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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

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Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x male reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #bisexual steve harrington #bi steve harrington

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fictionalnormalcy · 4 years ago

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9 hiccstrid

Rather belated, but here ya go! Hiccstrid, prompt #9: Watching movie/ TV show

“All right,” Hiccup yelled as he opened the door, “we are all set for movie night!”

He slipped in and out, shutting the door and letting the bags in his arm slump to the floor. He slipped the mask off before placing the locks. His hand reached over to the little table where the sanitizing alcohol lay. He turned the nozzle toward him and left out a few sprits, then sprayed the groceries. As he set down the bottle, something came through the hallway door.

“Thank goodness!” He heard a voice shout from the kitchen. “Trip go okay?”

He stared at what lay beneath him. A cat with black fur was walking elegantly through the hallway, tail pointed upward and head poised. There was a parrot with blue and yellow feathers perched on his back, head rotating as if she watched imaginary subjects beneath her. Hiccup slowly picked up the groceries, following the two creatures until they entered the kitchen.

“Just fine. As I was leaving though the store filled up with people they had to lock the entrances.” He placed the bags on the island.

Coming over to the stove and placing a kiss on Astrid’s cheek. He leaned against the countertop, able to see the cat and parrot go back into the living room through the alternate doorway.

“Then you luckily just missed the rush.” She smirked. “Managed to find everything?”

“Got the last rainbow sherbet. Everything else there was still enough.” He made his way back to the bags, beginning to open the fridge to put in the perishables.

“The stir fry’s almost ready,” Astrid commented, “by the way thanks for cutting the chicken beforehand.”

“You’re welcome milady. Figured we’d split the meal prep. Hey, did you know Stormfly’s riding on Toothless’ back?”

At his sentence, she set down the spoon and turned away from the stove. Just in time to see the two pets coming down the hallway a second time. The both of them staying quiet and heads following as they took steps into the kitchen and back into the living room.

“She looks like a queen being paraded on a furry throne.”

“Toothless is trying to look just as regal.”

“So he’s okay with it then.”

“This isn’t the first time they’ve done it.”

“You’ve seen them do it before?”

“This is the, tenth? Time it’s happened.”

Astrid stifled a laugh. “Well I mean if they’re both enjoying it then we should just let them do their little routine.”

“Yeah well you’re not the one who has to worry about brushing out her feathers from his fur each night!”

As Hiccup turned to look at her Astrid could no longer maintain her composure and started laughing, chest heaving as her eyes squeezed shut. For a second she stopped, but the same image must’ve popped into her head because she started laughing once again. Hiccup pouted, offering a har har as he crossed his arms.

“She doesn’t shed that much.” She said the midst of a laugh.

“I know I know, but it’s weird to be getting ready for bed, he hops up on the counter, wants to be pet, and then there’s blue feathers nestled into his black fur.”

“Okay then.” She wore a large grin. “We can take turns then, combing the feathers out. Eat, then movie?”

“Let’s do it.” He took out two bowls.

“So what are we watching?” He asked hesitantly.

“My turn to pick,” She nestled onto the couch with him, “and we watching Netflix.”

“Browse?”

“Nah, I was talking about it the other day with Ruff, she and Tuff found one called Veronica.”

“And lemme guess, it’s a-”

“It’s a horror movie.”

“Eyup. Saw this coming.” He let out an anxious breath.

“There’s no jump scares.” She mentioned in attempt to be helpful.

“Yeah okay. But what’s it about?”

“Actually based on a true story.” She plugged the letters into the search bar. “Set in 1995, in Spain. A girl and her friends had a seance during a solar eclipse and a spirit comes to haunt her. A rare paranormal case, left unsolved.”

“Oh great. So this is could actually happen.” His head sagged back onto the couch.

Astrid giggled, taking a pillow from beside her and placing it on Hiccup’s chest.

“You can cover your face at the parts you don’t want to see.”

“Thanks.”

However while they watched the movie the two of them came closer together until Astrid was curled into Hiccup’s chest, the pillow slipping to the floor. They’d had to put subtitles because neither knew Spanish fluently, but so far it was an interesting watch. Hiccup had begun to tense at the part where the kids were sleeping in the living room, and Veronica had been watching the shadow getting closer and closer to them.

When all of a sudden there was a loud crash from somewhere in the apartment, making both Hiccup and Astrid jump. In the movie the door had just slid open. Astrid lunged for the remote and hit pause. He could feel her breathing hard against him, elbow digging into his stomach as she sat upright. Once she’d stood, Hiccup seized the pillow and pressed it to his face.

“At just the right moment,” He said with heavy breaths.

She stepped toward where they’d heard the sound, in time for Stormfly to fly over her head and head straight for her perch next to the living room window. Glancing into the kitchen, she saw Toothless slowly digging a paw into spilled trash. Astrid let out a shaky breath.

“What is it?” Hiccup asked.

She settled back onto the couch. “Toothless knocked over the trash can.”

She pressed a hand to her forehead.

“You know, we can finish it tomorrow, if you want.”

“No no, we’ve already made it this far. No point in extending the scariness over a night.” He gestured for her to come closer.

“I didn’t think it’d get us this on edge.” She took his arm and draped it over her.

“It’s based on a true story. That makes it freakier.” He took the remote and pressed play.

For the rest of the movie, they stayed close to one another. Their hands intertwining, and when one would tense up, a hand would squeeze the other. But they made it through the movie, the girl’s demonic scream haunting the apartment.

A/N: I am far from a horror movie buff, but I would highly recommend this movie. Veronica is a wonderful watch, is based on a true story, and yes can be found on Netflix.

#intimacy prompts #httyd #short fic #my fic #hiccup haddock the third #astrid hofferson #toothless #stormfly #modern day au #hiccstrid #drakaina-amore64 #thank you for the request

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svnarintaro · 4 years ago

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alsooo can i have sero for the alphabet prompt? i’ve been soft for him lately hehe

sero sfw alphabet

a/n: sero is so slept on :( alrighty yssa i gotchu

A - Affection (how do they show that they love you?)

he will always buy you snacks. like you will always find little baggies of candy whenever you two are together. he just shows you that he cares with the amount of snacks that he buys you. he knows what is good and he will suggest new things to try all the time

B - Beginning (how did the relationship start?)

you guys should probably be friends first, like the level of friendship where you guys can hang out and not say anything. when he asks you out it would be while the two of you were hanging out at night and underneath the stars and the moon and he just asks.

C - Cuddles (how do they cuddle?)

bby boy is a big spoon. he cuddles his homies regularly but with you he never lets go, he likes watching a show with you and complaining about how dumb the main characters are or the way that they speak kind of irritate you two.

D - Domestic (what will settling down with them look like?)

he sucks at cleaning up, like he leaves his dishes in his room all the time. you better be resiliant to remind him all the time, cause he will take forever to actually get him to clean. he does throw killer parties and celebrations are usually held at your place if you are cool with it

E - Engaged (when will they pop the question and how?)

i feel like it would take a year after you guys graduate or dating. when he finds someone he is 100% sure that they are the one. i know for a fact that this bby is a total sucker for soft gestures, so he takes you to the location of your first date and he will propose there <3

F - Forever (how long does it take for them to feel fully committed)

he trusts you but he hopes that you don’t break his heart. he will drop his guard when you tell him that you love him with all your heart. that is the moment where he feels that he was made for you and only you

G - Gentle (how gentle are they around you? do they usually act soft?)

trust me when i say this man is a secret simp. he will never have the heart to yell at you. he will let you yell at him but he will never raise his voice at you. he will 100% try and talk things out with you and he will try to understand you.

H - Hugs (what are their hugs like? do they like hugs? how do they ask for hugs?)

W A R M he is surprisingly a hugger, he will always wrap his arms around your waist and sway you from left to right and his hugs are long so they really make you feel loved.

I - I love you (how long does it take for them to say ‘i love you’ and how do they express it without saying it)

he is super vocal about it. he will say it whenever you want him to say it, he will tell you before you leave. no matter how long the two of you are together he will tell you that he loves you unconditionally

J - Jealousy (how do they act when they are jealous)

passive aggressive to the max. let me tell you his tone says it all. when he tells a person off they get the message along with the harsh glare that sero gives off. he trusts you but if the person goes as faras to touch you in a suggestive way he will jump in

K - Kisses (what are their kisses like?)

he is a soft guy, he likes kisses that are as light as a butterfly. he likes kissing you before he goes off somewhere and it is super cute. he is the ceo of cheek kisses cause that is where he likes to give you a kiss or two

L - Little ones (how do they feel about kids? how many would they like to have?)

he is a kid guy. maybe two or three if he is able to. he would want to have sons just as chaotic as he is but if you are truly up for it he would joke about having five kids just for you two to have a baby bakusquad

M - Mornings (what are mornings like with them?)

loud and actually productive. he likes waking up and blasting hype music to wake the two of you up and the two of you have a mini dance party. i feel like he would try his best to try and make eggs for the two of you to enjoy.

N - Nights (what are nights like with them

he hands the speaker to you cause he feels like you have the better music taste when it comes to winding down. the two of you maybe have a few friends over once in a while to play a board game or a card game. either way you always try to have a great time before you fall asleep

O - Open (how open are they about their feelings? how do they show that they trust you)

he isn’t that open with his feelings. you just have to pester him about it, whenever you feel like his smile is fake please tell him and try to get him to talk to you or else he will just collapse from the pressure of being a hero

P - Puppy (how doting are they? do they follow you around everywhere?)

whenever he is free then yes but when he has a life to also uphold. but when he is super clingy. he will pout and whine all night until you hop into his arms and it shows :”)

Q - Quizzes (how many things do they remember about you? how many details can they recall about you?)

anything that has to do about video games or food. he forgets your birthday sometimes but he always remembers things that you want so he can get them for your birthday. he will always do his best to never forget your little habits.

R - Remember (what is the best memory for them?)

when he first celebrated your birthday he legit wrapped his give in tape and laughed at you when you had to open it

S - Safe (how protective are they?)

he isn’t the most buff but he will always be a boulder whenever you need him. he will be the one place where you can go whenever you need to have a solid cry. you usually can come over to his place like a mess he will open his arms for you to run into them

T - Try (how many new things do you guys try?)

he is usually up to almost anything as long as it is safe and it makes you happy. he will totally be up for cosplaying with you. he is just so chill with everything that you bring up

U - Ugly (what are some bad habits they have?)

he is insecure about himself. his elbows, his face. almost everything about him. he usually can spend hours in the mirror just to criticize himself and all the things he finds terrible. if you tell him that he is handsome and that you love him for who he is.

V - Vanity (how much do they think about their looks around you?)

as a person who is super insecure he is always thinking about how his smile looks. he tries so hard to make himself look good for you but if you tell him to just be himself he will let loose bit by bit.

W - Whole (do they feel incomplete without you?)

he isn’t the most clingy but he misses you a lot. he usually never tells you unless he gets super serious but he truly he is a living mess without you

X - Xtra (a random headcanon)

he smells like light smokey musk

Y - Yearning (how clingy are they?)

not that clingy but he loves having you around all the time. he likes holding you but it’s not like he can’t live without you. he likes how the two of you are comfortable with having a healthy amount of space

Z - Zzz (what are their sleeping habits?)

sleeps like a log. he legitimately snores so loudly, but if you can deal with that you are quite welcome to sleep with him in the same bed. when he tries to fall asleep he moves his legs a lot os sometime that can get annoying but overall he is not a bad person to sleep next to.

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the-synergized-heroes · 3 years ago

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A Short Fun One: It's happening!

Synergy booked it down the halls, pumping his legs faster and faster. He had to let them know, their work hadn't been for nothing. All the months of planning, biding their time, the ever so slight pushes and careful manipulations. It had been leading up to this. He just had to help make it official.

THE CAFFETERIA

"So yeeeeh, all of you cool cats and fine fillies are welcome to join me at the hottest spot in town," Isao said with a snap of his fingers and the sway of his hips. "The coolest joint with a lil bit of everything!" "...an arcade you work at part-time?" Hachi said, lowering his glasses in skepticism, a band of intense light shining on Isao's face.

"Yes my illuminated lovely, the perfect spot to chill, hang, game, eat party and just have fantastic fun!"

"...your boss gives you extra time on all the Dance Dance Revolution Machines if you invite more people to this place, don't they?," Jaehee said, scowling at Isao.

"Someone has made it their mission to beat all my high scores. I gotta end this coup before the script gets flipped for good." Isao said with a level of seriousness no one at the table had seen before. They couldn't help but burst out laughing. Jaehee sighed. "Look, thank you for the invite Isao but between studying and all our internships starting soon-" "Loud noises of early 2000's electro pop rock, bright neon pixel lights, and food so sugary that even an American would think twice? I'm in." Yoko said, shaking some sort of mystery flavor lunchbox she had ordered. She scanned it with her quirk, shook her head, and tossed it into Ryouta's parasite. It munched loudly as Ryouta let out a laugh. "You had us at party and sealed it with sugary food! But I guess Jaehee isn't come-"

"NO! I-I mean Yoko's right, as usual. I was gonna say that uuuh...between studying, it would be a wonderful break, yeah, we should all go!" Jaehee's breathing seemed a little faster. "Perfect! I'll ask around for who else from our class can make it! It shall be a night to remem-" "IT'S HAPPPENING!" Synergy yelled slamming through the lunch doors and tumbling over a table. He leapt back to his feet, four of him in fact, all spoke over each together.

"WATCH THE SKIES FOR WE HAVE LIFTOFF!"

"WE NEED TO SET UP SNACKS! NO, CHARGE TICKETS!"

"RYOUTA WE DID IT! GET THE CHAMPAGNE DUDE OR CIDER OR TEA WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU CAN DRINK MAN WE DID IT!!"

"Whoa whoa whoa Dummy-sensei, what is it? What did we do? Cause that thing with chickens, Mineta, and the pet food went very very badly and my parasite can only put so many out of their misery so fast."

"HOW THE HELL WERE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW BAKUGO WAS ALLERGIC TO CHICKEN FEATHERS?!" They each said in unison, prompting a loud shush from Lunch-Rush, the cafeteria cook and hero. Synergy scowled back. "Oh shut up, this is a mess hall not a library!" Jaehee jabbed the other Synergies. They all spasmed with the hum of an electric jolt in the air, and slumped to the floor. She grabbed the standing Synergy and pulled him to her level. "Dummy-Sensei focus! We cannot have a repeat of the chicken incident and I don't have Palm-sensei's number in my phone!" "I didn't know they could scream like that loud..." Yoko said with a shudder. Hachi put a hand to his sunglasses, frustration spreading across his face. "Do you want to get solar-glared Dummy-sensei?" " The face-off between Bāsuto Kosuke and Iida Tenya! The Roaring Star VS. Ingenium! THE RACE! I've finally engineered a series of circumstances where the two most extra cool supportive buff class dudes are ACUTALLY PISSED ENOUGH at each other that they go all out! I've got a whole crew of me down at the training courses, getting them ready."

The stared at Synergy, trying to process what he just said. "...wait, for months?" Hachi said, not sure what to make of this.

"I think we need to roll back to the fact Dummy-sensei has apparently been socially engineering us," Jaehee said, remembering that for all of Synergies odd tendencies, he was still a capable adult hero with too much time on his hands. "And that Ryouta has apparently been helping!" Ryouta looked between his classmates the same way a cornered rat did when looking for an exit. "uUUUUUUuuuUuUuuUUuh-hey look Chapu!" Chapu bounded into the cafeteria, exhausted. He looked between Jaehee and Hachi panic all over his face, flailing his arms and hopping in place. "Need your help! Need to stop him before-" Chapu felt his arms gripped by Hachi, trying to hold him in place. "Slow-down chapu what is it?" "Iida and Kosuke are racing!" "It's cool right?!" Synergy said with a massive smile on his face. "AND DAITAN IS ENTERING!" Synergy felt his heart sink as he fell to his knees shaking. He started smacking his stunned duplicates to try and get them moving. Eventually he gave up and jumped to his feet, looking around frantically. "No, no no not Daitan! ANYONE but Daitan!" "Why? Cause he'll definitely hurt himself?" "CAUSE KNOWING HIS CRAZY ASS HE MIGHT WIN!!" Synergy took off back down the hallway, shouting back to the students in the cafeteria. "And that'll throw off my bets!" The students watched Synergy round a corner, a burst of Synergies yelling "get out of the way, move!" as he scrambled through the school. Chapu was behind him, trying to get his attention. The rest of students were left in a now mostly empty cafeteria. "Soooo...are we gonna for sure watch that disaster of race. " "Oh absolutely," Yoko said. She grabbed Jaehee's hand and dragged her out of the out of the cafeteria, the other students running right behind them.

#class 1-V #synergy #it's a thing!

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broken-clover · 4 years ago

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AU-gust Day 16- Treasure Hunters

Hmph. I was so sure I’d be able to finish yesterday, but after being stuck in a car so long I guess I was just too tired.

This one isn’t especially long, and I’m not sure if it really counts, either? I mean, treasure hunting is involved, but I mostly wanted to do something with my GG Persona AU. Then again, what, am I going to go to jail if I don’t do all the prompts perfectly?...well, maybe.

(Also this one has a smidge of Sinbed because self-indulgence. Sorry not sorry)

For a guy who wore an eyepatch, Sin had pretty good eyesight, at least when it came to scouting. The good new about that was he made for an excellent finder of treasure chests hidden at the end of dungeon hallways, and seeing how their ragtag ‘Investigation Team’ was made up entirely of schoolkids with shaky paychecks on the best of days, they appreciated any shiny trinkets they could sell off for healing items and weapon upgrades.

The biggest downside was that, though he was an excellent chest-finder, he wasn’t quite as good as noticing the shadows guarding it until it was too late.

“Dammit, it was guarded?” He hissed, recoiling as the dark sludge formed into a trio of Principality.

“And they’re decently strong ones, too! But it doesn’t look like there’s a good way to evade them, we can’t run!” Said Potemkin, balling his large hands into fists. “Should we try and call the rest of the team? I’m not sure if they’re too far away to hear, but-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Elphelt shouted, pulling out Miss Travallier to shoot her card and summon Anteros. “Just don’t let your guard down!”

They didn’t have any major tricks up their sleeve, but between Potemkin’s physical skills, Elphelt’s healing spells, Ram’s fire, and his own pool of Personas on-hand, Sin couldn’t find it in him to be especially worried.

Elphelt boosted everyone’s defense with Marakukaja before taking a step back. Potemkin lunged forward to attack head-on, and Sin summoned Perseus to fire up a Mazionga. They seemed off to a strong start, with the two victims of their attacks taking a decent chunk of their health off before they could even attack. If they kept up the quick attacks, then they had a pretty good chance to make it out unscathed, right? He was feeling confident about that.

...At least until a flurry of cards tangled around Elphelt, and she suddenly collapsed to the ground like a marionette with snipped strings.

“El?!” He shouted, falling back halfway through another lightning strike. Sin dug through his pockets for a revival bead while Perseus took a thankfully nonlethal blow. “Guys, be careful! At least one of them has an instant-kill spell!”

They still had a few beads on-hand, but as soon as he felt Elphelt stir, he heard Potemkin shout in pain and felt the vibration of him collapsing. “S-shit! El! Get up! We’re taking hits!”

“I am injured.” Ramlethal’s voice managed to carry over the other sounds of the firefight, with a definite tinge of concern to her usually-neutral tone. Nike was fast, but she still struggled to dodge the attacks of three enemies all at once, all the while with Ram trying to find a revival item for Potemkin.

The three shadows managed to get lucky with instant-kill spells remarkably often, leaving the remaining members scrambling to use whatever revival items they had while avoiding more potshots, and any hits they could actually land were quickly healed.

“Dammit! My SP is almost gone! Do we have anything for that?!” Sin barked, as Perseus fired a flimsy bolt of lightning that barely nicked one of the Principality.

“I-I think Ram just drank our last coffee…” El stammered in reply, trying to revive Potemkin yet again while only hobbling by on a handful of HP, herself. “I have enough for a few more healing spells, but we’ve only got the one bead left. Are you sure we can’t run?”

At every opportunity, they had tried, only for the shadows to intercept them. He liked being an optimist, but Sin knew that things had gone horribly downhill. When he tried to conjure more electricity, all it got him in return was a hard smack that knocked his Persona to the ground.

“Shit, brace yourselves- !”

“Did someone need assistance?”

A familiar silver-and-purple gundam skated into the room, throwing up a barrier wall to catch a couple of magic blasts.

“Finally! There you are, we’ve been looking for you!” An echoing voice came from the large machine, but its mouth didn’t move. “Good think you make such a racket.”

“Bedman! About time!” Sin felt himself grinning.

“Looks like you’re all in rough shape. Good thing I brought backup.”

The shadows were still too distracted by the new barrier to care much about the newcomers who ran into the treasure room right under their noses. Ariadne and Thalassa carried Bridget and May in their respective free arms, while Zappa ran along behind. The mechanical Persona began releasing purple smoke from its head-pipes, and a glimmering veil surrounded both it and the second half of the Investigation Team.

“Get ready for an overclock!” The echoing voice shouted. “You're buffed! May, you’re on healer duty, but just focus on knocking out those shadows!”

“Roger!” Bridget hopped off of Ariadne, and began barraging the Principality with physical attacks as soon as the barrier wall began to fragment. Zappa trailed behind with curse spells as Mania dangled over him limply. May did as instructed, throwing on a few mild healing spells, but the evasion buffs made it so it was less necessary than usual.

Following the initial difficulty, the battle swiftly shifted sides. The enemies finally burst back into piles of darkness and faded away, leaving behind nothing but a small pile of money.

“Oh, god, finally…” Sin sat on the ground and tried to catch his breath. “Nearly thought we were goners for a second.”

“Don’t run off like that next time!” May chided him. “How did you even get stuck in here in the first place, it’s a dead end!”

He pointed over his shoulder. “I saw a chest! I thought there’d be something valuable in it.”

“Well, if we cleared this room out, more shadows shouldn’t appear for a while, right?” Asked Elphelt, as she wandered toward the unattended box on a pedestal. “And since that almost got us into some hot water, it’d better be something good.”

“Yeah!” Sin managed to spring back up, following after her. “I’ve got the picks, let’s see what we got!”

Everyone else trailed behind, more than a little interested in whatever shiny trinket was so interesting that it nearly got half their team killed. Sin easily jimmied the lock open, pried the creaky lid back, and...

“Uh...looks like a cheap gemstone...and a piece of armor we already have.”

A collective groan went through the group, plus a few muffled curses and less-than-polite gestures. Sin still pocketed the small gem, but he was in the same boat as the rest of them. “Well, I guess you win some, you lose some. Let’s head back to the safe room to take a break. Bedman, think you can carry Pot? I don’t think we’ll have any luck trying it ourselves.”

The mecha nodded, scooping the unconscious man up like a sack of potatoes. “Everyone can hop on if they don’t feel like walking.”

A few took him up on the offer, and they all headed back. Maybe it was just imaginary, but the safe room felt far warmer and cozier than the rest of the dungeon. At least they knew no more shadows would be popping out to take them by surprise.

“Must be nice having a Persona you can ride in, Bedman.” Bridget said, sliding off the machine’s arm. “Ariadne can barely carry me!”

“Morpheus is remarkably comfortable on the inside, though I can admit it was frightening the first time I was dragged into him. For all I knew, he could have been trying to eat me.”

“I’ve got sandwiches!” Zappa chirped, hoisting up a makeshift lunchbox for everyone to see. “The boss lets me take the ready-made ones once they’re passed the sell-by date, but I promise they’re still good!”

“Ah, damn, that sounds perfect right now.” Sin went up to grab half of a turkey sandwich and begin munching on it.

After being revived, Potemkin found a place to sit near his much smaller leader. “I’m glad you were able to figure something out in the end. But next time, let’s be more careful. Treasure rooms are often more dangerous than one would expect.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Replied Sin, between bites of sandwich. “How’s Kratos?”

“Perfectly fine, I just don’t summon him unless I need him.” Potemkin reached across the table to pull out an egg sandwich, which looked positively miniscule in his large hands. “I’m not sure why you leave yours out so much when we aren’t in battle.”

Sin tilted his head. “Huh? What do you mean? He isn’t out now.”

The man gave him an odd look back. “What do you mean? He’s up there.”

When he looked up to where Potemkin was pointing, Sin was surprised to see that he was right. Perseus hadn’t dissipated, instead he sat on Morpheus’s shoulder, apparently perfectly comfortable where he was. He’d never realized how large Morpheus was, especially odd considering the respective sizes of their owners, but there was plenty of space for his Persona to sit and relax on his teammate.

“Huh?” The girls seemed to notice his staring. “What’s Perseus doing…?”

“I dunno, El. I didn’t make him do that.” He shrugged back. “Why does it even matter?”

“Hmm…” Despite herself, Elphelt had to side-eye the rather affectionate way Perseus cuddled up on his teammate, wrapping an arm around one of his pipe-horns. Hey, weren’t Personas supposed to be a manifestation of their owners...? “Hey, Sin, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Do you...have a crush on anyone?”

Sin balked. “The heck? What does that have to do with anything? What made you ask?”

Behind him, Perseus’ gloved hand stroked Morpheus’ sleek metal head, before he went back to cuddling his horn.

Elphelt glanced away, resisting the urge to blush. “No reason. Just wondering.”

#AU-gust #writing #guilty gear

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jmeelee · 6 years ago

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oh jmeelee, my absolute favorite sterek crack dealer... i read something somewhere once about how this persons grandfather told them about when the grandma gets mad at him, he tightens the pickle jar lid so that she'll have to talk to him and in my head i see sterek... hook me up??? stiles is pissed at derek and derek does whatever he can to get stiles to talk to him...

As Mason orders his typical post-workout smoothie, Stiles valiantly fights a grimace, and loses. He’s 99.9 percent sure drinking something so green, when it’s not a shamrock shake from McDonald’s, is illegal and punishable by death. Stiles rattles off his usual strawberry-peach-banana combo, and they fall into the uncomfortable art-deco chairs at the juice bar.

“Sixty days, man!” Mason crows, tapping the rim of his plastic cup against Stiles’. “We are on a freakin’ roll. You feeling stronger? I know I am.”

Mason’s a superb gym buddy. Aside from the fact they are the only two human members of the pack, they have a lot in common. They’re similar in body type, so they can easily spot each other during workouts. Both naturally curious individuals, their conversation between sets flows effortlessly from rare books, research and possession, to the pros and cons of having a werewolf best friend. They’re both in love with supernatural creatures.

It’s like they’re the same person, if Stiles were a gay black man.

Stiles does feel stronger. He looks stronger. Derek’s been admiring the cut of his shoulders and biceps when Stiles dresses for work in the morning, eyes and mouth appreciating the hint—and due to his curly fry addiction, it will forever remain only a hint—of definition in his abs and Adonis belt. Stiles can do a dozen pull ups now, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, definitely,” Stiles replies through his teeth as he gnaws on the end of his straw. “There’s just… one little problem.”

Some days, he can’t open a friggin’ pickle jar.

Mason sets down his drink, and gives Stiles his full attention at the declaration. “What?”

“It’s insane, dude. I have no idea what the hell is going on! I even bought one of those hand worker-outer thingies.” Stiles curls his fingers, makes grabby hands in front of Mason’s confused face.

“You mean a grip strengthener?” Mason asks, brow furrowed.

“Yeah. Like I said, a hand worker-outer thingy. I use it, like, six times a day. I’m telling you, if I do it anymore my hands will be so strong”— he lowers his voice, mimes jerking off under the counter—“I might break Derek’s dick off. Or worse, my own.”

The barista behind the counter squints menacingly at him, so he places his hands back on the counter-top, digits encircling his frosty drink. “It doesn’t always happen, but sometimes I still can’t open stuff. It’s so weird.”

Mason squints. “What do you do when you can’t open things?”

“Derek opens them for me.” Stiles feels zero shame in the admission. He’s dating a super buff werewolf; he’d be an idiot not to put Derek’s bulging muscles to work.

Mason is quiet, biting at his full bottom lip. Stiles assumes he’s deep in thought, until he spots a grin trying to peek out from behind the curtain of white teeth.

“What’s so funny?” Stiles asks.

The smile comes out to play. “It’s Derek.”

At first Stiles thinks he means Derek has physically walked into the cafe, and glances around, but he quickly realizes his mistake.

“Wait… what? No! Derek would never.”

“Think, Stiles,” Mason prompts, leaning over the counter. “You said it doesn’t always happen, right? What was the last thing you couldn’t open?”

“Last weekend I couldn’t open the green olives. Hey, isn’t it weird green olives come in a jar but black olives come in a can? I wonder why…” He reaches for his phone.

Mason smack his hand. “Focus. By any chance did you and Derek get into a fight before you couldn’t open the olives?”

Oh, shit. Stiles burned the grilled cheese, and when Derek had tried to offer unsolicited, unhelpful advice, Stiles had thrown a spatula and ordered Derek out of the kitchen. That night, his salty midnight snack was foiled by a too-tight top. A few weeks ago, Stiles had made fun of Derek’s boxers because they had tiny wolves on them, and his tortilla chips went salsa-less. A month and a half ago his BLT was dry because he couldn’t get the mayo cap unscrewed after he and Derek loudly disagreed on a paint color for the bathroom.

“Corey does the same thing to me, so I’ll quit giving him the silent treatment when we argue. Oh, and black olives come in jars, too. The ones in cans are artificially ripened.” Mason sips his green concoction and watches realization dawn across Stiles’ face. “Mystery solved.”

+++++

Stiles stalks into their house like he’s the predator. “Damn it, Derek! I know what you’ve been doing!”

Derek lowers the volume on the television and raises a bushy eyebrow. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The pickles! The pickles, Derek!” Stiles flails his arms. “How could you? You know I love pickles!”

“Stiles, what the f—”

“You’ve been tightening all the jars so I’ll have to talk to you after we fight!”

Derek blinks, eyes wide and innocent, and leans back into the leather couch cushions. “Does that seem like something I’d do?”

“Uh, yeah!” Stiles squawks. “You’re almost as big of an asshole as I am, and that’s totally something I’d do if I’d thought of it first. Admit it, Derek.”

Derek smiles, the self-satisfied smile of someone who thinks he’s won. “Never.”

Stiles’ fists dig into his hips. “Fine. But you get none of this”—he motions up and down his own body— “until you admit I’m right.”

“So, to be clear, we’re arguing about how we argue?” Derek deadpans.

“Damn right we are.”

Derek unmutes the TV and turns back to his cooking show. “You won’t last three days.”

Stiles huffs. We’ll see about that.

+++++

He so could have lasted three days, except on day two Derek went out for a run in the preserve and Stiles knew he had at least forty-five minutes of alone time, so he flung off his pants and flopped into bed, grabbing the lube from the nightstand drawer.

Only to find the plastic flip-top cap glued shut and the whole cover screwed so tightly he knows he’ll never get it open.

In his rage, he pulls on his jeans and hops down the stairs, bottle clutched firmly in his fist. He shoots into the woods as fast as his legs will carry him, screaming his husband’s name at the top of his lungs.

Derek, barely breathless, silently slides up next to him fifteen minutes later. Stiles shakes the bottle in his face. “How dare you?”

Derek has the audacity to laugh at Stiles’ pain. “Is this any worse than you not speaking to me when I put the toilet paper roll on the ‘wrong way’?” The words are punctuated by bitchy air quotes and a massive eye roll.

“The paper comes over the top, Derek. It’s science.”

“Or how we almost got divorced because you insisted the person who takes out the trash shouldn’t have to replace the garbage bag in the can?”

“That’s teamwork!”

“Stiles.” Derek gently takes Stiles’ free hand in his sweaty palm. “We’re married ten years. Can we please agree to solve our problems like adults? No more pettiness, from either side. Truce?”

Stiles’ glare lasts all of ten seconds. “Ugh, fine. Truce. But you should totally make this up to my poor, disappointed dick.” He shoves the sloshing liquid into the middle of Derek’s firm chest. “Now can we please go home?”

Derek smiles, all sharp teeth, and whips his damp grey t-shirt over his unfairly attractive head. “We could walk the half mile back to the house.” Derek’s head cocks in the direction of their home, hidden from sight through the trees. “Or I could make it up to you right here.” He pops a claw, and pierces the lube bottle.

Stiles fumbles for his zipper.

Here works.

#sterek #eternalsterek #haleinski #sterek fic #sterek ficlet

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aspected-benefic · 5 years ago

Text

Prompt #10: Foster

and we open up with a shot of the house just like a sitcom

wc: 2,825 (putting word count total here as a warning)

((This is a headcanon I had way back during the great server shuffle. Though my main characters are currently on Sargatanas, I also consider Faerie my second home. I have a private free company there (thanks to @abeat who signed the petition for me :D~) and a cottage in Mist. At some point, long before server merges were announced, I had the idea to make an alt on Siren to take advantage of the Road to 60 buff, level said alt's crafters, then move said alt to Faerie. The first one was Apple, but for various reasons, I stayed off of Apple for a month and missed the Road to 60 buff window to level all the crafters. D'oh! Sometime later, I made Yet Another Alt - Azrael - to accomplish the same thing. Thanks to @abeat again (she is such a sweetie, I swear...) I created another FC to pass items between Apple and Az. Apple created levekit items, Az leveled very quickly, especially thanks to Road to 60, and he succeeded to get all his crafters to 60.

That's the IRL backstory. This is the headcanon I had in regards to moving the Siren characters to Faerie, the novelty of the One Lone Boy, and said One Lone Boy's social anxiety.))

[1]

The xaela, Xiaoning Shou, drummed her large stack of papers on the table until they stacked together evenly. "That about covers this meeting's topics--oh! No, wait. One more thing!"

A green-haired viera, Alto Aria, and a pink-haired lalafell, Princess Kneesaa, tilted their heads to the side in perfect synch.

"Concerning the upcoming, ah, move incentives, and the subsequent pending of three new members to our tiny free company, Vermilion Forest, I have some good news, some bad news, and some interesting news. Which news did you all want to hear first?"

Alto took a long sip of her tea. "Bad news? Oh dear. Let me finish this cup first."

Kneesaa folded her hands together on the table as a princess would when bracing herself for unpleasant news. "Please to tell us all the bad news firstly. Get it out of our way."

"Well, I got ahold of Apple Gardenia, our contact in the, um, other realm, and she said she couldn't get the amount of skill level required for the free company recruit message. Which, as a reminder, was to get all of her disciples of hand to a high enough standard." Xiaoning held up her hand to the other two before they had anything to add. "However! She raised an apprentice who can make us guildleve kits! And has mastered every disciple of the hand to a high enough level! Even beyond what we asked for! That's the good news. Now here comes the interesting news."

Alto and Kneesaa leaned in.

"It's..."

Alto and Kneesaa leaned in further.

"... a boy."

Alto and Kneesaa fell over.

"A boy?!" Alto clenched her hands together.

"In our all-girl free company?" Kneesaa chimed in.

"Vermilion Forest just happened to be all-girl by coincidence..." Xiaoning started but was promptly cut off as Alto and Kneesaa stood to their full heights and slammed their hands on the table.

"Oh gods, do we have to allot a separate bathroom for him?" Alto asked.

"Our bathrooms are gender neutral, just like my inn--"

"What's his name?" Kneesaa asked.

"Azrael Megid, I think--"

"Race?"

"Au Ra Xaela, like me--"

"Personality?"

"Quiet? Apple says he's very shy, but a hard worker and a good person overall." Xiaoning pressed on before the other two had anything else to add. "And you know the other best part of this good news is?"

"What's that?" the other two asked in unison.

"He's a PALADIN!"

Alto and Kneesaa clasped their hands together as their starry eyes envisioned a tall au ra man clad in head-to-toe armor. "Ooohhh...!"

The last point in case was the last push their excitement meter needed. For Xiaoning and Alto, a Red Mage and Composer respectively, a tank could escort them into dangerous areas quickly. For Kneesaa, a White Mage or Scholar depending on her mood, she could have a reliable escort into dangerous areas. This proposition seemed full of win.

Soon, any pretenses of formality melted in a gaggle of flails and squeals.

"Still! A boy in the free company! A boy! So exciting!"

"Imagine, having a boy around! a boy in the house! In chat!"

Outside the free company house, the squeals of excited girls rang throughout the entire ward.

Meanwhile, on the aforementioned realm, smoke billowed out the chimney of a small blacksmith forge. Inside, among other things, a rack of impeccably crafted greatswords laid on the wall. Untouched. Unmoving.

Until one hinge at the far end unceremoniously snapped.

In the blink of an eye, the sword barely began its descent downwards when a blur skidded into the vicinity and caught the blade in his hands. Once stopped, the blur revealed itself to be a red-haired au ra in a crouched position.

"Phew."

The au ra, Azrael Megid, stared at his works. He looked up to see the broken hinge in question. He had just built that rack himself. There was no way that anything short of bad luck could have broken it.

Unless... it was a bad omen.

Azrael furrowed his brow. "Somehow, I have a bad feeling..."

[2]

Since Apple first taught him the ropes of crafting, she had warned him that eventually they would move to a new free company. That he was getting recruited for the specific task of making guildleve items. No big deal. Azrael liked to help out. Before he came to Eorzea, he had been a blacksmith by trade in the first place, both as a cover story and an actual trade. He loved creating more than destroying. Points for that. He'll have a place to stay, revenue, and a cover story. Check.

The problem? Imminent social interaction.

Even though he could speak to his free company mates Apple Gardenia and Haruka Kinome now, before he found himself at a loss for words.

What do I say? What do I say...?

That night, Azrael tossed and turned in his sleep. His thoughts of carrying a conversation - a regular old fashioned oh yes let's talk about harmless topics for hours and this and that - continued to haunt his dreams.

Eight pairs of hands raised in front of him. "Make us all the things, Azrael!"

Azrael in his dream tried to speak but nothing came out except for a few awkward noises.

Those same eight pairs of hands raised in front of him again. "Escort us through the dungeons, Azrael!" chirped the plethora of DPS and healers.

And him as the only tank in the entire free company.

"A-all at once? Today?" Azrael stuttered in his nightmare.

Azrael woke up in a cold sweat. He shot up and pressed a hand to his chest. Perhaps one day he would warm up to the idea of saying hello. That day wouldn't be moving day.

[3]

The fated moving day. According to a letter from Apple, the transfer papers went through without any problems and the trio were on their way. While Xiaoning could have just invited all three to the free company and day over; go home, what fun was that? Instead, Xiaoning also decided to host a small welcoming party.

A large banner saying Welcome, Sirenites! hung on the overhead partition facing the front door. On the counters laid various baked goods and other snacks and tidbits. Xiaoning, Kneessaa and Alto positioned themselves to be immediately visible as soon as the new people walked through the door. All three girls hopped in place and looked at each other with anxious, bright smiles. Neither of them could wait to see the new people!

The doorknob rattled. The trio perked up. "Here they come. Here they come!"

The door burst open. In strode a miqo'te like she had just returned home from a long day's work at the farm. Her brown, braided pigtails fell on both sides of her muscular shoulders and her face was covered in freckles. She wasn't particularly pretty, but her broad smile made everyone feel warm and welcome in her presence.

"Hey, y'all! We finally made it! Nice t'finally meet'cha'll in person!" Apple said in her unique Lominsan drawl.

"Apple! So glad you could make it! I'm so happy to see you!"

Xiaoning bounded over to Apple and wrapped her arms around the miqo'te in a giant hug. Apple returned the hug with equal force. Apple lifted Xiaoning up. Xiaoning lifted Apple up. Alto and Kneesaa came over to share the hug as well.

"Hey, everyone, this is Apple Gardenia." Xiaoning gestured to the brown-haired miqo'te. "We've maintained contact ever since she first sent her recruitment letter. She's really friendly!"

Apple laughed. "As they say back at the farm, ya wanna keep everyone happy, ya gotta feed 'em, and kindness and love are nourishment for the soul. But ya ain't gotta tell me twice to be nice. I love people! Gimme another hug!"

More group hugs. More group lifting. Except in Kneesaa's case where she gently petted everyone's knees.

A knock on the door momentarily stopped the joyous union. Unlike before, where Apple most likely rattled the door knob just to see if she had to kick a locked door down or not, this knock came as polite, yet firm. Deliberate. Like someone polite but of authority.

Xiaoning popped her head from out of the crowd. "The door's open!"

"Excuse me," said a female voice in the same gentle, yet firm manner.

The door closed behind her. There stood a beautiful female hyur with reddish-pink hair that fell into curls on her shoulders. She held her hands in front of her white attire - a garment that could only be politely called a dress, and truthfully called lingerie.

"My true name is Princess Weyll, but you, like, know me on the register as Haruka Kinome. Like, a pleasure to meet you all." The hyur known as Haruka curtsied.

The trio of Vermilion Forest stared at Haruka in awe. "Oh wow, she's so beautiful." "She looks just like a real princess!" "Look at that flawless skin!"

Xiaoning returned the bow. "A pleasure to meet you."

Kneesaa looked up in awe. "Another princess! Kneesaa had yet to meet another like her! Princesses must have pink hair!"

Haruka held a hand to her mouth in a dainty laugh. She curtsied to Kneesaa and smiled. "Yes. Like, a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

The house quickly filled up with chatter and laughter. So excited the Vermillion Forest trio were to have new members into their small free company - and meet two new people in general - that they had completely forgotten their other point of anticipation and excitement. That was, until Kneesaa spoke up.

"Was there not one more to walk through the door?" the lalafell asked.

Apple and Haruka looked at each other. Both raised their eyebrows and smiled a combination of sheepish and awkward before turning to the trio with the same expressions.

"Y'all mean Azrael?" Apple asked. "He, uh, well..."

Haruka giggled again. "He's very shy. You could say he's not, like, properly acclimated to people."

"No kiddin'. On the battlefield, the kid fights like a primal incarnate, but anywhere else, you say anything more than hi to him and he folds over like a shrinkin' violet. Knowin' him, he'll show up long after everyone's gone to bed. Dun worry. Just do what I did when I first met 'im and leave some notes."

Xiaoning nodded. "I guess that will have to do for now."

Kneesaa bowed her head. "While it would have been nice to see our imminent one body come to the free company, we shall respect these wishes."

Alto smiled and raised her conductor's baton. "For now, though, how about a little music to kick off this celebration? We have food! Help yourself!"

Apple clasped her hands together. "Oh boy! Food! Man, I'm sure starvin'! All that hikin' from one land to another's gotten me beat!"

"Well, like, don't mind if I do. Thank you for setting this all up!" Without hesitation, Haruka took a cookie.

The joyous festivities lasted well into the night. The music and chatter could be heard deep into the ward. Only after the sun began to rise in the horizon did the lights finally go out.

[4]

Another day, another morning. An hour after everyone had cleared out of the free company house, the door opened with a decisive turn of the knob and a pushing of the door. Azrael peered into the building through the top of the door. Inside looked like a bazaar - yes, this was definitely the correct house. A little cramped for someone of his height, but well spaced for someone shorter. Not one was there to greet him, not even a mender or a vendor often employed in housing wards. So far so good. He closed the door behind him. Time to check out the place.

Immediately, one item caught his eye: a piece of paper with his name on it pinned to the wall. He bent over bring his face eye level to the parchment.

To Azrael,

Hello and welcome to Vermilion Forest! On behalf of everyone here, I hope you enjoy your stay. Thank you for answering our recruitment call for a levekit crafter. If it's not too much trouble, do you mind getting started as soon as you can? Here are a list of things to make. Please place the items in the third slot of the free company chest. Speaking of which, you are free to use any mats in there to help you out. But don't take everything and run! We know who you are and where you live! Anyway, thank you very much! -Xiaoning.

Xiaoning's warning made Azrael chuckle. Such honesty. And on top of that, someone - most likely Apple - must have told Xiaoning to leave a note for him, rather than scold him to become more sociable. He appreciated that.

The items Xiaoning listed were guildleve items. Azrael rolled up his sleeve. Time to get to work.

[5]

Xiaoning didn't awake until well into the afternoon. She yawned and smoothed down her long, black hair as she entered the free company home. "Good morning, everyone..." she mumbled into the special linkpearl created for the free company.

"Good morning, Xiaoning.." muttered a few equally tired voices.

A quick glance to the wall showed that the note Xiaoning had pinned there earlier that morning had gone. Did someone move it? Was Xiaoning just dreaming in thinking she had made a note?

Or did the one lone boy come to the free company after all?

Xiaoning looked at the free company roster. No, his name was there, just like the other newcomers. Azrael Megid.

Did that mean he had seen the note? Curiously, Xiaoning peered into the free company chest, slot three.

All of the items Xiaoning had asked for laid neatly in each compartment.

Xiaoning removed one of said items: an Iron Celata. She held the helmet in front of her head, turning it every which way to inspect in the light. Just as Apple had said, Azrael's craftsmanship was careful, precise and impeccable. Exactly what Xiaoning was recruiting for.

Tucked into the helm was parchment. Seemed too deliberately placed to have been Xiaoning's old note rolled up and put away. Sure enough, the note had been addressed to her. Or whoever saw it in general.

Thank you for having me. I'll do my best. -Az.

Xiaoning smiled and tucked the parchment away in her personal satchel. She had a feeling that the one lone boy would get along in the free company just fine.

[Epilogue]

"Everyone, quick! Come to the inn." Xiaoning whispered into the free company chat. "A visitor named Azrael Megid had checked himself in earlier this evening. It could be the very same one lone boy of our free company!"

Soon, the stairwell of the Ruby Phoenix Inn leading downstairs to the actual in area became crowded. Alto and Kneesaa arrived first, dying of curiosity. Apple and Haruka also arrived, though more curious than anything to see how this event played out.

Lead by Xiaoning, the group tip-toed downstairs into the inn area. The inn rooms themselves had no doors, but carefully placed partitions so people couldn't immediately see who or what was inside. Which meant they couldn't catch a glimpse of this mysterious lone boy of the free company beforehand. Although certainly a male presence had made its way here - the further along the group moved, the louder the breathing noises became. At the end of the hall, Xiaoning gestured to the group. With Alto's head on the top, Xiaoning's in the middle and Kneesaa's on the bottom, the trio peered in the room.

Lying on his back too deep in sleep to notice anything but his own slumber, was Azrael Megid, the fabled lone boy of the free company.

"Oh, there he is. So that's what he looks like." said Alto. "Au ra standards must be different, but to me, he looks so young."

"He is young. The less scales they have, the younger they are." Xiaoning whispered. "He's a xaela, just like me."

"He is so tall!" Kneesaa cooed in a whisper. "He is also very muscular. They look even bigger than yours, Xiaoning."

"What? Really? ... well what do you know..."

Azrael, completely asleep and unaware of his visitors, stirred in his sleep. His soft moan acted like a needle to burst Xiaoning, Kneesaa and Alto's collective contained excitement. The novelty! The difference! Squealing like a bunch of schoolgirls, they ran up the stairs. Apple and Haruka moved out of the way to let them pass, then smiled and shrugged to each other.

"Such a lively group." said Haruka.

"You could say that again." chuckled Apple.

#ffxiv #FFxivWrite2019 #lazy tag

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subtlerain · 6 years ago

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Blue & Gold

→ College Athlete!Namjoon x Reader

A/N: Thank you to my lovely mutual @charlesgrey1875 for requesting! You’re so supportive and lovely and I really hope you love this super fluffy au with Namjoonie! This was so fun to write, and super refreshing, as all the other fics/series I’ve been writing have been a lot heavier. Hope you enjoy! <3

Pop some prompts/requests in my ask → here

You hopped on the balls of your feet, excitement buzzing through your body, “Come on, we’re gonna be late!” You called to your roommate from the front door.

Mina, looking utterly bored, emerged from her bedroom, yawning, as she started her usual protests on nights like these, “Do we really have to go this time? They’ve had so many—”

You checked your glittery face paint in the mirror once more, “Yes! Of course we do! We go to every game.”

Mina crossed her arms, but slipped on her shoes anyway, “Fine. Only because their season is ending soon.” She grinned at you prettily as she shoved the team hat on her head, colours of gold and royal blue matching the t-shirt you had shoved her in earlier in the evening.

You looked at her expectantly.

She rolled her makeup-less eyes, “And because I love you.”

Satisfied, you reached around her and grabbed at the door handle, practically shoving her out of the door. She sighed again as you made your way through the dorm hallway, surrounded by other students, clad in your University colours.

Mina linked her arm through yours, and looked at you sideways, “I don’t understand how you’re so comfortable dressing up so much.”

You grinned, “It’s fun.” You said simply.

She pulled at your shirt, “I’m just amazed that you somehow find a way to add more gold glitter to your outfits as the season progresses.

You grinned wider at her, and looked down at yourself. You were the number-one fan of your university varsity football team. The title of “number one fan” wasn’t one you proclaimed, but rather grew into, after developing an intense and rather unusual interest in football in your freshman year. You, the bubbly sophomore arts student, was known all around campus.

You loved it.

You had never missed a game, not once, and you were always dressed from head to toe in your school colours. In fact, you owned so many football-game school colour clothes that you had a variety of options when crafting your look.

Today, you were sporting a navy miniskirt with a gold trim, along with an oversized tee that read, “GO BUFFALOS” in thick, gold writing. You had on gold, sparkly converse—a product of your own DIY project, which you were very proud of—high navy socks, and the classic baseball hat topping off your look.

Oh, and you could never forget the face paint, temporary tattoos, and giant styrofoam sign.

Mina giggled and leaned into your shoulder, “I do admit, you manage to pull of the adorkable look pretty well.”

You shook your head at your friend in amusement and made your way out of the dorm, and into the warm, spring night.

There was excited chatter all around you, students from all four years and from all programs walking together to the football field. That was one of the things you loved so much about football games. No matter who you were, what program you were in, there was always a seat for you on the bleachers.

Nothing was better for making friends and building school spirit than a good ol’ university football game.

You noticed Mina looking at you for about the hundredth time, and you swivelled your head around to glance at her in question. Observant one, she was.

She narrowed her brown eyes, “You got new makeup, didn’t you?”

You pretended to think, and you shrugged meekly, adjusting your hat that did not need adjusting.

Mina, who had seen your I-feel-uncomfortable-because-you-caught-me look, leaned in, giggling at the blush spreading to your cheeks.

She lowered her voice a tone, “It’s because of Namjoon, isn’t it?”

You swung your head, eyes like saucers, “Just—shhh! I didn’t say that!” You hissed.

She smirked, “You didn’t say anything, but that blush told me all I needed to know.”

You huffed, but let a smile creep onto your lips.

Ah yes, Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon, the junior quarterback who had caught your eye in the very first game you attended in university.

Kim Namjoon, the adorable athlete with eyes a deep brown like the smoothest chocolate, heart as golden as the sun, dimples as deep as the ocean.

There were not enough words in the dictionary to describe him, although with the smarts he possessed, you were sure he knew quite a few more than you.

Your heart did a little flip-flop, and you cursed Mina for bringing him to the front of your brain.

Although, your thoughts of him had been lurking around in your head anyway…

You smiled at your feet. You’d thought you’d left sappy, heartbreaking crushes back in high school, but as soon as you saw Namjoon run out onto the field after being dragged to your first football game, it was all over.

In the beginning, you had tried to push it off as just an infatuation, it wouldn’t surprise you if nearly every other girl sitting on the bleachers also had their eye on him. But each game, you saw how hard he worked leading his team, the reassuring looks that he would give them if the opposing team gained a point, and the proud look he would give the other boys when they would win a game.

He wasn’t just a football star who liked attention, he was a kind and cooperative member of the team. His leadership was admirable, his kindness was blinding.

Mina crossed her arms again as the two of you made your way onto the bleachers, “Honestly Y/N, you could’ve talked to him way earlier if you had just become a cheerleader.”

You scoffed and looked down at the cheerleaders who were practicing their high kicks and stretching on the side of the field, pleated skirts and high ponytails and all.

You raised your eyebrows, “I have next to none athletic ability, I’d probably kill someone in the tryout.”

Mina giggled, “You’re right. Plus, half of those girls are only on the team so they can sleep around with the football team.”

Your lips twitched into a frown.

Even though Namjoon had captured your heart easily, it was undoubtedly one-sided. He had never looked at you when you walked past him on campus, had never looked up and smiled when you cheered the loudest at every game.

It seemed that everyone knew you were the biggest fan, except the one you cheered for the most.

“Y/N! The game is starting!” Mina nudged your shoulder, jolting you from your disappointed thoughts.

Oh well.

Sure enough, the usual happenings of the starting of a football game were taking place: cheerleaders getting into their first positions, the buzz of the crowd, the ruffling of popcorn and chip bags.

It was an orchestra of familiar sounds, and your excitement only heightened as the large, breakable banners displaying each team colour raised on each side of the dome, in front of the exit of the locker rooms.

The loudspeaker crackled, and the announcers booming voice echoed in the stadium.

Cheers from your university’s side of the dome rumbled as the announcer spoke of your team, the opposite side taking its turn to cheer when the opposing team was announced.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you looked across the dome, red and white colours littering the opposing side.

The Mountain Lions.

Busy with your classes as the school year was coming to a close, you completely forgot to check who the opposing side would be. The opposing varsity team was good—well great actually—and had often been one one of your own team’s greatest competitors.

You clenched your jaw as the announcer continued to ramble.

Mina rested her hand on your leg, “They’ll be okay.” She assured, but you could see the worried look in her own eyes.

“And now, for our away team, The Mountain Lions!”

The crowd on the other side boomed, and from the left side of the dome, the floor rumbled.

Their quarterback emerged first, his hands up in the air in a cheer for himself. He was a buff blonde, and you narrowed your eyes as he made his rounds around the dome, his other team members—emphasis on the fact that they are on the same team—filing out behind him as he continued to run around, basking in the cheers from his side.

Ugh, the stereotypical football jerk.

Their cheerleaders erupted into their first cheer—the blatant disses towards your home team not going unnoticed—until they finally settled and the chorus died down a little.

“Here we go…” You whispered, your heart thumping in your chest.

You tried to imagine Namjoon and his team in the locker rooms, huddled and nervous-excited for their game. They were all valued players, each with varying skills and specialities.

They knew each other like the back of their hands, and their trust in each member was oh-so apparent.

“And for our home team, the pride and joy of our campus, The Buffalos!”

You stood up instantly, your cheer loud above the rest as the spotlights landed on the giant royal blue and gold ribbon that would be ripped by your home team any moment.

Mina nudged your shoulder playfully, and you knew full well that she was watching your reaction to the appearance of Namjoon.

The dome erupted as the varsity team burst through the ribbon, clumped together with smiles on their faces. Your heart clenched as Namjoon appeared, his dimples apparent even from your place in the middle of the bleachers.

He waved happily, clapping his teammates on the back as he weaved through them. They were like brothers; inseparable.

And gosh, he was glowing.

You watched Namjoon carefully, gnawing at your lower lip as he furrowed his brows at the opposing team, before turning away again. You knew he was smart enough not to psyche himself out before a big game, but you knew he was nervous all the same, the pressure to win was always high, especially at the end of a season.

Your own cheerleaders started up, lifts and flips that you were still amazed anyone would want to attempt.

The game was starting.

Helmets: on

Mouth-guards: in

Crowd: buzzing

Namjoon bounced on his toes like he always did, and you gripped your sign tighter.

What was he thinking about?

He was venerable, he was the leader of your school’s top team, the pride and joy of the athletics program. Everyone knew him, guys and girls alike wanted to be his friend—date him if they were so lucky—and yet, he always seemed so quiet when you would see him on campus in jeans and a sweater, heading to his humanity classes that he took as electives.

He wore glasses sometimes—thick, black-framed ones—and he would sweep his hair back in a messy wave. Sometimes if you were lucky, you stumble across him in the library or in a coffee shop on campus.

He was usually alone, or with one or two of his team members, but he was scarcely at parties, and you had never seen him with a girl.

You bit your lip at the possibly that under all that football gear and padding, through his focused, strong, all-star athlete exterior, there was just a down-to-earth and shy guy.

And maybe that was why you were so attracted to him; you knew Kim Namjoon is more than meets the eye.

You felt a nudge at your side, and looked to see Mina with pursed lips, staring out at the field. She pointed, “Hey, who is that again?”

You followed her finger and unwavering gaze, letting a smile flick at the corner of your lips.

You narrowed your eyes, “Kim Taehyung. Sophomore, plays wide receiver. His major is in acting, if you can believe that.”

Mina’s eyes widened, “Really? Acting?”

You bit your lip and watched her eyes train on the blonde-haired player, who was bouncing around the field.

She grinned, “He’s like a cute little puppy.”

You giggled, “Glad you came?”

She shrugged, eyes still trained on the football player.

Only a minute passed before all the players were in position, your heart racing as your team got into offence, your eyes trailing Namjoon as he crouched down before centre.

And…

Go.

Everyone was on their feet as the first play was made, your eyes going from player to player as he ran and passed, a smear of red and white and blue and gold painting the field.

Your heart clenched as opposing sides smashed into each other, and you could nearly feel the adrenaline surging through each team, as they passed and tackled.

The game was intense from the first pass, and you nearly forgot to breathe each time anyone would try to tackle Namjoon, clenching your jaw as you saw his other teammates end up in a pile of bodies.

Pass.

Tackle.

Run!

Point.

You were engaged the whole time, your shoulders hunched and eyes burning as you watched every move intensely.

You glanced worriedly at the score board, the points now tied for each team. The air of the crowd had changed to a stale worry, because the Buffalos never lost.

Mina leaned over to you, “It’s nearing the end, Y/N.”

You only gnawed on your bottom lip with worry as the game continued, each side looking more and more tense.

Not only tense, but the tight competition had brought on a harsh roughness in the players, and tackling became more ruthless and determined.

Both teams chasing the win, that only one could have.

It was so close.

Your heart sank as the opposing team suddenly gained a point, their fastest player dodging the tackles from your home team that were just a little to late.

Boos from your side, cheers from the opposition.

Your ears perked up at the conversation behind you, the voices among the disgruntled sighs.

“Do you think they can do it?”

“I doubt it, they’re getting tired and the other team isn’t giving up. Now they’re a point behind.”

You frowned as you watched the players get into their final position, the last chance for your team to get a point before time ran out.

You watched as Namjoon shared discouraged glances with the other members of his team, his eyes that were also so bright and encouraging now a little dull.

“They’re gonna get torn apart if they don’t win.”

“…This will be humiliating…”

So much pressure was put upon the shoulders of this team, of the team you had been invested in since your freshman year. Your eyes burned into Namjoon’s back as he called a team huddle, and you noticed his half-mouthed smile, his eyes that glanced worriedly at the scoreboard.

He can’t give up.

It was a burning fire in the pit of your stomach that made your knuckles turn white from your tight grip on your sign, that made your eyes narrow because, they can’t give up.

Encouragement, no matter how small, could make a big difference. Words of support, from any tiny voice, could speak volumes.

So that’s exactly what you did.

“Y/N, what are you—“ Mina started, startled as you got up from your seat.

You clenched your jaw as you stepped up on the bleacher seat, ignoring the confused glances from other students as you told with wobbly knees.

Your eyes were trained on Namjoon as he started to pull away from his team huddle, and you took in a deep breath and cupped your hands around your mouth.

“KIM NAM-JOON!”

Your voice echoed, and it was louder than you anticipated, but his head snapped up naturally, along with a thousand others.

Mina shifted, and she pulled on your arm, “Y/N! What the hell—“

Confusion was the only emotion laced in his features as he looked around the dome, his other team members searching their eyes around the stadium for the voice that had suddenly captured everyone’s attention.

And then his large brown eyes landed on yours, and that was your cue.

You wondered if he could hear your pounding heart from all the way down on the field.

Your ears burned as all attention was on you—even the opposing team—but you took the opportunity.

You placed the biggest smile on your face, genuine, right from the centre of your heart.

You breathed in again, “DON’T GIVE UP! YOU CAN DO IT!”

And then his parted lips turned into a smile, a glowing expression radiated from his place on the field.

You breathed in again, still smiling, “GO BUFFALOS!”

And then the students around you erupted into cheers, louder than you had ever heard, and you were right smack in the middle of it.

Namjoon, flushed and suddenly recharged, relished in the sight of you for one more beat, the girl he had seen every game without failure, the one he had to pretend he didn’t notice, or his heart would explode.

Gosh, you were adorably nerdy and weird, and loud and fun.

Any glance in your direction would turn him crazy, and he would trip over his own feet.

You were his greatest distraction.

He turned away and smiled, a blush crawling up his neck.

***

“Well, at least they tied.”

You nodded, linking your arm around Mina’s as you strolled out of the dome.

After you screamed words of encouragement, your team played flawlessly, and managed to even their scores with the opposing team before time ran out.

It wasn’t a win, but they played a damn good game, and you couldn’t be prouder.

You were practically glowing as you remembered Namjoon’s wide eyes on you, the way he sported a hidden smile after your words. Thinking that perhaps your words had had an impact on the way they played in their final moments made your heart hum.

You were practically floating.

Just as you were rounding the corner to your dorm, you groaned, feeling the absence of a certain clothing item.

You stopped in your tracks, “Ah, I think I forgot my hat!”

Mina rolled her eyes, “You have like 25 hats back in your room—“

You detached yourself from her arm, “No! This one I bedazzled with gold sequins after my very first game! It’s special.”

Mina shook her head in amusement, “Alright, well I have a paper to write, so I’ll go ahead, okay?”

You were already jogging back to the dorm as you gave her two thumbs up.

The sky had turned a reddy pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, a sight you had grown accustomed to after attending so many games in the evening.

You walked up the metal stairs leading to the dome, only a few more students and cheerleaders hanging around, talking idly.

You skipped up the steps, taking them two at a time in a rush to get to your seat.

You furrowed your brows in confusion as you got to your spot, the shiny, metal bench staring back at you. You were quick to get on your knees to peer under and around the seat, sadness seeping into your stomach. The fact that someone may have stolen it broke your—

“Looking for something?”

You flinched at the voice behind you, and you whipped your head around so fast, your ponytail smacked you right in the face.

It was fully possible that your soul left your body for a moment, because Kim Namjoon was standing right behind you, still in his football uniform, his helmet in one hand and your shiny Buffalos hat in the other.

He smiled an adorable smile that made you want to scream at the sky.

You weren’t sure if you paled or flushed, but you knew your eyes had widened by the way he looked away bashfully.

He was shy.

He tilted to his head—adorable, of course—and spoke quietly, lightly, “I came up to talk to you after the game, but you were already gone.” He breahted, “Except you left your hat, which I assume you were just looking for.”

You blinked, mind sweeping over his words. Not only was your hugest crush suddenly making conversation with you, he had ‘come up to talk to you after the game’ and had taken your hat in safe keeping.

He had come to find you.

And he had waited.

You breathed out, “Y-yeah, that’s my hat.”

Wow, what great conversation skills you had.

His lips twitched in amusement, but you were too busy inspecting the ground to notice.

I’m so dumb, so dumb, dumb—

Then his feet shuffled, and you remembered he had wanted to talk to you, so you looked up from his football cleats.

“Um,” He started, and his voice was a tone lower than usual.

Goosebumps ran up your arms.

Oh god.

He chuckled, and your eyes swept up to his face, because holy crap that was the most beautiful sound you had heard.

He looked up, eyes shining stars, “Thanks for screaming at me at the game.”

You were sure your skin had brightened to the attractive shade of tomato and you sputtered, “U-Uh, I’m sorry…I was just—I saw you and—“

He chuckled again, “No, don’t apologize. It helped. A lot.”

You let your mouth slowly close, and you looked away, “You’re welcome.” You squeaked.

His heart shuttered and he thought, cute.

He let himself look at you, really look at you. At every game, you wore a different outfit—pieces with your school colours—but he could never see your ensemble fully.

The sparkly gold converse and miniskirt combo was quite a lovely surprise, and he felt a flutter of golden warmth settle in his stomach.

“You really are our biggest fan, huh?” He said evenly, “You’re at every game.”

You nodded, and let the smallest of smiles slip onto your face, “I didn’t think you had noticed me.”

His smile faltered a little bit, and he suddenly felt regret for not returning the ‘secret’ looks you would give him in the library, or the shy smiles that would creep on your lips when you passed him in the hallway.

No, he always noticed you.

The real problem was that he couldn’t trust his heart to not burst or his voice to not crack. He couldn’t trust his arms to not reach out an smoulder you in a hug that he needed, or his lips to not tingle because of all the times he had thought about pressing you against the wall of a crowded hallway and kissing you.

But now here he was, finally talking to you. And he knew he had made the right decision when your shoulders relaxed a millimetre, and you brushed your hair back behind your ears and he could see the blush on your perfect cheeks.

He chuckled, allowing himself to speak the truth aloud, “Of course I noticed you. We all did. In fact, I think some of the other varsity teams are jealous they don’t have someone as supportive as you to cheer for them at every game.”

You blushed at that, and finally made eye contact with him.

His eyes were so warm. In the setting sun, his eyes glimmered like melted chocolate, his dimples round and deep. His hair looked slightly damp, presumably from sweat, but it looked good messy and sweaty, haphazardly swept all over his forehead.

You nodded, crossing your hands in front of you, “You guys did well today, you’re such a good leader.”

Maybe it was your imagination, but you swear you saw a flush crawl up his neck, “Thanks, Y/N.”

Your name rolling off his palette sounded almost as good in your ears as it tasted on his tongue.

How long had he waited to talk to the girl he yearned to be with?

He finally reached his hand out, and offered your hat, “Here.”

You heart beat like thunder in your chest as you took the hat, still dry-mouthed over the fact that he knew your name, that he spoke it so lightly.

Your head felt too light, so you stuttered an excuse, “U-um, I should get back to my dorm, I think.”

Namjoon smirked at your sudden bashfulness, over the moon that he could now see the way your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkled up close.

God, how could a girl do this to him?

You attempted to get past him, but he caught your wrist, the forward action nearly startling himself.

Your breath caught as he gently maneuvered you so you were facing him again.

He breathed in, now or never.

“Would you wanna go out sometime?”

Oh.

You didn’t bother to conceal your grin that spread onto your face like a wildfire, and Namjoon relished in the way your eyes lit up in the most beautiful way.

You stuttered adorably, “Y-yes. I would like that.”

He grinned, “You have no classes tomorrow right? I can meet you outside your dorm at 12.”

Your eyes widened even more at his knowledge of your schedule, and you began to rethink the fact that maybe he had noticed you on your way to classes, maybe he had caught glimpses of you on your way to your dorm.

Maybe he had, admittedly, only just worked up enough courage to talk to you, the girl he had had a crush on ever since your first appearance at one of his games.

He moved out of the way so you could brush past him, but not before he bit his lip and called for you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and blinked at him in response.

He tilted his head, and allowed his gaze once again to sweep over your form.

“Wear that outfit to the next game, you look utterly adorable.”

You didn’t know if it was possible to feel like you were walking on clouds, but it did, all the way back to your dorm.

113 notes · View notes

lilibug--xx · 7 years ago

Text

Lemon Drops and Chocolate Chips

CHAPTER 4 ( 3, 2, 1 )

Here is the next chapter! Sorry this one took me a while. Hoping to turn out chapter 5 a little quicker. This ones ends in a bit of cliffhanger again. Thanks to my tol bean, @strix for being my super talented, amazing beta.

Read it on ao3 here.

Betty swallowed a large gulp of beer from the bottle she had raised to her lips before Jughead spoke. His blue eyes staring at her in equal measures of curiosity and mischief — as if he knew what his words would invoke in her. He was being cheeky.

“Well, now that you mention it,” she started, standing up and heading over to the kitchen counter. Betty took out some smaller dessert plates and spoons, and pulled the pie from where it had been sitting. She took the foil from the top and cut some slices with a serving knife.

“I want you to tell me what you think is in this pie,” Betty was curious to his answer, wondering if his love of food could tell the difference between carrot and pumpkin. The spices might make it difficult as she supposed they would mask the taste pretty well. And cream cheese pretty much made anything taste good.

Once she had placed a good size piece on each plate, she brought them back to the table. Jughead had pushed their dinner plates to the side, stacked on top of each other. He was sitting casually, an arm thrown around the back of the chair. Betty admired the way the green cable knit stretched against his shoulders before sliding into her seat across from him.

He looked down at the plate, eyes appraising the pie. It had a layer of sweetened cream cheese and then the bulk of the carrot mixture with thinly sliced almonds (that she bad roasted and sprinkled with salt) on top. Jughead rubbed his hand over his jaw, fingers brushing out nonexistent hairs on his chin. Betty wanted to giggle.

“Well, it looks kinda like pumpkin pie. But, I’m guessing it’s not.”

He picked up the spoon, both arms back on the table as he swirled the plate around, looking at it from multiple angles. Jughead bent down and inhaled deeply, belting out a deep groan of satisfaction.

“It smells like Thanksgiving.”

Betty nodded to him, lips quirking up in a grin. She pulled her own spoon through her slice and popped it in her mouth. The burst of flavors on her tongue was all spicy and sweet at the same time. “Yup.”

Jughead was watching her for any reaction after she started eating. She rolled her eyes and gestured with her spoon at him. He finally took a bite, eyes fluttering as his lips closed around the spoon. She watched in trepidation, her free hand curling into a fist underneath the table. Betty’s fingernails were pinching into her skin of her palm.

He opened his eyes wide as he started to chew. Letting out a low whistle, he looked down at the piece of pie and shook his head.

“You could tell me there was dog shit in this pie and I would still eat it, Betty.”

A giggle escaped her mouth at that, her fist relaxing as she clamped it over her lips, her chest bubbling up and down.

“But, to be honest it tastes like pumpkin, but it’s creamier, sweeter. This cream cheese layer?” He paused and she nodded to his question. “Combination reminds me of carrot cake.”

Betty hummed, taking another bite of the pie and nodding along with his words. It was like the best mix of both desserts.

“So, carrot or pumpkin?” She asked after she swallowed. Jughead was looking at her warily, another bite on his spoon.

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Maybe it is?” Her eyebrows raised at him and she cut into the edge of her crust.

She let Jughead finish eating before prompting him to decide. He licked his lips, her eyes following his tongue. Betty tilted her head and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward.

“So?”

“What do I get if I guess correctly?”

His question caught her off guard. She wasn’t really expecting this. To be fair though, she really hadn’t expected any of this. As in, Jughead being in her apartment at all. So she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe for a moment. It wasn’t like he was propositioning to take something, he was giving her the power to choose what she wanted to give. It could be as simple as a dollar bill, another meal cooked…

“A kiss.”

Okay, where the hell had that come from? Betty couldn’t help the way her lips started to tremble. She had to bite her bottom one to get it to stop. She maintained eye contact though, which was frightening, but simultaneously enthralling. The excitement tickled the back of her neck, prompting a smile from her.

Jughead was staring at her from across the table, the same look of mischief flashing across his features.

“Okay,” he started, nodding his head. “Pumpkin.”

Betty let out a shaky breath and as a lopsided grin grew on her face. She laid her hands flat on the table and shook her head at Jughead. She didn’t miss the slight droop of his shoulders or the twitch in his jaw.

“It’s made with carrots.”

He looked defeated, like he had lost his favorite game and was sulking in the corner. He huffed, scrunching up his nose. “It didn’t taste like carrots…”

“Trick question, remember?”

He rolled his eyes at her and glanced down at his plate. “Can I have another piece of this carrot pie?”

She nodded, hopping up from her seat and heading to the counter. Cutting him another piece, she pulled the pie plate over to the table and served it to him. Betty gathering up the dishes as he ate his second piece. She was fixing up a container of leftover vegetables and a ziplock bag of the matcha bark, in addition to the fact that she was going to make him take the rest of the pie home. Placing it all in the fridge, she wiped the counter down with a rag.

“So,” Jughead started, sentence ending as he looked at her questioningly. He was wondering what came next. To be honest, so was she.

“Do you like Netflix?” Were the words that came out of Betty’s mouth and she was thanking her lucky stars that it wasn’t anything else. She had this urge to blurt things out around Jughead for some reason. When she was usually very thoughtful and decisive about her actions and responses.

“Of course I like Netflix,” he had stood now, depositing his empty plate into the sink. Betty started to fill it with hot water, squirting some dish soap in as she plugged the drain. Drying her hands on a towel she looked to Jughead. He was leaning his back against the counter, observing the array of magnets attached to the front of her fridge.

“What kind of shows do you like?” Betty had reached out, wrapping her fingers around one of Jughead’s wrists. She was tugging him towards the adjoining living room and pushing him to sit on her couch.

“I like thrillers, mysteries, dark stuff -—horror. But, also older movies and shows. I’m a bit of a True Crime buff. But I like the occasional rom-com, too. Paul Rudd is a funny guy,” Jughead was settling into the corner of the couch, his arms up and resting along the back and side.

Betty eyed the space his arms had made, vaguely entertaining the thought that it was an invitation for her to sit right next to him. She dismissed it quickly, reaching for the remote on the coffee table and clicking the tv on. Then, settled on the couch a respectable distance away, so that his fingertips just barely brushed the middle of her shoulders.

“Okay, I can get on board with a good psychological thriller. I probably like romance movies more though. Like Titanic? That is one of my favorites. I adore older films, especially black and white. I also really like foreign movies and shows, I don’t mind having to read subtitles.”

With the Netflix menu open, she felt an odd feeling wash over her, as if someone was looking into her soul. Betty hadn’t realized that someone viewing her watchlist might make her feel so vulnerable. She tucked her legs up underneath her, which tilted her slightly in Jughead’s direction.

“Yeah? I guess I haven’t dabbled much into foreign media. I’ve watched some older ones, classics like Rules Of The Game and M, though.”

Betty had seen the first, but not the second title he mentioned. “What’s M?” she questioned, browsing the newly released titles section to see if anything caught either of their eyes.

“It’s a German film, basically the first serial killer movie. It’s great, we should watch it sometime.”

Betty couldn’t help the slow smile she flashed him, eyes crinkling up at the corners. She would love to.

“Okay, but I doubt it’s on Netflix, so another time. Have you ever watched Stranger Things? I’m a little obsessed with 80’s nostalgia.”

Jughead had turned to look at her, his elbow propped up on the arm of the couch. His hand was at his mouth, fingers fiddling with his lower lip. He had an eyebrow raised at her, incredulous look on his face.

“Of course, I’ve seen Stranger Things. I, too, have an affinity for the 80’s subculture, especially 80’s futuristic subtypes. One of my favorite movies is Blade Runner.”

Betty rolled her eyes at Jughead. “I suppose you like Star Wars, Back to the Future, Mad Max, Alien—”

“Wait, wait, hold up. Are you saying you don’t?”

Betty grinned at him, her own eyebrow raising towards him as she took in the disbelief in his face. Finally she laughed, her head shaking.

“Jug, no. I love those movies.” He seemed to relax at her words, sinking back into the couch with a sigh of relief. “I just didn’t realize we had such similar interests.”

Betty was definitely a sucker for movies with a kickass female in the midst. The others were good too.

He nodded at her, eyes going back to the tv. “I am pleasantly surprised, Betty Cooper. Let’s just say that.”

“As am I, Jughead Jones.”

They ended up starting Stranger Things season 2 over again, as they were both at different spots and couldn’t decide which episode to start over. So the beginning it was. Betty was tapping her fingers against the couch with the music, the soundtrack of the show really resonated with her.

They fawned over Eleven’s new hair and kept pointing out how they positioned Mike in frames due to the actor’s height compared to the rest of the kids. Betty had also made Jughead a cup of hot apple cider with a fresh cinnamon stick that he wouldn’t stop talking about for 30 minutes.

They watched five episodes because they found it really hard to stop watching. Betty just kept letting the next one play until she realized it was after midnight and she had to get up early for work the next day. Jughead had told her “sleep is for the weak,” but begrudgingly got up from his spot on the couch.

He stretched his arms high above his head and Betty’s eyes were instantly drawn to the strip of skin that revealed itself where his sweater rose up. She had to force herself to pull her eyes away from the familiar trail of hair that had been taunting her in her dreams since the shower incident.

“I had a really awesome time tonight Betty,” his voice drifted over to her where she had found herself standing in front of the fridge, pulling out Jughead’s leftovers.

“Yeah? I did, too. Turns out you are pretty cool to hang out with,” Betty teased, putting the containers into a grocery bag for his trek across the hall.

“Gee thanks, I feel really validated now.”

He was smiling though as they walked toward her door and Betty couldn’t help reciprocating.

“Really though, we should hang out again,” her palms had turned sweaty, thinking about him possibly kissing her goodnight. She didn’t know if she could do it. Deciding to act first she gripped his shoulders in her hands and kissed his cheek sweetly.

“Goodnight, Jughead. I’ll text you,” she smiled at him as sincerely as she could, despite the clench of her heart.

Jughead nodded, his eyes darting to her lips before he gave her a small smirk, one that didn’t quite reach the far away expression in his eyes. “Goodnight, Betty.”

She saw him out the door and watched him enter his apartment. He didn’t glance back.

Betty shut her down and pressed her back against it, sliding down to sit with her knees pressed against her chest. She felt like she did something wrong. Her stomach was clenching uncomfortably and she had to press her forehead against her knees. Her heart wasn’t about to win out here, she had to be logical and think this through before making a rash decision that would be hard to take back later.

***

Two days later, while she was sitting at Starbucks, waiting to meet with a client, Betty snapped a photo of her drink cup and sent it to Jughead. The barista had somehow managed to comically spell her name wrong and she thought it might give Jughead a laugh.

B: so apparently my name is Betsie now??

She had also sent an emoji, the upside down smiley face.

First and foremost, Betty really did want to be friends with Jughead. She was really making an effort to put herself out there with him, while still standing in her comfort zone. She was waiting to see if these feelings for him grew stronger or faded with getting to know him.

So far, she was really regretting not kissing him the other night.

His text came in, some laughing emoji’s and a ‘nice to meet you, Betsie’.

Smiling at her phone, she chewed her lip, trying to think of something to say when her client arrived. Betty spent the rest of the morning with her phone burning a hole in her pocket.

She didn’t text Jughead again until she got home that afternoon. She asked him if he would be offended if she watched the rest of the Stranger Things episodes.

He never answered her.

She went to bed and lay there, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. She was sure she had gone over every pro and con to admitting she liked Jughead. Betty was still comparing this to her previous relationship. There were a lot of similarities that scared her.

First impressions, had absolutely placed Jughead in the same category as her ex: Motorcycle, leather jackets, cigarettes, smirking, and sardonic humor. There was uncanny similitude between the two. But there was more to Jughead, too; he was witty, smooth, confident, and caring. He had a steady job, friends, had gone to college on a scholarship that he had to of worked hard for. He seemed sound of mind.

And the way Jughead looked at her… he made her heart beat faster, stomach flutter, cheeks flush, and her skin prickle with excitement. Betty felt terrible the other night, letting him leave her apartment with only a kiss to the cheek.

Conversation was easy with him and despite feeling nervous in his presence, it was only because she was worried that she was going to do something to turn him away for good.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

Betty decided she could like him, that she would let herself explore these feelings for Jughead. Even though it was frightening to be going down this path; it was new and it was different, but that wasn’t a bad thing. She was the same though, and that was the thing that grounded her. No matter what happened in the past, she was still herself, still Betty Cooper. The same strong person who fought her way out of hell, lived, and grew because of it.

***

After a fitful night of sleep, Betty was thankful that she didn’t have a real work agenda for the day. She was going to work on editing today, so it was a work at home (and at your leisure) day. So, obviously a hot bath to start her day was in order.

She had chosen a lavender bath bomb to plop in the water, paired with a bubblegum bubble bath concoction to make a soothing, sweet combination. With her hair piled up on her head and a clay mask spread across her face, Betty relaxed into the water, eyes closed. Her phone was resting on the ledge of the tub, her favorite playlist on shuffle that had a large number of Halsey songs (Betty felt that the texture and tone of the artist matched her inner voice) to lull her to a relaxed state.

It wasn’t surprising then, when she fell asleep.

Betty woke sometime later, jolting suddenly when the dream that often haunted her ended the same way it always did. She braced her hands on the edges of the tub, the water had gone chilly and she was shivering. She looked to her phone to check the time but it wasn’t there, nor was her music playing anymore.

Frown marring her face, which was now very tight from the face mask having hardened, she looked to the floor. It wasn’t there. A flash of panic went through her as she looked down to her bathwater that had turned murky from her additives. She groped around the bottom of the tub, finally finding her phone by the drain.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The screen was black and pressing any amount of buttons did nothing at this point.

Betty scrambled out of the tub, just wrapping her towel around her body and rushing to the kitchen. She pulled the back of the phone apart, the battery falling out in a puddle of water. She winced, the inside was completely wet. Drying everything with towel, she chewed on a fingernail. Betty turned to her pantry and searched for her container of dry rice. She buried her phone and the parts in the whole container, hastily. She snapped the lid on and sat down on a chair with her head in her hands.

If this didn’t work, Betty really couldn’t afford a replacement phone, plus the fact that she was still paying for this one. She pulled her computer open and searched every possible way to save her phone. Rice seemed like the go to, but it depended on the phone and the amount of time submerged. Betty wasn’t sure how long it bad been in the tub.

According to her google search, she should leave the phone in the rice for at least 24 hours. Easy enough.

Or not, she mused, a couple hours later. She didn’t realize how often she relied on her phone for everything. Using her laptop was sometimes more of a hassle, but she had to make due.

Her thoughts kept straying to Jughead, wondering if he ever answered her and if he had, that now she wasn’t answering him. She groaned, head falling forward to the table with a hard clunk. Betty was having a hard time focusing on her work. She took a calming breath and decided to make herself a cup of coffee (she may or may have not added some Bailey’s to it).

Managing to make it through the rest of the day with little fanfare, Betty laid in bed that night wide awake. She had to turn on the tv after a while, propping her head up on her folded arm. Betty scanned the channels for something that might put her to sleep. Eventually she landed on Forensic Files, the only thing that seemed to be on that wasn’t an info-mercial.

She wasn’t sure if it was the three cups of coffee she had drank, the worry over her phone (and money associated with it), or Jughead.

Though, let’s be reasonable, it was all three.

Not to mention she was worried about her blog schedule. She had a couple of posts queued, but she needed to either get a new phone or a new camera or something if her phone was really dead.

Her head bobbed up from where she had pressed her cheek flat against her pillow.

“Jughead,” she whispered his name, an imaginary light bulb blinking above her head. He was a photographer, right? He had a camera. Would he let her use it or would he take some photos for her?

The thought calmed her racing thoughts for a moment. Sure she still wouldn’t be able to make phone calls or texts until she had found a cheap replacement, but her blog would still be okay. The internet was a fickle thing, and you had to keep people engaged or they lost interest quickly.

Betty was buzzing with anticipation and dare she say that she almost wanted her phone to still be out of commission when she dug it out of the rice in the morning. Yeah, that was silly. But it would be a legitimate reason to spend time with Jughead and she would be seeing more of his character if he agreed.

She finally relaxed enough to try to go to sleep.

Betty did not have a nightmare that night, but a dream like felt eerie and real at the same time.

It was a mid autumn day, the trees a brilliant mix of oranges and reds. She could feel the chill of the wind leaving goosebumps on her exposed arms. Betty was wearing a long, white dress, and her feet were bare as she walked the sidewalk, crispy leaves crunching under her feet.

“Come on, Betty, lean against that railing there,” a voice said to her right. She turned and found herself watching Jughead fiddle with a camera. She blinked, voice lost in her throat. Her feet started to move towards the railing, and she leaned against it, elbows dangling over it as she pressed her back to the bars. Tilting her face to the sun, she heard the quick ‘snap, snap’ of the camera shutter again and again.

“Sweet girl. Pretty girl,” Betty realized with a start, that the words were coming from Jughead. They sounded lilted and soft, not like the usual rough timber of his voice. She could see the blue of his eyes glittering in the light of the sun. “My girl Friday.”

Her lips parted but no noise escaped. Betty clenched her hands into fists, nails carving into her palm as her heart hammered in her chest. When the camera fell back around his neck his eyes had turned a dark brown. Their haunting familiarity reaching deep as she struggled to anchor herself to ground that seemed to be spinning around her.

The dream started to slip away then, and she wanted to reach a hand out, as if to grasp the edges.

She shook her head and fell back to the bed from where she had raised up to her elbows. Letting out a sigh, Betty stretched her limbs to each corner of the bed, grounding herself that she was alone. She must have broken into a sweat at some point, because she felt clammy and cold now.

Laying there, she contemplated the idea of dreams and their fleeting moments, wondering, if perhaps they held more weight than a just an unconscious plane of thought. She had never been a big ‘dreams have deeper meaning’ enthusiast before, but this one had left her curious.

Betty allowed herself to lay there for another hour, before getting up. She usually did ‘press’ for her clients on Fridays, so thankfully it was something she could do at home from her computer.

Once she had set a schedule for the day, she pulled her phone from the container of rice. Betty had pressed the power button and got excited when the screen started to light up. Disappointment followed shortly when the screen was mixture of rainbow swirls with a green line running down the right side. The touch screen also was not responding, albeit very well anyway.

She debated just chucking it in the trash, but ultimately decided not too. Thankfully her contacts, messages, and photos were all backed up to the Cloud.

Later that afternoon, Betty had finished her work for the day early since she didn’t have her phone to distract her. Deciding she would go see Jughead to inquire about his services, she figured she should better bring a treat to make it worthwhile, and as something to photograph.

She had planned to make these things next week, but moving her desserts up earlier wasn’t a problem if nagging at Jughead’s sweet tooth got her an in.

It took her the rest of the afternoon, but she churned out some very pretty strawberry lemon shortbread bars, and some spiced apple cake bars with brown butter frosting. Her kitchen had been smelling heavenly all afternoon and it took everything she had to resist eating more than one of each bar for her taste test.

As soon as her treats were bundled up in a decorative basket lined with parchment, Betty was ready. Once she raised her hand, knuckles rapping against Jughead’s door, there was no turning back. When he answered the door in a dark t-shirt and a pair of joggers, she felt better about her tunic top and leggings. A smile lit up her face and she held the basket out in front of her.

“Jug, hi,” her words came out in a rush, realizing she had been holding her breath. Jughead raised an eyebrow inquiringly and Betty took it as her queue to continue.

“I need a favor, so what better way to entice you than some treats?” she shook the basket at him and Jughead glanced down. He shook his head, but there was a playful smile on his lips. He had crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his beanie covered head.

“Pray tell, what’s the favor? I might be tempted to oblige… for a treat,” his words sounded smoky and smooth, sending her thoughts to dark places.

“Well, yesterday morning I sort of dropped my phone in the bath…”

Jughead’s eyebrows rose dramatically.

“And I buried it in some rice for a whole day, but it’s pretty much useless now. I just need some help taking photos for my blog until I can get a replacement.”

“So, you have come to me, professional photographer who lives across the hall that has a weakness for you.”

Betty could feel a blush blooming on her chest and proceeding with its inevitable sweep upwards. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, clearing her throat, “I’m sorry?”

“A weakness for food,” Jughead clarified, utterly unperturbed by his slip-up, and glanced down to the basket full of treats. In the low light of the hallway, his eyes were glinting impishly. She could have sworn…

“Yes. So you’ll help me then? I’ve got raspberry lemon shortbread bars and —”

“Yes.”

“—and some spiced apple—”

“Betty, I said — yes.”

“I, err… I wasn’t finished yet,” Betty blinked, her breath catching in her throat at the intensity of Jughead’s gaze.

“I don’t need to be bribed to help you, Betty,” he clarified, tone unexpectedly gentle. “I would do it just because you asked.”

“Oh… oh. Okay, thank you,” she was a little dumbfounded, as she felt Jughead had been a little hot and cold the past couple days. But maybe he had just been busy or she had been reading too much into things.

“So you want to do it in my apartment?”

And just like that, Betty felt like they were back to those first two interactions where her mind instantly went places it shouldn’t.

With a blush blooming on her cheeks, she nodded and brushed past Jughead as he stepped aside to let her in. She was taking in the somber, dark colors of his decor when the door clicked shut behind them. He still wasn’t completely unpacked, not that she expected him to be.

In his kitchen, which mirrored hers, Betty set the basket on his table and adjusted the bars laying on top. She grabbed one of apple spice ones and held it out for Jughead.

“Thank you,” he took it from her, taking a bite. Betty watched with her lip drawn between her teeth, fingers fiddling with the parchment paper.

“‘mm god, Betty, ‘is is ‘mazing” Jughead spoke with his mouth full, but she found it oddly endearing. The way he immediately took a second bite, licking his upper lip of the icing that had landed there.

“Oh, thank you.”

Betty pulled a strawberry lemon shortbread out and set it on a napkin she pulled from a stack on the table.

Jughead finished his treat and held his hand over his stomach with a sigh.

“Okay?”

“Oh, better than okay. Fantastic,” He rubbed his hands together then, watching as Betty pulled the plate of bars from the bottom. She separated the two flavors from each other, stacking the strawberry ones back in the basket for the photos.

“Ready when you are,” she beamed up at Jughead, hands clasped in front of her. He had been watching her work, and nodded as he gestured towards his bedroom.

“Sure, boss. Just gotta get my bag.”

Betty felt a swell of excitement at the title, despite feeling very much out of control of the situation. She took a calming breath and looked around at his kitchen, finding it sparse. She knew what she was getting Jughead for Christmas now, some kitchen things.

Maybe she would teach him how to use them? She attributed the warm fluttering in her belly to all the sugar, and definitely not the thoughts of herself in this kitchen with Jughead pressed up against her back, chin in her shoulder as she showed him how to cut noodles or to ice a cake…

“Alright, how do you want me?”

Fighting down the blush that was threatening to take over her entire body, Betty straightened her back and went into professional mode.

“I want a wide angle shot of both desserts together, and then closer shots individually. Several, so that I can choose a few when I’m making my post layout.”

“On it.”

And they danced around each other then, for several minutes as Jughead took various photos of the desserts. He played with the lights in the kitchen and eventually brought out a tall stand in light which helped the fine details show up better.

He had stood close to her, leaning in and showing her some of the shots and Betty nodded enthusiastically. His photos looked so good, how was she ever going to be able to go back to hers?

She would have to make it clear on her blog that this was a guest photographer. Of course, she would drop Jughead’s name as well. Might as well see if she could help drum him up some business, too.

“Why don’t I take some photos of you?” he fiddled with a knob on the camera. “With the desserts,” he added, when she hadn’t spoken.

Betty wasn’t sure. She hadn’t posted any photos of herself besides the one in her blog bio. But she longed to see herself captured in Jughead’s photography. Like in her dream…

“Okay,” she found herself saying. Though she certainly wasn’t dressed for it, at least the dark teal tunic top brought out the green of her eyes.

“Why don’t you…” Jughead brought a hand up to the back of her head, fingering the ends of her ponytail. Her eyes widened when he tugged gently on the strands.

“Oh? Okay,” Betty brought her hands up, her fingers brushing against his as he brought his own back to the camera hanging around his neck. It felt like electric fire shooting up her arm and it had her heart racing as she pulled her ponytail out and shook her head out a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.”

Jughead’s words were soft and sweet, and Betty wanted nothing more than to sling her arms around his shoulders and bury her face in his neck. Instead, she finished combing her fingers through her hair, gliding it back and away from her face.

“How is this?”

“Perfect,” he said, then blinked owlishly and coughed into his fist. “I, err, I want you lean on the table, rest your elbows on it, by the basket.”

Betty did as she was told, bending at the waist and trying not to feel self conscious with Jughead’s eyes on her. She popped her hip, bending one knee forward.

“Yes, now tuck your chin to your shoulder a bit… yes, now bring your eyes up to me Betty.”

Green eyes drug up Jughead’s legs, to where he was holding the camera in front of his face. She noticed he had taken his beanie off, his hair wild and free, much like hers. He was leaning back against the counter, pressing himself into it as he played with the angle of her in his lens.

She heard the shutter click several times and she couldn’t help her smile that continued to grow as Jughead danced around the kitchen.

“Okay, now plant your hands flat against the table, hunch your shoulders.”

He continued snapping shots of her even as she was moving into the new position.

“Yes, yes. Good…good.”

Betty shook her head at him, biting her lip. Jughead groaned in response, the shutter clicking faster.

“Yes, baby.”

Her heart thudded in her chest at his words, cheeks turning pink. She didn’t think this was so much about the desserts anymore.

“Hop up on the table, sit with the plate on your lap, legs crossed.”

Betty complied, legs crossing over each other, dangling from the table. She placed the plate with the strawberry lemon bars on her lap and picked one up. Deciding to bite into it she heard Jughead’s hum of appreciation.

She chewed slowly, then swiped her tongue over her lower lip to catch an invisible crumb. Pinching the bar between her middle finger and thumb, Betty licked the pad of her index finger.

“Great, just like that.”

A giggle escaped her throat and then she couldn’t stop, laugh bursting from her as she tossed her head back. The turn of events currently unfolding was not a scenario she would have imagined when Betty had decided to come over to Jughead’s apartment.

He was chuckling behind the camera, but the clicks didn’t stop. As her giggles wound down and smiled fondly at him, tossing the bar back onto the plate and setting it aside. She leaned forward on her hands, gripping the edge of the table. Her feet brushed the floor, tips of her converse sliding against the linoleum. Then, she was sliding forward, the table starting to tip a little.

Jughead was suddenly in front of her, one arm wrapping around her waist and hauling her up against him, his other hand holding his camera out to the side.

Betty let out a shuddered breath, her hands had clenched onto the sides of Jughead’s shirt when he grabbed her. She was staring at the strip of skin above the neckline, his collarbones were peeking out.

He was pressing forward against her, her back against the edge of the table as he set the camera down. “Betty…”

Looking up she was met with his baby blues, staring her down with a look of unease. Betty was about to question what was wrong when he bent forward, his arm tightening on her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as Jughead’s lips found hers.

It was sinfully sweet, the gentle way his lips moved against hers. She wanted to sigh against his mouth and settled for parting her lips slightly. Jughead’s hands ran over the curve of her waist, both settling on her hips and pulling her body closer against him.

Their chests were pressed together and she could swear Jughead could probably feel her heart beating against him. Her body felt tingly from the press of their lips, warm, wet, and sweet. She could taste the brown butter icing on Jughead’s tongue when he swiped it against hers.

Betty’s body was stiff, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands other than grip fistfulls of his shirt as she tried to press closer to him.

Jughead pulled back from her mouth, leaning his forehead against her, lips hovering just above hers. Betty opened her eyes to look up at him, the pad of his thumb brushing against the curve of her cheek as his breath fanned against her lips.

“Baby girl, sweet girl, you need to relax,” his words against her lips had her breath literally catching in her throat.

It was an uncomfortable rush of emotions as a familiar voice rang through her ears, a vision of her in this same position, crowded against a countertop with too tight hands on her waist, nails digging into her skin. Hot breath whispering into her ear and making her squirm uncomfortably.

Betty felt trapped, walls starting to close in as her vision turned black and spotty. Her whole body became rigid, her fingers shaking in their vice-like grip on Jughead’s shirt.

Her chest was heaving now, it was like she was trying to breathe through a straw. Her lungs were on fire and her shoulders felt heavy, like someone was pushing her down, trying to shove her under water. Everything sounded muffled, like someone had clapped their hands over her ears. All she could hear was the fast beat of her heart, hammering in her chest like it wanted to break through her ribcage.

Her eyes clenched tightly shut as the words came rushing forward in her memories. That sickly sweet, deceiving voice. “Sweet girl, relax for me. My girl Friday…”

tbc

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reformedkingsmanagent · 7 years ago

Note

Hi love! It’s me again! I just loooove your imagines and I was wondering if you could write me a oneshot with prompt 150☺️✨

AN: Thank you so much!! I hope you like this!

Prompt: #150 “What on earth are you wearing?”

Pairing: Charlie x reader

Word Count: 1214

You were hard at work perfecting your newest invention. You had spent almost your entire day in the lab, working on your project. It was fun work. You liked being down in the R&D department. It was typically very quiet, and there were only a few of you who worked in the department. You were allowed to come and go as you pleased.

And that was why you were still there late in the evening, working on your device. You heard footsteps and assumed it was one of your co-workers. “What are you still doing here? Didn’t you come in this morning, during the drills?” That voice definitely didn’t belong to one of your co-workers. You set down the tools in your hands, frowning to yourself. He had noticed you arrive?

“What brings you down to our little dungeon, Charlie?” You moved the protective goggles up on top of your head and turned around on your stool, pausing to take in his unusual appearance. “What on earth are you wearing?”

Charlie stood near the door, an embarrassed smile on his face. He was dressed in period costume, and if you had to guess, you would have said he was supposed to be a knight. He looked regal, wearing chainmail and armor plating. He even wore a sword at his hip. “Had to go undercover,” he explained.

“Where? At a Renaissance Fair?” You did your best to hide your laughter. Despite how unusual it was, you had to admit that he looked nice.

“Something like that.” He dismissed the reasoning and walked over to where you were sitting. “I found this, Merlin told me to bring it down here for you to look at.” He held a small micro-SD card in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t think these were available in the 1500s, do you?” You joked. He didn’t laugh, but he cracked a slight smile.

“Somehow I think not,” he finally answered, though his smile was gone. You returned your attention to the small chip and reached over to take it from him. He closed his hand before you could pick it up, trapping your fingers in his grip. He thought he was being funny.

“Charlie?!” You glared at him until he relented and you were able to take the small SD card from him. “What was that for?” He didn’t answer. You popped the chip in an adaptor and turned to face your computer screen, giving Charlie your back.

You started going through the files, wondering why this would be important. Anyone could have dropped it out of their cell phone. It was probably going to be filled with useless junk. “You stood me up yesterday.” You froze. “If you weren’t interested, you could have just told me. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

What? “Charlie, what are you talking about?” You had never been so confused in your life. You turned around to face him. “When did you ask me to go anywhere with you?”

Realization spread across his face. His expression went from grumpy to understanding. “He never gave it to you.”

“Who never gave me what, Charlie?” You didn’t remember anyone even talking to you yesterday, let alone passing something along to you. You feel like you would have noticed.

“A note, it’s not important now.” He tried to dismiss it. You were very interested in this note. “Are you busy?” He asked. You looked between him and the computer, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“You literally just walked in here with something for me to do. I think yes.” He bit his lip to hide his laughter.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day.” He stepped over to the other side of your computer, leaning on the counter.

“For both of us,” you agreed. You returned your attention to your screen, though you were immensely curious about what Charlie said. What kind of note had he intended for you to receive, and what did it say? Who was supposed to give it to you? Where were you supposed to meet him?

You opened some files on the chip and as you went through them, you knew this had to be important. You took the card out of the adaptor, intent on getting this in Merlin’s hands as soon as possible. A warm hand reached over and grabbed your arm. “Where are you off to?”

“There’s some stuff on here that Merlin should see. They tried to hide it, but it’s there.” He let go of you.

“So now that you’re done with this, want to get dinner?” It was an innocent question, but you weren’t expecting it. His current attire didn’t help make it seem any more realistic.

“Are you serious?” You hopped off the stool and were reminded of just how much taller than you he was. He reached up and pulled your goggles off of the top of your head, setting them down on the counter with a smile.

“I was thinking sushi, if that’s alright with you…” The reality started to sink in. You started to ask him if this was a date, but he said it first. “Yes, this is a date.”

You looked down at yourself, brushing off the front of your sweater. Oh god, how unprepared could you be? You tried to glance in the dim computer screen to see if you had any marks on your face.

“You look fine, stop.” He had a comforting smile on his face which you couldn’t help but match. “You get that to Merlin, and I’ll go change. I’ll meet you out front?”

You nodded. He flashed you a huge smile before turning to head back upstairs. You got a brilliant idea and reached out to pull him back over. “What is it?” He asked.

“I’ll go on this date with you…”

“If?” He continued for you, looking concerned.

“If you wear this.” You gestured to his costume. All of his earlier enthusiasm left him.

“You can’t be serious.” He slouched, one hand on the pommel of the sword, and the other resting on his hip.

“I’m very serious.” You wondered if he would even bother.

“Just meet me in ten.” He rolled his eyes but you could see a slight smile at the corners of his lips as he turned around and marched up the stairs.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Charlie frowned, picking up another piece of sushi and stuffing it into his mouth. There was a small group of employees gathered near the end of the bar, incredibly amused to see Charlie sitting there, eating sushi in his armor.

“It is a little funny. It’s not every day they get to see a literal knight in…” You pulled your sweater sleeve up over your hand and attempted to buff out his chest plate. “…not so shiny armor.” You burst out in a fit of laughter. He reached over and stole a piece of your sushi in retaliation. “Hey!”

“I’ll have to find a costume for you.” He warned, mouth full. You laughed, but on the inside you were a little worried. “I have just the thing in mind.” He winked at you, and you were suddenly very glad the note never reached you. This was so much better.

#Charlie hesketh x reader #kingsman #writing #prompts #charlie hesketh

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another-tmnt-writer · 8 years ago

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Hold Me

Raphael x Reader

Hold Me

Prompt: Could you write a Raph one where his s/o is in a random mood for major cuddles and he gives in to her cravings for affection and practically showers her in it with lots of fluff??? Thanks! 😄😄😄

You stared at your phone for a few long moments. You needed cuddles. And you needed them now. You picked up your phone and pulled up Raph’s contact and punched in a text.

Hey.

Can you come over? Pretty, pretty please?

Yeah, why?

I’m looooonely. And booooored. And…I really need someone to cuddle with.

Do ya think I’m some sorta personal teddy bear, shorty?

Pleeeeeaaaaaase?

The guys are gonna tease me.

Then don’t tell them.

Raph?

U there?

Idk if you’re worth gettin’ teased over…

Raaaaaaaaph.

Hush. I’m comin’. Give me a minute.

Yesssssss.

Dork.

You love it.

I know. Yer lucky I care.

I know.

You waited for the big buff turtle in red to show up at your window. He wasn’t your boyfriend, despite the feelings you hoped he shared. But God, you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Personally, Raphael hadn’t asked you out for one reason: he though he wasn’t good enough for you. You were pretty, smart, funny, and worst of all…you were human. A pretty, smart, funny human girl could have any guy on the face of the earth. Why would you want a mutant reject that lived in the sewers?

But nonetheless, he showed up at your window a few minutes later, heart pounding and extremely nervous for whatever was going to come next. Sure, the two of you had had movie nights, but you had never cuddled. Ever. He wasn’t even sure why you had asked him to come here to satisfy your craving for touch.

Three taps on the window signaled his arrival. You slid the window up and helped him clamber inside. He looked down at you in your cute little Deadpool onesie. And though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t deny that you looked good in red. Really good.

“Well, you look cozy.” He smirked. You smiled.

“Picked out a movie for us.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Fantastic Four.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“Yer kiddin’ me. Didn’t that bomb?”

“Yeah, but…” you blushed at the thought that ran through your head. “Nevermind. Just settle in. I’ll make the popcorn. Wanted it to be fresh.”

He watched you run off to the kitchen while he got settled in your bed. It creaked under his weight. God, sometimes he forgot how heavy he was. How huge he was. And then there was you, this delicate little flower that he was so scared he would break.

Every time he thought about you, his heart did a backflip. The mere inkling of you was enough to drive him crazy. The thought of your tiny little hands in his, your tiny little feet and all of your adorable human toes. And then came the thoughts of how your skin would feel against his, how soft and silky it must be compared to his rough scales and callouses.

He exhaled a sigh, mentally scolding himself. There was no reason to tease himself with something he couldn’t have.

“Comfy?” You asked, setting the popcorn on the table beside your bed, which was pushed up against the wall. Raph was hunkered into your mound of pillows, half laying down, half propped up.

“Y-yeah. Sure am.” He wanted to punch himself for stuttering. You smirked a little and hopped into the bed beside him, transitioning to a comfy position laying on top of him, head pressed against his plastron. And there, thump-thumping in his chest was his heart. You smiled as you listened to it hammer, faster and faster with each second you were there with him. “Am I doin’ this right?”

“Doing what right?”

“You know…cuddlin’. Or whatever.” He paused, exhaling a somewhat embarrassed breath. “I ain’t exactly a pro.”

“You’re doing fine.” You giggled. “Just…here.” You pulled one of his muscular arms around your back and snuggled deeper into his plastron. “Perfect.”

“All right. Good.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn with his free hand and you started the movie.

***

“So which of ‘em’s yer favorite?” he asked as the credits rolled. Your heart hammered. Here was the moment. The moment you were hoping he would set up. And now you could finally take the opportunity laid out before you.

“The Thing.” You replied casually. He let out a little breath of surprise.

“Why’s that?”

“Because…” You blushed as deep as Raph’s mask. “I like my guys big and strong and a little rough around the edges.” You shrugged. “But I mean, where would I ever find a guy like that?”

“Yer sayin’…” It took him a few seconds to put the pieces together. “Me. Ya…ya like me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The reasons previously stated, and also: you might not admit it, but you, Raphael, are a huge softy and I love that.”

“I ain’t soft.”

“Look at us right now.”

“Point taken.”

“And your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Umm…”

“And you’re super buff and brave, and you’ve saved the world like twice and-”

“Why not Leo?” Raph’s words caused a sudden silence.

“What?”

“Leo’s all ‘uh those things. He could treat ya right.”

“Okay, but I don’t love Leo, Raph. I love you.”

“Y-you what?” Raph almost choked.

“I. Love. You.”

“I l-love you too.” He paused, mulling over the exchange that had just gone down. “So then are we…are ya my girlfriend?”

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then I think that answers that question, boyfriend.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. And then it hit you. That was the first kiss he had ever received. Ever. The blush that spread across his cheeks only confirmed your theory. You were not going to let this moment pass without taking it one baby step further. You pressed a soft hand against his rough face and turned it to face you. His eyes darted from your lips back to your eyes and he gulped, green eyes wide as you leaned closer to him.

Raphael decided in a single moment that your lips were the softest things on earth. They were also the sweetest things he had ever tasted, freshly coated in cherry lip gloss. Bright and red and now they were his to kiss whenever he wanted. This night had taken an unexpected turn indeed. But he couldn’t complain. He would never complain, so long as he had you.

“So uh…now what?” He asked after a long pause.

“Well…we could pop in another movie and cuddle some more, or we could go back to the lair and brag to your brothers.” You suggested. Raph smirked, imagining the look on Leo’s dumb face when he came home with a girlfriend.

“We’re goin’ to the lair.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#raph #raph x reader #raph imagine #raphael #raphael x reader #raphael imagine #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2014 imagine #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt 2016 imagine

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ezzydean · 8 years ago

Note

I accidentally made myself ship it, and I think you can uniquely appreciate shipping something in which most of the available work is your own. With that in mind, could I be so bold as to leave a prompt for Yachi/Asahi + relentless fluff?

well... "your own and 2 of your friends" is probably more accurate but yes I understand your pain

have some fluff, dear friend, cause we all need more fluff

Yachi twists the last flower into place and secures it, and the last twist of hair in her fingers, with a dark bobby pin before leaning back to check her work. The small flowers are deep, vibrant, almost neon colors and pop out in the dark brown hair they’re weaved into. It’s going to be a mess to take apart later but right now all that’s missing is a spritz or two of her special formula of glittery hairspray and everything will look perfect. Asahi glances at her as she tilts her head from side to side and steps around him to make sure everything is where she wants it but he doesn’t move his head or do more than give her a smile before returning to reading his book. She finally decides that she needs to stop making tiny adjustments or they’re never leaving the house - not that either of them would mind another day spent lounging around curled in blankets watching cartoons - and definitely not leaving on time. A quick spritz and firm nod later Asahi finally rolls his shoulders and twists his neck to work out the stiffness.

“Were you changing here or when we got there?” Asahi asks as she grabs her phone and snaps a few pictures to show him her work.

“Oh, um, there. Tanaka has my outfit and Iwaizumi is in charge of makeup and apparently I have no say in either category. Which will be okay. I mean. They both know what they’re doing and they know me and oh I wonder if I need to do my hair before or if I should do it when I get there? I mean it won’t look nearly as nice as yours no matter what because you look amazing, but you always do so, but I just-”

Asahi cups her cheek and she takes a deep breath.

“My hair looks amazing because you did it. Your hair will look amazing if you do it as well. Let me get changed real quick and then we’ll be there in no time, okay?” Asahi kisses her forehead and it feels like every ounce of tension from the last couple hours evaporates.

“Okay.” She smiles up at him and Asahi thinks that there isn’t much he can’t do if it means she keeps smiling at him like that.

Asahi watches, equal parts amused and worried, as Hinata and Tsukishima stand exactly three steps apart - he knows because he watched Kenma push Hinata away from Tsukishima exactly three steps before disappearing once again - and breathe angrily at each other. Once upon a time he never even knew it was possible to express anger simply by breathing. Then he met Hinata and Tsukishima and, well, so much is possible when those two interact. Even though they’re co-owners of Toggles Photography sometimes Asahi wonders how they get anything done with all the arguing and angry breathing oh, and all of Tsukishima’s eye rolling of course. ��He can’t forget that.

Soft feet padding across the floor behind him catches his attention and he turns his back - warily - on Tsukishima and Hinata to the sight of Iwaizumi walking towards him with five puppies. He’s got one hanging over his right arm, his bag is over his left shoulder, and there are four leashes attached to his left wrist and the whine Asahi wants to let out at the sight gets caught in his throat, thankfully.

“You said two puppies,” Asahi says after a quick greeting. “This. This isn’t two.”

“Yeah I know,” Iwaizumi sighs. “But I couldn’t pick only two. I mean. Look at their faces.”

Asahi does not want to look at their faces for fear that he will puppynap all five of them and have to face the wrath of his tiny girlfriend and the buff man who actually owns all five puppies.

“Just do me a favor and keep an eye on them while I get Yachi ready?”

Asahi agrees. Though it’s easier said than done when Tanaka shows up a couple minutes later and practically gasps loudly enough to be heard all the way back outside. Asahi has to physically redirect his path away from the puppies and back towards the dressing room they had set up for today.

Tsukishima is already hovering around with a camera and Asahi is sure he’s already taken dozens of pictures of the puppies and Asahi’s hair and the leashes hanging off the back of a nearby chair and whatever random aesthetic type shots he finds interesting. Hinata is gone for the moment and Asahi assumes he’s back pestering Yachi and the others and taking his own series of photos.

He can hear Hinata’s exclamations of excitement and awe getting closer and Asahi shakes his head fondly, mentally bracing himself for the beautiful goddess that is Yachi with Tanaka and Iwaizumi’s expert hands dressing her up. He won’t be prepared, he knows, but he can try.

She sweeps him off his feet and takes his breath away the moment he spots her pale pink skirt and the dark lashes around her wide brown eyes. (Tsukishima gets a shot of that moment too and is rather proud to use it as the centerpiece of a more personal project he has in the works for them.)

Asahi loves his friends and was more than happy to help by being a model for the photos for Watari’s dog training classes brochures and (to kill two birds with one stone) for Tsukishima and Hinata’s photography examples. But he is even happier to take Yachi’s hand in his and pull her close on the train ride home and smile down at her look of surprise when he guides her off the train two stops earlier than usual and down a series of side streets and quiet sidewalks to a small fenced in patio.

Yachi inhales in surprise as crisscrossing strings of light turn on across the patio and a small centerpiece lights up at the table in the middle.

“Right on time.” Ennoshita gestures for them to come in through the gate and sit down before he slips inside. Yachi looks up at Asahi as he pulls out a chair for her.

“What’s the occasion?”

Asashi shrugs and takes the seat across from her.

“Our friends are exhausting and we haven’t gone on a date for awhile and you’re far too beautiful to just go home right now and I love you?” Yachi buries her face in her hands and whines at him until he reaches out and tugs at her wrist.

“You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” She bites her lips as he twines their fingers together.

Ennoshita brings out their meal and tells them to wait until after dessert to thank him when they both open their mouths as the plates settle on the table. It’s delicious, as to be expected from one of Ennoshita’s private menu meals, and while Yachi’s eyes are drawn to the lights above them and the sky finally starting to darken beyond Asahi takes a deep breath and catches Ennoshita’s gaze. Ennoshita smiles encouragingly at him and nods before he retreats to grab their desserts.

Asahi takes Yachi’s hand again and anchors himself with the sensation. The warmth of her hand, the way her fingers curl into his, the way she squeezes back when he squeezes a little too hard.

Then Ennoshita sets their plates down, a small piece of intricately decorated cake on each, and tells them to just leave their plates whenever they’re done and he’ll be back to get them. He whispers a soft good luck under his breath and pats Asahi on the shoulder before he slides away and returns to his cafe.

Asahi stares at the small box next to the centerpiece that Ennoshita had slipped onto the table while Yachi had been cooing over the dessert presented to her. It really is delicious - as to be expected from Ennoshita’s cafe - and he enjoys it even though every bite he swallows has to fight through a cloud of butterflies before it makes it safely into his stomach. Yachi finally notices the little box when she’s two bites from finishing her dessert and she eyes it with caution and curiosity as she quickly finishes her cake and sets her fork down carefully. His fork clatters to his plate when she finally reaches out and he gestures between her and the box nervously.

(Though he has no idea why he’s nervous. He already knows the answer. Already knows the way her eyes will well up with tears and she’ll make that throaty surprised squawking noise and throw her napkin at his face while he smiles bashfully at her.)

“I can’t believe you,” she says, voice high and breathless, as her napkin hits his chin. “All of this? I just. Asahi.”

“So.” He takes the ring from the box and looks at her expectantly. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Of course yes!”

She holds out her hand and then hops to her feet the moment the ring slides into place, gesturing frantically for him to stand up before she throws herself into his arms with a teary laugh.

“That’s what Tanaka and Hinata meant when they were talking about today being good practice for later and Iwaizumi shushed them, isn’t it? They knew. They knew you were going to ask me today.”

Asahi buries his face deeper in the blanket he had snagged from their blanket nest and whines at her.

“Yeah. They kind of already called dibs on helping us pick out outfits and the photography and makeup and hair and catering and probably half the wedding planning,” he mumbles into the blanket. Yachi holds her hand up and smiles at the way the light makes her ring sparkle. Then she’s worming her way into his blanket and peppering his face with kisses until he relents and wraps her in his arms.

“Love you,” she whispers against his lips.

“Love you too,” he whispers back.

#haikyuu #AsaYachi #azumane asahi #hitoka yachi #AsaYachi fic #hq writing #precious gem of a ship #prompt #karasunovolleygays

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nofomoartworld · 8 years ago

Text

[Exclusive] Vintage 1960s Ads from LA’s Forgotten Psychedelic Newspaper

KRLA Presents Monster Halloween Freak-Off, Great Western Exhibit Center, Pat Morgan and Associates, 1966 . All images courtesy of J.J. Englender.

In the late 19th century, Southern California attracted misfits, idealists, and entrepreneurs with few ties to anyone or anything. Swamis, spiritualists, and other self-proclaimed religious authorities quickly made their way out West to forge new faiths. Independent book publishers, motivational speakers, and metaphysical-minded artists and writers then became part of the Los Angeles landscape. City of the Seekers examines how the legacy of this spiritual freedom enables artists to make creative work as part of their practices.

Anyone nostalgic for LA's recent history will find a trip through the back issues of the Los Angeles Free Press a suitable substitute for a time machine. "The Freep," as it was affectionately called, regularly chronicled underground culture in the City of Angels from 1964 through 1978, and continues to maintain a presence today. But back in its heyday, the weekly print publication was largely a passion project put together by volunteers. Now, more than half a century later, archivist J.J. Englender's enthusiasm for pop-culture history and collecting has led to his own labor of love: assembling an online collection of images culled from the pages of the LA Free Press, which became known for its radical politics almost as much as for its listings of events and other "happenings" that helped forge LA's reputation as a hotbed of hippies.

Black Magick Sex & Witchcraft in the Underground Cinema, Cinematheque 16, 1967

What's most remarkable about viewing past editions of the LA Free Press is not so much the radical editorial content, but the raw, psychedelic, DIY-style advertising that illustrates just how many of today's seemingly innovative LA events are rooted in the nearly-forgotten cultural history unearthed through Englender's collection. Long before events such as Monsterpalooza and ScareLA, the great Monster Halloween Freak-Off of 1966 delivered an "optical psychedelic-symphonic nerve spasm." Before the Occult LA film series took over the Cinefamily at the Silent Movie Theatre, a venue named Cinemateque 16 presented a program called "Black Magick Sex & Witchcraft in the Underground Cinema." And presaging the sawed-off tour vans and hop-on/hop-off double-decker sightseeing buses, not to mention LA's alternative tour bus company Esotouric or San Francisco's Magic Bus, the Psychedelic Fun-In For Adults billed itself as the "world's only psychedelic and high-camp tour." Ads for head shops, craft fairs, indie music shows, and adult nightclubs further illustrate how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Psychedelic Center Ltd. Design by Jerry Kay; Sterling Steam Calliope Manufacturing Co., 1967

The youngest of three children, J.J. Englender was born in North London, dropping out of school at 16 to work for an antiques dealer for two years while simultaneously developing an interest in film and memorabilia collecting. Englender joined the Video Department at Tower Records in 1987, where he met Channel Four's late-night talkshow host Jonathan Ross, which then led to Englender's brief stint as a researcher on the The Incredibly Strange Film Show on the Discovery Channel.

In 1991, Englender left Tower Records and moved to the U.S. with a friend. "My mind imagined a romanticized version of Midnight Cowboy meets Easy Rider, by way of Route 66, with dusty towns and interesting people," he tells Creators. "After living in Venice for a year and going absolutely nowhere, my friend returned to the U.K. and I remained." While Englender attributes his permanent relocation to "idealized film fantasies," he admits he "definitely felt a closeness to the city and its history," which is a biggest reason why he stayed.

Meanwhile, Englender's growing collection of movie posters gained him some attention in the mid-90s, just when he made the transition into a career as a graphic designer, working at Hustler magazine for the next decade. He began putting together an online library archive in 2004, and after getting laid off from Hustler, Englender returned to collecting, archiving, and researching, and is now hoping to find work in a related field.

Psychedelic Fun-In for Adults, 1967

A year ago, Englender began collecting issues of the Los Angeles Free Press as "part of an educational/academic project," reproducing the images in their current condition online after acquiring the papers at flea markets, through private sellers, and on eBay. "The project was intended as purely visual—just put up the ads—but natural curiosity set in, and after researching and writing a piece on the first one, I figured I should do it for all of them," he says. 45 issues later, Englender admits he's "always looking for more" editions of the LA Free Press.

After laboriously digitizing the contents of the paper, Englender began the process of sorting the archives into categories such as film, music, and events. "Whilst curating the finished content, I was fascinated to learn which places existed," he says. "It was incredible to have addresses on most of the ads, which prompted me to discover everything I could on all the ads. Having lived here for 25 years and feeling somewhat familiar with the geographical locations I was reading about [has] made me that much more interested in writing the essays. I've always had a nostalgic feel for certain time periods in history and wished I could jump through a photograph."

The Cougar, World's First Adult Psychedelic Night Club, Canoga Park, 1967

A film and music buff, Englender was drawn primarily to the paper's eye-popping advertising, which was a big reason why he began acquiring them in the first place. As a curator, he avoided any dry social or political angles, and instead allowed himself to enjoy discovering which movies or bands played in which theaters. He quickly recognized that the print issues were worth preserving. "The deeper I got in this project, the more I saw the value in preserving as much as I could," he says. "I viewed it as an accessible window into the past."

Englender believes it's important that people of all ages learn about LA's recent history, just as he fully realized his passion for collecting and research through assembling the archive itself. "I've been slaving away at the archive [...] and while it's done nothing for me financially, it's my calling card. I continue to expand it, as I can't imagine doing anything else."

Mike Bloomfield's Electric Flag and ClearLight Cheetah Club, Venice, 1967

The Great and Joyous Festival of Chauli, 1968

KPRI Concert, Balboa Park, a Hedgecock-Piering Production, 1968

View and read more of the archives of the LA Free Press here.

Learn the Secrets of the Mysterious Talking Board at the 'Ouija and Beyond' Art Exhibit | City of the Seekers

Hippie Canyon Culture Comes Alive in Sun-Kissed Photos | City of the Seekers

The Black Man from Missouri Who Became an Indian Guru | City of the Seekers

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#IFTTT #creators

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