#i panicked and got distracted the first time i was supposed to introduce myself despite the fact theyre the last people who would judge

[nerdie-faerie]

Currently thinking about the last time I met up with my college friends, and we went around the table reintroducing ourselves with names and pronouns, cus it gets like that. And every time it would come around to me, I would deflect and distract instead of answering because I hadn't actually figured it out yet. It's coming up on a year since then, I still have no idea what the answer would be

[anika-ann]

Nothing but the Truth - Pt.4

The Interrogation

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 2890

Summary: A fake dating AU. Time to seal the deal; you become Steve’s fiancé, officially. Kinda. You really have to talk about the rules of engagement; read PDA.

Warnings:  the fluff gets real y’all, some swearing

Story Masterlist 

Your life took quite a turn after such an insignificant event as knocking over your lunch on you.

Here you were, an engagement ring sitting on your finger, twisting as you fiddled with it nervously, seated next to Steve on a too comfortable sofa in a TV studio.

Everything was hazy, like a dream. You blamed the sharp lights of which you hoped were about to get dimmed at least a fraction, because otherwise you’d be blind before the interview was over.

As if the gaffer could read your thoughts, he dimmed the reflectors a bit, allowing you to see the interviewer’s face. Yay for you.

You were not in any sense ready for the questions, let alone coming from a TV host. You had been skilfully dodging your family’s inquires by telling them you’d explain later, you ignored your friend/colleague who was blowing your phone with texts and phone calls and you avoided everyone at work, mostly because for the past two days, you weren’t there to begin with; not in your office anyway.

Steve might be sitting by your side, his hand around your waist reassuring, but it did little to soothe your nerves. You truly were an awful liar and people from TV industry, reporters and such, there were like sharks; you did not feel like facing the sharks, thank you very much, they could smell lies as if they were blood.

Tony Stark had sworn that the host was an acquittance of his, good people, he had promised, and in collective effort, you had put together a list of acceptable questions for her to ask and a list of answers for you. Also, you had received one simple advice: stick to the truth as much as possible, because it is easier to keep track of. Also, Tony Stark had smirked when you confessed to being a terrible liar and had told you that you and Cap were apparently a match made in heaven and that it was just another good reason for you to try and lie only as little as possible.

Surprisingly, once the interview started, you felt yourself relax only enough to not to stutter too much when speaking, so it only appeared you were shy and nervous and not losing your mind. It had little to do with the friendly host who somehow managed to make the interview flow naturally despite using rehearsed questions and everything to do with Steve’s comforting presence, his thumb drawing calming circles on your hip.

You successfully got through the questions about how you met – via Sam, of course, stick to the truth as much as possible –, how you started dating, adding only tiny bits of information about you too, easily explaining that you wanted to keep your family and some of the privacy out of the spotlight.

It all naturally led to another burning question.

“So, it might be obvious, but I gotta ask… why all the secrecy?” she queried, still smiling invitingly and Steve shrugged in response as he clearly did find the answer evident.

“I like to keep my private life separated. This…” he looked at you with one corner of his lips raised and continued, “she doesn’t deserve thousands of people trying to stick their nose into her life – into our life. I just… I guess I wanted… uh, I wanted to spare us that for as long as possible.”

You confirmed his words with few delicate nods.

“Well, people know now. How do you feel about that?” the host turned to you.

“Mixed feelings, I think? I don’t enjoy being the centre of attention much. On the other hand, it’s a relief not having to hide.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Steve agreed. “I mean, we didn’t plan it, I honestly wasn’t thinking about anything than cheering up my best girl after a bad morning that day, but this might be a truly good thing. Maybe now, her other suitors will finally lay off.”

Your heart skipped a beat and judging by the subtle squeeze of your hip, Steve noticed and was trying to tell you to stay calm – despite the fact that this was not planned at all.

What the hell was he doing?

“Other suitors?” the host questioned, intrigued, as she eyed your reaction; which was absolutely genuine, a 100% undiluted shock.

If you were lucky, the audience would think it was you being self-conscious, surprised at the idea of other people being interested, which… wasn’t that far from the truth, but seriously, Steve, what the hell?

Utterly confused, you attempted to cover your shock with only thing you could think of; with humour.

“Yeah. There are so many! I can see the line forming right there,” you joked lightly, making the effort to point somewhere behind the cameras and the host chuckled when she caught on the playfulness in your voice, knowing all too well what you were doing.

“You’d be surprised,” Steve stated lowly, making you pause and blink in confusion. He was just messing around, right? There were no other guys interested in you. Yes, you had been complimented before, yes, you had been in relationships before, but it wasn’t like guys fought over you or something.

Once more hiding your inner turmoil, you turned your head to him, eyes narrowed.

“Steve!” you scolded him, mocking offence. “Are you telling me you knew there were others and you didn’t introduce us?!”

The interviewer’s eyes flickered between the two of you, an expectant smirk forming on her lips. Well, glad you’re having fun, because I still have no idea what this is all about, apart from Steve proving a point which I’m not quite getting yet. Though you had to admit, it probably looked natural, a banter between friends turned to lovers and you suddenly realized that this was Steve making this whole one single interview you were willing to give, which was suspicious enough, much more believable.

And damn, was he smooth about it.

Steve’s smile was innocent, a glint of mischief in his irises as he shrugged. “What can I say? I just want you for myself.”

Feeling heat rising to your cheeks at the confidence he spoke with and at his palm squeezing your hip once more, shifting you subtly and yet visibly closer to his side, you smiled at him and leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His lips landed in your hair so easily as if he had done it thousand times before.

“I guess you are forgiven then.”

“Well, it looks like you two have it figured out,” the interviewer, Laurel, because you were all on the first name basis to cut the tension, remarked. “And I suppose the strategy would work, Steve, the ring isn’t extravagant, but it is hard to miss.” She beckoned to it and looked at you expectantly. “What was it like? The proposal?”

Well, shit. You really wished Steve would get this one to answer, because you would have to lie through your teeth, but it was expected that you’d be the one to be asked about it since being proposed was a big moment in woman’s life. Or man’s, sure, but in your position… stop trying to distract yourself, big lie ahead! Focus!

“It was… a blur. I mean, we aren’t together for too long despite knowing each other for over a year now. But… I guess when you know, you know, right? It was just so sudden! This ring is beautiful, but we actually picked it after the question.”

You were meant to say exactly that – just in case someone who was too close to you noticed the absence of the ring before – and overall, you weren’t lying in the true sense of the word, only omitting the truth… it was just so damn complicated!

“Oh?”

“Eh, that one is on me,” Steve saved you and you truly tried your best not to show your relief when he took over. “I wasn’t prepared. She deserves the best, but… eh, I suppose that with all the secrecy I was bottling up emotions for too long and I couldn’t contain it anymore, I… I asked without finding the perfect ring.”

You weren’t sure how he accomplished that, but a blush actually crept its way up his neck as if he was embarrassed at his own impulsiveness. You found it unbearably cute and clearly, you weren’t the only one.

“Aww, that is so precious! Can’t imagine any woman to be oppose to that. Right? Truly romantic, succumbing to the spirit of the moment, the rush of emotions!” the host gushed and you grinned at the nice pass she offered.

“Don’t I know it. It was… unusual. But our relationship isn’t exactly typical.” No shit. “So it suits us, I think. And yeah… I…uhm… I couldn’t believe it was happening.”

Once again, 100% undiluted truth.

“I have no doubt. The important thing is the two of you being happy. And I think all of our viewers can tell you two look very happy together.”

Did you?

“Well, she is a wonderful woman and she said yes. How could I be not delighted?” Steve beamed, effectively causing your heart to flutter foolishly.

A part of you – a very sizeable part of you – was enjoying this little pretending immensely, alright, trying to push all the possible outcomes for the two of you after breaking the fake relationship aside and succeeding, but at times, you couldn’t but feel overwhelmed anyway.

Like when Steve said that and it warmed you from inside out, your brain screaming at you that had this been real, you would have melted into a puddle of lovesick jello.

‘She is a wonderful woman and she said yes. How could I not be delighted?’

Why did he have to sound so unbelievably genuine? He had told you he was a terrible liar. Liar!

You forced a shaky but hopefully sweet smile and stretched your neck to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. In for a penny…

“That is so sweet!” the host commented instantly, basically cooing. “And chaste!”

SHIT, you totally walked into that one! But Steve kissed your head before and had got away with it without a single remark! How was this fair?

You tried to swallow your panic, instantly explaining, while your heart raced, slightly panicking.

“Uh, we’re not much for showing affection publicly and with the secrecy-“ you babbled, while Steve started his own reasoning: “The time I grew up in-“

“Ah, that’s understandable,” the woman agreed and the sound of the heavy rock which had seated itself in your stomach hitting the floor must have been caught by the audio tech, you were sure. That was how loud it must have been. Crisis averted. “But… come on. Don’t play all coy on us…”

Spoke too soon.

You gulped, eyeing Steve, who was no doubt better at hiding his panic than you were. You could tell by the intensity of his gaze though that his nerves were as wrecked at the moment as yours.

What else could you do though but comply, being on a TV and being asked to kiss? How obvious would it be if you refused?

…in for a pound.

He searched your face, observing every tiny motion of your mimic muscles, every twitch. You lowered your gaze to his lips – and damn, didn’t you, in your heart where you pretended this whole situation on hand was not going to end up in a terrible heartbreak on your part, want to kiss those full lips, so tempting – and raised you gaze back to lock it with his. You hoped you looked determined enough, but you confirmed it in soft-spoken words, simultaneously checking if he was alright with this.

“It’s okay, Steve. We can handle a bit of PDA this once, can’t we? I mean… we’ve made it official, after all.”

A barely visible smile appeared on his lips, an inconspicuous nod sealing the deal.

Two of his fingers slipped under your chin, angling your face just a bit, brining you closer to the paradise. That was what it was; your eyes fluttered shut and the moment his lips brushed yours to test the waters, you knew you tasted heaven.

You felt the shudder running through your body, but you couldn’t help it, unable to conceal the excitement mixed with nerves. Your palm found haven on his toned chest, an anchor to the ship raging on the sea of emotion that pulled you in, just as his lips explored yours more thoroughly, as if searching a haven of their own, finding it exactly where yours were. They sank in, thirsty for home, caressing and oh, oh so soft and warm, safe and wonderful.

He was the one to withdraw for some oxygen, reminding you that breathing, in fact, was a thing. Quite an essential thing. On instinct, you breathed in swiftly, but couldn’t help but kiss him again, only a tender brush of lips on lips, relishing in the sensation for only a fraction of second longer.

You forced your eyes open and your hand to slide to his waist, trying so hard to remember that you were, in fact, not alone. At all.

“Well… wow,” the interviewer breathed out, her chuckle carrying a pinch of surprise in it. “That’s what I call pure love. Thank you so much for coming here, Captain and future Mrs. Rogers.”

You wanted to say thank you for having us, but your brain was buzzing with million thoughts, still processing the sensation of Steve’s lips on yours and was epically failing, colours bursting inside instead, sending pleasant heat through your veins.

Luckily, Steve composed himself much faster and boy, wasn’t it saying something about your dynamics with each other.

“Thank you for having us, Laurel.”

Yeah, thanks, Laurel. Thanks to you, I reached the point of no return.

In other words; now I’m officially screwed.

Sam overestimated his time-managing skills, still finishing the stretching after his training when the interview started. For once, he was grateful for Tony’s need for extravagance, as every one of the Tower gyms offered a TV for Sam to watch while he wrapped it up.

At few times, he wasn’t able to tell whether he was groaning at his sore muscles or at the way his little sister and his best friend were sickeningly sweet on each other.

Seriously. He wouldn’t have questioned it if it they truly had been in a relationship (read: if they pulled their heads out of their asses and finally admitted how they felt about each other, for real), but the fact it was all pretend (not, except neither of them was aware of the other not pretending and Jesus, Sam’s head hurt) was worrying him.

The kiss was a case of its own.

Would they be able to walk out of that mess and stay friends, possibly more? Or would it drive a wedge between them forever, messy feelings and misunderstandings getting in the way?

He resumed watching on his phone as he made his way to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of juice, but stopped at the door when he heard voices coming from the room and instantly knew what was the subject of the discussion.

“Well. I say the interview was alright, not perfect, but alright, almost cute like the two of them together, after all… but the kiss did look like their first time,” Tony stated, sighing in disappointment.

“It was their first time, what did you expect? You didn’t really think they would be practicing beforehand, right?” Natasha snorted and Sam couldn’t but agree.

This was Steve they were talking about. The man had done a fair share of changes to his believes as he found himself in the new millennium, but certain principles he stuck to, which was something Sam was immensely grateful for.

He was about to join the discussion with his own input, when he froze in his tracks at Tony’s next words.

“Good point. But hey, she made them finally smack their mouths together. I call that a win. She was a good choice, we’re geniuses.”

“Yep,” came Natasha’s reply and Sam heard the distinct sound of a high-five, only to see their hands still up when he stormed into the room.

For the moment, he ignored the creepy fact that the screen was frozen at the image of their lips locked together and glared at the two Avengers, irritated and hungry for answers.

“What the hell do you mean you’re geniuses?”

“Blyad'!” Natasha cursed, frowning as she spotted the look on Sam’s face and how his hands were balled into fists with enough force to nearly snap his phone in half.

Tony eyed Natasha, not sure what exactly she said and not quite caring; the sentiment behind the word was apparently clear enough to him as it was to Sam.

The expression on Tony’s face spoke a thousand of words; or perhaps only three: We are screwed.

Sam wholeheartedly agreed as he paced to the pair, fuming.

“Start. Talking,” he hissed, each word clipped, as he was staring them down, ignorant to the fact these were a billionaire and a former KGB assassin he was ordering around. “Like right now.”

Part 5

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @bobertswagert @kakakatey @ccolz88-blog @joeyrumlow​ @lovemeterwrites​

If anyone wishes to be added to/removed from the tags, shoot me a message or something. 

[boreum-dal]

la confiture, pt. iii

fandom: miraculous ladybug (adrinette, nino/alya) 

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is one step closer to her dream of becoming a top chef when she's hired to cook at the famed restaurant, la confiture. but to get to the top, she's got to surpass adrien agreste, her rival and the son of la confiture's owner.

too bad he's so sweet that he's nearly impossible to dislike.

and too bad she loves when he invites her over after work to test out new dishes at his apartment.

and too bad his relationship with his father makes her want to hold him and never let him go.

and--just like that, her dreams don't seem so simple anymore.

“Marinette…”

Marinette turned around, too surprised to do anything besides look at Adrien’s hand, just barely touching her arm, and then up at his eyes, dazed and full of… What was that? Confusion? Appreciation? Something she didn’t know how to name. She wondered vaguely to herself how they could look so green and vibrant in the dim lamplight of his foyer. It wasn’t fair.

“Why... Why are you doing this for me?” Adrien asked, his voice quiet.

Marinette felt her heart drop, a soft breath escaping her. Oh, Adrien. “Because you’re my friend, of course. And I didn’t want you to be sick and alone with no one to help you.”

cross-posted: ao3

prev: i | ii

la confiture

part iii.

Comment from Chat Noir on “Chocolate-Glazed Marble Cake” 

1:31 AM

22/1

Hi, Ladybug! I hope you take comfort in the fact that the cake looked delicious, even if not the most aesthetically pleasing. It’s unfortunate that one of your cakes broke, but the other looked beautiful when it came out of the oven! I also totally sympathize with your frustration with tempering the chocolate for the glaze. Truth be told, for things like glaze, I find it’s much easier to do away with couverture and just go with a big slab of chocolate compound. You won’t have to deal with the mattifying effect you described, and the glaze will look professional grade. Thanks as always for your wonderful posts. They really do make my week!

  Reply Comment from Ladybug to Chat Noir on “Chocolate-Glazed Marble Cake”

2:40 AM

22/1

Chat Noir, thank you for the solid advice. I did a little reading on compounds after your post and am sad that I put myself through the pains of tempering couverture chocolate now, ha. Thanks also for your kind words. I always love getting to know my followers, but I’d like to say I’m so happy you’ve become a regular commenter these last few weeks. These days, I find myself wondering what you will have to say in particular about my dishes with each post! Please take care. 

---

“How is it that you stop by the restaurant and talk to Nino one time and land a date within five minutes of meeting him?”

Alya laughed. “I’m a charmer, what can I say?”

Marinette shook her head as she whisked a bit of cream into the sauce she was simmering. “You really are. Well, he’s a wonderful guy, and I actually think you would get along really well. I’m not sure why I didn’t think to introduce you two before. Here, come try this.”

Alya hopped off of her seat on one of the barstools by Marinette’s kitchen counter, wine glass in hand, and let Marinette tip a spoonful of sauce into her mouth. “Oh, that is so good.”

“Yeah?” Marinette grinned. “That’s great—I’ve been trying for days now to lessen the amount of cream I use in this sauce to make it less heavy, but it’s been really hard to replicate the taste.”

“Guess you found a winner! I can’t wait to eat. So tell me more about Nino.” Alya leaned back against the counter beside Marinette and took a sip of her wine.

Marinette glanced up as she continued to stir, thinking. “Mm... Well, he’s very easygoing, a good conversationalist, and a good listener. He doesn’t get riled up easily, but he’ll also stand his ground. It kind of makes him the perfect bartender, because he can talk with anyone and nothing will ruffle his feathers, not even the worst customer or Gabriel Agreste on his worst day. Plus, he’s so nice.”

“And cute,” Alya added.

Marinette giggled. “And cute. I think he’s also interested in music? He mentioned DJing at a few places before he started working as our bartender.”

“So that’s how he got tickets to that show!”

“What show?”

“The one he’s taking me to for our date. It’s a really popular DJ on his European tour. Those tickets were sold out weeks ago.”

“Somehow, it doesn’t shock me that you’re going to a club for your first date,” Marinette said, laughing.

“Hey, now. I’m not a cheap date. He’s taking me to dinner first!” Alya grinned. “Also, he mentioned to me he’s close with your little chef prince.”

Marinette frowned as she turned the stove down and removed her pan from the heat. “My who?”

“Adrien Agreste. So if you’re so close with Nino, why can’t you use him to get closer to Adrien?” Alya reached up into Marinette’s cupboards and began to pull down plates.

Marinette snorted. “How would I even do that?”

“I don’t know, like figure out if they ever hang out outside of work and then tag along with Nino!”

“Okay, now that would be shameless,” Marinette said, giggling. She carefully began plating the steak and mushroom marsala. “Just too weird. Nino and I aren’t nearly close enough for that. Plus, I don’t need to get any closer to Adrien.”

Alya frowned. “Why not?”

“It makes me… I don’t know, confused?” Marinette said, keeping her eyes on the plates. “It’s simpler not to know him well. Like you said, it’s much harder to compete with someone I like.”

“There is such a thing as friendly rivalry, you know.” 

“I know.” Marinette sighed. “I just preferred when I had tunnel vision and this singular goal with no distractions.”

Alya patted her friend on the back. “Look, Marinette. You’re a fantastic chef. You’re also a fantastic human being. It’s natural that people around you will want to get to know you. I think you can afford to make a few friends while you work your way up the ladder, don’t you think?”

Marinette chewed her lower lip before smiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Alya grinned. “And a little romance wouldn’t hurt, either!”

Marinette laughed and whacked Alya playfully with the dish towel she’d been holding. “As if. Let’s eat!”

---

Marinette stared at the metal numbers glued to Adrien’s front door and wondered to herself how she’d ended up here for the second time in a month. She bounced a bit on her toes, wondering why she was nervous to knock. 

Despite what she’d told Alya at dinner a few days ago, she’d caught herself wondering—only when her guard was down—whether Adrien would actually invite her over again. They’d brushed elbows and exchanged glances and jokes at work a few times, and they’d left and locked up together even more, but beyond that, he hadn’t expressed any interest in seeing her outside of the restaurant again. Much to Marinette’s own surprise, she’d found herself disappointed instead of pleased—until he’d asked her out of the blue a few days ago if he’d like to come by on Monday to learn how to make that coffee cake. 

Alya’s triumphant cackle when Marinette had told her echoed in her ears. 

Whatever, she thought to herself. This is normal. Perfectly fine! I’m excited for no other reason than the fact that we’re friendly coworkers, and he offered to show me some new tricks. Like baking a coffee cake.

She sighed before knocking on the door. 

“It’s open!”

The door creaked loudly as Marinette opened it and stepped inside, taking a moment to shiver in pleasure at the burst of warm air. It was frigid outside, and the drafty interior hallways of Adrien’s apartment building were not much better. She glanced around at the kitchen and living area as she shrugged off her coat, but Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Plagg appeared beside her, butting his head against her ankles. Marinette smiled and reached down to pet him. “Hello, chaton. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Marinette?” 

Marinette looked up, and there was Adrien, dressed in a grey long-sleeved knit and black fitted joggers. She’d never seen him so dressed down before—even when he’d had her over previously, he’d been in jeans and a button-down. It made her feel like he was a little more human, even if a voice in the back of her head reminded her unhelpfully that he still looked quite handsome.

“Hi,” she said, standing up as he came over to take her coat from her. “Thank you for having me over.”

“Anytime.” Adrien smiled, and this close up, Marinette realized he had a dimple in his left cheek. She promptly urged herself to ignore this.

“Sorry I didn’t come to the door—I was digging around in the pantry for the hazelnuts. I thought for a second I was out and nearly panicked. Ready to learn the ways of the Agreste family coffee cake?”

Marinette caught an apron he tossed to her as she followed him into the kitchen area, where Adrien had already set up two stations with all the ingredients they’d need. 

She tried to quell her nerves; Adrien had proven himself time and again to be kind and astonishingly nonjudgmental. He wouldn’t make her feel bad once he saw how badly she would botch this cake. Or tell his father and then have a good laugh about it. Right?

“I was born ready.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Adrien cheered. Plagg looked up at Adrien disdainfully. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

---  

“Look at that,” Adrien said softly, peering into the oven window beside Marinette. “You’re a natural.”

Marinette smiled, feeling herself flush. She glanced back into the window of the oven, where her surprisingly not-malformed coffee cake was baking. “We can’t say that just yet, can we? We’ll jinx it. Plus, look at my work station. And myself,” she said, standing up and laughing as she held out her forearms, which were covered entirely in flour.

Adrien chuckled, wiping up a little bit of flour from Marinette’s work station with his finger. “There were... a few mishaps, sure. But what’s important is you soldiered on and didn’t let the mistakes affect your final product!”

“You’re very kind, Adrien.” Marinette grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the sink, intending to wipe the remnants of flour and batter from the counter while they waited for the cake to bake. She paused when she felt a hand on her arm and turned to Adrien, eyes wide.

“We’ll leave that for later,” Adrien said, a grin on his face. “For now, how about a latte? Can’t have coffee cake without coffee.”

Marinette felt her stomach do that same uncomfortable flip it had done when she’d first walked up to his door that afternoon. She swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore it. “U-uh—sure.” She smiled. “A latte sounds nice.”

The two ended up on Adrien’s sofa, artfully poured lattes in hand. Marinette had removed her shoes and her knees were drawn up to her chest, chin resting on them as she relayed to Adrien her experiences growing up in the public school system. 

“So you’re still friends with Alya to this day?” Adrien asked, eyes wide. “How old are you?”

“Yes, she’s still my best friend,” Marinette said proudly. “I’m twenty-eight.”

Adrien whistled. “That’s incredible. Twenty years of friendship. I don’t think I’ve known anyone for twenty years except my father.”

He sounded wistful, and Marinette took a moment to observe him more carefully. Adrien sat with his elbows leaning on his knees, hands folded around his cup, bright green eyes staring out at the cityscape beyond his window. His mouth was set in what looked, at first glance, like a neutral line, but when Marinette looked a little closer, she realized that one corner was tilted up—but then, she thought, why did he look sad?

Marinette knew how demanding the life of a chef was. The days they worked were long and tiring, beginning before lunch and often ending in the late hours of the night when the city was already shutting down. The few days they had off consisted of catching up on sleep where they could and then still spending time training to perfect their craft. So in a sense, every chef was probably a little bit deprived of personal relationships compared to the average person.

But Adrien had revealed to Marinette as they’d taken their first few sips of coffee that he had been home-schooled his whole life until he’d attended culinary school. He had been given no chance by his father to even consider working anywhere besides La Confiture upon graduation. And upon learning these things, she’d come to a realization that produced the strangest ache in her chest: Adrien must have been profoundly lonely throughout his childhood. Even in adulthood, it was evident in the way he so readily opened his arms and his home to his colleagues.

“Marinette?”

Marinette startled, nearly spilling her coffee. “Hm?”

Adrien’s lips curled up into a soft smile, and now Marinette’s stomach was doing those stupid flips and that ache in her chest was getting stronger. When he spoke, he sounded amused. “You seemed like you were checked out there for a little bit. Or maybe there’s flour on my face?” 

“Oh!” Marinette could feel her face getting hotter by the moment, and she scrambled for something to say. “I—um—I was just thinking—speaking of Alya, did you know that she and Nino are going on a date this weekend?”

Adrien, much to Marinette’s relief, seemed totally distracted by this information. “Is she really? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah! So—maybe one day, if it works out between them, I mean—we can all grab lunch—I mean—that is, I’d love for you to meet her…” Marinette trailed off and tried not to imagine how red her face was by now. Why couldn’t she stop rambling?

Adrien didn’t seem to notice, and instead gave her that same slow smile, electric green eyes trained on hers. “I’d really like that. Thanks, Marinette.”

In lieu of responding—or throwing herself out of his window, which was her preferred reaction—Marinette opted to gulp down the remainder of her latte.

---

“So, how was your date?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a date, Alya.” 

“You went to his house and baked and had coffee and then he made you dinner! Sounds like a date to me.”

“The dinner was impromptu,” Marinette mumbled into the phone as she settled into bed.

“Dates can be impromptu.”

“Alya,” Marinette groaned. “Can we not? I’m confused enough as it is.”

”Okay, okay. Can you at least tell me how it went?”

“It went fine, of course,” Marinette sighed. “I mean, he was perfectly sweet, he’s a great teacher, and when we talked…”

“When you talked?”

“It was… I just learned so much about him that made me feel… I don’t know, like he needed a friend. Like I should be his friend.”

“Hmm. That’s not the tune you were singing a few days ago.”

“I know,” Marinette said, and then, only because this was Alya she was talking to and no one else, she let herself admit, “But maybe now I’m in too deep.”

Alya was quiet for a moment, and Marinette knew that her friend was thinking of how to respond. Thankfully, she didn’t press the issue.

“So did the cake turn out okay?” Alya asked, pivoting to another subject. “You can use the recipe for your blog!”

”No way. On the off chance he reads my blog, he’d figure out who I was in an instant if I did that.”

“So?”

“So then he’d know that I’m a sham of a chef!”

“Marinette,” Alya said, exasperated. “You are not a sham. You’re working at one of the top restaurants in Paris. The Gabriel Agreste personally called you in to tell you you’re doing a good job. Just because you never attended cooking school or got formal training doesn’t mean you’re not a real chef. If anything, it makes you even more amazing for having gotten where you are today.”

Marinette smiled softly. “Thanks, Alya.”

“You know it. Any time you feel that impostor syndrome coming on and need someone to kick its ass, I’m your girl.”

---

Marinette glanced at her watch as she made her way out of the kitchen. She frowned. It was already past three, and Adrien was nowhere to be seen. By now, he’d normally have already finished whatever prep work he had to do and would have moved on to help the others, cracking terrible jokes that everyone secretly loved. It felt awfully quiet without him around. 

Nino called Marinette over from the bar, startling her out of her thoughts.

“What’s up?” Marinette said, taking a seat at one of the stools. 

“Looking for Adrien?”

Marinette’s brows shot up to her forehead. “Wh-no, I—” 

“It’s okay,” Nino said, laughing. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ve just seen you looking around all afternoon, but I get it because I’ve been worried, too.”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Well, do you know where he is?”

Nino nodded. “He finally texted me back about ten minutes ago. Said he’s at home sick.”

“Sick?” Marinette repeated. Her frown became even more pronounced. “He must be feeling horrible if he couldn’t even come in."

“Yeah, I think so, too. He’s such a workaholic.”

Marinette glanced around to make sure they were relatively alone, and then she leaned in. “How does Chef Agreste feel about it?” she whispered.

Nino shook his head. “He’s in a bad mood. No telling if that’s why, but he’s probably not very happy that Adrien couldn’t make it to work.”

“Of course,” Marinette sighed. Chef Agreste did not strike her as the type of person who easily overlooked even his own son calling in sick on a shift. “Do you know if anyone’s been by to see him?”

“I don’t think so,” Nino said. “I offered to take him some leftovers from the restaurant after we closed up, but he said he’d be okay. I worry about him, though, living by himself and being that ill.”

Marinette turned this information over in her head. Adrien was a grown man, and he could obviously take care of himself—but the picture she had painted of him over the time she’d gotten to know him made her think he was probably lonely and wracked with guilt, on top of being sick. 

Marinette smiled at Nino. “You know, I make a pretty mean chicken soup... I’ll bring it by to him after work. I’ll send him your regards.”

---

Adrien opened his eyes to darkness, completely disoriented and not quite able to understand what had woken him in the first place. His head was pounding. 

His phone buzzed twice more on his nightstand before going silent, and he realized someone had been trying to call him. Blindly, he reached over to grab his phone and looked at the screen. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Missed Call

It registered somewhere in the back of his fever-addled brain that since they had exchanged numbers, Marinette had only texted and never called him before. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was at his ear, and he heard two rings before Marinette’s voice came through the speaker.

“Hello? Adrien?”

“Hey, Marinette,” he rasped. He cleared his throat—he didn’t realize until just then that he’d gone the entire day without speaking. “What’s up? I missed your call.”

“How’re you feeling?” 

Adrien sat up, leaning back on one hand. Plagg stirred in his spot on top of the duvet between Adrien’s calves. His covers fell off of his torso, and he immediately regretted the action. Sweat had soaked through his t-shirt as he’d slept, and the air outside of his blankets felt frigid against his dampened skin. 

“Oh, you know. Just…”

“Terrible, I’m guessing, if you called in sick,” Marinette said, her voice sympathetic. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he lied. He leaned back against his pillow. The inside of his head was so hot, but his body was so cold. He had no idea how to fix this. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Of course! Actually, the reason I’m calling is—well, I know you’re not well, but I was wondering if I could stop by? I made you soup.” 

The surprise cleared Adrien’s head better than any medication had all day. “Soup?” 

“Yeah, but I also completely understand if you don’t want visitors,” Marinette responded quickly. “Plus, it’s late—I’m sorry, this was stupid of me, and—”

“No, no,” Adrien said, sitting up again. “Please—please come by. If it’s not too much trouble.” 

There was a pause. “You sure?” 

“Yes. Soup sounds wonderful. Are you coming from the restaurant? I’ll see you in fifteen minutes?"

“Um... Not to be creepy, but I’m already here. I was just going to drop it off, so—”

“Oh,” Adrien said, too dumbfounded to respond in a more intelligent way. He shook his head. He felt a rush of appreciation for Marinette’s thoughtfulness. After he’d reluctantly called in sick, his own father hadn’t called once to check on him—not that he’d expected him to. “I mean—no, it’s not creepy at all. Hang on, I’ll buzz you in.” 

---

Marinette could have kicked herself. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking, coming over uninvited. And of course Adrien would be way too nice to turn her down, as intrusive as she was being. The door opened before she had time to convince herself to turn around.

“Hey,” Adrien croaked, and then he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry. I probably sound horrible.”

All of Marinette’s embarrassment drained away into concern. Adrien leaned against the doorway, pale and gaunt in wrinkled, baggy pajama pants and a t-shirt, blond hair mussed and matted against his head this way and that. He looked like he might fall over any moment.

“Adrien! Just how sick are you?” Marinette said, rushing inside. She set the large container of soup down on the nearest surface and reached up to feel his forehead, and then felt blood rush to her cheeks when she recognized how intimate the action felt. 

Adrien, for his part, didn’t seem to mind; he closed his eyes, and Marinette felt the slightest pressure as he leaned his forehead into her hand. Something warm surged inside of her at the trusting nature of the action.

“You’re burning up,” she said, feeling her brows knit together. “Have you eaten anything today? Taken any medication?”

“I’m fine,” Adrien mumbled. 

“I’ll take that as a no. Well, lucky for you, I brought chicken soup! And there should be enough for you to last you through tomorrow, too.” She picked the carton back up and held it up to him proudly. “Mind if I use your kitchen to heat this up?”

“Oh—of course not,” Adrien said, slightly dumbfounded. “Um... Do you need help?”

Marinette laughed. “You are impossible. No, I don’t need help! I just wanted to pour it into a pot and heat it over your stove for a bit. You should go lie down.” She turned to head toward the kitchen, pausing only when she felt warm fingers brushing against her elbow.

“Marinette…”

Marinette turned around, too surprised to do anything besides look at Adrien’s hand, just barely touching her arm, and then up at his eyes, dazed and full of… What was that? Confusion? Appreciation? Something she didn’t know how to name. She wondered vaguely to herself how they could look so green and vibrant in the dim lamplight of his foyer. It wasn’t fair. 

“Why... Why are you doing this for me?” Adrien asked, his voice quiet. 

Marinette felt her heart drop, a soft breath escaping her. Oh, Adrien. “Because you’re my friend, of course. And I didn’t want you to be sick and alone with no one to help you.” 

Adrien’s eyes widened ever so slightly—or maybe that was just Marinette’s imagination. His lips parted, like he might say something, but instead, he let out a quiet exhale. Marinette was aware, perhaps too acutely, of the warmth of his fingertips, still on her elbow. Later, she would guess that they stood like that, staring at each other in complete silence, for maybe three seconds after she’d answered his question. But in the time it happened, it felt like forever.

“I’m—I’m gonna go heat this up, okay?” she finally said. “I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

“Ah, right. Okay.” Adrien paused. “You’re eating, too, right? You must be starving after work, after all.”

Marinette glanced at the clock, surprised. She hadn’t even realized how late it was. She looked back at Adrien, who was watching her again, this time with clear anticipation, evident just at the end of the curve of his lips, in the slope of his raised eyebrows. She was reminded, again, of how much he seemed to crave human company, and how much he must have been deprived of it in his lifetime.

“Sure,” she said, nodding. “I’ll make myself some, too. Find something good on TV, won’t you?”

---

Adrien was a no-show the next day, as was expected. Marinette was mostly relieved—she wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d tried to drag himself out of bed, even in his condition, if his father gave him hard enough of a time—but she also found herself enjoying work a little bit less. As Rose had noted the day before, Adrien’s absence was oddly loud.

Thankfully, La Confiture was so busy that night that Marinette didn’t have too much time to think about it. With Adrien gone, everyone’s workload had increased somewhat, and as one of the more junior chefs in the kitchen, Marinette was saddled with quite a bit of extra work. But in the few spare moments she did have, she thought more than once about pulling out her phone and sending him a message.

Just checking on you. Hope you’re ok. Eat all of your soup!

Marinette stared at the screen of her phone, which glared back at her in the darkness of the locker room, where she’d come for a brief reprieve from all the action. She chewed on her lower lip as her thumb hovered over the “send” key. Why was she hesitating? Her stomach felt funny—maybe she’d caught the bug from Adrien. It was a perfectly normal message to send. But she felt like she’d imposed so much the night before by just assuming she could come by, and—

“Marinette!” Juleka’s voice rang. “We’ve got a situation in the kitchen!”

Marinette sighed as she pressed her thumb against the backspace key and shoved the phone back in the pocket of her coat. 

---

At 1:05 AM, when the kitchen was finally clean and the restaurant was totally silent, Marinette let herself into the locker room and began to pull on her coat. She picked her phone out of the pocket and hit the home key absentmindedly before nearly dropping it in surprise. Below a missed call from her mom and half a dozen texts from Alya, there was a particular name she hadn’t expected to show up in her notifications.

Adrien Agreste

3 New Messages

12:47 AM

Marinette slid her thumb across the screen, not sure what to expect, and opened the messages.

Hey, thank you again for the soup! It was just as good on day two. I feel better already. Hope things weren’t too insane at the restaurant tonight.

And then, beneath a picture of Plagg, standing on the coffee table and sticking his nose into a near-empty bowl:

Plagg likes the soup, too, btw.

Marinette felt her lips curve up into a smile. Without too much thought, nerves forgotten, her thumbs automatically typed out a response. 

Tell him I’ll bring some more by tomorrow, if he’d like.

An answer came back immediately, and as she read it, Marinette registered with some shock what that odd, dully painful bubbling at the pit of her stomach was. 

He would love that. 

[solar-bean]

First Meeting

I have like 3 different versions for how Zola met the Autobots ( specifically Optimus) but thos one's my favorite.

So this was it. I wake up. Shower. Feed RG0 ( pronounced Argo ) my Rottweiler, German Shepard mix. Eat breakfast. Workout. Then tinker and tinker till the day is spent on whatever project I'll probably never finish. I usually skip lunch and go straight to dinner. After that I'd read, paint watch tv or even practice playing my ukulele. Then I'd sleep and do it all over again as I've been doing for the past three years.

The best part is that my routine is never interrupted by outsiders since I'm alone in the woods. Or at least until now.

One night RG0 decided that he wanted to stray away from our normal path. I was fine with even though he was off leash. Nighttime in the forest no longer scared me. I felt more safe than anything. I still brought my shotgun just in case.

Then I heard a loud boom and stopped in my tracks. Before I knew it RG0 bolted into the direction of the loud sound. I hurried after him in a panic.

" Crazy dog! Now is not the time to be curious!!!"

He zoomed past the twisting trees over the uneven ground that slowed me down. Over the thumping of my heartbeat I could hear more loud sounds that were all getting louder. What was this dog leading me to? Thankfully he stopped at a dead end.

I recognized it as a small cliff that overlooked the largest valley in the forest. RG0 stood at the edge and stared down quietly with his ears perked. I slowed down and began to catch my breath only for it to leave my lungs again in shock.

The once peaceful, lush valley was now a warzone filled with....robots??? Why the hell are there robots?! And why are they fighting for that matter?!! There had to be ten - no - twelve of them. All with futuristic guns and other weapons used to harm and maybe even kill. But there seemed to be two groups. It wasn't just random fighting.

The ones with brighter colors seemed to only be fighting the ones with sharper, more threatening features. Wait did they have matching symbols? Ugh! I can't tell without my glasses.

Hang on...what were these things exactly? Some kind of government project gone wrong or maybe a test? It would make since sense these woods are deserted despite me and RG0. Wait did they not know I was here. I have been keeping a low profile. Maybe I'm not suppose to be seeing this. Holy Crap!!! One of the little ones just ripped off the other's arm!!!!

" Ok buddy," I held onto RG0s collar and began to step back slowly. " No clue what the hells going on but we're leaving right now."

Then as luck would have it, one if the robots was blasted into the cliff with an eerily human cry of pain. The force of the impact made me fall over and RG0 yelp. Apparently we'd been loud enough to be heard since the robot, who was tall enough to rest their elbow ( or at least what looked like one ) on the cliff's edge, spotted us.

They were red, blue and silver from what I could see. They also seemed to be wearing some sort of mask. But what really stood out was their glowing eyes that stared back at mine. They held so much emotion and intelligence. That and they were the most beautiful shade of blue.

Before I could admire the metallic stranger any longer, a screeching voice runge out.

" Well Prime, it looks like you've found one of the planet's many pests. Here let me dispose of it for you."

Oh that can't be good.

An energy blast from above missed me and RG0 by a hair. I frantically searched above the trees to see another robot high in the sky with a blaster pointed at us.

Oh great they can fly too!!!

Without a second thought we bolted back down the path with the flying bot hot on our tails. RG0 was taking the path home but I managed to signal him to follow me down another in the opposite direction. I hadn't been this way in a while but the last thing I need is them knowing where we live. It would have been a lot easier to runaway if I didn't have to keep running ina zigzag to avoid blasts. From the high pitched laughter, I could tell that this metal douchebag was enjoying our scurrying.

The robot must have gotten tired of flying since they landed on the ground. Right in front of us.

" As fun as this chase has been, human. I'll need to finish the job before Megatron gets suspicious of why my mission is taking so long. Not that you understand any of what I'm saying. With your inferior intellect and all."

Ok. Doucheness just went from a 10 to a 20.

They pointed their blaster at me, causing RG0 to jump in front of me and growl at them.

" Aw. The organic has a loyal pet. Let's see how well it handles my plasma beam."

" No!"

I held RG0 close to me and awaited the blast that never came. Instead another came from behind us and hit the flying robot's in their blaster, damaging it.

" Leave them alone Starscream!" came a noble, booming voice.

It was the red robot from before.

" Argh! How dare you interrupt my fun once again Optimus Prime!"

Ok good I've got their names now. Guessing that Optimus is the good guy.

Oh great now they're fighting and I'm way too close!

I barely managed to get out of the way as they tussled around, making the ground shake. Once I was a good I looked over my shoulder to see Optimus, the nice robot, pause to give me a look that said "run." He was distracted long enough for Starscream, aka the douchebag, land a kick on his injured side. That must be where he was shot earlier considering there was a hole leaking some sort of fluid.

Optimus groaned and fell to his knees. He was about to get up before Starscream pointed his still somewhat functional blaster at his face.

" You've disappointed me, Prime. Bested by a few blows? Where's that legendary power?! Ah well. No matter. Megatron shall be pleased when I deliver your helm to him."

That should've been my cue get RG0 and I ro safety, seeing that Optimus was only fighting this guy to give us an opening to flee. But was he really going to die? Or would he be fine if we left? It's not like we could help him anyway!

Unless....

" Hey Starscream!"

" Huh-"

Starscream emitted a pathetic wail when one one of my rifle's bullets hit his face. Then another. And another.

" Why you little-"

Before he could aim his blaster, RG0 jumped on his foot and barked up at him loudly.

" Ew get off me you disgusting organic parasite!"

He hopped from foot to foot as RG0 jumped around his feet and pawed at them. Meanwhile I kept shooting at him, making a few noticeable dents in his armor. All the chaos made him do a panicked jig and whine. I couldn't help but giggle.

'Serves you right!!!'

He had enough once he accidentally shot himself in the foot trying to get RG0.

" ARGH! Oh that's it! Now you both die!"

Then Optimus, now having recovered some, shoved him at full force. It sent him tumbling threw a few trees, scratching his metal skin and bending one of his wings. He laid a groaning mess in a heap with Optimus' gun aimed at his head.

" I think it's time for you to go."

With that Starscream transformed into a jet- wait how the HELL- and flew away. I was so taken aback by his transformation that I didn't notice one of the now dented trees give out and fall towards me.

" Look out!" Optimus warned.

RG0 thankfully tackled me out of the way but my head hit the ground to hard and everything turned black.

-------------

I woke up with a throbbing headache and sore muscles. Even worse my bed felt terrible and the curtains were open in my room.

Wait a minute....

'This isn't my room!'

I surveyed my surroundings. I was apparently seating in the front seat of a truck.

'WHO'S TRUCK AM I IN???'

Before I could panic for much longer a familiar voice came from the radio.

" Good morning. How are you feeling?"

" U-uhmm...fine I guess. Who am I talking to?" I said while staring skeptically at the radio and scooting as far into the seat as I could.

" Forgive me for not introducing myself properly. I am Optimus Prime. The mech you met from last night."

'Oh great! That wasn't all a weird whiskey induced dream.'

" But......you're a truck now???"

" Yes."

" Weren't you a robot before?"

" If by 'robot' you mean my primary form, then also yes."

I burried my face in my hands and groaned.

"Ughhh what's going on?"

I then remembered the lack of a certain furry companion. I was about to panic again until I saw RG0 a few yards away from us and playing with some of the other robots from last night. A small yellow one was on the ground, nearly mirroring RG0's play position. I would've found the whole scene cute if it wasn't so bizarre.

" If you don't mind me asking. I would like to know the name of the human who saved me."

I snorted.

" Saved you? No way. If anything you saved me."

" If you hadn't have stayed and distracted Starscream, I would've been severely injured if not offlined. You could have left me there and saved yourself. But you didn't. You showed true bravery."

" Aw stop with the flattery. I was just paying you back for helping us first. So consider us even."

" Then thank you miss....?"

" Princeton. Well Zola is my first name."

" Then thank you Zola. And I'm sure we have much to discuss."

" That might be an understatement."

And it was.

[starship-squidlet]

Kurta’s Moving Castle: Chapter One

Summary: Leorio is a young medical student in the middle of a war. While he studies for his final exams, he works in an infirmary away from the front lines. One day, he is rescued from a brawl by a mysterious stranger. A curse, a giant chicken, and a storm later, he finds himself swept off into a whole new adventure... (Hunter X Hunter and Howl’s Moving Castle fusion)

Word Count: 1,486

Disclaimer: Kurta’s Moving Castle Preface

A/N: Hey, y’all! I’m going through and cleaning up/reformatting all of my older fics, starting with this one (since it’s shorter then the collective mess of i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it) so get ready for a slight hxh spam... Do I still have Newsies fics to fix post-URL change? Yes. I’m procrastinating on them for whatever reason. Anyways, I’m also planning to work on finishing some of my older abandoned fics in the near future (starting with this one), so this is also in preparation for that!

Original A/N: Okay, so I wasn't going to post this just yet, until I had a few more chapters finished, but... It's just so fun I couldn't help myself! I make no promises that the next chapter will come particularly soon, but we'll see what happens (aka how work goes for me this week...). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! I'm really having a lot of fun writing this story, so I hope you all have fun reading it too! Please let me know what you think!!!

Next chapter: Chapter Two

Leorio leaned back in his chair and sighed, slinging his arm over his eyes.

Knock knock.

"Come in!" Leorio called, sitting himself back up.

"Hello, Leorio," Melody's soft voice chimed from the doorway. "The infirmary is closed for the day. You don't have night watch tonight; do you want to come out with the rest of us?"

"No, that's okay," Leorio half-turned to look at her. "I want to get some more studying done tonight."

"Are you sure?" there was a gentle admonishment in Melody's tone. "You can't stay cooped up in here forever."

"It won't be forever," Leorio grinned. "Just until I graduate with my M.D."

Melody laughed. "I suppose that's fair. Well, if you change your mind, the rest of us will be over at Forger’s."

"Okay," Leorio had already turned back to the textbooks spread across his desk. He heard the click of the door settling back into its latch and sighed again. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. Final exams are in a few weeks, and then you'll be able to go out with the others.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Despite his best intentions, Leorio found himself unable to focus. Finally, after being distracted by the whistle of the train outside for the fourth time in an hour, he slammed his book shut and stood up with such force that his chair fell backwards to the floor. "One night won't hurt," he declared to the closed window in front of him. "I'll come back and study tomorrow. Maybe even later tonight!"

With that decided, he grabbed his jacket and was off. He waved at a few of the nurses and field doctors who were still around despite the late hour on his way out the door, but didn't pay much attention to them. He hadn't really taken the time to get to know anyone at the field hospital. Melody he'd known before, and she was the one who introduced him to Zepile, owner and bartender of Forger’s, the best bar in town. They were his only two friends in this lonely place…

Outside, the air was crisp and clear, and smelled of locomotive smoke and fall. The town had really cleaned up for the parade of soldiers passing through. Leorio hadn’t gone to the display that afternoon; he was too busy in the infirmary taking care of the wounded from the war--the true heroes, as far as he was concerned--to laud those who had spent the battles watching from the background. He pushed the war out of his mind. There were no signs of it on a night like tonight, after all. No sense in spoiling a perfectly good evening with something so foul as senseless fighting.

Leorio took the long way to Forger’s. It was nice enough to do so, and he could avoid the parties of visiting soldiers spilling out of just about every bar or restaurant by taking the back streets. Unfortunately, he didn’t actually know the back streets particularly well, and soon found himself lost as the sun dipped below the distant hills.

Leorio was trying to get his bearings when he ran into… someone. He staggered backwards, a rebuke on his lips (despite fully knowing that he was the one at fault) until he saw the bright blue and red uniform on the man in front of him. He immediately swallowed his pride and muttered an apology, attempting to continue on his way.

“Hey!” the blond soldier--he probably would have been attractive in any other situation, uniform or not, Leorio mused--barked, grabbing Leorio’s arm as he tried to brush past. “Watch where you’re going, buddy!”

“I said I was sorry,” Leorio kept his voice meek and his eyes directed at the ground. Maybe if the guy thought he was a coward, he’d let him go. In truth, it was everything Leorio could do not to punch the soldier in his smug, pretty face.

“Mousy little thing, aren’t you?” the blond laughed, shoving Leorio back into the stone wall behind him.

Little? Leorio, who stood head and shoulders over the brawnier soldier, arched an eyebrow.

“What’s going on over here?” an even gruffer voice called from the nearest doorway. Leorio didn’t find it hopeful; the only person who would consider getting involved in a dispute with a soldier was another soldier.

“This little mouse bumped into me and thought he could get away without apologizing,” the first soldier called back.

The man who stepped into view sent Leorio’s heart into his mouth. He was huge; easily as tall as Leorio, and twice as broad. His biceps were thicker than Leorio’s thighs--and Leorio didn’t consider himself a small man. “I, uh… I did apologize, actually. It was just a little… quiet?” Leorio stammered.

He didn’t even see the fist coming.

The blond soldier’s punch hit him square over his left eye and cheekbone, and sent his head slamming back into the stone wall, effectively dazing him.

“Ow,” Leorio mumbled.

“You calling me a liar, pretty boy?” the blond sneered, grabbing Leorio by the jaw.

Oh. That’s what he wants.

The other soldier was already pinning Leorio in from the other side, reaching up to grab his tie. He leaned in close enough for Leorio to feel his bristling mustache and smell his breath--heavy with alcohol--and spoke: “It’s not smart to tell lies to people like us.”

“Hello there.”

Three heads snapped around to find the source of the new voice. Leorio’s heart pounded with terror on behalf of the new arrival. A small, slight blond with shaggy hair and perfectly tailored clothing stood in the dark alleyway a few feet from them, hand on his hip and head cocked to the side.

“What’s going on here, darling?”

Is he talking to me..?

“You with this guy?” the big soldier laughed. “You’re way out of his league.”

��Yeah, you should stick around with us for a little while,” the blond soldier simpered. “We can really show you a good time.”

“Too bad,” the new arrival sighed.

“‘Too bad’?” the blond soldier repeated.

“Too bad you two were just leaving,” the gentleman--because, with clothes like those, despite his haircut, he had to be something more than just a normal townsperson--twirled a finger in the air.

The two soldiers snapped to attention, saluted Leorio, and marched down the alley, past the cute blond, protesting the entire way.

“Wha--uh, what just happened?” Leorio mumbled as the blond appeared at his side--Leorio didn’t even see him move--and slotted himself against Leorio, draping Leorio’s arm over his shoulders.

“Just a little fun,” the blond smiled up at him through his messy golden hair. “They’re harmless, really, they just need to be reminded of that every now and then.” He started walking, pulling Leorio with him.

“‘Harmless’?” Leorio didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Where were you heading?”

“Oh, uh… Forger’s. It’s a bar.”

“I know the place,” the blond said. “Just stay close, and act natural. I’m being followed, and by something more dangerous than those two.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Leorio looked around. He thought he saw a shadow in the alley behind them, but couldn’t be sure.

“I said ‘act natural’,” the blond hissed. “I may not know you, but I don’t think that’s natural.”

“Sorry, but I got a little concerned when you said you were being followed by something dangerous,” Leorio grumbled, doing his best to keep his attention on the alley ahead.

“Too late.”

“Wait, what?” Leorio panicked.

“Run.”

And then the blond was pulling him along, racing down the alleyway faster than Leorio thought was humanly possible.

“Hey, you do know this is a dead end, right!?” Leorio yelped. There were definitely moving shadows all around them now.

“Not a problem!” the blond sang out. “Jump!”

They jumped.

They jumped up, and up, and up, and then… they were sailing through the air, over the rooftops of the buildings that had surrounded them moments before.

“Don’t look down!” the wind nearly stole the blond’s voice away, but the warning came just in time, as Leorio had been about to look behind them for the shadows. “They can’t fly like I can. We’ll lose them this way, at least long enough for me to drop you off.”

The flight didn’t last nearly long enough. Before Leorio knew it, they were beginning to descend, and then the blond was slipping out from under his arm and depositing him on the balcony of Forger’s.

“I’ll lead them away, don’t worry,” he smiled, not unkindly, down at Leorio before turning and taking a leap off of the balcony railing.

“Wait!” Leorio shouted, racing to the edge and peering down, half-expecting to see his newfound friend splattered over the cobblestones below. Instead, he saw a huge black bird soaring up from the courtyard and away into the night sky, shadows flitting along the ground behind it. “I didn’t even get your name…” Leorio sighed.

[day6imagines]

Dance With Me - College!AU

[ dowoon ]

*not requested 

word count; 1.9k

genre; fluff

summary - A college!au in which Dowoon, a music student, crosses paths with a fashion major and they immediately get along, despite their opposite personalities. Dowoon is encouraged to dance at a gig in a local venue, instead of shying away and standing reluctantly by the sidelines. 

Going back to college was never something I dreaded. I was just about to begin my third year at the country's most prestigious arts school. There was never a tedious, boring day being a fashion major; the subject was something I was passionate and inspired about. Third year would be just as fun and interesting as the previous two years, however it would be tougher with more detailed assignments and numerous of deadlines to meet. Last year I was fortunate to study abroad, appreciating my adoration for fashion even more.

After packing up and saying goodbye to my family for another few weeks, I got on the train, ready for a three hour journey back to campus. After I arrived, I followed the routine which I had grown accustomed to; dropping my bags off at my student apartment (which I shared with four other students) and greeting the students that had already arrived before leaving to collect this terms curriculum and timetable. I was delighted to see that for this term I had mostly morning classes, finishing early afternoon most days. I liked this since it meant no night classes, plus the campus and library were usually more quiet and less packed in the mornings. After I collected my information from the students office, I turned around to see the campus swarming with students, old and new. Something that I loved about attending an arts school was the fact that it was far from ordinary. The place was bustling with students chatting amongst each other, holding large portfolios, boxes of art supplies or cases for musical instruments such as guitars, violins, cellos et cetera. A sigh of contentment escaped my lips as I smiled, I was happy to be back and let another year begin.

Maybe I was beginning to regret ever thinking I liked morning classes. Waking up before seven am was proving to be a bit of a struggle. However, once I had gotten up and showered, followed by a cup of coffee, I was able to function and proceed to the main library. This term most of my classes were design and drawing, along with textile studies with a term project of piecing together a fifteen page portfolio along with designing garments. It definitely was quite a lot but I enjoyed the demanding work in which my major required. I chose my favourite seat in the library, by the back at the window in a corner surrounded my tall bookshelves and set out my drawing supplies, getting ready to spend the first hour of my morning before classes began practicing some sketches.

Most days I have lunch with two of my closest friends, one a music student and the other being a drama and theatre arts student. We would happily chatter away about various topics, complaining about our food choices which resulted in us just sharing each others food instead.

“Oh! There’s a sort of start-of-new-school-year gig at ‘The Venue’ on tonight, should be pretty fun,” Jae announced, picking up a piece of watermelon from my fruit box.

“Um, I suppose it could be fun, we haven't gone to any back to school event yet anyways,” I added, opening the cap off my water bottle and taking a sip.

“Then it’s decided, let’s go. We’ll meet up there at nine,” Jae explained, picking up his backpack and placing his notebooks inside the pocket.

“See you then, I’d better head to class now so I’ll see you later on,” I said, gathering my lunch’s rubbish and throwing it into the bin.

Deciding what to wear was always a challenging task, however with my different taste in fashion and devotion for it, I loved to spend ages matching different materials, colours and prints. Tonight I decided to pair an oversized plain white shirt with high waisted distressed black shorts which I got at a thrift store (I made them more my own by embroidering floral designs with brightly coloured thread) with floral printed heeled boots, accessorised with a plain black velvet choker and hooped earrings. I kept my makeup simple, only adding eyeliner and a small bit of glitter on my cheekbones. I grabbed my wallet, keys and phone, throwing them into my small bag before hurriedly making my way out of the apartments building and into the city. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as a wave of excitement hit me. I was looking forward to having a fun night out with my friends since I missed their company all summer long.

[ dowoon pov ]

“Thanks again Dowoon for lending me your spare drum kit, I was panicked we wouldn't get anything in time and this show is really important, I owe you one big time,” Sungjin explained, moving equipment onto the small stage in the bar near campus.

“You’re fine, honestly,” I said, helping him by carrying instruments onto the stage and placing them down in their specific spots.

“You should stick around for the show, even play a few songs in the warm up if you'd like, it'll be great,” Sungjin offered.

“I was actually going to just head home, but thanks,” I replied with a polite smile.

“Really? It’s your second last year here! You should be out having fun, please stay! Come on, let’s test out these instruments,” Sungjin elucidated, picking up a guitar. I laughed quietly before walking over to my drum kit. Shortly after we played a few songs, people started filing into the small bar. I stood up from the stool behind the drums before finding Sungjin and thanking him for letting me play a couple of songs.

“No problem Dowoon, anytime. Stick around for the show, I’ll chat to you later,” Sungjin quickly said, before disappearing behind the curtain by the stage.

I aimlessly walked over to the end of the bar where there were less people. Wonpil, another music student in the same year as me, saw me and came over, a big smile plastered onto his face.

“You’re here! I have some friends I would like to introduce to you! Come on, come on, they're over here,” Wonpil shouted over the loud music, pulling me by my right arm. Before I could respond and protest, he pulled me half way across the room before coming to a halt in from of three other people. The three people in front of me seemed merely familiar, but I could put no names to faces. After a brief introduction to everyone, Wonpil and the two other guys, Jae and YoungK, ran off and vanished into the dancing crowd of people.

“Hey, Dowoon, is it?” the girl who introduced herself as Y/N asked.

“Oh um, yes it’s Dowoon,” I stuttered, heat creeping to my cheeks instantly.

“It’s nice to meet you, I never see you out but I see Wonpil around and he has mentioned you a few times, it’s weird that we have been going to the same school for over two years and I have never even met you,” she said, a smile on her lips.

“Yeah, that’s strange,” I nervously laughed, attempting to hide my shy and timid demeanour with an easy going and confident facade, which was beginning to fail.

Her whole appearance was alluring, her effortless yet well put together ensemble absolutely stunning. She wore a natural bright smile which in turn caused her dark orbs to glisten. This stranger, who I knew nothing about, somehow caused me to fall into a trance where I was unable to form a sentence without stuttering and making a fool out of myself. She softly giggled at me and began asking me questions about me being a music major, thinking it was the most fascinating thing she had ever heard. This was something I instantly noted, she listened intently to what you had to say and paid utmost attention. I had never really liked anyone before and had never been in a serious enough relationship to know what it's like to be in love, but Y/N made me feel some way I had never felt before. The aura of confidence she radiated was enchanting and her soft, delicate voice was something I could listen to non stop and not get tired of.

"This band is amazing, I hope they play more gigs in the future," Y/N commented, holding a drink in her left hand. I worried about the way I even stood around her, did I look uncomfortable? Did I look awkward? I didn't want her to think I was this unconfident, shy person - which I may be, but she didn't have to know that.

"Oh, they're really good. Sometimes I fill in when the drummer can't make gigs," I added.

"Seriously? That's amazing! You play drums? I've never met a drummer before," she smiled, placing her now empty glass behind her on the bars counter.

"Yeah, I've been playing for years now, it's the reason I study music I suppose," I admitted, running a hand through my hair to brush it out of the way.

I learned that she was a fashion major which explained her unique and different style.

After we had spoken for a while, Y/N picked up my hand in hers and tried to pull me away from the corner we were currently stood in.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” I apprehensively muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.

"We're gonna dance," she matter of factly stated, tightening her grip onto my hand attempting to make me move. However, my strength was advantageous - I could remain stood still, refusing to move.

"What's wrong? Why won't you dance with me?" she said, a tiny hint of sadness evident in her voice.

"It's not you, I really can't dance, like it's terrible," I replied, holding her hand back to reassure her it had nothing to do with her. I would've loved to have danced with Y/N, if it weren't for my horrifically bad and clumsy looking dancing skills.

She tried to stifle a laugh before covering her mouth with her hand.

"You'll regret it, don't worry, nobody's watching! Come on, dance with me!" She cheerfully said. Her soft voice distracted me, causing myself to forget I was supposed to be holding myself still but her tight grip on my arms defeated me, causing me to slightly stumble as she tugged me closer and closer to the dance floor.

"Come on Dowoon, dance like nobody's watching, no one here cares! They're only here to have a good time so let go and let's have some fun!" she hollered before holding my left arm up high in the air and spinning herself around underneath my arm.

“Live in the moment! Have fun and feel good! Come on, don't hide,” Y/N continued to call, swaying about to the loud, thumping music.

I could feel the bass and drums of the band underneath my feet and pounding my chest. Y/N held our hands together, twisting back and forth, her long hair swishing around and a beautiful smile prominent on her face.

Before I even realised what I was doing, my feet moved and I began to dance, causing Y/N to smile and laugh, something I wish I could see forever.

In those beautiful few moments, I didn't care who saw me, I did not care if people laughed and pointed at my horrendous dancing, people’s opinions of me and the self consciousness that had previously consumed my mind seemed futile now. All that mattered was that I not only learned to have a bit of fun but I got to spend an evening with the most different and ethereal person I had ever had the priviledge to encounter. I could not describe the happiness that engulfed me that night - I learned to let go and dance.

[ m a s t e r p o s t ]

[ now accepting request submissions !! ] 

[creativphan]

Age of Miracles Chapter 6

summary: it's back to school season bitches, witches, and all of my switches. (watch these summaries fall apart with me lmao)

School started August 20th. We were eighth graders. For the first time in my life my mom was no longer a teacher at my school and wasn’t even awake for my first day. I got ready alone on a dark morning. People hugged a little bit tighter on the first day back. A girl named Meghan passed around birthday invitations and somehow invited me too. Teacher’s introduced new lesson plans that would accommodate The Slowing. We were going to learn about the science of growing food and the new greenhouses that were starting to pop up everywhere. We each took home a pack of seeds. 

It was dark after school but Phil and I walked home. The party was the only thing on his mind as he walked, however. It was supposed to be a chill party, her parents were gonna be gone, and it was going to have high schoolers. He wouldn’t shut up about it next Friday. 

I got home to find my mom active and moving around the house more than usual. She was doing an inventory of sorts on the first aid supplies under the stairs. She asked about school and gossiped about the teachers. It was weird having her gone from my school for once, she didn’t even know my science teacher who was new this year. I figured I should bring up the party but it never came out, instead, I smiled and nodded through her talking and tried to enjoy a rare moment of her being herself. I’m sure she noticed but she never showed it.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight!” She proudly exclaimed. “Does Phil wanna come over?”

I shook my head. He would be with Hannah tonight.

She smiled anyway. 

“Would you prefer hamburgers or tacos tonight?”

I just went upstairs. My room was dark all the time. My blackout curtains just stayed closed. My laptop screen was dark from inactivity. The whole room was shadows. I sat on my bed. I felt the darkness creep up from the room and into me. I felt so incredibly alone. I had never had many friends but I had always had Sam, Killian, and mostly Phil. Slowly I was losing Phil to whatever he was trying to fulfill within himself. I would have taken being punched in my chest by him again over feeling this gut-wrenching loneliness. People always talked about the effects of The Slowing on the mind but they only ever talked about the physical deficiencies of Vitamin D or sleep but never on the darkness it crept in your mind and you wonder how long we could live like this.

I ate with my mom that night. Dad never came home. I got a text from Phil later that he was no longer a virgin. I sat on my bed until the sun rose at three in the morning. I started crying so hard I couldn’t breathe and decided I was never going to let myself be so alone again.

My mom had good days for those whole weeks. We bought a greenhouse of our own to build in the backyard so we could plant a few things for ourselves. She built it mostly alone with my dad stepping in occasionally when he wasn’t too tired. There was still no progress on the magic wheat. Our days were at 47 hours. 

I always planned to mention the party. However, I couldn’t risk my parents being overprotective. It would just be easier to lie and say I’m going over to Phil’s. So I did and on the night of September first, I left saying I was going down the road to sleep over. 

Phil thankfully walked into the party with me. He was right about it all. Despite the glitzy invitations handed out in classrooms, it was nothing like the parties I had been to. It made sense why I had been invited though because the entire house was filled with people. It was probably everyone Meghan had ever met. The whole house had music blasting through it and people chatting. 

“Beer is in the kitchen!” Someone directed us that way.

A magical thing about The Slowing was the effect it had on the police force. White nights became high times for crime so cops began busting parties less and less to focus on the murders in break-ins over in the bad side of town. 

Somehow a beer bottle ended up in my hand but when I look over Phil was gone. I started looking for him. The pretty-enough girl named Lauren who Phil had mentioned seemingly years ago that he was fond of came up to me all giggle.

“Hey, you’re Phil’s friend right?” She swayed a little bit as she talked. She was in the year above us and going to be a freshman. It was funny how she couldn’t keep her eyes straight.

“Yeah, I’m Dan” I tried to remember that I was here to have fun too but god where was Phil?

She started saying something but got distracted by a friend and ran away. People were everywhere and most of them sat at least 5 inches taller than me. It was almost funny how I came here to feel less alone and instead I had never felt lonelier in my life. I figured if I couldn’t find Phil I might as well find a bathroom to collect my thoughts in. The party mostly had high school rejects who figured any party could be lit if enough chill people showed so it was filled with Theater kids or B-Team soccer players. It wasn’t ideal but I asked one of the guys in a soccer shirt to point me to a bathroom and once I made it inside I locked the door. The music continued to pound through the door but the bathroom muffled the noise and left me alone inside of it while I looked in a mirror. Phil’s friend was my ride so I knew I would be stuck here until someone let me know that he was ready to go. I sat on the closed toilet lid with my head down waiting for some cue to let me know that things were going to be okay. It is funny how that works because suddenly a loud pounding on the door and a loud yet familiar voice hollered.

“Let me the fuck in”

It was from Phil. I stood up and opened the door. He was standing there looking pissed. 

“God, don’t you have any fun? You wanted to come and then I find out you’re hiding in the bathroom?” He walked in and slammed the door behind himself. I stood there shocked.

“I didn’t realize you were babysitting me considering you left me at the door”

His eyes narrowed and he put his head down against the counter, his beer that was in his hand sat dangerously close to the edge of the sink.

“You don’t understand just get the fuck out and let me be,” He said as he turned to me.

I looked at him but something wasn’t right. He was mad but he wasn’t mad at me, or maybe he was so I just left him resting there. 

I walked back into the party where girls sat up and down the stairs and tried to find another place that was quiet enough that I could be ignored. I eventually found a corner with a locked door that no one seemed to be trying to go in or out of so I settled in the corner. Time passed incredibly slowly and my phone battery died incredibly quickly. I waited around for something to happen yet again. This time Lauren came back up to me. Her hands were now just as shaky as her eyes but she could still talk fairly fine. 

“Why are you here?” She asked. It seemed bold but I didn’t want to lie.

“I thought it could be fun. It’s not my scene though”

She seemed to think on that a little bit and then with a little bit of vigor she gained from nowhere she leaned over and kissed me. I pulled back.

“Oh my god was that your first kiss?” She asked with almost fear in her voice.

“Hell no” I responded and with the little bit of vigor I had been given I went back in. Later she left when a friend pulled her off of me and said her ride was here to take her home. I figured the same and realized it had been hours since I had seen Phil and I had a lot to tell him.

It was funny because the kissing itself wasn’t great but the excitement in being able to tell Phil what I did was so much better, hopefully, he would be proud. A part of me wished my first kiss was special, but it was The Slowing, special moments happened at weird times in weird ways. 

After about fifteen minutes of searching the house, I realized I couldn’t find Phil. I figured he could have left without me so I started asking around if anyone had seen Hannah. People shrugged and said that they thought she had left hours ago. Somehow I made it back to the bathroom from earlier and lightly knocked on the door asking if Phil was inside.

“Yeah”

“Shit man, you good? We should probably go.” I told him from outside the door.

I heard the sink briefly run and the door clicks as it unlocked and I saw as the doorknob turned and revealed Phil behind it. His eyes were red and puffy and he looked like a disaster. 

“What the hell happened to you? How much did you drink?” I didn’t care if I sounded like a scolding mother because he looked straight out of a movie about people drinking too much. He pressed his lips a little bit and started crying.

“I barely fucking drank. Hannah broke up with me okay? She said I’m too young and immature for her.” His beer bottle sat half empty in the same spot halfway into the sink he had left it in before, so I believed him.

“Let’s just get back to yours so we can get some sleep okay?” I reached on the inside of the bathroom to turn off the light. 

“Oh shit shit shit shit!” He started panicking. “I told my mom that I was going to yours.” I paused. He looked down trying to figure out a plan.

“Can’t we just sneak back into your house? Your mom has been all sick anyway I doubt she’d hear us.”

I shook my head. “She’s been feeling good today” 

We stood in the doorway trying to make a plan. It was 3 in the morning on a white night and we would certainly get caught trying to sneak into either of our houses. Eventually, we figured out that we left the McAnderson’s house unlocked and we could crash there. It would only be a twenty-minute walk or so and it was late enough that even in daylight we shouldn’t get caught. We headed out.

Once we made it inside their door, past the overgrown grasses and foliage, and once we double checked no one was inside, we strolled inside and made it into the couch so we could finally sit and talk things out.

Phil seemed blank like all life had been taken out of him, it was odd realizing that for once I was the one who had enjoyed myself and was not bumming us out.

“What happened?” I asked. I figured he needed to talk about it.

“She basically met me at the door. Told me that this was her friend’s party and I couldn’t ruin it by being immature and oh also we’re breaking up because you suck.” He seemed bitter more than anything else.

I tried to smile and listen but something was off, girls had broken up with him before but he had never cried about it.

“Why did this hit you so hard man? She’s just a bitch. Was it-” I paused “the sex?”

He sort of laughed it off but then looked away to not get tears caught in his eyes.

“I’ve been a terrible friend Dan. I haven’t told you everything” he stated.

“Sure”

“My parents are just about done, Dan. They want to file a divorce but they don’t like talking about it. Hannah has divorced parents and she was so chill about it, she made me feel like it would be okay. She was older and made me feel like I fit in. She got me out of my own head when I needed it the most. The funny thing is I don’t even think I liked her, she was just someone who could save me for a bit” He paused while I nodded.

“Do you think The Slowing has something to do with all of this?” I asked out of genuine curiosity. I was forming my own theories about the slowing and what it does to people. How darkness and dead birds decay our minds while we have to reach for some greater purpose about the planet.

“Definitely. Mom and Dad never argued before it. Plus it made me think about myself you know? Our own mortality. How we can’t run or hide and it has the power to control every aspect of us. I’m scared we won’t have food one day and I’m scared we won't have anything to do except stand still and let this world kill us in a cruel slow death. The Slowing has aged us, Dan, we aren’t kids. We’re useless but standing older. We’ve survived fewer days and fewer nights but we had to grow up.”

And that was the start of it. Just the two of us sat on the couch talking about our world’s slow escape into death and why we believed it happened. The gap that had started to grow between us was destroyed as we got personal and asked about dreams and aspirations. He was right, we were older than we should have been. Eventually, I snuck in the circumstance that happened with Lauren that night and Phil paused clean in his tracks.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I don’t know.” It seemed silly to lie to him there and hide a lie behind our moments of honesty. I no longer wanted Phil to be proud of me I sort of just wanted to get it off my chest. 

“I don’t know if I enjoy kissing either. It seems like the hype is pretty silly don’t you think?” He said. With those words, I felt validated beyond what I had ever felt. Maybe it wasn’t just me in my innocence and inexperience.  

We stayed up till ten in the morning and didn’t go home until we both felt better. I felt a little less alone.

Chapter 7