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ikeromantic · 5 days

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Nanny Belle and the Midnight Princes pt2

Nanny Belle does her best to keep her favorite little princes entertained, while welcoming the kids from Jade, Benitoite, and Obsidian too. Diplomatic crises, chaos, and cuteness everywhere! Approx. 2800 words

“Can I help you?” Nanny Belle put herself between the dangerous looking Obsidianite and the princes, wondering how he got past the nursery guards. She didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, but she wasn’t letting just anyone stroll in.

“I need to check the room. Out of the way.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you past. You aren’t on the guest list.” Belle stood her ground, trying to see behind him so she could signal a guard.

The man’s hand brushed his hip as if he was used to carrying a weapon. “Move, or -”

“Don’t be such a bully. The Rhodolitian princes aren’t going to murder me. I’m in less danger here than home.” A small, pale boy stepped past the man, and surveyed the room. His eye lit on Chevalier and a smile spread across his lips. “There you are.”

“Not you again,” Chev groaned.

Nanny Belle knew who he must be. The younger Obsidian prince, Gilbert. He wore an eyepatch, and carried a small, worn plush bunny rabbit. “Prince Gilbert. Be welcome.”

The little boy’s one uncovered eye scanned her as if she were a page in a picture book. It felt as if he peeled back her polite smile and proper manners, to see right inside her to the real person underneath. It was unnerving. “Thanks! I’m gonna go play with my best friend.”

Behind her, she heard Chevalier sigh. “That’s wonderful.” Belle wasn’t sure what kind of play Gilbert meant. Chev didn’t like children’s games, but she hoped whatever he wanted to do, the two of them would have fun. It would be good to have someone that could pull the quiet blonde prince from his shell.

Prince Gilbert plopped himself down beside Chevalier and pulled out a book of his own. “Have you read this one?”

Belle didn’t get to hear Chevalier’s reply as the Obsidian serving man took her attention again.

“I will be here, by the door. Watching.” The man’s grim voice felt out of place in the brightly decorated room, with the laughter of children as counterpoint. “Should anything happen -”

“Walter, leave the nanny alone.” Prince Gilbert’s voice was anything but childlike as he addressed his servant, one bright scarlet eye fixing the man from across the room.

Walter, the servant, bowed low and gave Nanny Belle a nod. Then he stepped to the side, just in time for Clavis to come barrelling through the door with a young girl in close pursuit.

“Stop right there! Stop! Someone stop him!” The little girl skidded to a halt just past the doorway as Clavis tucked himself behind Nanny Belle’s skirt.

“Princess Mirielle, why are you chasing Prince Clavis?” Nanny Belle knew who the girl was the moment she opened her mouth. The slight Jadean accent combined with her fine clothes and imperious manner left just the one option.

“I can answer that.” Sariel followed a little ways behind the girl. He had another child with him. A small boy, about Luke’s age, with the Jadean royal look about him. Golden eyes and light, olive toned hair. He had some bright colored goo around his mouth, as if he’d tried to eat a particularly vibrant crayon.

Princess Mirielle stomped her foot. “That - that monster tried to poison my baby brother!”

Sariel’s lips curved up in a tiny smile before he caught them and forced his expression back to one of severe neutrality. “Prince Clavis, is this correct?”

Clavis, hanging tightly to Belle’s skirt, peeked around her to look at the councillor. “No! I just made him a snack. But the cookies we found were boring, so - so I added some stuff. But it’s not poisonous!”

“And what did you add to make the cookies . . . not boring?” Sariel’s left brow rose a fraction.

“Umm . . . some rhubarb custard because it was such a nice color pink, and a dollop of caviar, and a pickled herring! I was going to put a strawberry on top but I couldn’t find any.” Clavis smiled brightly, clearly proud of his efforts. “It was the most funnest thing I ever tasted!”

Nanny Belle kept a sigh on the inside. “I see. Thank you for telling us Prince Clavis. But next time you want to share a special snack with a new friend, you need to check with me, ok? Prince Tio might not like the same foods you do, or he might be allergic.”

Mirielle stomped her little foot again. “It was disgusting! I demand he be punished!”

Sariel didn’t miss a beat. “You have my word that there will be consequences, princess. I will see to it myself. But for tonight, please let bygones be bygones.”

She looked as if she might argue, but Prince Keith stepped in, a gentle smile on his face. “Come on, sis. Tio is just fine. Right, Tio?” He ruffled his brother’s hair affectionately.

Prince Tio laughed and hugged his big brother. “Yep!”

Mirielle relented, though she still gave Clavis a suspicious glare as she walked past him to the toy chest in the corner.

Belle shared a look with Sariel. This was going to be a challenging evening. She was intensely glad for the servants helping out through the room, but it was up to her to keep all these little royal kidlings entertained until the party ended.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Sariel mouthed silently, his gaze warm. Aloud he said, “I trust you have it from here. I will be back later to check in.” He gave her a slight bow, and hurried out, back to his duties.

Nanny Belle turned to take in the scattered children. Leon was still on the balcony, looking wistfully toward the ballroom. The lights and music from the celebration carried all the way across the palace grounds. Luke was sitting and munching happily on a honey roll, while Gilbert chattered to Chevalier in the corner.

Prince Keith was showing his siblings the telescope on the balcony under the suspicious gaze of Licht. Nokto was smiling at Princess Mirielle, while Yves played quietly with a set of toy soldiers at a table. Jin was drawing in his sketch pad, glancing up occasionally to check on his brothers. And Clavis - where was Clavis? He’d been right behind her.

Just as Belle was about to panic over a lost prince, one of the guards came in with the missing boy tucked under his arm. “My lady, this one was trying to follow Sariel out. Where should I set him down?”

“On the bench there, where I can see him.” Nanny Belle gave the prince a sharp look. “Prince Clavis, you know you are meant to stay here at our party.”

He gave a heavy sigh, shoulders falling. “I just wanted to go help Sariel. He said he’s real busy tonight.”

Belle could tell he was genuine in his desire, even though Clavis’ help often made more work than it ever resolved. Still . . . “I see. Well . . . would you be willing to help me tonight instead? I’m quite overwhelmed with all these foreign dignitaries here.”

Clavis studied her with his bright gold gaze, then grinned broadly. “I will be the best helper ever!”

“Wonderful.” Nanny Belle ruffled his hair. “Since nearly everyone is here, I think we should play a fun game. Would you help me set up a place for duck-duck-goose?”

“Yes!” Clavis clapped his hands together. “I’ll get some cushions!”

Belle watched him race off to get started. She intended to keep a close eye on him, but just then one of the maids brought Rio in from his nap. The little blonde moppet looked every part a little prince, in a blue velvet onesie with an adorable light blue sash and fancy cufflinks.

Rio smiled when he saw the nanny and held out his arms to her.

“Aren’t you just a cutie?” Nanny Belle took him from the maid, listening as she gave a quick update on him. She thanked the maid and then turned back to check on Clavis. The cushions were all laid out and ready for duck-duck-goose. She didn’t see anything obviously suspicious about them either, but went to check anyway.

Clavis hurried to her, stepping right in front of the arranged cushions. “Did I do a good job, Nanny?”

“It looks great.” She eyed the little prince, trying not to look suspicious. “Why don’t you let everyone know it’s time to play a game, hm?”

“Yes!” Clavis raced off, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Time for duck-duck-goose!”

Belle leaned down and lifted one of the cushions, checking it for the usual. Itching powder, sticky jam, dye . . . it seemed completely clear. She set it down, mildly surprised. “Alright. I guess he really did just set these out like I asked. Hm.” She put Rio down on the one she checked as the other kids came over.

“I heard you the first time,” Jin sighed, as he came strolling over.

“Yeah. First time,” Luke echoed, putting a little, sticky fist on his hip.

Prince Keith came over, with Mirielle and Tio in tow. Mirielle went for the fanciest cushion on the floor. It was light green, with delicate lace stitched across the cover in a floral pattern. The moment she sat down, a loud toot sounded from beneath her.

Mirielle jumped up, her cheeks stained bright red. “That wasn’t me!”

Keith was looking at her with raised eyebrows, unsure how to react, while Tio giggled. Jin was struggling to keep his expression neutral, but Luke wasn’t old enough to understand and he was laughing too.

Belle didn’t need to guess what happened. She could see Clavis’ grin from across the room. She hurried over and knelt down to pull a leather sack from under the pillow. It was supposed to be used as a bed warmer, with hot water, but someone had filled it with air and left the valve open just enough to make noise when it was squeezed. “Ah! I was looking for that. I am so sorry Princess Mirielle. I don’t know how it found its way under your pillow.”

The princess crossed her arms. She clearly wanted more, but was struggling with her emotions.

Keith came to her rescue. He grabbed the bed warmer from Belle’s hand and stuck it under his pillow, then sat down hard to expel the last of the air from it in a loud, obnoxious honk. This set Tio to laughing even harder, and even the other princes cracked a smile. “Oh! Now I’ve done it too!”

Mirielle looked at him, and then at the other princes. She seemed to consider whether or not she should stay angry, then sighed and sat down carefully. “Fine. But I don’t forgive whoever did that.”

“Yes. Whoever that might be,” Chevalier commented from his reading spot.

“Aren’t you going to come play,” Leon asked.

“Absolutely not. I have no interest in such a ridiculous game.” Chev looked back down at his book.

Gilbert stood up from beside him. “I’d like to play.”

At this, his servant Walter took a step forward. “I can’t allow that. This game -”

“Can’t allow?” Gilbert’s red gaze fixed on his servant. Some silent struggle continued between the two of them. Nothing was said, just a long, intense look.

Walter’s face went red, staining him from eartip to eartip. He bowed his head, looking down.

Gilbert said nothing for several tense moments, then sat again. “I’d rather read with Chevalier anyway. I’m too old for duck-duck-goose.”

His servant didn’t respond, but his posture evinced a deep relief.

Belle wasn’t sure what was going on between them, or why it should matter if the little Obsidian prince played the game or not. Despite Gilbert’s dismissive tone, she had a feeling he really did want to play and decided she would find a game for him tonight, one way or another.

Once everyone but Chevalier and Gilbert were seated in the circle, Jin agreed to be the first goose. He stalked around the other children, a big smile on his face. “Duck . . . duck . . . duck . . .” When he got to Emidio, he tapped him and shouted, “GOOSE!”

Emidio leapt up and chased him around the circle, just a hair too slow to catch the first prince before Jin slid into his seat. “I almost had you!”

“Almost,” Jin agreed.”

Yves snorted. “Almost doesn’t count in duck-duck-goose.”

“Almost doesn’t count in anything,” Nokto added.

“Let’s all be kind while we play our games, hm?” Belle intervened before the boys could get out of hand.

It was clear that Emidio’s pride was stung, but there was nothing to do for it now. Belle watched as he made his way around the circle, tapping each person. “Duck. Duck. Duck.” When he got to Rio, he poked a little harder than necessary and shouted “Goose!”

Poor Rio, barely old enough to understand the game, struggled to his feet. He rubbed the back of his head, lower lip trembling. Just as Belle was about to step in, he lurched after Emidio. Of course, he had no chance to catch the older boy. Emidio plopped down in Rio’s spot a moment later, leaving the toddler to continue the game.

Belle wasn’t sure if he quite understood, but Rio surprised her with a gap-toothed grin. Then he started his own walk around. “Du-du-duh-”

“Duck, ya moron,” Silvio snapped. “D-u-c-k. Duck. Why’re we letting this idiot pup play anyway?”

Rio slapped the back of Silvio’s head and shouted, “Goose!” Then ran pell-mell around the circle, practically falling into Silvio’s spot as the Benitiotian prince reacted with surprise.

It was the first time Belle ever saw Rio do something . . . mean. He’d been careful tapping the other kids, but the slap to Silvio’s head was definitely not accidental. She couldn’t exactly blame him though. Silvio was quite rude.

“That - snot nosed little - I demand he be punished! Ya can’t just slap a prince!” Silvio’s voice was shrill and his jewelry jangled as he gesticulated at the toddler who now sat smugly in his spot in the circle.

Belle curtsied. “I’m sorry, Prince Silvio, on behalf of Rio. He’s still growing and isn’t always very coordinated.”

Silvio looked like he might say more, but all the other royalty were looking at him. After a moment, he deflated, grumbling under his breath. Then he started around the circle.

Nanny Belle was a little worried he would try to revenge himself on Rio, but instead he tagged Leon, who gamely went for Keith. Keith grinned when he was declared goose.

“I’m not very good at these kinds of games, but let’s see . . .” Keith went around the circle twice, pretending to ignore his little brother who obviously wanted to be tagged next. When he ‘goosed’ Tio, the little prince leapt up with a happy grin and chased his older brother around the circle, just a hair too slow to catch him even though it was clear that Keith wasn’t really trying to escape.

Tio giggled when Keith plopped down in his spot. “Oh no! Now I get . . . umm . . .” Tio’s eyes went wide as he realized his predicament. He could pick his sister, Luke, Licht, or Nokto. Mirielle arched an expectant brow, but Tio went around her with a quiet ‘duck’, and passed Licht and Nokto as well. He got to Luke and the two little ones exchanged a wide, expectant grin. “Goots!”

Luke wobbled to his feet and the two of them chased each other around the room, running wide of the circle on their chubby toddler feet.

“Hey! That’s not fair! That’s cheating!” Emidio glared at the two little ones.

Licht sighed and shook his head. “It’s not cheating unless it gives an advantage. They just aren’t playing the game right.”

Belle shooed the two back toward the circle, but their flight around the room effectively ended the game. Thankfully, it was dark enough outside to guide them out to the balcony, where they could take turns on the telescope.

Even Chevalier and Gilbert joined the group for this event, excited to get to see the stars through the refractory lenses. Nanny Belle watched them with a cautious eye, making sure everyone got a turn, adjusting the telescope as needed while the stars marched across the velvet black sky.

The party in the ballroom was still going strong. Music echoed from the open windows, and the sound of laughter. Belle was glad she didn’t need to attend such events. The bickering nobles and the moody king held no allure for her. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Jin and Chevalier would be required to attend. And where Chevalier went, Clavis would follow.

Clavis.

Her eyes darted around the balcony. He wasn’t waiting to look through the telescope. When had he . . . then she remembered. Just as everyone else sat down to play, where he’d positioned the pillows well away from the door, Clavis had slipped away.

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince au #ikepri kids #nanny belle #fanfiction #otome #fanfic #otome guys #fluff

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ginevralinton · 8 months

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Have a very quick Chess-Husbands-Julian-POV-Ramble-Thing that I don't have the energy to think of a title for or to edit

(sorry for any mistakes in this)

No Getting Feelings had been part of the contract, right from the beginning. He’d set it out, clear and simple: No Feelings, No Commitment, and No Special Treatment.

He hadn’t been worried about himself, obviously. Let’s be honest, this was Julian Fawcett, former MP (disgraced), whose cold, decrepit heart had (literally) given up on him, getting it off with an actual caveman, who sometimes chased squirrels like a dog.

No Getting Feelings – perfectly easy for him, perhaps a bit harder for Robin who got attached to the moon and mice and various people who’d long been sucked off (perhaps in more than one way, Julian hadn’t got round to asking yet), but all in all, not too difficult because the caveman was, well, a caveman, who’d seen everything, lost most things, and dismissed Christmas, weddings, government, and canapes as silly fads. (There really was no convincing him on the merits of bite-sized, caviar crostini or a devilled egg – would leave me starving – yes, that’s the point, all the more room for the wine-dinner – would rather eat bum – I’m sure you would).

Really, the whole thing had just been a formality, a little precaution – look, Julian had been caught out before. And yeah, he was dead, but that didn’t mean other dead people couldn’t make you after-life into hell – or, you know, a precursor to hell, if this was purgatory. He’d just said it, because that’s what you – he – did when anything like this started anyway. No Feelings, No Special Treatment, No Commitment – the big three – and sure, there were a few others (No Sleeping in My Bed – broken after two weeks; No Suggestive Looks in Company – dismissed after a month or so, because honestly, some people were dense) – but it was important to get those three in straight off.

And look, Julian had intended to keep to the contact – but, well, you know, it was like the Great British public always said, like what the BBC, and every journalist were always reminding everyone: never trust a word a politician says.

In his defence, he really hadn’t thought it would require any effort to stick to the rules. He really hadn’t considered that games of chess, finding the same things funny, doing some actual stargazing, and dipping into a few too many deep-tragic-conversations might actually dredge something up in him besides his basic need to get off.

Still, stranger things have happened – men on the moon, The Green Party getting seats, that time in Amsterdam with the contortionist – becoming a ghost. All of that to say, yes, it did come as a bit of a shock when half-way through some god-awful Music Club, Julian had found himself not wincing at Pat rendition of Fernando, but looking over at Robin, who was absolutely into the performance, like he was with most music, come to think of it, because let it be said, the caveman’s taste was anything that made a kind-of-vaguely-musical-sound, and yes, Julian was trying to refine this a bit, but back to the point. He was looking over at Robin, all in his element, and then, he was having this warm, gooey feeling, the kind of feeling that could only be compared to a menu trying to tempt you into getting the caramel brownie sundae over the cheese board or the expresso with a shot of whatever liquor was on offer – except, well, this time, Julian was swayed.

Alright, so it wasn’t that simple and he’d be doing some creative photoshopping of the truth if he was to suggest it was all mushy-lovey-dovey from that moment on. Yes, he had a good few oh-god-oh-god-oh-god moments, two months of trying to avoid Robin (easier than you’d think, living in the same house and all), a false declaration of being sick-to-death-or-whatever-the-already-dead-equivalent-was of chess, and then a simple demand of what is your big problem now?, a whole bunch of rambling and walking in literal and verbal circles, and an actual crackling of lightening, a clap of thunder, a moment of forgetting they were dead and seeking shelter in the old gatehouse – four-walls, a bed, dry at least, even though it didn’t matter anymore – a brief conversation and then it was all settled in their own way – and no, Julian would not be making any further comment at this time – because no, it wasn’t that kind of story, or that one – and look, if you were to fall into the after-life with a bottle of something decent – or even not, at this point – then he’d probably tell you.

All that to say this: this thing – him and the caveman – had not been part of the plan – had not been part of the deal at all, but he should have known better really, because say what you like about Julian Fawcett, former-MP (disgraced), but know, if you ever need someone without any scruples to break a contract, he’s your man.

#bbc ghosts #my writing #fanfic?#kind of #idk what this is really #chess husbands #julian fawcett #robin #possibly awful oh well have it anyway

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 9 months

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Sakura Blossom Confessions (Gin x Byakuya)

A/N: So this is an update to an anon ask I received asking for a HC about how Gin and Byakuya fall in love (here). But I couldn’t help myself and it ended up turning into a one-shot. I did make an HC post earlier about Byakuya X Gin ships, and I’d like to think this is the more fleshed out version.

Rating: E. Nothing explicit, a lot of sarcasm, mocking, Gin being mean to Byakuya ^_^ Pairing: Gin X Byakuya Word Count: 8053 (phew!) Unedited, apologies for that, will probably spruce things up when I find time.

The Kuchiki household insists on hosting an event, like a Sakura Blossom Festival to welcome spring. Byakuya only does it because it’s a duty placed on him. He unwillingly invites the other shinigami, wondering if this frivolity is really necessary.

Gin is surprised when he sees his invitation, but upon finding Byakuya, smirks at him and says, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Byakuya brushes off this interaction and chalks it up to Gin just being his usual peculiar self.

The day of the event, Gin has dressed up in his best kimono, a pale mint green with a white obi, peeking in through the main entrance of the Kuchiki manor. The word ‘oppulence’ does not even begin to cover the amount of decorations and food that has been arranged for the event. The sakura blossoms which should have been the main attraction are all somehow faded away into the background, their shy color barely visible amongst all the lights that have been put up in the garden.

Several nobles from different families are present, sipping their expensive sake, eating caviar and enjoying the finest cuts of sushi. Gin slips through the crowd, eventually finding Aizen, also dressed up in a kimono of pale blue silk. “So this is how the other side lives eh?” He says while grabbing a cup of sake from a passing server. Aizen merely chuckles at Gin’s remark.

Byakuya eventually makes an entrance, looking incredibly attractive in a dark lavender kimono that is richly patterned with a floral print. His kenseikan are all in place, his chiseled, pale face scanning the crowd as he thanks everyone for turning up and that he hopes they’re enjoying themselves, that it’s the pride of the Kuchiki clan to host this event.

As the evening passes, slowly, everyone starts to leave, thanking Byakuya. Byakuya sighs, feeling a sense of relief as the manor empties out, the help quickly removing all the little tables and lights from the garden. He sits down on one of the benches, then frowns as he senses another presence.

Gin slowly makes his way over to Byakuya. He couldn’t help but notice the frown on his face and of course, what better thing to do when someone is frowning than to piss them off?

“Quite the shindig ya threw there Kuchiki sama.”

Byakuya gives Gin a confused look at the use of the title, although it wasn’t inappropriate. It somehow sounded…snide? In any case, he wasn’t in the mood. His battery was drained and all he was thinking of is how to boot out Gin in the quickest way possible.

“Thank you. You never bother with titles even at work.” It wasn’t a question. Gin shrugs dismissively,

“When in Rome, right? Gotta give the noble his dues in his own home. Where else would I do it?”

The words are already triggering an exhausted Byakuya who clenches his jaw. Ignoring this, Gin looks around the empty garden.

“Considering this was supposed to be a sakura blossom event, it might have been better if the focus had been, ya know, on the blossoms?” He gestures to the trees with their delicate branches, the lovely flowers open in beautiful blush pink tones. Now that all the decorations have been moved, they’re far more visible.

Byakuya looks very taken aback, looking at the blossoms and back at Gin.

“Events are meant for socializing, Ichimaru taicho. The sakura blossoms were merely a uniting factor.”

What would this scrap from the Rukongai understand about regal events like this?

Gin’s smirk widens as if he had heard Byakuya’s thoughts. “I see. So the nobles socialize, and the lower class are invited to watch the show. Like theatre. Only there’s no stage.”

Byakuya’s head is throbbing, both from irritation and exhaustion. He hadn’t wanted to throw this damn event in the first place but he wasn’t about to admit that to Gin of all people.

“Anyhoo, very pretty place to grow up in. Must be nice, a servant catering to your every whim.”

“I did not have a servant catering to my every whim. I have trained just as hard to become a shinigami as anyone else.”

“How much did you train to become the next head of the Kuchiki clan?”

Oh, Gin was pushing all the right buttons here and he can’t help but snicker as a look of fury comes onto Byakuya’s usually calm face.

“I earned that title by ensuring I acted befittingly of a noble. I had to be proficient in finance, business relations - what are you agreeing with?” Byakuya asks through clenched teeth as Gin nods his head patronizingly.

“Finance, business…impressive. So it looks like the head of the Kuchiki clan needed to be able to count money above everything else. A little disappointing, I mean there’s bartenders who could do that job…” Gin lets his words do their magic as a vein comes into Byakuya’s forehead, his jaw tightening in ire.

“Your skills as a shinigami might be impressive, Ichimaru taicho, but don’t pretend you understand the workings of upperclass society.”

“Oh, like I’d want to.” Gin’s voice takes on a fake, flourishing accent. “Here Kuchiki sama, we’ve ironed your uniform, it took us 3 days because we had to track down a fairy who uses magic powder to give it an extra wrinkle free finish! Oh, respected Kuchiki sama, we apologize that we only gave you one set of chopsticks at breakfast, the silversmith ran out of material to make another fresh pair today!”

Byakuya’s rage peaked and for a moment, he was rendered speechless by it, unable to think of a response to Gin’s mocking. Gin on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying himself, the stoic Byakuya’s face getting redder by the minute.

“Seems like retorts are something they don’t teach you in noble school.” Gin pokes the bear again.

“I am not some prissy, spoiled little lord!” Byakuya hisses, very much struggling to not raise his voice and attract the attention of the servants.

“Kuchiki sama, don’t kid yourself. You’re the poster boy for that tagline. Although, I thought I don’t understand the workings of upper class society. So why are you wasting your time trying to prove to me that you’re not all those things?”

Byakuya feels his anger ebb the tiniest fraction as Gin’s words hit him.

Why AM I trying so hard to change the image of me he has in his head?

“Anyway, great party. Shame about the sakura being ignored. They really are very pretty this time of year.”

Byakuya must always have the last word. Always.

“Ichimaru taicho!” His words are filled with irritation but somehow, have lost their edge. Gin looked over his shoulder in curiosity.

“I worked very hard to bring this event together. At least pretend to be a gracious guest and say a proper goodbye before departing.”

Gin’s smirk widens into a full blown grin as he walks back towards Byakuya. A few sakura blossom petals fall in his wake. “Oh? Is Kuchiki sama teaching me how to be all prim and proper now? Is there a handbook on nobility mannerisms?”

Byakuya knows his temper may have gotten the best of him, along with the desire to have the last word. There was no winning when it came to Gin Ichimaru.

“No, but it’s considered good manners anywhere to bid your host goodbye. I imagine even the Rukongai inhabitants practice this.”

“I see. And how much does the pretty Kuchiki sama know about life in the Rukongai?” Gin is uncomfortably close to Byakuya now, close enough for him to count each lovely eyelash on Byakuya’s lids. Byakuya’s mouth opens, and in a somewhat muted manner, he mumbles, “I’ve…heard things…”

“I see. So Kuchiki sama has a working pair of ears. Good to know. I wonder how sensitive they are to sound…” Gin works his way even closer to Byakuya, his lips now right against his ear.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Kuchiki sama,” Gin whispers teasingly. The soft flow of air sends chills down Byakuya’s spine and a blush forms on his face.

What was happening?

Gin pulls away, looking at Byakuya’s face. “No wonder Senbonzakura chose you. You look just like a sakura blossom right now.” Sensing Byakuya had been effectively shut up, he waves his hand in farewell and takes his leave.

Byakuya watches him go, heart racing and the damn blush getting deeper by the minute. A few more sakura blossoms fall at his feet.

Do we want a part 2??!! Let me know!!! dividers by k1ssyoursister

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction #bleach fic #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #byakuya kuchiki #gin ichimaru #byakuya x gin #gin x byakuya #byaichi #bleach ships

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quibbs126 · 11 months

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All right, so as said last post, this was a request from @a-weird-bean-bag, and this is Chowder Cookie

For those who don’t recognize the bottom character, this is @a-weird-bean-bag’s character Goat Milk Cookie

You know fun fact, this is the 2nd OC x Canon I got, and the first was I think either the day before or earlier the same day. Haven’t finished that one though

So I think the process for this name was that I saw the two of these characters and was like “oh hey isn’t there some recipe in Breath of the Wild that uses seafood and milk?” and so I went looking on a website I knew for the name of it. Note that I know nothing about seafood, my family doesn’t eat it and we just generally stay away from it. Anyways, so the thing I was thinking of was trout soup, which I’m now realizing is from Stardew, not Breath of the Wild. Okay so it went Trout Soup from Stardew, which didn’t really work, so I went looking for anything that mixed seafood and milk, but couldn’t find anything. Then I thought about that BOTW recipe and looked it up and it was Clam Chowder. So I looked up chowder and it turns out it doesn’t necessarily have to clams, so I just went with Chowder Cookie

As stated above, it’s because it mixes seafood and milk. So, simple enough

Chowder:

Okay, looking at it now, maybe I made her skin too dark, but ah well, it’s probably fine. Anyways moving on to her hair

So I know Caviar and Goat Milk only have partially curly hair instead of Chowder’s entirely curly, and she probably looks closer to Cauliflower, but that’s just what I went with, and I liked it. I made her hair lighter than either of the two since it was supposed to be the soup, and I didn’t think Goat Milk’s hair color necessarily cut it as light enough

Also the pink and green bits are supposed to be like, things in the soup, since chowder doesn’t just seem to be a base soup, it has other ingredients in it. My idea is that she had more in her hair when she was younger, but maybe she picked them out to seem more professional or something. I also tried to make it seem somewhat liquid-y, but I don’t know how successful that was

I had a lot to say about her hair, but not much on the outfit front. I kind of just tried to come up with something based on Creme Republic characters, specifically the Lower City designs. She’s supposed to be a trader, so I wanted to make her look somewhat professional, but also she’s not into wearing particularly fancy clothes, so I just kind of went with this (though she probably also has more formal clothes, this is just day to day). I suppose it’s fine

Also you may notice the tiny horns. They were honestly a pretty last minute inclusion, hence why they look like they were kind of tacked on. But also I’m kind of fine with them the way they are

I was also thinking of giving her freckles like Goat Milk’s old design, but they didn’t pan out

But yeah, overall I like the design well enough. Maybe not one of my best but still good. Maybe doesn’t look enough like Caviar though

Anyways, so let’s move on to her character

So as I’ve stated before, she’s in the maritime trading business. I think I got this idea because Caviar’s captain of a ship (and I think their navy), and my brain was like “boats also = trading”, which may have been spurred by my recent history lectures which have been discussing the road to the American Revolution, and we got to the shutdown of Boston Harbor which affected merchants. But also I looked back at Goat Milk’s info and saw he’s a trader too, so it all works out

Generally she’s a very business oriented person, with a drive to get things done as quickly and effectively as possible. As such she can be a bit stern and not the most pleasant to be around if you work with her. She’s nicer if you meet her outside of work, she’s just trying to get things done

She also can have a bit of a short temper and doesn’t really take setbacks or mishaps well. I mean, she’ll find ways to work around them, but when she gets bad news she doesn’t react the best in the moment. Likely it will involve her swearing. Sometimes excessively

Also she likes chowder, as shown in the left sketch. I had something else there, but I thought I should show her being chill so she doesn’t seem like a completely angry person. She isn’t, it’s just that she gets pissed off a bit easily

Anyways I think that’s about it. I feel like I’m forgetting something but I don’t know what. Ah well, I can edit it in later if I remember. But yeah, I hope you enjoy her!

Oh and also, I didn’t know where to put this, but what actually got me to get around to drawing her was making this rough sketch. I actually did a few of these, and maybe it’ll help me actually get around to drawing them more, since it was pretty fun and I feel like drawing the other two I did sometime

Here was the initial sketch. It’s small so I just put it with the rest of the drawing so you’re not looking at a largely blank canvas

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #captain caviar cookie #goat milk cookie #I forgot to look up the ship name #sorry #cookie run oc #chowder cookie #my art #my ocs #requests #I feel like I should have more to tag #oc x canon #not my oc #I’m referring to Goat Milk here #but biscy you’re free to use Chowder if you want to

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gingersnap2010 · 2 years

Text

Yandere Platonic Lelouch x male Autistic! Kid! reader (Code Geass)

Name: Lelouch

Type: Platonic, Protective, Possessive, Delusional, Obsessive, and Controlling

Nickname: Name, possum, chaos in the flesh, and lord of discord

Lelouch at first has no idea what to make of you. He probably meets you at one of Nunnally’s special classes. He’s shocked to discover your just a kid. Though with your needs it makes sense why you were here since Nunnally attending special classes for people who need it had greatly increased.

When he finds out you are autistic, he isn’t very sure what that means. He literally has to ask more than a dozen people, before researching it online himself.

Eventually, you come over with Nunnally for dinner and he gets to see your quirks in action. You eat out of a compartment box, which has the correct amount of portions you can handle. You hate veggies with a firey passion, more so than his hatred towards his father. You proceeded to tell him your conspiracy theory on the veggie industry and how they will take over the world.

He pretended to be interested even though he had absolutely no idea what you were even saying to him at the rate you were going. He learned you talk fast and loud when excited. Personal space is a word that is not in your vocabulary, also privacy.

You are very blunt and see the world bluntly, if Nunnally needs help getting into her nightgown. You offer with absolutely no intentions of doing anything funny with her. It makes sense for your age but with sex questions well…

He’s worried that no one has told you about how babies are made. Only to be proven wrong with your very open discussion on the topic. He learns you like being prepared for future events, your boldness of sex. Is a copping measure to make sure you don’t do sex wrong.

He finds it endearing in a strange way. Though you couldn’t discuss sex so often, then again you were one to discuss open issues in society so he doesn’t mind. Though he does keep ohgi the hell away from you!

However you have no table skills, you use sporks only, with the occasional spoon for deserts /cereals, and soups and a knife for meats. You have a variety of strange interests. You know more about zero than the average joe, which makes him sweat like you wouldn’t believe.

Then there’s your animal hobby, you just love possums hence the nickname. He actually learns more about the animal than he used to because of you. Then there's the time you spout some random ass animal fact out of the blue and it catches him off guard.

“ Hey lelouch! Kangaroos pause their pregnancies in times of drought! Isn’t that neat?!” you yelled rushing into his bathroom as he was getting out of the shower.

Cue him being perplexed as to why you are there and then you follow up

“ also there’s soap on your-” he cuts you off before you announce it to Nunnally

“ ah I see thanks name! Got it!”

“Also Nunnally says hi!” you chirp

“ hi back!” Lelouch yelled trying to cover himself

Then there was the whole fancy dinner incident. Truthfully he should have told Milly you wouldn’t understand caviar.

” Where are the nuggets?”

“ name this is a fancy restaurant they don’t have chicken nuggets,” Lelouch whispered

“ macaroni?” you ask

“ no,” Suzaku said eyeing you

“ Is there a kid's menu?!” you shout at the waiter, who turns confused

“ oh my god……” Milly groaned

“ Can we go to Mcdonald's?” you ask

Lelouch smacked his head on the table.

He becomes your dad, without realizing it. He’s like Mr. mom, seriously he figures out a schedule for you after he convinces your guardian to let you move in. May have used his geass for that.

Your social skills are zero to none, and so, is the perception of volume.

“ HEY LELOUCH!!!! NINTENDO!!!!” you scream happily pointing to a pokemon manga

“ name!! shush we’re in a library!” Lelouch hissed

When you get hurt or sent to an area he’s gonna wreak havoc on, that's when yandere mode goes on full. He keeps you locked up after that. He feels a bit guilty but he may use your trust in him, to make you stay away from the television if he’s not there, and so on. But it’s honestly for your own good.

He goes permanently after a bullying situation at school where someone calls you a retard after you did not understand something. He was livid at the person and has a smile the next day when they are found dead.

This is a good display of his protectiveness, his delusion is in the thinking you are like Nunnally who he perceives is made out of glass. So instead of helping you in a way that would let you become more independent, he caters to your needs.

Don’t like watching movies if there's a sad moment in it? Perfect he’ll set up animal documentaries, and animal learning shows instead. Or craft shows, you name something g rated he’s got it hooked up to the tv. C.C. is like a mum to you so he sees you often cuddling up to her. It makes him jealous, though when you cuddle him he gets flustered easily. He’s shy about hugs sometimes.

C.C. basically gets you stuff to keep busy with, she also teaches you about the history she had experienced. So your understanding of history greatly improves, and you learn a few more languages. She also is great to teach you anything since she is patient and mellow, and has also learned various teaching methods over the years.

So while your skills don’t improve with people, academically you skyrocket. You're able to get your point across faster with higher-thinking words. Such as parched, instead of thirsty, and so on. It helps you fit in with the higger standing kids when you do go outside so that’s a plus.

Lelouch calls you chaos in the flesh after the tube city incident in the club room, your idea which you somehow convinced Milly of. Then again she’s had outlandish ideas too. Was to make a giant system of tubes for hamsters. Then set them loose across the school as animal enthusiasm and awareness.

You also drench yourself in paint and tried to paint with your body. So yeah, chaos in the flesh. He calls you the lord of discord for the poker game incident that drove him and Suzaku up the wall. When they learned you had somehow been playing with Uno cards. Then said Yahtzee at the end. Truth be told he should have guessed that smile did not seem to get the point of the game.

C.C. then congratulated you on the discord you created. Hence the nickname.

You also hog the blanket, yeah you sleep in his bed. You have trouble sleeping alone. Your mind at night tells you that if someone is there they will protect you from whatever monster may come after you. You are not wrong in his case, but the point still stands. Every night you also sleep walk so he has put up baby gates and extra walls, in order to prevent you from getting hurt.

When he becomes king, he’s hesitant about how you’ll take his death. Since you seem not to deal with the concept very well. So he may tell you he’s gonna be back. This is before he knows he's got code. You also like stealing his hat and sitting on the throne with your favorite drink and people watch. It spooks the guards that’s for sure.

You also like playing with the limo’s buttons. Much to the annoyance of the driver. Your favorite thing to do though is to sneak under his robes without him knowing then pop your head threw them scarring him every single time!

You also take a fancy to watch sleeping beauty. He’s not sure why though….

When’s he back with memories and code, you launch yourself at him before kola hugs him. He’s trapped by you and knows it. It takes bribing from Suzaku before you even consider letting go. You watch him like a hawk since he was gone for so long.

Lelouch sighs and lets you lay on him as he walks with C.C. to their next location. Yeah, he’d figured out how to keep you with him, so you ain’t dying anytime soon. When you ask what the funny tattoo is for, Lelouch just tells you it’s like a bracelet.

C.C Has dubbed you The Jelly bean of absolute Mayhem. You like it cause it makes you sound powerful, as you try to imitate what Lelouch does with his eyes. Lelouch just sweats in confusion when he sees you trying to act all threatening.

He tried teaching you chess once, and he watched in horror as you ate the pieces. C.C. learns you are more of a tic-tac-toe person. You do it in the dirt with a tree branch you found. The most recent incident was when you managed to find a possum and wanted to keep it. It liked you, but it hissed at Lelouch with fiery hatred! The possum had to go, but he got you a plushie which you dubbed mrs. possum.

All in all, not the worst yandere…. right?

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tofueggnoodles · 2 years

Text

Special Edition Drama (Volume 2 of the Reload Blast Anime BR/DVD) – Playing House

https://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm33661338

Summary: Tenpou teaches the other three how to play house. Tenpou’s “performance” during the last 3 minutes is pure gem. I couldn’t stop chuckling even as I translated his lines. Special appearance by Kanzeon Bosatsu and Jiroushin.

--------

Tenpou: Hmm, which one should I try today? (flips through the pages) Mix yogurt with fermented squid paste to produce the taste of caviar – ah, let’s go with this one.

Kenren: Coming up with a weird combination of foodstuffs again.... Didn’t you attempt to produce the taste of sausage by pouring soy sauce on pudding the other day?

Tenpou: That was difficult, wasn’t it? No matter how many time I adjusted the proportions of the soy sauce and the pudding, I was not able to distill the soy sauce I’d poured onto the pudding.

Kenren: Make what you like, as long as you don’t upset your stomach. How slovenly it would seem for a Field Marshal to be locked up all day long in the toilet!

Tenpou: No worries! I’ve prepared some stomach medicine.

Kenren: You’d go that far for your cooking experiments? Why not just buy some caviar like normal people? You’re a Field Marshal after all. Your salary should be quite all right, shouldn’t it?

Tenpou: Unfortunately, I’m flat broke because I spend my salary on books. Besides, since I went to great pains to procure this peculiar collection of recipes titled “The Next Adventurer Is You”, there’s a variety of food combinations I’d like to try.

Kenren: Hah, so that’s how it is.

Tenpou: Yes, that’s how it is. All right, here goes. I’m adding lots of fermented squid paste to the yogurt....

Kenren: Hmm, it does not look very appetizing.

Tenpou: Well, you won’t know whether it’s delicious or not unless you try eating it. (eats up the unholy mix)

Kenren: How is it?

Tenpou: It’s... not great. Or rather, if I speak further, it’ll come out–

Kenren: I told you so. Here, wash it down with some water.

Tenpou: Thank you. Ah, I probably used too much yogurt. I’ll try again with less yogurt.

Kenren: Are you still at it?! Quit it already. I mean, why don’t we just have some drinks as usual?

Tenpou: What are you saying? Our drinking party has already begun.

Kenren: It already has? Where are the drinking snacks?

Tenpou: This here is the snack – the fermented squid paste.

Kenren: That’s the paste you’ve just mixed with the yogurt!

Tenpou: Don’t hold back.

Kenren: I’m not holding back!

(Someone knocks on the door.)

Tenpou: Yes?

Konzen: It’s me. I’m coming in.

Tenpou: It’s rare for you to visit at this time of the day, Konzen. What’s the matter?

Konzen: I’m here to return a book I borrowed. Are you two having an evening drink?

Tenpou: Yes, we are. Isn’t it obvious just by looking?

Kenren: It’s because he couldn’t tell just by looking that he had to ask.... Anyway, you’ve come at the right time. Why not have a drink together once in a while, Konzen? Have a seat!

Tenpou: How about some fermented squid paste as well?

Konzen: Is this even edible?

Kenren: Give it a pass. You’ll just upset your stomach otherwise.

Konzen: I know just by looking at it. I don’t need you to tell me that. (sits down)

Tenpou (pours Konzen a drink): There you go – a full glass to begin with.

Konzen (gulps his drink): Actually, aside from returning the book, I came here for some advice.

Kenren: About what? That’s quite rare coming from you.

Konzen: I didn’t think you’d be here too.

Kenren: Two heads are better than one, you know.

Konzen: It’s about Goku.

Tenpou: What about him?

Konzen: Aside from Nataku, there are no kids his age in Heaven. That’s why he’s always playing by himself – how should I put it –

Kenren: Ah, so Daddy is worried that Goku’s feeling lonely.

Konzen: Who’re you calling Daddy?

Tenpou: If that’s the case, why don’t you play with him yourself, Konzen?

Konzen: I tried keeping him company once. The next day, my muscles hurt so much that I could not move.

Kenren: Ah. Well, it’s certainly tough for Konzen to keep up with such an energetic, care-free companion.

Tenpou: Still, a kid’s education is outside of our area of expertise. At times like this, we’ll have to rely on books. Ah, it should be around here–

Kenren: Oi, don’t pull out the books with that much force! They’ll fall down on you again!

Tenpou: I’ll be fine. I’ll just move these out of the way– ah!

(Sound of books falling down.)

Tenpou: Just pretend you didn’t see that.

Konzen: Is it always like that with him?

Kenren: Yeah. It got so extreme that at one point, as soon as I opened the door, books just slid out like an avalanche.

Tenpou: Let me see... I’ve got it. This is the book I was looking for.

Konzen: Hmm? ‘Club Memory’?

Kenren: What sort of book is that?

Tenpou: It’s a popular magazine in the mortal realm filled with useful information about child rearing.

Kenren: Why do you have such a thing in your possession?

Tenpou: Chance favors the prepared mind. [Lit.: Those who are prepared avoid grief.] (flips through the pages and reads out the contents) Children’s games can be categorized into two types: outdoor games and indoor ones. Goku usually prefers outside activities such as climbing trees or playing tag. So how about letting him play indoor games for a change?

Konzen: Indoor games?

Tenpou: Paper folding, cat’s cradle, puzzles– ah, what about something like this? It’s called ‘playing house.’

Kenren: ‘Playing house’? What’s that?

Tenpou: It’s a game that is good for cultivating sensibility in children. It instills vocabulary and teaches them how to use daily items.

Kenren: Eh, it sounds perfect for Goku.

Tenpou: Besides, Goku has hardly played with anyone indoors. I think he will enjoy this.

Kenren: Well, it certainly doesn’t sound like a game for which one would need to use physical strength. How about giving it a try for once?

Konzen: But I don’t know how to play this game.

Tenpou: Don’t worry about that. Since I happen to be off duty tomorrow, I’ll be there to teach you.

Kenren: I don’t have anything planned in particular tomorrow either, so I’ll come along.

Konzen: Fine with me.

Kenren: By the way, what else is in that magazine? It looks very bulky....

Tenpou: Hmm. ‘A Complete Walkthrough for Struggling Mothers,’ ‘How to Compose a Perfect Email Response,’ ‘Methods for Taking Pictures that Will Net a Large Amount of Likes on Your Blog,’ ‘A Compilation of Games in the Park’ – and so forth.

Konzen: You’ve lost me entirely.

Tenpou: No matter in which era, child-rearing is a tough job for mothers, isn’t it?

Kenren: From whose standpoint are you speaking?

--------

Goku: Hey Konzen, why can’t I go outside to play today?

Konzen: Never mind that. Just shut up and sit down.

Goku: That’s boring! I want to play!

Konzen: You’re noisy! I told you to be quiet and wait, didn’t I?

Goku: Eh?!

(The door opens.)

Kenren: Oh, you’re as lively as ever today. I’m coming in.

Tenpou: Pardon the intrusion.

Goku: Ken nii-chan! Ten-chan!

Konzen: You guys are late!

Kenren: Sorry. It took Tenpou a while to wake up.

Tenpou: My bad for staying up all night yesterday....

Kenren: Didn’t we end our drinking party earlier than usual last night? Ah, could it be that you stayed up reading again?

(Tenpou laughs sheepishly.)

Goku: What’s the matter, you two?

Kenren: We just thought we’d come play with you, Goku.

Goku: Really! What should we play? Baseball? Hide-and-seek?

Tenpou: Baseball and hide-and-seek are fun too, but shall we try a different game today?

Kenren: Together with Konzen too, okay?

Goku: Eh? Konzen too? Really?

Konzen: Yes.

Goku: Yay! So, what are we gonna play?

Tenpou: Let’s play house.

Goku: ‘Play house’? What’s that?

Konzen: All right! Seems like he’s never played it before.

Kenren: Seems so.

Goku: Hey, what’s ‘play house’?

Tenpou: It’s a pretend play, Goku. The players take on the roles of the father, the mother or the children.

Goku: Hmm... I see.

Kenren: Oh, you already understand how it’s played, Goku?

Goku: Not really, but it sounds interesting.

Kenren (chuckles): So you don’t really understand. Well, let’s try it for once, shall we?

Tenpou: Indeed. First, let’s decide on our roles. It’s based on my arbitrary judgment and bias, but Goku should–

Goku: I want to be the Meat Bun Man!

Tenpou: –play the role of the mother.

Goku: I’m the mother?

Tenpou: As for the role of the father, I’ll let Konzen do the honors.

Konzen: Hah? Why me?

Tenpou: Don’t you want to make Goku happy?

(Konzen mumbles unintelligibly.)

Kenren: What about me?

Tenpou: You’ll play the son.

Goku: Ken nii-chan is my son? Then, that means I’m more important than him? Yay!

Kenren (in a low voice): Seriously?

Tenpou: I’ll be the narrator and monitor the progress, okay?

Kenren: Monitor the progress? Aren’t we just going to play as we like based on our assigned roles?

Tenpou: The three of you are beginners at playing house. If you play as you like, you’re unlikely to reach the proper conclusion. ** For this reason, I’ve prepared this.

Konzen: What’s that?

Tenpou: It’s the script. It contains the character descriptions and the storyline I’ve created for today’s game.

Kenren: That’s the reason you stayed up all night....

Tenpou: This time, let’s play by following along this script!

Goku: All right!

Tenpou: Ah, as for you, you don’t have to follow along the script, Goku.

Goku: Eh? Is that okay?

Tenpou: Yes. Since the purpose of playing house is for children to learn various things via practice, please play as you like.

Goku: I don’t really get it, but okay!

Kenren: I guess it’s more fun that way.

Konzen: Indeed.

--------

Tenpou: Once, there was a pretty ordinary family of consisting of a father, a mother and a son. The son’s name was Kenren. However, their happiness did not last long. The father and the mother got divorced. The father got the custody of Kenren. Afterward, the father remarried. The new wife was more than twenty years younger than him. Kenren and his stepmother were not related by blood–

Kenren and Konzen: Hold on for a second!

Tenpou: Yes?

Konzen: Which part of such a scenario is conducive for cultivating sensibility?

Kenren: Doesn’t it sound like some trendy daytime soap? Wouldn’t it be better to just stick to a simpler scenario?

Tenpou: What are you two saying? The fun of playing house depends on how well-crafted the scenario is. By the way, the father works at a brokerage firm. This year is his twentieth year of continuous employment there. A straight-laced veteran.

Kenren: ‘Straight-laced’ does describe Konzen in real life.

Konzen: Oi!

Goku: Hey, what’s the matter? Hurry up and continue!

Tenpou: All right, all right. You two, Goku is getting bored, so I’ll carry on.

(Kenren and Konzen gasp in frustration.)

Tenpou (clears his throat): The stepmother is young but hardworking. She performs the housework all by herself. At the moment, she is doing the laundry.

Goku: Er, laundry? All I have to do is soak the clothes in water and hang them out to dry, right? Eh... there are no clothes here, so would it be fine if I soak these documents instead?

Konzen: How could that be fine, stupid monkey! (hits Goku)

Goku: That hurts! This is DVD!

Tenpou: Close, but not quite right. The correct term is DV – domestic violence, Goku.

Kenren: Where did he pick up such a word?

Goku: Ten-chan taught me a lot of words the other day.

Konzen: You teach him nothing but nonsense.

Tenpou: Uh, according to the script, while Goku is doing the laundry, the son comes home. This is supposed to result in an uneasy tension between the son and the stepmother who are not related by blood.

Kenren: Uneasy tension? What do you intend to make us do here?

Tenpou: I want to show the typical behavior of a child in his rebellious phase. Whatever Goku says to Kenren falls on deaf ears.

Kenren: Why such an unpleasant atmosphere? Why not just have the son and the stepmother get along with each other?

Tenpou: If the stepson and the second wife were to get along, the flow of the story I came up with would end up ruined. (sighs) It can’t be helped. Well then, let’s skip the afternoon scene and go straight to the basic element of playing house: the scene in which the family sit down together for dinner.

Konzen: You should’ve done that from the start!

Tenpou: It appears to be a usual family dinner until the father, Konzen, announces his decision to quit his job.

Kenren and Konzen: Oi!

Goku: Eh? Konzen is quitting his job?

Konzen: Don’t narrate the story as if I’m actually quitting my job! Tenpou!

Tenpou: Since this is our first time playing house, I think it would be better if an incident is to occur.

Kenren: Is playing house really like this?

Goku: So, if Konzen quits, what is going to happen?

Tenpou: There, Konzen. At any rate, please continue playing. Your lines are written in the script.

Konzen: Really! (flips through the pages) “Today, I submitted my letter of resignation at my workplace.”

Kenren: “Hah?”

Goku: Letter of resignation?

Konzen: “I have something else I wish to do. That is why I quit my job. No matter what your objection is at this point in time, my decision will remain unchanged.”

Kenren: “Well, I’ve yet to voice out any complaint, but what is this thing that you wish to do?”

Konzen: “Ra–”

Goku: Ra–?

Konzen: “Ramen restaurant. I’ll open a ramen restaurant.”

(The door opens.)

Kanzeon: That’s the first time I hear of you wanting to open a ramen restaurant.

Konzen: Eeek!

Goku: Ah!

Tenpou: Kanzeon Bosatsu!

Kenren: Another unbelievable turn of the situation....

Kanzeon: What are you four doing gathering around here in silence?

Tenpou: We’re playing house for the sake of cultivating Goku’s sensibility. Konzen is the father, Goku is the mother, Kenren is the son and I’m the narrator. By the way, in the scenario we’re playing, the mother and the son is not related by blood.

Kenren: We’re not making much progress, though, thanks to the script being full of absurdities.

Kanzeon: Sounds interesting. I’ll join.

Konzen: Hah? What are you saying, shitty hag?

Goku: You’ll play with us? Yay!

Kenren: But... is there any role left?

Tenpou: We could have hir play the former wife.

Kanzeon: Hmm, Konzen’s ex? All right, I’ll take it.

Konzen: I have a bad feeling about this.

Tenpou: Well then, let’s pick up where we left off.

Kenren (clears his throat): “What were you thinking, quitting your job all of a sudden?”

Goku: If we run a ramen restaurant, I can eat as much ramen as I want! I agree with Konzen’s decision!

Kenren: “I object! We’re talking about a guy who doesn’t even cook. No way he would be able to successfully run a ramen restaurant!”

Goku: Oh, it’s true that the ramen Konzen makes is not very delicious....

Konzen: “We can just serve cup instant ramen.”

Goku: Aha, that’s right!

Kenren: “What sort of ramen restaurant would that be?”

Kanzeon: “You guys haven’t changed at all.”

Kenren: “Mo– mother!” (to himself) I had a hard time with this line.... **

Konzen: “You, how dare you show up here!”

Goku: “Welcome!”

Kanzeon: “Once again, you’ve picked a type that is totally different from me.”

Konzen: “After all this time, what is your reason for coming here?”

Kanzeon: “I’ve come here to take Kenren with me.”

Kenren: “Hah?”

Goku: “Never! Ken nii-chan is a precious member of this family. Don’t just take him away as you please!”

Kanzeon: “It’s better for a child to be with his biological mother. Isn’t it, Kenren?”

Kenren: “Actually, I’m fine with the way things are now.”

Goku: “No, no! Ken nii-chan is my child!”

Konzen (sighs and mutters to himself): What’s this farce?

Tenpou: “Wait a minute!”

Kenren: Hah? T–tenpou?

Kanzeon: Who the hell are you?

Tenpou: “How heartless of you, section manager Konzen! You told me I was the only one, but you’re actually married. And not for the first time either!”

Goku: Eh? Eh? What’s going on here? Is Ten-chan also Konzen’s wife?

Kenren: The ex-wife, the current wife and the mistress.... You’ve really come up with a hackneyed scenario straight out of a daytime soap.

Konzen: Er, Tenpou, don’t you think we’ve had enough–

Tenpou: “You deceived me! You’re the worst! I mean, what’s so great about this middle-aged woman here? What a bad taste she has in fashion, too!”

(The door opens.)

Jiroushin: Pardon my intrusion. Is Kanzeon Bosatsu here–

Kanzeon: “What are you going to say next? Don’t think of bragging of your conquest, husband-stealer!”

Tenpou: “You’re the one to talk! Don’t you feel embarrassed wearing such a revealing dress at your age?”

Kanzeon: “Heh. Aren’t you just jealous of my figure?”

Tenpou: “What did you just say? I’m not jealous! My complexion is smoother than yours!”

Kenren: What impressive ad-libs.... (to Konzen) Hey, what are you gonna do, “husband”?

Konzen: Who are you calling “husband”? How would I know?

Jiroushin: Er–

Kanzeon: Ah, Jiroushin. What’s the matter?

Jiroushin: What are you doing?

Kanzeon: Playing house.

Jiroushin: Playing house? What is that? Well, never mind. Kanzeon Bosatsu, you need to return to your office.

Kanzeon: Come on, why not let me stay here for just a bit more–

Jiroushin: I can’t do that! Documents that have passed the deadlines are piling up. If you neglect them any further, we’ll receive complaints from the various departments–

Kanzeon: Tch. It can’t be helped, then. Well, I’ve had my fun killing time, so I’ll go back now. See you guys later.

Goku: Bye-bye!

(The door creaks as Kanzeon and Jiroushin leave.)

Kenren: Uh–

(Konzen sighs.)

Tenpou: That was exciting, wasn’t it?

Kenren: Well, it was exciting indeed, but it wasn’t educational at all, was it?

Konzen: Not at all.

Kenren: Sorry that things turned out like this, Goku. Let’s go play baseball outside, shall we?

Goku: I don’t really understand what has happened, but it’s been a long time since I last got to play with Konzen. Also, I got to play with the two of you too, so it was a lot of fun for me!

Tenpou: Goku....

Kenren: That’s what he said, “Daddy”.

Konzen: Tch.

Goku: Moreover, playing house was fun too.

Tenpou: Was it? Then, let’s redo the scenario for next time. We’ll go with “The Field Marshall Saw It All: The Hidden Secret Behind the General’s Grand Life”–

Kenren and Konzen: Forget it!

--------

(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure with. Suggestions for improvements and corrections are more than welcome.

#最遊記 #saiyuki drama cd #saiyuki #translation #Son Goku #kenren #tenpou #konzen #kanzeon #jiroushin

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toalliveloved · 1 month

Text

8/10/24

Money. This foolish concept.

It determines what you eat, or lackthereof. I reached for the flour tucked in the cupboard. I’m glad I never make eggs in the morning, I seem to buy them and romanticize the idea but they’ve now been my savior. I added too much water to the eggs and flour. I hopelessly mixed the unmeasured ingredients in a Tupperware, hoping for the best. I center poured them like pancakes on a skillet. I shuffled around the spice cabinet to find cinnamon and 1 Splenda I could mix with water as dip. This is all that I will eat in a day. Trying not to let an oyster platter on Instagram throw me off the edge.

I was supposed to be in residential treatment at this time. My insurance policy wouldn’t cover it. I needed a 3,500 deductible, which isn’t even two months of full-time work for me. After I filed for FMLA from my main job, I was informed I haven’t accrued enough money to use PTO. I have nothing but $30 and a month off. My rent payment is gaining on me. Miraculously, I have a temp job floating around luxury hotels and condominiums as a front desk agent. I watch people in fancy jewelry snark at my rough edges. I’ve never tasted caviar, but I’m sure they abandoned their leftovers at some five star next to a pathetic tip.

I’m mostly concerned because I’ve read only two chapters of a library book, and touched my DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) workbook maybe twice. I’ve done nothing but sit in my room, inhaling the comfort of weed and exhaling this insatiable discontent. I have no money to fly home and embrace my family who I’m so far removed from. It’s been a sweaty marathon of work for maintenance. I have little time for therapy and spend too much time rationing old prescription drugs. I can’t even afford to be sick.

$30 will only fill up a quarter of my gas tank. I have $5 left on a McDonald’s gift card in case I have to consider shoplifting. I don’t qualify for food stamps because of the 1,100 dollars I make biweekly. My rent is one of those paychecks, my car note is $428, my insurance is inactive because I can’t afford it. I have gas, little groceries and miscellaneous fees to take care of with the remainder of my income. I know what you’re thinking. It’s a luxury to have a car, an expensive one at that. My 2017 Jeep Patriot is big enough to sleep in, parked neatly out front, just in case I have to live in it; again.

I was born economically six feet under, so I have to work twice as hard as the average citizen to live. Simultaneously, I must attend college, watching federal student aid take a sledgehammer to my credit report. I sought moving to another country to avoid this bloody hamster wheel. I’m a dreamer, an empty vessel washed on the shore of Miami Beach. I couldn’t move 2 feet without the current pulling me back out to sea. Moving to Spain would band-aid a hemorrhage, my fake husband and I were living in the clouds. Our dreams quickly turned into nightmares, lawyers fees, and stagnancy which are all one and the same. I thought of going back home to Boston, remembering this same feeling, just frostbitten.

I was conditioned to this lifestyle. I’ve only ever been a minority in big cities. I’ve had glimpses and appetizers of what money could buy me. I feel I deserve more than what my circumstances are. I try to ignore the way kids in alternative countries have no shoes, but they never knew any better. I only engage in the thought of their happiness, having a sense of community and always having a hot plate, even if it’s from the neighbors. You could be homeless here, a product of the streets and even I wouldn’t blink an eye. The idea that my few cents would buy drugs angered me. Hidden behind windows and my steering wheel, I knew that even I couldn’t afford to give up a few cents.

Among the hardships of what this life provides, money has value in the way you handle this life. How I long for a residential facility in Wyoming to gather my thoughts and rebuild myself. How I wish food wasn’t a privilege. Money to build a wall but no money to cover tuition. I didn’t need luxury, I needed a sense of belonging and basic necessities. I didn’t want to decipher what I did and did not need from Dollar Tree. Money is enough to break us down to our knees. Imagine, a deficit in every other department of life.

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my-weird-news · 1 year

Text

💔 Britney Spears & Sam Asghari: Unbelievable Divorce Drama!

#BritneyBreakup: Oops, They Did It Again! Hey there, party people! Gather 'round for the latest chapter in the never-ending drama of #BritneyBreakup! So, you won't believe it—Britney Spears and her handsome sidekick, Sam Asghari, are calling it quits after just a whole year of marital bliss. I mean, I've had toothbrushes that lasted longer than that! Hold onto your hair extensions, because Mr. Asghari has packed his bags and decided to ghost Britney's abode like a phantom in a rom-com. Just yesterday, we were swooning over their wedding pics, and now they're dropping the bombshell like it's a surprise party gone horribly wrong. Let's take a stroll down the red carpet of memory lane, shall we? Back in 2016, when flared jeans and questionable hairstyles were still a thing, a young chap named Sam found himself cast as the "boy toy" in Britney's music video. Ah, modern romance at its finest! Fast forward, and before you can say "hashtag relationship goals," they're hitting the Instagram "official" button. Because, clearly, a relationship is only real once it's Facebook status-worthy, right? But wait, folks, this is no ordinary love story. Britney had a conservatorship situation going on, which sounds fancy but basically meant her dad held the keys to her life choices, even down to deciding whether she should be parting ways with her IUD. Yep, a legal entity decided whether her uterus had a future or not. Awkward family dinner conversations just took a wild turn! Oh, and speaking of turns, have you heard of the documentary "Framing Britney Spears"? It hit the scene like a meteor, leaving everyone with jaws on the floor, going, "Wait, what?" Suddenly, we all felt like we needed detective hats to solve the mystery of "What's been happening to our girl?" Enter the #FreeBritney movement, and our man Sam, rocking #FreeBritney tees like he was the president of the fan club. Talk about commitment! Then, the grand finale arrived: the conservatorship got the boot, and the lovebirds headed to the wedding chapel. Celebs swarmed in, and apparently, there were even golden-hoofed horses making a cameo. Because if your wedding doesn't include mythical creatures, is it even a wedding? But wait, folks, the plot thickens! Out of the blue, a blast from Britney's past, Jason Alexander (no, not that Seinfeld guy), crashes the party. He insists they're still married from some wild Vegas escapade back in 2004. Somebody get this guy an Oscar for best dramatic entrance in a breakup narrative! Hold onto your fedoras (I'm assuming you're wearing one), because things take a nosedive. Britney's behavior goes full-on rollercoaster meets earthquake with a side of sibling feuds and nighttime kidnapping fears. And just when you thought the party couldn't get wilder, a TMZ doc points fingers at her for substance issues. But fear not, for our hero Sam steps in, throwing shade at the documentary like a pro-level shady tree. And now, folks, brace yourselves for the ultimate twist. TMZ drops the bomb that Sam's accusing Britney of playing the cheating game! Rumors fly faster than pigeons when you throw popcorn at them, and suddenly, the town's buzzing like a caffeinated beehive. Wait, there's more! Page Six spills the beans that Sam wants a bigger chunk of change and threatens to spill all the tea. I can practically see him clutching a secret diary labeled "Britney's Most Embarrassing Moments." Reality TV, eat your heart out! So, what's the moral of this rollercoaster-on-steroids tale? Love's a bumpy ride, and celebrity love is like a rollercoaster designed by a mad scientist. And hey, if you're into weird tales and rollercoaster journalism that leaves your head spinning, consider throwing a coin to Vox. They're all about brain-teasing content without emptying your wallet. Because understanding the world shouldn't be limited to the brunches of caviar-eating elites. So, will you join the curious carnival? 🎢💸🌎#BritneyBreakup: Oops, They Did It Again! Hey there, party people! Gather 'round for the latest chapter in the never-ending drama of #BritneyBreakup! So, you won't believe it—Britney Spears and her handsome sidekick, Sam Asghari, are calling it quits after just a whole year of marital bliss. I mean, I've had toothbrushes that lasted longer than that! Hold onto your hair extensions, because Mr. Asghari has packed his bags and decided to ghost Britney's abode like a phantom in a rom-com. Just yesterday, we were swooning over their wedding pics, and now they're dropping the bombshell like it's a surprise party gone horribly wrong. Let's take a stroll down the red carpet of memory lane, shall we? Back in 2016, when flared jeans and questionable hairstyles were still a thing, a young chap named Sam found himself cast as the "boy toy" in Britney's music video. Ah, modern romance at its finest! Fast forward, and before you can say "hashtag relationship goals," they're hitting the Instagram "official" button. Because, clearly, a relationship is only real once it's Facebook status-worthy, right? But wait, folks, this is no ordinary love story. Britney had a conservatorship situation going on, which sounds fancy but basically meant her dad held the keys to her life choices, even down to deciding whether she should be parting ways with her IUD. Yep, a legal entity decided whether her uterus had a future or not. Awkward family dinner conversations just took a wild turn! Oh, and speaking of turns, have you heard of the documentary "Framing Britney Spears"? It hit the scene like a meteor, leaving everyone with jaws on the floor, going, "Wait, what?" Suddenly, we all felt like we needed detective hats to solve the mystery of "What's been happening to our girl?" Enter the #FreeBritney movement, and our man Sam, rocking #FreeBritney tees like he was the president of the fan club. Talk about commitment! Then, the grand finale arrived: the conservatorship got the boot, and the lovebirds headed to the wedding chapel. Celebs swarmed in, and apparently, there were even golden-hoofed horses making a cameo. Because if your wedding doesn't include mythical creatures, is it even a wedding? But wait, folks, the plot thickens! Out of the blue, a blast from Britney's past, Jason Alexander (no, not that Seinfeld guy), crashes the party. He insists they're still married from some wild Vegas escapade back in 2004. Somebody get this guy an Oscar for best dramatic entrance in a breakup narrative! Hold onto your fedoras (I'm assuming you're wearing one), because things take a nosedive. Britney's behavior goes full-on rollercoaster meets earthquake with a side of sibling feuds and nighttime kidnapping fears. And just when you thought the party couldn't get wilder, a TMZ doc points fingers at her for substance issues. But fear not, for our hero Sam steps in, throwing shade at the documentary like a pro-level shady tree. And now, folks, brace yourselves for the ultimate twist. TMZ drops the bomb that Sam's accusing Britney of playing the cheating game! Rumors fly faster than pigeons when you throw popcorn at them, and suddenly, the town's buzzing like a caffeinated beehive. Wait, there's more! Page Six spills the beans that Sam wants a bigger chunk of change and threatens to spill all the tea. I can practically see him clutching a secret diary labeled "Britney's Most Embarrassing Moments." Reality TV, eat your heart out! So, what's the moral of this rollercoaster-on-steroids tale? Love's a bumpy ride, and celebrity love is like a rollercoaster designed by a mad scientist. And hey, if you're into weird tales and rollercoaster journalism that leaves your head spinning, consider throwing a coin to Vox. They're all about brain-teasing content without emptying your wallet. Because understanding the world shouldn't be limited to the brunches of caviar-eating elites. So, will you join the curious carnival? 🎢💸🌎 Read the full article

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steamishot · 1 year

Text

equinox x2/4th of july

this past weekend, we went on our second staycation to equinox for three nights. amex had a $200 off $1000 offer so we couldn’t resist. we checked in on 6/30, which i could not take off from work. unfortunately, i had to work until 8pm that day but it worked out fine. we knew what to expect this time around so the adjustment period was very short. the hotel offers such serenity and tranquility; it’s extremely quiet and the air is super purified and fresh. the quietness is so therapeutic, especially for matt who is often in a high stress and chaotic environment. he had just finished a 10 day working streak, 7 days on and 3 days of moonlighting. our lives are always a little insane:

friday:

neighborhood walk to white noise/coffee

checked out la bicyclette for the most expensive ham and cheese croissant ($9)

matt had a 30 min virtual interview with LA USC, followed by a therapy session with gabbie

we do last minute packing, throw out the trash/cleaned, and head to equinox hotels around 3pm

we settle in, i continue to work

ordered sushi on 35 delivery for our dinner

restorative yoga at 8pm with babette godefrey: she was giving a whole ted talk during this session, stressing the importance of rest (in addition to exercise and nutrition). she said that we see more in a week in NYC than people did in their entire lifetimes 100 years ago.

saturday:

started off our day with an intense but fun workout by michael j. clark for kickboxing. this guy was literally on crack, performing acrobatics at 10am in the morning lol. he is by far the most memorable fitness instructor i’ve had. left me feeling sore for at least 3 days after

went for lunch at a nearby australian cafe and ate healthy food (salad & avocado toast)

picked up a matcha latte and vegan donuts from the nearby wholefoods

did a wind down/restorative yoga class at 4pm

checked out market 57 for food, starbucks reserve, and the google store

sunday:

did a vinyasa flow class with robert nguyen that was quite intense. equinox instructors are all a little intense/arrogant lol, they really do not baby you in class

had an early dinner at jeju where we had a crazy dinner: the meal consisted of uni, caviar, wagyu, tartare, truffle, scallops, and lobster

walked back to market 57 and tried a signature latte (with blackberries and thyme), picked up xin fu tang boba and banana pudding from magnolia bakery

went back to the equinox gym where matt ran 30 minutes while i did an inclined walk

my stomach felt like crap that night, with mixing of all the above foods - on top of drinking tea, and eating blueberries lol

monday:

we had scheduled a hot yoga class for that morning but i wasn’t feeling well so i slept in. matt went for a 30 minute run and picked up some starbucks oatmeal for me. i called off half day from work.

checked out, got back to our apartment around 1pm and decided to go to hot yoga at our usual studio at 4pm with our favorite instructor matty

we were both so tired and knocked out by 10pm last night

the price is hefty, but i told matt that it’s worth it because of how rejuvenating the experience is and it is a very healthy treat for himself. i believe it’s better to spend on wellness than to spend on something material. the gym is his element. it’s also always interesting to people watch at places like this.

instead of keeping my bike in the bike rack down in the basement, it’s now stored in the apartment so that i can more easily go out for bike rides. i don’t have to rely on matt to help me carry my bike up two flights of stairs from the basement. it’s still quite a drag to get my bike from the room into the elevator and then down/up a few stairs, but i went for 3 solo bike rides last week and really enjoyed it! the first ride was about 5 miles, the second and third were about a 10 miles roundtrip. it’s a great way to start my day and to force myself to leave the apartment and get in some cardio. i decked out my bike - it now has a basket and phone mount. i realized my recent anxiety was breeding from boredom, and the best way to combat that is by doing more.

there’s always some anxiety when i haven’t done something for a while or if i’m doing something for the first time (i.e. socialize, bike ride, drive, go to a new area etc) but i cannot be avoidant. the anxiety i have comes from having too much down time, where i have time to worry about things i normally wouldn’t think about if i had a busier schedule. i would just go do it.

i’m spending 4th of july mostly alone, or matt may come home earlier. again, i always have fomo and wish i had family around during the holidays. it’s something i want to bring up in therapy.

interviews/applications have been really busy for matt. it seems he had about 10 (one in person, the other calls/virtual) in the past month or so. arrowhead is flying him out for an in-person interview on 7/11, and i am tagging along. they are paying for his flight, 3 day rental car and 2 nights at a hotel. i’m excited to be on this journey with him. it’s starting to feel like he’s “VIP”. as his partner, i am also defaulted to being in the advisor role. like in spiderman, “with great power comes great responsibility”. whew, it ain’t easy.

another thing i want to bring up in therapy is this transition in class/wealth. for me, it’s the guilt that i get to experience such nice and luxurious things, that i feel undeserving. that i fear i will come off as “showing off” to my family if i share my experiences, or make them feel bad. at the same time, i realize feeling guilty is also negating all our hard efforts and sacrifices.

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vampireapple · 2 years

Text

Specification is Important

Something seems fishy about the omelets the crew made for Human Steve and Human James

. . .

“Human Steve! Human James! We wanted to share in your culture on this very important day of Cheese Appreciation, so we made you both an omelet for breakfast!”

Both humans paused in the doorway of the mess hall, blinking at their crewmates. It took a moment for the words to register in their tired brains. Steve’s brain clicked first and he grinned brightly. James said a pleased thank you a second later.

(Steve was always a little faster walking up in the morning, he said it was because he drank coffee, which was obviously the superior beverage, James said it was because of his stupid American energy, and that good tea should be savored in the morning- they had yet to come to any form of agreement)

“I’d love to try it!” Steve said, walking over to the table.

“How did you guys find ingredients for omelets?” James asked as he followed Steve.

“It was not too difficult, the last port had all we needed.”

“The most difficult part was figuring out what recipe to use.”

“There were so many!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, people have wildly different tastes.”

The men sat down and looked at their plates. The omelets looked a little different. Maybe they didn’t use a yoke? Or it was some weird powdered egg stuff?

James decided to let Steve take the first bite. He was more discerning than Steve when it came to food. Steve called him picky. James called him a garbage disposal.

Steve took a bite and immediately regretted it. He forced himself to chew and swallow. James was silently laughing at him, he just knew it. He hoped the others couldn’t read the tension in his body language.

“Wow! That certainly was creative! What, um, what did you put in it?”

The crew brightened and they started speaking over each other.

“Onions!”

“Munster cheese!”

“Bell peppers.”

“Cheddar cheese.”

“Black pepper.”

Salmon eggs.”

“Mushrooms!”

“Salt.”

Steve’s mind blanked at salmon eggs. James was shaking. He just knew the Brit was trying not to laugh, the bastard.

“Salmon… eggs?”

“Only the best for our human crew!”

“The recipe said eggs, so we researched earth eggs-”

“- and discovered that caviar is a delicacy-”

“-and got salmon eggs because they make the best caviar!”

The four looked very pleased with themselves and the care they had given to researching earth cuisine. Steve smiled weakly. James’ face was getting red. One of the more observant members picked up that something was wrong.

“Is there a problem with the omelets?”

Steve began to sweat. He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to make them feel bad. “Omelets are usually made with… chicken eggs.”

“Chickens?”

“But those creatures are filthy!”

James lost it, howling with laughter. Steve kicked his chair out from under him. James wheezed as he hit the floor, but kept cackling. Steve ignored him.

“Yeah, chickens. Um, I guess none of the recipes specified that?”

The heartbroken looks were answer enough. Steve felt really bad.

“Its okay though! I promise! We’ll still eat the eggs!”

James stopped laughing. Steve smirked.

(both of them ate all their omelet, though the crew couldn’t figure out why Human James was so grumpy at Human Steve for the next week)

. . .

AN: This was inspired by a tumblr post about people trying to make concrete the way Romans did, but it didn’t work, because the Romans used sea water, not fresh water, but all the Romans knew ‘water’ meant ‘sea water’ and never bothered to specify. Someone else pointed out that all our recipes say ‘egg’ and not ‘chicken egg’ and someone else said in the future people crying while eating scrambled fish eggs. Thus, this story was born.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are crazy #humans are weird #earth is space Australia

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todoscript · 3 years

Photo

SEQUEL TO “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #bnha fic

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mischiefm4n4ged · 2 years

Text

Jegulus | rehab au

A/N: An au I’ve been interested in so I started writing the first chapter of the fanfic, (it’s still in the wizarding world), I wanna know if anyone would read it (I’ll probably write it anyway because it’s fun but just wanna know)

Warning: drugs

“No, I’m good thank-“ Regulus waved his hand at the beans that were making their way onto his plate but the lady snarled at him and completely ignored his request. She stared at him challengingly while Regulus glanced down at the heap of beans on his now soggy toast.

“What’s holding the line?!” Someone shouted and Regulus looked back but it wasn’t the right choice as he felt a small push to his shoulder.

“Come on, move!” A bearded man, a few inches shorter, was staring at him in anger. Regulus looked up at the lady who stood impatiently.

“Sorry” regulus mumbled as he scrambled away to Samuel who was gonna show him to his seat. Samuel was the one responsible to show him around for his first day at the rehab facility, specifically chosen by his mother herself.

“I’m going to the staff room, if you need anything just follow the signs” Samuel waved his slim fingers in a goodbye and regulus just nodded as he took his seat.

“What kind of a fucking place is this?” He mumbled angrily to himself and picked up his fork, only to poke the toast around.

“Didn’t get your side of caviar or something, rich boy?” A deep, mocking voice interrupted his complaints. He looked up across the annoyingly red table and there sat a man with round glasses, something between a stubble and a beard, the messiest raven hair and three healing cuts around the left eye. He looked familiar in a way but Regulus couldn’t recall his face. Then again, he probably wouldn’t recognize his own brother judging by his mental and physical state.

“You don’t know anything about me” regulus said when he found himself getting angrier. The man scoffed and leaned back on his chair as he loudly chewed his cucumber slices.

“Well…poshest one here, says thank you and please in case mummy’s around, you have your own staff who was probably paid separately and you’re clearly a spoiled kid who has never been near the streets oh and also you’re probably your parents’ shameful little secret now.” The man was gesturing with his fork as he casually stuffed his face, as if his talk wasn’t bringing Regulus to tears, tears of anger and frustration that he forced himself to push back.

“Shut the fuck up alright?” Regulus’ nostrils flared as he stared. The black haired looked up, slowly, from his plate, raising his eyebrows into an intimidating stare.

“He is feisty… rich boy”

“Stop calling me that!” Regulus dropped his fork which he wasn’t using anyway and leaned back to his own chair. He wished he could relieve his anger like before, just one smoke, just one pill. He would kneel to get it, he would withstand any curse his mother shot at him if he could experience the high one more time.

“Rich boy” he smirked at Regulus as if it was the funniest thing in the world to see him get riled up.

“Potter! Stop torturing the newbie and eat your food!” A guard standing against the wall just to the right of the table said and Regulus’ heart dropped. Potter, he had heard of that family from eavesdropping on his parents once. Someone called Potter was taking his parents to court for something he was too young to understand.

“Sorry, Rory!” Potter said and put on a lopsided grin at the rhyme.

“Sorry kid… my name is James Potter I’ve been here for almost a month” James said and stretched a hand out across the table. Regulus didn’t mean to, but his gaze landed on the flexed arms and the red bumps right above the veins across his golden tan skin, muggle drugs? He caught himself and quickly shook James’ hand.

“Hi” regulus said quietly and looked away.

“And your name?” James asked, raising his eyebrows again. Regulus scooted up in his chair.

“Um…Reg-reggie“ he was told to change his name but it was already too late now, as long as no one knew his last name then he would be okay.

“Reggie? What’s that short for?”

“It’s not short for anything, that’s my real name” regulus crossed his arms against his chest and James nodded slowly.

“Okay rich boy Reggie” he smirked and Regulus didn’t have the energy to be annoyed but for some reason he was.

“You’re irritating” regulus rolled his eyes.

“I’m irritating?” James mocked his posh accent and laughed, “alright, Rich boy, see ya’round” James winked at him and left the table.

#first draft #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus au

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

“Mom!” Alec hissed.

His mother didn’t turn back.

“Mooooom,” he called her again – and this time she turned back. “I want to go home."

“Alec, we just got here!” his mother said incredulously as they checked their coats into the coakroom.

The guy in the cloakroom gave Alec a token for their coats.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What kind of house has a cloakroom?

His mother was right. They had barely been here for 10 minutes. But Alec already wanted to leave.

“I’m feeling sick,” Alec said. “I should go back home.”

He coughed awkwardly. He was a decent liar.

“What’s wrong?” his mother looked momentarily concerned.

“Uh,” Alec said, not prepared at all. “I got my period.”

Yeah, so that ‘decent liar’ bit might have been an exaggeration.

“Alec,” his mother sighed. “You think I want to do this? This family is one of our largest donors to the university. As the dean, I have to be here. So do you.”

Alec groaned.

As the president of the queer alliance at Idris University, Alec knew he had to talk to people to get the funding they needed. But Alec hated people and he hated talking. He wished Lily or Maia were here instead.

“I know you have your own ways,” his mother said through her teeth as she smiled at one of the guests who was waving at her. “But you need their support. It’s how the game is played.”

“I hate playing the game,” Alec said through his teeth as he cheerily waved at one of the lecturers.

“You know the rules,” she turned to him and adjusted his bowtie. “Just smile and play nice.”

“But-”

“Be charming ,” she interrupted. “That's how fundraising works.”

Alec pouted and then gave her tight nod.

“Albert!” she shouted at one of the guests and made her way towards the old man.

Alec was about to let out a dramatic sigh when a waiter emerged from nowhere.

“Champagne, sir?”

“Thank you,” Alec picked up the flute. “Damn, this is heavy.”

“Crystal, sir,” the waiter pointed.

Alec’s hands suddenly felt very sweaty. He wiped them clumsily on his suit jacket and held the champagne flute carefully.

Another waiter emerged upon him, holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“What’s that?” Alec pointed at the tray.

“Caviar, sir,” the waiter replied.

“Is that cinnamon?” Alec asked at the sprinkled dust on top of the caviar thingies.

If it was cinnamon, he could maybe eat it and have an instant allergic reaction.

Then maybe his mother would let him go home. He hoped.

“Not cinnamon, sir,” the waiter said as Alec took one and popped into his mouth. “It’s edible gold.”

“What?” Alec asked, his mouth full of caviar.

And gold apparently.

“It’s a caviar and crème fraîche tartlet,” the waiter announced in a surprisingly perfect French accent. “Topped with edible gold.”

“You are telling me this is gold?” Alec asked, chewing the food self-consciously. “I’m eating actual gold?”

“Uh, yes sir,” the waiter said awkwardly.

“But why?” Alec demanded, chewing his food angrily now. “Does it improve the taste?”

“No, sir,” the waiter looked embarrassed. “It’s…pretty.”

Alec looked around in disbelief as the waiter made his escape.

Here he was trying to find a couple of thousand dollars to raise funds for his alliance and these people were sprinkling gold on their food for aesthetic.

“Fuck the rich,” Alec muttered.

“Pardon?” someone said from behind him.

Ah, shit! Alec really hoped it was not one of the professors at the university – or worse, one of the donors.

But when he turned around, it was neither.

It was in fact the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen.

“Uh,” Alec said eloquently.

“You were saying something about fucking the rich,” the man smiled. “If it’s a cult, I’m very much interested.”

“Not a cult,” Alec clarified – when he managed to find his voice. Jesus! “Just a personal motto of mine.”

“Very interesting motto you have there…”

“Alec,” he finished. “Alexander.”

Why did he say his full name? He never did that. Alec could be such a weirdo in front of gorgeous men.

“Nice to meet you, Alexander,” the other man said, and Alec’s momentary regret vanished instantly.

He suddenly loved his name. Maybe a little too much.

“I’m Magnus,” the man held out a hand and Alec shook it – and hoped his palm wasn’t as sweaty as before. “Are you here to donate?”

“Pfft,” Alec couldn’t help but snort. “Right. Cause these people need more money.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at charity, Alexander,” Magnus chided. “It’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“What’s this charity for anyway?” Alec asked, because he hadn’t even bothered to ask his mom and spent the whole drive here complaining about the university budget allocations instead.

“The rowing club,” Magnus replied.

“The rowing club?” Alec demanded angrily.

They were a bunch of elite dude bros and were the last people that needed charity.

“They are hoping to purchase new equipment,” Magnus pointed out.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Alec complained. “They don’t even need a fundraiser. They can afford that shit in so many other ways. Like ask them sell one of their Rolexes or Lamborghinis. Charity is for people who don’t have alternatives.”

Magnus blinked and Alec realized he had lost his cool a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just…it isn’t fair.”

“The rowing club boys are right there,” Magnus whispered as he pointed at the buffet. “They might hear you and think you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Alec replied. “I’m outraged that we live in a society that prioritizes the needs of the marginalized over the wants of the privileged.”

Usually this was the point when the other person would give him an awkward smile and escaped immediately from Alec’s boring rants.

But Magnus didn’t look awkward or bored. In fact, his lips curved a little as he gestured Alec to one of the banquet tables.

“Tell me more,” Magnus said as he sat down.

Alec wasn’t really sure what to say. He wasn’t used to reaching this stage of the conversation.

“Fancy new rowing equipment is a want. They can live without their latest gadget and just make do with the equipment they have,” Alec elaborated. “But the safety of queer youth in our university is definitely a need. It’s not something they should have to compromise.”

“The safety of the queer youth?” Magnus frowned. “How are they at risk?”

“There has been increased reporting of cyber bullying by queer students at the university,” Alec sighed. “Our existing reporting mechanisms don’t work.”

“Well, they could complain to HR and-”

“Magnus, when has HR got anything done?” Alec asked.

Magnus frowned again.

“Our data shows that over 60% of the victims of cyber bullying at the university are not only queer, but also people of colour,” Alec elabored. “So, these attacks are racially motivated too.”

“Why isn’t the university doing anything about it?” Magnus demanded, now sounding angry too. “The dean-”

“She is doing the best she can,” Alec intervened – because he knew that to be true. “We have a zero tolerance policy and that works at campus. But on social media..Well, that’s a whole other thing, isn’t it? You can’t really control what other people say or do.”

Magnus frowned again.

Alec realized that he liked it better when the other man smiled. Maybe he was as boring and depressing as everyone said.

“So, what do we do?” Magnus asked.

“We?” Alec blinked.

“I’m a student at the university too,” Magnus said. “Well, I just transferred from London. But still. As a bisexual man and a person of color, I need to be a part of this.”

Alec was beyond happy that someone understood the importance of his cause. It was hard enough to find people who supported the alliance.

But instead of thanking Magnus for his support, Alec’s mouth said “You’re bisexual?”

“And part-Indonesian,” Magnus replied. “So, what do we do, Alexander?”

Alec blinked. “Well, uh, the alliance has been trying to create an app that provides counseling support for queer youth who face bullying online. We can’t really completely get rid of the bullying. That might never happen. But the least we can do is give support for the victims, right?”

Magnus smiled. And yeah, Alec definitely liked it better.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Magnus said.

“Well, it’s just an idea,” Alec shrugged. “We still need to find the funding.”

“Well, why haven’t you?” Magnus asked.

“Because the donors obviously have other priorities,” Alec rolled his eyes, gesturing at the party.

“Oh,” Magnus said.

“But I think if we steal a plate of those caviar thingies, we might be able to scrap off the gold dust and gather a few hundred dollars,” Alec joked.

But Magnus didn’t laugh. Instead he leaped off his chair, ran towards the stage and grabbed the mic.

First of all, why was there a stage? Second of all, what was Magnus doing?

Third of all, who was he? Was he performer for the fundraiser or something?

He did have a really nice voice, Alec noted to himself. Among other nice things.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Magnus called into the mic and everyone turned their attention to him. “I’m Magnus Bane. My father and I are absolutely thrilled to have you at our home this evening.”

Alec, who was sipping on his champagne, most certainly did not choke at that. This was…Magnus’ home?

He was the biggest donor to the university? Or his father was…But whatever.

Alec’s ‘fuck the rich’ motto seemed a little too ironic - maybe even appropriate - right now.

“As the captain of the rowing team,” Magnus said, and Alec did not choke again. “I’ve just heard word from my brothers that there has been a change of plans.”

The rowing club, still standing by the buffet and hogging all the food, looked very confused.

“The rowing club has officially decided to throw a car wash at the university,” Magnus announced and the crowd started whispering around.

“Dude, isn’t that what chicks do?” one of the dude bros laughed.

“Exactly, Chad!” Magnus yelled. “We will be raising money and dismantling the patriarchy at the same time. It’s a win-win!”

A loud cheer went through the room but some people still looked confused.

“But what about the fundraiser?” a woman who was wearing too many pearly necklaces asked. “Are we not making donations today?”

“Yes, we are Mrs. Morgenstern,” Magnus winked at her. “But all donations from today’s event will go the queer alliance of the Idris University. They are raising money to fund an app to provide psychosocial support to victims of cyber bullying.”

Alec noticed his mother turn to look at him in disbelief. Alec shrugged helplessly.

“Is it really necessary though?” an old man from one of the tables asked and Alec had half a mind to dump his champagne on the man’s head. “Can’t they just have one of those support groups where they sit in a circle and talk to each other?”

“They are victims of targeted harassment, Mr. Starkweather,” Magnus replied politely. “They need support that is consistent, reliable and professional. It seems rather unfair to ask victims to support themselves instead of providing them with the required resources.”

“But aren’t they asking for too much?” a blonde woman asked.

“The app will ensure their safety and mental health. They are asking for the bare minimum,” Magnus answered, and Alec noticed the flash of anger in his eyes.

“But if the problem is cyber bullying,” another man in a suit demanded. “Why can’t we just ask them to stay off the internet?”

“Because that would be homophobic,” Magnus said through gritted teeth - but still smiling. Alec knew that look. “The queer students are not the problem. The internet is not at fault either. It’s people and their privilege. It’s people and their inability to treat others with respect – online and offline. These are students. We can’t restrict their access to the internet. For many queer youth, the internet is the only place that is safe enough to express themselves without fear or judgment. So, instead of asking them to stay off the internet, maybe we should consider asking the bullies and homophobes to practice basic human decency.”

“Damn, son!” someone whistled impressively.

Alec knew that whistle. He was going to hug the hell out of his mother later.

There was a moment of silence in the room, then a man approached the stage and pulled Magnus into a hug.

“What an excellent idea, Magnus!” the man who looked very much like Magnus beamed.

“It’s not my idea,” Magnus said. “All the credit goes to the alliance.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet this alliance!” Mr. Bane nodded in approval. “Ladies and Gentlemen! What a fine cause! What an important change in action! Allow me to be the first to support these brave and inspiring group of young people.”

“Thank you, Bapa!” Magnus smiled sweetly. “It’s so wonderful to see you supporting this cause. This is going to go viral on the internet.”

The moment Magnus said the words viral and internet, multiple guests got off their seats and started heading towards the donations table.

“He knows how to play the game,” Alec's mother said as she walked up to him. “He would make a fine addition to your alliance, Alec. You should ask him to join.”

“I will. He is bisexual,” Alec replied.

“He is also very handsome,” his mother pointed out innocently.

“Don't even!” Alec pointed a finger at her as she chuckled and joined the crowd.

By the end of the night, the fundraiser had gatherd thrice the amount the alliance needed to create the app.

“So…” he said as he approached Magnus. “I wanted to say thank you.”

“I was wondering maybe you could say it on Saturday,” Magnus suggested.

“Saturday?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“The car wash, Alexander!” Magnus pouted. “I was here for your fundraiser. It’s only fair that you come for mine.”

“Well, that depends,” Alec said. “Will you be wearing a bikini?”

“Nah,” Magnus chuckled. “I was hoping to go shirtless.”

“In that case, you’ll definitely see me there,” Alec said seriously.

He didn’t even have a car. But he could always egg Jace’s car and take it.

“You want to get out of here?” Magnus asked, pointing at the crowd.

“Uh, isn’t this like your party or something?” Alec asked. “Shouldn’t you be here to entertain the guests?”

Magnus looked around and shrugged. “Fuck the rich.”

Alec couldn’t help but grin at that. He took Magnus’ hand as they ran towards the garden.

Fuck the rich indeed.

- For @radisv for being amazing. Always. Happy Birthday. ILY!

#this is a crack fic and I will not apologise :)#malec fics #malec #dani writes stuff #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEBE I LOVE YOU

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tickly-trashcan · 3 years

Text

Sweets Galore {Haruhi, Mori, and Honey}

A/N: ahhh hi dear! Thank you for the request~! I originally planned on just having Mori and Honey, but decided to do all three after a little thinking, hope you don’t mind! I really enjoyed writing this one, I hope you enjoy and have a lovely day! make sure to drink your water!! :D (also i didn’t proofread this bc i was in a bit of a rush so i apologize in advance for any errors fnjdkjf)

Summary: Honey’s been eating through the Host Club’s funds... literally. So Haruhi and Mori decide to help.

Word Count: 1.1k (under the cut)

Kyoya sighed as he looked down at his clipboard, catching the attention of Haruhi as she cleaned up the table.

The Host Club had just wrapped up for the day, all the guests had gone. Haruhi, Mori, and Kyoya had stayed behind to clean up the tea and treats that had been consumed, picking up the dainty porcelain plates and cups.

“What’s wrong, Kyoya?” Haruhi asked, turning her head to look at him as he pushed up his glasses, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing too bad, we’re just experiencing a little… financial difficulty.”

Haruhi hummed, nodding her head. Kyoya was in charge of the finances of the club, and they normally made more than they put in, but from the sounds of it that might be changing.

“What kind of financial difficulty?” Mori asked quietly. Haruhi glanced at him, not expecting him to talk. Though, he did seem a lot more open when there weren’t guests around, so she brushed it off.

“The food expenses. Now, we buy plenty of food to keep the guests fed, but not too much where it will spoil. We have cucumber sandwiches and cheese scones, and we stay away from expensive treats like caviar crackers, but it’s the sweets that are bringing up high marks in the report. The cakes, candies, eclairs… and I think I know where it’s coming from.”

Haruhi and Mori looked at each other knowingly. They knew where the sweets dilemma was coming from as well. It could be none other than Honey, the resident sweets devourer that the girls adored, constantly buying into his ravenous habit.

Kyoya scribbled something down on his clipboard before turning to Haruhi and Mori, who just finished cleaning.

“Would you two be able to talk to Honey about the sweets? He’s only making himself sick anyway, he could easily cut back on the sweets.”

Mori nodded and Haruhi turned, facing him.

“Should we take care of this tomorrow?” She asked, and Mori hummed, nodding again before leaving the host club with Kyoya and Haruhi.

The next day, Honey was swarmed with guests who pampered him with sweets and goodies as he devoured them. The guests cooed at him as Haruhi and Mori rolled their eyes, waiting for most of the guests to leave the host club.

Everyone was wrapping up, Hikaru and Kaoru were teasing Tamaki as Kyoya asked Mori and Haruhi if they were going to take care of Honey. They nodded, walking over to the shorter boy as he finished off the sweets, patting his tummy as he sighed happily.

He glanced up at the pair from his seat on one of the sofas, smiling.

“Hey you two! Want some cake? Er… crumbs?”

Haruhi rolled her eyes, turning to Mori, who had said earlier that he had a plan for taking care of Honey. He hadn’t specified what, but she trusted him since he knew Honey better than she did. Mori took a step towards Honey, crossing his arms before speaking.

“You need to cut back on sweets, Honey.”

“Whaaaaat?!”

It was strangely direct, but that was Mori. Direct and concise. Honey immediately shook his head, pouting as he crossed his arms.

“No way! Sweets are my lifeline!”

Mori turned to Haruhi, giving her a brief nod to signal for her to follow along. Mori turned back to Honey, uncrossing his arms and holding up his hands slightly as Haruhi raised an eyebrow.

“Then you leave me no choice. Here comes the tickle monster.”

The deadpan way Mori spoke almost made Haruhi snort, but she managed to keep herself together as Honey squeaked, backing up on the couch, about to make a break for it.

“N-No! No tickle monster!”

Haruhi gaped slightly, surprised that Honey was actually intimidated by what Mori said. Mori advanced and Honey shrieked, quickly dissolving into high-pitched giggles as Mori squeezed his sides, Honey collapsing on the couch.

The noise quickly attracted the other club members, and some of the others walked over to watch as Mori wrecked Honey.

“What’s he doing?” Hikaru asked, concern displaying on his features. Haruhi shrugged.

“Honey’s been eating too many sweets, so Mori’s playing uhm… tickle monster.”

“Haruhi,” Came Mori’s voice over Honey’s screeching laughter, and Haruhi turned. “Can you help?”

Haruhi looked around then nodded, walking over to the screaming Honey as Mori now tickled his tummy, scribbling his fingers around expertly as Honey squirmed around.

“Hahahahaharuhi! Hehehehelp meee!”

“Sure, I’ll help,” She said, her tone slightly teasing as she leaned down. “What happens if I tickle you… here?”

“Trahahahahaitor!” Honey wailed when Haruhi lightly danced her fingers across Honey’s ribs. He clamped his arms down, nearly crushing Haruhi’s hands from his strength as she winced, continuing.

Honey seemed to notice through his hysterical laughter and pulled his arms away slightly, not wanting to hurt Haruhi. He focused on Mori, grabbing onto his wrists and tried to pull his hands away because of the tummy tickles that were driving Honey up the wall in ticklish agony.

“Mohohohohori! Not the tuhuhummy! Plehehehehease!”

Mori glanced at Honey’s pink face, deciding to relent slightly and instead started to lightly squeeze his hips, making him kick his legs as his laughter softened slightly, but still remained quite loud.

Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki, and Kyoya watched from afar, occasionally making comments that went unheard by the trio as Haruhi and Mori continued to tickle the living hell out of their poor friend.

“If you promise to stop eating so many sweets we’ll stop,” Haruhi offered, and Mori nodded, seeming to have forgotten why he was tickling Honey in the first place. Honey shook his head, unable to respond through his laughter, and Haruhi and Mori took it as a sign to keep going.

“Wahahahait! Wahahait, plehehease!”

Haruhi became slightly worried and slowed her tickling, but Mori continued at the same pace. He noticed Haruhi slowing down and nudged her softly.

“He can take it. He’s been tickled worse than this before.”

“We can confirm!” The twins said in unison from afar and Haruhi couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Nohohoho! Leave me alohohohone!”

“Will you cut back on sweets?” Mori asked, and Honey finally nodded, squirming and curling up as he tried to fend off the ticklish sensations.

“Okahahahay! I’ll stop! I wohohon’t eat anymore sweeheets!”

Haruhi and Mori stopped, giving Honey a chance to breathe as he curled up, whining.

“Honey, you can still eat sweets, just not as many. You’ll make yourself sick,” Mori said softly, and Honey looked up at him with pleading eyes as he smiled widely.

“Really?”

“Really,” Haruhi assured, and Honey cheered.

“Okay! Then can I have some cake now?”

Haruhi and Mori chuckled, shaking their heads.

“Not right now, but tomorrow you can,” Haruhi said and Honey pouted, about to protest before he thought better of it, hopping off the couch and looking up at his friends.

“Alright! Let’s all have some cake tomorrow!”

#haruhi #mori #honey #ouran high school host club #tickle fic #veryblushyswitch

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