#my theory is that someone told him that they were giving out free ice cream along with the time bonuses

[someinstant]

But WHY was Pog in the sprint today?

Wrong answers only. Annnd... GO!

[eliecasa]

i need more gaz please im on my hands and knees begging

warnings: there is a little twerp included.

summary: gaz asked a lot of questions, but someone else wants to know something.

wrdcnt: 1.7K

Taking walks with Gaz is fun, he just likes to ask a thousand questions while you do so. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a new city or even the city where he was born, he’ll always have a pamphlet of questions ready to roll out for the entire trip.

“Why’d you choose this route?”

“I figured it was the scenic one, Gaz. You don’t like it?” you glance at him with a look of uncertainty that caused him to smirk a little bit.

“No, I like it.”

Sometimes it is a question of destination, or sometimes it’s not.

“Where are we headed again? I forgot what you told me.” he swings your hands in between your bodies as you side-eye him, giving him a quizzical look. “Babe, you said you had a doctor's appointment.”

His lips pucker as he stares at the pavement, appearing to be deep in thought before a childish grin spreads across his face. You nudge him and he instantly swivels to you and laughed loudly. “Ohhh, that’s right! Yea, I said that to get you out of the house.” He doesn’t even see the way that you slightly recoil in shock. Gaz had a very small tendency to tell white lies for good intentions but man, he was really good at being a liar. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to get a sandwich.”

The tiny amount of anger that was blooming within your nerves seemed to instantly disappear when you notice the way he softly gazed down at you like you were the most beautiful phenomenon he’s ever seen. The moment lasts until you’re shyly scoffing and looking away from him with itchy cheeks.

“I want flatbread, you’re paying.”

And other times, he asks questions that he knows may bother you but, it’s all out of love.

You allow him to settle a small banquet of Rabelera flowers into your palm. He may have just ripped these off of a stranger's bush but it doesn’t matter either way. The dorkish gesture is enough to make you sheepishly wave him off. “You’re an idiot, Kyle.”

He speaks faster than you can blink. “What makes you think you aren’t one?”

His reflexes prompt him to throw his hands up as you swivel at him. The icy glare that he receives almost makes him worry about the possibility of you throwing those flowers down and stomping on them in a tantrum but you don’t. “I guess it takes one to know one.”

The two of you have a stare down until one of his thumbs flips up to give carefully you a sign of truce. “That’s fair.”

“As I thought.”

Sometimes it’s just out of boredom.

“Do you think pilgrims participated in money laundering?” his free hand finds yours once he received his ice cream cone. The two of you are quick to fall in motion with the busy people around you, heading to a park that’s not too far down the way. You were at first admiring the multicolored cone in your hand until his question caused you to flutter. “How the hell would they launder money when they were living like peasants?”

He tilts his head at you. “Not all of them were peasants.”

“Okay, sure, but how would they launder money?” Gaz wraps an arm around you, keeping you close so that you couldn’t get lost in the crowd even though he was already holding your hand. “Let's say this…” his hands spread in a motion that tells you that he was definitely mapping out the vision in his head. “They meet up, they have their torches, pitchforks, and little baggies of coins.”

You raise a hand and shake your head. “They didn’t have coins yet.” Gaz recoils at the sass in your tone just to reel himself back in and debunk that theory. “Bullshit, Babe. They had like gold, copper, and brass. You failed history, remember?”

A punch is thrown to the side of his ribcage. “Whatever. Go on…”

He gave you a conceited nod and took a swipe from his ice cream before continuing. “So, let's say they have their coins and they melt them right?”

You nod and hang on to every silly word that he speaks. “They make new and better coins from it and sell them to the gullible rich. Sounds like a million dollar plan doesn’t it?”

For a moment, you entertain the thought and go through a couple of scenarios until your mind settled on the fact that it would’ve turned into something similar to the Salem witch trials.

“Yea, that totally would have happened without mass murder.” he chuckles at the sarcasm in your voice before shrugging. “Not everything gets documented.”

“Surely the death of me will.”

The two of you linger, staring at the river that you walk past until he turns to see a dramatic glare on your face. It doesn’t take two seconds for him to genuinely start smiling at you.

“Aww don't be a sourpuss.” his cold lips come to kiss your equally icy cheek. “It was a good theory, no?”

But nowadays, it’s mostly because someone else is asking the questions.

This time, you’re walking through the zoo with a map in your hand and a stuffed Seal in the other. Gaz walks a little ahead of you, keeping up with the pace of the guide as you follow behind. Children run through and past you but the chaos doesn’t bother you too much.

“You keeping up?” Gaz called, slowing his pace only a little bit to make sure you were all well. He receives a thumbs up back as your mind remains too curious for you to speak. You’d just passed a family of Macaques and the realization of your guide passing them without a single glance made you want to stay and study them for yourself.

But before you’re able to get lost in your curious mind, your husband grabs your hand and tilts his head in the direction your guide had walked off to. “Come on, I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“What's wrong?”

He shakes his head, instantly dismissing your worry. “You’ll see it, we’re not far from it.” of course, the walk lasts no more than 30 seconds, coming to a stop in front of the habitat of cute little red pandas running around and tackling each other. “Where’s the guide?” you try not to panic whilst looking for the person in question but Gaz is quick to calm you by pulling your figure into his.

“Don’t worry, Johns got a grip of him.” your jaw clenches but you do your best to appear relaxed as you nod and turn back to the small little animals in their habitat. His mind keeps calling your worried face extremely cute but he bites the urge to say it and instead gestures to the red panda sitting in a tree.

“You know why these things are adorable?”

You sense a lesson and inch closer to the glass to fully get a good look at the panda in question. “They’re small, fast, funny, and cool.” A small laugh comes from your mouth as he reads off of a mental checklist. “Oh yea, why else are these little red pandas so awesome?”

Surprisingly, he legitimately appears to be caught in a loop as the gears and wires in his mind twist and turn in an effort of completing whatever mission he’d created for himself. “Uh oh, seems like I messed up your delivery.”

“No, no, it’s just that I was… thinking about how much of a good friend a red panda would be.”

Now, he confused you.

You raise a suspicious brow at him and took a small step backward so that you could fully scrutinize him. “Gaz, what are you up to?”

He stares for a moment before meekly shrugging due to his physical inability to lie to you anymore. It is a dead giveaway that causes you to swivel and once again look around for the guide that left you and Kyle behind. And of course, there he is with John following closely.

Somehow, both of them look roughed up. “Did you guys wrestle with the silverbacks or what?” you inquired, watching as the guide hurriedly bee-lined to Gaz to whisper something to him. John laughs at the sight of you turning around with a playful glare on your face.

“Ahem…”

Both Gaz and the guide freeze in place before they both comically turn toward you. “Kyle, you got something you want to say?”

The older Kyle raises his hands as a way to claim innocence as your eyes drift down to the mini version of him. The guide, your very own son, KJ, didn’t move an inch as if he was working to become invisible. “Time to fess up… what’s going on?”

The child deflates and breaks out into a fit of guilty giggles as he threw himself onto your leg. His round little cheek presses against your leg as he awes at you with those same eyes that his father had. “It’d be so cool if we got a panda!”

“You gonna wipe its butt?” you dare.

The child recoils for a moment before furiously shaking his head. “No… it can take baths when I do.” His bottom lip juts out and he began to rock a little against your leg as a self-soothing method. The little guy definitely knew that he couldn’t take a panda home but it was worth a shot.

Your expression softens and your silver banded hand came down to settle on his head. “How about I get you a bunch of stuffed pandas as practice and then we’ll see if uncle price wants to buy us a real one?”

“Really?!” the child almost jumped out of his rain boots at the offer and instantly darted toward John. Gaz had an overly proud smile on his face as he gazed at you, all the while John was doing his best to calm the boy bouncing around him in a circle. You were smiling at the chaos like a pyromaniac until Gaz’s hand grabs yours. Even though you’ve been together for so long, you can’t help but get shy at the way he was looking at you.

That soft gaze on his face was full of nothing but love and you could feel it.

“Who’s gonna buy those stuffed animals you promised, huh?” he asks, pecking your lips for a moment before lacing your hands together. There he goes again, asking you another question as he always did. But this one, you actually had a good answer to.

“I’m sure his father wouldn’t mind.”

[raziroo]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Ch 4

Previous | Next

E chapter 4 is here. This one is longer than the previous chapter I think anyway enjoy this chapter!

Then Nino whispered to Alya "Do you think she likes Luka again?"

"I..don't know, but I'm gonna find out one way or another"

————————————————————

The trip went smoothly. Surprisingly, Lila hadn't done anything at all. Maybe she admitted to what she had done. Her loyal 'minions' had avoided her slightly today but Marinette knew they would come crawling back to Lila tomorrow, as if this never happened. Though, Marinette was grateful to have Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side. And Marinette was also surprised at how Chloe came to her defense, kinda. When the bluenette was getting her bag from her locker, she overheard Chloe confronting Lila.

"You were the cause of Marinette's late appearance weren't you? Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! The only one allowed to mess with Dupain-Chen's is me, got that?" The blonde said. "If I ever find you bullying her in anyway I'll have you expelled!"

Marinette was thankful that Chloe had come in her defense, in her own way. Marinette was about to catch up to her friends, who were getting closer to the exit, when she felt a vibration from her phone in her pocket. She took her phone and saw a message from 'Uncle Jagged'. She opened it and read it.

Uncle Jagged: Hey Nettie! Sorry about the late notice but I've been called for an interview. We'll need to reschedule

Marinette began typing

Marinette: It's no problem Uncle Jagged! I'll be free for more less the rest of the week

Uncle Jagged: Yeah I'm free tomoz, you can drop by then

Marinette: Kk

Marinette but her phone away. 'I can spend more time with Damian' she thought with a smile on her face.

"Hey Marinette! You free later?" The voice of her best friend echoed in the near empty school. "We were planning on going to Adrien's later, his father finally allowed us to come over!"

"I'm afraid I can't" Marinette said, feeling a bit guilty. "I'm busy, actually-" she glanced at her phone for the time "I gotta go! See you guys later maybe!" Marinette then ran out the building.

"Oh that's...fine" Alya said while her best friend ran by. "I wonder what's so important that she passed up going to Adrien's"

"You guys sure you don't wanna join me in the car?" Adrien asked.

"It's fine dude! Alya and I can walk"

"If you say so" Adrien answered, unconvinced. As he got into the car, he used this silence so that he could here his own thought clearly. 'I...I think I like Marinette, no I'll admit it. I know I like Marinette but does she like me back?'

~~~

Alya and Nino were walking down the street together, hand in hand, before Nino started a conversation. "Do you think Marinette has stopped crushing on Adrien?"

Alya shook her head vigorously "There's no way! She has nearly every photo of him in existence and she memorized the boy's schedule boy heart don't forget!"

"But then how do you explain how she was acting earlier?" Nino stated, firmly believing his own theory. "She didn't trip on her words at all! Even when she was tired she would always stammer while talking to him"

Alya then thought about what her boyfriend was saying. "You're right! And to think Adrien just started showing signs of liking her". Alya sighed in sympathy for the blonde boy. "Do you think she likes Luka again?"

"Who else could it be?" Nino asked but didn't wait for his (rhetorical) question to be answered as they reached the gate to Adrien's house.

~~~

Marinette rushed home to change and to drop her designs in her room. She's gotten a lot better at designing and making her designs, so much better that everything she would where would be her original designs and she was proud of it. She quickly got changed into a light cream top with long sleeves, the cream top was so light in colour that it could basically be passed off as white. She also had a pair of jet-black leggings to match. "What do you think Tikki?"

"You look great Marinette!" The kwami yawned.

Happy with her outfit, she grabbed her sketched book, put it in her bag, grabbed her shoes and ran downstairs. "I'm going to a friend's place, I'll probably be back in the evening. Bye Maman! Papa!"

"Bye Marinette!" Sabine shouted, luckily Marinette's parents were too busy working on a cake to notice how Marinette was dressed purposefully to impress. Marinette also noticed how Tikki looked tired so she tried not to run so the little kwami could get some sleep.

She soon arrived at Le Grand Paris. She felt very out of place as the doors opened for her but she walked without fear to the reception. 'Here we go'.

"Yes Miss, how may I help you?" The female receptionist asked.

"Hi, um I'm here to go to Mr Damian's room"

The receptionist nodded "Alright just give me one minute" she seemed to brace herself to call the room's phone which Marinette didn't understand. True Damian isn't that great with expressing his emotions but he wasn't that bad. Well, not to her at least. She blushed slightly at this realisation "Sir? There's someone here to see you"

"Ask for their name" a voice from the telephone said.

"Excuse me miss what's your name?"

"Marinette" the bluenette said.

"She says her name is Marinette, sir" the receptionist said with a slightly shaky voice.

"She may come in" the voice from the telephone rang.

The receptionist put the phone down and told Marinette the floor and room number. Though she already knew the room number, she didn't know what floor he was on so the information was useful. Marinette then walked to the lift and pressed the button that would lead her to the floor Damian was on. When she reached the door she had to breathe in a little before knocking on it. Surprisingly it opened right away, by Damian of course.

"Hi again, Damian" Marinette said switching to English. When she opened her eyes she saw that Damian was examining her. 'Did I put something on that didn't match? No it can't that' Marinette then blushed a little. Though she didn't even know the guy for a full day, her crush for him had blossomed, tremendously.

Damian glanced at Marinette's outfit, it complimented her personality and physique perfectly. He then realised he might had been staring for some time now and shook his head to snap out of the trance. "Yes, hello again. Please, come in" and he opened the doors for her. Damian watched as she looked around the suite, examining her surroundings, while Damian went back to examining, well, Marinette.

"Wow, You got one of the big suites" Marinette said, her eyes outshining anything bright in the room.

"Yeah" Damian mumbled and he could tell that the girl seemed pretty self conscious about her outfit. 'Because of me staring no doubt'. So to cheer her up, he said "You look lovely by the way"

The girl's face turned into a bright red. "You really think so?"

Damian nodded. "That hair clip suits you. If you're top was pure white, I would've been convinced that you were an angel, not that you aren't one already" Damian thought of something. "Actually, Angel is not a bad nickname for you. Is it ok if I refer to you as that from now on?"

Marinette was consumed by happiness. "Thanks for complimenting my outfit at being able to pick out all the little details" On her face was now a look of pure love and joy. "And since you'll be calling me 'Angel', I think it's only fair if I call you 'Shaytan' from now on" This made Damian laugh.

"Courtesy of my brothers no doubt" Earlier, Damian had told her that his brothers usually called him 'Demon Spawn' and she laughed, not seeing why they call him that. He knew that Marinette was aware of his 'ice-cold' personality but she never judged him for it. "And is it ok if we watch this Jagged Stone interview? My brothers and I are quite big fans, Tim and Jason are even bigger fans for MDC. Full out fanboys"

Marinette giggled, "Sure I don't mind! I'm a fan of Jagged Stone too". Damian then went to turn the TV on while Marinette wen to out her bag somewhere, but she kept her phone with her. She then sat next to Damian on the sofa, leaving about a pencil's width between them. Damian was fine with this, actually, he would be fine if Marinette full on hugged him with sitting there. He didn't mind.

Then, Nadja Chamack's voice echoed in the more or less quiet hotel room. "So Jagged Stone, many of the viewers, myself included, Have been all wondering the same question: Who is this MDC?"

Jagged Stone chuckled. "Well I'm not going to reveal her name yet but I can tell you, she is honorary my niece."

"Interesting, very interesting" Nadja said. "Is it possible if we could have an interview with her?"

"If she's willing to pick up her phone then sure" Jagged chuckled again while reaching for his phone and dialing a number.

Then Marinette's phone rang. Damian did get a bit suspicious at first but didn't want to invade her privacy. That was until Marinette's voice echoed through the TV's speakers.

"Hi Uncle Jagged!"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster

[drabbles-mc]

Protective Detail (4/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, blood, guns, mild injuries, Nestor being a goddamn thirst trap

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This chapter is a liiiiittle longer than the others have been but hopefully that’s not a problem. Did I do a deep-dive on Gino Vento’s google photos to be able to know what his body art situation is?? You betcha. Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @sillygoose6969​ @mydaiilyescape​ @lovebennycolon​ @the-radical-venus​ @gemini0410​ @garbinge​ @slutformayansmc​ @paintballkid711​ (as always, if you want to be on my taglists feel free to let me know!)

Despite the fact that the only thing on your agenda for the day was going to the grocery store, you still came into the kitchen in the morning to see Nestor sipping coffee in yet another button-down shirt and pair of slacks. You wondered for a moment if the man even owned just a pair of casual blue jeans.

“I don’t know where the Galindos shop,” you said with a laugh as you poured a cup of coffee, “But the grocery store I go to doesn’t have a dress code. I thought you knew that.”

He shook his head but you could see the smirk pulling at his lips, “This is just how I dress, Y/N.”

He didn’t use your name often, but each time he did you felt your entire body turn into jello for a few moments before you regained composure again. You took your time getting ready, loving that you didn’t feel rushed or like you were on a schedule. You told Nestor that he could drive, pretending that you just wanted the extra space in his car for shopping purposes. But you were also testing a theory that if you let Nestor have his way more often, he would let you know a little more about who he was as a person. Plus, you had to admit, you didn’t really mind his driving too much. Even if he did drive without the radio on.

Having Nestor with you while you grocery shopped was nice because you got to leave him in charge of pushing the cart while you perused the aisles and picked things out to eat for the next few days. You’d shove produce in his face and ask him if he thought it was fresh, and he would begrudgingly help you out, rolling his eyes at how terrible you were at telling if cantaloups were ripe.

The two of you were walking down the cereal aisle and he was shaking his head at you while fighting back a smile, “You’re like a child with access to a credit card.”

“Listen, Nestor,” you stood on your tip-toes to try and reach towards the back of the top shelf, “Coco Puffs have no age limit.”

He reached over you with ease and grabbed the last box from the back of the shelf and placed it in the cart, not saying a word as he continued pushing onward. You smiled to yourself for a few moments before snapping back to reality and speed-walking a few steps to catch up with him.

He was helping you bag items at the self-checkout and if you were honest with yourself, every now and then you would forget that he was with you to keep you from getting shot or kidnapped. Sometimes you even felt like friends, as much as someone like Nestor would let a person be friends with him.

Once you were out on the road and heading home, you looked over at Nestor with puppy-dog eyes, “Can we stop at Starbucks?”

He looked at you, shaking his head the second he saw the way you were looking at him, “The lines are always ridiculous. The ice cream will melt.”

You sighed, knowing that puppy-dog eyes most likely weren’t going to work on him but it was worth a shot anyway. You leaned back in your seat and scrolled on your phone, wanting desperately to play music to break up the silence.

Nestor passed the street that you normally turned off to get home. You looked over at him and saw how tense his body was. You sat upright, putting your phone back in your purse, “What?”

He nodded towards the rearview mirror, “Car’s been following us since we left the store.”

Your stomach knotted and you tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t help to calm you down at all. You instinctively reached for the glove compartment like it was your own car, and you were expecting Nestor to stop you, but instead he reached and opened it for you, not having to take his eyes off the road to dig around and get the gun out for you.

“You shouldn’t need to use it,” he placed the weapon in your hand and his lingered for a moment, “But just in case.”

He did his best to stay on busier roads, hoping it would be a deterrent, and also hopefully make it easier to lose whoever it was that was tailing them. You felt your heart pounding inside your chest—you had been hoping that your father had dealt with everything and that Nestor really was just an unnecessary precaution, but that wasn’t the case.

Somewhere along the way, the road went dead. Nestor was white-knuckled on the steering wheel and you were trying not to let your hands shake. He had been steadily increasing your speed, but even so the car had kept up and pulled up alongside you. You tried to get a good look at the people who were inside, but before you could, Nestor slammed on the gas and tried to speed ahead of them in one last burst to lose them.

Before he could successfully get in front of them, they swerved and hit the back driver’s side corner of the car. With the speed that Nestor had picked up they hit you hard enough to send the car spinning. By some miracle the vehicle didn’t roll, but you swerved off the road and slammed into an embankment, trashing the front of the car and pinning Nestor’s side. Even if he wanted to open his door and get out, he couldn’t. It all happened so fast, you don’t think you would’ve been able to explain exactly how the two of you ended up in that position even if someone tried to pay you to.

The other car pulled up, opening their passenger door. You had already undone your seatbelt and you instinctively shot the gun in your hand, busting the glass window. You fired off a second bullet and got the man who was coming towards you in the leg, causing him to drop. You were getting ready to fire off a third shot when a third man jumped out of the car and dragged him back throwing him in the back seat, the only sound in the air was a slew of curses of the man who was bleeding. You froze up, unable to take an easy shot that would take someone’s life.

“Just fucking go!” the man yelled as he barely got his accomplice into the back seat.

The car started peeling away before the back door was even completely shut. Clearly, they hadn’t been planning on you being armed at all, let alone ready to shoot. You took a shaky breath as you put the safety back on the gun. You turned to Nestor, who had a harsh burn along his neck from his seatbelt, as well as a cut and a welt on the side of his forehead from where his head slammed against the window while you were spinning out. You unclicked his seatbelt and gently tried to wake him without shaking him, not knowing how hard he had slammed his head.

“Nestor?”

He groaned in response, “Fuck.”

“Oh thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“How many?”

“At least three,” you gently and slowly turned his head, trying to get a better idea of his injuries. You had a feeling that it was nothing serious—he was just going to be bruised and sore for a few days. His side of the car got slammed pretty bad when you went off the road. You pressed your lips together for a moment, “Still got feeling in all your limbs?”

He laughed, although it was weighted with sarcasm, leaning back against the headrest, “Yea.”

“Good,” you sighed, letting your body sink back into your seat as well, “All things considered, this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

He looked over at you, “Looks like we’ll be using your car for a few days.”

You slowly shook your head, “The ice cream is definitely gonna melt.”

His next laugh was genuine, despite the pain he was in, “You have the worst priorities in the world.”

“Hey, I checked to see if you were alive, didn’t I?”

After a few phone calls made to your father and some of his connections, you had a tow-truck and a temporary replacement car there in no time. It was convenient, the only thing you weren’t thrilled about was the fact that your father was the one who delivered it.

“What happened?” he ran to you and wrapped you in a hug

“They followed us out of the grocery store,” you said, taking a slight step back when he finally released you from his embrace, “Nestor noticed right away. They never saw my house.”

He nodded, “That’s good at least,” he held you gently by your upper arms, “How are you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, “Neck is sore from getting spun out, but I’m alright. I should probably get Nestor home so I can get his cuts cleaned up.”

“You have things to take care of him?”

You nodded, “Yea of course.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shook your head, “No, I think we’ll be okay. I just wanna get home.”

He nodded understandingly, “Okay. I love you, mija, you know that right?”

You smiled, “I know. I love you too,” you hugged him, “I’ll talk to you later and give you a full download of the situation, alright?”

“Alright. Please, drive safe.”

“I will,” you kissed his cheek, “Te quiero.”

“Te quiero,” he walked over and shook Nestor’s hand, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

He nodded, feeling like there wasn’t much to thank him for in this situation, “Your daughter is a very capable woman.”

“She is,” with a final nod and one last look over at you, your father went back to his own car and took off.

You and Nestor waited for the tow truck to finish loading the SUV before finally piling into the car your father had brought for you. It was pretty reminiscent of Nestor’s SUV and you knew that was probably by design. In the back of your mind you knew your father probably wanted it to be your car so he could finally give you what he considered to be a real car. Truthfully you hated driving bigger vehicles, but you weren’t about to hand the keys over to Nestor.

“I’m sorry,” he said one you were both in the car.

“What’re you sorry for?” you asked as you buckled in.

“It never should’ve come to that, to you having to use my gun.”

You shook your head, “Don’t do that. You were unconscious. Not even you are cool enough to be able to pull that off while knocked out. Thanks to you, I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. So don’t beat yourself up,” you waited for him to meet your eyes, “Self-pity is the only thing that doesn’t look good on you, so knock it off,” you offered a small smile as you started the car.

He smiled as he settled into his seat but he didn’t say anything. The drive passed in silence, and for once you weren’t itching to turn the radio on. Part of you wanted to reach over and cover Nestor’s hand with your own, but you fought the urge. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open the whole ride home.

Once you started getting what was left of the groceries out of the car, Nestor asked for the house keys so he could do a check. You told him not to bother, that there would be no way a second threat would be lurking in your house after what just happened, but he insisted. It wasn’t a battle you were going to pick, so you handed over the keys.

The house was quiet, and you didn’t make any comment on it as you started unpacking the groceries. Nestor was sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and the look on his face made your heart feel heavy. You texted your father, asking for one small, very ridiculous favor, hoping that he would grant it to you.

Once all of the groceries were put away, you went and grabbed your first aid kit from the bathroom and sat down next to Nestor on the couch. This time, he didn’t look annoyed about the closeness you shared.

“C’mere,” you motioned for him to lean closer to you so you could start wiping and cleaning out the cut on his forehead. Neither of you said anything while you tended to him. He cringed slightly when you used the alcohol, but he remained silent. You told him that after he showered you would put a bandage on it just as a precaution, but the gash wasn’t really that deep. It was more to make you feel better about it. You wiped down the burn across his neck with an anti-bacterial rub, but there wasn’t a whole lot else that you could do for it.

“How’s your side?” you nodded to his side that got slammed into the door of the car when you hit the embankment.

“It’s fine,” he wasn’t looking at you.

“Can I see it?”

He stood up, ready to go shower and wash the day away, “I said it’s fine.”

“Well if it’s fine then there’s no reason not to let me see,” you weren’t yelling but it was a firm tone that you hadn’t used with him before.

He sighed, not having the energy to put up a fight. He untucked and un-buttoned his shirt, pulling the one side out so that you could see his chest and ribcage. There were a few bruises starting to come in, but it didn’t look terrible. You tried to stay focused on the real reason you wanted to look at him, but you had to admit that you let your eyes linger a little longer than medically necessary. You hadn’t been expecting to see so much ink on his skin.

“Can I go shower now?”

You nodded, “Yea. Thank you.”

You didn’t have the energy to go and get changed, so instead you melted into the couch, pushing the first aid kit to the floor. You heard the shower turn on and then, for the first time, he put music on. Your eyes went wide, thinking for a moment that you must’ve hit your head at some point too and were hearing things. After a minute went by, you finally let yourself relax, not even wanting to turn the television on and risk drowning out the melodies drifting out of the bathroom. You didn’t know what kind of music you were expecting Nestor to listen to, but what he was playing was much more mellow than you thought it would be.

You were resting with your eyes closed when there was a light knock on the door. You got up, smiling because you knew what it was. You opened the front door, smiling at your father’s newest assistant who looked like he was only a couple weeks out of college. He stood there with a smile as he held out a brown paper bag to you.

“Your dad said you needed these?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, thank you so much,” he nodded and went to walk away when you caught his attention again, “Hey, I never caught your name.”

“Ricardo. You can call me Ricky.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Have a good night.”

You shut and locked the door and put the bag in the freezer, grinning over the fact that your father was still willing to indulge you in silly things like this even after all this time. You snapped back to reality when the sound of the shower and the music both shut off. The door creaked open and you fought the urge to peak into the hallway.

After a few minutes went by and Nestor didn’t reappear in the living room, you took it upon yourself to go to him. You grabbed the bag out of the freezer and two spoons before making your way down the hall.

You knocked lightly on the door, not used to it being shut. His voice was quiet on the other side, “Yea?”

You opened the door and fought to not let your jaw hit the floor. Nestor was lying on his bed, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. All you could think about, though, was the fact that he was lying there with no shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants. You truly couldn’t believe the number of tattoos that the man had. His chest, stomach, and arms were completely decked out in ink of all kinds. You hadn’t given much thought to him having tattoos—you saw the one on his neck and his hands but other than that it never really crossed your mind. Your quick glance earlier didn’t do his extensive body art justice.

And his hair wasn’t braided—his long, thick curls were thrown up into a messy bun on top of his head. You were certain that there would never be a better look for him than that. You wished it didn’t take such a rough day to get it out of him. You cleared your throat slightly, chastising yourself over how your mind instantly flew to some very unprofessional places.

“I come bearing gifts,” you said as you walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, “Well, gift. It’s just one.”

He opened one eye, smiling as you set the pint of ice cream and spoon on his nightstand, “Which of your father’s assistants had to drive that over?”

You laughed, “The new one, Ricky.”

He forced himself to sit upright, “Poor kid.”

He reached for the ice cream and your eyes were glued to his forearms, figuring it was the safest place for you to study as you digested all of the new ink that you were seeing. You were trying not to gawk but he was making it really difficult for you. You bit down lightly on your bottom lip, unable to force yourself to look away.

He noticed you staring and immediately became very aware of how he looked, “Fuck, sorry. Let me grab a shirt.”

You shook your head, “Stop. This is your home too for now. I don’t give a shit,” you laughed, “After today you can wear whatever you want,” you took a scoop of ice cream out of your pint, “Your hair looks good like that, by the way.”

He smiled, slowly pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged by his pillow, “Thanks. You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, “Hey, man-buns are in right now.”

He chuckled as he methodically scooped away a layer at a time. You pulled your feet up and sat the same way he was, the two of you facing each other. Neither of you said anything as you ate, and you soaked up the moment.

“Can I put a bandage on your cut?” you asked as you put the top back on your ice cream container.

“It’s really not that bad.”

“I know but it’ll make me feel better.”

He shrugged, nodding, “Sure.”

You gathered up your spoons and what was left of your ice cream and walked out of the room. You tossed the containers back into the freezer before going to grab the first aid kit off of your floor. After thinking about it for a moment, you made a pit-stop in your room and changed out of your clothes, opting for a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

By the time you walked back into his room, Nestor had put on a t-shirt moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs off so his feet hit the floor. You sat down next to him and looked at his forehead. You sifted through the different-sized bandages you had before you found one that was satisfactory. You leaned in, gently applying it to his forehead.

You rested your palm on the side of his face, lightly tracing your thumb over the bandage to make sure it was completely on. Nestor’s eyes were closed, and without thinking better of it, he leaned slightly into your touch and you froze, not wanting to give up the contact. You tried to relax your body, but you couldn’t.

A few seconds later he opened his eyes again, and realized what he was doing. He sat upright and cleared his throat, not sure what to say or do. You forced yourself to break the silence, “Need anything else?”

He shook his head, “No. Thank you. I know I’m here to keep you safe but you definitely saved my ass today.”

You chuckled, “And you can save my ass tomorrow,” your expression grew a little more serious, “But really, you good?”

He nodded, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” you rested your hand on his knee for a moment, “Goodnight, Nestor.”

You went to take your hand away as you stood when you felt his come to rest over it, completely enveloping it, “Goodnight,” he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You walked out of his room, shutting the door behind you. you turned off all the lights in the house before going to your room and collapsing onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened that day. You traced over the top of your hand where Nestor’s had been and, despite the day the two of you had had, you found yourself smiling.

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time-Ch 7

MASTERPOST

Marinette was the first one to arrive at the bakery, much to her relief that evening.

After warning her parents that she had friends coming to join her, the teen hurried up the stairs to prepare for the evening. Mullo and Plagg flew off, and Marinette paused in the kitchen to pull together a snack tray, before following the Kwamii up the stairs to her room.

She made sure that while it was hidden, the box was now closer to her reach. Then, she pulled up a word document that had been idling in her computer for the past few months. The document labeled Ways Gabriel Agreste has Abused His Son.

Pulling up her email, Marinette opened her thread from the emails with Tim. Since she had the time, she may as well respond to his email.

 From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

 Mr. Drake Wayne,

I can’t believe that I included Hawkmoth in that email! I must have been more tired than I thought. Hawkmoth has been terrorizing Paris since I was 12 years old. In the last four years, the man has possessed everyone from a toddler crying over a candy bar to a man grieving his wife’s death. My city has faced real-life myths and legends, as well as children who just wanted a nightlight. Hawkmoth will target anyone who has a negative emotion. Your ice cream dropped? You are an ice cream monster. You fail a test? Suddenly you are giving everyone passing grades. The worst part is, everyone who dies will be brought back, but the person who is possessed won’t remember anything. Many people have moved out of Paris, and most of the remaining citizens have taken up meditation and smaller forms of magic to protect themselves. Although the news won't admit it, our population had dropped quite a bit. Inside the city itself, there are about 1.9 million people now. Many have moved to areas nearby that have proved outside of Hawkmoth’s range. As far as we can tell he only strikes in the city proper. Before you ask, yes, someone is fighting him. Lady Tyche, Apate, and their new member Princess Meli will free the person of the possession and restore the city. They wield magical objects. It's theorized that Hawkmoth also wields a magical object and that’s why they’re the best suited to combat his creations.

It interests me, that you mention bringing this to Batman’s attention, but not the Justice League? Do you, by chance not trust them? I have heard that many people in Paris have called them for help, nothing has come of it, obviously. In my opinion, people don’t actually believe something is happening unless they experience it themselves. For the most part, people who come into Paris will hear rumors of Lady Tyche in passing, but since Princess Meli is new they haven’t heard of our other hero. To even most Parisians, Apate is a legend. To those who know her, she is a vigilante who will not hesitate to end a situation or clean up what the Lady and Princess won’t. Most of the time, however, she is known for following Lady Tyche’s lead. I’ve heard theories that it's because she is more violent and has a darker power than the other two. Once, I heard that she wants to protect the City of Lights, and won't use her powers unless necessary because of it. Some people think that when she uses her powers she spreads bad luck to the people nearby. On the other hand, many think that Lady Tyche leaves lingering good luck.

Sorry for the info dump, there is a lot going on in Paris right now.

Thank you for keeping an eye on Nona and Jason. Jason, as I am sure you know, can be impulsive. Nona isn’t much better. When he was here, Jason mentioned that you tend to be busy most of the time. He was surprised that you had responded so quickly as well, actually. I wanted to add that I am honored!

Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to pry too much, if Jason is willing to part with the information, I really would like to know about their tike together. Please do not force him though. I am sure there are other ways to know what is actually going on. I do have to ask, what do you mean by ‘good spar’? do you two spar together often? If so, I do hope Jason doesn’t hurt you too often. I know that he usually put his all into everything he does, and I know that he is quite the fighter when he wants to be.

The slander is the work of a jealous girl in my class. She is of no consequence in the long run. I was surprised to find out (through you!) that the Bruce W on my commission list was for your family. Actually, don’t tell the rest of your family, but it’s not just the suits. There are a few gowns in the mix as well. Your family butler, I believe his name is Alfred, is sending me a list of measurements in the next several days.

Jason and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. If you want, ask him how we met. He will have a more concise memory since he is five years older than me. The best I can say right now is that he was the person I relied on for many years before we got separated. Since then, I think we both have grown, but I can still see who he was when he was 12 underneath everything. As I said, Jason would be the one to ask for specifics. Maybe after you ask him about how he knows my Nona?

Have a good day,

Marinette Dupain Cheng

P.S. of course I put energy drinks in my coffee! Is there any other way? If you ever want one of my recipes, let me know! I have a whole collection at this point.

 After she had sent the email, Marinette glanced over her room again to make sure everything was ready for when her friends arrived.

As she was getting up to fidget with the pictures, Chloé burst through the trap door. Behind her, Aurore followed at a more sedated pace.

“Mari! Hi! What is this? And why is she here? I thought you two weren’t talking anymore, remember? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” Aurore raised an eyebrow at the other blonde before smiling at Marinette.

“your parents sent us up with some pastries. I think they were a little thrown off by Chloé and I arriving at the same time.” Here, the girl set the plate she had been holding that couldn’t be seen behind the more aggressive girl. “they mentioned about making sure to remind you that the past is past?” here, the two giggled as Chloé looked between them in confusion.

“Whatever!” she huffed, before flouncing over to Marinette’s chaise and settling herself there with a sniff. After the other two had stopped giggling, Marinette raised an eyebrow at Aurore in question. With a nod, the Ladybug holder turned to smile at Chloé.

“So, Chloé. We know that you and I are not exactly close, but there is something that Marinette and I wanted to bring you in on.” Here, she looked back at Marinette with a smile. Before she could continue, however, the heiress started to interrupt.

“if you two are-” Aurore’s phone started to ring, making the three pause as the girl turned to answer the call

“Mireille? Hey!” she turned and waved to Marinette, motioning her to continue with the conversation while she finished with her friend.

“No, Chloé. It’s more complicated.” Marinette leveled her friend with a look. “plus, if this was the same thing as two years ago, I would have told you earlier. You know that.” as Marinette soothed her friend, a small part of her brain reminded her that there was something that she hadn't told the girl. something that her friend would kill her for.

“Then what on earth is going on, Mari? You know it makes me nervous being out of the loop.” Marinette snorted pointedly at her friend.

“We weren’t trying to keep you out of the loop, C. it’s just…Aurore and I just realized what was going on. We wanted to make sure that we were making the right choice before going further. You have proven that we have.” Marinette paused, watching her friend. When the blonde still looked confused, the younger teen just smiled. “would Pollen like a bowl of honey?” Chloé bilked before laughing.

“Mari, dear. Who on earth is Pollen? Have you made a new friend I didn’t know about?” an indignant voice that Chloé was unfamiliar with responded.

“My Kitten hasn’t, but you have Buzz.” As Aurore finally got off the phone and turned back to the conversation, Chloé let out an ear-piercing shriek.

“OH MY GOD MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG NO FUCKING WAY!” then, Marinette was falling backward under the force of her best friend tackling her in a hug.

 After Chloé had calmed down, the three girls spent the next four hours talking. The first 15 minutes had been about how the original two had handled living a double life for four years. After that, the girls turned their attention to the document that Marinette had pulled up.

The rest of the time was spent overanalyzing the spending Habits of the top four people on Marinette’s suspect list.

 When asked why she had the list and not Aurore, the duo explained that many times while Lady Tyche was out patrolling and being a beacon of good luck, Apate would be behind the scenes. Many a night, office buildings would register a break-in before the figure would turn into literal shadows. The security guards who would be sent to investigate would be faced with a missing pane of glass that had suspiciously black edges on the frame. Most of the time, when Apate was ready to leave, if anyone was around, they would lose their senses for the time that it took for her to leave. After, they would think that had simply blinked before getting on with their life.

Using this method, the protectors of Paris were able to cross many off their lists. In the few times, they had entered private residences, the break-in would happen when the family was away.

 Of course, Marinette’s hacking skills had come into use, as she had taught Aurore the basics a few years back. Unknowingly, the two had set their alter egos up for success.

The duo had spent more nights than they could remember curled up on a rooftop, laptops booted up. They would spend hours at a time sitting there with paper strewn around them as they raced to hack in and access as many schedules and bank statements as they could. Although it was highly illegal, the two had spent almost as much time working on the internet crossroads to narrow their such as they had fighting Akumas.

 Chloé’s awe at the work the two had put in showed. When they asked her to help them continue to narrow down the list she agreed. When she saw the first document sitting open on Marinette’s computer, the shock on her face lasted all of ten seconds before the heiress was helping her teammates dig into the private life of one Gabriel Agreste.

 When Marinette had said goodbye to her friends, Aurore left to patrol and Chloé went home with the hope that she could access more sensitive information from her father's unlocked computer. When the other two had raised concerns about it, the teen had waved them off. Apparently, the mayor was much laxer on the security of his work computer than he should be.

 After climbing up to her room, Marinette closed down all of the programs that she didn’t need to leave running overnight. As she closed out most of her browser, the teen hesitated, before she clicked into her email. Sitting there, waiting for her was an email that had been received in the middle of her session with her friends.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

Miss Marinette,

I have to say, you know quite a bit about these heroes that have been fighting in Paris. I started looking up the topics that you mentioned but couldn’t find anything. After several attempts, I used a VPN to make it seem like I was in Paris. That made the entire thing open up like a wrapped present. I must say I am surprised that it hasn’t made its way out of Paris yet. Well, I was surprised, until I was reading through some tourist guides. It seems that the new phrase is what happens in Paris stays in Paris. That, and very thorough censorship on public media. How have you made it this long in that city, without losing it completely?

I was able to flag down Signal, who is known as the Daytime Bat, and passed along what you had sent me. I included my own research as well, so don’t be surprised if they go to investigate further in the near future. Well, I guess you wouldn’t hear of it, but if they show up, it is defiantly because they are concerned.

I wouldn’t say that the JL is not trustworthy, but I trust Batman’s Gotham team more. Maybe it is the familiarity that comes from being rescued frequently from hostage situations. I trust them, and they know that I won't give them information just for the hell of it.it doesn���t help that the JL tends to make a massive mess when they come through town. I would rather they stay far away from me, thank you very much.

So, it turns out that both you and Jason are very cryptic. I don’t know how much you know of the time between when Jason was 13 and his 16th birthday, but he said that he was with a friend of your mother’s? He said that you would know her as Aunt Talia and that your mother was always the more levelheaded of the two. This was…confusing for many reasons, one of which is that your Aunt is my little brother’s bio mom. Anyway, Jason said he was with your Aunt when he met Gina, in ‘this little place in Canada.’ He mentioned an island and a bay that sounded a lot like the Bay of Fundy. If you have any idea why your grandmother would be out there, then we can puzzle out how they met. As for how they got separated, I am afraid that this time it had something to do with a chef? Something about him chasing the two of them out of town with a cleaver? Apparently, this chef is another relation of yours. Marinette, I must be honest, you have quite a few deadly relatives. you aren’t going to come through the screen and slice my head off, will you?

This afternoon, I got a call from the police station, by the way. Apparently, Jason and Gina had been busting drug gangs in their free time and there was some incriminating evidence. I am not quite sure how they got into it, but they have been issued a warning by the local Bats. You may be seeing this chaotic duo again in Europe sooner than either of us would like if this keeps up.

As to the sparing question. Jason, as I believe you are aware by now, likes to keep fit in a variety of ways. Bruce made sure all the children under his roof could fight and protect themselves. This means that while Jason may be the biggest in the family, and I am considered the smallest, I can still beat him in an even spar if I put some work into it. For the most part, I prefer not to use the same tactics that Jason uses, and since he and I tend to train at the same time, we see each other but don’t usually go head to head. I have to say it was quite a rush to beat him earlier today.

Alfred mentioned something about housing a guest who would be making sure that the family was presentable for the Gala. That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it? If you do come to Gotham, may I show you around? I know that having an experienced guide in any city makes things much easier.

On that note, I am going to make the assumption the Bruce didn’t know who he was commissioned, so I will warn you that he may ask that you get a background check done. Up until this point, he has only communicated with you through lawyers about the press fiasco. he probably won’t make that connection for a while yet.

Have a good evening,

Tim DW

P.S., of course, I would like the recipes! Any that you send would be greatly appreciated! My family thinks that I rely too much on coffee and not on sleep. Do you have that problem much? It has gotten to the point that I have a few shops that I go to that the rest don’t know I like. It’s the only way to get the sweet nectar of coffee! What is the worst thing you have done to procure caffeine? I hope your family helps you more than mine does. They say that if they didn’t monitor my caffeine intake, they would be enablers.

 Marinette giggled at Tim’s frustration with her brother. It looked like the two of them were going to keep it a secret a while longer. Although, when she did go for the Gala, and the fittings the week before, it would only be a matter of time before the Waynes figured out the two were related. After all, the features of Willis Todd are hard to hide.

Still smiling, Marinette made a note to tell the others that Batman had been notified.

Glancing at the time, Marinette reached blindly for the cold cup sitting nearby. The grey cup that was covered in pink sparkles read ‘I can’t talk right now. Leave a message after the squeak!’ The cup was one that Marinette had made after she started to wield Mullo, the mouse Kwamii, more.

Mullo and Plagg had been instrumental to her while she had been investigating the many businesses of Paris. Since then, the teen had kept the mouse around as an alternate form of defending herself. While the public had not been introduced to Little Mouse, the quiet vigilante had done quite a bit of work for the City.

As Marinette sipped on her current super coffee, (cold brew, two shots of espresso, one pump of vanilla syrup, and a mocha monster. affectionately named Minnie Mouse) she made a list of her tasks for the night. If she could send off the sketches of what the Waynes wanted for their gala pieces, then she could do the basic list of things she would need to get at the fabric store the next day. After making her list, she could start on her design for her own dress. Glancing back up to her computer, Marinette froze. She had to email Tim back at some point as well.

As she was standing to retrieve her camera and sketchbook, Marinette’s personal email dinged. Glancing over, she realized it was an email from Tim. Again. With a frown, the teen opened the message. The email was in no way close to the formal communications the two had been trading.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

MARINETTE

I AM SO SORRY. WHEN THE WHOLE PRESS THING HAPPENED, WE ALL TALKED ABOUT IT AS A FAMILY. JASON WASN’T THERE AND I JUST FOUND OUT WHY. HE AND BRUCE WERE YELLING AND I WASN’T EAVESDROPPING BUT I HAD GONE TO TALK TO B AND HE HAD BEEN YELLI GAT JASON ABOUT SEEING A SISTER.

JASON WAS YELLING AND TOLD B TO SHOVE OFF BECAUSE AND I QUOTE-

“MARINETTE WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY FAMILY EMERGENCY AND IF VISITING HER WOULD GET HIM IN TROUBLE THAN HE WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH THE FAMILY.”

YOU

ARE

JASON’S

SISTER

HOLY SHIT

-tim

 Marinette’s brain came to a screeching halt as she read the email once, twice, three times before letting out a string of curses. Dammit, Jason.

She collected her thoughts and pulled up an open template to respond to the other teen

 From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Tim. Please tell me you have taken a deep breath and have had time to reflect since you send the last email.

Yes, Jason is my older brother. Well, half-brother. My mother died when I was young, and since she had been having an affair with Willis Todd (a horrible man, by the way.) she had put his name down on my birth certificate. Catherine definitely never liked me, but she put up with my presence. Multiple times, Jason and I would run away or end up on the streets because of the fighting that would happen in that house. One day, I ran when Jason wasn’t around and was caught by CPS. Up and away I was sent to France whit the couple who had found me when I ran away from CPS. Jason thought I was dead until that scandal broke almost two months ago. That’s why he vanished. He came here to visit me. This was the first time I have seen him in 10 years. Neither of us was exactly thinking clearly.

It doesn’t surprise me that your father knows that Jason and I are siblings. However, it also wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t make it very far down that path. Jason thought I was dead for years. I kept tabs on him, but that doesn’t mean he knew about that until he got over here.

I am going to respond to your last email as well.

Yes, the current plan is for me to arrive in Gotham. About a week before the Christmas Gala. That way, I’ll have time to do any last-minute fixes. I would love to have you show me around your city if that offer is still open. I haven’t been to Gotham since I was 6 years old, so I don’t remember much of the place.

-Marinette

Ps, I’ll send those recipes soon. I don’t think you want a super coffee tonight. 😊

 After hitting send, Marinette sighed. With luck, she could have her list done by dawn. What was one more super coffee, after all?

HIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!

ok ok ok ok

i have been really excited to post this one, and actually almost posted last night! Self control? don’t know her! 

this one i think is really important because Tim and Mari aren’t super formal in their talking anymore. also...who can guess what went down with Aurore and Mari???

Tag List

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[kalaluchi]

chapter 04: Best Friends

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When Marinette was a kid, she’d once heard someone say that having a boyfriend is just like having a best friend, but with added perks.

And while she couldn’t relate with the statement (at the moment), she could see that, in a similar sense, there was a fine line between things you do with someone because they’re your best friend and you’re just that close; and things you do with someone because you like them and want to get closer… and them showing the same interest in doing those things miiight mean they could like you, too.

Marinette was beginning to think she’d been using this fine line as a jump rope these past few weeks.

In theory, she should have no problem doing best-friend-stuff.

Chatting till early in the morning? Daily routine for her and Alya, especially when the latter got her hands on the latest scoop.

Video calls while doing homework? Marinette forgot what it was like to work without the face of her best friend, her face mirroring Marinette’s own tiredness.

Movie nights with the full package: face masks, popcorn, and 5 different types of candy? Every Saturday, starting at 9pm sharp.

But for some reason, when it came to doing those things with Adrien Agreste, she would just… freeze up and start overthinking every little thing. She has no idea why.

(Absolutely a lie. She knows exactly why.)

She was not one to deny her obvious crush on the blond-haired boy. Most times, her day is made by just one smile sent her way. But other times, when she’s actually able to hold a conversation with him (over chat, of course; she could never not stutter if it were face-to-face), it feels… normal. The talks are casual, like they’ve known each other forever. The butterflies in her stomach are quieter than usual, and she can say, with absolute certainty, that the famous model feels nothing special for the simple baker’s daughter, because Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste are destined to be the best of friends and nothing more. (Sadly, in her opinion.)

And then. He goes and surprises her with a, “Hey, are you free Friday night? I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movie theater with me. They’re playing reruns of episodes from that show we were talking about the other week.”

Marinette collapsed on her bed with a groan. She checked the clock on her wall: 6:19pm. She’s supposed to meet Adrien in front of the bakery in a little over half an hour, but she still has no idea what to wear. Curse that beautiful, gorgeous boy. He never told her what the occasion was. Should she wear something casual, like a nice sweater and jeans? Something more dressy, like a cute skirt and flats? She gasps to herself. He doesn’t expect her to be fancy and show up in a cocktail dress and heels, right? He’s a model after all, that might be what he’s used too… what if it’s something even fancier than that-- how can she pull together an outfit like that at the drop of a hat--

You’re spiraling, she chided herself. She was tempted to call her best friend, but she knew what the brunette would say.

“Obviously, dress to impress! The knee-length dress you bought for my birthday party, I can lend you pearl earrings and a necklace, a little bit of lip gloss, and a purse to match. Pair it with flats so you don't look too eager.”

Marinette laughed quietly, imagining Alya giving that whole spiel.

Maybe she could just text Adrien to ask what he’s wearing.

The thought of him replying, “Just a shirt and jeans. This is just a chill movie-with-a-friend date after all. Why, did you think it meant anything more?” was enough to make her chicken out (even though he’d never actually say that), so she decided to just wear a shirt, skirt, sneakers, and the cardigan he made for her.

If he asks, I can just say I always dress like this going out with my friends!

This was going to be a disaster.

.

.

.

“Oh. Wow. You look.” Adrien cleared his throat. “You look very nice, Marinette.”

At 7:05pm, she found him standing outside their bakery, as discussed. She waved shyly as she pulled the door shut, trying to ignore the not-so-subtle spying her parents were trying to from behind the bakery’s counter.

“You look quite nice yourself,” she managed to say. Even though her brain wanted to scream how beautiful he looked in his black polo and jeans. (At least she’d been right to dress half-dressy half-casual.)

“Shall we?” he said jokingly, holding out his arm expectantly. She laughed nervously, and looped her arm through his after a pause..

Best friends definitely link arms as they walk to the theater...right?

“Hm, it’s a little chilly, isn’t it?” she said as they made their way down the street. In truth, though, her cheeks were burning from the close contact.

“Yeah, good thing you wore a cardigan. Should we get popcorn?”

“For sure. Butter at the bottom, in the middle, and on top is the way to go.”

“No way! Cheese is totally better. Whoever thought of putting it on popcorn was brie-lliant.”

Marinette groaned. “That was even cornier than popcorn,” she complained.

“Well, I’m no Swiss master,” Adrien quipped, “sorry if my jokes are full of holes. Is it enough to make you feel bleu?”

There it is again, Marinette thought, as the friendly banter continued until they were in their seats. While she found his puns unusually endearing, the butterflies were quiet and her heart wasn't racing like she’d thought it would be.

Annoyingly, they came right back as she sat back, studying his profile while the show’s theme song played in the background.

Miraculous, the luckiest!

Her heart gave a little squeeze as he mouthed the words, bouncing in his seat excitedly, all his attention on the big screen.

Damn, he’s so cute. The thought flew through her head before she could stop it, and that was when she knew for sure.

The power of love, always so strong!

What started out as a little crush had leveled up into something waaay more, though it was too early -- far too early -- to call it love.

After the reruns, they decided to grab ice cream and sit at one of the park benches before heading back.

“What did you think of that last episode?” Adrien asked, licking the mint gelato on a cone.

Marinette looked down at her own strawberry-flavored one. “I think… the main characters were too dumb. I mean, they just… fit so well, you know? Why prolong getting together?” She grinned at him and pointed the cone in his direction. “The ending made up for it though. They were so berry cute in that last scene.”

Adrien was unable to respond for a second, shocked that Marinette had made a pun.

(She thought she could see a blush starting to form, too, but she told herself it was just the lighting of the park.)

He recovered in a heartbeat, though. “You’re right. They were definitely mint to be.”

“Okay, that was probably the corniest one this entire night,” she giggled, playfully rolling her eyes. (It was actually cute and surprisingly funny, though, and she had to bite her lip to suppress a smile.)

Adrien held a hand to his heart. “I’m offended! That wasn’t very cool of you.”

Marinette frowned, though she knew he was joking. She opened her mouth to protest but the sound of his laugh stopped her. Her retort died in her throat as her heart did a little skip.

There was a pause as she felt the blush spread across her cheeks. It was long enough for Adrien to turn to her, an eyebrow raised, silently wondering about the sudden silence.

For half a second, Marinette considered saying something crazy.

‘You’re cute’? ‘I love how your eyes sparkle when you laugh’?

“Sorry for dissing your pun,” she muttered lamely instead, turning away.

He chuckled lightly and stood. “Let’s head back,” he suggested, smiling.

She simply nodded, thinking of a million things she wants to say.

They made their way back to the bakery silently, breathing in the night air, gazing up at the stars. Once back at her door, Marinette faced Adrien and stuck her hand out for a friendly shake. “Thank you for tonight,” she said, back to her awkward self somewhat.

He smiled, remembering how their second meeting went something like this. He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he chose to press a kiss to the back of it. “Thank you for tonight,” he echoed. “I had a lot of fun.” He waved, and walked to his car.

He turned back for a final wave, and then entered the back. The car pulled away, leaving Marinette all alone in front of the bakery, still reeling from the kiss.

Marinette wanted to scream. The fine line she’d been jump roping with was now blurred together completely, and she wasn’t sure the butterflies in her stomach would ever go away.

And surprisingly, she found that she was completely okay with that.

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[invisibleinorange]

Swelter Weather, 2/?

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

Eloise thanked every star in the sky when Colin ventured out to go riding because that meant that she didn’t have to stomach another minute of him flirting with her best friend. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that they were friendly with each other nor was it that she didn’t want them to be friendly. It was just that the two of them alone was a bit overwhelming.

She usually only caught moments of banter between them though and with a million family members around someone was always getting pulled in the other direction. She didn’t have anyone to help break it up if this pattern of behavior continued and with the rest of the family busy back in London, she wouldn’t be able to call for reinforcements not that she could have. What was she supposed to tell them that wouldn’t earn an eyeroll.

After an eventful day of showing Penelope the lay of the land, including the gardens, they’d decided to have a movie night.  There had been some discussion on whether to go with a serious documentary or a comedy.  In the end, they ended up deciding to go the classic horror route and watch Hitchcock movies.

They were half-way through Psycho, completely absorbed into the story and awaiting a suspenseful moment when Colin came into the door frame. He watched them for a moment, completely unaware of his presence before he maneuvered over plopping into the space between them, forcing both Eloise and Penelope to move a bit to make way for him. He put his arm around both of their shoulder, grinning sheepishly.

“Hitchcock night without me? I think not,” he said.

Eloise pushed his arm away from her.

“If you have to stay, be quiet,” she said rolling her eyes at the fact he couldn’t go entertain himself.

Penelope offered him an apologetic smile on behalf of his sister.  She didn’t force him to move his arm so he just let his hand give her shoulder a squeeze and left it there. Colin’s other hand maneuvered to grab a handful of their popcorn popping some into his mouth.

To his credit he did remain quiet through the end of the movie.  It helped that the couch was small and with the three of them there, it was pretty cozy.  Eloise fell asleep after a bit, veering into the arm rest.    Penelope didn’t fall asleep but she did rest her head on Colin’s shoulder which he had no complaints about.

“Should we wake her up or drag her to her room?” Penelope finally asked breaking the silence once the movie was over, though she wasn’t exactly move. She was enjoying the proximity and the scent of Colin’s soap and cologne.

“She sleeps like the dead.  I’m pretty sure we’re better off just leaving her be,” Colin told her quietly, careful to not speak too loudly and actually disturb the sleeping Eloise.

“We should at least get her a blanket,” Penelope suggested quietly.

Colin reached back with his free hand and grabbed on afghan from the back of the chair and put it over his sister.

“Does that meet your expectations?” he asked turning his focus back on the girl that was now absent from his shoulder.

“Definitely,” she told him with a smile.

He let a hand absently reach to play with a red curl that was looping extra haphazard, looping it around his finger.

“Are you tired?” he asked after a long moment of comfortable silence between them.

“Not particularly,” she told him.

“Take the party elsewhere?  I have scrabble and some gin,” he offered after a long moment.

“You had me at scrabble,” she told him with a nod.

He forced himself up before offering her his hand so that she could climb to her feet as well.  He wasn’t sure whether he kept his hand in hers longer than he should have or it was the other way around. He’d forgotten how soft and warm her hands were.

He gave sleeping Eloise another passing glance just to make sure she was actually good and asleep before leading the way out toward another room that housed the stacks upon stacks of well-used board games.

He flicked on the light once there, moving into motion to grab pillows and set them on opposing sides of an oversized coffee table.   He then went and dug through the stacks until he found the scrabble board putting it on the coffee table.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he told her, smiling when Penelope sat down.  She was honestly adorable between the pajamas bottoms and tank top she’d put on for the movie night with Eloise.  He hadn’t quite paid attention before but he definitely was cognizant of the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. He wasn’t going to let himself stare though.

He was grateful for the fact she started unboxing the game and setting down the tiles which provided him time to grab the promised gin and two glasses.  He set that down on the table before plopping himself down on the opposing side of the table.

“I’m not going to take it easy on you just because we’re friends,” Penelope said after a long moment, as he poured their glasses.  He couldn’t help but laugh at that as he watched her shake the bag of tiles.

“I was going to say the same thing,” he teased before taking a swig of his drink. “I will, however, let you go first.  Ladies first and all.”

Penelope gazed at the letters she’d down for a couple of moments.  There were a couple basic words she could play but four letters stood out to her.  She reached for her glass, downing it before placing the W,A,N,K down to spell ‘Wank’.

Colin couldn’t remotely hide way hid body practically shook with laughter at the fact Penelope had played that word.

“Oh hush. You play what you draw,” she said shaking her head. “Besides, I knew you wouldn’t need a dictionary to know the definition of that one.”

“Touché,” he said shaking the bag and grabbing his own letters.  He smirked as he formulates his own word in retort.   He played off the K. Adding a S,U,C.  “Simple but gets across the point.”

She drew her replacement letters.

Her options were limited but she could pull off a word by adding I,N to his S.   She was pretty sure SIN worked just as good as any other out there though.

“Not my best work but it fits,” she announced.

“You wouldn’t know the meaning of that one since you’re an angel and everything,” he teased as replenished his tiles and started to debate his next word.

He added R, E,A,M to his earlier C to spell CREAM.

“An angel would think you were talking about ice cream there,”  she said raising an eyebrow.

“I could be but I’m not,” he said. “Even Lucifer was an angel though. Maybe I’m not the sex demon, you are.”

“I’m pretty sure that in order to be a sex demon, you have to actually be having sex,” she countered, looking particularly interested in her times before playing off the E and adding a D,E,P to form DEEP.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone right now?” Colin said after a minute in response to that.  It somehow felt a little less creepy than telling her than any of the other thoughts that came to mind.

He played O,O, and N against the P to spell POON.

“No,” she said in response to his question before forming DILDO off one of his O’s.  Penelope decided that this was one of those now or never moments and while she didn’t come right out and say it. This was as close as she’d ever been to straight up telling how she felt.  “It’s kind of hard when you’re hung up on someone.”

Their eyes met and Colin’s jaw tightened.

“Maybe they’re into you too,” he said after a minute.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to form LIPS off the L she’d played but he did.  He was certainly far more interested in her lips at this moment than the game. Maybe now was a good time to test out his little theory and see what she’d do if he made a move.

“In fact, I’d-“ he started to say but it was short lived. He was half-way to leaning across the board when the door opened with he jumped back on instinct.  The scrabble tiles and whatever was left of his drink went flying.

“I woke up and no one was there,” Eloise said as she made her way in, examining the situation with suspicion.  Her gaze moved from her brother to Penelope who looked remarkably guilty.  “I was worried that you had gotten lost on the way to your room.”

“Of course not, I was just keeping Colin company,” Penelope said as she tried to help clean up the mess that was their former game that was clearly not getting finished. “It’s getting late though and we probably should get some sleep.”

“Colin can finish cleaning up the mess,”  Eloise said, reaching for Penelope’s arm and practically dragging her up and away toward the door. Penelope turned her head to offer an apologetic gaze in his general direction as she was tugged away.

Colin was going to have to do something about all of this; especially the fact Eloise didn’t know how to read a room and get lost.  For now, he boxed up the game, cleaned up the spill and went grab a cold shower before bed.

That was his only hope.

[empyreanwritings]

Just a Little Complicated

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Florist AU)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of losing a parent

A/N: Y’all, I actually managed to write a one shot, are you proud of me? Please be proud of me LOL! This is written for @marquiswrites​ 100 followers challenge! I am super duper late, and for that I really am sorry. You probably have already reached another milestone by the time I’ve posted this. But yeah, go give them a follow cause they deserve it!

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated (: x

Sweat stuck to the back of Steve's shirt. He cursed himself for not getting a car already, but he didn't anticipate the southern heat being so brutal. The last thing he wanted was to go into places covered in sweat and ask for a job, but he had no choice. He couldn't afford to live off what the government deemed enough for a veteran to live on; he wasn't going to go off on that tangent, but it really was ridiculous. He almost gave his life for a country, and they acted like enough money to survive comfortably was a nuisance.

Many places gave him the same response when he asked if they were hiring: "Thank you for your service, but we just don't have an open spot!" Some of the managers hid their disdain for his lack of perfect hygiene. Not all of them, though. He could see the judgement in their eyes when he came in sweaty with a service dog in tow.

He was more than capable of handling any job, but he couldn't stop others from having their judgement. He was used to it back in the city.

But he refused to make a fuss about it here.

The last place he tried for the day was a small flower shop on the corner of the street. The entire shop window was filled with flowers of every color, and the windowsill was painted mint green. It contrasted greatly against the brick exterior, but Steve liked the way it looked; it had a quirky charm that many of the snooty "antique" shops didn't have.

And when he saw the bright yellow door with the name "Mama June's" written above it, he was sold.

Organization didn't exist in the shop, that was apparent the moment he stepped into it. Flowers, vases, and ribbons were scattered in groups throughout the different counters and containers. It reminded him of a wildflower field - chaotic yet oddly appealing.

An elderly woman rounded the corner, dirt covering her hands and arms. She let out a small 'Oh!' when she saw Steve before brushing her hands against her apron and offering one to him.

"You're not my daily lunch delivery!" She chuckled. "I'm June. Haven't seen you around these parts before - stayin' or passin' through?"

"Staying, hopefully." His smile made her smile in return, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled in the endearing way Steve always loved seeing in his own grandmother. "Steve Rogers, ma'am. It's nice to meet you."

She swatted his arm gently. "Don't you ma'am me, mister! I ain't that old yet!"

June - or Mama June, as she liked to be called - a whole foot shorter than Steve, but she acted like she was the tallest person in the room. Her round face showed her age in the way she wrinkled by her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Steve remembered something his mom used to say, "I don't get why women want to hide their laugh lines! It shows they lived a happy life!" And June clearly felt the same way.

She filled up a water bowl for Dodger and placed it down by his feet, which Steve quickly thanked her for. The poor boy wasn't used to this level of heat either.

"What can I do for ya?"

"I was hoping to see if you were hiring, ma-" She shot him a look that warned him not to finish his word, and he cleared his throat. "Mama June."

"Mhm, that's what I thought you were going to say," she hummed. "You ever work for a florist before?"

He shook his head, already preparing himself for the rejection. The closest he ever got to be a florist was helping pick out the flowers for his mother's funeral. It wasn't exactly his favorite memory.

"Well," she pretended to look around the empty shop and let out a dramatic sigh, "As you can see, we're pretty busy! I don't need much help up front, but I could use the help on delivery days. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday - that work?"

"Anything works for me. Thank you." He wanted to hug the woman for giving him a chance, but she would have probably kneed him. She was feisty.

The bells on the front door clanged as someone walked in, pulling their attention away from each other. June was just about the greet the new guest, but she was already being interrupted.

"Mama, you know you are supposed to be watching your cholesterol!" You scolded June as you set down a take-out container on the front counter. "My mother would turn over in her grave if she knew I was letting you eat the diner's burgers."

You sighed when June waved your comment off, and Steve let out a chuckle. The two of you must have known each other for a long time. The way you moved around the shop made it seem like you knew the layout like the back of your hand.

"And who is this?" Your eyes turned towards Steve, and he wasn't sure how to breathe when he noticed how they sparkled. Despite sweat and the grease stains on your diner dress, you were easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. And it wasn't until your eyebrows practically raised to your hairline that he realized he was too busy staring to introduce himself.

"This is my new helper!" June replied for him. "Steve's gonna help me around here on delivery days."

You gasped in mock surprise. "You're actually letting someone help you? Has Hell frozen over?"

"Stop it. I'm never to turn away someone in need, and my back has been actin' up." You whipped around, but June held her hand up. "Don't give me that look! I'm fine! I just can't be liftin' boxes the way I used to."

You shook your head, strands of your hair falling out of your bun. Concern was written all over your face. Steve couldn't help but wonder if you knew something about June that no one else did. Maybe she was sick, or just had poor health in general. Either way, he knew he was going to have to look out for the old woman when you weren't around.

You chewed on your bottom lip and finally turned back towards Steve after a beat.

"You take care of her," you said with a hint of warning in your tone. "I bring lunch every day at noon, so feel free to give a call before then to give me your order."

Steve smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

He was partially embarrassed 'Thank you' was the only thing he managed to say in your presence. Time overseas hadn't done much to help his charm when it came to women. Not that he would have instantly started flirting with you - he had manners - but still. He would have liked to appear smoother.

You left the shop almost as quickly as you entered it. June let out a laugh when she realized Steve had been staring at the door for a solid minute after you walked out. He wasn't discreet at all.

"I'll see you Wednesday, Steve," she nudged his side with her elbow, "Unless I see you at the diner before then!"

Her comment made her burst into another fit of laughter, and she grabbed her meal and headed towards the back before he could defend himself. He looked down at Dodger and shook his head. At least he didn't know how obvious his owner was.

Steve settled into working with June easily after that day. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, he'd be there at six in the morning to unload the boxes from the delivery truck. It was a lot more work than he expected it to be, but he enjoyed it. He loved being able to stay busy and feel like someone needed him.

Working in the morning gave him enough time to avoid the southern heat that always came by ten. He was thankful to have the cool AC to unpack the boxes in because he wasn't sure he'd make it the first week if June made him unpack them all outside. He'd probably end up worse than an ice cream cone melted on the sidewalk - and he had seen a few of those in the few weeks he worked.

But the best part about working had been you.

Every day you came in at noon, not a minute before or after. June said you had a thing about always being on time, and you never explained why. She had her theories about how you missed saying goodbye to your mom because you were late, but you refused to confirm whether that was true or not. And Steve didn't know you well enough to ask.

Throughout the weeks, though, he spent as much time as he could getting to know you. Some days were tougher than others; you didn't always like answering the questions he wanted to ask you, but other days, you were generous.

He learned the basics: your favorite color, the one movie that made you cry even after you've watched it several times, and what kind of toppings you liked on your pizza. And you liked asking him the deeper questions. What made him join the army? If he could go anywhere in the world, where would he go? Why did he prefer New York style pizza over deep dish?

The deep-dish debate lasted for an hour, and you only stopped arguing because your lunch break was over.

"I'll learn to forgive your poor taste in pizza if you tell me what your favorite flower is," he said one day when you didn't have to rush back to the diner.

You shrugged your shoulders and pretended like telling him your favorite flower was the worst thing he could ever make you do. "Aren't you the flower man now? I know June's been giving you some of her tips in flower arranging magic! You should be able to figure out what kind of flower I like the most."

It was a challenge, he realized later on. You could have told him what your favorite flower was and never thought about it again, but you wanted to test him. You wanted to see if he actually paid attention to the things you told him during your one-hour visits. Of course, Oblivious Steve had to be told by June that was what you were doing.

He made it his mission to make sure you left with one flower whenever he worked after that.

You'd come in with the styrofoam takeout containers, and he would wait for you by the front counter with a single flower in his hand. Every day he worked.

The first time he did it, you crinkled your nose at the sight of the single red rose.

"Roses are apology flowers," you tutted. "Are you trying to say you've cheated on me before we've even gone on a date, Rogers?"

The tips of his ears turned bright red in the moment, and it was something you and June laughed about for the rest of the week. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you didn't plan on stopping any time.

You were actually curious how long he'd hold out just to find what kind of flower you loved.

Most guys would have given up by the second try; you wondered if Steve Rogers was going to be like most guys.

But even after you rejected the lilies and chrysanthemums and sunflowers, he still kept trying. He reminded you, in the most teasing way possible, he worked with a florist and had an endless supply of different flowers. He swore he'd find the one to make you swoon eventually.

When June came to you one morning and asked you to be nice to the man, you playfully rolled your eyes and reminded her that no good love story started out easy. You hadn't realized the words left your lips until June's eyes started to sparkle and she gave you the secret smile that reminded you of your mother. Steve Rogers made you think about love - something you hadn't thought about since your mother passed away.

Hell really must have frozen over then.

The next day Steve worked, after your conversation with June, your heart sunk when you realized there wasn't a flower in his hand. His focus was on an inventory sheet, which was a part of his job, but you expected him to take a break for his usual time with you. You thought that maybe he grew tired of trying to woo you.

Maybe it was too difficult.

Maybe you were too difficult.

But then he held his hands out and told you to wait in your spot, and you couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face when he pulled a white box from behind the counter. It was small, probably didn't hold more than the bud of a flower or several flowers. And it had a black ribbon wrapped haphazardly around it.

You made a mental note to remind June to teach the poor man how to wrap ribbons around boxes and vases. He may have only unloaded the delivery trucks, but he deserved to learn the basic stuff.

You gasped when you opened the box and saw the Black Dahlia. How he managed to guess was one thing, but how he even managed to get the flower was another. You knew June didn't carry them in her shop because of how rare and expensive they were, which meant he went to a lot of trouble to make sure he had it for this moment. He went through a lot of trouble for you.

"How-"

"Mama June told me a good florist never reveals his secrets," Steve teased.

"You know, these flowers are supposed to represent betrayal and negative emotions. It's why a lot of florists don't like to use them in bouquets; it takes away their magic," you said with a small smile, your focus still on the flower sitting in your hand.

Steve shrugged. "I think there's magic that, don't you? Finding the beauty in the things that people say are bad."

"Are you saying I'm bad, Steve Rogers?" You murmured, not at all taking offense.

"Not bad, darling, just a little complicated."

[imagining-supernatural]

The Fifth Check-In

Part 23 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You have a panic attack on the day you get another round of test results back

Word Count: 1,744

Warnings: The Magicians season 5 spoilers right off the bat. Skip the first few paragraphs if you don’t wanna be spoiled!!

“Look, all I’m saying is that Quentin should have lived and that was a shitty ending.” After stating your opinion, you sat back in the chair and waited for Brenda to respond.

She finished writing something in a chart and nodded over at you. “But the whole season was kind of culminating to that ending, wasn’t it? Quentin had Eliot right there the whole time, but it wasn’t Eliot. They were so close, but couldn’t be together. Then, when the Monster is finally gone, they still can’t be together.”

“Okay, but sacrificing himself like that? God, Q’s been suicidal his whole life and having him basically commit suicide, but wrapping it up with a nice bow of martyrdom is probably the worst way they could have handled it. This is fucking fantasy. You think the writers could have found a better way to keep the angst and tension of keeping Eliot and Quentin apart rather than, you know, killing the character so many people who struggle with depression can identify with like that. Make one of them stuck in another world. Have one be sent back in time or something.”

Brenda regarded you with narrow eyes, taking in your words.

Conversations like this were the reason she was your favorite nurse in the hospital. Both of you shared interest in so many TV shows that it was an instant connection and she would constantly come fill out charts in your room for the company.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Mm, well, I have all the time in the world lately to mindlessly scroll through posts online. I never thought I’d miss being able to go out to, like, bars and shit.”

“Well, once you recover from your surgery in January, you’ll be able to do that again.”

You nodded and absently picked at the hem of your shirt. Mid-January was one month away. Yesterday and this morning you’d been run through the gambit of tests and you’d be meeting with Dr. Chowdhury later today for the results. In the three weeks since Thanksgiving, you’d gotten so weak you could barely walk up a flight of stairs without having to pause in the middle to catch your breath. You hoped to God that meant the treatment was working.

If this treatment wasn’t working, there likely wouldn’t be any reason for you to stay in the clinical trial.

Would there be any reason to stay in New York if that happened? When you’d made the deal with Sebastian to stay married and get treatment, you’d agreed that once the treatment was over, you’d get a divorce. But things had changed, hadn’t they?

Brenda got a page and left the room in a hurry, giving your thoughts more space to multiply.

Had things changed enough?

And if you were kicked out of the clinical trial, was it fair to Sebastian for you to stay? You’d known each other almost exactly three months. That wasn’t enough time to expect someone to endure watching your cancer kill you in the last few weeks of your life.

Of course, you hadn’t even known him a full twenty-four hours before he was offering to fly you to New York, offering his home to you, and offering his medical insurance.

The cry of a child down the hallway drew you from your thoughts enough for you to recognize the beginning of a dark spiral. Without thinking too much of it, you pulled your phone out to call Sebastian. On the first ring, you realized he was probably shooting a scene and wouldn’t be able to answer. On the second ring, you decided to just leave a short voicemail. Nothing too worrying.

And on the third ring, he answered. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

“You called at a good time. Just finished shooting for the day.”

His voice alone was enough to help lessen the tension that had gathered in your shoulders and you found yourself relaxing further back into the recliner. “Wow, short day. What’re you going to do with all of this free time?”

“Thought I’d grab some food and relax until you called. Did you already meet with Dr. Chowdhury?”

“Not yet.” You shook your head, even though he wouldn’t be able to see you. “I’ve still got another hour and a half ‘til the appointment.”

“You nervous?”

You let out a snort of laughter. “A bit, yeah. And by a bit, I mean I’m overthinking everything way too much right now.”

“Talk to me, baby. What’s on your mind?”

“Besides the ever-present worry that the tests come back bad? I don’t know…”

“Y/N…” he prompted.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. As if that would make your thoughts easier to bear. “If this treatment isn’t working, what happens then? I-I-I… God, I know I sound like a broken record, but if the results aren’t good, I’m out of options and I can’t help but worry. I mean, what? I go back to Utah and try to make myself accept that I’m going to die? It took me a while to wrap my head around that earlier this year. I don’t know if I can do it as… as peacefully as before. Peacefully isn’t the right word, but I can’t think of it right now. I just… Seb I need the results to be good today. I need good news. I fuckin’ need it.”

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s no—”

“At the very least I need to stick around long enough to see the new season of The Magicians. I’ve put in far too much time looking up fan theories online to die before it airs.” You were rambling. You knew it. But you couldn’t stop. In fact, you just kept talking faster and faster, tripping over your words. “And have I ever told you about when I watched the finale of the last season? I was crying so much that when I left my room to get ice cream, Jasmin told me she could hear me crying all the way from her room. Like, fuck, that can’t be the last scene I see of The Magicians. That would be far too cruel of a joke for the Universe to play on me.”

“Y/N, breathe.” You did as he said. He waited for you to take a few more breaths before speaking again. “Baby, where’s all this coming from? You were fine this weekend before I left, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. But now it’s here and this is the last round of these tests like this. The next time I have tests run, it’ll be to see if I’m ready for surgery. Not to see if the treatment is working. These are the last progress tests. And, historically, I haven’t had much luck with those. The first round of tests with Helen showed that my cancer was more aggressive than my doctor back in Salt Lake thought. Then there were the tests before you left for that week of interviews when we found out it was even more aggressive than we thought because it hadn’t shrunk any. Then—”

“Hey, baby, baby.” Sebastian cut off your recap of bad luck. “I know. I know there’s only really been one round of tests that didn’t give you bad results. Trust me, I know how scary this is. I’m fuckin’ terrified too.”

In a soft, meek voice you asked, “You are?”

“I am. I don’t want to lose you, and there’s nothing I can do at all to change the outcome of any of this. God, I wish I was with you right now.”

I don’t want to lose you.

That was the first time he’d said anything about seeing a future with you, besides a few offhanded comments about next year. Sure, it was a loose interpretation, and it was something people said at times like these, but it still made your heart calm down a bit.

“I wish you were here too,” you admitted quietly. Something about hearing him admit that he was scared calmed your nerves. “Can… can I call you and put you on speaker when I meet with Dr. Chowdhury? I know it won’t be the same as you holding my hand but…”

“Yes, please. I was about to ask that, actually.”

Relief flowed through your body. “Thank you, honey. I didn’t want to go through alone. I’m glad you had a short day today.”

“Mmhmm.” He agreed.

“Anyway, I should probably let you go for now. Go grab some food and head back to your room.”

“You sure? I can stay on with you. I can multitask.”

A smile forced itself onto your face at his offer. “I know. And I appreciate the offer, but I’m coming down from that little panic attack and I think I’m going to fall asleep. So you get your food and I’m going to take a nap while this machine keeps pumping toxic chemicals into my body. I’ll talk to you in an hour and a half.”

Your leg was bouncing faster than your heart was beating. Or was it the other way around?

Either way, you were nervous as hell.

“So, to be on track the tumor has to have shrunk at least twenty percent, right?” You asked Dr. Chowdhury as he looked through your file. “That’s what you said when we changed the treatment. Twenty percent by now, and another fifteen percent before surgery?”

He nodded. “That is correct. Dr. Abara agreed that if your tumor shrinks at least thirty-five percent since your previous scans, your chances at having a successful surgery are much higher than if it does not shrink that much. Considering how you have reacted to the treatment thus far, twenty percent is a fair amount.”

You blew out a long breath and heard Sebastian shifting on the other end of the phone.

“So?” you asked Dr. Chowdhury, gripping your phone so tightly you were scared it might break. “Where am I at?”

“Your scans show that the tumor is twenty-five percent smaller than it was at Thanksgiving.”

He was smiling at you and Sebastian was saying something, but your brain couldn’t process the news that quickly.

Twenty-five percent? More than anticipated? Good news?

“That’s… that’s good news, right?”

A short bark of relieved laughter came through the phone speaker from Sebastian as Dr. Chowdhury nodded. “Very good news.”

“Holy shit.”

You could hardly believe it.

Good News!!! And I would apologize for ranting about The Magicians, but I had EMOTIONS that needed a VOICE and this was the time and place, apparently. Anyway, I was rereading this and saw the line about being able to go to bars and shit in January and just laughed a bit. Ah, the world before COVID. I miss those times. So, do you guys think the treatment is going to continue to work? You think the surgery will happen? And if it does... what happens after Are they gonna stay married? 

CHAPTER 24: THE AIRPORT

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton (more to be added)

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman Logan (more to be added)

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2

The man Virgil had carjacked, Patton he had said, hummed a soft tune as he pulled back onto the interstate. Virgil glanced down at the ice cream in his hands and took a second bite. Was he…was he actually serious about all of this?

Virgil was suspicious, but the guy had been nothing but surprisingly nice for someone who’d been kidnapped. The nicer he was, the worse Virgil felt about the whole, breaking into his car and threatening him at knife point thing. Maybe that was the point? Maybe he was hoping Virgil would feel bad enough to eventually just tell him drive to the police station so he could turn himself in.

Not likely.

It didn’t matter how nice the dude was to him, he was not going anywhere his mother might be able to find him. Nope. Not happening. Not after what happened earlier in the day. He’s just lucky he’d been snooping in his dad’s room trying to find where the man had hidden the Gameboy and found whatever radio thing dad had hidden beneath a floorboard under his bed.

Well. “Lucky” was perhaps not the right word, he thought as he stuffed an even larger spoonful of ice cream into his mouth while trying to force himself not to cry. Nothing was lucky about today.

He didn’t know why dad had the radio thing. (He was pretty sure at this point that he didn’t know a lot of things.) All he knew was that it was some type of communication device and his mother’s voice would have been undeniably clear on it even if people hadn’t been calling her by name. He hadn’t known what on Earth was going on. All he knew was that he’d backed away from it in horror and confusion when the message that Remington Gates was dead came through. Mom had said “good.” He’d hoped it had been some kind of trick, but when some guy had broken into the house to take him to his mother not even 10 minutes later, he’d pieced together the truth.

His dad was dead. His mom had killed him. And whatever her plans were for Virgil, Virgil didn’t want any part of it. Luckily, when he was 12, he’d watched a horror movie and hadn’t slept for a week. His dad had solved the problem by showing him how to use pepper spray effectively and then letting him keep a can of it in his nightstand in case anyone ever broke in to try to kidnap him. Virgil was… pretty sure dad hadn’t ever thought someone would break in and try to kidnap him.

He’d pepper sprayed the guy mom had sent and grabbed a knife from the kitchen before booking it out the back door.

The options had been the park, the grocery store, or try to make it to the nearest bus stop and hope a bus arrived soon. In a bid to be unpredictable, he’d gone to the grocery store. Of course, he’d needed to get out of the neighborhood and fast, but he knew a bus or any form of public transport would be easily trackable. The only solution was a car, but the problems with that were that Virgil didn’t have a car, he didn’t know how to hotwire a car, and his only experience driving had been when his older brother allowed him to drive a golf cart when he was 7 and he drove it into a pond.

Which had led him here, in a stranger’s car after waiting for him to come out of the store in the backseat and pressing a kitchen knife up against his neck. It had been… a day.

He finished the entire giant “concrete” ice cream thing Patton had got him and stuck it in the bag with the rest of the trash.

“Want to listen to the radio?” Patton asked. “Passenger gets to choose the station!”

“Er… sure.” Virgil reached forward to flip it on. They were far enough out of range that whatever station Patton had last listened to in town was now just static, so Virgil started to mess with the dials.

There didn’t seem to be any music channels that adhered to his tastes, so he just ended up on some pop station. He was just settling back into his seat when Patton’s phone started to ring from where he’d tossed it when he’d gotten into the car at the grocery store.

Virgil blinked at the phone. “Is that the Mission Impossible theme song?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Why does it sound like that?”

“It’s the kazoo version,” Patton explained.

“…Why?”

Patton just smiled. “I should probably answer it.”

“No!” Virgil said. “You’re not allowed to answer it.”

Patton shrugged. The music stopped after a few more seconds and then started up right after that.

“It’s my brother. He’s going to keep calling,” Patton informed him, “and if I don’t answer, he’s going to call the cops because he assumed, I was kidnapped. Which… in this case.”

“Shit,” Virgil said as the ringing stopped again only to pick up once more a moment later. “Shit. Fine. You can answer it, but I’m putting it on speaker and don’t try to tell him anything.”

“Yeah, alright,” Patton agreed easily.

Oh god, this was a bad idea. Virgil grabbed the phone and accepted the call before putting it on speaker.

“Hi, Lo.”

“Why aren’t you answering your home phone?”

“I’m not at home,” Patton said.

“Where are you?”

Patton considered it for a moment. “I’m… on a road trip.”

“A road trip?” the man on the other end of the line asked blankly. “What do you… what do you mean?”

“I mean, I got in my car and now I’m driving.”

“You were supposed to be home all week. Patton, I need you to be in the city right now. Where are you?”

Virgil shook his head wildly.

“I don’t know,” Patton said thoughtfully. “A road.”

“Patton,” the man groaned. “Why?”

“It’s just a thing that happened Lo, sorry if you needed me.”

“How is a road trip a ‘thing’ that just ‘happens,’ Patton?” he asked. Patton glanced at Virgil.

“Erm… it just did?” he said.

“Patton!”

“Anyway, I’m a little bit busy so talk to you later!”

“Patton do not hang up the phone!”

“Love you Logi!” He jerked his head at Virgil and Virgil hit the end call button.

The second the call ended Virgil groaned. “It would have been better if you just didn’t answer.”

The Mission Impossible Song: Kazoo Version started playing again.

“It’ll be best if you just turn that off,” Patton said.

“Won’t he just call the cops?”

Patton gave him a secret smile. “No, he’ll just think I’m being silly and ignoring him.”

“Do you do stuff like that often?” Virgil asked.

“Just enough so he doesn’t ask questions when I don’t want him to,” Patton divulged. “It’s a little brother thing, you know.”

Virgil flinched just a bit. A brother thing. He wondered where his brother was now. He’d always been nice to Virgil, but he’d also always been obedient to mom. He wondered if he knew about Virgil’s dad. The two had always gotten along even though he wasn’t Janus’s father, but mom was… mom. Virgil didn’t want to know whose side he’d take.

The ringtone ended and started back up once again. Virgil held down the power button until it turned off and decided to store it in the glove compartment so Patton couldn’t reach it as easily. (Though, perhaps he should have thought of that earlier, but he was new to the whole kidnapping thing.)

He sat back against the seat and started rubbing at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Everything okay over there?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine,” Virgil snapped and then bristled under the raised eyebrow he got in return. “This radio station is just stupid,” he grumbled.

“Well, you can change it,” Patton pointed out.

The radio station wasn’t actually the problem, but it did give him something to do with his hands. He reached forward and started fiddling with the radio dials. About 10 minutes later he hit a radio station that wasn’t music, but some guy talking. Virgil paused on the station and sat back. Whoever the guy was, his voice was low and soothing.

Virgil closed his eyes and listened for a few minutes before he let out a startled chuckle. “He’s talking about Moth Man?”

He opened his eyes to see Patton’s face crinkled up into a soft smile. “He is.”

Virgil couldn’t help but start to giggle. He laughed so hard that it started to blur into sobbing. He felt a gentle touch on his knee and looked over at Patton.

“There are tissues in the glove box,” he told Virgil. Virgil nodded and reached forward into to the glove box to grab the Kleenex Box while still sniffling.

He blotted at his eyes and blew his nose before sticking the dirty tissue into his hoodie pocket.

Today had been a horrible day. He was exhausted. He leaned back against the seat and his eyes flickered closed.

“Do you want me to change the radio station?” Patton asked softly.

Virgil laughed again and barely restrained himself from going into another fit. “No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. I’ve gotta hear how it ends.”

“That’s fair,” Patton said and though Virgil had his eyes closed, he imagined he was shooting him one of those confusing soft smiles again.

The conspiracy theory radio guy kept blathering on about sightings of Moth Man in a deceptively calm tone.

Wow Virgil was tired.

…

Falling asleep while the guy you carjacked drove probably wasn’t a good idea.

That was one of the last coherent thoughts he had before he drifted off to sleep.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 4 My Master Post

[crowdedimagines]

Go Away - David Dobrik

word count: 1791

Being in movies and on TV was originally how I met David. He messaged me on Instagram to let me know that he enjoyed the work I did and he would love to feature me on a vlog. That same night I watched several of his past vlogs. I agreed to it the next morning.

It took a long time for my schedule to be free, but when it did I came over to David’s house.

“Holy shit, you’re actually here!” David laughs, pulling my in for a hug.

“I’m here.” I laugh, I notice he has a camera in his hand already.

We talk for a few minutes to break the ice.

“Okay, what am I doing for the vlog?” I ask. I know that David must have something planned. In past videos when he gets ‘bigger celebrities’ he makes a big deal of it.

“I was thinking we could just surprise everyone! Everyone loves you.” David explains.

“Sounds great.”

“We should start with Natalie! She’s in her room, she’s probably your biggest fan in the vlog squad.”

We walk through his house and he knocks on presumably Natalie’s door. David stops me a few feet before the door so she won’t see me when she opens the door. It takes a few seconds, but she does eventually do it.

“I need you to close your eyes.” David instructs without giving her a second to say anything.

“David, no.” She instantly tries to shut him down. They continue to argue back and forth, but as always David wins. Natalie is sitting on her bed with a shirt tied around her face. He comes back out into the hall to grab me and lead me in.

“You’re going to love this.” David laughs, making Natalie even more nervous.

“I hate you, David. My heart is actually racing right now.”

David counts down to three and I take off her blindfold.

“Surprise!” I yell with a smile.

“Holy shit!” Natalie covers her mouth in utter shock, “This is not happening. David, you didn’t!”

I reach out to pull her in for a hug which she happily reciprocates.

“I told you you’re going to love this.” David says, obviously gloating.

“How did this evil person convince you to come over here?” Natalie asks laughing, but also genuinely curious about how you got here.

“He messaged me a while ago, and now here we are.”

“Y/n and I are just sitting on my bed talking. How is this my life now?” Natalie asks, looking to the camera David is still holding.

“L.A. life baby.”

The rest of the group had similar reactions. All were in complete shock, at the fact that I was there and the fact that David got me there. After that I started coming over regularly, they truly are an amazing group of friends.

It took several months of being friends with everyone, but David and I started dating. It was obvious according to everyone else. They saw it coming before either of us did. Now, we’ve happily been dating for eight months. The fans have known for almost four months, they claim they knew it after my first video with them.

“I’m pretty sure I could stay like this forever.” David announces.

“Me too.”

David and I are tucked into the Lovesac, taking a nap. It’s been a long week and to have this moment makes things so much better.

“Hey, Y/n.” I hear a knock at David’s bedroom door. I shoot him a confused look, not sure why someone is asking for me right now. Zane, Carly, Erin, and Jason are all here, but they knew that we were trying to have some time to ourselves.

“Yeah?” I yell back.

Zane swings open the door and walks in.

“Can I ask you for a favor? Pretty please, Y/n?”

I untuck my head from David’s chest so I can actually look at Zane.

“What’s up?” I sit up even more, making David try and pull me back in.

“Will you help me film-”

“No.” David cuts off Zane before he can even finish his question.

“David.” I smack his chest.

“I brought up that idea with you a few days ago. I was hoping we could film it now so I can actually post.”

Shit. I did tell Zane I would film a video with him. He wanted to do a q and a with me and I told him that I would.

“Yeah, I totally forgot. Give me like five minutes and I’ll be out.” Zane leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Babe, this wasn’t part of the plan.” David wraps an arm around my chest to pull me back down.

“I told him I would do it.” I stand up, fighting David’s grip, “He’s your friend anyway.”

“Whatever, you’re just as much a part of the vlog squad as I am now.” David rolls his eyes.

“Well, he was your friend first.” I lean down to press a kiss to his cheek, “It won’t take long.”

I get dressed for the day and go out to the living room to film the video. It ends up being really good, we end up with some juicy questions. I’m not sure David is going to love the video as much as I do, but where’s the harm in a little teasing?

“I told you it wouldn’t take long.”

I flop down onto David’s bed, where he has now moved to. He sets down his phone and turns to face me.

“Now, what do you want to do?”

David and I go for a ride in his new ferrari. It’s still new so taking it just to go get ice cream is thrilling. We get back to the house and more people have turned up, but neither of us are complaining. We love everyone, even if we wish we had more along time.

“Where’d you guys go?” Carly asks from the couch.

“We just went out for ice cream.” I set down my bag.

Everyone is talking, involved in their own conversations. David and I take this opportunity to go back to his room.

“I love our friends, but fuck I want them to leave.” David groans.

“What’s the big deal?” I laugh, we’ve just had a calm day. We’ve still spent most of it together.

“I just want you all to myself.”

I lean in and press my lips against his. He can be such a needy boy at times. For all of two more seconds he does get me all to himself.

“Y/n” Erin sings my name, letting herself into David’s bedroom. We pull apart and turn to face her.

“Carly and I were wondering if you wanted to film vlog squad gossip with us. We haven’t done it with you before.” Erin smiles, she’s so sweet and I love that she wants to include me.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Okay, great. Carly and I are just gonna set everything up.” Erin walks out.

“Y/n, why would you say yes?” David looks upset.

“Why not? Erin just asked, she was being so nice!” I laugh, not understanding why he’s upset.

“I don’t want to share you today. I have to share you with them every other day.”

“Babe, just take a nap and by the time you wake up we can get food. Kick everyone out. Just us in the house.” I run a hand through his hair.

“Fine, you have to promise though.” David says with an obvious pout.

“I promise.” I roll my eyes, but laugh regardless.

I leave David in his room and go to the theater room where the girls set up. We film the intro and dive in with several different crazy theories.

“Y/n, this one is about you!” Erin says loudly, she pulls her laptop closer to read it.

“Why do I feel like everyone uses Y/n for content? Is she actually a part of the vlog squad or is she just featured in everyone’s videos for clout?”

“Oh my god.” Carly says, shocked with the comment.

“I can’t believe someone would say that!”

“I can.” I smile, “I get comments like that all the time.”

“They’re crazy though! Obviously you’re a part of the vlog squad!” Erin defends.

“That’s sweet for you guys to say.” I smile again, I tuck my legs up under me.

“Do you not believe it though?” Carly asks, “We can cut this out too if you aren’t comfortable with this.”

“No, I’m fine.” I reassure, “It’s just that I’m new. I’ve only been around for a few months, I love everyone, but I’m not sure I would say I’m a part of the vlog squad. A lot of fans would agree with that.”

“Well, I would.”

“Me too.”

We move on and it’s not awkward at all. You would think a discussion like that at hand would bother people, but it doesn’t. It makes me really glad that both girls are so welcoming.

“Y/n, this one is about you too.”

“Lovely.” I say laced with sarcasm. They both laugh and start to read the comment.

“Is it just me or has Y/n completely changed David-”

“No, I don’t like these.” I cut off Carly before she can read more that I’m going to be upset with.

“No, let me finish, ‘because I totally can see how much happier and healthier David is now. Y/n really is the best thing to happen to him.”

“Awe, that was sweet.” I grin.

“Yeah, I would totally agree with that too. I feel like he’s happier with life.”

“Stop!” I try to stop them from going on as I feel a blush coming on.

We finish the rest of the video and I finally get to go wakeup David. I politely kick everyone out of the house before waking David up.

“Dave.” I lighty shake his shoulder.

“Hmm?” He slowly wakes up.

“I’m all done filming.”

“Yeah?” He sits up more.

“And I kicked everyone out.”

“Really?” I see a grin appear on his face.

“And I already ordered Chipotle. It’s on it’s way.”

“You are the perfect girlfriend.” David peppers kisses all over my face making me laugh.

We sadly get interrupted by the doorbell going off.

“That has to be the food.”

We both walk out and head to the door. We look and it’s Jonah standing on the front steps.

“Hey guys, I was wondering if you guys wanted to film-”

Before Jonah can finish whatever he wants to film, David says two words to him and slams the door. I can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Go away!”

[theconfuseddork]

The chaos of values and virtues

The post which I am going to write is going to be hell lot confusing. There are two reasons for this statement. First, as stated, I get confused a lot. And second, the chaos that we witness these days around India is also a hell lot of confusing.

It all started as me and my family were celebrating Onam, a hindu-origin but universally celebrated ‘festival’ that is celebrated around the whole Kerala. The story behind this festival is known to every malayalee, where God Shri Vishnu Came down to Earth as Vamana avatar to send virtuous and kind King Mahabali to hell(Pataal Lok). Before sending him to hell, the king asked to meet the people every year after harvest and spend some days with them, 

Now, the question I had ignored before unintentionally was, what was the actual reason of Shri Vishnu coming to earth to stop Mahabali. Did he do anything wrong? Did he commit any sin?

Now, some texts might say he had a life filled with sin. But most sanskrit texts still say he was a benevolent and kind ruler. So, what could be the real reason behind it? The answer is simple but devastating. 

The truth is that the king was a daitya, which is a clan of asuras and danavas. For the people around here, asuras and danavas are demons ruling over some parts of the earth and hell. Now the typical human mentality is that the demons are all bad and has to be destroyed by all costs, well that’s what our family wants us to understand. But if all asuras are bad, why is Mahabali thought to be a benevolent ruler?

Adding to this, Mahabali’s grandfather, was also a great devotee of Vishnu and the reason for the story of why we celebrate Holi, the great king Prahlada, whose father Hiranyakashipu, due to his authentic misdeeds, was killed by another Shri Vishnu Avatar, Lord Narasimha. Now, the mighty and kind Prahlada was a great devotee, but an asura, therefore, the defeat is inevitable. Similarly, his son Virochana, another great king, was defeated using deception by none other than King Indra, god of thunder and king of the devas(gods). Now, as Shri Krishna said during the Gita Purana, deceptions should be done for the greater good, I asked myself, giving Lord Indra the seat for the King of devas, a greater good?

Lord Indra, the king of devas, was an epitome of goodness, although with a great deal of exceptions. A king, I ask for pardon from everyone, filled with jealousy, anger, philandering, and most of all, selfish. Great are his misdeeds along with deeds. True, he got punished several times. However, he still sits on the same throne while the demons have the pataal lok. Therefore, what could be the reason the other Lords preferred Devas rather than Asuras?

The unfortunate answer lies around three huge concepts which are totally flawed: Secularism, Casteism and Nepotism. Wait, have i heard these words before? Oh yes!!!! These are the hot topics around India these days!

The apparent death of a well-known actor is creating a huge uproar around the country. And here, I witnessed the alpha gang (not to forget, a respected outspoken well-known actress) asking their self-proclaimed arch-nemesis, the pseudo-secular gang, ‘Why are you silent on these issues. Are someone paying you for this?’ She with the alphas’ help even went on to talk about reservations. 

Now, even I am not a staunch supporter of reservations. However, to talk about things which to society right now, is a secondary problem(the primary problems are much more than that) is plainly wrong. And, truth be told, these alpha gang themselves are the worst progenitor of nepotism. it is due to nepotism that deeds and misdeeds of Pandavas are celebrated and people such as Eklavya, and to an extent Karna, are ignored. And the secondary reason why Karna was killed, was that Lord Indra, to save his son Arjuna, asked for Karna’s impenetrable shield and earrings. Isn’t this nepotism, my dear friends?? 

Now people might say these people did suffer because of the sins they have committed in their present and past lives. Now tell, me friends, does that mean you have the license to commit sin so that you will suffer in the next future or next life?

People following something in the name of perception filled in by majority and then trivially provoking, fighting and finding conspiracy theories based on it. Isn’t this a bit far-fetched? I guess the Littlefinger in our Westeros has sowed the seeds of chaos so bad, that its ladder reached the skies.....(Sorry, a little GOT reference :P ).

Think about these things. Sometimes, what we believe turns out to be a whole lot different than what it exactly is. But to get that, people need to think on facts (which, right now is not possible for mostly 90% people around the country).

Now, I am not saying I am a thinker. I am just a confused maniac. Cant do anything about it. People might admonish me for mixing both the concepts together. But this is what I was programmed to do. To ask questions. And your job?  To enlighten my concepts, and to clear away my confusions.

Now, people might come at me for my stupidity, mediocrity, my intellect, my intelligence and even my background... But, before you go on to your admonishing streak, my humble request to you all is, whatever I have said, do this simple exercise for me. Take a nice shower, eat your favorite ice cream, and with a cool mind, think about what I have written and simply retrospect. I hope only two results might happen. Either, you will also join my confused club or you would try to enlighten me on all these concepts.

If you get the latter, feel free to put in the comments section. Thank you for your patience.....

[000609]

One, Two, Punch Pairing: Lee Know x Reader Words: 3k Genre: fluff Warnings: swearing & a punch resulting in some blood 

Summary: In which Minho has a way of going a little too far to ask you to hang out with him. or  In which Minho thinks asking you to punch him in the face is the only way he’ll be able to see you after school.

”So you’re saying you would enjoy it if I punched you in the face?”

You stared with raised eyebrows at the boy sitting across from you at the small wooden table crammed in between high bookshelves in the school library. He sighed as if what he was saying was making a lot of sense and that you were stupid for not getting it. 

Minho just a few minutes earlier asking you to punch him in the face and stating that it would be enjoyable, did in fact not make any sense at all and you had every right to stare at him with raised eyebrows.

”No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that it would count as a valuable experience.” Minho said as a breeze passed through the open window you were sitting by, fluttering the pages of the books laid open in front of you on the table.

A moment earlier you had been confused about Stoicism, now you were confused because of entirely different reasons. ”In what way would my fist meeting your nose count as a valuable experience?” 

”Your fist preferably meeting as far away from my nose as possible but still within the frame of my face would teach me about the pain I haven’t felt yet. It would also prepare me, incase I unintentionally provoke someone who’s into punching.”

You just stared at him for a moment. ”You’re not funny.”

Minho stared back. ”I wasn’t trying to be.”

It was currently the last hours of the day and you had after a lot of begging towards your teacher been allowed to spend them in the library to study, though as soon as you had sat down and Minho had joined you at the table you knew you weren’t going to get a lot of work done. What you didn’t know, however, was that he was going to distract you with weird punching questions and theories that must be some sort of joke. His stoic expression made it hard to tell though. ”Have you ever unintentionally provoked someone who’s into punching before?” You frowned. 

You saw Minho fighting a smile as he looked down at the books in front of him and turned a page as if he was reading. ”No, that would mean I would have already been punched. But, I think I might be on my way right now.”.

You gaped at him. ”I don’t like punching!”

”I know that what you did to Jisung wasn’t just a false rumor.” Minho said as he glanced up at you, still trying not to smile.

You frowned as you recalled the memory of punching Jisung in the face. It was a long story that contained a lot of misunderstanding on both sides that eventually lead to you punching Jisung in the face. Again, it was all just a lot of misunderstanding, no grudge.  ”That wasn’t enjoyable.” 

Minho turned a page. ”He told me you smiled while doing it.” 

”Because he cracked a joke right before I did it. And besides, I didn’t mean for it to be so hard. I felt as much pain as he did afterward.” 

”And I’m guessing it wasn’t moral pain.” This time he couldn’t hold back his smile and you felt yourself getting irritated, though you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the bickering. It was a lot more fun than studying the Stoic philosophy. 

”Yeah, you know what, I’ll gladly punch you in the face and give you a valuable experience.”

This time Minho stopped fake reading his book and looked up at you with raised eyebrows and a wide smile, as if you punching him in the face was his only wish in the world. ”Okay, just try to aim as far away from my nose as possible.”

”You don’t get to personally design the punch.” You frowned at him. ”It’ll end up where it ends up.”

Minho laughed as he looked down at the book again. ”Alright, sounds good.”

You looked at him in confusion as he started reading. Was that it? ”So…” you began. ”When-  when would you like me to punch you in the face?”

”Are you free after school?” 

You looked down at your watch. It was forty-minutes until you both finished for the day and from what you could remember you didn’t have anything planned afterward. ”Yeah, that works.”

Minho nodded as his eyes were still strained on the words in his book. ”Cool.”

”Okay, so I’ll punch you in the face after school then.” You said, still feeling as confused as ever. Minho only nodded again and you stared at him where he sat across from you. The sun was shining in through the window, wrapping around Minho where he sat across from you as another breeze passed through the window, ruffling his hair. ”You’re weird, you know that right?” You said, your words sounding way too soft for your liking. 

Minho looked up at you, a smile playing on his lips. ”Doesn’t that make me very intriguing?”

You didn’t answer as Minho looked down at his book again. Only in your head did you admit that he indeed was intriguing, though not because he went around and asked people to punch him in the face. That, you considered more dumb than alluring. 

But you couldn’t deny that Minho interested you and that he had honestly done that for quite some time now. You had known Minho for quite a long time, though your friendship didn’t really reach beyond conversation at school and sometimes seeing each other during free hours if Minho had asked you for an odd favor, like punching him in the face. One time he had asked you to help him put on a temporary tattoo of Spiderman without explanation, something you had after a lot of questions and bickering agreed on.

Because, even though Minho asked for weird favors, he did intrigue you… like a lot. You had never really imagined there being anything more between you and Minho, but you still couldn’t deny that when you actually really thought about it, it did stir some butterflies in your stomach. 

That’s why - as you tried to look down at your books and do what you had promised your teacher you would do - you actually felt a little excited and nervous about seeing Minho after school, even though your plans was to punch him in the face. That’s why you also made a silent promise to really try and not hit him in the nose. 

Forty minutes passed rather quickly after that, the rest of the time filled with silence as you both tried to study. If it wasn’t for Minho suddenly slamming his book shut, so hard the entire table rattled, you would have probably not even noticed the time.

”You ready to throw a fist into this beautiful face of mine?” You looked up at Minho as you started to pack all your stuff. He was smiling at you, still making it seem like Christmas was coming early. 

You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you got on to your feet and followed Minho as he started walking out of the library. ”Just as ready as I hope you are to sport a bruise tomorrow.” 

”Won’t it be sexy though?” Minho asked as he looked over his shoulder at you. ”It will be super mysterious and everyone will be like oh, I wonder what he did, he must be a sexy bad boy.” 

You snorted. ”Are you asking me to punch you in the face so that you will look like a sexy bad boy?” 

”Nah, it will just be part of the experience.” Minho said as the two of you walked out onto the parking lot in front of your school, the afternoon sunlight filling it with warm light.

”The ever so valuable experience. You truly know how to live life to the fullest Minho,” You said as the two of you came to a halt. ”So, where do you want this to take place? I say we do it without an audience, so the parking lot is a no.” You nodded your head towards your fellow classmates making their way home. 

”Do you like bad boys?” Minho asked, completely ignoring your question. 

”Sure,” you said. ”Now, where would you like this punch to take place?”

”How about in the park at the next block? It’s close to the convenience store so you can buy me ice cream after.” Minho said as you nodded.

”Why would I buy you an ice cream?” You asked as the two of you started walking side by side away from the school and towards the park he had mentioned, your arms occasionally brushing against each other. 

Minho smiled as he looked over at you and you felt your breathing hitch as you saw how the sun shone around him, giving the illusion of a Gloria around his head. ”I think you would owe me that after you punched me in the face.” 

You snorted as you rolled your eyes and lifted your hand to slightly hit him on his arm. ”Is that what this is all about? Free ice cream?”

”Once again, all part of the experience.” He said and you only rolled your eyes as you approached the assigned punching spot.

The two of you stopped by one of the trees further into the park, casting a shadow over you as you threw your backpack to the ground. You turned to Minho with raised eyebrows as he shook his arms as if getting ready for what’s to come. This was probably the weirdest thing you had ever done with another boy. ”So are you ready?” You asked. You didn’t exactly know how to get things like this started.

Minho started jumping up and down as he took a couple of deep breaths. ”As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You flexed your fingers as you continued looking at him with raised eyebrows. ”I still can’t tell if you’re serious or not.” 

”Like I said, I’m all about valuable experiences. I’m a hundred percent serious,” Minho said as he stopped jumping. ”Just… try to avoid my nose.”

You shook your head. ”You are absolutely crazy,” Though maybe you’re the craziest one since you agreed to this. ”Okay, here we go, on the count of three.”

”One,” You said while you slightly shook your own hands as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. ”Two,” Waking up today you did not think you would be punching Lee Minho in the face. But, you weren’t one to back out of a promise, so you took one last deep breath before you raised your fist and swung it towards Minho. You realized halfway through your swung that you, first of all, had forgotten to count to three and second of all, that you had applied way too much force and that you could only pray that you would hit something like his chin.

It was ironic though. Your fist hit him straight in the nose.

 ”Holy fuck!” You exclaimed as soon as your fist hit Minho, making him stumble backward as his hands flew up to his nose. The pain you felt in your own hand was crazy and you shook it as you stalked towards Minho. ”Are you okay?”

Minho said something but his hands covering his nose made it hard to make out. You carefully placed your arms on his shoulders and guided him to sit down by the tree. ”Gosh Minho, I’m so sorry. I really tried to keep as far away from the nose as possible.” 

As he sat down, Minho only shook is head in a way you think meant don’t worry about it. However, the drops of blood you spotted underneath his hand really did nothing to ease your worry and embarrassment. ”Wait here,” you said as you got up on your feet. ”I’ll go and get napkins and something cold to put over your nose.” 

You didn’t wait for him to answer, instead, you quickly reached for the wallet in your bag and with fast steps headed over to the convenience store next to the park. As the cold air of the store greeted you, you couldn’t believe what you had just done. Sure, Minho had for some reason asked you to do it, but that didn’t mean you actually had to do it. You could have thought about what a bad idea it was and ignored Minho constantly repeating that it would be a valuable experience and said no.

You could only shake your head at yourself as you quickly went around the store and picked up the things you needed to tend Minho. As you paid for the stuff you truly hoped Minho liked the strawberry ice cream you had picked out for him, maybe that would ease your shame a little.

When you returned back Minho was sitting with his eyes closed and his back against the tree. ”Feeling better?” You asked as you sat down in front of him, immediately digging through the plastic bag with the logo of the convince store printed across it. 

”I’m feeling fantastic, what an experience.” Minho said and you had to bite back a smile as you instructed him to lean his head back as he closed his eyes again. You pulled out napkins and a water bottle from the bag and carefully started to wash away the blood. 

Though it was totally the most inconvenient time, you couldn’t help the butterflies as you carefully scooted closer to Minho and with a wet napkin started to wipe away any trace of your punch. It certainly didn’t help when he suddenly opened his eyes to look at you attentively. You tried to ignore his stare as you focused really hard on your hand and its movements. ”I saw the ice cream.” He suddenly said and you met his eyes, though you quickly looked away back to your hand. 

”Those were for me.” 

”Yeah right,” Minho snorted, though he instantly regretted it as he winced at the pain. ”Admit it, you feel bad.”

”Gosh, of course, I do Minho. Contrary to your weird beliefs, I don’t enjoy punching people.” You said as you finished up, the blood all gone. Carefully, you scooted away from him as you handed him another napkin to stuff in his nose, followed by a bag of ice to put over it. 

”Why did you agree on it then?” He asked as you sat down next to him.

”I think a better question would be why the heck you would even ask me to do it in the first place,” You said. ”And don’t tell me it was because of valuable experiences. That can’t be the reason.”

Minho smiled as he looked out over the park and for a moment it was only the wind ruffling the leaves of the tree you were sitting under that could be heard. ”I’m sorry if this is totally coming out of the blue but,” He carefully turned to look at you as he lowered the ice to meet your eyes. ”Honestly, I just needed a reason to hang out with you. I don’t know if it’s been obvious but… I like you. That’s why I always asked you to do stupid stuff for me, like the Spiderman tattoo.”

For a moment you could only gape at him. What an absolute idiot. Was that the reason? Though it was probably the most idiotic thing you had ever heard, you couldn’t deny your heart picking up in speed. ”Are you serious?” You asked, slightly breathless. ”Why didn’t you ask me out like a normal person?”

”I don’t know?” Minho shrugged. ”Because I was scared? I don’t know, you might say no and then punch me in the face?”

”Well, now I’ve punched you in the face regardless.” You couldn’t believe that he was confessing like this. It wasn’t the most romantic confession and you couldn’t help but laugh at the premise of it all. 

Minho raised the ice pack back to his nose. ”Maybe you should punch me more so you can tend my wounds afterward. That was rather romantic don’t you think?” He said as if reading your thoughts. 

”If you ever try to make me punch you in the face again I’ll never talk to you again.”

”But you did enjoy it a little, right?” He asked as he leaned towards you, your arms pressing together.

”I would have enjoyed it more if you didn’t confess right after. Now it’ll sound like I’m saying that I like you too out of pity rather than the fact that I really, really do.”

Minho looked over at you as he once again lowered the ice and you met his eyes with a small smile, cringing inwardly at the sight of his nose starting to bruise. ”So you’re saying you like me too.”

You nodded as you reached beside you for the plastic bag and pulled up the ice cream. ”Yes, of course, I do. I like you to Minho.”

You handed the ice cream to him as you both smiled at each other, both taking in what had just happened this past hour. It was hilarious and dumb and yet probably a moment you’d somehow cherish forever.

The sun was shining in over the park, wrapping you both into warm and light as you felt Minho’s fingers snake around your own and you carefully lowered your head onto his shoulder.

”Wait a minute,” you suddenly said as you quickly lifted your head again, knocking Minho in the shin in the process. You stared blankly at him. ”Is this also the reason you asked to bleach your eyebrows that one time?”

[kimmyiewrites]

Case Closed ~ Chpt 8

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AN: The chapter I think you’ve all been waiting for. Well hopefully anyways. This is the second to last chapter that I’ve posted and well we’re definitely not done yet. We’re close, but not yet. Hope you enjoy!

“Looks like you’re going to meet the whole gang.” Mike murmured to Bex as he waved to Laurel through the conference room window. “Come find me after you’re done and I’ll walk with you back towards your office.” He smiled, giving her shoulder a squeeze and waving towards Laurel before leaving.

Bex wanted to tell him that she didn’t need an escort but given the circumstances, she could see why he wanted to make sure she got back safely. Even if she understood, didn’t mean she stopped the small sigh from escaping as she followed Laurel to the conference room. “I take it, that offer’s not normal?” Laurel asked her.

Bex chuckled, shaking her head a bit. “No, it’s not but after the case I just got back from, I can see why his protective side is a bit more on display.”

“I got to admit, it’s a bit weird to see. I’ve really only experienced when he’s working.” She slightly lied but Bex didn’t need to know that.

The blonde shrugged. “We promised to always watch each other’s back so this isn’t my first time seeing it but I am surprised he showed it so freely. He usually likes to keep things compartmentalized.” Bex too lied but Laurel didn’t need to know that.

Laurel introduced Bex to Rochelle and Gustav before they all sat at the table. Bex did her best to not focus on the intense stare Gustav was giving her so she hoped that she could win him over at some point. He seemed the most skeptical of her presence than the other two in the room. “So I know that the DEA and the FDA aren’t happy with this blood pressure medication cover up of these incidents. The FBI is looking into it being a potential terrorist attack but there’s nothing really backing that theory up so I’ve been brought in as a fresh pair of eyes to see if there’s anything else we can look into.”

“You’re not finding anything because you’re helping to cov -” Gustav began before Rochelle hit his chest, making him stop.

“We have been looking into other options since my father wasn’t on any of those medications and wouldn’t have been involved in anything that the FBI is looking into. However, the options we’re looking at, others have dismissed or simply laughed at despite some evidence.” Rochelle further explained.

“I just caught a serial killer who would kill to help tell stories to his dead children. Nothing can phase me.” Bex said, hoping they would tell her their theory.

All three just looked at her, eyes wide and mouths slightly open. “Damn.” Gustav breathed out before nudging Rochelle. He couldn’t even be upset that they brought someone from the homicide unit to investigate this.

Laurel’s shocked look quickly turned into one of amazement. Here this woman was having faced a serial killer head on. She looked across to Rochelle and nodded her head. Bex could be brought into their bug theory.

“Right, well, have you ever heard of the screw worm?” Rochelle asked and after Bex shook her head, the doctor launched into their theory even showing the blonde their CT scans.

“So if a person is deaf in one ear, has bad balance, has an extreme personality switch and listens to The Cars, this bug is living in their head?” Bex asked to clarify.

All three of them nodded causing Bex to sigh. This was certainly a different case. She would have to get the assignment specifics from Mike to make sure she wouldn’t be dismissed as these three had been. She knew they were looking into potentially taking the meteor to Area 51 but this was truly on a whole other level.

“Well, I certainly don’t know if I can take this to someone higher up just yet but, here’s what I can do. I would like to be in on any further investigations that you three may conduct on your own. I know the last time you had someone with a badge helping, it didn’t work so well but I can get around some things because of it.” She then reached into her suit pocket and pulled out three business cards. Bex scribbled her cell phone number on the back and passed them out. “If anything comes up, anything at all, give me a call.”

She bid them farewell and walked back up to Mike’s office. This time she actually listened to the secretary and sat in the lobby, waiting for him to come out. As she waited, she heard the conversation grow louder and louder until she heard Mike’s voice above it all. She stood, opening the door despite the secretary’s rebuttals. All eyes turned on her but all she focused on was Mike. She gave a warm smile as she took a step in. “Everything alright?”

“Thank you.” Mike mouthed before addressing the group. “Alright, that’s it for today. Have a good night.” Everyone stood, grumbling as they left his office. Bex moved out of the way, watching them with wide eyes as she caught bits and pieces of what they were saying.

“One Wayers?” She asked once the door was closed.

“Yes, and I swear they’re getting worse. If that’s even possible.” Mike chuckled, shaking his head. “How’d things go downstairs?”

“They went really well. Walk and talk?” She motioned with her head towards his door.

Mike stood, buttoning his blazer and followed Bex out. “I’m stepping away. I’ll be back in thirty.” He told the secretary as they passed her.

“So you definitely have an Area 51 case on your hands.” Bex said once they were outside of the Capitol before launching into what all she learned. “I told them to keep me in the loop and to contact me if anything happened. Do you need me to tell Marchant or how do you want me to proceed?”

Mike couldn’t believe what Bex was saying. He had practically dismissed the Area 51 claim but now? “Well, I guess we need to make sure the meteor gets to the desert then. What are we supposed to do about those already infected?”

Bex shrugged. “Let me keep looking into it and then we can figure something out from there. They could lead normal lives after they’re bug free. We don’t really know at this point. Do you think I should go check on this thing at the CDC?”

Mike shook his head. “No, leave it be. They could figure out something that we couldn’t do on our own even if we are working with Area 51.”

“You got it.” Bex agreed to not reach out to the CDC. They would know things quicker that way anyway since it seemed like this epidemic was being covered up already.

“You know, we never really got to celebrate.” Mike said after a moment. “What’re your thoughts on ice cream for dinner?” He didn’t know why he couldn’t just come right out and ask her on a date. He felt like currently this wasn’t the best time. So small things like walking her back to the office or having a celebratory meal together was the closest he could do.

“My thoughts are that it’s the best kind of dinner you can have.” She smiled over at him. “Meet at six?”

“Let’s do seven just in case Red gets a little needy once I get back.” He chuckled.

“Seven it is then.” She smiled at him before stepping away from his side so she could continue her way into the building.

A few minutes before she planned to leave to meet Mke, Marchant’s secretary told her that he wanted to see her in his office. Bex agreed, hoping that it would be quick. She didn’t want to be late. Sure it wasn’t a date, it couldn’t be even if she wanted it to be. Things were a bit hectic right now and surely Mike only saw her as a coworker and friend.

Blades and Onofrio were already in Marchant’s office and she nearly got a sense of deja vu. “Ah, Morris, thank god. Please tell me you’re up to date on this case.” Marchant said when he noticed her walk in.

“I am. What’s going on here?” She asked, stepping in between Onofrio and Blades.

“Senator Wheatus is demanding a report tomorrow and I need to know what’s going on.”

“Well, it’s certainly not terroism, I can tell you that.” Bex answered.

“Thank you. So we need to look at different avenues.” Blades pushed. Bex briefly wondered if Marchant had informed the others of Mike’s involvement and just what a different avenue the two of them were looking at. Then again it seemed even within the intelligence agencies Area 51 was a bit laughable.

“Did we question some hill staffer named Lana Healy?” Marchant asked.

“Laurel, Laurel Healy and yes we did. I think we should bring her in for more tough questioning.” Onofrio answered.

“What?”

“Are you insane?”

The other two agents said at the same time. Bex certainly didn’t like the implications behind Onofrio’s offer. “There’s no need for that. I’ve made contact today and with the help of Warren, I’m going to get some more actionable information.” She argued.

“Besides, she’s the sister of a senator.” Blades explained causing Marchant to sigh.

“Let me handle Wheatus. Senators like to talk tough. We’ll reconvene tomorrow.” Marchant motioned for them to leave.

Blades patted Bex on the shoulder as he passed her to head to his desk while she could feel Onofrio’s glare. She rolled her eyes as she gathered her things to go meet Mike.

When she got there, a cup filled with cookies and creme was sitting in the spot across from him. The meeting had caused her to run a few minutes behind but she hadn’t expected him to buy her dinner when she let him know. “You didn’t have to do that.” She voiced her thoughts even though a smile was on her face.

Mike just shrugged. “I wanted to.” He smiled back at her before taking a bite.

“I appreciate it.” She thanked him before she took a bite of her own.

“I know this is for a celebration but I could get used to this.” Mike chuckled.

“We’ll definitely have to do at least weekly dinners now that I’m home.” Bex agreed.

“That is something I can most definitely get behind.” Mike nodded his head, taking another bite.

“So your senator apparently wants a report on things tomorrow.” Bex said in between bites.

“What? Why?”

Bex just shrugged a bit. “I’ll know more tomorrow but I don’t think he knows about you not actually being a hill staffer.”

Mike nodded, relieved that was the case. If Red was wanting a report though, he needed to make sure he had Bex’s cover story down. Not to mention, he wanted to know how she came up with it. “So, you’re an art curator, huh?”

Bex laughed. “Yeah, that’s my go to cover. I know just enough about what’s in the Smithsonian to pass plus it helps in case I need to travel somewhere. If I don’t have a preplanned in or if I’m working a case and I’m approached by a civilian that’s what I use.”

“Damn, I just use the pilot story.” Mike laughed, Bex soon joining in.

“Oh, c’mon, you could be a little more creative than that.” She teased him.

“I did until the girl’s father was actually a pro golfer.”

Bex gasped before giggling. “No! That’s hilarious!”

Mike chuckled. “Yeah, so I’ve flown a couple different airlines, mainly the small ones and not the same ones as any flight attendants.”

She just shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I can see that. What’s your favorite place to fly to?” She asked, teasing him a bit.

“Definitely anywhere in Italy.” He answered easily, a charming smirk in place. “And what’s your favorite period?” He then asked her.

“Art Nouveau.” She said in between spoonfuls of ice cream.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised by that.”

“What did you think it was?”

“Romanticism.”

Bex smiled softly. “It is one of my favorite periods but something about the whimsical feeling of Art Nouveau makes it my all time favorite.”

“Hey, Bex?” Mike spoke up after a few moments of companionable silence. “We’ll still talk all the time when you transfer, right?” He honestly wasn’t sure if he would have survived the transfer back to DC without her. Not to mention how he could possibly not even be an agent anymore without her. He knew that she’d be travelling more once the transfer would go through and he didn’t want to lose one of the few genuine people he had met since graduating from the academy.

A small, reassuring smile graced her features. “Of course. We only travel when we’re asked to consult on a case so I’ll still be nearby a good bit. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Now, this was supposed to be celebratory so no more sad talk.” She gave him a pointed look before standing and offering out her hand.

She smiled and wiggled her fingers. “C’mon, we have a couple of stops to make first.”

Amused, Mike placed his hand in hers and followed her out of the ice cream shop. “So where are we going?”

“To get liquor and baking supplies.” She grinned.

Bex led them to get a couple bottles of flavored vodka along with the supplies she would need for the jelly filled croissants that started their friendship. Once they got to her kitchen, Mike became bartender and Bex began making the croissants with a boozy flair.

“Have they always had vodka in them?” Mike asked as he hopped up onto the counter, out of the way. He had already given her her cola mixed with the whipped cream flavored vodka. There had been a little left after he had poured and after tasting the interesting combination, he had made one for himself.

She laughed, shaking her head as she mixed the vanilla vodka and strawberry jam together. “No, these are special.” She grinned as she started to spread the jam into the croissants.

Once the croissants were in the oven, she picked up her glass and clinked it with Mike’s. She sipped on it as she went to the bowl she planned to make her icing in. She poured in the powdered sugar, then the milk, and lastly some of the vanilla vodka. She didn’t follow precise measurements, wanting to make sure that they also had enough to taste test before she drizzled it over the croissants.

She held out the bowl once the icing was at a consistency she was pleased with. “Go on and give it a taste.” She smiled.

Mike shook his head. “I’ll lick the bowl clean after you’re done.” He said with a smile.

She just shrugged, swiping a finger through the icing before licking it off. “You’re loss.” She teased him with a slight smirk.

With the croissants done, Bex drizzled the icing over them before passing the bowl over to Mike who happily took care of the remaining bit. He hopped down from the counter and placed it into the sink once he was done. “We don’t have to wait too much longer until they’re cool enough to eat do we?” He asked, leaning against the counter next to Bex as she mixed herself another drink.

She shook her head before turning towards him, bringing her drink to her lips when she noticed a bit of icing on the corner of his lips. “Hey, Mike,” she giggled, “you got a little something.” She pointed to the corner on her mouth.

He slowly reached up and swiped at the spot, coming away with the small bit of frosting that was there. “Oh, thanks.” He chuckled.

Bex smiled as she ripped off two pieces from her paper towel roll so she could place a croissant on each. Mike smiled his thanks as he took the one she offered him. “To Hailey and everyone else who can finally rest in peace.” Mike said, raising his pastry.

“To Hailey.” Bex replied bumping her croissant with his. A bittersweet smile graced her lips before she took a bite. They were celebrating closing a case. She could be sad later but for right now she was extremely grateful, not only for the BAU but for the man who was standing next to her. He had risked his own case in order to come out and help her. Despite them currently working on different cases they had had each other’s backs. Not to mention how much care he’s shown her since then. Mike Warren was really something else.

Mike’s chuckling brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him from where she had briefly zoned out, eyebrows raised. “It seems like we’re both in the habit of saving things for later.” He leaned in and used his thumb to swipe away the jam that was at the corner of her bottom lip.

He thought briefly to offer the bit to her. He looked up to her eyes from her lips and noticed that she seemed to be staring at his. Knowing she had been caught her eyes moved up to meet his, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. They didn’t move and neither one of them could exactly remember their excuses for not asking the other out.

Licking his thumb clean, he watched as her eyes drifted down to his lips again. It seemed now or never but it also seemed like they had all the time in the world. He hadn’t scared her away yet and he had thought about kissing her since she had helped him with his detox. “I know if we look back on this moment,” he started, moving so he could be closer to her, “we’ll realize how incredibly cheesy this is but all I really want to do right now is kiss you.”

His words startled her briefly, she looked back up to his eyes and noticed they were looking towards her lips. It seemed like their typical balance had shifted and she didn’t feel the need to scramble to get it back. No, it felt right. “Then do it.”

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t heated or like a dam had fallen. No, it was sweet. It was breathtaking and full of trust. Mike closed the gap between them, cupping her jaw as he first placed a tentative kiss to her lips. Then he placed a more sure one before they entered into a lazy dance together. They soaked in the feeling of what it felt like to hold and to be held by the other. They took their time exploring this new feeling as the relief of them still being here washed over them. They both had moments since Mike had come back to DC where they thought they had lost each other but here they were in Bex’s kitchen kissing each other as the pastries that brought them together originally grew cold and just took in the moment.

A small moan escaped Bex’s lips as she was pressed against the counter. Not wanting to go too fast, Mike pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “I want nothing more than to spend the night but I think I should head home. I just don’t want to rush things because the last time that happened things didn’t end well.” He explained, thinking back to Paige.

Bex smiled reassuringly, reaching up to caress his cheek. “As long as we don’t go backwards, I’m perfectly fine with however fast or slow you want to go.”

Easily returning her smile, he lowered his head to give her a sweet kiss.

[nadziejastar]

The Icing on the Cake

The wayfinder trio’s story arc was handled pretty well in KH3. The main concept of their relationship was their unbreakable connection, which was connected to the stars. They would look up at the stars, thinking of each other. No matter where they went, they would always find their way back to each other. 

The stars meant a lot to the wayfinder trio because no matter where they were, they were always underneath the same stars.

And Terra told Aqua that she was always lighting his way back. Their reunion had a lot of thematic resonance. It felt like it was planned many years in advance. That’s what made their story well-written.

Axel’s main priority in KH3 was bringing Roxas back, but it didn’t really have much thematic resonance, if you ask me. The entire concept of Axel’s character was “memory”. Got it memorized? Like with the stars, Axel is very nostalgic about the sunset, due to his memories of the past. 

And Axel’s relationship with Roxas in KH3 didn’t really tie into this theme that well. His relationship with Ventus actually had a lot more thematic resonance.

But the story dropped the ball hard on that one. Lea recognized Ventus as Roxas, and was hoping that Ventus recognized him as Axel. But...he didn’t. Lea was visibly disappointed. This would have been the perfect time for them to have a heartfelt reunion. But the scene had almost no impact at all because Lea and Ventus were practically strangers, despite their relationship having so much thematic significance. In the end, their meeting was pretty pointless.

Lea’s reunion with Roxas was saved for the final battle. But the scene didn’t feel like it belonged there. It didn’t resonate with the themes of Lea’s character arc. It had nothing to do with “memory”. Unlike Ventus and Aqua’s reunion with Terra, the Keyblade Graveyard didn’t feel like it was planned to be the place for Lea to reunite with Roxas. Compared to the wayfinder trio, the sea-salt trio’s reunion was awkward, out of place, and poorly written.

On the other hand, Lea’s fight with Isa did tie into this concept of “memory”. Isa was possessed, and it seemed like he forgot about his friendship with Lea a long time ago. Their final battle was all about how they never forgot each other. The Keyblade Graveyard felt like it was supposed to be about Lea’s reunion with Isa, not Roxas and Xion.

Everything about Lea and Isa’s relationship revolved around the theme of “memory”. In Birth by Sleep, there is an extremely happy and innocent song called Eternal Moments. It only plays during the scene where Ventus meets Lea and Isa. It’s pretty much Lea’s theme. It also plays a few times during KH3. 

The song that plays during most of the sea-salt ice cream moments in 358/2 Days is called At Dusk, I Will Think of You… It’s basically a more melancholy version of “Eternal Moments”. It’s pretty much Axel’s theme in the game. Axel was always, ALWAYS wishing to go back to the past. Sea-salt ice cream and the sunset always reminded him of that. To Axel, the sunset was his star, and ice cream was his wayfinder.

The first chapter of the Days manga was called “The Ice Cream That Started It All”. 

At the end of the chapter, Roxas started remembering things after Axel took him out for ice cream. 

The sun sank lower and lower as Axel watched, his mind wandering. If he stared for too long, the image would burn itself into his eyes, visible even after his eyes were closed. A phantom sun. Someone had once told him why sunsets were red… Who was that?

Roxas was eating ice cream with Axel when he brought up his first week. Ice cream = memories. Axel remembered the reason why the sunset was red on this day.

In KH2, one of the early chapters is called “Sea-Salt Ice Cream”.

It starts off with the kids eating ice cream. Pence calls it a simple pleasure before he wonders if they will always be together, which Hayner says is impossible. 

Simple pleasures are experiences that are brief, positive, emerge in everyday settings, and are accessible to most people at little or no cost. 

It’s like the saying “the best things in life are free”. Kinda cheesy, like something off a fortune cookie. But it’s still a nice message.

Roxas: I could have done that blindfolded.

Axel: Ha ha! I dunno if I want a blindfolded zombie on the loose. All right, smart aleck, you did good. And no successful mission is complete without a little icing on the cake. C'mon.

On their mission together, when Roxas acts self-aware for the first time, Axel gave sea-salt ice cream to him as a reward for working hard.

In KH2, the kids were broke. But they worked really hard to save up enough money to go to the beach. Of course, the money was stolen so they never got to go. 

They had to settle for the simple pleasure of eating ice cream together. And they were fine with that.

The trip to the beach was all about creating memories, since they couldn’t be together forever.

The message is, it’s not the cost of the trip that was valuable, it’s the memories they created together. 

Eating ice cream is cheap. It isn’t exactly as exciting as going to the beach, but it doesn’t have to be. The memories of the people you’re eating it with are more important. That’s why Axel stole a lot of Hayner’s dialogue in Days. It was all about the theme of “memories”.

"C'mon, C'mon, stop by and try some! It's a sweet and salty mysterious ice cream!"

“What’s that?” Lea ran up to check it out.

“Hullo, there, laddie. Would you like one?” 

“I’m…guessing they aren’t free?” Lea asked, jamming a hand into his pocket. 

Scrooge hopped up and yelled, “Of course not! Are ye daft?!” 

When Lea was a kid, he didn’t have a lot of money, either. He was even hoping the ice cream Scrooge was offering was free.

For a little bit, Lea was deep in thought. Scrooge held the ice cream in his hands. "Then I'll have one....no, two!" “Thank ye kindly!” 

Lea paid the munny, took the two ice popsicles from Scrooge, and handed one to Isa.

He was broke, but he still bought Isa an ice cream, too. There’s a reason I think the localization used the term “icing on the cake” for Axel’s sea-salt ice cream ritual.

"It's cold....." Isa mumbled, nibbling at the ice cream. "Whaddya mean, it's ice cream so of course it is, got it memorized?" ".....moreover, it's salty." "But sweet!" As Lea went on, Isa smiled just a bit. It's rare to see Isa smile. But, well, friendship means eating ice cream together, talking about stupid things, and laughing like this.

Icing on the cake is defined as an attractive but inessential addition or enhancement. It’s the not the main attraction. It’s just something extra that makes a good thing even better.

“Why, look at that, you’re a winner! Congratulations!” 

“‘Congratulations’…?” It was a new word to Roxas. Was that what he’d won? 

“You get another ice cream, on the house,” she told him. 

“Um, how much?” He didn’t know what “on the house” meant, either. But he had heard that one could get things in exchange for munny or for hearts. 

“No, no, it’s free. You won! Have you got a friend you’d like to treat?”

A WINNER stick gives you a free ice cream. It literally costs nothing. It’s the epitome of a simple pleasure.

Day 357: To My Best Friend

Author: Axel

Roxas left. It’s so like him to just leave that WINNER ice cream stick behind. Come tomorrow, I’ll probably get the order to hunt him down, but leaving that here makes it feel so permanent. I wish the three of us—three? No. That the two of us could share some ice cream again someday. That’s what it is to be friends.

My impression was that Isa was the type of person who didn’t care what activity he was doing. The ice cream was just extra—the icing on the cake. It was nice, but it wasn’t even necessary.

“Precisely, Roxas. That is no ordinary rose. To him, at least, it seems to hold more value than all the castle’s riches.”

As long he spent time with Lea, that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter if they were broke or not. Day 193 is even called “Memories”. And Axel brings up eating ice cream. To him, that’s what it meant to be best friends.

“So, okay, say you don’t need a heart for things to be important to you… Maybe the closest thing we Nobodies have is our pasts. It’s the memories that give things value.”

“Memories…,” Roxas mumbled at his lap. “Well, I don’t remember my past, so I guess that explains it.” 

Axel pondered that for a few seconds before suggesting, “What about your present, though?” 

Roxas looked up. Somehow, he hadn’t expected to hear that from Axel. “Huh?” 

“You’ve got your memories since you joined up with the Organization, right? There must be something special to you there.” 

“I dunno…” Memories…? Roxas didn’t have any from when he was human. But he did remember his time with the Organization so far.

My theory is that Isa was Subject X. He had amnesia after Lea reunited with him in Twilight Town. They were going to start over and create a new life and new memories together. Since Isa had no memories of his past, Lea wanted them to do something memorable together, so he thought of going to the beach. 

Other than being told today’s mission, I didn’t really do anything yesterday. Maybe in reality it’d even be okay to have called it a day off. A holiday…

“Didn’t get to go in the end,” muttered Axel, and he got up.

Today I have to destroy Roxas. I cannot betray the organization.

From the little shelf at his bedside, Axel took a white envelope, and looked at it vaguely for a while. Putting it in his pocket, Axel got up off the bed and left the room.

They probably didn’t get to stay in Twilight Town that long, though. Probably just 7 days, if I had to guess. They never got to go to the beach. Probably didn’t have the munny.

Axel thrust his hand into his pocket, and took out the white envelope.

The memories of me and Roxas haven’t faded away. For now, that’s just fine.

“…Really feel like some ice cream,” Axel muttered, watching the sunset absently.

We were always together with the sunset. We talked about all kinds of things in that place. I think it’d be good if we could talk and eat ice cream there again someday. Now, there’s nothing but that. I only hope for that.

The setting sun was shining on Axel.

They spent quality time in Twilight Town, but then they realized they weren’t even safe there. They had nowhere to run from Xehanort. 

He didn’t really understand the “icing” part, except that it was ice cream. Like Winner, though, it meant something special. So when Axel came back, Roxas would use the freebie and get him some “icing.”

They were out of time, so they decided to commit suicide together. Isa was grateful for the memories Lea was able to give him, even if the were just simple pleasures like ice cream. 

That meant a lot to Lea. He said that inside people’s memories, he could live forever. 

So, as long as they remembered each other, they’d never be apart. They promised to see each other again in the next life.

Everything about Lea and Isa had thematic resonance, even if KH3 dropped the ball on them badly. It felt like Lea’s entire character arc for the whole Xehanort Saga revolved around his past with Isa. Everything he did with Roxas and Xion involved his past with Isa.

I can’t really think of anything about Roxas and Axel’s relationship in KH3 that had thematic resonance. He just showed up out of nowhere and barely even interacted with Axel afterwards. It really felt like their reunion during the final battle wasn’t planned very far in advance and had very little thought put into it; like it was just shoehorned in at the last minute. Lea’s reunion with Ventus felt like it had more planning and thought put into it.

Roxas and Axel barely even acknowledge each other after Roxas comes back. The moment where Isa treats Lea to an ice cream on the clock tower had waaaay more thematic significance than any moment between Lea and Roxas. It felt like that moment was being built up for a long, long time. Practically the entire Xehanort Saga. It was the equivalent of Terra telling Aqua she was always there lighting his way back. Lea and Roxas don’t get a special moment like this.