#Or when he literally dropped a bomb that he was going to Paris out of NOWHERE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darthbreezy · 1 year ago

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My Bijou

(Note - this was TRULY a 'Halo Bomb' - It's long and complete... Occasional rough language but that's the worse of it. No Beta, I die like Eric the disposable Demon) ''Fuck Off''

Aziraphale sighed and rubbed his temples as he set his mobile face down on his desk. Although it was better than yesterday, and just seeing the word 'Read' it still stung. Well, at least it meant he was all right. Still angry, but all right. He'd reach out again in a day or two, once he'd taken care of business.

It had been, on reflection, such an unnecessary, petty argument, kindled by frayed nerves, tired vulnerability, and a refusal to see the storm warning signs. From either of them. Aziraphale had already been on edge all day. Crowley had proposed a weekend away - just a change of scenery - to the South of France for a food and wine tour. Despite his halfhearted protest that the only really good crepes were in Paris ( ''Do you really think they don't have crepes in Marseille, Angel?'' Crowley sighed ) he had happily agreed.

It had all gone to Blazes, shortly after. They were relaxing with a glass of Bordeaux, when there came an anxious rapping on the front door of the bookshop.

''Want me to miracle them away, Angel?'' Crowley murmured contentedly, raising his hand to snap his fingers. ''Begone, foul interloper!'' A giggle and a snort as Aziraphale rose quickly (if a little unsteadily) to his feet. ''It's all right dear. I'll take care of it.'' ''Suit yourself...''

Crowley poured himself another glass of wine and leaned back in the chair. He'd sober up in a bit, or at least before they had to leave for the train station, miracle the Bentley down to a nice, conveyable size and be off for a nice, relaxing, wine sodden weekend... ''So we can count on you, Mr. Fell! Wonderous! We'll see you bright and early tomorrow...''

Tomorrow...

With a grunt, Crowley rose and sauntered towards the front door. He didn't like the sound of this.

Aziraphale cast worried look over his shoulder. Before he could speak, the man stuck his hand out expectantly. ''Ah, you must be Mt. Fell's business partner! My name is Mr. Brown of Brown's world of Carpets, I'm also the Chairman of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers Association. I just came by to remind Mr. Fell that the Whickber Street Fair -''

''Mr Fell has a prior engagement, I'm afraid...'' Crowley drawled. ''I'm sure the Street Fair will do just fine -''

''Oh no, Mister... Mister...?''

Crowley, eyes unreadable behind his shades, just smiled with teeth that were perhaps a little too sharp. ''I didn't say...''

Mr. Brown took a step back, but pressed on, allowing his hand to drop. ''Mr. Fell committed to filling in for at least three shifts and is in charge of the bakery and sweet auction at four o'clock! Really -''

Aziraphale put a gentle hand on his chest. ''Crowley, please...''

*snap*

Mr. Brown froze, both literally and figuratively mid sentence. Aziraphale sighed. ''That's not what I meant -'' ''So now instead of reporting to Heaven, you report to the carpet bagger?'' Crowley huffed, starting down the steps and heading to the Bentley. ''Welp! Have a lovely time then, Angel!'' ''Wait, Crowley! Where are you going?''

''Not the bloody South of France, obviously!''

''Crowley!''

Crowley stopped and turned on his heel, glowering. ''So much for our 'peaceful existence'! Heaven can't find a suitable replacement for you, so they keep sending... Cherebs... that can barely modulate the pitch level of their voice so the humans can hear them! If the world were run by dogs, well there'd be no problem!''

''That's not fair! They need -''

''Who cares what they need? What about what w- what you need?''

Aziraphale rolled his head back and closed his eyes, He took a deep breath, trying to measure his words carefully. He didn't want to fight, but by the Sweet All Mighty...

''It doesn't matter what...'' He paused. No. That was exactly what Crowley wanted him to say. It would lead to a blow out. ''I don't want to talk about this now,'' he said at last. ''We can talk about it tomorrow, after the auction... '' ''Are you going to miracle up some Battenberg cake, or would you prefer that I pop over to the Left Bank and pick up some crepes?'' Aziraphale felt his patience slip a notch.

Several notches.

''Goodnight... Crowley.'' he said icily. He bit back anything else, not even telling - no - asking Crowley to release Mr. Brown as he went inside. He still trusted Crowley to do the right thing. even if hr couldn't trust his own mouth to say it, even resisting the urge to look outside as the Bentley pulled away. ** Aziraphale had barely made it through the day without breaking. His jaw hurt from forcing a smile all day. A few people asked where his 'Ginger friend' was, and he had smiled and simply said he was away on business, and that was all well and good until someone asked if he was out 'collecting souls'...

What? NO! The question left him shaken. Thankfully, sweet Maggie (the proprietress of 'the Back Room' record shop, and one of Aziraphale's favourite tenants) had appointed herself his personal minder for the day. She had pulled him aside to a quiet area, explained the joke about redheads collecting souls, and when he still couldn't quite pull himself together, she brought him a cup of tea and some lady fingers. She admonished him to stay sat until she personally came to collect him. Relieved to be even be temporarily freed from responsibility, he agreed. He even allowed her to take away his mobile with minimal protest. At evening's end, all he wanted to do was sequester himself away in the bookshop, but once again Maggie was having none of it.

''Three Ladyfingers is not enough to sustain you, Mr. Fell!'' she scolded. ''And a cheese butty in the bookshop? I don't think so!''

He smiled a little, not having the heart to tell her that food was far from a necessity for him but perhaps the company would be welcome, after all. ''All right then...''

''...And you can tell me all about it!''

''About what?'' ''The fight you had with your partner!'' Maggie exclaimed, taking his arm. ''My own love life may be on the skids, but I can at least lend a good ear...'' ''I'm quite sure I have no idea what you mean, Maggie,' Aziraphale protested weakly. ''Crowley and I had... a misunderstanding. And really, he's just a very old friend.'' never wants to play by the rules

A beat as they stopped on the stairs to Maggie's flat.

''And a bloody stone headed old serpent!'' he spat. ''Speeding along with that damned bee-bop! Never plays by the rules and gets me tied up in knots because he can't take the simplest of answers! And... And...'' He slumped against the wall, wishing with all his heart he could *snap* a time freeze like... he could, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Maggie tentatively put what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder. She didn't want to invade his space but she ached for him. ''Mr. Fell?''

After a moment, Aziraphale drew himself back up to his full height, and offered a wan smile. ''I'm all right, dear girl... Just having a moment. I think i'll go back to the bookshop after all, though. Order some take-away a bit later...'' ''If you're sure...'' she was still doubtful. ''Absolutely! Trust that Crowley will saunter back over when he's ready, and feels he's made his point.'' He smiled more broadly, even though the words felt hollow to his own ears and fairly raced to the bookshop. He wanted to be alone to think.

The next day, he'd sent out a text. Can we talk?

Silence. Left on read.

Fine. He had... A Plan, anyway. A day or two to put it in place had been fine, anyway. And now, today. He had sent an apology and received the two word reply. Right. Aziraphale had hoped - planned actually - to present his gift over dinner. It had taken weeks of careful planning and (he shuddered inwardly) paperwork but it was ready. And now this. He sighed. Right.

He'd allow Crowley to wallow for two more days - three at the outside - and then he would leave a voicemail. With the threat to come collect him in person. Even Angels had a limit in patience. ** Aziraphale had reached his end. His tea had gone cold, and he knew that taking the time to brew up another one was just delaying the inevitable. He picked up his shop phone and dialled the land-line number to Crowley's flat from memory.

Two rings in, the old fashion answering machine kicked in.

"This is Anthony Crowley you know what to do. Do it with style..."

''Crowley, I know you can hear me, Listen, I've had QUITE Enough! Meet me at the Bench in St, James Park. 2 o'clock. at 2:15. I'll miracle a taxi stand next to the Bentley!''

A frantic clicking as the receiver was picked up. ''Angel! You wouldn't DARE -''

''A BUS STOP! 2 o'clock, Crowley!'' He slammed the phone down without another word. Whether it was for his benefit or Crowley's, well. he didn't want to examine that too closely.

Right.

Another cup of tea then, and when his shop telephone didn't ring, Aziraphale felt nothing but relief.

Ir was only a 20 minute walk from his shop to St James Park, but given the weather (miserable and wet) and his increasing worry that Crowley might change his mind and just not show, trusting that the taxi-stand/bus stop was an empty threat (it was) he left the shop around noon. He carried a tartan brolly, and a cream coloured messenger bag which he held with an iron grip and no small amount of protective miracles around it. In effect, the bag carried his very heart, and there was only one being he would surrender it to. If he would have it... **

Crowley had sprawled across the bench.

The dry bench. As if the rain had not dared land on him if it had known what was good for it. He had been in a foul mood all week. Another one of his own potential replacements had stood in the middle of the round about in Marble Arch, trying to terrorise the number 7 bus to Oxford Circus and had promptly been discorporated. Hell was definitely not sending its best and brightest, yet he was getting the blame. He had just wanted a little time. A moment of peaceful existence, even if it was desperately brief. He just wanted to feel safe with his Angel... They had averted Armageddon. She owed them that much. ''Load of great, greasy dangling BOLLOCKS!'' he snarled at the uncaring sky. ''I'm so used to you shitting on me, I should have a garden that rivals the one you chased those kids out of just for being a little peckish!''

He threw his head back, looking for all intents like a puppet with its strings cut. All sound and fury, spent.

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts. Really Crowley, if you want to play at being dramatic...'' ''Was that one of his, or another one he nicked from someone else?'' Crowley asked, deliberately not turning his head to look at Aziraphale, standing on the path a few feet away. ''Thus we play the fool with the time and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. That one WAS one of his, wasn't it?''

''Crowley...'' Soft. Supplicating.

''I'm here, aren't I?'' he snapped back. ''Why don't you bore me with all the little details of your little party, I'll pretend to listen and to care, then we'll bugger off to lunch like this never happened.'' He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. ''I'll even forgo the 'I was wrong dance', my treat,''

''No...''

''No?'' Now Crowley looked wary. Defensive. He seemed to recoil, but not to strike, but to flee.

Aziraphale's heart broke a little. ''Please... can we go somewhere that's not... wet? I promise this won't take long.'' ''Fine!'' Crowley sniffed and cocked his head towards the spring bandstand that had been set up for concerts. ''Will that do?''

''Could use a table and a couple chairs...'' Aziraphale mused, walking a few steps behind. ''I had actually rather we'd have done this someplace a little more comfortable - ''

*snap* A table covered in white linen and two chairs more suited to a French Patisserie than a rainy London summer's day appeared in the centre of the bandstand.

''How about flowers? And candles? Really set the scene!''

*snap*

Garlands of fiercely orange marigolds nearly overwhelmed the rafters and the floor. Red candles burned bright and angry...

Aziraphale released a long slow breath, and snapped his own fingers. The garlands vanished, as did the candles. In their place, a single lam hung from the centre rafter, and two stands of white tulips book-ended the chair.

''Fine...'' Crowley grunted as he unceremoniously flopped into the chair. He flicked a bloomed carelessly. ''Can we get this over with? I have an appointment with several bottles of 2018 Chateau Petrus...''

''Fine,'' Aziraphale huffed setting the bag on the table. ''I had hoped to do this in a... more idealistic setting... but...''

At last, Crowley removed his glasses, puzzling over the assortment pf papers the angel placed before him. Some were marked Land Registry Offices various to the United Kingdom, the City of London, the Borough of SoHo. Human property paperwork regarding the Book-shop on Whickber Street,

'I've been focusing so much on what's good, I've been neglecting to do what's right'' Aziraphale stumbled through as Crowley wordlessly went through the papers. ''You've spent so many years... ages perhaps... Protecting me. I realised that it was far past time that I returned the favour...''

Some were obviously memos to Heaven, oddly. Back dated to 1941

''Look closer,'' Aziraphale implored, colour rising in his cheeks. ''The Borough papers were easy... Naming 'Mr. A. J. Crowley' as the 'and company' was a simple matter of a few strokes of a pen. As for the office upstairs - I simply altered some forms, and hid them in with some old memos that needed to be back filed away upstairs. The scriveners won't care...'' he laughed nervously. ''It'll be just like old times - the old arrangement. Just memos to the head offices...''

''But Angel,'' said Crowley softly. ''Why?''

''To protect you, silly!'' Aziraphale's eyes sparkled. ''Don't you see? With your name on the official paperwork, in both human bureaucracy and Heavens, it's yours. Your haven! Even if I'm not there for... whatever reason... you my... my friend, have a place where no one can touch you! For ALWAYS!''

Crowley sat in silence, overwhelmed, After a minute, he choked, ''Angel... I...I...''

Aziraphale beamed. At last, things were right with their world again.

''Come on, dear,'' he murmured softly. ''Lets go Home...''

You and me We are destined you'll agree To spend the rest of our lives with each other The rest of our days like two lovers For ever, yeah For ever My bijou - Queen

#fanfic #aziraphale #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands

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friendfromdsmp · 1 year ago

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I think you can make it work if Adrien learning Monarch’s identity doesn’t happen in the final battle against Monarch. You can still have him find out during a battle, if you want; maybe he makes the connection due to some small detail or a quote he’s heard a million times before. Maybe Monarch drops the bomb in order to escape when he’s too weak to continue fighting and needs to stall Chat long enough to flee. Have it cause Chat to freeze up, have Ladybug go to chase a fleeing Monarch only to realise she needs to prioritise her kitty because something has just happened

While Monarch’s making a physical recovery, thus leaving him unable to create akumas for the time being, give Chat the time to make an attempt at processing some of this. Maybe even have him reveal his identity to Ladybug and hand over his Miraculous because he doesn’t think he can fight his father. Ladybug is upset by this, but understands, and promises Adrien that she won’t let him down

Bug Noire goes into battle, now knowing Monarch’s identity, and catches him off-guard. They fight, Bug Noire is about to lose, but then just as things seem their darkest we have Adrien, in civilian form, show up to confront his father, maybe also dealing an unanticipated blow that gives Bug Noire the chance to tie him up and seize his Miraculous. Like, imagine Bug Noire is pinned and weak, eyes wide in horror as she realises she can’t do this alone, and Adrien takes the W with a steel chair, then speaks his mind to his disarmed and tied up father who would have a killer concussion right now if it weren’t for magical armour

Adrien gets to confront Gabriel without the risk of his emotions being turned against him, Bug Noire divides back into Ladybug and hands Adrien his ring back so Gabriel can see he was fighting his son all along, suddenly it all clicks into place for him and he starts to have a change of heart (ish)

And while Adrien says his peace, Ladybug is calling the police and then realises that, between her Creation powers, which can literally create any object she desires so long as she imagines it, and Nooroo’s links to the essence of akumas, which is what makes the Magical Charms work, they can come up with a way to heal Gabriel and Nathalie. They could even call in Felix and ask for Duusu’s help if needed

Gabriel and Nathalie go to prison for their crimes. Amelie moves into the Agreste Manor in order to keep the house’s affairs in order and look after Adrien (Felix seems to be effing off to Paris on a whim pretty consistently lately anyway so she might as well) and Adrien still gets to visit the two recovering jailbirds and fully come to terms with things over time. He learns about being a sentimonster and is able to hold them accountable for it. He learns about the intended wish and is able to process it how he desires. Adrien is also in control of when, or even if, he visits, and for how long. For once, Adrien’s choice is the only one that matters

Honestly I think my take on the "Chat Noir was not there in the final battle" comes down to the fact that I kind of just don't think a satisfying final battle between Chat Noir and Monarch was actually possible.

I read a lot of fic, for example, and I've read the scenario play out a lot of times in a ton of ways and I've never been fully convinced of it tbh (and not because they weren't great fic!!). It seems just completely traumatic for Adrien in a way that the scenario inherently cannot properly focus on, because it's all happening in the middle of an action scene and Adrien is too busy being Mid-Battle to properly have a cathartic breakdown about it all. I mean, Chat Blanc already showed us what would happen if he did have a breakdown mid-battle (and why wouldn't he?). And though it'd be fun to have a big triumphant moment of him defeating his abusive father, Adrien simply isn't a character who would find that scenario triumphant, or cathartic, or anything other than viscerally traumatic.

Also, I agree that it's unfair that Chat Noir was not present— like it was unfairly tilted in Ladybug's favor— but I don't think it'd be fair if he was present, either. Because Marinette is, in fact, the main character. The main character whose character arc is primarily focused on her finding her footing as a hero and discovering all the responsibilities that come with that power (as opposed to Adrien, whose character arc is moreso about freedom and identity). And let's face it, in a fight between Ladybug and Chat Noir and Monarch, nobody would be focused on Ladybug at all. It's not about her. It's not her fight. She'd just be there as moral support and an extra set of hands, which really doesn't work for her character arc at all and is completely unfair to her!

Basically, it would just be Chat Noir temporarily acting as the main character and having the worst time of his life in the most un-cathartic battle for him possible left completely traumatized with Ladybug in the background awkwardly trying to comfort him after the fact? And then the season ends? And then the next season presumably goes back to Ladybug being the main character? After a time-skip to the new school year? It's just an ending that I feel like is a lot better in theory than actually on paper. And you can probably make an argument for ways that it could be made to work, where it would enhance Ladybug's story in a meaningful way where she still feels like the main character, and would somehow be triumphant for Chat Noir despite it probably being the worst moment of his life, and somehow not make the rest of the series following feel like bonus content as opposed to a continuation of the story...... but, I dunno. I think it's a lot easier said than done.

The fact of the matter is, I've always been waaayyyy more interested in how the aftermath of Gabriel's defeat affects Adrien than the battle itself. Post-Hawkmoth defeat is one of my favorite types of fic for a reason, and it's because the aftermath can be so juicy, especially for Adrien as a character. I think whether or not Adrien is actually there in the battle itself has always been kind of irrelevant to me, because no matter how Gabriel is defeated, his defeat will have immense repercussions on Adrien's life going forward. And the way they did it, Marinette is now a part of it in a more active way, too. Which is good for her character!

( Also, if he was there to triumphantly defeat Gabriel, would that mean he would just.... watch his father die? of cataclysm? a-and.... nathalie would just.... die, too? so he'd have three dead parents after all that? who he watched all die (or, in emilie's case, saw her corpse)? or is this a scenario where MONARCH BEATS CHAT NOIR and still makes the wish? is that cathartic? for Adrien to lose to Gabriel? Frankly, I loved seeing Gimmi and The Wish, it's been teased for so long that I was expecting it, and I loved the fact that Nathalie got to live as her narrative reward for coming to her senses and trying to murder Gabriel with a crossbow. I like that we got to watch a full season of Gabriel painfully dying to a cataclysm— poetically inflicted on him by Adrien, but of Gabriel's own doing. I like that Nathalie has presumably adopted Adrien after having an arc of her trying to be a parent to him once she realized nobody else would, that's so much more interesting than any other alternative. I just don't see how all of these things, some of my favorite things that season 5 gave, can still all exist at once with Chat Noir present in the final battle in any way that's satisfying. )

#ml s5 spoilers #ml re-creation #ml recreation #re-creation spoilers #recreation spoilers #miraculous ladybug #ml ladybug #mlb #miraculous #adrien agreste

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quackisinnit · 4 years ago

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Men in Black au! with Dream, George, Sapnap, Karl, Quackity, c!Technoblade, and Wilbur

Notes: this is for 900 clebration:)) THIS IS SO LONG DKSHS. also i wrote this cause i watched men in black:international the other day

Genre: fluff, romantic, they/them

Warnings: mentions of guns, bombs

Dream

when you first started working with him, he was very friendly and would teach you anything you needed to know

like where the guns are, etc

but from time to time he would be unintentionally flirty

or just make flirtatious comments (sometimes intentional)

"you look good in a suit y/n😌"

"i always wear a suit but thank you"

everytime you hugged or shaked hands after a succesful mission, his touch would always linger

like he would hug you for much longer than anticipated

it would make you flustered but you just brushed it off

soon dream made flirty comments all the time

like all the time

you both layed down on the ground and took deep breaths, that alien was terrifying. "you know, you looked good whole fighting that thing earlier."

"what?"

"nothing."

this kept on going until you (sorta) catched on to what he was doing

"clay, do you like me?" you said out of the blue. "what? no- our relationship is strictly professional and platonic."

yeah you didn't believe him

and he didn't himself

but then again, he said it himself,

he doesn't like you, right?

okay maybe a little bit

he finally confessed when he thought it the was the end for both of you

the alien threw you against the wall, roaring loudly. it ringed through your ears, causing you to yelp. the alien grabbes clay with its other hand and raised him above its mouth.

"y/n since this is the end," clay yelled, "i want you to know that i like you! a lot!"

you looked at him shocked, you opened your mouth to say something but the creature's scream of pain cut you off. your other colleagues had come to save the both of you.

you both watched as they brought the alien back to where it came from.

"so, you like me?"

"uh, yeah. i really, really do."

"good, cause i feel the same." you smile and kiss clay's cheek.

George

he would act very prim and proper

and he'd want you to act the same

he would do little things like fixing your tie, fixing your hair, etc

but on missions he would be very rowdy and make bad decisions from time to time but still calm

"y/n, let's drink with them!"

"but what if the-"

"i heard a yes, let's go."

but then the bad guys showed up

"i told you they'd come!" you said with a slightly panicky voice.

"don't worry, the alien is safe and we just need to get out of here. let me think of a plan."

and boom with george's calmness and smartness you survived😎

but you both got a warning cause you drank on the job-

anyways,

he started acting strange after a few months of working with you

for example, everytime you passed him a weapon his hand would rouch yours

and he would just blush and continue what he was doing

you wouldn't really notice tho since he was subtle with it

george finally confessed after a mission

"get yourselves cleaned up at the headquarters."

"yes ma'am." you both said synchronously. once you were both back at the headquarters, george tapped your shoulder. "uh- so i really like you, can we go on a date?"

you just looked at him, not saying a word. george started to feel more nervous, thinking he did something wrong. "it's fine if you don't want to, i understa-"

"no no no no george, i wanna go on a date with you." george just smiles and grabs your hand, caressing it.

Sapnap

as soon as you became partners, you both got really close a your personalities just matched

anyways, every mission crazy and very chaotic

sapnap cracks jokes all the time

"oh my god, is this alien pussy??"

"sapnap... I THINK SO!!"

its so fun working with him

at the start of your relationship, he made flirty comments here and there

but the longer you both knew eachother, he made flirty comments all the time, like dream

"sooooooo has anyone told you how hot you were earlier?"

"i mean- no? we literally almost got eaten alive"

"well since no one's said it, you looked pretty hot earlier"

for some reason he likes saying those comments everytime your both about to die

or when the situation is just bad

"hey you look pretty attractive right now..."

"SAPNAP SHUT UP AND GIVE ME THE GUN, WE'RE GONNA DIE??!??!?!"

"WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS NOW SAPNAP"

but when he confessed it was during a normal time

you were both talking about a mission you had to do in a few days

and sapnap just blurted it out

"okay so we have to be in paris next week. i think we should ask-"

"i like you y/n. a lot, with my whole heart" you smiled, "i like you too." sapnap smiled and and leaned in, "can i kiss you?" you just nod and bring him closer to your chest.

Karl

people called you and karl childish and immature during work

but in reality he just made lots of jokes and you both laughed easily💀💀

missions with karl are very fun

fun but at the same time serious

like he thinks very quickly

so if your ever in danger, karl will be there to help

but after you both make jokes directed at each other

"you were the one that dropped the bomb"

"you would've died if i didn't save you🙄"

but its all light hearted and you care for each other

anyways he started to act more serious and calm around you

sometimes nervous

like after every mission you hug

and everytime you both do it you could just feel karl's heart beating so fast

"karl are you alright? you're heart is beating really fast"

"oh uh- yeah. just shocked from the mission and all"

he would also ask you if you're hurt/okay way more

"oh god y/n, are you alright?"

"yeah it's just a scratch"

"okay, if you're hurt just tell me"

he confessed while you were both undercover during a mission

you both sat in the cafe, eyeing the alien that disguised itself as a human. "psst, y/n."

"what is it?" you say, not taking your eyes off the creature. "i like you." karl says quietly. as if he was a kid whispering a secret. for the first time, you take your eyes off the alien.

you look at him, mouth agape. you smirk and chuckle, "so do i." karl smiles and starts giggling, you reciprocate this. "now let's go back to- WAIT WHERE ARE THEY?"

Quackity

chaotic but at the same time quiet duo

during missions its crazy and some times gets out of hand

but at the headquarters/office, you're both very proper and organized

its just so that you both get assigned into more missions together tbh KSHSJ

missions with him is just

*chefs kiss*

one time you were both fighting the alien and somehow he convinced them for a break?????

"HEY WAIT WAIT. i have to piss, let's take a break"

alien: "piss? break?"

"i have to pee."

and the alien just agreed!?!??????!?!

SO YOU JUST STOOD THERE, WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK

AND THE ALIEN JUST SAT ON THE GROUND

fortunately, he came back quickly

"okay, i'm back, let's do this😎"

in the end you both won

cause he's alex quackity, what do you expect?

soon he started to act very nervous at random occasions

like you were both just talking about a recent mission you both just done

and you complimented him on defeating the alien

"that was so cool alex!!"

and he just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ "thank you y/n"

HE'S JUST SO FLUSTERED KSJSK

and it's not like your first time complimenting him

he just started acting like this out of nowhere

he confessed while you were doing a mission

you were in the passenger's seat, holding onto dear life. "alex, slow down!" he just glances at you in disbelief. "slow down? we're gonna die if i do slow down!"

after a few turns, you reached a long road with a fiver at the end. alex looked aroud to find another road for you to go on to avoid drowning. unfortunately, there was none.

the buttons that cotrolled the car currently weren't working. so you kept on pushing them. "y/n, before we die, i wanna say something!"

"we're not gonna di- oh nevermind, what is it?" you yelled. "i like you!"

all you could do was to push the buttons more aggresively, hoping to get out alive. to your surprise, the car started to float of the ground.

once you had both reached the sky, you both started clapping and cheering. "lets go!"

"we did it y/n holy shit"

"so... you like me?"

"what? no, i didn't say that. what do you me-"

"its fine alex. i like you too"

Technoblade

he would be quiet and professional

also a little intimidating

like on your first mission he did almost all the work

and in a way you were kinda his assistant

at first you thought this was how missions worked

1 leader and 1 follower/assistant

but then you talked to your colleagues about your missions with him and they told you it was meant to be 2 partners, not leader and assistant

so you confronted techno about this

which left him a little surprised

cause he was the one supposed to confront people, not the other way around

this made him intrigued about you

so techno spent more time with you to learn more about you

which caused the both of you to get closer

when people saw this, they were really confused

cause he was so soft, caring, and nice around but around them he was cold and intimidating

but then techno started to act very flustered and nervous around you

he tried to hide it, but failed

like you would just be talking to him and he would just randomly act flustered

"okay so since he's in [street name], we should turn left to catch up." you said while holding onto the steering wheel. "uh huh..." techno just looked at you, not saying a word.

"techno? are you listening?"

"oh- uhm. yeah, sorry." he said as he opened the sunroof and got out his gun.

this kept happening so you decided to confront him about it

(the same way you first confronted him)

"techno, are you alright? everytime we're in a mission or just talking you seem really out of it"

"i'm fine, just tired."

which isnt true?? his whole brand was like staying up and still having enough energy for a mission

so you were suspicious but didnt think much of it

he confessed while you were at a diner talking about an upcoming mission

you drank some water and cleared your throat. "do you think we need a disguise?"

"uhm, i think we need to..."

"need to?" you waited for his answer. "i like you." he blurted out, looking down at the ground tp avoideye contact. all you could was smile, "i like you too techno, a lot."

technoblade looked back up to you slowly with a small smile but with a shocked expression. you cup his cheek from across the table and caress it, smiling.

Wilbur

he would be a combination of george and dream

prim, proper, and friendly

missions with him would be fun but still professional

he'd crack jokes all the time but at the same time he can finish the mission

idk why but for some reason he loves timing himself during missions

"aye y/n, we got 3 days and 7 hours! not as good as last time but still alright"

"wilbur why do you even keep track-"

anyways

all of a sudden, he started to be more messy during missions out of nowhere

like instead of having everything in control, everything would be out of place

one time you both almost let the alien escape

"wil are you alright? you've been a little off lately." he rubbed the back of his neck, "yeah, i'm fine, completely fine."

you were worried so from time to time you would ask him if he was alright

and he would always answer with the same thing

"i'm fine, y/n. don't worry about me"

or something along those lines

he confessed during an argument

"wil we could've died! we and many people could've died." wilbur paced around the room, rubbing his neck and running his hand through his hair from time to time.

"i know, i know."

"if you know then why did you do that?" you said, raising your voice. "because-"

"beacuse what wilbur? you're feeling a little tired but you're fine? wil please tell me what's goin-" you were yelling and your eyes started to become moist. "because i like you, y/n. so so much."

he cupped your face with both of his hands as his eyes began to moist as well. "i-i like you too wilbur." was all you managed to choke out. "but please be more careful. you promise?" wilbur placed his forehead on yours, "i promise."

552 notes · View notes

marky4l · 3 years ago

Text

without warning / ldh

pairing: Lee Haechan x fem!Reader

There is always a certain breaking point to a habit. For you, it was Haechan and not falling in love. It just happened in the most unorthodox way.

word count: 8.6k

genre: college au, fluff, angst (a little bit)

notes: reader is besties w nomin :)

hi!!! a bit overdue, but happy birthday haechan! also my photoshop crashed so please bear with the banner until i can make one that i enjoy seeing lol hopefully its okay :) ! I hope you like it pleaase leave feedback!

—

You like to pride yourself on the fact that you’ve never played into the mushy love bullshit.

You’re a stark contrast from your best friends, Jeno Lee and Jaemin Na, who, when boiled down to it, are basically a married couple who love to employ plausible deniability. They’re constantly teaming up to tease you/comfort you/set you up on god awful blind dates, and they’re self-proclaimed hopeless romantics. Which means there’s virtually no room for your anti-romantic philosophies in the apartment you share.

No, literally. Your DVDs are all romcoms. Your Netflix list is all Nancy Meyers. Your library is all cheesy romance volumes, overshadowing your preferred type of literature. It’s living hell.

“Are you ready for a date draw?”

“There’s Craig Cruz from my Bio class, Matt Lennox who’s my TA, Brad Aoki from my Spanish elective, Rex Smith from debate club, aaaand Lucas Wong from my football team.” Jeno offers the names to you, and before you can even form a coherent response, Jaemin is quick to follow up.

“Oh, have I got a roster for you. Nathan Davis from Physics, Charles Bass from my golf club, Jason Rodriguez from Creative Writing, and my mentor’s son’s best friend, Mark Lee. He studies in California.”

Jeno and Jaemin have long arranged date draws for you: a night where you pick out the blind date of your dreams, based on their extensive CVs, handpicked by your depressingly single best friends. (Any/every girl they manage to charm is scared off by how early they drop the L bomb.)

From your place propped up on the sofa, you hum contemplatively. Clearly, the two guys are nervous and stressed to see whose recommendation you’re going to pick: it’s always like this on date draw night, because it’s become somewhat of a competition between them to see who’s going to find your soulmate. Half the guys they recommend suck, and the other half, just a little less.

You spoon Chunky Monkey into your mouth. “Moving on to the next round: Lennox, Wong, Bass, Lee. Two even.”

You can’t deny the way you enjoy these biweekly nights of picking out your next date, even if the results are usually poor. They buy you ice cream and popcorn and let you watch something that doesn’t revolve around a couple falling in love in the Midwest/Paris/New York City (you’ve had enough of it.)

You hear noises of triumph as they quickly crumple up the paper resumes they have on your rejections. “Let me hear about Bass first.” Jaemin lets out a small yes! as he pulls up his file on Bass, reading aloud from it.

“Rich, golfer, business major. His philanthropy involves animals, cute baby animals, and he wants to run for mayor of New York one day. Rundown of pros and cons—rich, owns houses in Europe, but we have an unclear visual on his political stance.”

“Does he wear suits and talk like a douche?”

Jaemin’s silence is affirmative, so you follow it up. “Who’s his role model?”

“…Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos. Said it himself on his Facebook biography.”

You gasp.

“God, Jaemin! You can’t just leave that out! What if I picked him?!” You heave a spoonful of Chunky Monkey again. “Gross. Bass, out. Jeno, you’re up.” Jaemin groans, crumpling Charles’ paper and catapulting it into the garbage across the room.

Jeno speaks up, elated. “I’ve got Mark Lee for you. My writing mentor’s son’s best friend. He’s a church guy, but I hear through the vine he’s freaky in the sheets”—at this, you audibly gag and remove your ring to chuck it at him—“and he’s super ambitious. Wants to become a writer, settle down in the city with kids. Voted for Biden, but dislikes Biden—that whole shindig. Con: Soundcloud rapper.”

“Sounds okay,” you grimace, attempting to ignore the last bit, “but is he willing to do this long distance thing? Opposite ends of the country?”

“I was thinking it might be ideal,” Jeno explains. “So you don’t have to face the clinginess all the time.”

“So he’s clingy,” you deadpan. You allow no room for explanation and wave him off. “Jaem, go.”

“Damn it,” curses Jeno under his breath, frustrated. Jaemin is quick to remedy his previous mistake, fast in his talking.

“Lucas Wong, basketball star. 6’0, born in Hong Kong, knows how to cook. Con: kind of a man whore.”

“I don’t slut shame,” you respond, intrigued. “Go on.”

Triumphant, he proceeds. “He’s delicious, man. I mean, I’m saying this so honestly right now. He’s also super caring, a Chem Engineering major, and constantly shares his decent political opinions online.”

You sit up. “Oh, my God. He’s perfect.”

“Right?!” Jaemin’s smile is wide and he’s so, so close to reaching his victory. It’s cut off rudely by Jeno’s knowing scoff.

“Please. Jaem, tell her the real con.”

“Real con?” You quirk a brow, your head cocking to the side. “Jaemin Na, what is the real con?”

He falters, spluttering. “It’s—it’s nothing. A minor setback.”

You spoon the last of your Ben & Jerry’s into your mouth. “Now, Jaemin!”

“He has a girlfriend,” he says fretfully, refusing to meet your sharp gaze. At this, you burst into a loud yell, throwing your hands up in the air. “What the hell, Jaem?! Second straw much?”

He hides his face from view, but you persist. “Jaemin! You were going to turn me into a homewrecker, you enabler! You should be asha—”

“Tell ‘em,” Jeno says with a scornful smile. You turn on him immediately, though, eyes fiery.

“Oh, like you didn’t know and chose to use it against him so you could win today’s date draw. You make me sick! Both of you. The next five date draws are cancelled.”

The words are uttered with a vile, ugly tone that sends your best friends into a downward spiral. It’s evident immediately, what with the way their faces fall instantly and Jeno’s is the epitome of the world flummoxed. They quickly turn to each other, vexation in their eyes as they begin to swat at each other.

Being of similar height, the swatting quickly intensifies, but Jeno’s tendency to poorly control his strength results in Jaemin hitting back twice as hard.

“—I was gonna remedy that before you ruined i—” Poke.

“How do you remedy an ongoing, committed relationship—?” Hit.

“I have my ways, Lee!” Swat.

“If you just let me get to my final recommendation I would’ve won, Na!” Slap, smack, strike.

You tsk disdainfully, walking away to dispose of your Chunky Monkey. Considering the kitchen isn’t too far from the living room, your ears quickly pick up on the progression of their fight: you hear more chaos, then it fades away. It takes you five minutes to drink a glass of water and wash your spoon, and when you return, they’re cuddled up to each other on the sofa watching Me Before You.

“Insane,” you mutter dismissively.

“No non-romance for you,” says Jeno, through a mouthful of popcorn. “Rejecting our picks.”

“That’s the angle you took? 2 versus 1? Instead of you and I teaming up against Jaemin for condoning homewrecking?”

He ignores you.

But you’re blissfully unaware that the events of tonight would lead to you meeting the guy who would reach far beyond the standard set by Lucas Wong, your one that got away, so you shut your bedroom door behind you and work instead.

—

Jeno and Jaemin’s cardinal rule when it comes to date draws is to not interact with any male presence in a flirtatious matter for at least a week to purge yourself of any potential matches, so that you can fully immerse yourself in the experience.

Knowing date draws happen every two weeks, this allows you only one week to fully appreciate any cute stranger in your life. Knowing that, this basically declines your flirting skills to a good 6. You’re well aware of the pretty privilege card you hold, so it’s all you have, because your smooth talking skills have well diminished.

So here you are, perched on a bench, staring at the opposite one intently. Sat on it is a tall, and handsome guy reading—oh, God—Arendt?

The grip you have on your Journalism supplementary book turns your knuckles white, your mind struggling to think of something to say. You curse under your breath as your body gets up on its own accord, your body walking to him and offering a stuffy smile.

“Hello,” you giggle, breathy.

“Hi,” he says, and you melt inside. He must be some sort of dreamboat.

You take a seat beside him, hesitant but spurred on by his smile. You introduce yourself quickly, and he tells you his name is Hyunjin, and that he’s a Humanities major. You sit in tense, but comfortable silence, intermittent smiles and hums of affirmation filling the void of the conversation.

“Are you a fan of Aren—”

“You’re hot,” you say in one breath. What the hell.

“Oh,” says Hyunjin dumbly. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome. You are. So gorgeous.”

He smiles, politely now instead of warmly, and makes up a shit excuse to save himself, walking away quickly. You groan inwardly at your mishap, slamming your textbook against your forehead in frustration.

This is one of many reasons you detest date draws.

—

You make your anger clear to Jeno and Jaemin by refusing to cook them Friday dinner. All of you can cook fairly well, but perhaps because of your natural affinity with a cookbook, you’re magical at it. So, every Friday is reserved for your amazing cuisine and the rest of the week is devoted to takeout and the others’ subpar cooking skills.

“You promised you’d cook us bibimbap,” gripes Jaemin. “Jeno and I miss home. How do you expect us to survive in a city populated by white people?!”

“Well, find a Korean restaurant and order a bowl for yourselves,” you say cuttingly. “I’m still upset over the entire date draw catastrophe from two days ago. I tried flirting with a cute guy today and, thanks to your cardinal rule, failed.”

“But you make good bibimbap,” sobs Jeno theatrically, ignoring the latter part of your sentiment.

You narrow your eyes and swat them both with your textbook. “I’m dying alone with my eggs shriveled up, and I want you both to know it’s all your fault.”

You tell them the full tale of your foiled coquetry from earlier that day, and they stifle guffaws behind their clenched fists. You hit them again, for good measure.

“You love us.”

“I hate you,” you say sharply.

—

“I love you guys. I’m serious,” you say delightedly, scooping more frozen yogurt into your mouth. You’re spending your Saturday in the Upper West, shifting through ice cream parlors and corner cafes and halal delis and watching Jeno show off his skateboarding skills. You’d stopped at a small frozen yogurt joint where you found the cups to be way too overpriced, and upon your defeat, instead found that an extended February 14 promo meant a couple gets one cup for free.

The plan was crafted ingeniously: you and Jeno would hug subtly to show that you were a couple, playing into the heteronormative bias of the cashier, and get two cups with unlimited toppings for the price of one.

However, in the middle of your planning, the shifts changed and the new cashier found Jaemin and Jeno to appear more lovey-dovey, revising the plan on the spot.

“Very cute. Love is love,” the middle-aged woman says. Jeno nods, smiling and holding Jaemin closer, despite the poorly disguised grimace on his face. You play along, a stuffy smile on yours.

So it goes that you get one for yourself and the other two fight over theirs, wooden spoons clacking against each other as they fight over the yogurt.

“Love you both, so so much,” you say happily. “So much.”

“Real quick, does this mean date draws are back o—”

“No,” you retort.

“Yeah. That checks.”

You glare at the mere suggestion, averting your attention back to your yogurt. Humiliation still courses through you, blazing your every thought with your fiasco at the park. Hyunjin is probably having a permanent freakout over your foolishness, and in your frantic attempt to pin the blame on somebody other than yourself, the fault falls on your two best friends.

Not even frozen yogurt can help it. But it’s getting there.

—

Your designated bench at the park is yours for a reason. It captures the breeze perfectly, and the sunlight filters just right through the trees overhead. You get a good view of the buildings, and the nearest exit gives you just a ten minute walk to your apartment. Granted, it’s “your bench” from 2PM to 6PM, since any other hour you’re either home or at class.

Yours anyway. Blissfully empty. Except it’s 1:15PM and somebody’s sitting on it.

“Hey—do you mind?” You gesture to the empty side of the bench and the guy sitting waves you off with a polite nod. Smiling calmly, you take a seat and draw out your study materials, getting to work on your latest news piece.

The sun is high and the park gets the brunt of it, heat surging through the walkways. Damn early classes. Now it’s too hot. You pout in mild frustration but continue anyway.

You’re in the middle of typing out your concluding paragraph, and your mind is in the middle of thinking of dinner, froyo, and the ducks at the lake altogether, when your train of thought is tersely cut off.

“Hey, aren’t you the girl who flirted with that guy on that bench? Like, four days ago?”

Fear floods your body and renders you frozen, your head inching bit by bit to face your certified day ruiner. Your eyes land on a guy about your age, nose buried in a Murakami book. He quirks a brow, beguiled by your sudden reaction. “So. Are you?”

Your jaw drops open, mouth spluttering for something logical to say. “Er, yeah.”

He laughs loudly, an unabashed guffaw leaving his mouth. “Woah. That sucked.”

“Did it really?” Your woeful tone catches his attention, his head whipping in your direction.

“Yeah—I mean, I’m not trying to insult you or anything. But I—”

“No, it’s okay,” you muse. “I’m just getting really bad at flirting.” You turn to him, a polite smile on your lips.

He smiles back. “Hyunjin’s an acquaintance of mine, you know. If you want another chance. He liked you.”

Your heart beats impossibly fast. Dangling in front of you is your chance at redemption, a date, possibly getting laid, and above all, proving to Jeno and Jaemin that you do not need their godforsaken date draws to find love.

You’re halfway through this epiphany when you realize—

“Who are you?” You blurt out, confused. “Sorry. I mean, what’s your name? I just met you and it feels like you already know me.”

“That’s ‘cause I do—I mean, when you flirted with Hyunjin, I was just over there”—he points at a nearby bench—“and then after it happened, I just saw your name being dropped on the groupchat.”

“I was made into groupchat material,” you fret. “That’s like, the worst of the worst.”

“Not really—it was talked about for five minutes tops and then somebody mentioned a deadline, so. I’m Haechan, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say simply. “Well, I’m glad that’s over. I was just. It sucked.”

“Sucked is an understatement,” says Haechan through gritted teeth. “Anyway, if you want a second date, I’d be happy to arrange that.”

You bite your lip, weighing the pros and cons in your head. You could earn yourself a new boyfriend and turn the flirting affliction into a meet cute story, but it could also go to shit. You could get laid, but who knows if he took some sort of celibacy vow. You don’t need a boyfriend, but you desperately need to prove your two best friends wrong.

“I’m in,” you say. “It has to be the best date ever. I’m talking dinner, a walk, a sports game, that whole thing.”

“Are you suggesting I help you arrange that?”

Roping a stranger into your dating agenda was definitely not on your list of things to try in your junior year.

But, well. “I’m graciously asking you to.”

—

Haechan Lee, you quickly learn, is an energetic, bubbly, class clown-y Econ major. He laughs at that’s what she said jokes and doubles over every time he sees the numbers 69 and 420, especially if he sees them consecutively (not hard, given the city’s size.)

You learn over the course of three coffee outings that he takes all his coffee with three extra shots of espresso. (He tries to make you freak out using this fact, but you combat it with Jaemin’s all time record of eight shots.)

You find out he always separates the corn bits in fried rice, and that he’s an oversharer. It’s obvious he is, considering you’d known all this prior information in the course of just seven days.

Maybe you just like to observe a little more, too, but that’s besides the point.

“I’m thinking you attend a Yankees game, dinner, then a Hudson boat ride. Hyunjin likes that stuff. He won’t admit it, he wants people to think he’s a rugged New York man, but he likes to get fancy. I’m saying this like we’re best friends, but. You get it. Boat, sports, the works,” he says through a mouthful of pad thai.

“I’m thinking you chew your food before talking,” you comment pointedly, and he nods, swallowing. You continue. “That’s nice, but I’m broke and I’m not willing to spend my existing money on a date. I said extravagant…ly cheap.”

“Boo,” he laughs. “I could get you Yankees tickets for free. Then…you split dinner and you rent the boat.”

“Perfect,” you say victoriously. Then. “This is weird. This is full on Pavlov-ing.”

“Mmm, no. Pavlov was the dog guy. Conditioning? Sound? Yeah, er, this is Cyrano-ing.”

You nod in agreement. “Nerd”—you gesture to him—“hot dude”—you gesture to yourself—“nerd helps me get the hotter girl. AKA Hyunjin.”

“If I’m going to be branded a nerd, this isn’t going to work out.”

“Oh, shut up.”

—

18 days until: JUNE 8 DATE DAY!!!!

You smile amusedly at the reminder ping on your phone that Haechan had set up for you. When you look up, the smile is quickly extinguished by Jaemin and Jeno’s trenchant expressions, piercing right through you.

“What are you smiling at?” asks Jaemin with faux nonchalance.

“A TikTok,” you fib easily. “Something about the whole Paeka issue.”

The conversation switches easily to the issue you’d mentioned, and soon Jeno and Jaemin forget you had even smiled at your screen, playing Call of Duty on their Xbox and leaving you to your own devices.

U busy? You read when you’re done downing a packet of Caprisun.

No, you type back. See u.

You’re well acquainted with Haechan at this point, having seen him regularly over the course of the past week. You’re growing less and less unused to the sight of him on the bench you’d previously branded as your own.

“Hello, Cyrano,” he says with a cunning smile. “Since we’re both free, I thought you’d like to know more about Hyunjin. Also, when I’m with you, I get free food because you get hungry so much.”

“It’s easy to fall into the quirky cafe temptations in the city,” you remark. “Isn’t the date supposed to make me get to know him?”

“Yeah, but remember—this is all for Jeno and Jaemin.”

You’d established your objective for this entire master plan of a date three days ago. As handsome as Hyunjin is, you know you’ll probably find some minor flaw about him and fixate on that. So, your motive is to charm him into maybe a fling-sized relationship so Jeno and Jaemin would lay off your back.

Working? So far. Ish.

“Alright, so Hyunjin Hwang, HH, HHJ, HJ, Jinnie, Jin, Hyunnie, he has lots of names ‘cause he’s popular. Philosophy major, writing legend, blazer wearer. Smartass. Hipster.”

“So every guy then,” you deadpan with an enigmatic smile.

“See, you get it!” He sits up a little, “For that, I’d like a cup of coffee.”

—

You spend the next week and a half bent over your master plan Google doc, which Haechan covertly names SEX TOY RECOMMENDATIONS :P under your name. Really, not at all infuriating. You find it funny, though, and it stays like that the entire time.

On the first day, Haechan sends you a Starbucks drink. Scrawled on it is the name Dildo, and you groan and hide it with your own Sharpie, lest one of your best friends find it in the disposal.

On the second day, Haechan introduces you to his dog. His height and his build gives you an impression that his dog would be, maybe, a bulldog or a Lab. Instead he approaches your usual park bench with a tiny, tiny Pomeranian in his hands, attached to a pink leash.

“This is Genghis Olaf,” he states proudly, his eyes crinkling with his smile of adoration.

“She’s very c—” you cut yourself off with your own chortle, attempting uselessly to hide it behind your sweater-clad hand. “She’s cute, I swear,” you breathe between bouts of laughter. “Just. Her name is what?”

“Genghis Olaf,” he says seriously. “A very nice name for my strong dog.”

“She looks so tiny, though,” you coo, but she bites deeply into your finger when you attempt to pet her. Haechan’s laugh rings treacherously in your ears.

On the third day, you watch Annabelle: Creation on Netflix Party. He makes big talk of not being scared, but half the time his camera is shielded by his blanket.

On the fourth day, you admit your unabashed love for Taylor Swift’s music, and Haechan admits his for One Direction. You sing Dear John and replace the “green eyes” lyric with “brown”, and it makes Haechan blush. He sings Drag Me Down and matches Harry’s high note.

—

On the fifth day, your meeting place deviates from one section of the park to another, to avoid the spookily overcast weather.

“It’s not so rainy here,” rejoices Haechan, doing a small happy dance. You roll your eyes and sit beside him.

You make it a good ten minutes with your laptops open working both on Hyunjin and your own schoolwork before you notice droplets of water growing more and more frequent on the spreadsheet you’d pulled up.

“Oh, shit,” you curse, wiping it hastily and stuffing it into your bag. Haechan follows suit, but the nearest exit is a ways to go.

“Could you run any faster?!” You wail, covering your head with your tote bag, to no avail. Your hair gets the brunt of it, and so does your black tee, since the mild drizzling intensifies into heavy rain within seconds.

“Sorry I’m trying to protect my phone!” He cries back, maneuvering between garbage cans and other people in your way who have actual umbrellas.

You make it out, though, after a chaotic five minutes, and you’re one subway ride from your apartment. Haechan’s is way nearer, though, so you part, both absolutely soaked.

Before you do, he tugs a dry shirt out of his bag. “You might get sick. God knows what kind of bacteria you contract with wet cloth in the subway. Maybe even murder evidence.” He plays it off but your heart blooms with gratitude, taking it.

“Thanks, dumbass.”

You skip the sixth day and meet on the seventh.

You’d officially grown used to each other’s company, nearing three weeks of knowing each other. You swap your usual park bench for a cafe, but on the cab ride there, Haechan constantly changes his mind.

It’s Indian first, then Thai, then American, then Korean. Then Chinese. Then coffee.

“We’ve been in this cab for ages,” you whisper-yell. “Have some shame!” But he doesn’t, persistently switching the destination. It turns into a minor roadtrip around the Upper East. You pull out your laptop to work on a paper.

It only stops when Haechan abruptly yells for it to, so he can puke his guts out. Well. At least you know he’s carsick now.

—

“Yours, hers, mine,” Jaemin says, gesturing to the folded piles of fresh laundry. “She’s never even home anymore, lately. I miss her bibimbap.”

“Could you just get to folding the clothes so I can play Overwatch with Sungie?”

“You don’t care that our best friend is never home?!” Jaemin’s voice is saturated with offense and betrayal. “She’s probably out partying.”

“You mean having fun, like people our age should,” corrects Jeno sternly. “Don’t be so worried and hand me that gray shirt.”

Jaemin grumbles, but does so, despite the reluctance in his actions. “Who knows what she’s mixing herself with out there? New York is a danger zone. Scaffolding is lethal enough.”

Jeno folds up the tee with an amused scowl on his face. “You know, she’s having fun, doing schoolwork, and if she’s happy, we’re happy. That’s how best friends operate.”

Across him, Jaemin pouts. He knows this is true, and beneath the petty feelings he harbors, he’s genuinely happy that you’re having fun. “I guess,” he grouches. “But I hope she’s not sad we cancelled date draws.”

“Temporary cancellation,” Jeno says. “Also, I doubt she’s sad. She insisted we cancel it. She ordered the cancellation, so. Shirt.” He chucks the folded tee into Jaemin’s pile.

“Touche,” sighs the latter, “but I gu—hey, what? This isn’t mine, dipshit.”

“Oh,” Jeno says. “It’s mine, then.”

“Wh—it’s not yours, either.” He unfolds it to reveal the faded, bleached pattern of the Sex Pistols logo, and they squint.

“Not mine,” says Jeno quietly. “Guess it’s hers.” He tosses it onto your pile, but Jaemin snatches it before it lands.

“No way it’s hers,” he comments, inspecting it. “She’s never worn this, and it’s not branded, but she hasn’t gone thrifting in a while. She did last week, and this wasn’t in her haul.”

“So? Some band geek’s laundry got mixed up with ours,” Jeno says, but Jaemin’s quicker to come to a different conclusion.

“Are you kidding? It’s the third week of the month. She got it washed herself at the laundromat self service. This is from our apartment. Is this what you think—are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jeno nods slowly.

“Say it, on three,” says Jaemin. “Go!”

“A guy is living in our ceiling!”

“She snuck someone into our house!”

“She snuck—yeah, that’s way more likely.”

—

On the eighth day, Haechan texts you to meet him at an entirely different part of the park. You get there, confusion written all over your face, and find him sprawled across the grass, denim-clad legs splattered with yellow paint and glitter.

“Hello,” you say, “I’m not at all confused by what I’ve walked into.”

“In exchange for being your Cyrano nerd,” he begins theatrically, “I only ask one thing.”

“All the cups of coffee I’ve bought you?”

“I only ask several things,” he remedies. “Coffee and your help with my little sister’s crafts project.”

You eye the expanse of white canvas on the grass, untouched by Haechan’s skills, or, rather, his lack thereof. You roll your eyes.

“Okay. What do you need to paint?”

“Anything yellow,” he says. “New York preschool art teachers are super hipster, so their assignments are graded on a college basis. I’m half-joking.”

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“Your date thinks so.”

“I suck at crafts, Haechan.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Now, paint!”

You take the brush and get to work, dirtying yourself up in the process. By the end of it, you’ve crafted a kiddy-sized abstract masterpiece, dizzyingly yellow and sunny and bright. It’s just a bunch of brush strokes and fingerprints in a vast array of yellow, but you’re sure it’s a show stopper, since Haechan’s little sister is a five-year-old.

“If your sister is stamped a prodigy after this, I get a portion of her earnings.”

You beam down at Haechan, but you miss the way his gaze lingers on you for just a second, smearing a brushful of canary paint on his face.

A second.

Considering he’s the sole reason you talk to Haechan, you don’t remember the last time you talked about Hyunjin. You don’t mind, though, running along the open grass while flinging all sorts of shades of sun onto Haechan’s face.

—

“Honeys, I’m home!” You yell, dusting dried paint off the hem of your jeans. You deposit your keys at the entrance and make your way to the kitchen, sliding your shoes off. “What’s for dinner?”

“Thai, with a side of betraya—oomph!” You can’t catch Jaemin’s last word, Jeno’s elbow hitting his gut before he can enunciate it.

“Thai, with a side of biryani. Sounds perfect, you two,” you swoon with an appreciative smile. “Bibimbap next week, I promise!”

“Yup,” Jeno says through a strained breath. “Go get changed, you!”

You shrug off the odd behavior and follow suit, shucking your clothes off once you’re alone. You spot a neat, folded pile of fresh laundry at the foot of your bed and stop in your tracks upon seeing the familiar gray one atop it.

You touch it, a little hesitant. Jaemin and Jeno must’ve seen this, then. Your heart races inexpainably quick at the possibilty that the insinuation would be that you were dating the owner of the shirt.

But then again, Jeno and Jaemin probably couldn’t care less. You shrug indifferently, chucking the tee into your bag for Haechan’s taking tomorrow and walking back into the kitchen.

“Where’s the biryani?” You ask, confused, upon seeing its absence at the table. Jeno shrugs and mumbles some excuse about it being unavailable, and Jaemin grumbles a quiet agreement.

You eat in silence for a while. “How’s class, you two?”

“My professor,” says Jaemin, cutting off what Jeno had already opened his mouth to say, “was revealed to be in an affair this morning. It’s wild, honestly.” He rolls up the sleeves of his mint sweater. You gape through a mouthful of khao pad, brows raised. “Do tell,” you say simply, intrigued.

“Well, he was happily married to his wives—wife, his wife, and then he turned and had a nasty affair and now he can’t even face the betrayal he committed. Neither can the wife,” he says quickly, his voice laced with truth and hurt.

You nod slowly. “So. That’s it? No sordid mistress? Murder ploy? Money?”

Jaemin shakes his head, pouting. “None. Just plain”—he stares right at you—“betrayal.”

You nod again, and then your thoughts are full of khao pad.

—

Haechan picking up your dry cleaning, paying for three cabs, and accompanying you on three coffee runs is the only cause of your current predicament. Not debt—you’re not so unfortunate there, thankfully—but something much worse. See, you liked Haechan. You’d spent so much time around him it was dizzying, and he was funny and a great friend.

Which meant you’d do any minor favor for him. Which means—this. It means this. And that is how you find yourself seated on a neon green beanbag listening to a roster of Soundcloud rappers on a JBL speaker.

The room is lit only by a string of pink LED lights and the light emanating from the PC setup on the desk, shades of blue and purple radiating from it.

There are teddy bears strewn around the room, almost as many as there are Nike shoes that look extremely obscure and/or expensive. This is a very specific brand of person you’re dealing with. You take a drag from the joint in your mouth, eyeing the other contraband drugs on the desk but ignoring them for the sake of yourself.

Who else would own this kind of room—closed off, dark, lit by neon illumination only? You don’t need to look far. Spray painted in a glow in the dark green on the opposite wall is the name—

“Yangyang!” Haechan hollers when the former finally swings the door open. “Thought you’d never return. You were gone for, like, an hour.”

True enough, he was. He’d apparently left to fetch his wallet in his friend’s dorm, but never came back, granting you and Haechan plenty of time to plan for Hyunjin—well, talk, actually.

“I’ve gotta go again. Sorry, you two. Enjoy the ganja. Haechan, don’t leave yet. You have that favor you owe me!”

He slams the door shut again and you stifle a laugh. “I’ll get going if you don’t mind.”

“No,” he pleads. “We can exploit the weed and the air conditioning and everything.”

“Fine,” you say, because you weren’t planning on leaving at all. “Let’s plan.”

“Nice. Hey, you know I used to own a bear just like that?” He deviates from your suggested subject, probably unconsciously, but you find yourself being grateful for it. You follow his finger to the bear leaning against the wall opposite you, a huge brown one.

You hum. “Did you also spray paint red Xs over the eyes?”

“Yes, and on the genitals,” he says with a loud laugh. “God, no. My mom was always iffy about that stuff. We grew up well. Here in the city, I mean. Brownstone and everything. My little sister still has that life, but…yeah.” He dismisses the topic and you nod.

“I get it,” you say, leaning back and taking a drag. “Well, I don’t, but. I do.”

“Yeah. I miss my mom, and my dad hates my guts, so that’s that. I just find all the solace of the world in my sister.”

“She loves you, Haech,” you say quietly, a small smile on your face. He chuckles.

“I know she does. Me, though—I’m never good with that stuff. Gotta practice saying it somehow.” He turns to you, quiet. Then.

“I love you.”

The world slows, time melting into an indistinguishable, homogenous blob of pink and green and weed. You feel like you just ingested one of the smiley faces on Yangyang’s desk, if you’re honest. You open your mouth to respond but your eyes catch on the way his mouth is slowly curving into a smile, and you lose yourself in it. Your body bubbles in confusion and indifference—why the fuck are you so affected?

He grins. “So? Sounded genuine? I hate you, by the way. Can’t have you getting the wrong idea.”

Then the world ticks back into normal speed, a haze of lights and teddy bears, and you regain composure. “No. You sounded like a Republican apologizing.”

You brush him off, but the thought of him plagues you all the way home.

—

You dogsit Genghis Olaf for the first time on the tenth day of your planning.

You’d rather not talk about it.

—

Last edited 12 days ago stares cunningly back at you as you open the starkingly empty Google doc of your date plan. You tsk at the lack of progress, but inwardly, you don’t mind so much.

Your past weeks with Haechan have been busy, and eventually they grew to be less about Hyunjin and more about genuine conversations between the two of you. You’re not dumb. You know where this is leading—and normally, you’d start to shy away from it.

You’ve got six days until June 8th, and you can’t seem to remember the details of that date for the life of you. Your thoughts are just full of Haechan’s jokes, Haechan’s dog’s new dress, Haechan, Haechan.

It’s devastating. “—are you listening to me?” Haechan’s voice flows abruptly from your laptop, which rests on your bed. You hum loudly to say yes, pulling on a hoodie and taking a seat to show yourself on camera.

“Actually, I wasn’t. What were we talking about?” He groans at this statement, raising his brows in frustration and poking his tongue through his cheek. He does that a lot. It’s—

Your door swings open and, like clockwork, you slam your laptop shut, feigning nonchalance and getting up.

The thing is, you haven’t ever thought of Haechan in that way. In a non-platonic way. (Half truth.) But around friends like Jeno and Jaemin, who love to twiddle with stories until they’re worthy of Nora Ephron films, you can’t ever keep your mouth open, lest they think of Haechan as some sort of soulmate of yours.

So your rendezvous with him were kept a perpetual secret, and the shirt you had never returned was laundered in secret. You weren’t necessarily ready to tell them about Haechan Lee, because it would mean chronicling the past three weeks of spending all your days together.

So. “Were you watching porn?”

“Wh—what?! Jeno, you’re sick!” You toss a throw pillow at him and he catches it, scoffing.

“Porn is nothing to be ashamed of!” He yells back. “I’m just saying, if you shut your laptop so defensively, you were probably watching porn, or…” He narrows his eyes and makes a beeline for your desk, but you’re quicker.

You jump onto his back, estimating his strength perfectly and putting enough weight on him that he slows down but stays standing. “Get off me, you nympho! Probably watching foot fetish porn, but I don’t—oomph—judge!”

“Get away from my laptop, Jeno Lee!” You wail, digging a nail into his arm so he curses and stops. He mumbles in pain and an I’ll get back at you before jogging out of your room, ensuring your victory.

—

It’s 2AM and you’re an hour from home. It’s windy, too—that fact would prevail by a lot if they had a competition deciding what was most obvious. Your hair whips across your face until you splutter and resort to tying it up. Also, you’re on the 70th floor of a building, sprawled across the cement rooftop. That would probably win the competition.

You’re also in Haechan’s arms. Now, that—okay, you’re done with this whole hypothetical fact competition.

But subjectively, it’s nice, you know that well enough. It’s nice to be out at 2AM on a cold, windy night, 70 floors above the city, and it’s so nice to be resting your head against Haechan’s chest, arms loosely wrapped around your figure as he hums a song that you recommended to him.

The rational part of your head is reeling over in shock and offense. The other is—well. In Haechan’s arms. “It’s 2,” you say, “in the morning, Haech.”

“So?”

“I’m sleepy. And you dragged me up here.”

He laughs with incredulity, and you can’t help but join him. You both know that while it was suggestion to check it out, you’d been just as complacent, since the words Hey, wanna go up to the 70th floor of my friend’s dad’s uncle’s building? just seemed to ignite a thrill in you that caused you to nod.

“Then I’ll drag you down and to the subway and come back up here myself.”

“But,” you say, sitting up. He lets his arms fall and you turn, facing him. Your faces are way closer than you expected, and while you take a sharp breath inwards, you make no move away. “Then you’ll have fun without me.”

“Then stay,” he says. It sounds like he means something else.

You gulp. “If I stay, we should plan for, um. Hyunjin, then.”

Something you can’t describe, and you barely catch, quivers through his gaze, but he blinks and looks away, getting up quickly. You lose your balance, following suit, confusion written across your features at the way he’s acting.

“No kidding,” he chuckles. “What else do we need to plan?”

“Dinner? I—I don’t know. I was joking.”

“You probably really want this date, so. It’s in a few days, you know?” You nod, but your thoughts are roaring something else entirely. “Haechan, I—”

“Well, there’s a good Italian place near your apartment. I’ll text you the address. Settled. Let’s go.”

He bends back down to tug his bag up from the floor, and you’re hit with a sudden rush of vertigo, your confusion and the cold and your racing thoughts hitting you instantaneously. Your hair flattens against your face and you rake it back. “I’m—are you—is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” asks Haechan carefully, eyeing you.

You splutter. “I’m just asking.”

“It is,” he says, smiling. It’s forced. You can tell.

“It’s not,” you say, stepping closer.

“I’m serious. It is.” There’s soft solemnity in his face, but his gaze betrays it, flitting everywhere but your face.

“Haech—”

“Let’s just finish planning and, um, we can go back to being acquaintances.”

“Just tell me what it is, Haechan.”

“I—” he laughs, and it’s mirthless. “You don’t get it?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes. “Stop being so damn weird, face me, and answer me so I can.”

“I can’t look at you, goddamn it. I can’t see you, I can’t touch you, I can’t laugh around you, I can’t crack a joke around you. I can’t even mention your name. It—I. I don’t. I don’t know why, okay? I just—you’re so cool. You’re amazing, and you’re everything, and you’re funny and flawed, and bright and weird and hilarious and every other adjective I can’t think of right now. And when I see you, I feel all of that. I feel it all.

And it sucks, b—well, because, well, seeing you means hearing about Hyunjin, and everyday I think—what if it was different? What if. What if it was—I—fuck. I like you, okay? God, I do. I mean, who—wow. You’re just.”

He turns to the front of the building. “I like her!” He shouts. “And it feels good to finally tell you, but now, I just—I don’t—I.” He faces you, eyes hopeful, eyes sorrowful, and you open your mouth to form a reply.

It falls silent. It stays silent for a while.

—

JENO + JAEMIN’S Certified Heartbreak Checklist!!!

ben & jerry’s (preferred flavors: chunky monkey, cherry garcia)

taylor swift/early 2000s/dance music

feel-good movie i.e clueless, mean girls, 13 going on 30, superbad, project x

a round of call of duty with amateurs to make you feel better

sob session

“I don’t need this,” you say through a wad of snot. “I’m not heartbroken. I’m just confused.”

Jeno looks over to Jaemin, panic written all over his face. Jaemin mends it quickly, grabbing a Sharpie from the counter and scribbling over the word heartbreak, replacing it with the word Feelings?, much to your confusion. He does a bad job of it, though, and after he does it it looks more like Heartings?

“I’m okay,” you insist fruitlessly. You’d been crying your eyes out for two days, knowing not much other ways to cope with such a frighteningly confusing situation. You’d made a list of pros and cons before realizing you didn’t need any. You wrote down a speech for how to respond to Haechan, and you’d gone all over your usual meeting spots to recite it to him.

You couldn’t find him, for the life of you. You’d gone back home instead and recited a play by play of the events in your head.

“I hate myself.”

“Don’t. Haechan’s probably just not ready.”

Minor detail: you’d also spilled the totality of your predicament to Jeno and Jaemin, whose faces morphed from giddy to anguished to confused and back, much like your feelings. While this eliminated the need to hide Haechan’s existence from them, it also opened to you the copious amount of unsolicited advice.

You rack your head to try and find ways to apologize to him. That night, faced with bewilderment and feelings, you’d gasped in air until you couldn’t, shoving the exit open and running down flight after flight of stairs.

By the time the adrenaline had worn off, you’d just made it about six floors down. You took the elevator the rest of the way and kept hoping he would enter.

It sucked. However you chose to react, it was your mistake to remedy, and you didn’t quite know how. You still don’t.

You wallow in self pity and puzzlement and a spoon of Cherry Garcia before Jaemin bounds out of his room and into yours, smile broad on his face. “Yo, dude. I just saved your life.”

“Whose? Mine, I hope,” says Jeno offhandedly, walking into your room holding a slice of pizza. Jaemin glares at him.

“No, you dumbass. Hers.”

“Not to invalidate, but looking at my grades makes me feel like my life needs major saving.”

Ignoring him, Jaemin continues. “Listen—Haechan Lee, the guy you fucked over”—this earns him a flick of ice cream—“you want to apologize, right? But you never knew his exact address. But I’m telling you now. It’s his birthday, and…”

You’re sure Jaemin says the details afterwards, but your mind sticks itself onto the fact that it’s Haechan’s birthday: a fact he’d never told you before, and one you’d never thought to ask about. It’s his birthday. Birthday. His birthday. June 6th. It makes sense, and not even in an astrological point of view. It just does.

“I’m going,” you state blindly, getting out of bed immediately. “Now.”

—

Haechan’s apartment, you quickly learn, is a very nice one with nice windows and nice doors and a nice guest list. You heave the door open, Jeno and Jaemin teetering behind you, and find a room full of people. You tug it back shut instantly, nerves pulsating through you like a bad drug.

“I can’t,” you lament, biting your lip. Jaemin tugs on a lock of your hair.

“Don’t be a pussy and do it,” Jeno says sternly. “Own up.”

You pout, but push it open again and slip inside, your two friends following suit. You weave your way through the crowd and find groups scattered along the wide area—beer pong, weed, making out, there’s a space for everything. Judging by the way Jaemin and Jeno leave your side instantly, probably single hotties, too.

Your heart thumps with uncertainty, but it mellows down after ten minutes of futile search attempts. Every time you think it’s him, your heart leaps to your throat, but it never is.

So you take it as a sign. He’s probably getting laid in one of the two closed bedrooms, or buying more booze outside. You find your two henchmen—friends—in a throng of people playing Uno and tell them you’d be back.

You navigate the building’s elevator buttons until you find the rooftop one and wait in idle silence. Of course, he’s waiting on the other side when it opens.

His back is turned to you and you’re feet apart, the wide expanse of the rooftop separating you. You press the close button furiously, not ready to confront another rooftop confession yet.

A nasty deja vu cascades through you, and you shiver. The doors are closed for one minute and then they ding open, and you see him on the other side, and God he looks great. He’s in a black polo and black jeans and somebody’s written birthday boy on the space on his cheek, underneath his eye.

He enters the elevator, swallowing and clearing his throat. It smells like him. It’s stuck to his clothes.

“I’m sorry.” The starking silence is broken and in your shock, you can’t form a reply. Your head turns to him fast, eyes unblinking.

“Don’t,” you say, and then you inhale, deep. “Don’t be. I am. I—”

“But I’m—”

“Let me talk.” You say, facing him. You realize everything you’ve wanted to say is stored in your rigid script, so you take a deep breath and let it all out. To hell with being eloquent.

“I got nervous. I got—I got shocked, I got confused. The truth is, I’ve been running in circles trying to figure out how I feel for you. I mean, you’re funny. You’re cool and you’re—I don’t know, you’re just.” You take a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from rambling. “Okay. Well, I like you, too, and I like you a lot, and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I like you! I have nobody to yell this to, but you, but you’re the only person who needs to know right now. I like you. And I like liking you. And I like not planning this date on June 8th because I don’t want Hyunjin. And—I don’t know—I’m scared, that maybe this will all go to shit, because I suck at these stuff, and so do you, but I don’t know, it feels like if I try, it won’t be so bad.”

Obviously, when you look back up at him, he’s sporting a shit-eating smirk.

“Happy birthday to me,” he says, and then you’re kissing him so he’ll shut up.

Your hands find his face, trailing your touch everywhere so you can feel the change of texture when you encounter the eyeliner smudged beneath his eye, the moles dotted across his face. He smiles into the kiss, deepening it, his hands finding your waist to bring you closer to him. It’s a kiss you’ve wanted for always, but one you never knew you’d wanted. It’s a soft kiss, but a deep one, one with laughs and one with breaths that smell of ice cream and mint.

“Give it up,” you mumble. “I hate you.”

“That’s very contradictory, considering I just received the best gift of my life.”

“Well, you’re about to get another one.”

—

It’s the 8th of June, and Hyunjin sits alone at the dinner table, wondering why Haechan, the guy from the groupchat whom he barely even knew, called him out of the blue and requested to meet him. The restaurant looked fancy, and expensive, and he began to feel nervous at the propect of having to pay for a meal.

He’s been waiting for ten minutes now, and both him and the waiters are beginning to grow antsy. He’s ordered water maybe six times, and to be honest, he’s getting a little pissed.

And then. “Hwang? Hyunjin Hwang?” He looks up, eyes gleaming in relief and then in bewilderment at his companions for the night. Politely, he cocks his head to the side, running a hand through his hair.

“Hi, do I know y—”

“Jaemin Na. This is Jeno Lee. We understand you’re in need of a date.” Two guys clad in matching black tees sit on either side of him, voices loud despite the quiet aura of the restaurant. Hyunjin doesn’t know how to react.

“I’m really not, y—”

“Trust us.” Jeno slams a manila folder on the desk, and opposite him, so does Jaemin. “We are high-tier selectors of love interests. Our past clients…client, rather, is extremely content with their love life.”

“Because you recommended their soulmate?” asks Hyunjin, confused.

“Well…no. Actually, she met her boyfriend elsewhere. But that’s besides the point.” Jaemin extracts ten papers from his folder and Jeno follows suit.

“Hyunjin Hwang, are you ready for a date draw?”

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #haechan imagines #haechan fluff #nct

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the-iceni-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Fucking New Year!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 5071

Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!

A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!

“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”

He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.

He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard. He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.

The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.

The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.

He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.

“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”

“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.

“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”

The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.

“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.

“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”

“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”

“You guessed.”

“I guessed right.”

“So, you admit it, you guessed!”

“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”

They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.

Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.

“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”

“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.

“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.

“I nominate robot boy.”

“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”

“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”

One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.

“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”

“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”

“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”

“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”

“Um, no, you cheat.”

“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”

You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.

“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”

“Whatever, I’ll still win.”

You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.

“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.

Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.

“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”

“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”

“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”

“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.

“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”

“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”

“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”

“Alright, just give us a second.”

You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.

“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.

“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”

“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”

“You are a goon.”

“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”

“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”

You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.

“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.

“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”

Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.

“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”

“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”

“The what?” You hissed at him.

“Uh….”

“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.

“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”

“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”

“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”

“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.

“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”

He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.

“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”

Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.

“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”

“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”

You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.

“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.

“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.

“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.

He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.

“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.

“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.

“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”

“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.

“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.

The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.

“Gimme a boost, Buck.”

“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.

“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”

“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.

“Ooh, think we can make it back?”

“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”

Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.

Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.

“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.

“Yeah, why are you surprised?”

You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.

“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.

“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.

You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.

“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.

“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.

It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.

“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”

You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.

You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.

“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.

“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.

“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.

“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”

You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”

You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.

He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”

You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.

“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.

“What?”

“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.

“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.

“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.

He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.

“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.

He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.

He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.

“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”

He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”

“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”

He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.

“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”

He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.

“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.

He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.

One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.

He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.

“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”

“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”

“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.

“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”

He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.

“What?”

“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”

To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.”

“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”

He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.

His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.

The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.

You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.

“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”

You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.

“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.

“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.

He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.

“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.

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@drabblewithfrannybarnes @starlightcrystalline @stargazingfangirl18 @buckysnumberonegirl

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #seb stan #bucky barnes smut #smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #eighteen plus

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Nannyette

Chapter 9 – A View From the Top

Chapter 1 Chapter 8

Tim studied the pictures on her wall again while he waited for Marinette to change out of her stained shirt. Specifically, he studied the picture of Marinette that looked like it was taken from the top of the Eifel Tower. He studied the background of the photo. Either it was a hell of a photo shop job or it was actually taken from the Eifel Tower, and taking into account the perspective and size of the objects in the background, it was taken at the top of the Tower. But there was no way she could have gotten up there, right? So it must be photo shop. Unless… He thought back to the photos she identified in his townhouse.

“Sorry I made us stop here. I’m such a klutz,” Marinette groaned apologetically.

“You aren’t even trying to hide it, are you?” Tim asked with an amused, teasing lilt to his voice.

Marinette furrowed her brow and gave him a confused shake of her head. She followed his eye line to look at the pictures, specifically the picture Adrien had taken of her from the top of the Eifel Tower. Marinette paled slightly and snapped her eyes back to Tim. “Hide what exactly?” she asked carefully.

“This picture was taken from the top of the Eifel Tower, a place they do not allow civilians. There was no way for you to get up there legally or even illegally.” He moved closer to her with each sentence, a love-struck grin on his face. Marinette subconsciously backed away as he moved forward. “That’s why you were so quick to identify my pictures as outing me. You had pictures that could out you. You were one of the heroes, weren’t you?”

He quirked his head to the side and studied her, trying to figure out which hero she was, still advancing on her, missing the sudden color change and tension in her frame. “That’s how you knew so much about them and how their suits worked, why you’re such a good fighter, why you are so good at patching up wounds, how you knew how worried we would be about our identities.” He looked up and saw a picture of her and Adrien together. “That’s what you and Adrien were talking about earlier with the ‘dealing with giant babies’. I thought you were talking about annoying people but you meant a literal giant baby, an akuma you guys had to deal with because he’s a hero too.” Tim grinned proudly for having figured it out.

Marinette only stopped backing up when her back hit a wall. She looked away to think about her options, a plausible excuse. She may have found out about their identities, but she wasn’t ready for him to find out hers. She carefully controlled her breathing. If she started hyperventilating now, it would be a dead giveaway that he was right. Tim had advanced to the point of almost touching her. He put his arm up on the wall to lean against it, unintentionally boxing her in and making her feel claustrophobic.

She looked back up timidly. “Or… I was friends with a few of them, particularly Chat Noir. I was the target for quite a few akumas and got to know them pretty well. My balcony was along their patrol route and I gave them pastries whenever I could. Chat had a pretty bad home life and he liked to stop at my balcony to think and talk. Plus we gave them pastries and treats when they stopped, so it was a popular spot.”

He looked at her skeptically searching for signs of duplicity, but everything she said seemed truthful. At the very least, she believed what she was saying. “And the picture?” he nodded to the picture of her from the Eifel Tower.

She looked over to the picture and got a nostalgic smile on her face. “Chat took that. He wanted to give me a view I’d never forget.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Should I be jealous? Do you have a different favorite hero?”

She chuckled lightly, thankful for the change in focus. “I grew up with Ladybug and Chat Noir and the rest. They mean a lot to me. My life has been saved so many times because of that team.” She raised up her hand to run it along his neck and rest it on his shoulder. “But lately another hero has caught my attention.”

He smiled at her seductively and rested his hands on her hips. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded coyly, looking up at him through her eyelashes and running her finger down his chest. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

“Maybe. Do I get to find out their name?”

She hummed at him and pulled him down until his ear was a few centimeters away from her lips. “Black Bat.”

She grinned as he groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder. “I want to be mad but I can’t blame you for that. She’s everyone’s favorite.”

Marinette hummed again and lifted his head to look at her. “Maybe, but not mine.” Her previously teasing eyes were now filled with tender affection. “I kind of have a thing for Red Robin, but I heard he has a girlfriend.”

Tim nodded as he moved to cup her face. “He does. I heard he absolutely adores her. He thinks he might be falling in love with her.”

Marinette’s eyes sparkled and she grinned brilliantly. “Yeah?” Tim nodded again, unable to look away from her eyes. Marinette’s smile grew impossibly wider and she wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him closer. “Good. Because I heard she’s falling in love with him too.”

Tim’s smiled excitedly. “Really?” This time Marinette nodded, biting her lip shyly. Tim surged forward to kiss her passionately, but before their lips met, her head snapped to the suddenly opened door and his lips landed on her cheek.

Adrien slammed the door behind him and made his way back toward his room, so focused on what he was thinking about he didn’t see them against the far wall. “Okay Plagg, what do you think? ‘Bug, I’ve decided I’m going to ask Luz to marry me. So… I want to let the cat out of the bag.’ No, no, that isn’t good. She won’t appreciate the, frankly perfect, pun.”

A high pitched voice rose up from Adrien’s jacket. “That was terrible and a lazy effort.”

“What do you know? You don’t like any puns unless they are about cheese. Okay, how about “Marinette, Bugaboo, Bug, LB, best friend ever, sister, I’ve decided I want to spend the rest of my life with Luz and I don’t want to keep any secrets of mine from her. So, I want to tell her about Paris and about me, who I was. I won’t tell her about you. I know how important it is that nobody knows who you are.’ Good right? ‘Oh, and you need to be my Best Man. Best Maid? Best Person?’”

Tim gaped at him and whipped his head back to Marinette whose eyes were clamped shut and her face scrunched up in frustration. “I’m supposed to be lucky,” she groaned out quietly and lightly banged her head against the wall behind her. She took a deep breath and gave Tim an apologetic grimace before turning to address Adrien. “Plagg is right, that was a lazy effort, but I understand you were distracted. Wait until she says yes before you tell her and maybe not in the same night. Give her time to celebrate the engagement before you drop a big bomb on her. She’ll love it,” she rushed to assure him, “but it’s still a lot, so not at the same time.”

Adrien jerked back, whipping his head around to see her and Tim, almost falling but catching himself at the last minute. His face immediately paled as he mentally went through everything he had just admitted to. “Hey Bu… uh… Marinette.” He stuttered awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “I thought… so you didn’t go to his place then?”

“Nope,” she said popping the p.

“I thought you were going to his place.”

“I had to change my clothes.”

“How much…” he couldn’t even finish the question.

Marinette sighed and moved away from Tim wrapping her arms around herself as she did. “Enough.”

Adrien let out a guilty sigh, “Sorry Bug. I didn’t… I should have checked my surroundings. I really… I’m sorry.”

Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile. “It’s okay. He had actually just asked a few minutes before you came in anyway, so I wasn’t going to be able to hide it for much longer.”

Adrien looked between the two of them surprised Tim picked up on it so quickly when none of their friends or family had been able to after years. “Right. Okay. Well I’ll just… um… go then. Good to see you again, Tim.” He waved to Tim before he remembered the awkward situation he had just created and stiffly retracted his hand before quickly retreating out of the apartment.

Marinette moved to lean against the back of the couch. She didn’t think she would be able to stand on her own for this conversation. “I’m sorry,” she spoke quietly to the floor. “I… I didn’t lie. None of what I said was a lie. Chat did stop by a lot before either of us knew each other’s identity and that picture was… I had a particularly rough day. Chat didn’t know why but it was a lot of things piling up on me both as a civilian and a hero and a… um…” she furrowed her brow as she spoke. She wanted to finish that sentence but she couldn’t. As much as she cared about Tim, she couldn’t risk telling him more than he already knew. “Anyway, Chat didn’t know why exactly it was such a rough day for me but he took me up to the top of the Tower to get me to smile.”

She could hear Tim approaching her slowly, but she wasn’t ready to look in his eyes yet. She wasn’t ready for the betrayal in his eyes she was sure would be there. “We didn’t even know each other’s identity until after we had defeated Hawkmoth, the first one.” She looked to the side, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. “And what I said about the powers, how much danger there is, how much power is involved, that was all true. I can’t tell someone I just met, no matter how I feel about him. I’m sorry, I just can’t. There is too much at stake.” The tears were falling faster now. She knew she was going to lose him over this. He had shared his identity with her and she had basically lied about hers even when he directly asked. He was going to think she didn’t trust him or she was just using him.

She startled when she felt arms wrap around her and pull her into a welcoming chest. “Shhh. It’s okay. I understand. It’s okay. I’m not mad or disappointed,” he reassured her, rubbing comforting circles on her back and kissing her temple.

She pulled back to look him in the eyes to verify his words. His eyes held nothing but honesty and concern for her. She lamented the loss of his hands around her waist until she felt his hands on her face, wiping away her tears. “Do you know how paranoid Batman is about identities? He passed that onto me. I had friends in the superhero community for years before I told them who I was. We saved each other’s lives more times than I could count. I trusted them absolutely, but didn’t tell them my identity. If you hadn’t found out our identities on your own, I probably wouldn’t have told you for a long time and there was a lot less at stake for me than there is for you.”

He cupped her face again and laid a chaste kiss on her lips. “I understand. We just started dating. I don’t expect you to spill all your secrets right away. It’s okay.” He pulled her into his chest again to wrap her in his reassuring embrace and rest his forehead on hers. “And I meant what I said, I’m falling in love with you. Nothing about what just happened changes that, other than to maybe make me even more impressed. And make no mistake, tonight I’m going to scour the internet to find videos of my kickass girlfriend in action so I can feel even more unworthy.”

Marinette gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she whispered barely loudly enough to hear even in the silent apartment.

“The worst part about this is that I don’t get to gush about my superhero girlfriend and lord it over the others. I’m just going to have to know internally you are definitely too good for me,” he sighed out in mock exasperation.

Marinette giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know what you mean. I can’t gush to Adrien about the amazing job my boyfriend did taking down the cartel the other day or the jaw dropping moves he did in the fight.” She sighed pitifully. “I’m just going to have to stick to gushing about the qualities he shows in his civilian identity; being brilliant, kind, funny, sexy, sweet, compassionate, dedicated, loyal…”

She would have continued listing off more of his outstanding characteristics but Tim stopped her mouth with a passionate, hungry kiss. He pulled away breathlessly to look her in the eyes. “I think I was wrong, I’m not falling in love with you. I’m already there. I love you.”

Marinette beamed at him and cupped his face, gazing at him adoringly. “I love you too.”

“But,” he looked down in mock disappointment, “maybe some form of punishment might be in order.” Her face fell and she looked at him confused. He looked back up with a devilish grin. “I’m just not certain if it is more of a snuggles level infraction or cuddles level.”

Her expression morphed to a sultry look. She pulled his face closer to hers again. “This might be severe enough to level up. I was thinking it might be a watching Knives Out level transgression.”

“Ooohhh, that seems harsh, but if you think that’s justified…” He closed the gap to pull her into a searing, passionate kiss, which was quickly followed by many, many more.

The End

Tags:

@timari-month-event @ichigorose @stainedglassm @better-toast @theymakeupfairies @trippingovermyfeet @demonicbusiness @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @a4-machete

#maribat #Nannyette #timinette #timari #Timari January #prompt - childhood friends

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whenimgoodandready · 3 years ago

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There’s that saying where “You’re stuck with your family, but you can choose your friends”. May sound harsh, but if you’re fams full of upperclass snobs who’s noses are so stuck up that they’ll obviously drown when it rains, then I’m sorry and I pray the best for you, but at least you have the freedom to seek out better people in your social circle. Our new friend learned the same thing. Let’s see how that went:

*Sole Crusher-The newest character just dropped in Paris, France from New York and her names Zoe (pronounced as Zoey) Lee! She’s the white sheep of the Bourgeois family. The only angel amongst the horned she-devils Chloe and Audrey. However, she hides her halo just to appease her maternal family and feel like she belongs so as not to disappoint them and it almost shines through, but the poor thing has to shove it back in and be forced to walk all over those who are deemed “beneath” her. Like Marinette! Whom she recently befriended. Marinette tries to figure out if Zoe is genuinely nice or is as spoiled rotten as Chloe cuz she learned not to judge someone quickly based on their connection to her (“Origins Part 2:Stoneheart”).

The only person she can confine in about her family dilemma, is the only non-blood related member, Andre Bourgeois. He understands her sticky situation and tries his best to help by saying the “best” thing she can do is just “bury it”. Bury what you have (and who you are) and just be a doormat like he is. Otherwise the people you love will hate you forever, think you’re incompetent and threaten to leave to another country where you’ll never see them again (“Malediktator”). Poor guy had to give up his dreams of being a filmmaker to go into politics to please his family. Ah! So it was him who made that movie starring Emilie! (“Gorizilla”). Not the best advice to give, but we’ll give the guy props for trying what he failed to do w/ that biological b*tch.

That bad advice unfortunately came back to bite him in the a** when Zoe sadly follows it and it gets her akumokized as Sole Crusher. A golden villainess encrusted w/ diamonds, spiky horns that Loki would approve of and killer shoes that literally kill and grows bigger the more people she crushes. She looks a lot like Audrey when she was akumatized as Style Queen! Zoe may not act like her fam, but her inner demons sure show that they are in fact related when their villain forms take the same form. Marinette tried to break her out of this by reminding her of how she’s (Zoe’s) a good person and that she doesn’t need to live up to her families expectations to feel accepted. It would’ve worked had Shadow Motherf**ker not intervened. Damn! Worked w/ Christmaster, but he was a child, so it was easier.

At long last, we finally meet Zoe! That’s Bomb #7! Funny, in the beginning, we assumed her name was Amber. Lol! I already explained my (and my friends) thoughts about her in my post https://whenimgoodandready.tumblr.com/post/646703444357513216/guys-i-think-i-just-came-to-a-suspicious-theory and the correct guess was she is in fact Chloe’s half-sister from her mothers side. I was skeptical on that cuz God knows when the miraculous staff are telling the truth or just f**king w/ us, so I had my options open. In this case, Zoe was the “secret sibling” that was rumored about when Season 4 was in production. Soooooo basically, when Audrey left Chloe when she was just a toddler (implied by “Despair Bear”), Audrey went to New York and had an affair which resulted in Zoe and the funny thing is everyone is “cool” w/ that!?……….Yeah! They are! Seriously, no one and I mean no one questioned this! I mean, Andre wasn’t upset that Audrey was unfaithful in their marriage (cuz he’s henpecked), Audrey wasn’t ashamed and even Chloe tolerated Zoe (at first), so as long as she behaved like royalty and treated others like sh*t! Hell! Not even the kids at school talked about it when Chloe announced Zoe as her half-sister! Is this the kind of message we want the younger audience to see? That “it’s okay if a parent cheats”!? I don’t think so!😡. If this show were to have that original darker and edgier theme it had planned, then we’d get something more of a realistic reaction and problem solving solution to all this. In the end, Zoe chose to be her sweet old self and befriend Marinette and her classmates much to Chloe’s chagrin. Lesson here is to just be yourself and never give-in to peer pressure. I’ve seen many fans point out how Zoe is just a “what-we-could’ve-had” nice version of Chloe (as she lampshaded herself) due to the fandoms disappointment at Chloe’s failed redemption arc that was promised. It looked as if Astruc was trying to apologize for that by giving us a “redeemed replacement” of it thinking it’ll make up for it, but it was a no sell :P. Chloe is worse than before from what we’ve seen in this ep, pushing others in her way towards Sole Crusher just to save her own a** and demanding Zoe be sent back to New York for not being a “real” Bourgeois, and from what I’ve been spoiled this season, it’s gonna get even more worse! I’ll explain more about Chloe’s failed redemption arc and Zoe’s involvement in this in the next review which again focuses on the both of ‘em.

#miraculous ladybug #sole crusher #miraculous sole crusher

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

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Could you possibly do one where Mari/Mari and marine is/are the daughter/son of the joker?

I actually planned quite a lot for this after you asked but could never get my thoughts to make something comprehensive so I give up here's what I got!:

-Twins are Joker and Harleys kids born before the two split up(and so help me they will split up this story needs gay aunt Ivy)

-As you might know, these two clowns have another kid; Lucy. Harley left Lucy with her sister when she was born. In canon, she thinks Harley is her aunt but I would say in this fic she learned the truth when the twins were also dropped off.

-So the twins grew up in Gotham with their aunt and big sister knowing full well who their parents are; as such they make the responsible choice to suppress every part of themselves that resembles them and constantly dye their hair in an effort to avoid looking like them. You know healthy coping mechanisms. -

-Naturally, Marinette has brown hair with blue eyes and Marion blonde with brown eyes.

-Their personalities are a bit different from Mismatch.

-Marion is still a trickster and a trouble maker but this time around has Marinette fully involved and responsible for his shenanigans. He has a bit of a habit of talking to himself(or singing random phrases), sometimes in the third person; he hates when he does, so Marinette always tells him off. He’s always gets the impulse of dying his hair outlandish colors and will vehemently deny his favorite color is green.

- Marinette is crafty, both figuratively and literally. She’s smart, her mother is a doctor after all she can be manipulative to people that arent her(close) family to protect the ones she cares about. She has a deep-seated fear of becoming a trophy, an object to be put on display like her mother and so dresses the opposite and pushes away her love for fashion.

-They will always call each other Mari but if someone else tries they both answer its a nickname they strictly use for each other.

-In a world where Gotham exists it makes absolutely no sense that Gabriel wouldn't start his reign as Hawkmoth in Gotham(the place with the most negative emotions like geez) so that works out perfectly for the twins becoming heroes(Adrien can move to Gotham or be left in Paris to be kept safe your choice)

-Instead of the twins proving themselves by helping an old man up off the street they go a step further is beating up the thugs that try to rob him(all Fu’s set up of course). When they come home to find two mysterious boxes on their beds they make the only rational conclusion children of the joker would; it’s a bomb!

-Not wanting to get the police involved for obvious reasons they find the security footage(which gets the police involved in a different way) and start tracking down fu to see why he’s trying to kill him.

-And as you may recall at this point in canon Ladybug and Chat Noir are defeating an Akuma, well they're not here they’re off to beat up an old man so thats Batman’s job for the time being.

-The twins get caught up in the fight as civilians and are saved by Batman who immediately recognizes them(you don't think Batman has case files on all of Jokers hellspawn?) so that’s gonna be a problem later but never mind that for now~

-The twins track down Fu, who is wondering why they aren’t out fighting the Akuma. Long story short Fu comes back to the house with them and proves they aren't bombs giving them the miraculous.

-I’m a bit indecisive on the names. I thought Marinette would be Red Bug and Marion Black Cat(yes I know that names already taken I don’t care). But I thought Crimson Bug would work better because then their names would start with the same letters. Then I wanted alliteration like Black Bug and Crimson Cat but that obviously doesn't make any sense since Chats color is green not red-- then I realized it would be completely in character for them to call themselves that confusing everyone in the process so no one quite sure whos name is who(if you wanna write it go with whatever I just thought it could be funny)

-As for costumes Marinette's probably wouldn't be skin tight because deep down she really doesn't want to look like that but more practical armor or less form-fitting at least. Marion's hair turns green when he transforms something he freaks out about and Marinette's turns red(glowing or not either would look cool)

-So anyway they go off to defeat the akuma blah blah blah Batman seeing these two young untrained superheroes can only think of one thing: I have to adopt them. So that’s gonna be fun!

-Anyway they go back home trying to be sneaky and immediately get caught by Lucy: ”Don’t tell Aunty!”-- ”Oh I already know” (her names Delia by the way)

- So now the twins get a support system and a family that will look out for them unbelievable right? This support system immediately threatens Fu making sure he actually trains them and doesn't just set them loose on Gotham.

Anyway that's the end of my semi-cohesive plan and here's a vague outline for the fic:

1. Becoming ladybug and chat noir setting up adoption, and school(Bruce invites them to Gotham academy to keep an eye on the jokers children)

2. First day at school setting up Artemis(and by extension young justice), and own passions, Adrien is also at this school now so Marinette falls, Jason finds out falling in love with Marion

3. Becoming friends with Artemis, convinces them to give their passions a try, Marion runs from hood, some let me adopt you stuff also Jason's spite for Cat Noir

4. Skip a bit of time a few months or so, young justice need help Artemis suggest mari and mari, Marinette has a smackdown with batman about their heritage, at odds with young justice Artemis comes to their defense. Young Justice have an ‘oh’ realization on the job when Marion sings a lullaby to a scared child, now the young justice form the mari and mari protection squad

5. Doing ladybug and cat stuff batman approaches them again this time luring them into adoption with a partnership on finding hawkmoth, Red Hood and cat fight. Marion comes back all huffy and there's a scene with Lucy this time comforting them, Marion goes out to get air runs into hood marion bristles stirring Jason to meet him as a civilian, class come to visit, at odds with lila

6. Doing well at school even made a few friends when the Paris class come to visit completely under lila’s control, lila tries to slander the twins for not worshiping her only to out herself when she tells everyone they laughed at her(the twins never laugh), Jason also drops by further discrediting her, lila tries to throw their heritage in their face but they get support openly working with heroes as civilians, this little section ends quite happily with them being sort of accepted at school and batman tolerating their existence for not attacking the person who tried to make their life miserable

7. Time skip few years out of high school now, ladybug and cat are working well with gothams vigilantes widely considered part of the batfam even if no one knows each other's identities. As mari and mari they are doing good work mainly outside of gotham. Marinette is starting a fashion boutique with a little financial help from Wayne enterprises she also does costume design for heroes and villains, villains mainly because she can't stand their current outfits. Marion quite likes his music but isn't sure how he will feel in the public eye is great friends with Jason and the skip picks up with them officially starting to go out identities unknown. They are still hesitant about their identities in civilian life Marinette starting her business under a false name and Marion cant start his because of his heritage. Jason officially has to admit they are going out to the family is met with grilling by aunt and sister, joy by harley once she tries giving them sex advice they leave, his brothers tease and both are tense about Bruces reaction but he begrudgingly accepts. Are out as ladybug and Cat still snippy with hood but it’s not as bad they are closing in on hawkmoth. Go to hang out with young justice as well they aren't well-liked in Gotham but they’re fine with that(not really)

8. NOW things can go to shit joker finally has enough of them deciding to get a hold of them but I think it should be as ladybug and chat revealing their identities to the world. The twins are terrified rightfully so. Get saved now it’s weird between hood and marion, marion feeling betrayed Jason knew who he was and knew who his father was but still decided to date him and he just can't understand why. Adrien was so scared for Marinette and now they both have to work out why. Gotham is at odds the heroes they admire are born from a villain they fear. Bats are a bit weird feeling like they were tricked while also kind of acknowledging the twins are good people

9. Harassed in their everyday life now the twins go to young justice where they get met with awe for being established independent heros, bats there are acting weird but the twins say something to shift perspective leaving to let them mull on it. Jason tries to apologise saying he doesn't see Marion like that blah blah Marion has a breakdown asking how he can be anything but a villain. Marinette's having whiplash going from loved to hated and still dealing with the trauma of seeing her father. They snap. In public a big ol scene and they get akumatised everyone sees it, it’s on tv. Hawkmoth comes out to get their miraculous the batfam can’t beat him. He’s monolouging probing at their deepest fears when they snap back to reality realizing none of it’s true every part of them has worked to be good people and they are they don't hand over their miraculous beating the akumatizaton and beating hawkmoth while akumatised.

10. They are released from the hospital a few days later, getting hesitant recognition on the streets. It's not thunderous applause but it is something. Their family comes to pick them up, Adrien is crying to Marinette about not scaring him like that(her family took him in when Gabriel was revealed). Marion gets picked up by Jason they patch things over. They get accepted into the batfam and work as ladybug and cat for everything. Marion decides to start playing music and Marinette reveals her face to her fashion brand.

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ffamranxii · 3 years ago

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I’m only about halfway through Meteor Garden so I’ll save my major comparisons to Boys Over Flowers for the end, but I’d really like to get out my thoughts as of episode 25.

This is Shancai, and she is our protagonist. She is literal sunshine in human form and she deserves SO MUCH BETTER than what she’s getting. Seriously, she needs to tell every single character in this show to fuck off and then get the hell out of Shanghai. She’s been assaulted, insulted, harassed, kidnapped, demeaned, and had absolutely everyone in this show tell her “Oh Si’s just a total dickbag because he loves you” and “you’re just unsure because you’re in love.” No, Si’s a dickbag because he’s the fucking devil and she’s unsure because she’s been forced into an abusive relationship due to her inability to just say no and Si’s inability to take a fucking hint. At this point I’m watching the series to see if she makes it the fuck out alive.

This is the F4, (l-r) Si, Lei, Meizuo, and Ximen. Si has some serious anger issues that apparently stem from his father passing away and no one loving him enough, which I guess gives him the reason to be a passive aggressive asshole and beat the fuck out of random guys. Body count so far: 2. He’s also literally assaulted Shancai four times as of episode 25, once within the first episode (which is when Shancai should’ve noped the fuck out of there but of course did not, because women’s autonomy and safety mean nothing in this show.) I understand that a huge part of the Hana Yori Dango franchise is Tsubasa/Junpyo/Si learning to be an actual human being and deal with his emotions, but Si is disturbing close to his manga counterpart, and manga Tsubasa almost got Tsukushi killed, on purpose, within the first ten chapters. That being said, when he’s with his friends he does have some good moments and does grow, but he seriously needs to leave Shancai alone.

Lei is who I thought I would ship Shancai with, since I shipped his Korean counterpart with her Korean counterpart hardcore in Boys Over Flowers -- but I was wrong. Lei is not a great person. He’s cold and distant and extremely hung up over his childhood love Jing, who he’s only slightly nicer to. He follows Jing to Paris, and when they break up he uses Shancai not just to get over Jing but to pull some weird passive aggressive stunt over on Si. In fact, Si and Lei seem to have this really bizarre, sadistic sexual tension between them and have more chemistry than Shancai does with either of them. I’d root for that ship.

Meizuo is not at all what I was expecting. So far everyone follows their Korean counterparts really well -- except Meizuo, who is nothing like Woobin. Meizuo might as well be an entirely different character, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Also unlike Woobin, he gets his own storyline apparently with Caina, which looks promising. Meizuo is arguably my favorite Meteor Garden F4 member because he dresses like he fishes every piece of clothing from the trash and I scream “what the FUCK are you wearing” at least once an episode. He’s also the sassiest.

Ximen is just a slightly more manipulative Yijung, which I kind of like. He also seems to have a dangerous side to him that the Korean adaption gave to Woobin -- it’s implied that he and Si have beat up people in the past together. His relationship with Xiaoyou is, I think, the only fucking healthy one in the entire show so far; he’s extremely sweet, attentive, and caring towards her, even though he’s a dick and a troll to his friends (though to be fair, Meizuo and Lei also troll Si at every opportunity, which is hilarious) and enables Si’s behavior towards Shancai and passive aggressively shames her when she tries to stand up for herself. I’m wondering if his relationship with Xiaoyou will pan out like that, or if it’ll be super cute and storybook like Yijung’s was with Gaeul.

Shancai has actual friends in this adaption, holy shit. Xiaoyou is the Meteor Garden counterpart to Gaeul so we’ve seen her before. She’s very cute and kitschy, and at times is one of Shancai’s only supporters (though she also hardcore Shancai/Si and tells Shancai multiple times “you’re just in love” when Shancai voices her very valid concerns about the man, which is worrying because Xiaoyou also doesn’t make good choices when it comes to romance.) Li Zheng (middle) and Qinghe (right) don’t exist in Boys Over Flowers and therefore are completely new to me (but not to the franchise, as they have Hana Yori Dango counterparts). Li Zheng has a massive inferiority complex that isn’t entirely undeserved in the beginning, as Shancai (accidentally) leaves her humiliated in the rain and unable to get into a big party. She almost ruins Shancai’s life by getting her drunk, sending her home with a strange guy, and posting pictures of them in bed together all over the internet -- and Shancai, for some bizarre reason, fucking forgives her, because she is a literal saint and we do not deserve her. After that stunt, however, Li Zheng seems to be a pretty decent friend, but like everyone else in this show is completely unreliable when it comes to giving Shancai dating advice.

Qinghe and I were homies for a while, because he is THE ONLY GODDAMN PERSON who continually sees Si for the asshole he is and calls him out on it, and the F4 treat him pretty badly, using him a lot as a replaceable member for when they kick Si out (for all of five minutes) for being a little too unbearable. However, by episode 25 he’s fully into Nice Guy mode, and hates Si not because he’s a douche but because Si is dating Shancai. Dude went from Shancai’s best friend to one step away from being an incel and I am mourning the loss hard.

Here we have the one-offs, who I expected to play a much bigger role than they actually are. We have Tian Ye, who also is brand new to me having not existed in the Korean adaption. He’s a chef at a restaurant Shancai works in (before Si chases her away from it) and he’s the only goddamn person in this entire series so far who likes Shancai and hasn’t treated her badly. He actually tells Si to gtfo out of his restaurant and stands up to him for Shancai more than once. I loved him so much and I am so sad to see him go, but the reemergence of his ex(?) fiancee makes me hopeful he’ll show up again too.

Xiaozi is the girl Si’s mother tries to arrange for him to marry, and I was SO EXCITED for her because I LOVED her counterpart in Boys Over Flowers... but Meteor Garden has left me very disappointed indeed. She’s extremely wishy-washy about Si, saying first that she hates him and won’t marry him and doesn’t want anything to do with him and then in the same episode deciding that they’re going to date before their marriage and asking Shancai for advice. I really liked her for the first half of that episode and I feel like they just completely fucked up her character.

Jing is Lei’s childhood friend and ex girlfriend, and the only other person who is unconditionally nice to Shancai -- with the caveat that she’s a horrible cunt to Lei. At first all seems well. They seem to be very loving and in a committed relationship, but the more times she appears (and we have the chance to get to know her a lot better in 25 episodes than we did Seohyun in 40 something), the more it becomes clear that she’s only leading Lei on and doesn’t truly return his affections. She resurfaces in their lives just to drop a bomb on them -- “Hey I’m going to Paris and never coming back and also disowning myself from my family, okay bye!” -- and Lei actually drops everything in his entire life to go after her. The flashback we get of them in Paris is supposed to be cute, I think, with soft lighting and dreamy atmosphere, but it actually just shows Jing neglecting Lei to the point of cruelty until he decides he’s had enough and leaves. While we had almost an entire season before Seohyun announced her marriage to some Parisian dude, Jing does the same within the first fourth of 48 episodes, and it paints her in a horrible light. She destroyed Lei and doesn’t even feel bad about it, and we haven’t heard from her since.

These three don’t have character posters and that’s a damn shame. I must say, Si’s sister Zhuang (left) is JUST as badass as Junhee, and takes absolutely no shit from her brother -- but she isn’t here for very long. I think we saw her for, what?, two? three episodes? Junhee didn’t play a huge part in many episodes in Boys Over Flowers but she was still there a lot in the background, usually making quips at Junpyo or arguing with their mother. I hope Zhuang comes back.

Caina is a character who’s new to me and I think I’m enjoying her a lot. She was introduced in the same arc as Tian Ye, which makes sense as she is (and maybe no longer?) his fiancee through an arranged marriage. While the F4 were all congratulating Shancai for doing well in the cooking competition, Meizuo just sat there a little starstuck and talked about hooking up with Caina the entire time. WELL SHE COMES BACK in episode 24(or is it 23?) TO MY IMMENSE SHOCK, and apparently is into trash chic because she immediately jumps into a little arc with him. What concerns me though is how her extremely low alcohol tolerance, her blackout drunkenness around men, and her blackout-induced injuries are all treated as comedy. Meizuo and some creep fight over her for two entire episodes, and each time ends with her eating pavement and waking up hungover and extremely beat up from it. This show makes me fear for the safety of women in China, since Caina’s predicament is played for laughs. Also, what happened to Tian Ye??

And finally, there’s THIS BITCH. Si and Zhuang’s mother. She even looks like Zhuang (which means in-universe Si looks like his father, which is extra heartbreaking as his father is dead), and she is the biggest cunt I’ve had the delight to watch. I hate this bitch like I hate Dolores Umbridge. I thought Junpyo’s mom was bad but Si’s mom is ten thousand times worse. She’s cold and cruel and looks to humiliate Shancai whenever she can, and even her own son and Mrs Yu too. She’s literally just Umbridge as a mom except she doesn’t physically abuse her children. She’s the only person I can say I’m almost okay with being made more terrible than before, because the mom was always supposed to be horrible.

All in all, Meteor Garden should be subtitled “Everyone In This Show Is A Terrible Human Being, Except Shancai Who Can Do No Wrong.” And normally I enjoy shows about terrible people but this one isn’t a comedy like It’s Always Sunny or The Office. This is supposed to be some great epic love story between Shancai and Si and all I see is a girl who feels like she can’t voice her own opinion and tell a guy to back off, and a guy with rage issues who won’t back the fuck off.

I mean, I’m finishing the series, but... it’s definitely a challenge. At least the soundtrack is popping.

#ffamran watches stuff #meteor garden #long post #i just need to know what happens but i actively hate like everybody in this show #they're all horrible excuses for people #shancai deserves better

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lycorogue · 4 years ago

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Some Passing Thoughts on the New Miraculous Episodes

Finally got around to watching the fansubs of the Shanghai special and “Truth” (I’m still waiting for the other episodes to come out before watching Furious Fu).

Miraculous World: Shanghai – The Legend of Ladydragon

I have to say, I might change my mind later if the Prodigious proves to be more crucial to the overall lore of the series, but right now? Yeah. This special is a major skip for me.

I did not connect with Fei the way I fell in love with Jess and Aeon. I am so pissed at the set-up the writers came up with to GET Marinette to Shanghai; her reasoning is the most selfish thing we have ever seen her do and it is such an injustice to her character. Plus, it is like neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir learned anything from the New York trip as they both show up in Shanghai kind of spur of the moment (i.e. didn’t tell the other they were leaving Paris). In fact, Marinette - again, going back to my hatred for the setup to get her to China - didn’t even CONSIDER the fact that Paris would be left unprotected; that Ladybug would be MIA. Granted, it was stated that Hawk Moth was surprisingly inactive, but shouldn’t that put her on hyper-alert; waiting for the other shoe to drop and Hawky to release something big that he was building up to? Instead she just lowers her guard and doesn’t even consider her superhero duties when planning on following Adrien.

Another annoying thing is that the writers didn’t seem to learn anything from backlash against the episode “Kung Fu.” They just once again have Adrien be the one offering to teach Marinette Mandarin; not her mother (whose Chinese name Marinette never even knew), nor her great-uncle. Another writers flub was in the battle against Roi Argent. Ladybug questions Mei Shi’s suggestion that revenge does not equal justice (if that was translated properly), and... I’m pretty sure Marinette already showcased in previous episodes such as “Silencer” that she very much knows that revenge doesn’t equal justice??? She’s the one who corrected Chat Noir that Silencer coercing Bob Roth to admit he stole from Kitty Section and Marinette isn’t justice; it’s revenge. So???? HUH? NOW she magically feels like Fei’s revenge on Cash is justice for what he did to her?

If all of that wasn’t bad enough, the pacing of this special was in complete overdrive as well. You didn’t have any of those emotional moments - both heart breaking and fluff-bombs - that you had in the NY special. The focus was largely on Fei, and I didn’t even really like her. She didn’t have the heart and the fully-fleshed characterization that Jess or Aeon had.

I’m also confused about Gabriel spending the past 15 years planning this whole thing. HOW!? WHY!? This is before Adrien was even born, or VEEERY shortly after if we skipped over his 15th birthday in the series. This was LOOOOOOONG before Emilie’s illness, which is presumably why Gabriel started using the butterfly miraculous in the first place (as showcased by Gabe in Origins asking Nooroo to remind him how the powers even work before using them for the first time in a corrupted state on Adrien’s first day of public school). So, if getting the Great Power of the Prodigious was something he was planning on doing literally all of Adrien’s life, why present it as “I found something that can finally give me an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir”? I mean, what was his original endgame going to be? He couldn’t have possibly known that he’d be in dire need for the cat and ladybug jewels but struggled to take them from two teenage superheroes. It’s like the writers are trying to set him up as some mastermind akin to David Xanatos from Disney’s Gargoyles, but they are failing miserably. The whole Hawk Moth plot just doesn’t make sense to me.

Honestly? The only things that made this special worth it for me were: 1) Finding out a bit more about Sabine and her family (I love that she probably picked the name Sabine because it sounded like the pronunciation of her Chinese name) 2) Seeing Gorilla be his action figure nerd self a bit more (and the action figures of Uncanny Valley and Eagle) 3) Mei Shi in Renling (?) form, who was hella adorable! I need him as a plushie STAT 4) Adrien being the precious bean that he is. Just every moment he’s on screen was adorable (complete with him STILL having the picture of Marinette that was sent to him in “Evillustrator” saved to his baton and using that to try to find her) 5) Seeing the world through the eyes of a kwami for the first time and learning a touch more non-crucial lore 6) Mei Shi in statue form reminding me of the Dragon costume on The Masked Singer.

(I know, seeing them side-by-side now, they really aren’t that similar after all, but it’s been about a year since Dragon was on The Masked Singer, and he’s still what I kept thinking of as I watched Mei Shi on screen)

While I obsessively watched the New York special at least a dozen times, I’m really only seeing myself re-watch this special once more when it’s in English, and maybe whenever I do a full-series binge (which is super rare that I take the time for that).

Not impressed. Sorry.

Truth

“Truth”, on the other hand? Hhhhhnnnnnngggg. My heart! It breaks! Poor Marinette. Poor poor Luka. I mean, silver linings at the end there, but also BIG OOF. (Also, why wasn’t Adrien around at all whenever Truth made people confess that Marinette’s secret was her love for Adrien? xDDD)

I’m also a bit confused about the Adrien pictures. She had them taken down pretty much since “Troublemaker”, and yet her walls are once more papered with Adrien’s likeness now that Marinette is trying to get over him and date Luka? How does THAT make any sense outside of the writers going “we need an awkward phone call between Marinette and Luka. Oh! I know! A picture of her Adrien-covered bedroom walls is accidentally sent to Luka!” >3> Also.... what is UP with Luka’s animation again!? The kid was so pale it’s like they forgot to add any color to his model in this episode. WHY CAN’T THEY JUST ANIMATE MY PRECIOUS SON LOOKING HANDSOME EVER!? FIRST NO EYELASHES, AND NOW NO SKIN TONE!? WHYYYYYYYYY!? Personally, I prefer “Silencer” to “Truth” both in overall story and in Luka’s akumatized form design. Also, side note, did anyone else notice that Ladybug was hit by Luka’s attack and couldn’t speak for most of the battle both times? And that she needed Chat Noir to help her set up her Lucky Charm both times? And that Luka’s drive both times was to get to the truth?

I did still enjoy this episode very much. It showcases the new stresses Marinette has to face (totally unfair; I agree. However, it’s a standard trope in most teenage superhero stories such as Teen Titans and Spider-Man, so I was expecting it). It showcases how hard it is for her to figure out a balance between life and superheroing (again, re: standard teen-superhero trope). The fans get confirmation on a fantheory that’s been circling pretty much since Luka was introduced (ESPECIALLY after the episode “Desperada”). The Ladynoir shippers are well fed, and it’s great to see LB and CN praise each other - including Ladybug’s love of Chat Noir’s humor.

I hope this isn’t the end of us seeing Luka in the show (that would break my heart even more) and it feels lame to build up the Lukanette “love rival” arc only for it to die off before it really goes anywhere. There was so much story potential there where Marinette could grow to learn what it truly means to be in love, and not just idolize and romanticize someone you’re infatuated with. Instead, all she learned is that she is alone aside from Chat Noir, and I feel like that’s SUUUUPER railroading the Ladynoir ship. And, frankly, I’d much prefer to see the Ladynoir side grow naturally, as it has been, instead of forcing Marinette’s hand because Chat Noir is the only one she can be MOSTLY honest with (secret identities notwithstanding).

It’s been a long hiatus. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to dodge fandom salt, but still get a larger dose than I intended to have in my fandom diet, so maybe my views are a bit tainted from that. However, this special and season premiere feel a bit like the writers are stumbling. I don’t know if the pandemic somehow affected their writing flow, or if they feel pressured by the fans to tell the series’ story a certain way and are scrambling to do so, or if they are rushing to an ending instead of taking their time and letting it naturally unfold as they had with the first few seasons. But, regardless of their reason, I hope they re-find themselves; the ones who told great stories in seasons 1 and 2 and (poor writing for Marinette notwithstanding) really good stories in season 3. I hope they can step up their game for the remainder of season 4.

It’s been a long break, and we all deserve something good to feed us. We don’t need another GoT or HIMYM final season. Especially when this isn’t even supposed to BE the final season of the series.

Guess it’s time to wait for “Lies” to come out, and hope for the best.

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ilkkawhat · 4 years ago

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For the SOULMATE Alphabet prompt, can I ask E or ESP for Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver please? All these prompts sound like so much fun!

[be gentle with me it’s been like. years since i’ve written these two. i’m being dramatic it’s only been three months.]

There’s one reason and one reason only Jack and Mac would allow themselves to be apart for long times at long distances, and that reason was something that even all of the infinite science in Mac’s brain, all of the infinite wisdom in Jack’s heart couldn’t even explain.

They figured it out when they had parted ways after Lake Como. Both had been too injured to realize that the pain they were feeling—on top of what they were already feeling—was each other’s. Mac thought the pain in his head was his mind overworking itself trying to reconcile Nikki’s (supposed) death. Jack thought the pain in his chest was the early signs of a heart attack, not uncommon in his family.

They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a month. Mac was finally out of the hospital, Jack was at his apartment. Jack didn’t quite know what to do, give the kid space or hover over him as an emotional Overwatch support, but he ultimately figured that Bozer would tend to him and that he would just pop by for a visit—which never happened because every time he thought of going, there was a forcefield of guilt that kept him from passing through the unlocked threshold to Mac’s house.

Mac, meanwhile, thought it was bad enough that he lost Nikki, he didn’t want to lose Jack, too. His fingers would constantly key over Jack’s number in his phone that he had memorized forwards and backwards. But he didn’t want to bother him. Figured that he was busy with a new job cause the older man was always working non-stop, as much as he would “complain” about the mundaneness of a nine-to-five job; all the paperwork and meetings and lack of an appropriate amount of sick days or whining for a raise, he knew that really Jack just wanted to keep himself busy, occupied.

Or otherwise he’d end up where Mac thought he was in that moment, on a couch, wrapped up in a bathrobe.

“Jack?” Mac gasped himself awake from an almost-nap. He sat up and threw his hand to his side, expecting it to land on Jack’s shoulder, or knee, or just any part of his body that would elicit some witty remark, “the lights go out in those bright eyes of yours, hoss?”

His hand didn’t touch anything. But he definitely felt Jack there with him, on his couch. Smelled him, too. And he was overcome with some strange...sadness. Remorse. It wasn’t a foreign emotion to him at the time, so he had sort of shrugged it off, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, that the pain meds were too strong.

And then Jack woke him up with a phone call.

“Were you just at my house?” his tone was laced with the usual paranoia that came when anything was out of place at his apartment, but there was an odd sort of seriousness and urgency that Mac felt, too.

“No. Did you come here?”

“No, not since I drove by last night to drop off some pizza and beer.”

“That was you? Why didn’t you come in?”

“Boze said you were sleepin’ and I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Well...you woke me up now,” Mac smiled though he knew Jack couldn’t see it.

Yet in a way, he could.

“What is going on here, hoss? It-it’s like you’re sitting right in front of me.”

“I don’t know. You wanna come over? Maybe we can sit by the fire and try to figure it out together.”

“Aight. Be there in ten.”

Jack lived fifteen minutes away.

They sat by the fire and once they passed by the awkward small talk they were able to properly catch up; though Mac didn’t have much to offer with the bed rest he had been sentenced to, but was pleased to announce that he would be beginning his rehab. Jack, meanwhile, got a gig being a stunt coordinator—disguising the fact with a cough that he was also partaking in some of the more dangerous stunts himself.

It was good that it happened, a brief reunion before a more permanent one that came months later when they got to go back to work together, the small steps leading to a true recovery of a slightly tarnished friendship in the face of a failed mission.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

They don’t feel anything unexpected, again, thinking it was just their own emotions they were waving through and the yearning for each other’s presence, but one of the first times they were separated, it was stronger than ever before.

And it wasn’t even that big of a separation. Just a few feet. A couple more feet. Maybe the length of a basketball court, at most. Mac moving backwards. Jack standing still. Jack could feel the panic rising within Mac as he scrambled to defuse the bomb Jack was standing on. Mac could feel the sheer dread and terror pouring out of the sweat beads on Jack’s skin.

The stakes hadn’t been so high since Mac had to disarm a bomb within an impossible amount of seconds back at the sandbox—and in hindsight, he can’t help but wonder if that’s when they had formed this new sort of...bond.

Jack must have figured it out too, because the next time it happened, just a week or so later, it came after Mac had been taken and drugged by the cartel. Jack was in full on rescue mode, dressed from head to toe in tactical gear—but he had to remove the helmet when he felt like he had some sort of mask smothered on top of his face. And then he felt lightheaded. And then he felt...woozy.

He pushed through it to save Mac—and in seeing Mac the odd sensation had washed away but when Mac told him that’s exactly what he felt when he was put under, the pieces were put together in Jack’s head.

“What kind of Vulcan mind-meld shit is this!?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s like we’re getting into each other’s heads, a-and feeling each other when we’re apart.”

“You can admit it Jack, you just miss seein’ your sunshine boy,” Mac had waved him off with a poor imitation of his accent.

“I’m serious, buddy this is...this is real. I-I don’t know how to explain it but it’s like we’re...we’re…”

“Soulmates?”

“Yeah! That’s the word.”

“How romantic.”

Jack couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt by Mac’s downplay of his emotions, their emotions over their new transcended level of connection he never thought he would have with another man, let alone another person in his life.

But Mac would soften when his emotions got cranked to eleven.

It was their first real argument since the Sandbox. Jack tracking Mac down to Paris—which, with this new sixth sense of being able to feel Mac wherever he was when he wasn’t with Jack, he didn’t need to work as hard but he still explained how easy it was to track him down, even without their newfound “special powers,” as Jack claimed them to be—and beyond the confusion he was secretly pleased to have such an ability, harkening back to his childhood days of reading comic books and jumping off couches with a bedsheet cape on his back.

They both felt each other’s resentment, each other’s anger, until Jack calmed down when Mac called an apologized. He let Mac’s voice go to voicemail, but followed his call like he was lured by a siren.

Even though he tried to joke about a “groveling apology” that he knew Mac wasn’t actually going to give him despite the actual upset he had felt and truly wanted to apologize for to Jack, Jack entered the house knowing something was wrong.

Because he couldn’t feel Mac at all. Couldn’t feel him joking around with Bozer. Couldn’t feel him lost and searching for a deadbeat father who abandoned him—a sensation Jack didn’t quite understand until he felt Mac reliving it in his worst nights. Couldn’t feel him happy to be with the Phoenix family.

Mac’s house was as empty as Jack felt, and he was on the verge of losing it like never before—until he felt a cold shiver creep through is body. Felt a sharp prick, felt like his body was being pumped and drained at the same time.

Felt fear mixed with anger mixed with...vague...intrigue and the last time he felt it, Jack was at the mercy of a small red dot boring into his chest while Mac played the most dangerous game of cat and mouse.

And this time, he was the mouse.

“My spidey-senses are all telling me the same thing...It’s Murdoc.”

He hoped and prayed that he could somehow ease Mac’s terror with his own determination to find him. He swallowed down his tears, swallowed down his guilt for the sake of giving the kid some sort of hope with a forced sense of confidence that he would find him in no time.

And no time is exactly what he felt. What they both felt. Jack’s confidence turned to confusion when Mac no longer felt trapped, but instead...lost. And paranoid. Even more paranoid than Jack himself.

So lost that even when they physically found each other, it still seemed like forever until they emotionally found each other again, with more and more separations, more victimizations on their more deadly missions with gunshots and electrocutions and gas chambers. Fits of inexplicable rage and jealousy as they explored other interests besides each other. Odd sensations of loneliness when they weren’t working together.

Even when they were actually trapped together in Mac’s house, sitting on another bomb, it took them a whole episode of reminiscing how they got together in the first place that made them realize how no matter how often they would be lost from one another, they would always find each other, even in their worst moments.

And it was after that near miss they both exchanged real apologies. Mac admitted that perhaps this “mind meld” was real after all. Jack said “having you stuck with me ain’t so bad after all. Toldja I’m never gonna leave you, there’s definitely no getting rid of me now.”

“But...what’s going to happen when...one of us dies?” Mac didn’t even want to ask it. Didn’t actually even say the words.

Jack asked the same thing when he was prematurely laid to rest in a burning coffin, descending into hell and screaming for Mac both in the literal sense and the emotional sense—so much so that Mac could hardly take it—he felt like he was on fire and oh god, he actually was as he put his hands on the burning wood and freed Jack from inferno.

“Being burned alive...was always curious,” Jack breathed, putting a hand that oddly felt ablaze on his chest, while Mac danced on figurative hot coals.

“You’re insane, man.”

“I don’t think death is the end,” Jack answered him finally, when they were being wrapped up by the paramedics.

“How much smoke did you inhale?” Mac almost laughed, confused as to what he was referring to, thinking he had some sort of existential realization on the precipice of death.

“But wh-what if when one of us dies...the other will too? Kaboom-kaboom,” Mac continued the conversation after a particularly rough day spent in the war room with a beaten, sunken black eye while Jack ran around pretending to be a lone wolf yet he was wrangling up the pack and doing a favor by helping out his daughter’s real father, the conflicting emotions of which didn’t ease Mac’s troubles, either.

“Told ya, that won’t be it. There’s gonna be something after kaboom. For both of us.”

“Then why do you always fight so hard for us not to explode?”

“Cause I can’t let you have too much fun when you’re dropping those improv-bombs to get us out of sticky situations. There’s still a few things I wanna do before I move on from this world.”

“Right, your bucket list,” Mac smiled.

“Exactly, hoss. And what’s say...we cross another one off now?”

They were interrupted, as always, by an emergency call that revealed the truth about Mac’s father, and a falsification of how they had been brought together.

“Who do you think pulled the strings to pair you two together in Afghanistan?”

Bullshit. And Jack made a point of pointing that out, and how dare he even make the implication that even if things didn’t work out between Jack and Mac, that there would just be another Overwatch put in his place, and another, until Oversight saw fit that his son would be taken care of like he never had done for him before?

Needless to say, there were a lot of emotions, conflicting ones at that—even Jack himself was torn between sucking up to the boss but also wanting to punch him in the face, and do minor things like refuse handshakes, accidentally trip him, anything to just...annoy him without a fireable offense, per se.

But when Mac left the Phoenix, he may as well have gone, too.

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t. Was it some sense of duty to protect the remainder of the pack? Was it the same hesitation he had when Mac took his leave of absence after Nikki’s death, wanting to give him space but still wanting to suffocate him at the same time?

Was it fear that one day, Mac would walk away from him, too?

While the separation was brief, only a few months though it felt like years—especially when Jack felt the length of Mac’s hair on his own chin that allowed him to measure the actual length of time that had elapsed, when they came face to face again it still felt like they were worlds apart.

Because Mac abandoned his family.

Mac abandoned Jack.

And in what godforsaken world would that happen?

The same world where Jack would do the same almost half a year later.

“NO!” Mac shouted, rising from another cold-sweat nightmare.

Jack laid beside him, startled awake.

“Everything okay, hoss?” Jack whispered.

“Just...just...had a bad dream,” Mac whispered back.

They would keep their voices low, but their emotions high. There were certain things that just had to be said to be understood as felt between them.

“I missed you,” Mac gulped.

“You know I’m right here, don’t ya?” Jack laughed from his own bed, Mac felt a gentle scratching at the back of his head.

“I know. I know you’re here, it’s just…”

He turned his head, he didn’t even know why he was whispering, the house had never been so silent before. No snoring Bozer. No Jack strumming the guitar on a restless night. No keys clicking beneath the speed of Riley’s rapid fingers. No phonecalls from Matty.

“You’re not. Not even alive.”

“Who in the hell told you that?”

“The...the army.”

Mac’s phone rang, he answered without even looking at the number. The ring was for a video call, so he lazily pulled the string of his bedside lamp.

Jack was on the other side, soft fauxhawk and subtle stubble tracing the start of a beard on his face.

“My God, what fucked up dream did you have, man?”

“The kind that lasts forever,” Mac mumbled. “That felt...too real…”

“I turned down the Kovac mission, you remember that, right? The image was fake. Just a taunt. The broadcast orchestrated by Murdoc just to dick around with us again.”

“I know, I know it just...I can’t help but wonder what could have...could have happened if you…”

“You gotta stop beating yourself up so much, kid. I’ve told you, over and over, this ain’t one of those ‘you hurt me, so I’mma hurt you’ sort of games. We don’t do that manipulative shit.”

“Jack, I left you—”

“You left the Phoenix. I stayed. My choice.”

Jack suddenly felt the corners of his eyes burn. The corner of Mac’s eyes burn.

“I wanted you to come with me.”

“I know. And I wanted to.”

“I know,” Mac swallowed. “I...I felt that you did but...why didn’t you?”

“You walked away that day but you didn’t walk alone. I was there with you the entire time. You know that.”

“But you weren’t!”

“You’re right. You’re right,” Jack shook his head, squeezing his face. He waved his tongue over his lips, Mac suddenly felt freshness over the chapped flesh that was trembling as he held the tiny screen of Jack in between his hands.

“I...I knew how you felt, being abandoned by your Dad...Cause I did that to Riley.”

“You didn’t...abandon her—”

“Then what would you have called it?”

It was a question Mac didn’t have an answer to.

“Regardless, I think it’s safe to say that you’re not the only one with abandonment issues, I’m just...on the other side of the spectrum. Worlds apart from the pain you musta felt when dear ol’ Dad leftcha and I shouldn’ta tried to push you back together without thinking how you might have felt—”

“Jack, Jack, it’s fine. I-I know you just...you had good intentions. Cause of what happened to your Dad.”

Jack nodded, wiped a hand over the running nose that Mac felt, though his was dry.

“And anyway, I just. I was scared, I guess. Didn’t know what to do. Hadn’t been on that side of the coin before. It may have hurt you but it...it hurt me, too.”

“I know it did. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“So...where do we go from here?” Mac asked, clearing his throat.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Cause no matter where you go, where I go, where we both go...We have each other.”

Mac felt Jack’s touch, though it was a poor substitute for the real deal, as he closed his eyes and envisioned him sitting next to him, his arms wrapped around him, hugging him to his chest.

“Forever,” Mac sighed, and Jack smiled as he felt the reassurance that while it had been stretched and twisted and tested, their bond would never be broken.

Not even in a death that Jack oddly felt he had just narrowly missed by some sort of guardian angel watching over him.

#nonny #macgyver fic #macdalton #angus macgyver #jack dalton #mk.op #mk.fic #ya know if a certain thing didn't happen in canon this fic would have ended a lot differently but i just #i couldn't #only happy endings for jack from now on i don't make the rules #though i know i really have no right to be here anymore lol

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