated in to. Whether that manipulation was ultimately by Zetsu or that young Kabuto or even someone else was still unclear, though that was mostly due to Madara’s own tangled memories of death and rebirth, but the one fact that remained very clear was that he’d never intended to grow a second face on his own chest. It was very strange indeed to Hashirama that no one else seemed able to understand that. Citizens of the very village that Madara himself had dreamed of as a child now crossed the street to avoid him with their eyes drifting inevitably down to the spot where they knew a replica of their first Hokage hid under his clothing. On a good day Madara could ignore such unwanted attention. Not every day was a good day. 

“Why don’t I make us a nice hot cup of tea?” Hashirama suggested in a vain effort to bring his partner away from the front door. The fights when he stormed out always took the longest to untangle. Madara gave him such a venomous look that Hashirama wilted immediately, despondent already at the thought of how long it would be until he could give the man a nice comforting hug. 

“Tea? Tea!? I don’t want your fucking hot leaf juice! Just leave me alone! Every damn person in this village seems to want me to drop dead again and you’re offering tea!?” Pulling at the hair spilling over both shoulders, Madara turned to storm his way towards the front door, growling under his breath as he went. “Not everyone’s head is so empty they can solve their problems with a cup of god damn genmaicha!”

The slam of the door behind him rattled several frames on the walls, photographs that still made them both wonder at just how far technology had advanced over the years. Hashirama stared at one of the frames where it hung just a little off center now and did what he could to breathe through the heavy weight in his chest. Living twice had been hard for them all at times. It was difficult to imagine just how much harder it must be for Madara, his poor beloved Madara, who had gone through so much in his first life and so much more since being reanimated, revived, reintroduced to the pains of a world that never seemed to have any mercy for him. 

But, Hashirama told himself with a touch of determination, there was one mercy that life had granted them both and that was the love they shared. The fact that they had only been able to explore that love now in this strange second chance only made it all the more precious and times like this when the rest of the world seemed so unwilling to understand made it more important than ever to remind his partner that their love would never change. 

He knew just how to do that.

Well, he had an idea of how to do that. Whether or not it was a good idea he would just have to wait and see. 

Much more easily said than done. Hashirama would freely admit that he had never been the most patient person in the entire world. It would probably be a good idea for him to get a second opinion and who better to ask than the smartest person he knew? Feeling slightly more confident in himself, he finally convinced his feet to move by turning towards the kitchen and heading straight for the plastic device hanging on the wall next to their fridge. Honestly there truly was no end to the technological wonders of the future. His brother picked up the call after several rings. 

“What do you want, Anija?” 

“How did you know it was me?”

“No one else calls here,” Tobirama growled. “Neither Kakashi nor I have many friends and of those only you ever bother to call instead of crashing through our front door without permission.”

Hashirama nodded in sympathy. “Has Gai-san been intruding again?”

“I will ask ‘what do you want’ one more time and if you don’t answer I’m hanging up on you.” 

Obviously he must have interrupted something so Hashirama hurried to ask his questions. He knew only too well the kinds of things his brother might be getting up to and the disastrous results that could come from distracting him. Reanimation had done very little to quell his thirst for knowledge. If anything the experiments he proposed had only gotten wilder in recent years. 

“Maddy’s having a bad day today and I want to show him that everything will be alright, that I’ll always be there for him, you know? And I was trying to think of a good way to-”

“Sex,” his brother cut him off bluntly before he could even finish his sentence. Hashirama spluttered violently. 

“Tobirama!” he exclaimed. “That’s so inappropriate!” 

“He’s a simple man who understands simple gestures. Take him to bed.”

“You-! I-! To say such things to your own brother-!” 

On the other end of the line he could hear a deep sigh. When Tobirama spoke again it was in the same heavy tone he’d used since as far back as their childhood, full of the exasperation that came with believing he was the only sane person left in the entire world. “You want to show him that you care, fine. Make it gentle sex then - if a beast like him is capable of anything gentle. I really don’t want to know. Just wait for him to scream himself out then take your clothes off. He’ll get the hint, trust me. Are we done now? I really was in the middle of something and we did have plans for tonight.”

“Say hello to Kakashi for me,” Hashirama murmured. He listened to his sibling grumbling in the affirmative and then the line went dead without so much as a goodbye. Rather typical. He considered himself lucky Tobirama had even picked up the phone in the first place if he was so busy. 

After hanging up himself he continued to stand there for several moments, staring aimlessly around the kitchen as he turned his initial idea over and over from a new viewpoint. Much as he hated to admit it his brother did have a point. Subtlety had a way of going straight over Madara’s head and hidden messages always had a way of getting misinterpreted. They’d had a lot of fights over simple miscommunications. Of course, considering who he had fallen in love with, he’d known from the beginning that such things were bound to happen with alarming frequency. That didn’t mean he was going to stop putting in whatever efforts he could to prevent them. 

When the right idea crossed his mind it was like a lamp coming on and his entire face lit up accordingly. It was perfect. There was no way this could go anything but perfectly, he just knew it! Knowing that most of his brilliant ideas over two lifetimes had gone straight down the toilet did nothing to deter him because he knew for absolute sure that this was, to date, the best idea he’d ever had.

First things first, he needed to find just the right shirt. With a beaming smile he turned and floated down the hall in to the bedroom he shared with the man of his dreams. There were several options already in his mind, certain pieces of clothing he’d noticed always inspired a particularly hungry look from Madara. One of them had only just come out of the laundry and had yet to be folded which left it right there in the corner of the bedroom where he’d left the basket of clean clothing. Hashirama skipped over to the scene of a half done chore and rooted through the mountain until he was able to pull out a particularly short yukata. Initially it had been an accidental purchase, several sizes down from the one he’d meant to buy, but the way Madara had looked at his legs ensured he would never take it back. Slipping it over his shoulders, Hashirama turned to the mirror on the opposite wall for a first inspection. 

No good. A frown touched his brow as he turned side to side in the mirror. His legs looked as good as ever, that was true, but that was far from the part of his body he would have wanted his partner to focus on. With great reluctance Hashirama slid the garment off and tossed it back on to the heap of clean, unfolded laundry. On with the hunt. 

Half an hour later he must have gone through almost every item of clothing he owned trying to find the perfect one with very little success. So many of them highlighted different parts of himself and yet as he rejected one after another he slowly began to realise that what he was looking for might not be possible with his current options. Now that was a quandary. His plan for showing Madara how loved and wanted he was wouldn’t work at all if none of the clothes they owned would show off the right bits in the right way! 

In a fit of petulance Hashirama pouted and struck his hand out at whatever was closest, not so much in an attempt to cause destruction but more out of some childish need to punish their wardrobe for not going along with his needs. He squawked with immediate regret when a box hidden in the back of their closet came dislodged and tumbled down on to his head as though in retaliation for such violence. Several haphazardly folded shirts all spilled out over him like a rain of cloth until there was little for him to do but stand there and laugh at himself for acting so silly. With a smile Hashirama put both hands on his hips and grinned at whatever had draped itself over his eyes, unable to see anything but suddenly finding himself in a much calmer state. 

Then he reached up to pull the item off his face and froze. It was perfect. Of course! Now that it had quite literally hit him in the face the memories were coming back; this shirt had been the first Christmas gift Tobirama bought for Madara a few years after they had all been released to live their second lives. Hashirama was sure his brother thought he was being subtle with this kind of malicious compliance, buying a gift for someone just because he’d been asked to, but from the look on his face after the wrapping was torn off it had been easy to tell this gift was meant to be hated. To be perfectly honest Hashirama was a little surprised the garment had even survived to be shoved in to a closet rather than shredded at the first opportunity. A most fortuitous anomaly. 

Not wanting to waste a moment of time, he clutched the sweater a little closer and turned to dash out of the room - only to promptly trip on all the clothing he’d strewn about their bedroom floor. Perhaps he should clean up this mess before fetching the scissors. Repairing his beloved Madara’s bad mood would be for nothing if the man saw this mess and flew in to a rage all over again.

Barely more than an hour later Hashirama had only just put the finishing touches on his surprise when he heard the front door open. It took all of his meager restraint not to go thundering down the hall to drown his partner in love and apologies; he knew from experience how much better it was to simply let Madara return home at his own pace, temper as whimsical as the cats he was so fond of. Trying to smother him the moment he stepped in the door was always tempting but never ended very well. Instead Hashirama fiddled with the hem of his shirt to make sure it was perfectly in place and looked around the bedroom one last time to make sure he’d put everything away. Of course, because his luck was just like that, he spotted several things still littering the floor that he must have looked over in the initial rush to clean up. 

A tiny squeak escaped him when Madara’s footsteps came thumping down the hall. There was no time! He needed more time! Like a man possessed he lunged across the room to toss what he could in to the hamper and promised himself that he would do the laundry tomorrow so no one ever had to know there was anything hidden in there. Just as he heard the footsteps pause on the other side of the bedroom door he realized he was out of time and strove to find a natural position to stand in with whatever happened to be left in his hand - a cup, apparently. What a clean empty cup might be doing in their bedroom was beyond him but he was grateful it wasn’t something more strange. The door opened and without any better ideas Hashirama simply stood up as straight as he could and schooled his features in to a calm, welcoming smile, hoping against hope that the panic crashing around in his chest wasn’t showing. 

Keeping still as the door slowly opened inwards was among the most difficult things he’d ever had to do in his life. The look on Madara’s face when his lover spotted him made the effort very worth it. 

“What. Just. What is that?”

“It’s technically your shirt,” Hashirama confessed. “I didn’t think you’d mind me making some alterations.”

“No I don’t give a fuck about the shirt. It’s horrendous. Your brother knows damn well how much I hate this ‘ugly christmas sweater’ bullshit. I meant what the hell is that on your tit!?”

Smiling brightly, Hashirama couldn’t help looking down to admire his own handiwork. The kitchen scissors almost hadn’t been enough to cut through the thick wool of the shirt but with a little patience he’d managed to cut out a large enough hole to display the entire right side of his torso while keeping the rest of him covered. Sheer luck took most of the credit for his discovery of Madara’s kink, how quickly he could be riled up by the sight of Hashirama flashing just a hint of the goods while keeping the rest of him mostly covered, but playing to his partner’s tastes was only half the plan. 

The other half he’d drawn on with a marker. Or rather he’d made a clone to do it for him so he wouldn’t mess anything up drawing on himself at such an awkward angle. Perfectly round and a lovely dusky brown, his right nipple was just the perfect shape to draw a little frown and one narrow eye. Surround the whole thing with spikes of messy hair and it was a perfect image of his partner if he did say so himself. 

“Oh this?” Hashirama shifted in his weight and hoped it looked casual. “Well sometimes I get lonely when you’re not here so I thought it might be nice if you were with me all the time. Actually I was thinking of making it permanent. You don’t mind, right?” Under the emotions he’d never put much effort in to controlling Hashirama did, in fact, have a working brain. No matter what his brother thought. He knew exactly the weight his gentle smile carried, knew exactly why Madara looked as though he’d just been brought up short like a runaway horse. 

“Mi-? N-no I don’t...mind…” His partner looked away with a frown and a splash of red growing across both cheeks. 

“Excellent!” 

If only there were something in the cup for him to oh so casually sip at. Hashirama waited patiently for those beautiful dark eyes to finally make their way back to him. Then he watched with very little surprise as they trailed their way slowly down the length of his body, staring either at the gesture he’d drawn on to his own chest or at the hem of his shirt where an inch or so of skin was peeking out, a hint at the naughty things hidden just above. 

“I hate you,” Madara told him in a weak voice and that was exactly what Hashirama had been waiting for. After setting the cup aside he moved across the room to frame the other man’s face. 

“No you don’t.”

“Hng. Do too. I hate you so much. You’re...awful. And terrible.”

Leaning in slowly was enough to prove to them both that Madara had no intentions of pulling away even given the opportunity to do so; it made the victory of a slow deep kiss that much more delicious. When Hashirama pulled away he bent his neck to press their foreheads together instead and allowed himself a moment to simply breathe in everything that was Madara. 

“I love you too,” he murmured because he knew what his partner was trying to say. Words were nice, he would of course adore being buried under waves of flowery words every day, but he’d never really needed them to know how his partner felt. 

For a long moment he got no response. The two of them stood in the doorway of their bedroom with their eyes closed and swayed to the beat of their own hearts. 

“Thank you,” Madara broke the silence eventually in a voice so quiet it was barely there. With tears in his eyes Hashirama bent for another deep kiss. 

“Don’t you want to unwrap your present now?” he hinted. 

The gratitude in Madara’s eyes was as obvious as the relief but Hashirama knew better than to comment on either. Instead he opened his arms and smiled happily when his partner stepped in to them as easily as a puzzle piece sliding in to place. When they undressed together neither man so much as glanced down at the immoving effigy attached to Madara’s chest, all of their attention reserved for naught but the task of chasing pleasure together, savouring the happiness it had taken them more than a lifetime to find. 

Others, Hashirama knew, would always say what they wanted to about the choices his partner had made so many years ago, and although the man preferred not to show it he knew those words would often cause pain. But there was nothing he would like more than to spend the rest of his years on this earth  soothing the wounds that others made and proving to Madara that his opinion mattered the most - and that his heart would always be filled with nothing but love. Whatever mistakes they had both made in the past could stay there as far as he was concerned. He would stand by Madara’s side through it all no matter what the people of this village thought about it and he would proclaim his love to whoever would listen as many times as it took for that to be clear. 

Later as they lay blanketed in evening shadows, Hashirama pretended sleep just to feel the caress of rough fingers tracing the ink upon his chest and knew that when this life was done he would die with no regrets. 

[xsteriism]

Too Good to be Bad

Chapter One: Trouble is Cooking

by celestial-irondad 

1, 225 words 

1/?

based on @funkylittlebidiot’s chat post about ironstrange

edit: click on the chapter title to read it on ao3!!!

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There are two sides to Dr Stephen Vincent Strange. On one hand, he can be holed up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for weeks on end, just reading book after book after book. He’ll have a bitter cup of tea, no sugar, right beside him as he reads in his rocking chair, with the polluted air of New York City penetrating into his living quarters. 

On the other hand, sometimes all he wants to do is to bring chaos to the lovely New York City. He usually has a plan ready whenever these episodes happen, something to spice up the petty lives of the Avengers. For example, Stephen’s currently in the Avengers’ quinjet, tied up like some rope bunny, on his way to the Avengers’ Compound. It may not seem like it, but everything is falling into place. Stephen’s capture was planned, his trip to the Compound was planned. He’s going to destroy the Compound from the inside and these measly superheroes won’t even see it coming. 

Of course, Stephen made it slightly difficult for the Avengers to capture him. He’s not a complete idiot. He fought with whoever was present for about an hour, only showing off the simple spells he had learnt. Nothing more was needed with these superheroes. He could have gone on, too, if it weren’t for the fact that he had a time schedule to keep. 

The moment the Compound comes into view, Stephen is momentarily winded from the sheer beauty of it. The architecture is breathtaking and whoever designed it deserves a golden, gleaming medal. But before he can make a comment on it, he’s carried into the building by one very strong Captain America, who doesn’t seem to break a sweat. 

‘Did I not gain weight?’ Stephen questions himself internally. ‘All I had been doing this past month was eat, sleep and shit. Surely, I had gained some weight?’

He doesn’t dwell much on it because he’s forced out of his thoughts when he’s unceremoniously dumped into a very hard wooden chair. He groans at the ache growing at his rear end, cursing at the existence of magic binding ropes. He sighs soon after, his mood quickly turning sour. This was supposed to be a fun little excursion, a break from being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for the past two months. Why did the Avengers have to ruin everything? What kind of sick joy did they obtain from this? All Stephen wanted, was a little explosion, a small firework celebration as the Compound burned.

“Is the interrogation part going to begin?” The sorcerer drawls, looking utterly disinterested, even yawning to prove his point. The Black Widow steps forward threateningly, with her knives gleaming in the light before she’s promptly stopped by Captain America. 

The doctor smirks. Is it this easy to rile these heroes up? 

The Black Widow stabs her knife into the armrest of Stephen’s wooden chair, looking dangerous. “Here’s how it’s going to go. We’re going to ask some questions and you’re going to answer them.”

Stephen raises his eyebrows and closes his eyes as he nods. These superheroes are cute if they think he’ll spill all his secrets just because they asked him to.

“What are the sorcerer’s plans?” Captain America asks arms crossed over his chest, trying to look more intimidating, obviously to no avail. Stephen just looks even more unimpressed, if possible. 

“Oh, mine?” He asks back, looking around as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I don’t really know. I was planning to make myself a nice cup of tea after this, but I think that may have to be postponed.”

The Black Widow drags her knife along the length of the armrest. The doctor glances at the action, not bothered in the slightest. It would take much, much more to successfully instil fear into him. Her little tricks may work on the normal people she usually interrogates, but not Stephen. Really, is this the best she could do? Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme and he feels slightly offended that the Black Widow thinks she can scare him by just using mere knives. 

Please, he’s seen scarier in his dreams.

“What is the—” before Captain America can finish repeating the same question, the door to the interrogation room slides open. And the sorcerer finds himself out of breath for the second time that day. 

Stephen is absolutely sure that the man who walked into the room is not of this world. He’s wearing the tightest black shirt that clings to his body in the most delicious of ways, complementing his muscles beautifully. His sweats are too loose for Stephen’s liking, but well, he can’t win everything, now can he? The man has an oil stain on his perfectly sculpted face, smudged right below his eye, right on his cheekbone, highlighting it. His lips are quirked into a stunning smile, his hair a lovely shade of brown. Stephen isn’t quite close enough to see the colour of his eyes, but he’s sure they are also as enchanting as the rest of him. 

“Hey,” the ethereal man says, pausing at the sight of Stephen tied up. He pauses a little too long, eyeing the villain up and down, clearly liking what he sees. “Oh, hello to you, too. Anyway, stop by the lab if you want your suit patched up, Nat. I have some upgrades in mind, too.”

Oh, his voice. Such an angelic sound. The sorcerer thinks he can listen to it forever. Forget being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum reading his ancient books, Stephen wants to be cooped up in this man’s room. 

The doctor kicks Captain America in the shin, uncaring that he doesn’t get a dramatic reaction. “Wait, what? This is your boss?”

The man in red, white and blue frowns, unfolding his arms. “What? No? Tony’s not our—”

Right at this moment, a golden portal appears, blazing as Wong steps through it. The assistant falters at the sight of the people gathered, but quickly casts a spell that shields him from the rest and casually starts to untie Stephen. The Avengers are in a state of shock, but before they can move, Wong seizes the opportunity to momentarily paralyse them. Their faces are varying degrees of shock and fury when they realise what happened, but before they can shout, Stephen speaks.

“Why have we been wasting our time with these idiots,” Stephen cries, pointing to everyone in the room, besides his angel, “when this being has been roaming around the halls of this building? Oh, Vishanti! This has been a colossal waste of my time!”

Wong mumbles an incoherent reply, before speaking up. “So… I’m guessing we won’t be blowing the building up today?”

Stephen looks at Wong incredulously, rubbing his sore arms before using a little spell to knock the occupants in the room unconscious. He catches Tony right before he hits the ground, cradling the body close to his chest as if Tony was a delicate piece of china. The rest of the Avengers drop to the floor like sacks of potatoes, creating ‘thunking’ sounds that make Stephen smile.

“Of course not, Wong,” Stephen rolls his eyes, hoisting Tony into his arms, carrying him bridal style. “Let’s go back to the Sanctum. We’ll blow this place up another time. I have important things to do, now.”

----

hello! i hope you enjoyed this little fic! maybe i’ll write a second part to this, who knows? anyway, please reblog if you liked it, give me some comments? 

*this is my first time writing ironstrange and i dont usually write romantic ish relationships (im hermit crab irondad, not hermit crab ironeveryone), but i hope its good enough..? 

thank you @technically-a-little-dragon for beta-ing this fic and for getting me to write for the marvel fandom again i dont really know who to tag, but since i always tag you... @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad @jaijaiwriter @hollandrecs 

[alltingfinns]

The Reichenbach Fall

Back again.

18 months since the last appointment. So he has kept seeing her. (Sherlock was probably proud that John ignored Mycroft’s advice to fire her.)

John’s face during that scene. :’(

Bit forced way to get the Reichenbach fall in there without leaving London.

“He means thank you”

Married!

John smiled at the camera but frowns in the photo. Just a continuity error? Or John got bad luck with the photo.

No faith in Sherlock picking up on sarcasm when it comes to remarks about his diplomatic tact.

The Deerstalker. About to be embraced by Sherlock as the costume for “being Sherlock”. The Coat is for feeling himself, The Deerstalker is for putting up the persona.

And of course Sherlock made sure to note the mention/s of John in the article.

“Confirmed Bachelor”. And even when it’s just “bachelor” John picks up on the implications.

I love the comedy effect of one dialogue = two conversations scenes.

The Netflix Swedish subtitle substitutes “confirmed” for ”inbitne” which is more like “stubborn” or “persistent”. 😏

“Why would it upset you?”

It’s not just the hindsight of Sholto, it’s the terribly wrong conclusion that Sherlock is going to arrive at.

“It keeps doing that”. It’s fun to contrast this scene with TST where he starts out barely looking up from the phone.

Talking people into suicide, bit of a theme really for this show. The idea of murdering through suicide goading, homophobia is a serial killer.

He did as John asked of him and found himself a low profile case. And John just snarks about it. The underappreciation goes both ways sometimes.

The fancy animations on the phone. Just because.

Everyone’s spilling tea but Lestrade. But then again his paper cup says coffee and balance of probability says that’s what he’s drinking. So the coffee doesn’t spill.

I miss the “not our division” meme.

I like the physics idea of using a diamond to concentrate the force to a point. Diamonds are hard enough to fully transfer the force that Jim is applying.

Why is John’s robe so short?

The purity of how John looks at Sherlock just after he was threatened by a terrorist, with Sherlock’s face lit up like a Disney princess.

The male guard nodding like there’s nothing untoward about asking the female guard “would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket?”

“Right, nothing creepy or suggestive about that.”

What is the point of that scene anyway? Is it about adding sexual undertones in general to Jim? Adding menace? Is chewing gum another code? I mean it’s short, but it still feels like it should mean something.

Maybe to compare to the next one.

Maybe to highlight the bias where Jim coming on strong to a woman looks threatening but Kitty coming on strong to Sherlock doesn’t (from a heterosexist viewpoint).

Want to shut up Sherlock? Bring up his and John’s relationship and suddenly he has no quick reply. And so many know this weakness of his.

“Set the record straight”

How have I missed this play on words? How? HOW?!?

Do not press Sherlock’s buttons if you can’t stand up to scrutiny.

Backseat driving a court case. Then again he’s probably well aware of court proceedings in order to determine what evidence would or would not convince a jury.

Every big villain Sherlock gets an animal. But also Jim isn’t a man, but an idea.

The guy who ate the wafer looking down at the crumbs on his jacket. Underrated comedy

That cut is one of the best jokes in the show. The best touch is showing Sherlock taking a breath to talk rather than just cutting immediately after the judge’s question.

This is the most married episode. John’s “what did I say” here, the earlier domesticity, etc.

The “look”. Sherlock assuming John knows what he’s thinking, but at least John knows him well enough to know that’s what he’s assuming.

Most married episode

I am going to be a mess in the end, aren’t I?

John’s hand is nervous with the verdict.

Sherlock offering John’s chair. Maybe he’s fine with Jim sitting there like he is with Mycroft, or he’s using reverse psychology, or he just really doesn’t want Jim in his chair.

I’m definitely overthinking this, but the chairs are given importance in the show.

“Did you listen” in a singsong voice. His phone signal being “Staying Alive”? Does that count? Or is he referring to John “showing his hand”?

“Tiny line of computer code”. This is a fun nod to the fact that computer hacking is often more social than technical. Why brute force a password if you can get to the one who made it? Like the court case. He didn’t need a defense, he just needed to get to the right people.

Jim knows what people want and fear.

“I should get myself a live-in one.” Que a million Moran fics. (Or maybe Morstan?)

Where does this debt come from? Why does Jim owe him a fall?

Did he already know they had a basket of apples in their living room? Would he have carried one in his pocket if they didn’t?

What if he got it set up together with the surveillance? Banking on John and Sherlock being so oblivious as to assume it was the other (or mrs Hudson) who put it in?

Two months later, which was six weeks after a montage that was three months earlier. Assuming rounding errors and we’re now within the very week or so that John went to therapy. Things are going to be happening very fast now, but at least he didn’t wait that long to get help.

“Why must my in-law be such a drama queen?”

“And a wanker as well?!?”

No seriously, not even getting the driver to warn John about the club rules?

This is so much funnier when you’ve been watching clips of “Yes Minister” on YouTube. I can definitely picture Humphrey being a member of the Diogenes. Where’s the crossover fic?

Every scene with John and Mycroft from now on are going to be snark-to-snark combat. Probably because this is the point where John is so comfortable with him that he can go full out.

Ooohhh that music cue! Mycroft’s “I stood for an hour leaning on an umbrella to ensure I got the perfect pose for dramatic effect” music.

Not sure if it’s wise to fill up a ptsd ridden ex soldier with paranoia fuel.

But John’s lack of self preservation strikes again and he just opens a mysterious envelope with his fingers.

And then plays with the crumbs inside.

The one brain cell containing John’s self preservation instinct is screaming, but unheard as it has long since been disconnected.

Still don’t get why the recovery of that one painting got him a hero title.

This is getting long. I’ll post this and start on the next post.

[parkeraul]

request : maybe something where shawn’s girl gets all awkward every time she hears a song because she knows it’s about someone else, and he ends up realizing

the sweetest hello, the saddest goodbye   ︴oneshot

a/n: this turned to be very angsty for a reason that i don’t know lol. it’s over-the-top dramatic for me but i hope you like it, i wrote it with my entire heart. shawn x readerwarnings: angst. words: 2,753.

Another show is off and her heart floats between proud and pain. The crowded stadium screams in excitement and the lights are beautifully decorating the big rose in the middle of it, making her feel so guilty about feeding such uncertain thoughts; harmful thoughts. She’s standing at the side-stage, her brain screaming the lyrics of his song over and over again. Not even his breathtaking high-note could speak louder than her agony and she hates to find herself doubting her own instincts, wondering if she should spill the tea in one fluid vent or let it torture her heavy chest until she can learn how to deal it the possibility that he might be still stuck on someone else.

Shawn’s mind is always somewhere away from reality when he leaves the stage to head towards his dressing room, running throughout the backstage like a little toddler. His energy sparkles everywhere, bringing everyone with him. And she wishes more than anything else that she could feel comfortable to be a part of it. But as she notices that he’s not even close to give her some attention yet, she feels her head aching, constantly looking for answers through the memories passing in front of her eyes like the worst movie she’s ever seen. She just wants it to stop. 

Crossing the green room, she trails her way to the closest bathroom when she sees that no one’s watching her body leave the room – she doesn’t want to be bothered or questioned, she just needs a time with herself. As soon as she enters the cold space, the door is immediately shut close by her foot, bringing her back to lean against it and her hands to cover her face. She takes a deep breath. Two. Three. And it only seems to intensify the throbbing feeling on the knot that’s forming in her throat, insisting on holding not only her cry but also her words inside herself for what seems like an eternity. She goes to the sink to splash some water on her face and wrists as her eyes get lost focusing on a random spot of the mirror. Never blinking, they start to get dry and her brain doesn’t even remember to send the information for her eyelids to take a break and close – instead, it brings her one of the moments that incentivated her heart to sink down in doubts.

“Shawn, Shawn, Shawn… Your album is just a bop!” The narrator compliments, rubbing his palms and giving him a devilish smile that Shawn couldn’t seem to understand the intentions behind it yet. “Thank you, man!” Shawn caresses his chin with the side of his index finger, bringing is middle finger to softly pinch at the skin. “I’m glad you liked it.” “I loved it!” He replies, cutting Shawn off right at the end of his ‘liked it’. “And we’ve seen that you’re getting pretty excited with a very specific song on stage recently.” Shawn’s eyes are widening gradually and he swallows thickly, frowning after a moment and trying to predict whatever he was talking about so he could answer properly with no mistakes. “That one where you’re hitting insane high notes and dancing, driving those girls crazy!” Another narrator kicks in and he looks at her instantly, smiling and relieved. For a moment he thought he had messed up something by cursing on stage or whatever. “And since your lyrics have been showing themselves in kind of an explicit way…” “More personal too,” The second narrator highlights. “I need to ask: what inspires you to rock this song so passionately?” Shawn finishes taking a sip of water that he started drinking while the question was being asked and takes a breath before moving closer to the microphone in front of him. “I guess that… It’s easier to pass the feeling to the crowd when I remember about the situation while singing, you know?” Shawn begins. “Oh, so is it about a real experience? Is it about a person you’ve been with?” Damn it. “Yes…” Shawn answers and he realizes that there’s no turning back, he knows he’s a terrible liar and his voice would fail, making him stutter and sound squeaky. “I wrote it based on a experience of mine and this song means a lot to me because I feel like I was able to write from the bottom of my heart with sincerity,” She was standing on a sofa at the corner of the studio beside Andrew, who had his face silently warning Shawn that he was being such a big mouth. She had her expression standing flat, processing and trying to remember if they have ever lived that moment before. And all that she could get was a blank. They’ve never lived something like this. His cheeks flushed and eyes wide open. But he didn’t mind, he never noticed it before until he said it. “C’mon, Mendes! You were very intimate during this moment apparently, so it’s more than just heart…” The narrator says between giggles, looking for more reveals. “It sounds like she really got the best of you. She really had you, eh?” Another narrator speaks and he feels surrounded by danger, managing to nod in affirmation and laugh with them, wishing that they’d change subjects very soon. In a matter of seconds, the moment was over and he forgot about it. She, on the other hand, didn’t.

She finally finds some courage to leave the bathroom to find everyone hanging out on the couch, chatting and laughing at each others. Her ears are getting random phrases like “That was awesome!”; “I’m not even a fan and I felt like passing out after that thing!”; “You drove them insane, dude!”“There you are! I’ve been looking for you. Where were you?” Shawn screams and jumps to rush his steps towards her body looking fragile and tired. “Bathroom.” Giving him a forced smile, she gives into his hold for a second and keeping her arms between her and his chest, not buying the whole embrace thing. She couldn’t even try to fake one. “Are you okay, hun?” His glance on her seems pretty worried, breaking the contact to hold her tightly by the waist like she’d fall down at anytime. “I…” Her hand runs through her hair, tugging at the strands and dropping her arm down, sighing. “I don’t feel like having dinner with everyone today. Just gonna grab my things and head back to the hotel.” “I’m coming with you then, I just need to-” “No,” She interrupts, shaking her head in denial. “Go have fun with them, this is-” “I said I’m coming with you,” He interrupts back and makes sure to look her deep in the eyes when saying that. “Dinner can wait, we have lots of dinners ahead of us.” She just gives up and mumbles an ‘okay’ before they’re all packing the few things to go. 

And the ride home is silent. Awkwardly quiet. Both shaking their legs in anticipation and his greenish eyes are attentive, ready to notice any sign that she’s not feeling good to stay inside the car until they arrive. 

They step into the room and the atmosphere is already unpleasant. “What’s going on, darlin’? Shawn approaches her and she walks back, avoiding his touch because she knows that if she gives into it, she might not feel confident enough to speak her heart out. “Can… Can we talk?” “About…?” “About us.” He gulps. “Sure. G-Go on, I’m all ears.” He sits on the edge of the mattress, reaching for her soft hands with his and she even lets him hold them for a while just to squeeze them strongly before pushing her fingers back to cross her arms in front of her chest. She could feel the tips of her limbs freezing in nervousness, heart beating so fast that she was afraid it’d explode at anytime. Breathe – she thinks to herself – you have to say it; this is the moment to do it. “I know that we… well, we’re doing this for a few months and we don’t even know how to call it exactly,” She chuckles in nervousness, walking around a small space delimited by her imagination, sticking to it ‘cause otherwise she’d probably walk the entire city. “But I know that I want it to keep going, I know I want to discover more and find out how this is going to be,” Shawn smiles and he feels his chest warming inside, because he feels the same. Studying every motion of hers, he feels hungry to know what else she has to say. “The only thing I don’t know is if I can do this.”His smile fades away. “What d-do you-” “Shawn, baby,” What a torture to be called baby right before listening to something that was about to break him into a million pieces. “I’ve been around you long enough to notice every little detail of yours… You know how I observe things so cautiously,” She stands in front of him and he tilts his head up, meeting her sad look with glistening eyes, forcing herself a smile that doesn’t suit her at this moment. “And clearly we’re not at the same place.” He frowns and pouts, trying to find any word to say to make her change her mind. He could get on his knees right now and beg for her not to finish her speech and, just when he thinks about it – looking for the space available for him to consider doing this – he sees her bag standing at the corner of the room against the wall, obivously filled with her stuff. 

He doesn’t understand. 

They’d met suddenly, and it was a beautiful way to give fate a meaning. He felt lost and she felt empty, the perfect recipe for a hurried relationship. They’ve been drowning into each other intensely, going at it like they wouldn’t find love ever again. She knew what to do and he always knew what to say, they were enough. Weren’t they? How wouldn’t they be enough? They craved everything about the other. The passion, the touch, the sex, the kiss, the happy and serious times. She turned to be one of the most special people he’d ever met and he’s sure he would even die for her if needed. He always made sure to hold her like she was made of glass and tell her silly jokes to earn a laugh, a smile, anything. He loved to cuddle with her in the middle of the night when she couldn’t forget the horror movie they’ve just seen and scare her in the morning, because he knew she would ask for a hug and a kiss to calm herself. They both planned in silence the perfect way to introduce the other to their parents. He wanted it to happen in a lunch with all his family, she wanted it to happen during a lazy weekend with time enough for everyone to gather around in the living room. There’s a deep connection between the two of them that makes everything harder to let go of. How wouldn’t they be enough? They weren’t enough for the simple reason that he mirrored in her all the things he hadn’t time to do with his past lover. And it shows. 

“I know it sounds childish and foolish but… I see how you wish you could turn back time, you know?” She knees in front of him and he immediately leans down to stay at the same level that she is. “I see how you write about her, I see how you find yourself looking through her recent news, I see how you sing about her,” Her tone fails at the word because she wishes it was her. She wants to be the thought on his mind just like he is on hers. “The way you sing this part; the excitement… I wonder if this is about the song itself or if this is still about her.” The bad thing is that he knows what part she means, just because it’s the part he wants to tell the world the most and he can’t deny. He wants to give it another meaning, though. “See? I don’t even need to ask because you tell everything, no need to express it with words.” And Shawn tries to vanish away any sign that he’s confirming this. He doesn’t want to. He wants to feel his heart beating for her only, no one else involved. His sight goes blurry due to the tears taking over his eyes, he feels so desperate. It’s not supposed to be like this. He loves her, he surely does. But deep inside he knows that there’s something keeping him in the past, not letting him move on that easily. She stands up to catch her bag, dragging it with her back to where he was standing – looking all around the hotel room as if the objects would give him the solution he was searching for. When Shawn hears the tiny wheels of her bag rolling across the floor, he promptly stands on his feet and grabs her body with hunger. He can feel his blood boiling through his veins and burning the expansion of them rapidly. There’s no sanity right now, there’s no calmness. “Baby, please,” He says through gritted teeth, breathing quickly and shaking slightly. “I’m gonna make it right. Just give me one chance and I swear to you,” The tears are rolling down his cheeks one right after the other, soaking his rosy skin. He starts sobbing and his eyes are squinting, face contorting and he gives up. His head tilts down on the crook of her neck and he presses her body against his with all his strength. She couldn’t go, he wouldn’t let her go. “I don’t want this to end,” He whispers more to himself than to her and she just shuts her eyes close like they’d be able to stop the tears streaming down her face. “You don’t deserve a guy like me but I promise you that I’ll give you everything you need, I promise you, baby,” Shawn gets back to face her and his hands are now holding her head with his palm and fingers covering everything they can. She keeps her eyes closed, feeling the calloused tips of his fingers sinking further into her hair. And then he kisses her with his entire body and soul. His lips are pecking hers desperately and she places her hands on his chest, his lungs making it pulsate fast, but with some difficulty. His tongue shyly slides into her mouth and he feels alleviated when she lets him do it, reciprocating and tasting him for what she fears that it’d be the last time. 

Unfortunately, it had to be. 

The kiss echoes smack sounds throughout the room, the most delicious sensation and noises that only she can provide him. He can’t miss it, he can’t go on without it. And he feels out of place when she lets go of the kiss. 

“I’m so sorry, babe,” She pecks his plump red lips once more and moves her hand back to her bag. “But… I can’t. Not like this.” She backs off but he reaches her again, grabbing her gently by the wrist. “I’m not letting you go.” He nods rapidly in denial, his nerves trembling inside of his body. She gives in and places her hands on his cheeks, looking him in the eyes. “We have the fate by our side, remember?” She says and he nods once again, holding her wrists lightly, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumbs. “If it’s supposed to happen, we’ll find a way.” He rolls his eyes, denying the fact that they do need a time to think things over. He wants it and he wants it now. “You gotta let me go, sweetheart. Don’t make it harder than it already is. Nothing that you say to me right now is going to change my mind… Sorry.” 

She walks away and he stays frozen at his spot, looking at her trailing her way to the door with anger, because he knows he’s wrong. He promised, he swore and he’d give her the entire world from the moment she said her sweetest hello to him when they first saw each other. But that wasn’t enough.  

The door closes and he can’t feel anything else but guilt consuming him and his fist punishing the wall impulsively.

[voidgremlin]

An oath to Hope

Doctor who human au fanfic

Chapter 1: I think I met a shooting star.

“Park Hill enter D, presumed TWOC with IC1 (‘individual of white skinned European appearance’) female”

A junior officer with dark brown hair in a tight bun turned her head expectedly to her colleague, a lean man with messy brown hair and an as well messy beard who winked at her. He was her senior for her training and couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

“Patrol 7 on it.”

PC Khan asked “What is TWOC ?”

“Well… It is… mhm. I guess it is when someone lose their car keys and try to jimmy their way in. In the dark of the night ? Something like that.” Kenny said with a thick Scottish accent.

“So it’s vehicle theft ?”

“I mean… We can’t assume thievery right away, it is a presumed Taking without owner’s consent ! And who need cars nowadays ?”

Yasmin chuckled “You would be surprised on how many would contradict you sir.”

“By the way, isn’t Park Hill where you live ?”

“Oh my stars ! It is ! We got to go very quickly !” She exclaimed quickening her steps to the car. “I am driving sir.”

“Alright but no need to call me sir !” He said throwing her the keys .

As Yasmin Khan drove them to the potential crime scene. Her senior started to lean in his chair ignoring seatbelt and his legs unto the tabletop of the car. Rambling about the nightshift hours and it made his skin itchy that it could be his alleged time sickness, it only made Yasmin roll her eyes in silence.

Arriving to the Park Hill estate illuminated by the yellow light of many street lamps. Yasmin quickly made her way on the parking lot searching for the thief. Be it was quiet, it looked like nothing.

Agent Coinneich Tàileach or better known as Kenny ran by her side.

“Why are you running PC Khan ? You know this TWOC might be just ten racoons under a coat ?”

“A what”

“Racoons. Or a ghost … who knows ?”

“It is definitely not ghost” Yasmin pointed out to a Pontiac blue car with the highlights on, illuminating another car, trunk and hood opened, wires spilling out with a short woman arms full of sludge, blonde hair tied up in a lousy ponytail.

Yasmin knew that car, it was her neighbor’s and she pulled out her flashlight directed to the woman’s face.

“Hi ?”

The woman turned her head toward Yasmin and to be plainly honest she got a quite beautiful face.

“Hi !”  Oh scratch that ! Now the woman smiled and she got now a way more pretty face and Yaz could feel her face burning up.

“What…” The junior agent turned to her senior who seemed quite interested about the whole situation and wasn’t about to help with it. “What are you doing ma’am ?”.

“I. AM. UHM. NOT. CARJACKING.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“No ! I am repairing ! The car it made a sound like RATATATATATATA for quite a while !” she made wild gesture while making the sounds as loud as possible.

“Madam you need to quiet down a bit, it is 2 a.m.”

“Who ?”

“You.”

“Oh ! Madam is me ! Alright yeah ! I will shhhhh” she made the motion on her lips, her smile still so beautiful.

Yaz made a few step toward the woman, noticed a grey coat lying on the ground next to O’Brian’s car. The blonde woman was jittery and not making eye contact.

“Anyway, car was making a noise and the man who drives it seems to not want to get her to a mechanic soooo I brought a mechanic !”

“Who ?”

“Me ! It could have been bad ! Maybe explosion bad ! Like BAM no mister Graham ! And yeah, we don’t want that !”

Yasmin frowned at the mention of mister O’Brian name but didn’t pursued, instead looked at the mechanic, she was a little gaunt, didn’t seemed to have slept in while.

“You know, you could let the car alone for tonight and I know mister O’Brian” Yasmin said while motioning to her chest. “I will tell him about the car and we will get it fixed. Alright ?”

But the woman didn’t listened. She went right back into the car, mumbling to herself. “No, no, no I can do it myself, I am able to do it. I can fix it. No more sounds !”

Kenny looked at Yaz and encouraged her to keep talking to the mystery while he called to the station to inform of the lack of thievery, pretending that it was neighbor being an asshole. Yasmin walked beside the mechanic whose hands kept shaking. She won’t be able to fix anything.

“Hello, my name is Yasmin.”

The woman kept her eyes down to the motor, making a fist to hide her weakness.

“Hi, I’m Nadzieja.”

“So what is wrong with the car of the old man ?”

It made her smile. “Well, the sound is because the serpentine belt is getting loose and it if breaks it would… Just break everything else.”

“Alright, it seems like a big problem, how can I help ?”

She looked at her like Yaz said some kind of magic. “Oh I love you, you sounds brilliant !” then proceeded to instruct to her how to change the serpentine with clear instruction which Yasmin tried to follow with a lot of mistakes. But she  learned a whole lot and finally succeeded when the morning started to show.

“Oh my bloody stars ! We made it ! We saved the car !” Nadzieja screamed in victory when the motor roared with a bloody sound.

“Yeah !” Yasmin smiled, tired, sweaty but victorious.

The scream made birds fly away and woke up the poor colleague who was trying to take a nap. He made a weak fist bump into the air in support. They slowly cleaned up their mess, the mystery woman’s hands weren’t shaking anymore and Yasmin felt like she made the universe a little more brighter.

“So do you wish we accompany you to your home ?”

“Uh ?”

“Your home ? Do you live in the estate ?”

“Oh no !” She said while putting off the highlights of the blue car. “I sleep in there !”

“In your car ?”

“Yeah ! I travel a lot ! So… “ she slapped the wheel of the car “That is my home.”

“I… ok ?”

Nadzieja nodded to her wildly. “That being said officers ! I wish you goodnight !” and laid down in the back seat, holding a yellow blanket to her chin. Not bothering with the smudge and the sweats. They both looked at her sleeping with strained smiles. Before going back to the police station with heavy steps.

Kenny took over the driving this time around having benefited from his little nap. PC Khan kept thinking about the woman, how tired she seemed, stressed out, she wanted to do right by someone she didn’t know about, shouldn’t know about.

“I have address of some woman shelters if you want.”

“What ?” Yasmin asked.

“For the surprise mechanic lady, when you go back home, you could give her address of shelter or association so she can find some housing.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks ! That’s a great idea !” pulling out her note pad, taking down the addresses.

“You are welcome my dear padawan.”

They returned to the station, putting back their equipment and the senior agent got called in the S.O. office to explain why the hell they were away the whole night. Yasmin wanted to explain but Kenny told her that he could handle it.

Yasmin Khan returned home exhausted but hoping to see her again. Reaching the parking lot she spend an hour in it, searching for the fated blue car. But the car was gone and she was gone to Yasmin dismay.

Yasmin was welcomed home by her family slowly waking up and the odor of fresh coffee, she decided to go directly to sleep, anxiety toward the woman she barely knew gnawing her insides. Her mom kissed her forehead seeing her worried but the magic of a mom kiss didn’t helped with the sleep. The beautiful woman was gone probably dealing with her issues on her own, definitely had it handled, like she couldn’t handle the car motor engine with her shaky hands or the lack of sleep or eating. What if she got into a car accident ? What if she got hurt and no would know her name. Would someone help her if needed ?

“Gosh darnit”

In any case sleep eluded her so she decided to spend the rest of the day, to her parents dismay, searching for a Pontiac blue car in the town of Sheffield. Hoping, dearly hoping to find her. At least see her safe.

The blue car was parked in front of the old building next to the hospital. The sight of it made the blonde woman shiver. But it wasn’t why she was there. She stared at the front door and saw a tall woman in a blue and gold dress getting out. She seemed well and healthy. Nadzieja followed with her eyes, the woman leaving and sighed in relief. One day she will be able to talk to her.

She searched everywhere, on her sister bike, wandering the streets like a madman. Asking florist and people at the counter of coffee shop, she even went by the aforementioned women shelter and yet nothing. No leads, no trace. The woman vanished. Hours went by and her body couldn’t handle much more exertion. She returned home with quiet sob of frustration.

It is only when she reached the parking lot that she saw, the beautiful blue car, standing exactly where she left it. She approached nearly throwing to the ground the bicycle seeing through the windshield, the older woman writing through what seemed to be a diary. She was so pretty.

She softly knocked on the window, blushing. Nadzieja looked at her with surprise and a smile.

“Hi !”

“Hi. I was wondering if you wanted a cuppa of tea ? I live nearby.”

She was dreading a negative answer, after all she was only a stranger who met a few hours ago and she must look like hell with the lack of sleep and her hair… Gosh she forgot to fix her hair !

“You are Yasmin ! My brilliant assistant ! I remember you.”

“oh !”

“You seems like a wonderful person and I would love to drink some tea at your place !”

Yasmin beamed, to hell the little information she was supposed to share with her, to hell duty or sleep. All she wanted now was to be with this beautiful shooting star.

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 10

39: “Please, just let me help you.

It’s a moment of relative calm for our babies. Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Part 9] [AO3]

The following day dawned with a clear sky and a cold breeze, and Belle turned her face up to the sun as she walked to the diner where she worked. She felt something approaching relief following her conversation with Gold. There had been so much pain festering away inside her since their break-up, and it was good to let some of that go, to let him understand just how much he had hurt her. After he had left, she had slept well for the first time in weeks, and she felt as though they were at least starting to turn a corner in their relationship. If she could get through the next two months without wanting to kick him in the balls, she would consider it a win.

It was satisfying to be able to give her notice at the diner, and she was fairly certain Ed was just as relieved as she that he wouldn’t have to fire her. She agreed to work the rest of her shifts for the week, and was due to leave on Friday. Jasmine tentatively suggested going out after their final shift together, but Belle shook her head.

“By the time seven p.m. rolls around, I’ll just want to take a shower and fall asleep,” she said, as she wiped down a table. “We could maybe have lunch, though. Are you free on Saturday?”

Jasmine scrunched her nose, shaking her head.

“Can we make it Sunday?” she asked. “Ariel’s supposed to be taking me apartment-hunting. We’ve seen four so far, and all of them had something wrong with them. Why is it so hard to find decent accommodation in this city?”

“Yeah, definitely don’t take anything in my old building,” said Belle, with feeling. “You’re looking for something near the university, right?”

“If we can,” said Jasmine glumly. “No luck so far, but I guess it’s early days. Hopefully we’ll get a place before either one of us graduates.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

She began clearing the next table, and Jasmine helped, stacking dirty glasses on a tray. She eyed Belle curiously, dark eyes gleaming.

“So,” she said delicately. “Your ex is in town. How’s that going?”

Belle shrugged, brushing a coil of hair out of her face.

“Well, he’s stepping up,” she said. “He wants full involvement with the baby. He’s giving me everything I could ask for. Even things I wasn’t going to ask for.”

“So that’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” sighed Belle, leaning on the table for a moment. “Yeah, it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m kind of waiting for the punchline.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” She picked up her tray, pushing away from the table and heading for the kitchen. “It’s hard to trust him, you know? I think he’s serious, I really do, but there’s still a part of me that thinks this whole thing is too good to be true.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Although he’s coming over later to talk about healthcare options and child support,” added Belle. “So there’s that.”

“Service for table six,” snapped Ed, shoving a plate containing a large burger and fries at her. “You two talk about your personal lives on your own time.”

Jasmine smiled sweetly at him, grabbing another two plates of chicken from the side, and stuck out her tongue as soon as his back was turned. Belle made her way back into the diner, shoving the kitchen door open with one hip as she passed through.

“How are things with you and Ariel, anyway?” she asked, over her shoulder.

“Oh, really good! I mean apart from the not being able to move in together thing.” Jasmine set down her plates and took a breath, eyes scanning the diner before she strode off towards an empty table with yet another pile of dishes. “Her father’s driving her crazy over her study choices, but she’s holding her ground.”

“Yeah.” Belle chewed her lip as she thought about her own father. “Families, huh?”

She pulled a pad from her pocket to take the order of an old man seated by the window, and returned to the kitchen to hand it over and take out another order. It seemed that there was a brief lull, the customers all eating, and so she wiped down the bar before Ed could come out and accuse her of slacking. She knuckled her back as she stood there, a dull pain already starting to develop. Jasmine began stacking glasses, rolling her shoulders tiredly.

“How did you two leave things?” she asked, and Belle pulled a face.

“I - I kind of got a few things off my chest,” she admitted. “Told him exactly how much he’d hurt me. It actually felt - not good, but at least sort of a relief. I think I needed to do it. I think it helped.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing,” said Belle flatly. “He just stared at me with his usual bloody expressionless face like I was reading a bloody shopping list. I mean yeah, he did try to say something at one point before I cut him off, but I was kind of on a roll, and once I was done - nothing. I have no idea whether he was even listening, but if he was, he didn’t react. The guy should play poker for a living.”

She scrubbed at a sticky patch where someone had spilled hot chocolate, frowning.

“Maybe he has difficulty with emotional stuff,” suggested Jasmine.

“What, like every other guy I’ve ever met?” said Belle, in a wry tone. “Spare me.”

Jasmine smirked.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“Yeah, well,” sighed Belle, leaning on the counter. “As I told him last night, I’m pretty much stuck with him for at least the next eighteen years. Probably longer. Eighteen years of parent-teacher nights and Christmas handovers and agreeing on discipline and boundaries.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” said Jasmine. “Eighteen years gives you a good long period to try and get over him.”

Belle shot her a look.

“I am over him!” she insisted.

“Mhmm.”

“I am!”

Jasmine set the last of the glasses on the shelf, and straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Yeah, you know who really shouldn’t play poker professionally?” she said.

She pointed a finger at Belle before sashaying off to the kitchen, and Belle stared after her in outrage.

“I am!” she called.

x

She caught the bus back after work, but it was still seven-thirty when she returned to the apartment, and her body ached from a day of lifting and carrying. The last thing she felt like was another battle of wits with the father of her child, but she took a quick shower to try to lift some of her tiredness. Gold turned up at eight sharp with a large folder under one arm, while she still had her hair wrapped in a towel, and she took a deep breath, determined to be civil. His eyes were looking darker than usual, his face a little drawn.

“Hey,” she said.

“Belle,” he said calmly, and she put her head to the side.

“You okay? You don’t look so good.”

Gold inhaled through his nose, and there was a sudden flash of what looked like bone-deep weariness etched across his face. It was gone almost immediately as he let out the breath he had taken, and he was his usual impassive self.

“I was awake most of the night,” he said.

“Something on your mind?” she asked. His lips twitched.

“I don’t recommend the Arendelle Hotel, for future reference.”

“Well, not like I could ever afford to stay there, but duly noted.” She stepped back to let him in. “Tea?”

“Please.”

He stepped past her, and she closed the door and followed him through to the kitchen. The bright lights were shining on his hair, highlighting the threads of silver that were running through it. She wondered how long he had been cutting it, whether it had been something he had done the moment she left town, the mark of a new chapter in his life. She wondered how his life had changed since she had left, if at all.

He placed the folder he was carrying on the kitchen table, and shrugged out of his heavy coat, pulling off leather gloves and unwinding the scarf from around his neck. The motion released a rush of scent: spicy cologne and his own musk, and she found herself inhaling deeply before she realised what she was doing. The silk shirt beneath his jacket was dark blue, and her breath hitched as she remembered the last time she had seen him wear it. The time he had driven her to his cabin and spent hours making her come. The first time she had told him she loved him. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and his brow creased a little.

“I could make the tea, if you like,” he said, and she started.

“No no, I was just - I was miles away. Let me do it.”

She could feel her cheeks heat as she crossed to the sink, and she kept her back to him as she filled the kettle and got out cups. By the time the tea was brewing, she was able to face him, and Gold had seated himself at the kitchen table with his jacket off, gold sleeve garters pushed up above his elbows as he tapped his fingers on the folder in front of him. Belle carried the tea things to the table, sliding into a chair opposite him.

“Right,” she said. “What did you bring?”

He opened up the folder, taking out a sheaf of documents and pushing it across the table.

“Forms for the medical insurance,” he said. “If you could fill those out today, I’ll arrange everything.”

“Okay.”

He fished out another document.

“I also need your bank account details, for the child support payments.”

“Weren’t we going to have an agreement drawn up?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said patiently. “But I told you I’d start paying you straight away, remember? The agreement will come, as soon as we’ve hammered out all the terms, but in the meantime I don’t want you to have to go on working all hours.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Would you prefer to be paid weekly or monthly?”

“Uh - monthly, I guess.” Belle looked down at the form, eyes running over it and taking nothing in. “Although - I kind of gave my notice at work, so if we could make it weekly for the first month? Things are gonna be pretty tight otherwise.”

“Understood.”

He reached into the folder again.

“The only other thing I have for tonight is this,” he said, and handed over some glossy booklets from upmarket decorators. “I thought you might want to choose some colours for your new home.”

“Right.” Belle couldn’t help smiling as she started leafing through them. “I don’t mind doing the painting, if you get the colours.”

“I could pay someone, it’s not a problem.”

“No,” she said decidedly, looking up and meeting his eyes. “No, I think I want to do it.”

Gold smiled briefly.

“As you wish.”

She returned the smile, and glanced down at the booklet in front of her, running her eyes over the swatches of colour. Perhaps a lavender tone for the nursery.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asked.

Belle looked up again, and he picked up the teapot and began pouring for both of them.

“Well, I have class in the morning,” she said. “I have a medical appointment at two.”

“And after that?”

She shrugged.

“No more class. I guess I’ll come back here and get some study done. Why?”

Gold put down the teapot, glancing at her.

“Well, I was going to suggest that I take you shopping.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said hastily. “I could get Emma to drive me. I mean, if you’re busy—”

“I’m not,” he interrupted. “We’re already meeting to go to see the doctor, so why don’t we kill two birds with one stone and take a look at nursery furniture afterwards?”

Belle chewed at her lip, and he spread his hands.

“If you’ve picked out colours, we could even get the paint,” he added.

“I’ll need brushes and everything.”

“We can get those too.”

Belle sent him a wry look.

“And you’re ready for this minimalist paradise to be turned into a riot of colour, are you?”

“My house is pink,” he said bluntly.

She giggled at that, surprising herself, and his eyes twinkled for a moment, but then he sat up, threading his fingers together as he met her eyes.

“It’s only a shopping trip, Belle,” he said quietly. “You’ve been dealing with more than enough on your own already. Please, just let me help you.”

Belle took a breath, and nodded.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Good.”

He pushed a cup of tea towards her, and Belle added a little milk and stirred. Gold sat back, watching her over the rim of his cup.

“I saw your father while I was in Storybrooke, by the way,” he said. “I thought I should tell him face to face that I intended to support you and the baby.”

Belle put down her cup, her good mood stealing away again.

“Yeah, I gathered you’d spoken to him,” she said, her tone flat. “Before I called you about the test results, right?”

“What?” He looked puzzled. “No, after. It was actually the call from you that made me think perhaps I ought to speak to him. I - I had no idea he’d cut you off.”

Oh. Well.

“Did you give him this address?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “He told me he’d hear it from you, not me.”

“Right.” She wanted to shrink in her chair a little. “Well, I’ve not heard from him in five months, so I guess he’s not too concerned about my living arrangements.”

“It seems not,” said Gold, in a cold voice. “I did let him know exactly what I thought of that, but I have a feeling it may have had the opposite effect to the one I intended.”

Belle shrugged uncomfortably.

“I doubt it would make much difference either way,” she said. “He told me from the start I should get rid of the baby.”

“Did he now?” Gold’s voice was ominously flat. “Well. Luckily for me, you didn’t agree.”

“Of course not.”

She hung her head a little, still hurt by her father’s rejection, and there was a moment of silence.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he said quietly, and Belle raised her head.

“No, it’s - it’s not your fault,” she said, and his mouth quirked.

“Well, that makes a change.”

She returned the tiny smile, although her lip wobbled a little.

“Try to keep it up,” she said decidedly, and his smile grew.

“I’ll do my best.”

More silence, but it was a little more comfortable. Belle sipped at her tea before setting down her cup and getting a pen to fill out the forms he had given her. Gold sat in silence as she did it, refilling their cups as soon as they were emptied.

“What happens at this appointment tomorrow?” he asked, and she glanced up.

“Oh, nothing major. I get weighed and measured and my blood pressure taken, that kind of thing. It’s probably not very interesting.”

“I still want to go with you,” he said. “I’d like to go to all of them.“

He hesitated, fingers stroking the cup, and his eyes met hers as he seemed to choose his words carefully.

"What are your feelings on me attending the birth?” he asked.

Belle sat back, surprised by his uncertainty.

“Oh,” she said. “I - I guess I just assumed you would. Is that right? Do you not want to?”

“No no, I want to,” he said. “I just wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

She reached for her cup again, cradling it in her hands.

“Well, like I said, it’s your baby too,” she said. That brief smile again.

“Thank you.”

“Plus it means I get to scream and swear at you for hours,” she added. “Probably better than a therapy session.”

Gold’s smile grew.

“Did you say there was an ultrasound?” he asked.

“Oh. Yeah, let me get it.”

She pushed to her feet, going through to the bedroom to take out the envelope she had placed in her nightstand. When she returned to the kitchen, Gold was sitting upright with his elbows on the table and his fingertips tapping together, nervous energy coming off him in waves. She reached into the envelope, pulling out one of the pictures there and handing it over.

“They said I wouldn’t need another one unless anything out of the ordinary happened,” she said. “It’s healthy, no worries there, they said. Everything where it should be.”

Gold had gone very still. He was staring at the photograph she had given him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“It was - kind of weird, seeing the baby for the first time,” she added. “It made it real, you know?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, it’s real.”

His fingers were shaking a little, clutching the edges of the photograph, and she put her head to the side, curiosity building in her. What was he thinking? Was he as overwhelmed as she had been on first seeing the picture of their child? She couldn’t blame him, if so, but she hadn’t expected it.

“You can keep that one,” she said, reaching for her tea again. “They gave me two.”

He glanced up at her, and there was an expression in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Softness, and something that was almost vulnerable. His lower lip trembled a little, but he smiled.

“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT. 

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking. 

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit. 

The writing bit: 

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter. 

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.  

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building. 

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.” 

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??  

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*. 

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM. 

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place. 

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal. 

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.” 

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[baeinette]

The Parade

So I couldn’t stop listening to In A Crowd of Thousands and all I could think of is a one-sided love ChloeBug/LadyBee fic and so here you go. 

This fic is set with the premise that Ladybug never chose the additional heroes/the Bee Miraculous was never lost so she has no idea it’s Chloé behind the mask. 

May upload this to AO3 but haven’t decided yet.

The Parade

Wide eyes were enraptured with the scene unfolding before them. Large displays of color and feats of artistry paraded down the boulevard for the crowd of thousands that stood before them. A heroes day celebration for the true heroes of Paris.

There was Ladybug, standing high above the crowds, waving to all the citizens she protected. A wide smile was on her face that stirred something within Chloé. She couldn’t help the grin that slipped across her features as she stared up at her idol.

What she would do to be noticed by her, be friends with her. To fight alongside her would be out of the question. Ladybug was fierce, kind, graceful, loyal. . . She could spend days describing the being that was Ladybug and still not do her justice.

Ladybug was everything Chloé was not, but that didn’t stop the blonde haired girl from trying. She loved everything that Ladybug did and tried her hardest to be her biggest fan. Being lucky enough to be in her presence the few times she had was amazing, despite the fact that they may have been less than desirable circumstances.

Their eyes met and Chloé felt her chest surge in awe. Deep cerulean met sky blue and for a moment, just a moment, time stopped. The roar of the crowds seemed so far away and it felt like they were the only two in the street. She admired the way that Ladybug’s smile reached her mask, the way the sun highlighted the indigo in her hair.

In a blink, the moment was gone. Chloé was thrown back in the throes of the crowd who were completely oblivious to what had happened. She watched Ladybug’s form disappear farther down the parade and felt part of her go as well.

Chloé made a promise to herself that day. The next time she met Ladybug, it wouldn’t be because of an akuma she caused or something she had done. The next time they met, she wanted it to be because Ladybug wanted to see her and be worthy of it.

~~~

Hey Chloé! I’ll be all finished with the history project tonight so you don’t need to worry!

The soft glow of her phone screen illuminated her face as she read over Sabrina’s text. She glanced over to where her textbook laid unopened and abandoned, her thumbs dancing over the keyboard for a moment before tapping lightly against the screen.

It would be done faster if I was there. I’ll make daddy send me over in a car.

Her thumbs hovered over the screen for a moment, before quickly sending another message.

I want to help.

~~~

A bell chimed as she entered the small establishment. Chloé was bundled up tightly in her coat, not necessarily to keep warm but to try and go unnoticed. The shop was empty except for her and she hovered by the door for a moment before a voice carried across.

“Welcome to Boulangerie Patisserie! How may I-” The voice stopped abruptly. “Chloé?” She took in a deep breath before unfurling herself and strutting over to the counter and meeting Marinette’s confused expression.

“Hello Dupain-Cheng.” She broke eye contact and began eyeing the series of pastries laid out in the display cases before her. “I. . . I need your help with something. . .” The latter expression coming out much quieter than the first,  that Marinette had to make sure she heard right.

“My help?” She brought a finger up to point at herself to make sure she was asking for the right person. Marinette was at a loss for why Chloé would be seeking out her help of all people. “Well. . .what can I help you with?”

Another deep breath in, she fiddled with some of the fur on her coat before looking back at Marinette.

“Can you show me how to make madeleine cookies?”

~~~

The weather was nasty out today which is why Chloé kept her pacing to make it back to Le Grand Paris before it got any worse. Though if this wind threatened to ruin her hair one more time, someone would pay. She jogged the last few meters to the entrance of the hotel, the skies threatening to break open any moment before someone caught her eye. Why would you wear a Hawaiian shirt in Paris in the middle of July?

An older gentleman was struggling against the force of the winds, losing his grip on the bag of groceries he was carrying. Before she could react, the paper bag ripped open, spilling its contents onto the sidewalk. A quick glance around, she saw no one else was nearby to help so she made her way over to assist.

“You really should invest in reusable bags you know. They are much more durable than those flimsy things.” Her hand wrapped around a bottle of tea that she tucked under her arm before picking up a few more items. “Come inside and we can get you something different to put these in.”

“Oh thank you Miss. You are too kind.” The older man held onto what he had managed to not drop and followed her towards the entrance of the hotel. The two entered the lobby and Chloé moved to set the groceries on the front table before hunting for another bag or a box at the main desk.

“Here. This should hold up much better. Plus it looks so much better than a boring brown paper bag.” She returned with a multicolored reusable bag and handed it to the gentleman who took it happily.

“This will be perfect. Thank you again.” He loaded up his groceries, slinging the bag onto his shoulder. He produced an umbrella from the small bag on his back and made his way back towards the entrance. “Have a wonderful day Miss.” Before anything else could be said, he was gone.

Chloé bunched up her brow in confusion with his sudden departure, but shrugged it off. She did her good deed of the day and it was time to relax.

~~~

“Hm?” Chloé eyed the small box that was left on her nightstand. She gingerly picked it up and examined it before turning around and exiting the room.

“Jean! Did you put this in my room?” Her voice echoed in the living room with no response back. She furrowed her brow at the silence before gazing back down at the box. “Well I’m not going to say no to a gift.” She gently lifted the lid before a flash of light erupted.

“What is this!?” She shielded her eyes with a hand until the light dissipated.

Chloé stared down at the box in her hand, a glittering hairpin shining back at her. She barely registered the voice that spoke to her as she processed the object in her hand. With a careful hand, she plucked the object from the box.

“Does. . .does this mean. . .” Her voice hitched slightly, almost afraid to say it.

“Does it mean what my Queen?” The small yellow kwami inquired, her antenna bouncing slightly with the movement. Chloé was startled slightly at the voice, jerking her head up to actually look at the being that had appeared. She had a million thoughts flying through her head at the moment, but found herself only able to verbalize one of them.

“I get to fight alongside Ladybug?”

~~~

Pollen told her that she would be expected at Saint-Jacques Tower at midnight. After several hours of taking in everything that was happening and processing the opportunity that was being presented, Queen Bee found herself at the top of the tower.

She didn’t know what to expect. Was she meeting the entire team? Was she only meeting Ladybug and Chat Noir? The nerves had started to set in on her way over and now they wouldn’t leave.

“Will I be good enough?” Queen Bee turned over the top she had been given in her hand, fingers tracing the black lines. Her legs dangled on either side of the gargoyle structure that jutted out from the roof, and she kicked them slightly with the wind.

Before she could get further lost her in own mind, Queen Bee was alerted to the sound of something landing on the roof. She turned her head towards the direction of the noise and sucked in a breath.

Ladybug stood not even ten feet away from her, retracting her yo-yo and looking back at the new superhero before her. Queen Bee quickly rose to her feet, straightening her posture and dusting off her suit. She felt a soft blush cross her cheeks that she prayed was unnoticeable due to the time of night.

“You must be the new holder of the Bee Miraculous.” Ladybug extended her hand towards the yellow superhero. “I am Ladybug. It’s a pleasure to meet you. . .” She trailed off.

Queen Bee faltered for a second before stepping off the ledge and extended her hand to complete the gesture.

“Q-Queen Bee.” That was the name Pollen had suggested and she liked the ring to it. She did a small bow before releasing the super heroine’s hand. “And the pleasure is all mine Ladybug. I won’t let you down.”