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hawksmagnolia · 4 years ago

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Not My Name

Drunk Drabble prompt submitted to @HBC

Summary: Reader is tired of shitty sex and Clint’s constant teasing. Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands.

Who: Bucky/reader

Word count: 1,412

Warnings: It’s smut yo. And swearing. And more smut.

Authors Note: Thank you anon for the awesome prompt! I hope you enjoy it. -xo- Allie

“Hey little girl, you got eyes on them?”

“Call me little girl again and I’m going to kick your ass Barton.” I mumbled into the comm.

Clint scoffed. “As if.”

Rolling my eyes, I adjusted my binoculars. “Yeah, I got them. Does Steve know that he’s got a rip in his pants just south of his left ass cheek?”

There was a choked sound and I smirked. Clint was to my left and three stories higher because he wasn’t happy unless there was nothing between him and the sky. Barnes was a building over, a lurking shadow at the steps to a nearby building. Barnes never joined in with Clint and I as we passed time on jobs like this. We had to do something, sometimes we were stuck in position for hours and too much time alone means you start talking to pigeons. Steve had made us stay on our own channel although Barnes could override it if shit went sideways.

“So, how’d your date go last night?”

“Can you not Clint?”

“Hey, I’m your friend. And friends are allowed to ask why your date left looking well and truly fucked and you were a cranky bitch at breakfast this morning. Did he fail too?”

Groaning, I smacked the heel of my hand on my forehead. “I should have never told you that. Ever.”

“I’m just saying, I am totally willing to take a chance at making your dreams come true.”

“You’re a pig.”

Clint laughed. “I am, but you love me anyways. But seriously, this is what- guy number 4 who can’t fuck you to climax with just his cock? Your taste in men sucks.”

“Thanks ever so much Clint for reminding me of that.”

There was a quiet click and a hiss. “Do you two ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nope. What’s wrong Barnes? Feeling left out?”

“Someone has to actually pay attention, especially since we’re clear. But you two can hang out in the trees if you want to. Or maybe you should get a room.”

“Fuck off Barnes.” Clint answered cheerfully. “Race you to the truck. Loser buys Thai food on the way back to the hotel.”

========

I was standing in the bathroom in my favorite pjs (a worn hoodie from the soccer team I played on in college and a pair of boxers left behind from two boyfriends ago) towel drying my hair when someone knocked.

Puzzled, I set my towel down on the counter and padded barefoot to open the door. I was expecting to see Clint or even Steve when it swung out, but I was way off.

I was absolutely not expecting to see James Buchanan “Call me Bucky” Barnes standing there in a pair of perfectly broken in jeans and a blue henley.

I’d heard women swoon about the henleys. Now I knew why, I’d never seen anyone fill out the sleeves of one like he did. It should be illegal for a prosthetic arm to make me want to throw my underwear at him like he was a rock star.

“Barnes. Is everything okay?” I couldn’t even think of a time he’d ever graced my doorstep.

He raised and brow and smirked. “I heard you and Barton earlier.”

“Ok…you always hear us?”

He glanced down the hallway before slipping into my room and shutting the door behind him and throwing the bolt.

“Uh, Barnes? Is this some secret squirrel spy shit?”

“That’s not my name.”

“What?”

He grinned at me causing my belly to do a flip as he pushed my damp hair out of my face. “I said, that’s not my name. I’ll be damned if you’re going to yell that when I make you cum your brains out.”

Now it was my turn to swallow hard as he continued. “I said, I heard you and Barton. About how no man can get you off so I’m here to volunteer.”

Finally having recovered my wits, I was able to smirk. “Oh, how sweet. Coming to my rescue?”

“Hell no. I’m going to ruin you for any other guy.”

“Bring it Barnes.”

“I told you..” He crowded me until my knees hit the edge of the bed and I stumbled back onto it. “That’s not my name.” He brushed his jaw against mine and I was almost embarrassed how my body reacted to just him being close. Almost.

It had been way too long since a guy had made my body feel alive and being around Bucky was like touching a live wire. He caged my head with his arms and licked down the side of my neck before burying his fingers in my hair and kissing me in a smack of teeth, tongue and lips. I moaned into his mouth as he released my hair long enough to yank off my hoodie.

“Look at you, nothing but that between your skin and me.” He drew a lazy fingertip down from my collarbone and over my nipples making me cry out as they tightened. “So goddamn pretty.”

I felt like I was on fire, that my skin was too tight on my bones and could burst into flames any moment. His hands were everywhere, his mouth biting and sucking at my lips, my jaw. I finally managed to grab hold of the bottom of his henley and my fingertips brushed over his cobbled abdomen. He yanked it off in one fast motion, not wanting to leave my mouth for too long. His thigh was pressed between my thighs and I groaned at the friction, twisting as I tried to press harder against the denim.

“Not yet doll. Not yet.” I whined as he moved away from me. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of the boxers he drew them down over my legs and they joined the hoodie and henley on the floor. I stared up at him, half drowning in lust as he picked up my foot and pressed a kiss to the ankle. I whimpered as he knelt between my knees and, with no warning, buried his face into me. His nose bumped my clit as his tongue swirled over the delicate flesh. I felt him press a single finger deep into me, felt the delicious scrape of it as he curled it slightly. I was so lost in his actions that when he stopped, I immediately cried his name and he smiled.

“Oh baby, you’re going to thank me for stopping there.”

“No I won’t- dammit Bucky! Why would…oh!”

He cut me off by thrusting hard and bottoming out in me. There was nothing soft or sweet but he’d made sure I was more than ready for his cock. It burned but it was the best kind, that ache of finally having a tight muscle release and the sharp relief that comes from it. He snapped his hips, my body relishing every violent moment of it.

He shifted, propping himself up on a hand, the metal fingers of his left securing my hips in place when I tried to wiggle.

“Oh no doll. Just you and me.”

I felt like every muscle in my body was straining as I climbed, higher than I ever had before. Bucky’s cock grazed over my clit with each stroke but not enough to give me any relief. He ground his hips into mine as I fisted my hands in the sheets, my body finally releasing, soaking both of us as I flooded out weeks of sexual frustration. He grinned but didn’t relent until he started to grow sloppy and he groaned, collapsing onto me as he splashed my walls.

We laid like that for a while. I’m not sure how long. Long enough my heart to stop pounding in my ears and for our breathing to even out. He was heavy but not enough to make it uncomfortable. His head was on my chest, his eyes closed and I gently swept my finger over the dark curve of his lashes.

“You dead?”

“Mm, little bit. Need water and fifteen minutes and we can go for round two.”

“What?”

He peeked up at me and laughed. “Doll, I told you. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. Besides, can’t have you being cranky in the mornings now can we?”

I carded my fingers through his dark hair. “Absolutely not. Also Clint’s room is next door and I don’t think he heard me this time.”

“Mmm, bet he will next time.”

@the-ss-horniest-book-club

@nano--raptor @cchellacat @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @aesthetical-bucky @marvelgirl7 @sallycanwait68 @buckys-broody-muffin @softpeachbarnes @godofplumsandthunder @azurika-writes @ikaris-whore @this-kitten-is-smitten @randomfandompenguin @bucky-plums-barnes @bugsbucky @littleredstarfish @emilylyoness @hailmary-yramliah @daughterofsteven @ballyhoobarnes

#hbc extended drabbles #HBC #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #smut ahoy!#Bucky Barnes imagine

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musehyacinthus · 3 years ago

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Shoot Your Shot: Part 1

This is my first published work in over a decade, and I'm so excited to share it with everyone! Dash is my oldest and most treasured oc, and I'm so happy that I finally have the confidence to allow everyone else a peek into her life. This was originally supposed to be a short one shot, but is now going to be a 2(?) part series. I will hopefully be posting more work in the future that explores more of her background, as well as introducing some of my other oc's.

It was June, and the air was warm and sticky, which wasn’t ideal; the humidity made Dash’s hair all frizzy, and it always seemed to happen on a day when she wanted to make meringue.

This morning in particular, her eyes snapped open, bolting upright in her bed with a gasp. She had been having the most amazing dream, in which she was about to take a bite of the biggest, most beautiful lemon meringue pie she had ever seen. However, just as the fork reached her mouth, she woke up, returning to the sad reality where she did not have a mouth watering dessert in front of her. She smacked her lips, trying to recall what the pie had tasted like, but it was already gone. Tragic.

It was then that it dawned on her that she had the ingredients to bring that beautiful pie to life in the kitchen. In an instant, she rushed to her bedroom window. Maybe, if she was lucky, the weather would be on her side today. She pried open the window, a warm, thick breeze blowing against her skin. She groaned. No good; meringue wouldn’t peak in the humidity. No matter how good at baking someone is, they’re no match for mother nature. Pursing her lips, she pulled the latch shut, deciding to settle for banana bread muffins instead.

A couple of hours later, the muffins were nestled in her bag as she hopped off the trolley that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Thanks!” Dash chirped to the driver, exchanging waves with the man before she bounced away, not noticing the large, gray clouds looming on the horizon.

She clicked her tongue rhythmically as she walked, matching the beat to her steps and scanning the docks for her friend, Twitchy. The purpose of her trip had been to return a book he lent her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A group of four other teenagers had gathered nearby at the edge of the docks, crouching in a large circle on the ground. Curious, she inched forward, craning her neck to see what was going on.

As she approached, she could see they were surrounding a long piece of brown string that was tied in a circle, surrounding a cluster of marbles.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was fantastic at marbles! She always kept her own pouch on her in case of a marble emergency, which happened more often than one might think.

Now that she was closer, Dash knew the kids to be Newsies like herself from her other visits to the borough. Among the group was a short, round faced girl with glasses and hundreds of freckles who Dash remembered was named Abigail. Her curly, brown hair was pulled back into two braids, her eyebrows knit with frustration as she gazed down at the ring. There was also a pale, skinny boy with sandy, blond hair and brown eyes that Dash didn’t recognize, and a tall boy with broad shoulders and dark hair standing just behind Abigail and watching the game intently. The way he hovered over her, he seemed almost like a bodyguard. What was his name again? Something with a chuh sound…. Chuck? No. Chatter! That was it! She remembered now, she found it funny the first time she learned it because Chatter really didn’t say very much at all. He was a friendly enough guy, but he seemed to like observing and listening more than he liked talking. He and Abigail seemed to always be around one another when Dash saw them, their significant height difference almost comical. Finally, Dash’s eyes rested on the figure closest to her with their back turned. Their brown cap was pulled down low on their face as they knelt on the ground, but she could recognize those bright red suspenders anywhere. He was at an angle where she could just see that was holding a red shooter in his hand, weaving it through his fingertips thoughtfully.

Dash’s feelings toward Spot were… mixed; she could never stop herself from riling him up, and the two would often butt heads due to their wildly different personalities. Spot took himself so seriously, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. It frustrated her that he tried to make himself seem so high and mighty, and she knew the kids in Brooklyn respected him, but as far as she could tell, he was just… some guy. The way he constantly tried to have the attention of those around him was so silly, and just made him come off as a bit of a show off.

She hadn’t seen him do anything particularly intimidating, but the Newsies back in Manhattan would often go on and on about how nervous he made them. She just failed to see any real reason for their apprehension. Then again, she really hadn’t been living in New York all that long; his reputation had been around for a good while. Maybe they all knew something she didn’t.

In any case, as far as she was concerned, he was just a kid who wanted attention. That was fine, of course, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him. It was fun to challenge him, and she found herself getting extremely competitive in his presence. Of course he wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

Dash would come to Brooklyn every once in a while to exchange books with Twitchy, who she knew was pretty close with Spot. He never seemed to show any signs of being intimidated either, and was an even bigger culprit than she was when it came to pushing Spot’s buttons. He would go to great lengths to make him look silly, like the time he filled Spot’s pockets with bread crumbs and got the neighborhood pigeons to follow him around all day. There was also a time when he dressed up in the same clothes as Spot, and had bribed the other Brooklyn kids with candy to pretend that he was the real Spot for an entire day.

Dash watched as the boy she hadn’t recognized leaned forward, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. He flicked his thumb, his yellow shooter zipping forward and smacking into another large, purple marble. Both marbles rolled over the string, coming to a rest on the other side. The boy whooped with delight, and Abigail let out a cry of astonishment.

“That was a cheap shot, Sonny!” Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers at the boy. “You know I just got that marble yesterday!”

“It ain’t my fault I got good aim!” Sonny grinned, shrugging and walking over to claim the purple shooter for himself. “Sorry, toots.”

Dash thought Sonny didn’t look all that sorry.

Abigail huffed, sitting back and crossing her legs.

“Fine, whatever. Your turn, Spot.”

Spot, who had been silent the entire time, was already leaning down to shoot his own red marble. He extended his arm, appearing as still as a statue as he aimed the little glass ball toward the center.

At that moment, an idea popped into Dash’s brain. Slowly, without making a sound, she crept up behind him, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling and giving herself away. Finally, just as Spot started to release the shooter, Dash exclaimed “HI, SPOT!”

The boy let out a rather undignified yelp and his hand jerked, the marble rolling into the ring and bouncing gently on one of the mibs. It hardly budged, and Spot’s shooter halted beside it. The other three Brooklyn newsies broke out into laughter, and Spot’s shoulders tensed, turning his head slowly to glare up at Dash.

Dash just smiled, waving down at him.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said hi.”

Spot grunted and rose to his feet, his hazel eyes narrowing at Dash. Despite his intense stare, her expression remained unchanged.

“I heard ya, I heard ya.” He grumbled, glancing her up and down. “You messed me up, y’know.”

“Golly, did I do that?” she feigned surprise, her eyebrows raising. “Whoopsie daisies. Can I play?”

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Actually, it’s just endin’!” Sonny chimed in from behind him with a smile. Spot glanced back and shot Sonny a look, who quickly clammed up.

“Aw, that’s okay.” Dash shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal, Spot’s just afraid that I’ll beat him at his own game.” she looked back to Spot, and she swore she saw his eye twitch.

“No. I am not.” He replied firmly.

“Are too.”

“Am. Not.”

“Are tooooo.”

“NO, I am-” Spot’s voice had grown higher pitched in the heat of the moment, but he quickly paused, giving a sideways glance at his Newsies who were all staring at them. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his voice now sounding much lower than it had a moment ago.

“Fine.” He said cooly. “Fine, you wanna play? We’ll play. Clear the ring, Sonny.”

In a matter of moments, the ring was reset, thirteen mibs resting in the center in a cross. Dash fished her sack of marbles out from her bag, a little blue pouch that her father had fashioned for her out of some spare fabric. She had about a dozen shooters she had collected over the years, but there was a very special one she wanted to use for this occasion.

She rummaged around in the pouch for a moment before pulling up a shooter that was minty green and blue with little white swirls. Sonny whistled, leaning in to look at it.

“That’s real pretty.” He mused. Dash beamed, tossing it up in the air once and catching it.

“Thanks! It’s the first marble I ever won back when I was younger.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “You sure ya wanna use that thing, then? Seems pretty special to be usin’ in a game. Don’t wanna end up like me and have it taken from ya.” She glared pointedly at Sonny, who only grinned back at her innocently with large, doe like eyes.

Dash nodded. “Oh, yeah! This guy is my go-to shooter, he’s real lucky!” She held it up proudly, admiring the way the colorful swirls glistened in the light. “I’ve never lost a match with him!”

Spot was also staring at the marble, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Huh. Oh, well, it’s your funeral, girlie.” He stretched his arms over his head, shifting his gaze back to her. “You better say your goodbyes now, ‘cause that thing’s gonna be in my pocket real soon.”

Dash stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn’t nervous; her lucky shooter had never failed her before, and this game would be no different.

The two knelt on opposite ends of the circle, and the others sat off to the side as spectators. Spot motioned his hand toward her.

“Ladies first.”

Dash positioned herself in front of the ring with her shooter. Without any delay, she flung her marble forward, grinning at the satisfying clack it made as it smacked into one of the mibs, sending two of them rolling out of the ring. Dash whooped loudly, and Spot continued to watched in silence with a serious expression.

“Nice!” Abigail grinned.

Her shooter was still within the circle, which meant she was able to shoot her marble again from the inside the ring. She hummed, hopping to the other side and returning to her knees to the left of Spot. As she reached for her shooter, her shoulder briefly brushed against his. Spot jumped as if he had been shocked, scowling and moving a few inches to his right. Dash barely even noticed him, focused on finding the right angle to shoot her marble. She flicked it once more and the marble struck another mib, but it didn’t have as much force as the first hit. It rolled a few inches and stopped just before reaching the edge. Dash shrugged, flopping backward onto her behind. “Oh well. Your turn.”

Spot nodded, adjusting his cap. Dash saw him glance over at the other kids for a fleeting second, then returned his gaze to the marbles. He cracked his knuckles loudly, which Dash found rather unnecessary, and flexed his hands at his sides. He scooped up his red shooter, assuming the position. His eyebrows knit together and he bit his lip.

This was ridiculous; the longer she waited for him to make his move, the more restless she felt. She drummed her hands on her lap as she waited. After what felt like centuries, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can’t you go any faster?” She huffed.

“I’m focusin’.”

“Focus faster!” she urged.

Spot’s jaw clenched, still not looking at Dash. He exhaled, finally releasing his marble. It hit two mibs at once, sending them flying out of the circle in opposite directions. Sonny cheered loudly and Abigail nodded with approval while Chatter clapped politely beside her. The marble stopped right where it hit its mark, meaning it was still in play.

Spot grinned, clearly pleased with himself as he turned his attention back to Dash. She clapped, nodding slowly.

“That was great, yeah! Hey, at this rate, maybe we’ll have a winner by Thanksgiving!” she teased. Abigail let out a cough that Dash could have sworn was a laugh.

Spot’s grin snapped back to a scowl, squinting hard at her. Dash smiled back. Sometimes it was just too easy.

Spot closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure. When he opened his eyes again, the look in his eyes had changed.

“Oh, I ain’t movin’ fast enough for ya?” he asked, stretching out his arms and making a big show of moving into shooting position once more. Slowly, he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. “That’s no problem. I can go faster.”

He set his eyes on Dash’s lucky shooter, and before she could even process what was happening, he shot his red marble straight for it.

Dash’s eyes widened in horror, and she gasped as the shooter crashed into her minty blue sphere, causing it to roll right out of the ring.

Her heart sank, realizing what he had just done. She looked up at him in dismay and was met with a smug smile.

“Oh, would ya look at that? Seems like ya lucky marble ain’t so lucky no more.” He snickered. “Oopsie daisies.”

The other Brooklyn kids appeared stunned at what their leader had done, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Sure, he had joked about taking the marble, but it didn’t seem like they thought he would actually take it.

“Spot…” Abigail started, but Spot ignored her, plucking the shooter from the ground and rolling it across his palm as he stood.

“You were right, Abby. She shoulda listened to your advice, don’t’cha think?”

For a minute, Dash was speechless. Did that really just happen? Was he being serious right now?

Her shock quickly turned to rage. She rose and stormed up to him, lunging toward the marble.

“No! That’s not fair, you can’t-”

“What exactly ain’t fair here?” Spot interrupted, snatching it away and holding her prized shooter high in the air. “I ain’t no cheater, ask anyone here! I won this here marble fair and square!” He looked over at the others for confirmation, daring any of them to argue. “You all saw it, right? No rules broken, yeah?”

Reluctantly, the three nodded in agreement, which only fueled Dash’s anger. She grunted and jumped toward his raised hand in an attempt to grab it, but he stepped back, barking out a laugh.

“Better luck next time, short stuff!”

Dash grunted, jumping up and down as she tried snatch her marble. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You’re barely three inches taller than me at most!”

“Still, it’s three inches you ain’t got!” he snickered. “I’m playin’ the game the way it’s s’posed to be played! When ya shoot your opponent’s marble outta the ring, you claim it! That’s the rule!”

They danced around one another, Dash hopping up toward his hand and Spot pulling away at the very last second. Dash could feel her cheeks burning. She grit her teeth and let out a loud groan. “Why are you being such a jerk?!” She exclaimed, taking another swing just as he jumped out of the way. “You only shot at my marble to be mean!”

“I’m the jerk?” He scoffed, side stepping when she tried to snatch it again. “You’ve been pickin’ on me this whole time! ”

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“WAS NOT!”

“WERE TOO!”

“Hey, now,” Chatter spoke up for the first time, stepping forward. His voice was deep and soft. “Maybe we should all calm down…”

But Dash didn’t want to calm down. She was fuming, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a silly, little marble, but she couldn’t control it; she was livid! How dare he take something from her that he knew was special to her! How dare he hold it over her head and taunt her with it! The way he smirked down at her made her stomach bubble with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

She lunged once more, but this time, she wasn’t aiming at his hand.

She reached for his head, plucking off the brown cap from his head in one quick swipe and scurrying backward with a triumphant “HA!”

Spot blinked in surprise, his free hand instinctively moving toward his head. His caramel hair was now in disarray, falling in wisps across his face.

“Ha ha. Very funny, girlie, give it back.”

“No.”

“Seriously? Dash, c’mon.”

Dash was already scooping up her bag of belongings and throwing it over her shoulder, a wild grin on her face. It was juvenile, sure, but it was the only thing she could think to do in the heat of the moment. She offered him a quick salute, then bolted from the scene of the crime, leaving a flabbergasted Spot behind her.

She was already halfway down the block before she heard an enraged bellow behind her:

“DAAAAASH!”

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End of Part 1

#newsies #newsies fanfic #newsies oc #newsies oc fanfic #hyacinthus writes #newsies original character #dash #spot #pls be kind this is my first fic since i was 12 asdfgdsa #oc x canon #cringe culture is dead oc x canon is cool now

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hieludoboi · 4 years ago

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Okay okay hear me out,,, Todoroki x a nb!reader,,, He finally actually confessed to them and the reader is just like cannot accept that Todoroki Shouto actually likes them. They're in total disbelief

A/n- Reader’s just standing there like “Me? Oh. That’s right, who else here is named Y/n” and Shouto’s kinda just standing there like ‘....’

A/n- Also! Just the thought of Pro Hero Todo getting like a scone or something sweet every morning before a patrol (I headcanon Shouto liking sweets, just idk, something about it just works for me) and slowly falling for the baker at his favorite bakery

A/n- I did a little research for how to write non-binary readers and such, and I feel like it’s kinda difficult to write for them unless specifics are given! Some non-binary individuals are masculine, other’s are feminine, some go by they/them, some by she/her or sometimes by zie/zim. I didn’t feel like it was right for me to write for these individuals specifically until I do a bit more research and learn to properly write for them!

A/n- Non-binary is a blanket term encompassing a whole list of genders/identities that don’t exactly follow societal gender norms! Sometimes non-binary individuals have gendered pronouns, sometimes they don’t! Since you didn’t specify I’m going to label this as a more gender neutral thing!

A/n- Update, I researched like two hours and I still don’t understand. My brain very fried no work from online classes brainrot but not by bokuto by staring at screen all dy. Someone pls give my pigeon brain examples on how to properly write for nb! readers rn or I’ll pull out the glock >:(

Pairing- Pro Hero! Shouto / Gn! Reader

Summary- So he was serious?

Warnings- not really?

It was a mundane Tuesday morning. The sun had yet to rise, slowly peaking over the city’s skyline, yet somehow getting lost among all the trees and towers. As with every morning, Y/n started off their day by preparing for their day. A quick shower, followed by washing their face and brushing their teeth. Before they knew it, they were trudging out of the house and making their way to the bakery to prepare for the morning rush.

Y/n was quirkless in a society plagued by quirks, an average day to day citizen if you will. They didn’t mind, in fact, life even seemed a bit easier when they didn’t have to worry about controlling some strange and odd power. The rest of the world, however, couldn’t begin to fathom how they even managed to lead a life without a quirk.

Stifling a yawn, they made their way to the front door, unlocking it before closing it and locking it behind them. If the day went as planned, which normally it didn’t, they’d have scones, muffins, and croissants all out and freshly baked by six. Bear claws, donuts, and danish pastries would be out by eight, all the rolls and loafs would be done by ten and by eleven they could hopefully get started on the sugary sweets that their younger costumers seemed to enjoy so much.

Their morning dragged on as usual. One by one the rest of the employees pooled into the back kitchen, kneading dough and making batters to pour in to tins or mold into shape. Grunting, Y/n picked up a tray chocked full of scones and made their way towards the display cases, setting the tray atop the display and carefully arranging the scones inside. Looking up at the pretty light blue clock, Y/n hummed. Their day rarely went as planned, but they could always count on Shouto coming in once the clock hit six-thirty.

“Waiting on Mr. Pro-Hero?” Y/n turned around, feeling the heat begin to seize the apples of their cheeks. Sputtering, Y/n turned around, ignoring their coworker and instead focusing on arranging the last of the scones.

“Come onnnnnn! How are you so oblivious!” Y/n huffed, quickly standing up before thrusting the empty tray into Hina, their coworker’s, hands. “Y/n. He likes you!!” Hina groaned, following a wordless Y/n back into the kitchen.

“Hina. No he doesn’t!!” Y/n mocked Hina as they slid a tray of muffins into the oven. Hina grunted, pulling out a giant bowl of risen dough before letting it fall onto a flowered counter top. “Besides, he’s rumored to be dating Creati,” Y/n pointed out, dusting their hands off on their apron.

“They’re just ru-” Hina rubbed her temples, watching as Y/n made their way towards the front at the sound of the little bell ringing. When would they stop being so oblivious?

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

Nothing seemed to go right that morning. While on his usual morning patrols, Shouto had run into Momo. While it was a welcome surprise, the situation was not. They had run into each other while battling a lowlife villain with a disastrous quirk. Damages were not kept to a minimum, and all Shouto wanted to do after being chewed out by local authorities was to go bite into a delicious scone at his favorite bakery.

“This could have gone better,” Momo sighed, rubbing her temples as they both surveyed the damage they had done to the small plaza. Shouto nodded, he couldn’t agree more. “We should probably go out west, right? If there were robberies here, there’s bound to be some in the shopping centre,” Shouto nodded, Momo had some nice ideas.

“We can stop by a bakery there too, I know a place that makes some nice scones,” Shouto explained as they walked, a subtle smile on his face at the thought of the baker that awaited him every morning. “What time is it?” SHouto asked, turning to look at Momo.

“Oh, it’s around seven-thirty, why?” This morning could not have gone any worse for Shouto. First, he has to stop villains at the crack of dawn, and now he’s going to miss out on scones? Admittedly, they didn’t sell fast, but the bakery didn’t make a lot of them either.

“No reason,” Shouto shrugged. He hoped he wouldn’t miss Y/n.

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

Y/n sighed, watching as the seconds ticked by on the clock overhead. It was eight already. Shouto was never late, ever. The man had a thing for punctuality, and even when everything was going wrong, Y/n could always count on seeing their favorite customer before the sun fully rose.

“Pretty boy ain’t here yet?” Y/n stood up, turning to look at the smug grin on their co-worker’s face. Curling their lip and rolling their eyes, Y/n went back to slouching over the counter, resting their chin on their palm as they zoned in on the glass door ahead of them. “C’mon boss! Cheer up, we’ll never make any sales with a grumpy face up front!” Y/n frowned seemed to become deeper, rooting itself in their brows and lips.

“And I suppose having a super buff woman who looks like she can pop your head off with a squeeze of her biceps at the counter will allure customers like nothing ever could?” Y/n teased, grinning as Hina flexed her biceps.

“Children adore me. They see me and are amazed by the ‘big muscle woman’,” Hina gloated, wiggling her eyebrows while continuing to pose behind the counter.

“Yeah yeah, go help Kohaku before he breaks an arm trying to knead the dough,” Y/n grumbled, pushing Hina into the kitchen so they could focus on the sales upfront. Kohaku liked decorating cakes, but every once in a while he’d have to knead dough while Hina helped Y/n arrange things up front.

Picking at their nails for a minute or so with boredom, Y/n’s head instantly popped up as soon as the bell on the glass door chirped. Their eyes instantly attatched themselves to the blue suit before them, almost completely ignoring the red latex that stood beside it.

“Shou! I was starting to think you’d... never get here,” Y/n’s voice was filled with excitement at first, immediately dying off at the sight of Creati, who stood right next to him. Offering the pro hero a pleasant smile, Y/n grabbed their gloves and tray, their tongs hanging off a little hook on the display case.

“What can I get for you two?” Y/n asked, the bright smile that usually reached their eyes seeming to drown before it could fully rise. Shouto frowned a bit to himself, wondering where the usually happy and bright baker he had grown so used to had gone. Was he maybe reading too into it?

“Oh! I’ll a pumpkin walnut muffin! They look so good!” Momo praised, delicately pointing to her preferred muffin through the glass case.

“Thank you, made the recipe myse-”

“And we baked them!” Y/n winced at Hina’s booming voice, opening their eyes as soon as it died out.

“Sorry about that, you’ll come to find that this bakery comes alive after a certain hour,” Y/n explained with a giggle, placing the muffin on the tray they held. “And you, Shouto?” Y/n asked, tilting their head a bit as they awaited his answer.

“The usual,” Shouto made sure to offer them a grin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit as he watched Y/n set the tray on the counter.

“Lucky you, I made sure to save one just for you!” Y/n hummed happily, reaching for the last scone before placing it on the tray. Shouto could feel the shy smile subtly spreading on his face, did they really save on just for him?

“I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do after you helped me out earlier today,” Momo said, turning to give Shouto a smile.

“Right, thank you, Momo,” Shouto gratefully accepted his scone, waving goodbye to Momo as she left the shop. Shouto preferred to eat his scones at the shop anyway.

“Are you not joining me today?” Shouto looked up, a confused look on his face as he watched Y/n fidget behind the counter. They would always snack on a danish pastry and sit with Shouto before he had to leave again. It was routine at this point.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Y/n muttered sheepishly, snagging a pastry from the display case before heading over to Shouto’s usual spot by the window. For the umpteenth time that day, Shouto could feel himself frowning. He wondered what was wrong.

“S-so you and Creati?” Y/n asked, taking a small bite from the sweet bread that sat in their hands. Shouto looked up, eyes widened in surprise, midway through a bite of his scone. Was that what this was about?

“She helped me stop some villains this morning, that was all,” Shouto explained. Y/n hummed, nodding their head as they started to pick at the jam filled sweet in front of them. “Oh, uhm...” Shouto mumbled, his brow furrowed as he began to search his pockets. Where had he left it?

“You okay, Shou?” Y/n giggled, amused by the way his face had contorted when he began to search for his little mystery item.

“Yeah, fine... Oh! Found it,” Shouto muttered, pulling out the small box that had resided in his pocket since the day prior. “Here, for you,” Shouto mumbled bashfully, sliding the velvet box across the table to Y/n.

“For me? Shou... That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to,” Y/n explained, gently sliding the box back to Shouto. Accepting gifts felt odd, especially if they were from Shouto. They could already imagine what ridiculously expensive gift sat inside.

“Please, open it?” Shouto asked, sliding the box back across and making sure to set it in Y/n’s hands this time. Y/n gasped, eyes wide as they felt the heat rush to their face. Open and closing their mouth in a flustered fit, Y/n finally decided to delicately pry open the box, eyes tripling in size at the sight of the gold chain anklet studded in pearls that sat in the box.

“Shouto... No, I can’t accept this,” Y/n insisted, shaking their head profusely, shutting the box and trying to put it back in Shouto’s hands.

“You can, and you will. Can we go out sometime?” Y/n could feel their jaw drop to the floor. First the anklet and now he’s just asking for a date like it’s a regular Tuesday?

“M-me?” Y/n asked, looking around the shop, the confusion settling in their eyes, locking their mind in some sort of fuzzy haze.

“Yes, so, will you?” Shouto asked once more, amused by their cute little reaction.

“Uh, sure... Sure...”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at seven,”

“But we don’t close untill-”

“THEY’LL BE READY BY 4!”

“Hina-”

“I SAID YOU’LL BE READY BY FOUR DAMNIT!”

“I’ll be ready by four!”

116 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.1

Of Muffins, Cheeky Vigilantes and Sad Interns

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 3130

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.

You stared at the two unconscious men at his feet, still perfectly shocked but relieved, pressing your handbag to your chest.

You were slowly leaving your place by the wall – more like in the wall, because you had been trying to merge with it even since the two men had backed you into it, pulling out their knives and demanding your handbag. That had been before this guy had appeared and put them in a line – and you were pretty sure he put some of their bones out of their natural line, but you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“You… thank you. How— you… saved my life,” you stuttered, watching the man in a black mask wince as if he only now realized you were there.

“You’re welcome,” he said, voice pleasantly low-pitched, looking in your direction. “Though I’m not sure it would go that far if you have just given him your handbag.”

“Well, I couldn’t do that,” you retorted, automatically drawing the item closer to your chest.

He took two cautious steps to you, easing his fighting stance. “I know it would be a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy, but for future reference, it would be much better if you just gave it up.”

“I couldn’t. There’s a… there’s a secret recipe.”

“… a recipe. You… couldn’t have let go of your handbag because of a recipe. You’re joking,” he stated, and the little of his face you could see, free of the fabric of his mask, seemed shocked. And maybe a little amused. How would you know, you could only see his jaw. And lips – their corners were quirked inconspicuously, so yeah, definitely amused.

Well, at least you made him smile since he had saved you and all.

“It’s important! There’s this guy in my work and— never mind. Forget I said anything. I mean… beside the thank you. Wow, babbling is not my usual reaction to stress.”

“Well, if that makes you feel better I don’t usually chat with people I help out,” he said with a shrug, making you raise your eyebrows.

“So why do you now?” Not that I complain.

He shrugged again, coming a little closer again. “Nowhere to be. And you seem fun.”

Huh. Who would think a guy in a mask, lurking in a dark, would be such a nice person? He seemed genuine. You had no idea where he picked up the idea of you being fun, but you guessed he didn’t meet women protecting their handbags for recipes of all thing every night. Did he do that every night? Was that a thing?

You shook off the thoughts. “…thanks, I guess?”

“So, guy at work?” He smiled suggestively, clearly teasing you. You just gaped.

“Oh my god, I’m not talking about that with… with a masked guy! And… and it’s not like that,” you protested, questioning your own claim. Maybe?

“Really? So why that blush?”

You quickly checked you cheeks with your hand. “I don’t-“ You never blushed. You doubted you were now and your cheeks felt just normal-- that little shit. “You know, for a guy who lurks in a dark, you are sure pretty cocky.”

And for a near assault victim, I am pretty chatty and easy-going.

“People also say I’m a good listener,” he offered nonchalantly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You were not doing this, right? You wouldn’t just load that on a complete stranger? Then again, he was a complete stranger, so he couldn’t tell anyone who knew you. Mmm...

“…it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, he’s… handsome, but-- he’s… I barely know him, but he’s just really nice, you know? Like…” You licked your lips, finally letting the handbag rest on its usual place. “The kind of guy who would help you to pick up your stuff, even if he wasn’t be the one who ran into you. And the other day, I saw his telling a joke to someone who seemed down, but usually is a bitch to him. He’s the guy who would hold the elevator for you. Just… really nice. And lately… he seemed down himself. Not even his friend can cheer him up. So… yeah.”

“So… you decided to… cook something for him. For this… nice guy,” he summed up your monologue, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah. My friend met me at the bar and gave up her secret recipe for the best muffins in the world. I already bought the ingredients, guessing, but I didn’t pick up on the vanilla beans.”¨

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saving his life,” you said, giving him a significant look.

Why were you smiling? You just almost got mugged! And you were chatting with a man who just broke someone’s bones! To be fair, he was really likeable. Had called you fun and nice. Not something you were used to.

“He could be depressed. So maybe you are.”

You couldn’t but smile wider. “Maybe. Though he probably gets bagels every morning… never mind. …And you know what, you are a good listener. But I should go. Got work to do.”

“Sure. Good luck with your… baking,” he wished you, grinning like a goddamn child. Was it really so amusing?

“If I have some spares, I’ll leave them on the rooftop for you,” you decided, freezing after you realized what you said. “A random rooftop! I wouldn’t want a masked guy to know where I live.”

He laughed. He honest to god laughed. “Of course. Go, I’ll call the police to pick those guys up.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You barely managed to sneak into the interns’ office – office? More like a closet – and make it out before they appeared behind a corner. These two guys started there recently, but you instantly liked them. The one with blond hair was smiling most of the time, a cheery smile that made you smile back even when you were busy and nearly harassed by your boss a minute before; the other one, the dark-haired one, had a gentler smile, a warming one – and you hadn’t seen much of it lately. If you were honest, you thought his idealism was being crushed; he was incredibly nice and polite to everyone as far as you saw him interact with people and you were sure that a firm like Landman and Zack wasn’t a place for his fragile soul-- and now you were just projecting.

The pair fell into their closet office and you released the breath you were holding. You resisted the urge to listen in with your ear at the door. It turned out, you didn’t have to; most of the offices were empty due to the lunch break and the blond man – okay, yeah, you heard him introduce himself as Foggy, which was ridiculous, but kinda cute – was very loud.

“Matt, a muffin.”

You bit your lip, a little nervous about not hearing Matt’s reaction.

“Matt, I swear to God, there is a muffin on your table. With a note on a toothpick in it and it says— oh. That’s just mean. Why would someone give a muffin on your desk only to tempt you?” Foggy sounded bewildered and a little hurt on the behalf of his friend.

You giggled into your palm. You had left a written note saying: ‘Don’t you dare to touch it, you, who are reading this.’

The trick was in leaving one more note – in braille. ‘Feel better and be happy. The offices are too dark without your smile. Enjoy.’

Which was an idiotic lie, because the offices were all glass and steel, having too much light most of the time, but the message was clear, you hoped. Not to mention Matt wouldn’t be able to tell. Because he was… well, blind. Which meant he couldn’t read the note not directed at him, but could read his own.

You sneaked from your office, coming a little closer, listening in.

“Dude, your face. Why do I have the feeling the braille version says something different?”

You smiled for yourself, hoping to cause at least a little rise of Matt’s lips while he was reading his personal note (it was a bitch to use the braille printer without no one noticing, okay, you were kinda proud of yourself). His response was quieter, but you pricked your ears and heard it.

“Because it does.”

Later, you were trying hard not to stare too blatantly when they passed your office, but you caught a glimpse anyway. Matt was smiling. Brightly.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“This is so stupid, I’m crazy, I’m the craziest person to ever walk this Earth…” you were muttering as you laid a plate with two muffins in the middle of the rooftop. “If anyone’s gonna eat it, it’s gonna be Frank from 2B when coming to have a smoke. Or pigeons…”

“Did the nice guy liked his muffin?” sounded a voice from behind you and you jumped ten feet above— well, not. You literally fell on your ass, yelping in shock, your hand trying to keep your heart inside your ribcage. “Hey, easy there.”

You spun slowly to the source of the pleasant male voice, only to find a man dressed in nothing but black. With a mask on, naturally.

“Not sure. Maybe I just helped him to have a heart attack sooner. But I can ask him if he’s looking for one and refer him to you,” you complained, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, easing your hand down.

Jesus.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered you a gloved hand to help you up. But it was a warm night and forgetting the fact your pants would be no doubt terribly dirty from the concrete, you were actually fine sitting there. You patted on the other side of the plate instead. He hesitated.

“For some reason I don’t believe you,” you exclaimed darkly. “I’m not sure you deserve these…”

“They’re really for me?”

A shy smile appeared on his lips – you really needed to stop focusing on people’s lips, it was creepy, but to be fair, this guy wasn’t offering many things to go on and staring at his body tightly wrapped in black probably wasn’t much better. He lowered himself elegantly, sitting down on the offered place.

“I figured that you might appreciate it and you’ll burn the calories easily. And since I baked six of these…”

“Thanks.” He tentatively took off his gloves, reaching for one of the muffins. He took a bite.

You blinked in surprise at his trust. “They could be poisoned.”

He froze. “You wouldn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“No one who bakes a muffin just to cheer up a guy they barely know would try to poison me,” he reasoned, his confidence almost unshaken.

“I could have just made the story up. Or bake two batches, poison one of them and lay a trap.”

He frowned, taking another bite easily. “That sounds like an awfully lot of work, considering pigeons might have eaten this. Or Frank from 2B.”

“You— you heard that?” you asked, surprised.

“I have good ears. And taste buds. This is really good.”

“I’m glad. Maybe one day I can quit my soul-crushing job, steal all of my friend’s recipes and open a bakery. The Hell’s Bakery… in Hell’s Kitchen.”

He chuckled, the sound so light that it made you wonder how the hell this guy was a vigilante. Should he be like… dark and broody? I am batman, I’m the night?

“I would be a regular. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he finished the muffin and licked his thumb.

“He’s a lucky guy, you know. Having you to look out for him,” he offered casually.

“I told you, it’s not like that…” you repeated, though you were less and less convinced it was the truth. “…and he doesn’t know it was me.”

“You didn’t give it to him?” he sounded shocked. You thought he might have raised his eyebrows. “Just leaving it? Why?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want him to feel… obligated to be grateful or something. Plus, me noticing he’s smiling less than usual? It’s a little creepy, I imagine. It’s better if I stay anonymous.”

“Huh. You really weren’t trying to… get his attention, were you?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Was it really that strange? “Why? Not your type? Have eyes on someone else?”

“Not my type…” you repeated lowly. “I think he’s everybody’s type.” He tilted his head curiously. “I don’t.”

“But?”

“But nothing. He’s… he’s him. I bet he has someone. He has this whole…” you gestured vaguely with your hands as if it could mean something. It did. To you. “…charming, take-me-home aura.”

“Take-me-home aura?” he parroted, bewildered.

“It’s hard to-“ you stopped in the middle of the sentence, realizing the absurdity of the situation. Muffins. Late night. Dim lights. Boy problems. “Oh god, I’m having a slumber party with a vigilante on a rooftop. I really am crazy.”

“Do you want to braid hair?” he suggested with that boyish grin you remembered from yesterday. “I’m no good at painting nails, but I rock at braiding.”

You looked at him incredulously, watching him for what could be a minute. Then you burst out laughing.

“I believe you. But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’m very picky about who I let touch my hair.”

“Uh-huh Okay. What does take-me-home aura mean? Take home and..?”

“And snuggle him…” you hummed, thoughtful. “Or rip his clothes off, sometimes it’s hard to decide. Probably both in the right order.”

“Oh.”

You burst out laughing once more when seeing him so taken aback. Well, you thought he looked taken aback.

“Oh god, you look so spooked. I’m not gonna do that to you, or him. Have a muffin.”

He pouted, but relaxed and reached for his comfort food. “I’m not… spooked. It’s just… why don’t you?”

“Because I’m pretty sure dragging someone into my home and ripping their clothes off is a crime,” you emphasized, even though the irony was lost on this guy, since he was acting outside the law. Matt, on the other hand… was a lawyer.

“You could just ask him out.”

The smile froze on your lips. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, right. I forgot you don’t know me very well and you don’t know whom I’m talking about. He’s… like… waaaay out of my league. Professionally speaking – one day, I’m sure – and with his looks too.”

He nibbled his muffin, looking thoughtful. It was incredibly cute. “You said he was nice. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn you down.”

“A pity date. Yay for me.”

“…you don’t have very high opinion of yourself, do you?”

You shrugged. “I’m a realist.”

He set his muffin down, turning to you with his whole body. “I don’t have many references to your looks, since we’re meeting at night, but you seem like a great person and… I really don’t talk with people much. Not at all, if I can help it. But you’re easy to talk too. Even if it was a pity date, I’m sure he would have a good time. And maybe you would find out he’s just a guy and forget there are some… leagues or whatever,” he mimicked, sounding a little disgusted. He picked his muffin back, possibly to drown the bitterness of the word league.

Oh my god, how was this guy even real? There was no way he was not chatting with all victims of crime he saved.

“Thanks— what do I call you? Give me something. I don’t expect your real name, secret identities and all, but… something.”

“Huh. I don’t know. Uhm…”

“If you don’t come up with something, I will,” you threatened, your mind racing. He would either have a terrible name, compensating with a nickname, or a plain name no one would look twice at.

“Go for it,” he challenged, licking the remains of chocolate of his lips. You observed him for a minute, wondering.

“Mm. Alright. Thank you for your encouraging words… Clark.”

“Clark? Like… Clark Kent?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, grinning. “Hero. Secret identity. Ripped. Sweet. Yeah, you’re Clark… you’re not wearing glasses to work, are you? Are you trying to look awkward, or better yet invisible? Unnoticed? Are you a journalist?” you asked quickly to cover up the fact you blatantly told him he had hot body.

“I’m not a journalist,” he said slowly, looking a bit alarmed. Though he didn’t deny the rest.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop prying. But thanks. It’s… really sweet of you, but… I guess I’m too chicken to ask him out.”

The sentence lied heavily between you for few moments.

“…what if he asked you?”

You snorted. “Right. He doesn’t even know I exist, Clark. Doesn’t know my name.”

“Neither do I. And look at us, sitting on a rooftop, talking about boys.”

This time you laughed. “You just wriggled your eyebrows, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he played along mysteriously, before his smile softened. “Can I have your name?”

“Well, I guess there’s no point in denying you now know where I live, so a name wouldn’t add much. But you know what? I picked yours. Pick mine.”

“…okay. Nice to meet you… Lois.” He extended his hand towards you, making your breath hitch.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” You shook his hand, swallowing the nervousness his choice left you in. The love interest? “Though I’m more of a Jimmy Olsen, don’t you think?” The friend.

He tensed, jerking to his feet, crouching, his head tilted. You almost had another heart attack at the sudden movement.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry. There’s… an assault a mugging in progress. But-“ he turned to you, his tense features softening a little, leaning into your space. “I chose the name on purpose.”

Then his freaking lips brushed your temple and he jogged away, jumping-- jumping off the roof. You flied to your feet as well, running after him, checking he wasn’t a bloody smudge on the pavement. He wasn’t. You saw only a shadow several rooftops over. You brought you hand to the place his lips touched your skin, still shocked.

What the actual hell?

You stood on the rooftop for a very long time, staring at the city lights, still trying to process that Clark had… pecked your temple. When you finally made it inside, you couldn’t fall asleep. After an hour of staring into the ceiling, you got up and… baked. Not wanting to bake the same stuff again, you improvised. You added cocoa powder, switched milk chocolate for dark and added some cherries you had bought the other day, hoping for an acceptable outcome.

When you had one of the muffins for breakfast, you came to conclusion it wasn’t half bad, packing one for lunch, counting on a zero lunch-break again. It turned out it was a good idea.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Part 2

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

I know there aren’t many Matt readers with me here, but someone might like it ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfiction #mcu #matt murdock fanfic #reader insert #matt murdock imagine #fluff #of muffins coffee and other miracles #anika ann

903 notes · View notes

angelmichelangelo · 4 years ago

Note

analyze all Phil emojis pls

i’m gonna do examples of each one in the context of which i think phils uses these emojis

1. 👌🏼

definitely uses it after dan suggests something like “hey lets order takeout” or “i just passed ur fave muffin place do u want anything” and phil’s all “👌🏼👌🏼 bring me a croissant biatch”

2. ✨

i imagine dnp send this emoji to each other a lot as a joke like “love you dumb bitch ✨” and “stop leaving coffee granules on the counter or i will literally kill you ✨” and so on

3. 🎈

i’m guessing maybe it was someone’s birthday and he used it? i couldn’t even find this emoji at first so yeah unless he and dan are sending balloons to each other to see who can do their best pennywise impression, idk

4. 📅

just for the tweet, nothing fun about this one

5. 🤔

probably dan asking him what he wants for dinner and phil sending a million of these bastard emojis as he thinks in real time because phil lester shall not be rushed

6. 🥳

again, guessing it’s someone’s birthday

7. 😱

i like to imagine that if phil’s working on a new video dan goes to sit in the lounge and keep an eye on things and gives him hourly updates on the wildlife of london which earns him a load of shocked face emojis once dan tells him steve has been eaten by barry the fox

8. 😊

the kind of emoji he’d send to kath because who else do you send this emoji to?

9. 😆

*straight friend texts him something mildly funny* phil: ten of these bad boys in a row

10. 🧐

dan: “WHERE TF IS THE PLUG I PUT IT IN ONE SPECIFIC PLACE COR A READINS SOSMSJANSKSKAHS” phil:

11. 📆

again was just used to for the tweet. rip the emojis that came before them

12. 😁

dan: did you eat my mf cereal??? phil: yes 😁

13. 🐟

definitely a norman emoji. how many updates does he send out to everyone he knows ?? how do i subscribe to the norman text thread???

14. 😇

another example of phil being a shit.

dan: where are my snacks i specifically left in the fridge for me ?? phil: heehee

15. 🐠

what can i say another norman emoji. he really loves his fish child huh

16. 😰

for when dan does actually go out to kill phil when he leaves coffee granules on the kitchen side again...

17. 🦓

phil: this is u rn :)

dan pulling his stripped sweater over his face whilst flipping phil off

18. ❓

when dan doesn’t answer his texts and he’s him alone bored

19. 🐆

for when dan decides to step out of his comfort zone with stripes and goes for spots and phil just makes fun of him again

20. 🐌

dan texting phil a picture of the snails he saved on the way home and phil offering his support in the form of emojis ;_;

21. 🐦

some pigeon updates im sure

22. 😎

phil is a cool dude, okay? he 100% does not use this ironically and will send it after making a terrible joke because phil is king

23. 😭

dan and phil send each other cute shit all the time, mans needs a good cry at something adorable from time to time, get it out babes

24. 🏳️‍🌈

mother fucking gay rights baby. and whenever dnp send each other some gay shit they definitely use this :)

25. 🍹

dan and phil cocktail night helllllll yes

26 & 27. 🥂🏠

i actually wrote a fic about this uh cough cough spon

28. 🏚

phil: hey babe just fyi i blew the entire house up so don’t come home yet also can u pls bring back some food because ours is currently on fire rip forever home thanks xox

29. 🍕

phil: get me dominos, bitch

30. 🥑

after dan refuses because he’s trying to be more healthy

phil: fuck avocados philly want sizzler

#THIS TOOK ME SO LONG AAA #but it was funny lmao #ask #anon #tw food #tw alcohol

116 notes · View notes

kingofthecon · 4 years ago

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@femmechanceux

#1 "You know what rhymes with Bugaboo? Me and you." It was a pretty boring night of patrolling so naturally Chat Noir decided to fill the air with anything and everything just to keep them both entertained. His vibrant green eyes focused more on the task at hand - keeping an out for trouble - than they did on his partner, but when his eyes did meet her form for an extended period of time he couldn't help but grin. Running around Paris late at night with a lovely lady by his side helped him to forget about his life outside of costume. It helped his mind come up with all sorts of entertaining ideas which drove away all the reality shattering ones that came with common sense - one of the recent things being what'd happen when they finally defeated Hawk Moth. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that one day they would actually catch Hawk Moth slipping and manage to not only take him down and retrieve his Miraculous, but also learn his identity and lock him away forever, but what would come next? They wouldn't be able to keep their Miraculous anymore, would they? Sure there would still be crime left in Paris, but that could be handled by the officers of the law instead of vigilantes like them. What did that mean for his friendship with Ladybug? Would they just...no longer be able to see each other? No, that was stupid. Ladybug might not be interested in him because of her crush on someone from her life outside of the mask, but that didn't mean they couldn’t be friends. They'd make a way. "It's been a lot of times recently where it's just been me and you, and though I do love spending quality time with my leading lady, I can't help but wonder when the ball's going to drop. I don't want to jinx it, but the last time we found someone who was akumatized it was Mr. Pigeon and that was nearly a month ago." He had most certainly been keep tracking. Between the photo shoots, collabs, and interviews along with school, his fencing class, and a few side activities, there wasn't much of any activity from Hawk Moth. He doubted the man had suddenly fallen off the face of the Earth, but there had to be something at play. Then again his sidekick, Mayura, had been hurt in her last confrontation with the rest of them. Maybe the two of them were an evil couple and Mothy had to take some time out of his akumatizing schedule to take care of her? It was sweet even though they were both evil - taking joy in turning people into their minions all in a vain attempt to get the Cat and Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, what if her sickness was the reason why Hawk Moth was trying so hard? Maybe the reason they'd shown their costumed faces was because of desperation, and Hawk Moth had gotten a mad power-up from her to boot. She hadn't been in the game until recently so maybe that was it? It was something he'd been speculating on a while now, but hadn't had enough evidence to support this theory which meant he hadn't said anything to Ladybug about it. He probably should at some point, but not even now seemed like a good time. "He's too annoying to just give up and go on vacation, so maybe he's wrapped up in some supervillain HR meeting where they talk about their failures and how to go about achieving their goals while eating muffins from the cafeteria." It was random and probably outlandish. The goal was to make her laugh, especially when he was about to say something that might cause a bit of an issue between them. Yeah, butter her up before telling her that he won't be around for a little while because a friend of his father had done some contest and had picked three kids from nowhere to take on as apprentices or something and Adrien would be with them for a while. It was just a publicity stunt and collaboration thing, but it was an extra added activity and with everything else he had to do something needed to be cut out, and it wasn't like Ladybug only had him to rely on considering she could dish out the Miraculous to other people. It would be fine. "I don't think there's any crime afoot tonight," he offered teasingly after they stopped near the Louvre for a break. He stretched both arms over his head and yawned before flopping down in a cross legged position. "Which is convenient because...well, I won't be uh, be around for the next few weeks at least." Best to just rip off the bandage. "My family is going to be particularly busy and I won't be able to get out of certain obligations so if there's an emergency you'll have to get one of the others. I'll try to sneak away, but you'll have to treat any threat that might crop up like one that I won't be able to help you fight in." Just saying that made him feel like crap. If an emergency came up and someone got hurt because he prioritized taking pictures with some contest winners over fighting crime then he would have to live with that guilt, but his father would be watching and if he even tried to get out of something like that the consequences would make him being Chat Noir period even harder when things weren't incredibly busy. If he wanted to keep being being a hero then he was going to have to do whatever it took to keep his father off his case. This was one of those situations where there were no good options to take. "I'd better head home. I have to wake up early. Well, earlier than usual." He turned back the way they'd come, which was in the opposite direction of his home actually, and ran off. He was out of his lady's sight he changed the direction and took a different route home. He de-transformed, fed Plagg a few pieces of Camembert and raced the rest of his way home - entering through the front gates and not stopping until he was in his room.

"Okay Sixer, how'd this happen?" Triplets Stanton, Stanford, and Stanley sat in their shared bedroom - Stanley and Stanton; or Shermie as he liked to be called - sitting on either side of their brother Stanford as he read the letter in his hand for the fourth time in silence. There had been a bit of a contest months ago created by a man named William Chiffrer. He was looking for individuals with a wide variety of talents that ranged from athleticism to intellect. Stanford had of course sent filled out the necessary forms on top of going above and being by writing an entire essay about why he believed he should be chosen...he'd also sent out the necessary forms for his siblings and tricked each of them into writing a bit of an essay of their own. He didn't think any of them would be accepted. William was a man of many talents, but what had caught Stanford's attention was the man's intellect. William had the ability to create his own language - something that he and his siblings had done when they were younger...little ciphers that only they could understand, but William? As far as Stanford knew the man had at least three different languages of his own under his belt, a company that didn't seem tethered to him, and ideas of deep sea and space exploration that he had no qualms with sharing to the masses. In other words, the man was an actual genius who had absolutely no problem flaunting it. Stanford was envious, intrigued and well, William was his idol. That meant he wanted to learn from him and this contest? This contest would be his one shot. He, however, didn't want to go in alone. The sound of someone playing with a paddle ball close to his face caused him to jerk to attention. His eyes traveled to his left where he saw Stanley, the sibling that was identical to him minus the fingers, waiting impatiently for an answer. To Stanford's right his slightly older fraternal sibling looked unimpressed already having an idea of what'd taken place though the chances of all three of them being picked was...highly unlikely. "It's not that difficult to understand," the middle triplet said as he pushed himself off the bed and paced the center of their bedroom floor. "More so, improbable. The chances of the three of us getting chosen for this opportunity of a life time is simply astronomical. It's--" "Not the question, Poindexter. Sherm and I didn't enter this sleaze ball's contest. I know I suck at math, but I'm at least a hundred percent sure that us not enterin’ means we both hadda zero percent chance'o winnin' anything. Howzat possible, I wonder." One look at his brothers had rooted to the spot - both hands behind his back as his started to get nervous. Stanley continued to play with his paddle ball, but his attention remained on Stanford while Shermie let out and exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I was thinking. Well, of course I know what I was thinking. It would be incredible to have William Chiffrer as a mentor. His vast knowledge of the world and its inner workings - despite being quite controversial - has merit and have been shown to be more than just plausible. This man has plans to change the world and the means to do it and it would be remiss of me to pass up the opportunity to work under the man himself. I just did not wish to go alone so I took the liberty of signing contest forms for the both of you while feeding you false information about an extra credit essay where you had to convince the President of the United States of why you would be a great addition to the White House." "Wait, that's not what you told me," Stanley said with narrowed eyes while slowly lowering the paddle ball. "Errhm, yes well, you having to convince a potential suitor's father of why he should let you date his daughter seemed more plausible than the Presidential angle, I'm afraid. Now, even if only one of us came out victorious in this raffle the winner is permitted a plus one! Had either of you won instead I would have hoped that you'd allow me to tag along." "And yet Pa calls me the shyster. I am so proud of you.” Stanley wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Stanford glares at him before turning his attention towards Shermie who’d finally lifted his head. His expression was exasperated yet thoughtful making it clear that he, at least, wasn’t going to make such a huge deal of out it. Between Stanley and Shermie, the latter was much more academically inclined and when opportunity struck he tended to let it in and treat it like a friend. Paris, France was a place that these three boys from New Jersey would never in their wildest dreams imagine being able to visit - not with how much of a penny-pincher their father was. For a while all there had only been a pair of glasses between them which Stanley and Shermie had agreed to let Ford have indefinitely. ”This is a once in a life time ordeal, isn’t it?” Shermie questioned after letting the silence linger. They were teenagers with no real funds to their name. If they went to college it would have to be on a scholarship - Stanford had at least four lined up, Stanley could possibly go for football, and Shermie had his hands in a little bit of everything. Other than that, there was nothing for fancy trips to far off lands like France, so right here? Right now? Yeah, it definitely seemed as though this was going to be one of those once in a lifetime deals. The brothers looked at each other, Stanley sliding off the bed to punch Stanford in the arm before leaning against his shoulder while Shermie continued thinking. Finally he stood up and crossed his arms. "That was an underhanded trick you pulled Ford, but I can't say that I blame you and a trip to freaking France? The City of Love? We'd have to be crazy to pass up the opportunity." "Ugh, love," Stanley griped, immediately turning sour causing Shermie to look a little guilty while Ford rolled his eyes and elbowed him good-naturedly. His breakup with Carla McCorkle had been a messy one. Karma seemed to strike at both Carla and the boy she'd cheated on Stanley with, Thistle Downe, in the form of someone riding his van into a ravine. According to reports it had been someone dressed up in some sort of costume with a tail. Either way love was currently a big flaming no-no in the Stan Triplets's bedroom...except for Shermie. "Perhaps it would be in your best interest to invite Veronica along, Shermie." Ah, the turns immediately tabled as Stanley's frown disappeared to be replaced by the biggest, doofiest, mischievous grin he could muster while Shermie's face turned a nice shade of tomato red. He sputtered while Stanley darted out the room to make the call leaving Stanford to block his big brother in - the commotion the duo made their mother had to warn them about roughhousing in the house and to take that mess outside. Stanley snickered, his Ma gave him an idea. Outside and to his car he ran after hearing his brothers on the stairs. When they realized that Stanley wasn't inside the brothers raced outside to see Stanley checking his pockets for his keys. Suddenly Stanley was on the ground laughing after having been tackled by Shermie which left Stanford - innocent little Stanford - to head back inside and make the call himself. "Hello, Mrs. Carlyle? This is Stanford Pines. Is Veronica there?” There’s a particularly loud wheeze from outside that catches Stanford’s attention. He looks to his Ma and shrugs before going back to his call. “Hello, Ronnie? You won't believe the good news. Do you recall that contest I entered for the trip to Paris, France to study under THE William Chiffrer? Exciting news. Not only did I win, so did Stanley and Sherman. I...will explain later, but each of us gets to bring a plus one. I am cordially inviting you--"

Talon had seen the threat coming a mile away and he actually tried to draw attention to what was going on. With him being who he was he held rank in his uncle's organization, but it only extended so far especially when the side of evil thought they'd had the victory in the bag. It was the same song and dance time and time again. They thought they had the inspector, he'd goof around and somehow come out on top with the help of his niece, and then Claw would vow vengeance the next time they crossed paths. It got old, and Talon was tired. He was tired of constantly losing when he knew that he had the skills to come out on top. In fact, he was pretty sure he could overthrow his uncle instead of working as his underling, but as things were? His street cred had plummeted. All the losses caused by Penny and her uncle set him back time and time again. The villain circles he ran in started giving out awards for the most failed missions and he had somehow gained the lead. It was embarrassing and degrading and it was about time he'd think about his future. If he wanted to show the world he was more than just that bumbling oaf who happened to be Claw's nephew then he needed to branch out and re-establish himself, perhaps even go back to the drawing board. It was when he realized that no one was going to heed his words did he decide cut his losses. He'd grabbed Penny and her dumb dog and pulled them to safety with the parting words of, “Catch ya later, Penny,” before going back into the fray. He had a mini force field surrounding him which was, in theory, supposed to be strong enough to protect him from any type of explosion. He didn't think he'd actually be in a situation where he'd be testing this out, but he didn't have too much time. He was looking for something in particular before things went side ways. It was as though his eyes landing on his prize was the trigger which launched the explosion. He cursed, a bright light blinding him before he was propelled off his feet and backwards. He clicked his heels together until the rockets activated, and he hastily righted himself, but he still slammed against through the wall behind him. He should have snapped his back. He should have been covered in flames, but instead survived - barely able to get a handle on the situation. For one thing his force field was still holding up and he’d managed to what he’d gone back for - a bejeweled box which was what his uncle had been after. Luckily whatever he was holding was also covered by his forcefield. Not only that but this explosion was the chance he'd been waiting for - to get away from his uncle and lay low, preferably with a family member that was on the opposite side of the law. You know, a good guy. It helped that he’d been straddling the fence for months now - working with HQ a bit due to some sob story he’d fed Penny which meant he definitely had an alibi. People saw him save Penny. People knew that this scheme of his uncle’s had absolutely nothing to do with him. Whatever happened here couldn’t be pinned on him. Talon’s boots were totally ruined when he activated them - they only had a few seconds of righting him before the thrusters at the bottom went off in mini explosions that luckily hadn't harmed his feet - and found an agent of Claw that was roughly his size though totally unrecognizable. He removed his boots and shoved them onto the remains and dragging it over to a still burning flame. His forcefield protected his feet from the heat, but it wouldn't hold for too much longer. Even now the heat was already starting to penetrate and he had to run. With the forcefield having protected him from the brunt of the explosion some of his other tech remained as well. There was a prototype cloaking device he'd had installed that ran on the same 3D holographic projector tech he tended to use for a quick and easy disguise. He swapped modes and from his belt a little barely noticeable light extended, scanned his form, and bent the light around him making him appear invisible. He made it half a block invisibly before the forcefield conked out with the invisibility following next which meant that his 3D projector was also down for the count. He paid it no mind as he'd taken that into consideration and made sure to avoid any areas that seemed busy. He didn't need anyone to see him running around barefoot and covered in soot. Besides, no good villain worth their salt went around town without a cache of some sort and he was near his closest one. It was a rundown apartment building which, on the outside it just looked a little lopsided; could use a little TLC. On the inside? Oh, the building looked as though it should have been condemned before his Uncle Claw was born. It was perfect, and it was where Talon cleaned himself up, changed into a set of clothing that was not his typical purple though did include another set of rocket boots, and combed his hair flat on his head giving him those infamous "Boy Band Bangs" which were partially hidden by the hood from the jacket he'd decided to wear. He left the apartment and, despite knowing it was a bad idea, made his way back to the scene of the explosion. There were HQ agents, a bomb squad, the fire department and of course police officers everywhere as well as a crowd. He spotted Inspector Gadget who'd apparently made it out unscathed as usual, and he even saw a few of Claw's men being apprehended. He shook his head. There had never been a fight between him and HQ that had gone so far in as long as he could remember. He clicked his tongue and whispered, "C'est la vie," as he walked away - washing his hands of this botched operation as well as his Uncle Claw - for good. Once far enough away and pulled out his cellphone, took a deep breath and placed a call he'd never thought he'd make. "Hey Billy. It's, ugh, Tristan*. Is that offer for help still on the table?" William Thaw* sounded visibly confused on the other end of the line, most likely because he'd been sleeping at the time. When he realized that his cousin was in need of help he woke up just a bit more. "You need a place to stay, Mr. Big Shot Criminal?" That was not the tone that Talon was hoping to hear, but it wasn't entirely unexpected either. Most if not all of their family was evil including Billy's dad. Even their grandma was evil, but no one had really given Billy the memo so he turned out to be one of the good guys. With him and Talon being roughly the same age and having lived together with their grandma for a while, there was always some form of disagreement or the other, especially when Talon had learned of their family's history and chose to follow in their footsteps. It was why he'd swapped his name from Tristan to Talon as a sign of respect for his then role model Dr. Claw. "Is this the part where you give me a huge speech about right and wrong or heroism because if it is you can save it. I’ve branched away from Uncle Claw months ago and a good thing too because he messed up big time. I tried to tell him his plan was bunk from the get-go, but he went ahead with it anyway even after I warned him about a gas leak. Then I tried to tell the stupid henchmen that the explosives they were planting were going to trigger an even bigger explosion but I’m not on the payroll anymore and apparently a bigger explosion the better. They were so concerned with making sure they got Gadget - that’s their entire thing but...Usually no one gets fatally hurt and a few people did. That's not the kind of villainy I signed up for." For a moment he thought Billy'd hung up on him, but then he heard the ruffling of blankets and the clicking of what must have been a lamp being turned on. "People died?" "One as far as I was able to tell. I was caught in the blast too. ForcefieId tech saved me and I managed to get a few people out before the blast but yeah. I'm sure it'll be on the world news if it isn't already." "What do you want from me, Tris?" Hearing that nickname hurt. "I want to initiate protocol Redo." "Never thought you'd say that." The sound of Billy getting out of bed could be heard. Moments later the sound of a computer or laptop being booted up sounded through the line. "Tell me about it. I thought I had everything planned out. Didn’t take into account that Uncle Claw’s gotten senile in his old age." "Luckily we're both deceptively smart and plan for things that we don't think we'd ever need then, huh?" "You call that luck. I call that being smarter than everyone else. Even if you don’t think it’ll ever happen to you plan for it anyway, especially in this line of business.” ”Especially.” Talon finally stopped walking when he reached a twenty-four hour fast food place where he plugged in his phone and ordered something so that he wouldn't be bothered. "I assume you handled Talon?" "Died in the explosion that took out a few senior HQ agents and a few of Claw's henchmen. Identifiable only by his rocket boots." The line was silent aside from the clicking of keys. Talon ate silently while he listened to his cousin work. A few hours of Billy working he finally came to a stop. "Tristan Thaw is in the system once more. You did a thorough job of wiping him out. Can't say that I'm surprised. I've altered Talon’s files. You're now your own twin, congratulations. You were put up for adoption at a young age but there was a missing person's report due to you running away. Your file was closed because you were presumed dead. People will most likely stumble upon this now while trying to pull up information about Talon so...in the off chance that that happens. Call me, and I will say I've been hiding you in my dorm." "No. I can't do--" "You will, Tristan. Despite the incredible foolishness of this family it's the only one I have. Despite how everyone around me is a bad guy from the worst comic book tropes I've ever read, this family still manages to take care of each other. I'm in a boarding school because I didn't want to be part of the family business. Someone in the family is paying for me to be here. You've protected me inadvertently a few times, and Uncle Claw has taken me under his wing a time or two, and I am also the first person grandma taught her cookie recipe to. The point is, despite this family being nefarious in every sense of the word, we ALL protect each other, and you came to me for help. You did what you could to stop something horrible from happening, and it happened anyway. If worse comes to worse I'm sure Uncle Claw would help--" "Gonna stop you right there. I don't want his help, otherwise I'd have gone back to the lair. This is...let him think I'm dead. You're the only one who’ll know the truth." "Of course. Well, if you can manage to get from where you are to Paris there's an apartment that seems to have been paid for. Has been in my name for a while. I'm thinking Grandma made me a few safe houses just in case I decided to turn rotten, but you can stay there." "Thanks Billy." "You can thank me by not pulling this stunt again." "Or I'll just say thank you and move to your safehouse."

---TIME SKIP--- ONE MONTH LATER

When Billy told him about the safehouse in Paris he probably should have expected the place to be pretty well furnished and in a decent part of the city. It wasn’t exactly flashy, but it would probably garner the attention of his neighbors. Luckily he had a backstory figured out, a passport, a birth certificate and other documentation that he needed. Luckily for him there was nobody looking for him, and even if they were they certainly would have no reason to look for him in Paris. It was the perfect escape for him, and definitely gave him time to himself. He didn’t want to drop the villain thing, but if he wanted to become a huge contender then he was going to have to change his image. He was going to have to one up the competition and finally...he was going to have to down his uncle. For now, he had to start small. For now he had to blend in with the masses, build up a bit of a rep while staying in the shadows until he could build his own empire. Luckily for him he had a few connections already.

The three dorks staying across from him had arrived a few days after he moved in and made quite the impression. The one with the six fingers had bumped into him and apologized profusely for not paying attention to where he was walking and flailed his hands a bit. Talon, or rather Tristan made the faux pas of commenting on his fingers aloud which seemed to cause some embarrassment. Another boy, had to be a twin or something, heard the remark and was making his way over with his fists clenched causing Talon to remark that he’d never seen something so cool before. It seemed to be the right thing to say as all three of them somewhat relaxed while heading up the stairs. That’s where Talon encountered the third of them realizing that he was staying across from a set of triplets. It was a bit awkward at first, before the boy with the glasses answered his question about what they were doing in Paris. “I didn’t know that Willy had a contest going on. You guys must be pretty smart if he chose the three of you, and siblings to boot.” Of course Talon knew very well that Willy wasn’t exactly a good person. The guy was sophisticated in public, but in private he had a bit of sadistic streak and was pretty psychotic in some instances. Yeah the dude was an actual genius, but he also gathered great minds and exploited them. The fact that he’d gathered three brothers, triplets no less? Something was definitely going on. “You say that as though you know the man personally,” Stanford stated while his brother, the one with the slightly darker hair (Shermie) opened the door and Stanley carried some stuff inside. “Not at all,” he immediately shook his head. “I tried to enter his contest before as well. I actually made a hoverboard--” “Like from Back to the Future?” Stanley asked as he kicked his box into the room. Talon nodded and said,"Exactly like that," while Stanford looked skeptical. That was the start of their...he wouldn’t exactly call it a friendship but it was pretty close. --------------------- Adrien hadn’t been expecting to be invited to the triplet’s apartment building after their initial gathering and photo-op with William and his father, but he had accepted the invite anyway seeing as it would allow him to spend some time with teenagers his age while using his father’s tactics against him. “I was supposed to meet up and help the Pines’s today for an hour before meeting Kagami for our fencing lesson? His father had simply nodded through the tablet monitor that Nathalie was holding. Adrien took off soon after that with G manning the car. When he’d arrived at the apartment it was to an open door and the triplets arguing over what they wanted to do first. There was also another boy there, arms crossed and back against the wall with a smirk on his face. Adrien had the feeling that he’d been the cause of this little argument. “Am I early?” he’d asked which drew the triplet’s attention. “Yer right on time, Aiden.” “His name is Adrien, be nice.” The identical brothers bickered between themselves while Sherman shook his head and beckoned for Adrien to come inside before closing the door. “Just go. It’s not a big deal.” All eyes turned to Talon who pushed off the wall and raised his hands. “Of course it’s a big deal! He can take his girl all over Paris after we celebrate. We’ve been here for a week and haven’t burned our apartment down. This is a cause for celebration! Let the Pines Brothers party for a day,” Stanley argued with his arms crossed. Shermie just covered his face in his hands and sighed. "Or we can go get Ronnie since she may as well be a Pines, grab some snacks and celebrate here?” “Stanford Filbrick Pines--” The two outsiders watched in amusement as Sherman tried to grab the six fingered boy who ducked behind Stanley and then into the kitchenette practically dragging the loudmouthed boy with him. “So um, who are--” “I live across the hall. Gotta admit these guys have been the best entertainment I could have possibly asked for. What about you, Mr. Agreste? Working a charity case here?” Adrien was partially confused and partially offended by the question. “Not at all. I was invited over.” “Oh, that makes more sense.” He hadn’t elaborated on that making Adrien narrow his eyes before the triplets re-emerged from wherever they’d been in the apartment. Stanley had his arms crossed while Stanford was scowling. Shermie looked far less ruffled than the other two which meant he’d proven his point. "Sorry about that, you two. The plan is we’re going to call my friend to have her meet us here then head out for a celebratory get together. Since you two are the only people we know here we’d thought you’d be up to joining us?” The fact that Adrien had made three new friends who wanted to hang out with him brought a smile to his face, but then he thought about his obligations and the other friends he’d had to turn down. His smile turned a bit sad before he shook his head. "I’m really sorry you guys, but I can’t stay for very long. My schedule is booked solid. The only reason I was able to slip out was because I told my father that I had to help you three for an hour before I have to practice my fencing.” Talon lunged at the air in front of him, swinging around an imaginary rapier before snorting, “Can you be any more of a cliche?” Even Stanley cracked a smile at that before lunging towards Talon with his arm out, the two of them swiping at each other with their invisible weapons, Stanley beginning to talk like a pirate while Shermie was in the process of calling Ronnie to let her know of their plans. “Ignore them,” Stanford said while giving his brother and Talon a glare that went completely ignored. “It’s what I do when they get like this.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” was Adrien’s annoyed reply. A second later he found himself being dragged into the sword fight by Talon before Stanley grabbed an unwilling-to-participate Stanford. “My first mate will absolutely swab the deck with ye’s!” “Stanley no.” “Cap’n Lee thinks he kin board me ship and spread ‘is tall tales, but we’s a learn’em.” “Tristan don’t encourage him!” Stanford’s words went ignored as Talon managed to grabbed a decorative pillow from the couch and chucked it at the six fingered boy yelling, “CANNON BALL!”. Taking it as an immediate out, Stanford dramatically fell to the floor, sat up and positioned the thrown pillow beneath his head, and then laid back again. “Nooooo, Sixer! I shall avenge ye!” He ran towards Talon only to be intercepted by Adrien as he slid in front of the other boy. Stanley’s eyes widened, surprised at Adrien’s speed, and he tried to stop before colliding. Adrien moved out of the way as quickly as he’d come while Talon remained there holding out another of the pillows which he used to smack Stan in the face as he came to a stop. Stanley dropped to the ground dramatically like Stanford had and made gurgling noises since the unwritten/impromptu rule was that the pillows were cannon balls. The four boys laughed before Stanford got up and put the pillows away with a shake of his head. Stanley was glad to have managed to get his brother to participate. It had been a long time since they’d done something like this and it made him think that this trip to Paris was a good idea, especially after having met “Tristan’ and Adrien.

#femmechanceux #—Swindler's Folly #► Opossumus Prime #► Triple Threat #► Gadget HQ #—X-0vers #Tristan is Talon's name in the French version #William Thaw is the son of Dr. Thaw #Billy and Dr. Thaw are both from Gadget and the Gadgetinis #Dr. Thaw is Dr. Claw's Twin

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cheeseeatingtrashmonster · 5 years ago

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Be My Lois Lane (Marichat May) Chapter 4: Birthday

Ao3

"You're sure the Miraculous magic is strong enough to disguise my voice?" Adrien asked Plagg.

"Look, kid, I may be weakened without my other half, but I'm not some frail, sickly little thing like the Peacock, okay?" Plagg gulped down a Camembert wedge in one piece and laid on his back on the couch, rubbing his belly. "I still don't get why you have to call her again. You just saw her a couple of hours ago."

"As Adrien. I'm calling her as Chat."

"But why?"

"She's the one who decides what the public thinks about me. It'd be nice to start off on a better foot than what she thinks of me so far."

Plagg gave a dramatic sigh. "Let's get this over with."

Adrien transformed, put the scrap of paper with Marinette's phone number in his pocket, crept out of his window, and bounded out into the night.

Earlier that day

Adrien stepped into the coffee shop and knew he had to get decaf. He was practically vibrating out of his skin. Marinette might be able to find Ladybug! He had to ask her still, but that’s why they were having this meetup.

He spotted Marinette in line for coffee and joined her.

"Thanks for meeting me," Adrien said.

"Any friend of Nino's is a friend of mine," she said.

"That's my line!"

They reached the counter and a man with shocking red hair greeted them.

"Marinette! I didn't know you were coming here today!"

"I texted Marc!"

"They're always forgetting their phone."

"Adrien, this is Nathaniel. He, his partner Marc, Nino, and I all went to high school together. We were the nerdy art kids. Nath, this is Nino's friend from work, Adrien."

They exchanged greetings and coffee orders, and Adrien and Marinette went to claim a table.

"Nath and Marc opened this place a couple of years ago," Marinette said. "Marc was still in the middle of their business degree when they did."

"I like the superhero theme," Adrien said, glancing around at the murals on the walls.

"Business really picked up after that stupid alley cat started running around." She wrinkled her nose. "They even have that awful picture from the paper hanging behind the counter."

"I'm telling you, it's not a bad picture of you," Adrien said, trying not to smirk.

"Here you go," Nath said, bringing their drinks over personally. "And a muffin for the birthday girl. I didn't make cupcakes this morning because I didn't think I'd see you today."

"You don't need to give me a muffin-" Nath had started walking away, hands covering his ears, pretending he couldn't hear her. "Thank you! Dork."

Marinette turned back to Adrien, ducking her head a little. Her cheeks had more pink than a moment before, and Adrien found himself smiling at her shyness.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"Thank you." She started picking at her muffin. "So, you were kinda vague in your messages about what I could help you with. What's up?"

Adrien took a breath. The jitters came back in full force. "You are the first person I really know with investigative skills who is also part of the fashion scene in Paris."

Marinette's eyebrows drew together. “Okay…”

“I want to find someone.”

Marinette's heart rate picked up. She was already trying very hard to play it cool. A literal supermodel had asked her to coffee for help with a vague problem. Now she was finally getting to know what she could do, and honestly, she was excited. There would be some jumping up and down and screaming and dancing Shadow around the apartment later.

"There's a designer I met a few months ago. I don't know her name. I can't really look for her myself because I don't want word getting around that I'm looking for her. So I was hoping, if you don't mind, you would help me? I would pay you for your time, of course."

A sense of cold dread started trickling down her spine. She tried to convince herself it was just the air conditioning.

"I, uh, I can probably help. I'd feel bad taking your money, though, because I'm just starting out." Adrien started to protest, but she cut him off with a raised hand. "I insist! It'll be a favor for a new friend, okay?"

Adrien hesitated, then nodded, a small smile on his face. "Okay. But I'll owe you a big favor in return, alright?"

"That works for me! So, who are you looking for?"

His smile grew. "Her name is Ladybug."

It wasn't the air conditioning.

"What do I do? Why did I say yes? This is a disaster!"

Marinette was pacing her apartment, Shadow following her and living up to his name. She had her phone to her ear, and the other was waving wildly.

"Why is this a disaster?" Alya asked. "A hot, rich guy in your chosen field of work wants to find you. And don't think you're getting out of explaining to me why you didn't tell me about the hours you spent flirting with Adrien Agreste right after it happened."

"Uh, my mom was in the hospital?" She stopped walking and Shadow took advantage to wind around her legs, mewling at her.

"Oh, yeah, that was awful. How's she doing?"

"Really well. She says hi, by the way."

"Aw, I need to stop by the bakery and give her a hug. So why didn't you tell me at any point in the last six months after we knew your mom would be okay?"

Marinette whined in annoyance. "Because... I don't know! It was just such a nice moment, and I figured I would never meet him again, so I just wanted to, like, hold on to it for myself." She sat where she was, in the middle of the floor, and pulled Shadow onto her lap. "And now I've met him again, and we're kinda becoming friends, and he wants me to find... myself."

Alya's voice had softened after that rant. "And again I ask: that's a problem why?"

"Remember why I transferred to your university and hid my real name from everyone I could?"

"Oof. Yeah. The design thief. What's she got to do with Adrien?"

"The first company she went to when trying to drive me out of fashion was the Gabriel brand. She works there now. If Adrien's trying to get Ladybug to work for Gabriel, I'll be ruined when they figure out that Ladybug is me. Oh! Or what if his father wanted him to look for Ladybug to drive her out of business? My shop is small, but it could be seen as competition. Or maybe-"

"Woah, Marinette, chill! You don't know that any of that is true."

Shadow's ears perked up suddenly. He dove off Marinette's lap and sat in front of the sliding glass door to the fourth-floor balcony, staring into the darkness with the same intensity he gave the youtube video of birds Marinette liked to play for him.

"I don't know that it's not, either. I'm not risking my business. The online boutique is doing well, and at this rate, I'll have enough saved up to open a small physical store at the end of next year."

"What if he's asking about Ladybug because he enjoyed talking to you at that fashion show? What if you're his Cinderella?"

Marinette snorted. "Yeah, that'll be the day."

Marinette's phone beeped. She pulled it away from her ear and found an unknown number on call waiting.

"Hey, Al? Mind if we talk more tomorrow? I've got another call."

The girls said goodnight and Marinette took the incoming call.

"Hello?"

"Miss Dupain-Cheng. It's nice to hear your voice under less un-fur-tunate circumstances than those of our first meeting."

Marinette frowned. Who in the world was calling her to deliver bad cat puns at quarter past eleven at night?

"I'm sorry," she started, "who is-"

"Oh, how rude of me," the caller interrupted. "This is your friendly neighborhood superhero."

Marinette blinked a few times. Was this a prank? Had Chloe found her phone number and gotten some guy to pretend to be Chat Noir?

"You're telling me that you're Chat Noir?"

"Yes. And you're Marinette! Now that we've straightened that out-"

"Who put you up to this?" she interrupted. "My first guess is Chloe, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of the others in the department at work thought this would be funny."

"I- what? No, it's really me."

"Why would I believe that?" She got as close to crossing her arms as she could while holding the phone to her ear. "You're the hero of Paris, and known to be wary of the press. Why would you call me up out of the blue if you really were Chat Noir?"

"I... okay," he said, speech slowing, "I didn't plan on having to convince you of who I am. What would convince you of who I am?"

"What did you say to the guy you rescued me from? Right when you showed up? Only Chat would know that."

"That... why did you have an answer for that so quickly? Do you think up ways to make people you meet prove they're who they are often?"

"Sounds like you're stalling."

"I'm not-! Okay, let me think. He was... some kind of banana... fruit salad guy... I said something about you being too pink and not a good accessory for his outfit, I think? This was a week ago, so I don't remember exactly."

Marinette hummed, pursing her lips. Was there any chance someone had overheard them? Probably not. So that meant-

"Holy crap, Chat Noir called me on my cell phone."

Chat laughed. "You believe me now?"

She covered her face with her free hand. "Yes. Sorry I bidn't delieve you- Sorry I didn't believe you!" Curse that nervous stumbling of her tongue! "So, Chat Noir. What can I help you with?"

"A little birdie told me that you're the new Chat Noir reporter for The Daily Planet," he said. "I got curious. Cats and curiosity, you know? So I figured I'd give you a call, get to know you a little."

"Do you have an in at the paper?" she asked.

“Maybe.”

"Yes, I'm your new reporter. That stupid picture of you saving me got me pigeon-holed into reporting on you instead of the position I actually wanted."

"Hmm. You sound, purr-haps, unhappy with this assignment?"

She sighed. "It's not you. It's that there was another job I liked better. And, from the little research I've managed to do on you so far, you've avoided or turned down literally every interview, picture, or question since you showed up. Sounds like I won't be getting many quotes from you, which makes my job harder."

"I am sorry about that. I take my job very seriously, so I don’t want the distraction of interviews, and I very much don’t want my hero life and personal life at any risk of mixing."

"Then why did you call? If you're not going to work with me, why take the time to hunt down my phone number?"

"I told you, curiosity."

"You know I could probably write about six articles from this conversation alone, right?"

He gave a small laugh. "Oh, but my research on you didn't stop at your phone number, Princess. You're not the type to print something I haven't okayed. You put the 'integrity' in 'journalistic integrity' from what I hear."

"Princess? Are you serious with that nickname?"

"Hmm, maybe not. I'll think of some others."

Her instincts were still nagging at her. "And you really called just to test out your theory that I'm a good person?"

"Okay, you got me," he said. "My research also found out another little fact about you."

"And what's that?"

"Go out on your balcony."

"...Seriously?"

He laughed again. "Just do it, please?"

Marinette scooped Shadow up from where he was napping in front of the door and held him to her chest so he couldn't get into trouble on the balcony. She pinned her phone between her ear and her shoulder and opened the door.

"Look down."

At first, she thought he meant down on the ground, stories below. Then her eyes fell on something shiny on the floor of the balcony near the bars. She picked it up and took it inside, setting Shadow down while she stared at the item in her hands.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Open it."

She opened the box wrapped in silver paper. Inside was a beautiful, high-quality notebook- just the right size for a reporter to keep in her purse- and a fancy pen that felt just right in her hand.

"I- why did- thank you?" She shook her head. "Why the gift?"

"A reporter needs a good notebook and pen," he said. "And I'm sure you know that cats like leaving 'gifts' for people." That got a small chuckle out of her. "But I dropped it off because of that detail I found out about you." He paused, and she turned to squint out the balcony door into the dark streets below. "Happy birthday, Marinette."

She frowned at the box in her hands. "Wait, how did you-"

He hung up.

Marinette sighed and sat on the floor again, petting a sleepy Shadow where he had curled next to the couch. "He's clever," she said. "If he's going to be difficult about interviews, then I'm going to have to be clever to get what I need so I can write about him."

Shadow stretched, yawned, and got up to walk away.

"This job might be a little bit fun after all."

She opened her journal, uncapped her pen, and started taking notes. She wouldn't use anything from his phone call in any articles, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to save the information for her own use.

Chat replayed his conversation with Marinette in his head, hand still on the phone he had just placed back on the receiver, and let himself smile. He would remain a mystery to the city in all the important ways- who he was, where he lived, who was important to him- but Marinette would probably be good for his image overall. She didn't really hate him, as she had tried to convince Adrien earlier that day, and last week at the fashion show. One phone call, one small gift, and she sounded much less angry.

At home, Adrien fed Plagg and settled down with a book. He was just getting to the good part when Plagg floated over the pages to sit blocking his view of the words.

"So, did that conversation go as you planned?" Plagg asked.

"Yeah, it pretty much did," he said. "She could be a very useful ally." He tried to hide a smile as he brushed Plagg out of the way of his book. "And it sounds like she'll have some fun with the job, now that she knows getting information from me will be a challenge."

Plagg sighed. "So long as I get my cheese, you can flirt and play games with Reporter Girl as much as you want."

Adrien rolled his eyes and gave Plagg another piece of cheese. "Maybe I will. I think we'd both enjoy a game of... cat and mouse."

Plagg gave a long-suffering sigh. It was always like this before his Chat identified his Ladybug. Hopefully, these kids will figure it out quickly. If only for his sanity.

#marichatmay2019 #miraculous ladybug #marichat #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #marichat may #superhero/reporter AU #Be My Lois Lane #my writing #events

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queertazsecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Bird Feed

A gift for @call-me-page, created by @aphaceland!

Happy Candlenights!

Title: Bird Feed

“Lup, that better not be the fresh bread you’re feeding them.”

“They deserve the best, Taako.”

Ever since the two of them opened up the Bready or Not Bakery, people had been flocking to the twins to get their fill of the kickass pastries they made. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones flocking. At first it was a group of pigeons that swarmed a warm bun that someone dropped on the sidewalk outside. Then word traveled to the sparrows and seagulls after some poor soul dropped their cupcake frosting-side down, sending sprinkles scattering across the curb. The most recent freeloaders had been a bunch or ravens or crows or whatever cawing up a storm right in front of the shop. At this point Taako had had enough and Lup wasn’t helping at all.

“That’s probably not even good for them.” Taako said, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame.

“As long as it’s not all they’re eating it’s fine. Just a little snacky snack for some good birdy boys,” she said in a sing-song voice. Great, his sister was baby talking to a bunch of dirty street birds.

“Alright, suit yourself. Just know that ya boy, that’s me, hi, is gonna take your tips if you don’t get your butt inside and help me make the rest of the muffins before the store opens.”

At that, Lup gets up, dusts herself off, and runs back inside, glancing back only once to see the gathering of various birds enjoying the crumbs she left behind. Only after the birds finished their small snack did a raven, much larger than the other ones present, land right in the middle of the frenzy. The other birds flew off, leaving the raven looking for what was left. The large raven flew over to the side of the shop, right beside the display case that Taako was setting up for the day. The raven perched itself on the windowsill and pecked at the glass.

Taako only spared a single cursory glance the raven’s way before he went back to setting up. It was enough that he had to get out of bed early to make the pastries, but he had to arrange the display just right so that it was all appealing as fuck. The taste was already amazing, natch, but you need to make sure the people actually bothered to buy it first. He was positioning a cheesecake slice so that strawberry was just perfect under the lighting when the raven pecked at the glass again.

“What?” he asked, nearly dropping the cake in the process.

The raven pointed its beak insistently at the display. Taako couldn’t tell what exactly it was pointing at, but that hardly mattered anyway.

“Sorry, my man. You missed the feeding frenzy like a minute ago,” he shrugged, not sorry in the slightest. The raven only shook its head and ruffled its feathers, pointing again at the counter. Taako looked over at where the beak was pointing and saw the bowl of elderflower macarons.

“Nope. This is a Taako o-ri-gi-nal. Paying customers only.”

He was talking to a bird. A smart bird, but a bird nonetheless. He made a shooing motion with his hand and it seemed to have finally gotten the message. It flew off to leave Taako in relative peace before the morning rush started.

The raven, however, was not deterred. He waited patiently, with puffed up feathers, outside of the door, not quite feeling the cold breeze of the brisk autumn day. He had closed his eyes and nearly drifted off when he heard the telltale ‘ding!’ of the bell over the door being rung. Someone was going inside. Seizing the opportunity, the raven hopped up and walked in before the door slammed shut. Too short to be within line of sight, he walked over to the back room, making sure his talons didn’t clack too loudly against the tile.

Inside, he saw the elf from before. He looked engrossed in his baking. He was kneading dough for some confection when a kitchen timer went off. The raven clambered underneath a table and tried to hide in the shadows. Taako didn’t seem to notice him, though, and went over to the oven to pull out a tray of cinnamon rolls. The smell of fresh cinnamon wafted through the room, spurring the raven into action.

The raven flew out from under the table directly at Taako. He flared out his wings and yelled, mimicking the elf’s voice. “TAAKO O-RI-GI-NAL!”

Taako jumped with a yelp and fumbled the tray. A few cinnamon rolls fell before he could right it, though the screaming fucking bird in his kitchen was currently taking priority. The raven swooped down and grabbed a roll before it hit the ground and attempted to fly away. However, this gave Taako an opportunity to attack. He put the tray down and grabbed the bird’s leg. It flapped uselessly in his hand, clutching its stolen prize for dear life.

“What the fuck!” he yelled.

A few seconds later, Lup burst in with her wand at the ready. The confused and somewhat frightened expressions of the customers were visible for the few seconds the door was open. Lup looked around the room, seemingly searching for another person. Her worried expression turned deadpan when she saw her brother holding a bird that was awkwardly trying to free its leg.

“Goddamn it Taako, it sounded like you were being murdered in here.”

“Worse!” He pointed the raven at her. “This is what happens when you feed the birds, Lup.”

The raven had certainly found itself in a sticky situation. He could already feel the effects of the polymorph spell wearing off. He threw his head back, trying to eat the cinnamon roll before he turned back. Unfortunately he couldn’t even have that. Taako grabbed the part of the roll that was still hanging out of his beak and threw it out.

“Just toss it out the back door. And wash your hands, you don’t know where it’s been.” Lup said.

“Oh yeah, says the one who was feeding them the good bread in the first place. What happened to your good birdy boys, huh?” he teased, but walked to the backdoor anyway.

At that point, the raven was relieved. He may not have gotten the whole thing, but just tasting it would suffice. More importantly, he needed to get somewhere private or else the spell would end right in the middle of-

It sucked that it was an instantaneous transformation. Suddenly, instead of Taako holding a mischievous raven with half a cinnamon roll in his mouth, he was holding a grown man with half a cinnamon roll in his mouth. By the leg. The sudden shift in weight caused them both to fall over.

Taako was taken entirely by surprise. And, nope! He did not like that shit one bit. He pushed the man roughly off of him. “What the fuck is your- oh shit you’re actually kinda hot.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? I didn’t- I didn’t think it was going to go like that,” the man said.

“What did you expect to happen?” Lup said, now thoroughly confused.

Taako took the time to study the man as he and Lup argued. Well, it was more Lup arguing and him apologizing. He had shoulder-length dreads and a tastefully short beard. He was fully gothed out, with a black suit, skull patterned tie, and raven skull earrings. Taako also noticed the barest hint of fangs as he spoke. Fuckin’ nice.

“So, what’s your story? Any reason you, uh, busted into my shop, bird boy?” Taako said, almost certainly interrupting his and Lup’s conversation.

The man regarded Taako for a moment and Taako hoped he was checking him out. He fixed his tousled hair and rolled over onto his side so he could have a good look. Lup rolled her eyes.

“Um, my name is Kravitz and I’m not usually a bird. It’s just… the food here is so good and I don’t have any money-”

“You don’t have any money?” the twins asked in disbelief, gesturing at his immaculate suit.

“What, your sugar daddy’s holding out on you?” Taako asked with a giggle in his voice.

Kravitz frowned. “I don’t- I’m not- I don’t have one of those, so no. My job doesn’t really have a salary?”

Mild disbelief turned into full-fledged suspicion. What the hell was this guy talking about? “What do you even work as?” Lup asked.

Kravitz took note of the fact that she still hadn’t lowered her wand, so he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t exactly tell these people he was a reaper for the Raven Queen. If word got out that the literal Grim Reaper uses the powers that his Queen gifted him to get food from a local bakery, his reputation would take a massive hit. Especially since he technically doesn’t need to eat in the first place. Gods, he wanted this moment to be over.

“I work… as a… mortician.” Kravitz cringed at his own answer.

Taako rested his chin in his hand and cocked his head to the side. “Pretty sure they get paid.”

“They get paid more than us, I know that much.”

Kravitz stood. “Look, I’m sorry for the trouble and the mess. I really don’t have any money. I can find something to give you, though.”

He reached into his pockets and felt the jingling of trinkets he had collected on the job, as well as the occasional reward from the Raven Queen. He would hate to give those up, so he only pulled out a pair of earrings and a necklace he found on a previous job. They weren’t his style anyway. The earrings were both gold with sparkling rubies dangling from a chain. The necklace was probably part of that set. It was also gold, but it had several chains of dazzling rubies adorning the front. He preferred to wear cool colors, and this looks good enough to cover the losses.

“Um, is this good?”

Both twins practically ran into him to get a good look. Lup snatched up the earrings while Taako inspected the necklace. Their eyes widened as they appraised the jewelry and gave each other a look. Strings of anxiety knotted up in Kravitz’ chest. He hoped it was enough. He clutched the silver pocket watch his Queen gave him after his last job. There’s no way he’d give this one up.

“Yeah, that just about covers it, my man.” Taako said, putting the necklace on. It didn’t fit with the whole ‘flour-covered apron’ look he had going on, but Taako made it work. Taako always made it work.

Kravitz sighed in relief. “Well, if that’s it, I should probably get going.”

“Hold on a second, there’s still an issue we gotta deal with. Lup, could you uh, check out the customers out front, see how they’re doing?”

Lup looked at him, then Kravitz, then back at him. She sighed and put her wand back in her pocket. “Only because you helped me with Barry.”

Kravitz felt even more nervous with only one twin in the room. Taako eyed him up and down and Kravitz felt the need to stand up straighter under his scrutiny.

“So I take it you’re gonna be back tomorrow, yeah? You thinkin’ of going as a bird again or what?”

Kravitz cleared his throat. “No. I’d like to avoid… all of this from happening again. Thanks for taking my offer, and sorry again for… everything.”

Well damn. This guy was way too sweet. Taako was beginning to feel bad for taking advantage of the guy. What he gave them was way more than enough to cover the three cinnamon rolls he dropped. Lup would probably feed them to the birds anyway. Taako sighed dramatically, prompting Kravitz to cock his head to one side as if he’s trying to figure out if he said something wrong. Damn, he was cute. Taako strode over to the tray of cinnamon rolls and tossed Kravitz one.

“Here, since you like those so much. Look, I’ll be real with you. Since you have like no understanding of money whatsoever, I’ll be nice and let you know that this,” he gestures to the necklace, “is way more expensive than a few cinnamon rolls. Now, I’m deffo keeping it, but I figured since you’re such a hungee boy I’d make you something even better.”

Kravitz’ eyes widened and a barely subdued smile crept onto his face. “Like a chocolate cake?”

At that, Taako sported his own lopsided grin. “Yeah, fuck it. I was gonna go for dinner, too. Make a night of it y’know.”

“Taako, I-” he paused to consider his next words. “Thank you. You really don’t have to do this you know.”

“I know, there is no end to my generosity, is there?” Taako turned and searched the top shelf, pulling out a pen and clicking it a few times before walking over to Kravitz. “You got a phone, homie?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before he started scrawling his number on Kravitz’ palm. “No, but I’ll send a raven.”

Taako paused in his writing and looked up to give him another look of utter confusion and disbelief. He was met with a shit-eating grin. Taako rolled his eyes and continued writing. “You ass.”

Kravitz laughed at his own joke like a dork, and also maybe a little bit at how the pen tickled his hand. “I’ll be sure to bring you something pretty.”

Taako definitely wasn’t opposed to that. His wardrobe needed some upgrades, but he was literally doing this because Kravitz got him something too pretty. Well, that and because he’s hot.

“Just bring your cute face and you’re all set, then. Anyway, text me later, I’ll give you the details, cool?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, looking at the number written messily on his hand. “Cool.”

“Alright, it’s a date. Now get out of my kitchen.” Taako said, pushing him out the back door.

Even as he was being shoved out, Kravitz felt a smile, wide and genuine, on his face. That went better than he could’ve ever expected. The back alley he found himself in was a perfectly private place to portal himself back into the Astral Plane. He went to his quarters before his Queen could tease him about the dopey smile that had no plan on leaving his face any time soon. He sat at his desk and added Taako’s contact to his phone. He held the phone to his chest as he swiveled from side to side in his office chair. Then he stopped and slammed his hands on the desk.

“Wait, did he say date?”

#call-me-page #aphaceland #queercandlenights #taz #the adventure zone #taakitz #fic #submission

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ladyscientia · 8 years ago

Text

Tempus Vernum Ep.4

That one time you met Prompto Argentum.

Ignis x Reader Spoilers below the cut

Episode Three: That one time you fell asleep at work.

-13 YEARS AGO-

The Industrial District of Gralea comes into view before the partially cracked windshield of your dad’s old pick up truck. He’s driving and you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat. You both gape, passing through labyrinths of metal, spire-like smoke stacks. Buildings with chrome trim are sheathed in ice from the perpetual winter. Thousands of tiny lights along board walks and nearly invisible ladders pulse softly behind sheets of falling snow.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” your dad says, accidentally swerving into the next lane. A government vehicle is escorting you to the capital and blasts out a long honk to keep your dad in line.

The highway starts a steady incline until it’s part of a massive concrete bridge passing OVER the factories. As the truck climbs up, you can start to see the tops of skyscrapers.

“You’re sure you want to do this, pigeon?” He asks seriously.

You glance in the rear view mirror at the car following closely behind. You couldn’t turn back now if you wanted to.

“I’m sure,” you say with stoic resolve, pressing the side of your face to the passenger window. Your breath fogs the glass.

“It was nice of your aunt to send you some gil.” Says your dad to break the silence. “But I wish you would’ve asked your mom. She’s got more than enough to go around.”

You scoff.

At the highest point of the bridge, all of Gralea spreads from one end of the windshield to the other. From afar, it looks like one massive, twisted gray and chrome structure jutting up from the earth.

Your dad takes gentle hold of your hand.

He reminds you; “there are great schools in Altissia.”

“DAD. I’ve made up my mind. If I go here, you’ll - WE’LL be set for life.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, honey. I know they’re accepting you on a full scholarship and everything, but the Empire will want you to work exclusively for them. It’s like enlisting -”

“ - I know, dad. We’ve been through this a million times. This is the right choice. Just trust me.”

He moves his hand from yours and to the radio controls. A gloriously sad, symphonic melody swells throughout the cab of the truck and then the city swallows you both whole.

-PRESENT-

“Morning, Mam!” Anju greets you at the doors of the castle as per usual. She’s bright-eyed; her smile gleaming in the early morning light.

The sun is a magnificent gold medallion cresting the horizon behind you. Delicious shafts of yellow light penetrate the cold, breaking through clouds and fawning on the entire front of the castle. A subtle breeze whistles past your ears. Your hair goes flying.

Eine opens the front doors for you and you step inside the lobby with over-tired, unjustifiable enthusiasm. You can be happy because the sun’s out, right?

All of that splendid, happy light spills into the lobby as you enter. The marble floors light up from your feet, down the center, and all the way up the grand staircase.

You exhale, ousting the nervous energy that’s been building up slowly deep inside of you.

Today is going to be a good day. I will shadow Ignis and it’s not a big deal.

Teasing tendrils of sunlight burst through the front windows and cast sparkles on every surface. You nod your head to yourself, building up confidence.

Yes. I can do this.

Just before the big doors close, a figure emerges from the exposed second floor corridor. You recognize it almost immediately even from 100 yards away. There’s no one like Ignis Scientia. He enters out onto the balcony at the top of the stairs and right into the sanctimonious spot light of the mid-winter sun.

“Awh! Sunlight!” he shouts as if from the hilltops. “Isn’t it marvelous, Miss Vernum?”

“How did you know it was me?” you ask with unbidden curiosity.

Ignis grins and hustles down the stairwell. “The earpiece. Eine informed me of your arrival.”

“Did he tell you that the sun was out too?”

“Well, I can sense light. But I could also feel it’s centrifugal glow radiating on my face.” He responds taking long-legged strides in your direction.

You whip your work keys from your coat pocket accidentally sending them flying across the marble. They go sliding toward Ignis and in one swift clap, he traps them beneath the foot of his fancy left shoe.

“Drop something?” he asks, amused, and slips his index finger through the key ring. He swings them around with ease. The keys ‘clink, clink’ as they spin ‘round and ‘round. You’re momentarily hypnotized.

The castle main doors slam shut and the reverberation snaps you out of your daze.

“Thank you,” you say. You close your hand over his and take hold of the keys. He trails behind you to the office. You’ve become way too aware of the sounds your heels are making on the floor.

Just as you notice that there isn’t a can of Ebony waiting for you at your door, Ignis says, “I’ve had Talcott run out for breakfast, if that’s alright. I’m afraid we’ll be sitting in the office for a bit discussing your new roles.”

“Talcott?” you ask, inserting the key.

“He’s my assistant. And a dear friend to the Crown.”

You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the coat rack before sitting down. The old chair makes an embarrassingly loud creaking sound. The wheels squeal as you scoot it up closer to the desk. (Geez. He must think I’m HUGE). Ignis takes one of the guest seats on the other side of the desk, casually crossing one leg over the other. His pant legs rise over his ankles, revealing chocobo-printed dress socks. He is the perfect portrait of POISE.

There’s a subtle knock on the door and before you can say a word, Ignis chimes out, “come in, Talcott!”

A young man enters with both arms carrying tall paper bags. They conceal most of his face. He’s got on a fur-lined winter hat, and messy brown hair peeks out across his forehead.

“Oh, over here on the desk,” you instruct, as it looks like everything’s about to tumble to the floor. You push aside piles of unread paperwork and a coffee mug you forgot to wash from the day before.

Ignis raises from his seat and relieves one of the bags from Talcott’s arms.

“That bag is from the market,” says Talcott briskly. “It has everything you asked for except that one thing. And I’ll take this one upstairs.”

That one thing?

Ignis brings the market bag around the desk and sets it on the counter top beside the Keurig. You shoved all that paperwork away for nothing. You sigh.

“Thank you, Talcott. That’ll be all for now.” says Ignis nonchalantly. He begins pulling things out of the bag. Talcott flicks you a rosey-cheeked smile, nods, and exits. You kick the chair back and wheel yourself with lazy inquisitiveness over to the counter.

You are immediately SO GLAD that you woke up too late to eat breakfast at home. Ignis sets before you a plethora of basic breakfast wonders; two of the biggest, fluffiest muffins you’ve ever seen, a small netted bag of different fruits, a loaf of fresh bread, a jar of homemade jam, and of course two cans of Ebony. In curly, gold lettering beneath the Ebony logo, it says, “Altissian Toffee.”

“There’s Altissian Toffee Ebony coffee??” you ask.

Ignis smiles and hands one of the cans to you. “Yes. I thought you might like that.”

Ok. This work partnership is starting off on the right track.

“I don’t think I could eat all of this food though,” you say, though you most DEFINITELY could eat all of it. You roll yourself back over to the desk, balancing a muffin and mandarin in the crook of your arm. Ignis follows suit and re-assumes the position in the chair across from you. There’s a simultaneous popping as you both open you Ebony at the same time.

The early morning passes smoothly. Ignis makes 99% of the conversation, explaining to you the tasks you’ll slowly be taking over that he’s been doing in the absence of a proper Royal Secretary. He asks you how you’re feeling about things so far, what you think of the team, how Sam’s treating you, and if you have any questions. You don’t. He continues. This is like this. That is like that.

Another knock at the door interrupts the lesson. Sam pokes his head inside.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says somewhat curtly. “I did try to reach you via com, but you know what? It doesn’t look like you’re wearing it.”

You bring your hand up to your face. Nope. Definitely not wearing it.

“I’m so sorry,” you wince. “I promise I’ll try to be better!”

“I’m not talking about you.” Says Sam, planting a hand on his hip.

You look across the desk to Ignis and realize he’s taken his ear piece out. When did he do that?

“My apologies,” replies Ignis. He turns in the seat to direct his voice towards Sam. “I wanted to limit unnecessary interruptions during our meeting. So I trust this is important.”

“Prompto Argentum is here to see you and requests your audience immediately.”

Ignis shifts somewhat uneasily in his seat and pauses as if to figure out WHY this person is here to see him.

“Well, send him in. Now.” He sounds authoritative and it gives you the chills.

Sam recedes and a sprightly young man takes his place. He bursts through the door with a mess of blonde hair sweeping across his freckled face. You realize that after all the talking Sam does about this guy, this is actually the first time you’re meeting him.

“Ignis,” he says seriously. “I tried calling you.”

Ignis raises from his chair. “You sound troubled.”

“I’m troubled, alright, buddy. Can uh - can we talk here? You think?”

Blood rushes to your face as Prompto looks briefly in your direction.

“This is (y/n) Vernum, Prompto. The new Royal Secretary. I believe she can be trusted. Miss Vernum,” he aims his voice to you. “This is Prompto. I apologize that this is the smallest of greetings.”

You lift your hand to Prompto silently and nod. He smiles succinctly in return and continues talking to Ignis.

“I haven’t talked to Noct yet. So, I’m pretty sure he’s clueless. But this morning I was heading out of the city to get the Hammerhead hunter report and ran across some errr ... flyers?”

“Flyers? What of them?

Prompto looks over his shoulder to make sure the office door is properly closed. “it’s those crazies that think Noctis and Luna shouldn’t have been resurrected. They made flyers about it and posted them all over.”

“Ahh ... propaganda. We’ll need to dispose of them...” Ignis’ hand is on his chin as he contemplates.

“Already working on it. I sent Talcott, Eine and Anju.”

“Very good.” He points his head in your direction. “Miss Vernum, please make a written account of this for the files -”

Ignis is speaking AT you, but you’re distracted by a look of wonderment and horror from Prompto. He’s staring PAST you at the picture windows that overlook the main street. His mouth is gaped open.

You spin in the desk chair to see what looks like thousands of fat snowflakes floating slowly down, down; spiraling and swinging steadily back and fourth on their decent.

“Are those ... flyers?” you hear yourself say and look to Prompto. He nods, deadpan.

“What’s that?” Ignis asks. He’s been explaining something all this time. And you’ve missed all of it.

“F-flyers ...” stutters Prompto. “They’re falling from the sky.”

“Like snow ...” you add, hypnotized. You rise from the desk and push open the old window, snatching one of the flyers from its free fall.

You read the flyer out loud;

“THE KING MEANT TO DIE IS NOT MEANT TO RULE THE QUEEN THAT’S BEEN DEAD SHOULD NOT BE ALIVE THE THRONE HAS BEEN TAKEN

THE THRONE MUST BE TAKEN

RESTORE BALANCE TO EOS”

-END

#ffxv #my writing #chocobros #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #ignis scientia x reader #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #lunafreya nox fleuret #Tempus Vernum #Tempus Vernum Ep.4 #final fantasy 15 #ff15

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multipleforks · 6 years ago

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The Daniel. For anyone who has ever dined here, you know, it’s that one name, one word that embodies so many descriptors. Exquisite, lavish, classy, opulent, wealthy, elegant. It’s a place that should be on everyone’s list when it comes to fine dining in America (assuming of course, you have that list!) There’s something about the main dining area that makes you feel like you’re living in the affluent and prosperous Roman Empire days. Perhaps it’s the large, white, coliseum pillars that outline the room or maybe it’s the high vaulted ‘church like’ white ceiling? In any case, it is hands down one of the fanciest and classiest restaurants in New York City and if you ever have the opportunity to eat here, you definitely should!

The restaurant itself has many rooms. There’s the quaint, upscale bar area, which is a bit reminiscent of the 1970s bar in the movie, The Shining, as there are only four bar chairs and there’s a dim yellowish/greenish lighting. Then there’s the luxurious, and extensive main dining room and the private rooms that can be rented out for special occasions, like the Bellecour room, off the restaurant’s lounge, which is named after the historic town square located in the hometown of Daniel Bloulud’s hometown, Lyon to the super exclusive Skybox which offers a bird’s eye view of the Daniel kitchen, and is easily one of the most unique dining experiences in all of New York City.

On the random Monday evening we dined here, our party was lucky enough to have a table front and center in the dining room which allowed a wonderful 360-degree view of everyone around us. On the walls surrounding the dining room area, which is squared off by the Romanesque pillars, are large artwork masterpieces of miscellaneous things, along with lots of beautiful plants and flowers, giving the room a nice, soft touch. Looking up, the ceiling is also reminiscent of the Ancient Roman Empire, but oddly enough the magnificent curricular chandeliers that hang from the ceiling have a playful 1970’s disco ball feel to them, it’s quite the dichotomy.

The restaurant, which is only open for dinner, offers three options for dining, the prelude, before 6pm three-course prix-fix, the four-course tasting, or the seven-course tasting menu prepared by the chef. (There is also the option of pairing wine with your meal). We opted for the four courses which was ever so perfect for us. (For four courses we were there for three hours, I can’t imagine how long seven courses would take, we might need to sleep there!) Luckily the menu is arranged in terms of first course, second course and third course so that you aren’t completely confused where to start. All options sound so uniquely spectacular, it really was hard to choose just three! (Ask your waiter for recommendations, I allowed him to choose my entire menu. The man has been there for most of his life, he definitely knows what’s up!)

Once we ordered our three main courses, they came by with mini mushroom tarts to start accompanied by a poached lobster dish with seasonal green vegetables. After that we were given a taste of their chilled pea soup with smoked cheese. It was beautifully pureed and tasted like the peas had just been picked from the local garden. Delightful, pallet cleansing starter.

For the first course, the very respectful cordial, knowledgeable, and direct waiter suggested the New Orleans Crayfish with Pike Mousseline, Wild Daylilly, Crystalline Tempura, and Fava Beans. The dish was such an incredible burst of flavor. It had a creamy taste up front, mixed with a slight fishy taste from the crawfish, and a crispy flavor from the tempura. The seasonal veggies also added a nice, earthy finish. It was a bit like eating a creamy Mexican dish exploding with cream and tons of spices.

For course two, our lovely waiter recommended the white asparagus, which is in season this spring. Europeans go crazy for white asparagus when the season begins. In fact, it is so revered that full blown festivals mark the season. Chefs go crazy for this mild, colorless, almost sweet tasting vegetable. What is white asparagus you might ask? Its asparagus that never sees the light of day as it’s grown underground. Growers cover the spears in mounded dirt or black plastic tunnels so that they’re not exposed to light and don’t produce chlorophyll (which would turn them green). As delightful as this vegetarian dish sounded, it’s also not everyday you see squab breast on the menu, so I went with that. (For those of you unaware, squab is a young pigeon, it cuts like duck meat, hearty, dark meat poultry). Apparently, it’s a very difficult meat to cook, so you will very rarely see it on the menu. (Interesting how Michelin restaurants serve ‘flying rats’ on their menu, huh? I digress). The broiled squab was served medium rare and had a delicious skin on it, made of a French curry spice blend. The dish also came with a delightful green puree and fresh green asparagus.

Course three offered so many unique and creative dishes. The quail was stuffed with foie gras in a pastry like casing. It was served with cabbage and mushroom on the side with a splash of white wine and sherry sauce both on top and to the side of the meat. It came with a side of ‘crispy rice’ that was almost like eating Rice Krispies with a delicious cheesy finish. Another diner at our table ordered their notable Elysian Fields Farm Roasted Lamb Chop with barley, young radishes, and nettle emulsion, which well a picture does equal a thousand words…

Throughout the course of the evening, the bread server came out numerous times to offer us a variety of bread options, which we gobbled down like there was a bread shortage somewhere in New York City. The brioche was warm, with a delightful crispy, slightly buttery outside with warm, delicious dough on the inside and the Parmesan bread had the most delightful flavor of Parmesan and fluffy ‘cloud like’ dough.

Finally, came the best part of the evening, the wonderful finale, dessert. The dessert menu was unlike anything I had ever seen before (and apparently it changes often!). We decided to order four different desserts and do a ‘musical dessert’ so that we could all try one another’s. The pistache was a definite favorite. It was pistachio ice cream in a hard chocolate casing with salted caramel and praline with a sweet and savory dash of ice cream on the side. Another dessert was a unique taste on lemon meringue. The dish came with two little hardened shells of meringue, with a lovely dash of lemon on the inside. As with most Michelin restaurants, little compliments from the chef were aplenty. We were bestowed with warm madeleines (lightly browned pieces of dough, shaped similarly to muffins, dusted with powered sugar), along with a plate of homemade chocolates and little ‘Daniel’ boxes to take home that were filled with little cakes dusted in brown syrup.

After the meal, Chef Daniel Boulud came out and said hello and offered to briefly show us the kitchen. The kitchen staff were busy at work, winding down for the evening, and thoroughly cleaning and re-cleaning every nook and cranny of the kitchen, but most were happy to say hello. As you would expect, the kitchen was impeccable, with ‘Michelin two stars’ signs hanging front and center. Chef Daniel was more than hospitable and was happy to briefly chat with us and take pictures. He also pointed up to the Skybox and joked that we needed to eat there next time as we could watch the chefs prepare our food for us. (Funny he mentioned that, as there was a table of four eating front and center in the kitchen when we arrived. Best table in the house for sure! Overall, it was a spectacular meal. The service was outstanding, the food was incredible, the ambiance was second to none. Just about everything was as close to perfection as humanely possible. A highly recommended dinner for your next celebration (or a random Monday evening, who’s judging?!)

A Review of the Daniel The Daniel. For anyone who has ever dined here, you know, it’s that one name, one word that embodies so many descriptors.

#bestofnycdining #chefdanielboulud #finediningnyc #michelin rated #michelinratednyc #tastingmenunyc #theDaniel #twomichelin

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