#i just really love violet even though she and her boyfriend fight over ridiculous things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 42 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters here on AQ or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

Thanks so much to our wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane

Chapter Summary: The Scarlet Pimpernel opens...and causes some confusion all around.

Chapter 42: Where’s the Girl?

“Stop! Omigod!” Courtney wiped the tears from her eyes, clutching her stomach, which was aching from laughing so hard. She and Adore were having a sleepover after another long week of rehearsals, and Adore was cracking her up with an impression of Willam’s Very Serious Acting in the prison scene.

“I swear to you!” Adore clutched Courtney by the shoulders, face contorted in agony, imitating Willam’s overly dramatic, stage-whispered, “I. Won’t. Die.”

Courtney burst into fresh giggles, falling over onto the pillows that they’d piled up in front of the TV.

“Stop, Dory!” she gasped, “We open in two weeks and now I’m not gonna be able to get through that scene with a straight face!”

“He’s just so ridiculous.”

“I know, but he’s trying.”

“Too hard! Admit it: I would’ve been a much better Armand.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you’re Chauvelin is like, so incredibly good.”

“You think?”

Courtney grinned, leaning her head against the sofa.

“You’re a total badass. That’s why I always forget my lines when I’m watching you.”

“Huh. I thought you just suck at memorizing lines,” Adore said, and Courtney hit her with a throw pillow.

“Shut up, I’m doing my best!”

“You are. You’re doing great, actually.” Adore offered her some popcorn from the big bowl in her lap.

“Thank you.” Courtney smiled, taking a handful of popcorn.

“I do have one question, though,” Adore said, chewing on her lip.

“Okay…”

“Well...is it weird for you to be playing a character who’s, uh, who had...a girlfriend?”

Courtney raised an eyebrow, a little curious why she seemed to be so uncomfortable with the word “bi” and asked, “Weirder than being married to Bob?”

Adore laughed, shaking her head, and Courtney giggled along with her. The truth was, she was pretty excited for Adore to be playing her ex-girlfriend, but she didn’t want to make her bestie feel weird, so she thought it would be better to downplay it and keep things light.

“I’m serious, though. You remember what happened to me sophomore year. What if people...judge you for it? Are you gonna be okay with that?”

That possibility hadn’t really occurred to Courtney, but after a moment of consideration, she shook her head.

“I don’t think they will, honestly. But if they do…” Courtney took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Then...whatever. I don’t care.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Adore told her. “When you’re standing on stage, and people are glaring at you like you’re the fucking devil…”

Seeing the look on Adore’s face suddenly brought back all of the confusing feelings that had swirled around during that dreadful Grease performance. When all she’d wanted was to stand by her friend, comfort her, tell her that she had her back, but instead she ended up feeling like the enemy. Courtney swallowed down the lump in her throat, reaching out a hand to touch Adore on the arm.

“I don’t know if I ever got to tell you...how fucking brave I thought you were that night.”

“Yeah?” A small smile tugged on Adore’s lips as her hazel eyes met Courtney’s green ones. “Thanks.”

There was a long pause, Courtney’s fingers gripping the sleeve of Adore’s pajama top.

Finally, Adore cleared her throat and added, “I guess there’s a pretty big difference anyway. I mean, for you, it’ll just be acting. Not like, who you really are.”

Courtney’s stomach flipped as she wondered if that was actually true. Wasn’t it who she really was? But Adore knew her better than anyone, and if she insisted that it wasn’t...

“Right. Acting...” Courtney said softly, as her fingers let go of Adore’s sleeve, cheeks growing hot.

“Pleeease, Dory, I have a headache!” Courtney begged, her head in Adore’s lap, as Adore giggled self-consciously and pushed her off.

They were all sitting at lunch, and Courtney was being even more inappropriately handsy than usual, snuggling up to her and trying to get her to give her a scalp massage--something she was normally happy to do, but not in broad daylight, in front of all of their friends.

Their giggly little struggle clearly didn’t escape Violet and her eagle eyes; even Courtney heard her scoff and mutter something under her breath.

“What?” Courtney asked, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “Do you have something to say, Vi?”

“Yeah, I said you’re a fucking closet case,” Violet announced, and Adore felt her whole body tense up.

Fame reached forward and put a hand on Violet’s shoulder, but Violet shrugged her off, sitting up straighter. Everyone in the group bristled a bit, waiting to see how Courtney would react, if Violet’s snide remarks would finally lead to a fight.

“So you wanna talk about my sexuality, huh?” Coutney said, edging closer to Violet, and Adore gulped. This was not going to end well. “Okay, fine, let’s talk about it.”

“Courtney-” Adore dug her fingers into the grass.

“No, listen, maybe we should. I mean, you’ve been very concerned for years, right? And I know why.” Courtney had now crawled right beside Violet, kneeling in front of her. She leaned over, speaking softly. “I know, okay? I know you’re in love with me.”

Violet narrowed her eyes, spitting out, “Get fucked!” as the rest of the group burst out laughing.

“Come on, Vi, don’t be defensive! It’s okay! You’re only human...” Courtney simpered, wrestling the squirming girl onto her back and straddling her. “I had to say something...the sexual tension was just getting too much.”

“Get off of me!” Violet screeched.

Courtney pressed a finger to Violet’s lips, leaning over her, rolling her hips. “Don’t fight it, baby! Admit it!” She held Violet’s hands over her head. “Admit you love me, and all you can think about is finally making out with me.”

“You are a fucking demon,” Violet said. She arched up, attempting to use her hips to throw Courtney off.

Pearl leaned over to whisper to Adore, “It’s not just me, right? This is like...really hot?”

“Shhhhh!” Adore hissed, mesmerized.

“Ow. Your hips are really bony,” Courtney declared. “You should really eat a sandwich or something.”

“I was trying, when you decided to fucking molest me, you psychotic freak!”

“Listen. You’ve been fixated on my sexuality for years now. I figured you’d jump at the chance to clear things up, once and for all. So just kiss me,” Courtney said, fluttering her lashes.

“Get. Off,” Violet growled, through gritted teeth.

Courtney giggled and rolled off, rubbing her hips. “Damn, those hip bones though. They could cut glass.” She looked over at Adore. “You must have permanent bruises.”

Violet straightened her skirt out. “She’s fine.”

“She got you good, bitch!” Willam was laughing so hard by now that tears were coming out of his eyes, and he gave Courtney a high five as she passed him on the way back to her spot.

“Oh, whatever,” Violet grumbled.

Courtney settled back in, laying her head in Adore’s lap and pouting up at her. Adore grinned, this time not hesitating to scratch her scalp exactly the way she wanted. After that show, she deserved it.

“So Vi, think you’re gonna dream about Courtney tonight?” Pearl teased, and Violet shot her an unamused glare.

“I think we all will,” Tati said, making Trinity snort out some of her Snapple iced tea.

Roy knew that he’d been a bit of an absentee boyfriend this year. But he made absolutely sure that he was there for the opening night of The Scarlet Pimpernel. He’d even convinced Darienne to come along, the two of them making the excruciatingly long drive from her dorm at Pepperdine, fighting hours of traffic and racing to their seats just minutes before the curtain went up.

It was a good show. Roy had to admit that, at least. But something about the plot made him squirm uncomfortably. Courtney and Bob’s estranged, awkward stage marriage was one thing, but when compared to her steamy relationship with Adore as her ex, it was just...too close for comfort.

During one of the scenes when Adore was trying to convince her to leave her husband, go back to France and fight in the revolution, the two of them looked like they were about to kiss, and Roy found himself holding his breath. Would they really kiss? Two girls? In a high school play? Surely Mrs. Maguire didn’t want to attract the hellfire of the Christian parents again, right? But as they drew closer and closer, lips parted, Roy’s nails dug into his palms.

He told himself that he was being crazy. It was only a play. At this point in the show, Courtney and Bob have already kissed three times, and it mostly just made him laugh, with their comical height difference. It certainly didn’t make him feel like this. Like something horrible and irreversible was about to happen, lips now so close that he was sure they could feel each other’s breath. And then, at the very last second, mere millimeters apart, Courtney shoved Adore away, slapping her across the face for good measure.

Beside him, Darienne gasped--she’d clearly been on pins and needles as much as him. As the music began for Adore’s solo, he finally felt his heartbeat returning to normal, making a firm decision to tune out the evocative lyrics and just concentrate on the sound of her voice.

“Hey.”

Courtney whipped around, an apologetic look on her face as she took in Adore’s cheek, where there was still a faint red handprint from her unrehearsed slap.

“Omigod, I’m so sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to slap you, I don’t know why I-”

“No, it’s cool.” Adore grinned. “I think it totally made the scene better. You should keep doing it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. You’re killing it, by the way.” Adore held out her hand for a fist bump, and Courtney happily returned it.

“Thank you Dory!”

Maybe it was due to being away for nearly a year, or maybe it was because of their roles in the show, but Darienne found herself looking and Courtney and Adore in a whole new light tonight. She and Roy had joined their old theatre friends at the diner after the show, and everyone was fooling around, hyped on adrenaline.

Currently, Courtney was trying to steal some of Adore’s fries, and her bestie was having none of it.

“You said you didn't want any,” Adore laughed, pushing her off.

“I want yours,” Courtney replied, snatching another one from the plate.

“Well tough shit!”

“Please?” Courtney wrapped her hands around Adore’s arm and fluttered her lashes.

Their little exchange was interrupted by Roy returning to the booth and announcing, “Two more orders of fries are on the way. Regular and sweet potato.”

He slid onto the bench beside Courtney, who squealed happily and grabbed his face, kissing him deeply.

“Ew,” Adore said, nose wrinkled. “Do we really need tongue at the table? Some of us are eating.”

Courtney broke away from Roy and turned to her with an impish smile before lunging forward to lick her cheek.

“Augh, stop it!” Adore shrieked.

They went right back to play fighting, Darienne doing everything she could to avoid watching them directly. She accidentally made eye contact with Bob, who was shaking his head.

Oof. This was not gonna end well.

It was good--a very important reminder, for Adore to see Courtney with Roy. Because without him around, sometimes Adore would forget. She would be wrapped up in her own little world, just her and Courtney, the way it used to be when they were younger--the only two people that mattered.

The play didn’t help, either. Every night, they had to get so dangerously close to a kiss, so close that Adore could practically taste her, and there was always a moment where she thought that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. Maybe Courtney wouldn’t push her away. But of course she always did--that was the blocking, after all. And even though it was just acting in a silly little school musical, it was still like a punch in the gut every single time.

So having Roy back for the weekend was a good thing, Adore kept telling herself, like a splash of cold water in the face. Forcing her to accept reality, as she scrawled out lyrics in her journal, lyrics far too influenced by the play.

It used to be us Let me be the one Show me who you really are In the bitter cold, I would keep warm in my arms It could have been us

Adore scribbled over every line as soon as she wrote it, hating the cliché words and cliché feelings, when she was surprised by the sound of someone else scrambling up the ladder.

“Ugh,” Courtney heaved herself up into the tree house with a groan. “Whatcha working on?”

“Just some song lyrics. But they’re all shit, so...” Adore closed the journal with a snap. “Where’s your boyfriend? I figured you’d be spending all weekend with him.”

“Nah, he had a school thing.” Courtney yawned, seemingly unconcerned, then nudged Adore with her foot, meeting her eyes with a mischievous grin. “The show’s good, huh?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I started to kind of worry a few days ago. I mean, I’m either onstage or quick-changing for so much of the show that I haven’t really seen it. So...what if it was actually terrible, you know?” Her eyes were wide and earnest, confessing even more, “And then I felt guilty, like why didn’t I have confidence in the cast, or in myself, and why not just have fun and not worry. But I wanted it to be good. Do you know what I mean?”

These were the moments when Adore loved Courtney the most. When the cracks appeared in her picture-perfect girl next door façade, letting her inner thoughts and true vulnerabilities show through.

“I do. But I wouldn’t worry. ‘Cause so much of the show is you. And you’re…” Adore shrugged, finishing, “It’s impossible not to love you.”

A bright, beaming smile spread across Courtney’s face and she crawled forward into the beanbag chair with Adore, wrapping her arms around her for a fierce hug.

“Thanks.”

“No problem…”

Adore shifted, trying not to think about how their bare legs were touching in this position, warm skin pressed together. Courtney finally loosened her grip, settling on her back.

“Can you believe we’re graduating in a month?”

“No. I still feel like I’m twelve.”

Courtney giggled, nodding. “Me too. Do you think we’ll be responsible adults when we live together? Or just like...eat cookies for every meal and stay up all night watching scary movies?”

“I guess...we’ll see, huh?”

It seemed like such a great idea when Courtney first suggested it. They both wanted to be in LA, and who better to share an apartment with than her best friend of ten years? When she initially thought about it, she’d pictured them romping around like children, like they’d moved full time into the tree house, life full of giggles and madcap hilarity.

But now...Adore was less sure. Of course there’d be work and school to contend with...the frustration of what would almost certainly be entirely different schedules. Maybe not the most fun, but something they could deal with. What was really giving Adore pause was the dawning realization that nothing had changed. Courtney was still in love with her high school sweetheart, and he’d be living in the same city. Hell, it was a distinct possibility that Roy would be over all the time.

The thought of hearing them together...Adore shook her head. It was too heartbreaking to even consider, laying in bed while the love of her life got their world rocked by someone else. Someone who, in spite Adore’s best efforts, she could never hate.

“Dory?” Courtney murmured, snuggling against her. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Uh...just...I really wanna smoke.”

Courtney’s laugh was the caught off-guard surprised kind that bubbled up from her chest, Adore’s favorite one.

“Don’t let me stop you,” she said, the trace of a giggle still in her voice.

“I never do.”

“Look. All I’m saying is, they clearly want each other,” Pearl said. The gang--minus Courtney and Adore, who were the subject of conversation--were all lounging around Violet’s basement. They’d seen the play the night before, and Pearl was trying to convince her friends that the palpable tension between them onstage was proof that they were getting closer than ever to hooking up. “I mean, I thought so on the first day I ever saw them together, and I think if anything, it’s ever stronger now.”

“I agree, but Adore’s in so much denial,” said Tati. “She’ll never admit how she feels.”

“Adore’s in denial?” Violet scoffed. “Courtney’s the one in denial. She’s like...so disconnected from reality it’s actually scary.”

“I dunno,” Trinity said thoughtfully. “I think she’d happily go for it if Adore gave her the green light. She’s so like...amenable.”

“Wow, big word, cuz.” Willam laughed, and Trinity hit him with a pillow.

“She would probably want to, but I don’t think she’d cheat on Roy,” said Fame.

“Y’all give her way too much credit. She would definitely cheat on him,” Violet insisted. “Remember the New Year’s party? She was practically cheating on him in front of his fucking face.”

“But you guys. Do you really think that Adore can compete with Roy and his monster cock?” Willam mused, a dreamy smile on his face.

Pearl laughed, shaking her head and placing a hand on Willam’s shoulder.

“Will, your experiences are not universal,” she giggled.

“That’s for damn sure,” Violet echoed.

“Should we say something to them?” Fame asked.

“To who? Roy and his cock?”

“No!”

“I already have,” Tati said, taking the bowl of chips. “Adore seems determined to just be miserable.”

“Maybe we should say something to Courtney. If she knew how Adore felt, like for real-” Trinity began.

“Don’t you dare. Adore would never forgive you,” said Violet.

“I hate to agree with Violet, about anything, but...she’s right,” Pearl said, fighting Violet off with one arm, the brunette having lunged at her on the sofa.

“Hmmm...well...I hope they get it together,” Trinity said.

“Five bucks says they never do,” Willam said.

“I’ll take that bet!” Fame said, reaching out to shake Willam’s hand.

“Might as well just throw your money in the trash, Fame,” Violet laughed, still tousling with Pearl.

“Wow, you’re way too confident,” Trinity proclaimed. “You know what...ten bucks on the power of love.”

“Ha! You’re on.” Violet gave her a fist bump.

“Should there be a time limit on these bets?” Pearl asked.

“Nope. That’s how fucking confident I am,” said Violet. “It’ll never happen.”

“I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

Well of course she didn’t know, Courtney reasoned. Courtney barely understood herself. So she stomped her foot and let out a bratty little huff.

“Seriously Court, I honestly don’t get it. Can you please explain?” Adore looked up from the rack of dresses she was pawing through, brow furrowed.

“I...I’m not mad. I just think it’s a bad idea.”

They were at the mall together, looking for prom dresses. It was coming up upon a very busy time of year: one more week of play performances, then prom, then finals, and then graduation--after which she and Adore were planning a week-long road trip to Mexico before she’d have to start her summer job. And then the best thing of all, when they’d get to move to LA together, and she’d finally be roommates with her best friend.

She should be in a great mood, excited for all the end of senior year fun and proud of graduating with semi-decent grades this year. Instead, she was annoyed for an incredibly stupid reason, which was that Adore had asked Tatianna to be her prom date.

“Why’s it a bad idea? We’re friends.”

“Don’t you remember when she broke your heart last Fall?”

Adore bit her lip, giving a little shake of her head. “That’s not exactly what happened.”

“It absolutely is! You cried in my arms all night!” Courtney insisted.

She wasn’t sure why she was being so adamant. It just seemed like asking for trouble--going to a dance with an ex. And not just any dance, but prom. Maybe part of her irritation was Adore thinking she needed a date at all, since they were going as a group.

“Look, it’s just…” Adore sighed. “I know it seemed bad at the time, but that was like...so long ago. We’ve been friends for much longer than we ever dated. So how’s it different from Pearl being Trinity’s date?”

“It’s different,” Courtney said. She pulled a lavender dress off the rack, holding it up against her body before deciding that it was way too ruffly and girly. She’d done the princess thing before, and even her dress last year at Roy’s prom had been ultra-girly, soft turquoise lace with a sparkly waistband and short, fluffy skirt. This year, she wanted to surprise people by looking sleek and adult and sexy. She turned towards a wine-colored satin dress with a high slit.

“Okay, what about Violet going with Fame?” Adore countered.

Courtney turned back toward her, a hand on her hip, and asked, “You really wanna be like that trainwreck?”

“What do you mean?” Adore asked, hazel eyes widening innocently.

“Adore. Only an idiot would look at them and not see that Violet still likes Fame so much and Fame just doesn’t feel the same way. It’s actually heartbreaking to witness.”

Adore scrunched up her face, looking torn between the desire to deny that Courtney’s assessment was accurate, gossip about it, or change the subject entirely out of sheer discomfort.

“I just don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself. Why not just go with us as a group and have fun?” Courtney continued, knowing that she sounded like a condescending broken record, but unable to stop herself.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Adore pulled another black dress down, adding it to the growing pile of black dresses in her arms. “You have a date.”

“Yeah, but if he couldn’t come...or if he cancels last minute because of school, which could totally still happen by the way--then I’ll be fine. I’ll be with my friends and I’ll still have an awesome night.” As much as Courtney loved Roy, she’d gotten very used to socializing without a boyfriend on her arm, and sometimes even preferred it. After two years of being a couple, all the time, there was a certain freedom that came with having Roy away at school.

“Oh please. You know that if that happened, you’d rope Willam into being your date. You can never resist a pocket square that matches your dress.”

“That’s not true!” Courtney laughed, shaking her head. “And I honestly cannot imagine a worse prom date than Willam Belli. First of all, we look related. And second, you know he’d abandon me to go have sex with a random dude the first chance he got.”

“Well, I want a date. I think it’ll make the night more fun,” Adore said. “So are you gonna keep lecturing me, or can we go play dress-up and twirl around like idiots and stop this dumb conversation?”

Part of Courtney wanted to defend herself, wanted to keep arguing until Adore saw her point, but that part of her was small compared to the part that wanted to play dress-up and twirl like idiots. So, with pursed lips and a dramatic sigh, she finally agreed, “Fine. Conversation about this officially over.” And silently, just to herself, added, ‘but I still think I’m right.’

“Thank god.” Adore draped an arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the dressing rooms.

7 notes · View notes

pinknerdpanda · 4 years

Text

Breakfast, Interrupted

Word Count: 1,789

Characters: Steve, Bucky x reader

Warnings: Floof! Long Suffering!Steve, Language

Requested by: @princessmisery666 - love you boo! Xoxo The prompts she sent me are bolded below.

SSB Square Filled: Play Fighting @star-spangled-bingo

Beta’d by the always wonderful @shy-violet-soul and @hannahindie I love you both so very much.

A/N: This is pure ridiculousness. The song referenced in the fic is here. If you’ve never experienced the gloriousness of this song, you need to. Honestly I can’t think of a better time than now. God bless Brak.

A/N 2: I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, see this post.

Breakfast, Interrupted

A quiet breakfast. That's all Steve really wanted. The dew still clung to the grass as he'd come back from his morning run. He'd showered and changed and made his way to the kitchen. The fridge yielded an array of options before him. He settled on fresh berries and yogurt with a light sprinkling of granola on top and a tall, glorious glass of orange juice.

A quiet breakfast. Steve smiled to himself as he took his seat at the table and spread a napkin across his lap. However, just as he was about to scoop the first delicious bite, a loud, obnoxious voice broke his blissful silence.

"Whoa. Hey. Don't touch me!"

The spoon clattered to the table as a very irritated Bucky stomped into the kitchen. Steve took in his friend's disheveled appearance: rumpled sweats, bleary eyes, sleep-matted hair and a frustrated scowl. Steve groaned, a question poised on his lips, but Bucky raised a hand to cut him off before running it through his hair.

"Apparently we're fighting. Don't ask."

Steve narrowed his gaze as Bucky stomped to the fridge, tugging the jug of orange juice out, filling a glass and downing it in one go. He sighed, pouring himself another glass.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve's brow tilted in question as he picked up his spoon again.

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Something like that."

Steve hummed and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Gathering the perfect ratio of berries, yogurt and granola, Steve's mouth watered in anticipation.

Y/n barreled into the kitchen, marching toward the fridge and pointedly ignoring Bucky.

"Good morning, Cap," she beamed before glaring at Bucky. "Well, I suppose that's relative, considering someone drank the last of the orange juice."

Spoon poised halfway to his lips, Steve looked up to find Bucky guiltily glancing between the half-drunk orange juice in his hand and the empty jug in front of him. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, phone clutched tightly in one hand. Bucky coughed.

"Sweetheart, come on," he pled, reaching out to her.

Y/n took a dramatic step back and tapped her phone a few times. The sound of spitting preceeded the same annoying voice as before.

"Whoa. Hey. Don't touch me!"

More rhythmic spitting and Bucky's head dropped in defeat. Y/n smirked, nodding her head in time with the spitting and shrieking along with the voice's off-tune refrain.

"Don't touch me!"

The spoon in Steve's hand fell to his bowl, the contents of his breakfast muting the soft thud. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What the fuck is going on with you two?"

Y/n tapped her phone again, cutting off the...well, Steve wouldn't exactly classify it as a song, but didn't know what the hell else to call it...mid screech.

Y/n clicked her tongue, tucking the phone into her pocket. "Language, Steven!"

Steve hung his head, mirroring his friend. All he'd wanted was a quiet, peaceful breakfast, but he rarely got exactly what he wanted, so why start now?

"She's mad at me because," Bucky paused and growled in frustration. He turned to y/n. "You know what? I don't even know why you're mad at me! You won't talk to me and let me try and fix it. No, no, no. Instead you just play that damn song at me anytime I get within a foot of you. So please," he sounds a vibranium hand towards Steve, "explain to both of us just what I've done to piss you off."

Steve's eyes flicked between them. Bucky's chest heaved with frustration as he stared at her. Y/n seethed, a quiet, simmering rage that flared her nostrils, narrowed her gaze and tensed her shoulders. Between the two of them - knowing full well what his best friend of 70 years was capable of given a weapon and decades of brainwashing - y/n terrified Steve.

"If you don't know, then that's an even bigger problem." Y/n's tone was deathly calm as she turned on her heels and stalked out of the room.

Bucky turned wide, confused eyes at Steve. Nothing about this morning had been or was ever going to be quiet. Or peaceful. And at this point he was convinced it wasn't even going to involve breakfast. Steve sighed.

"Try to remember, Buck. What happened?"

Bucky threw his arms in the air, his head falling backward as a groan rumbled from deep within him.

"I don't fuckin' know."

Whiny wasn't a word Steve had ever used to describe James Buchanan Barnes. To be honest, it was never something he'd even considered having to use in reference to him. And yet, Bucky was pacing and grumbling; petulant and, well, whiny.

"We went to bed and everything was fine." Bucky stopped pacing and smirked. "Everything was more than fine. The things she can do with her -"

Steve stood, slicing the air between them with a flattened palm. "I'm gonna stop you right there. I don't need the lurid details of your love life." A memory of the calm fury he'd seen in y/n's eyes moments ago flashed through his mind and he shuddered. He did not want to be on her bad side, and knowing intimate details of she and Bucky's relationship would surely land him there.

Bucky groaned again, jamming his palms harshly into his eye sockets. "I don't know Steve! I woke up and she was just staring at me like I'd kicked a puppy."

Steve scoffed. "Again?"

"That was one time and I swear to God it was an accident!" Bucky flinched. "I still see that poor bastard in my nightmares."

His breakfast now too warm to enjoy, Steve collected his bowl and dumped the contents down the garbage disposal. Even all these years later the thought of wasting precious food made his stomach turn. He rinsed the bowl and spoon and faced his friend.

"What happened then?"

"I asked her what was wrong and she growled at me. Growled, Steve. Growled." Bucky blew out a breath and planted his hands on his hips. "I tried to kiss her and she started playing that goddamn song."

"Oh." Steve wrinkled his nose. "What the hell was that anyway?"

Bucky's eyes widened. "Right?! It's some cartoon or something, but it's so annoying!"

"Buck," Steve began, straightening his spine and filling his words with every ounce of his Cap voice he could muster. "I think you just need to go talk to her."

"Seriously? That's it?!" Bucky's jaw fell open, incredulity seeping into his expression.

"Seriously. Now, please - and I say this with all the love in my heart - get out of my face before I punch you."

Without another word or a glance behind him, Steve left his oldest friend to stew in the consequences of whatever mistake he'd made - consciously or otherwise.

---

Y/n sat cross-legged on the still unmade bed she shared with her boyfriend of three years. Things between her and Bucky hadn't always been smooth sailing, but they were happy. They prided themselves on having an open and honest relationship free of games and mistrust. But this? Well, this was stupid.

She was taking this too far. She recognized this. She'd been ready to kiss and make-up the moment she'd tutted Steve in the kitchen for his language. But then Bucky had to go and open his big mouth right there for anyone (Steve) to hear. Not just that, he didn't even know why she was so mad in the first place!

Though to be fair, he really didn't. She reasoned with herself that there was no logical way he could know what had transpired between them in her dreams. But that didn't stop her from being furious about it.

Their door flung open and y/n tensed, her hand poised over her phone, ready to hit play on the song of her discontent. Bucky froze, his fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. He looked so lost with his greasy, mussed hair and the adorable little crease between his eyebrows as he glanced between her and the phone in her hand.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he sighed, closing the door softly and scrubbing a hand down his face. "I know you're upset with me, and I just wish I knew what I did so that I could fix it."

He took a tentative step forward but stopped as her finger hovered over the screen.

"Please, baby." His voice was full of confused anguish.

Y/n took a modicum of pity on him and pushed her phone away. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief but made no effort to come closer.

Pulling her knees up toward her chest, y/n wrapped her arms around them and studied the pattern of the blanket before her.

"I dreamt last night that you cheated on me with that waitress from the other night."

Saying the words out loud made her realize how foolish this whole situation was. But she'd be damned if she would say that out loud now. She looked up to find Bucky squinting at her, the crease between his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. It wasn't often that Bucky Barnes was speechless and even when he was it didn't last long.

"You're mad at me because I slept with some girl in your dream?"

Y/n nodded and Bucky grinned, taking a step forward. Scooping up her phone again, she wielded it like a weapon, silently threatening him not to come any closer lest his ears fall victim yet again to Brak and his toneless reprise. Bucky inched forward, unfazed. Before she could unleash her weapon upon him, Bucky seized the phone and tossed it aside before tackling her to the bed.

"Get off me, you brute!" She pounded her fists uselessly against his chest, trying not to giggle as Bucky rained kisses over her face and neck. "Bucky!"

He stopped, pulling back enough to look into her eyes. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face and he smiled at her. The overwhelming love that shone in the azure depths of his gaze was enough to punch the air from her lungs.

"Y/n, I'm sorry you had such a bad dream. But I promise you, baby, that's all it was." Bucky stroked her cheek with a cool finger and bumped his nose against hers. "Just a dream. You're the only girl for me. I love you."

Y/n threaded her fingers through his chestnut locks and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips were just a breaths width apart as she whispered.

"I love you too, Bucky. How about some breakfast?"

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

FYI: I’ve updated my tag list, so if you don’t see your name below and want to, send me an ask. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.

Weirdos:

@hannahindie @amanda-teaches @ellen-reincarnated1967 @feelmyroarrrr @masksandtruths @princessmisery666 @jamielea81 @foxyjwls007 @becs-bunker @super100012 @shy-violet-soul @emoryhemsworth

Heroes:

@arrowsandmixtapes @bethbabybaby

#bucky barnes x reader #MCU fanfic #bucky x reader #panda writes #panda writes MCU #steve rogers

151 notes · View notes

davidcxrenswet · 3 years

Note

“ i just want to hear your voice until i fall asleep … ”

He wasn’t present for most of the removal, and for good reason. If Mariana so much as shrieked or cried out once, he’d fight tooth and nail to stop the whole thing. Sure they had Bryce, a rugged brute, and Kaz the golden boy jock around, but Harvey was taller and quicker, and none of them would be able to hold him down. He’d stop the whole thing and drag Mariana away from there if she cried out for him to do so. So it was imperative he stayed away. He just didn’t get very far with that plan. Harvey had been pacing outside the house where they conducted the exorcism or whatever it was they were doing. He didn’t really know, and frankly he didn’t really care to know. The more details he had, the harder it would have been for him to be away. At the time he had only really understood a couple scattered facts: there was some shard inside Mariana which changed her genetic make up to the point that she needed to literally eat men in order to survive, the longer it was there the more feral she’d get, and that only the Murder Club could get it out of her. He didn’t like that last bit. No matter what, Harvey just didn’t trust that group of delinquents. And at that time he had to trust them with the most important person in his life.

It had nearly driven him mad, to the point where he just couldn’t stay away and finally gave into the urge to run to her. When he barreled down the stairs into the cellar where things were happening, he could only remember a handful of things. Mariana was chained down in the center of the room, her jaw unhinged in an inhuman way revealing rows of deadly sharp fangs. She didn’t look anything like the girl he cuddled up to almost nightly. It was hard to believe the flesh curling above those teeth were the lips he kissed so often. There was nothing recognizable in her frenzied eyes or shrieking voice. It was an image out of his worst nightmares, created from the girl of his dreams. He remembered the way his stomach flopped uncomfortably, the whirl of nausea that gripped him while his heart shattered at the sight. It was horrid and it was frightening and it gutted him to hear her scream like she did. Surely they were failing, there’s no way they could hold back that demonic thing. That’s what he thought, and it was probably true, but then there was a voice calling over the screaming and shouting — a voice Harvey thought may have been Violet Matthews but it had seemed unlikely. After all, none of them really cared if the former junior deputy didn’t survive this B-movie horror show they’d been dragged into — so whoever called out that staying this way could lead to his untimely demise was likely seeking the only trump card they could have against her in the situation.

The next events blurred together to the point where Harvey wasn’t sure exactly when they happened or how long it all took place, but eventually Mariana stopped fighting, and the whole weird ritual thing went on and a shard of glass was ripped out of her abdomen by some invisible force. It all happened so fast that whenever he tried to imagine it, he no longer felt scared of the memory. He was practically numb to it. What he recalled more clearly was Mariana passing out afterwards and everyone huddling close to her, until he’d shouldered past them, making his presence known, and carried her out of there. If any of them tried to protest, he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving her with them after all that — somehow he knew deep down she didn’t want to wake up surrounded by their concerned expressions and probing questions. So he took her away, back to the loft apartment he’d kept above the old church. She was out cold the entire time, and he’d worried momentarily when he’d deposited her on the bed that maybe he shouldn’t have moved her. It was too late, though.

She was there, tucked gently under the covers of his bed after he’d put her in clean clothes, snoozing silently against the pillow. He hadn't fully registered what was going on until Sassy had placed his head on the edge of the bed and whimpered at the girl. “Ssh, quiet buddy,” he hummed to the dog, scratching behind his ears. “She needs some rest.” And boy did she rest. Harvey thought she’d be asleep for maybe five to eight hours, at least the length of a regular sleep. Surely once the sunlight flooded through the skylight she’d be roused awake. He didn’t feel bothered when Sasquatch jumped onto the empty space beside Mariana and curled up to sleep, occasionally poking his head up to observe her in hopes she’d wake. When Harvey pulled a chair next to the bed, popping in one AirPod and pulling up an audiobook to keep himself occupied while he waited, he’d expected to only be sitting there for a few hours.

So when nearly sixteen hours had passed and Mariana was still asleep and he’d had the worst ache in his joints from leaning forward on his elbows and watching her with deeply worried eyes… Harvey just wasn’t sure what was going on. He was beginning to fear the worst: that somehow the exorcism or ritual those stupid kids did put his girlfriend in a coma. He wondered if he should rush her to the hospital but then what would he tell them? “My girlfriend was a man eating demon because someone literally shoved a piece of glass into her stomach but it’s okay some hooligans from school read some Latin out loud and got it out of her but then she passed out and hasn’t woken up in like more than half a day, so I’m not sure what’s wrong but I think she’s at least human again.” Her mother, the hospital nurse, would surely love to hear that ridiculous story about her daughter from a coworker. Before Mariana even woke up, they’d send Harvey to the loony bin and toss out the key.

He was beginning to fear the worst but then it had finally happened — she woke. He imagined that moment a lot when he’d been sitting there, alternating in between listening to Stephen Fry narrating Harry Potter or Weezer crooning alt rock. He imagined the sharp inhale when she woke, the way her eyes would slowly and hazily open, looking around the room and trying to piece together where she was until her gaze landed on her dutiful boyfriend brooding in the chair next to her bed. And he wouldn’t notice her until she’d speak up, her voice soft and tired. And then he would jolt awake and jump to the bed where he’d shower her in soft kisses and practically weep over how happy he was she was okay… the thought went hazy there but he assumed he’d go make her breakfast and she’d walk around feeling totally normal and okay, like a healthy and happy teenage girl just waking up on a lazy Saturday morning. Maybe they’d go for a drive, or head to Marie’s because certainly she’d be ravenous. Normal. He’d suspected she’d wake up normal. What he got was a little different. She definitely seemed tired, and a little disoriented, and when Sassy leaned his massive head over and gently licked her hand and curled into her side, well he suspected she must have been happy to see her two boys first thing waking up after that horrific night. He hoped she was happy. But there was this edge in the air, something that told him that something was off.

This only became apparent in the way Mariana had acted since waking up. She was fatigued, understandably, but she was also quiet and distant. While she seemed mostly physically okay, there was definitely something going on with her, mentally or emotionally, that didn’t seem okay. Harvey tried to figure out how to change whatever was amiss, but as usual Mariana didn’t open up right away to him. She kept herself a bit closed off, kept her feelings mostly concealed. So he’d focused on taking care of her in other more obvious ways. He cooked nutritious meals for her, foods to help her get her strength back, and monitored her hydration, urging her to drink often. He’d hovered by her whenever she got up to move, making sure she didn’t stumble. He’d made sure she was always comfortable, put on her favorite programs to give her something to occupy herself with. He’d even made sure a whole load of his t-shirts was washed and folded, ready for her to swap out since he knew she liked wearing his clothes while lounging about. He’d offered to take her on drives to get some fresh air, let Sassy occupy Harvey’s usual spot on the bed in case she wanted puppy cuddles — just about anything he could think of that would make her happy. But she barely responded to his actions. The only times he thought she really reached out to him were when she wanted to curl up against him. He’d caught her doing that when they slept side by side, Sasquatch banished to his own doggy bed so Harvey didn’t spend another extended period sleeping upright in a chair. They usually spooned when she’d slept over before but when they’d slept next to each other during her recovery Harvey had made it a point to give her space in case she was in any physical pain. But he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her curled up against his side and he’d shift over to wrap his arm around her. He knew when he was being asked to hold her, and he knew it was best to comply.

After a couple days, Harvey began to feel a little useless. Eventually she was tending to her own needs, taking care of feeding herself etc. He still felt that she was distant, and he’d yet to try and broach the topic of what happened. He wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk, and given that she didn’t bring up what happened herself he figured it was going to be some time before she gave any indication she wanted to speak about it. So he bit back the questions, the lingering concern of the after effects. They weren’t back to a normal routine yet, which made him think she wasn’t exactly back to normal herself. And given she didn’t give him any ideas as far as what she needed from him, he was beginning to worry. He recalled that moment she gave in to the shard removal, the suggestion that had been made by one of the Murder Club kids. You’ll hurt Harvey. If that was the thought that clicked with her, that led her to give up her demonic powers… He was beginning to think that maybe the reason she wasn’t opening up to him about what had happened was because deep down she blamed him for it. What if she didn’t want to give it up? She did give them a fight at the end there… What if she regretted giving it up? And if he was the reason she did do that… Did she resent him for it? He hated admitting he was an insecure man, but late at night when he was alone to his thoughts and she felt like she was pulling even further away from him… It was all he could think about. What if she hates me now? Deep down he knew it was a stupid thought, but she wasn’t giving him a reason to think otherwise.

When they laid down the next evening, Harvey carefully moving in closer to her while still maintaining space between them, he’d found he had enough tip toeing around her and to point blank ask her what she wanted from him. So as Mariana settled into her pillow, he turned to look straight at her and abruptly asked, “Do you want me to spoon you?” He watched her brows knit in response to his random outburst and so he continued speaking. “I mean… Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re sleeping against me and I realize when we go to bed I don’t, like, try to hold you or anything. I guess I’m asking if you want me to cuddle with you when we go to bed?” It felt so weird asking for clarification on something that was typically second nature for them. Dragging a hand through his curls, he slid his palm over his face and sighed deeply.

“I just… I don’t know what you need from me right now. Things have been kinda weird and I feel pretty nervous around you and I just… I’m worried I’m not giving you what you need right now. So I need you to tell me what it is that you need me to do, or want me to do to help you through whatever is going on in your head lately. I won’t push or ask you to open up to me if you’re not ready to do so. Even if you’re never ready… it’s fine, I’ll understand but I need you to tell me what I can do for you now to help make things okay again. I feel kinda useless which is fine most of the time but in the case of the girl I love, I - I just want to be able to do something for her. So please just… help me out a little. Give me something.” When she finally said something, Harvey was a bit surprised at what she said. He blinked a couple times before his gaze softened. He’d been an idiot. All this time he’d been working himself up feeling useless and he forgot one very simple fact about their relationship. Companionship. In its simplest form Mariana really just enjoyed his companionship. It took him a bit of time to realize that, pushing himself to the brink of insanity creating overly romantic moments filled with grand gestures when really all he needed to do was just be there and she seemed content.

Cheeks a bit pink with a slight blush, Harvey moved closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his chest, tangling his legs with hers under the covers as he weaved his fingers through her blonde hair. “You want to listen to me?” He asked quietly, awaiting her confirmation. “What should I do? Just say whatever? Tell a story or…?” His nerves were getting the better of him but he swallowed them back and cuddled her closer. She wasn’t asking for much, there was no sense complicating things. She probably just wanted to be held by her boyfriend and listen to his soft voice while she dozed off. How hard could that be? He pressed his lips to her forehead, and smiled when he swore she moved in closer. He could do this for her. He was pretty sure he’d do just about anything for her.

“Okay, I can talk. If that’s what you want, then I’ll just keep talking until you’re fast asleep. I, uh… I was looking at the calendar while cleaning the dishes earlier and I realized something. Prom is coming up. Yeah I started thinking about it, trying to remember where I packed my tux. You know, from things like debut. ‘A gentleman should always have a tuxedo in case the situation calls for it.’ That’s what Margaret used to say. Anyway, I started mentally tallying up the cost of everything. Limo, corsage… Thought that instead of taking you to the motel afterwards like a total cheapskate that we could ditch town and drive to the city and stay at a fancier place for a long weekend. Make a whole trip out of it. Didn’t you tell me that after prom it wasn’t a requirement to go to classes? I think you said that once. Like a year ago… Whoa, we’ve been dating for almost a year now. That’s pretty wild. I think after everything we’ve been through this year, we deserve to run off and ignore everyone for a few days.” He chuckled, “Not that I’m suggesting I should be your date to your Senior Prom. I mean I figured some of the football players and other guys in town will attempt to ask you, and I should at least give them the chance to try. We both know I can do a kickass promposal, but I’m kinda curious what the other kids in town may come up with. Who knows — Maybe one of them will woo you better than me. Then I can spend another prom night in my boxers watching Lord of the Rings. Just know it’d be your loss because I’m a great awkward slow dance partner. And I look good in a tux.”

Smiling, he pulled Mariana practically on top of him, curling both his arms around her and pressing kisses into her hair and onto her face. He wanted to give her some sense of normalcy, something that was a bit more like their usual routine. And cuddles and chaste kisses while he joked about prom and her many suitors seemed like a good start. A reminder that there was still so much to look forward to and that, shard or no shard, she was a gorgeous girl that boys tripped themselves over. She was still that girl that took his, and likely everyone’s, breath away.

“Whatever happens, just promise me this — no truth or dare with random kids you don’t recognize, okay?”

@karolinadeanwrites

#ship: harviana #answered #karolinadeanwrites #I’m sorry this is a mess #some normalverse post shard removal stuff since we talked about it before

4 notes · View notes

mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

#ShipWars by mattzerella-sticks (ao3)

Zatanna Zatara expected date night with Kara would be uneventful. Chat about their days, enjoy some delicious treats at Sweet Justice, and soak up as much love as she could from her girlfriend like Kara does with the sun. However all these expectations explode into glitter when they run into Oliver Queen and his boyfriend, Carter. The boys chose Sweet Justice as their destination for date night, too.

Can Zatanna and Oliver work through a simple ceasefire, or will their competitive natures overtake their dates?

Zatanna hooked her arm comfortably in the crook of Kara’s elbow, leaning into her as the chill winds of early winter breezed past. She felt a shiver roll through her all while her girlfriend chuckled.

“Y’know,” Kara said, “you’d be less cold if you wore an actual jacket.”

Scoffing, Zatanna cuddled further into Kara’s warmth. “Please,” she said, “it might not be functional but it’s the height of fashion! I should know, I’m great friends with the designer.” Zatanna ran a hand down her jacket, the purple fabric shimmering under the street lamps. “Besides,” she continued, “you love it when I use you as my personal heater.”

“I like it when you’re close to me,” Kara rolled her eyes, “don’t confuse the two.”

“You’re the one who absorbs sunlight like a solar panel, not me.”

Zatanna carried on, then, filling Kara in on her day. They’ve been too busy to meet up until now for their date. Schedules packed despite the tempting laziness a Saturday offered. Kara stuck helping her cousin as his bodyguard. Not to aid him in crises, instead relegated to distracting Hal Jordan long enough for Clark to make his escape.

“Why doesn’t he just tell Hal he’s not interested?” Zatanna asked when Kara finished explaining how Hal tried convincing Kara to put in a good word for him with tickets to Homecoming.

Kara smirked. “Because he loves the attention, even though he won’t admit it. If Hal cooled it a bit with the hero worship I think Clark would take him seriously… if he can survive Star Sapphire, that is.” They laughed, imagining Carol and her violet ring chasing Clark around the city.

Zatanna’s day wasn’t as irritating as Kara’s, thankfully. Except with her dad not trapped in meetings or rehearsal meant double the stress. John Zatara used his free day to push Zatanna past her magical limits that nearly broke her wand in the process. “If I didn’t notice the clock I wouldn’t have had time to get ready for tonight,” she sighed, “I’d be with him practicing palindromes until morning!”

“Palindromes?”

“Sentences that mean the same thing forwards and backwards,” Zatanna said, “he thinks that the better I am with them the quicker I can think on my feet in case something unexpected happens in an act. Or… in our case, fighting evil. Thankfully he understands how important my social life is…” She grinned, pecking Kara’s cheek. “He says hi, by the way, and expects me home by ten.”

Kara pulled Zatanna closer. “Well, there goes my plans to take you to the Lazarus Pit for a special midnight concert.”

“I know for a fact they’re closed tonight for renovations after someone moshed too hard in their pits.” Sheepishly rubbing her neck, Kara fought against the blush climbing across her face. Zatanna pressed another kiss to Kara’s cheek, smiling against the skin there.

“Not my fault the Black Canaries are awesome ,” she said, glancing down at Zatanna with an arched brow, “Why were you even checking in the first place?”

“Because I’m not taking any chances like last time.”

It was one of their first dates. They were fighting against robots from a recently ungrounded Lena Luthor, and Kara bet she could beat more of them. Winner chose where they went out on Friday. Zatanna wanted to win and finally show Kara how fantastic a spa could be. Except Kara won by snatching the controller from Lena’s hands and pressing the self-destruct button. She was played , and forced to attend a deafening performance from a Scottish screamer. While watching Kara in her element was delightful, Zatanna’s hearing suffered and she missed a handful of cues for her and her father’s act the following day. Now she checked the club’s social pages on date nights to ensure Kara wouldn’t try dragging her to another show.

“Fine,” Kara sighed, “I guess we’ll have to stick with Sweet Justice, then. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds perfect .” The pink and yellow neon beckoned them closer, Zatanna vibrating with excitement. “Hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies is exactly what I was craving.” She reached out for the handle and wrapped her hand around the cold brass. Before she can pull, however, another hand covered hers.

“Why, Zatanna Zatara ... fancy running into you here, isn’t it?”

Another tremor wracked her body, the cause this time being the boy across from her in the brown leather jacket and ridiculous green ascot. A burning anger erupted in her stomach that spread to her head, flames caught on the grey matter when their eyes met.

She glared, “ Oliver . What are you doing here?”

“For the same reason as everyone else, I suppose,” he said, an imitation of a smile plastered on his face, “to enjoy some delightful treats safe from the frigid weather with my gorgeous boyfriend.” Oliver gestured to the other boy with him, Carter standing behind with a friendly gleam in his hard gaze. His hands were tucked deep in the pockets of his golden jacket and dark hair hidden under a similarly colored hat.

“What a coincidence,” Zatanna mirrored Oliver’s expression, “I had the same idea. Me and my stupendously beautiful girlfriend, Kara , thought that Sweet Justice would be a great place to be alone together .”

“I think the cold might be getting to you, dear,” Oliver huffed, “there were a lot of contradictions in that statement...”

Her smile fell in the same instant his did. They stood with their hands on the handle, neither willing to budge an inch in a sign of defeat.

Kara perked up beside Zatanna. “Hey Carter, how’s it hangin’?”

Carter shrugged, smirking. “Doin’ okay. Shoulder hurts though, think I landed on it wrong during flight training.”

“That sucks. Think you’ll be fine in case of an emergency?”

“Probably feel better in the morning, nothing serious-”

“And what’s not helping his shoulder injury,” Oliver cut in, dragging Carter closer to him, “is standing outside in the cold! He needs the warm comforts of baked goods!”

Zatanna grimaced, squinting at him. “Really? I heard of icing an injury but I don’t think they meant with frosting,” she said through clenched teeth, “Better Carter go home and rest, you two can come by any other night.”

“But it’s so perfect tonight,” Oliver insisted, squeezing her hand tighter, “as long as he doesn’t overexert himself he’ll be fine. Which is why I was going to feed him bites of his favorite cake to aid in his recovery!” He stepped closer, voice rising. Zatanna matched his bluff, making sure there was barely an inch of space between them. Then she racked her brain for a quick spell she could fire off to send Oliver crying home to his mansion.

“Woah, there,” Kara squeezed between them, prying them apart, “let’s cool it you two, I’d rather not get into a fight - which, coming from me, is saying a lot.”

Zatanna turned to face her girlfriend’s soft, pleading stare and found the burn churning within her slowly doused. She deflated for a moment only to straighten and addressed Oliver. “It’s a large space,” she said, “we can share.”

Oliver mulled it over. A tug at his wrist and a stern frown from Carter broke his resolve. “Agreed. We’ll sit at opposite ends if we have to.”

“Good.” She opened the door finally, gesturing to them. “Please, I insist you enter first. Age before beauty, as they say.”

“You’re lucky I’m going to let that slide,” he hissed, following Carter into Sweet Justice. Zatanna attempted to gloat, only for the smug expression to fall when Kara ushered her inside. They didn’t get far, though, Zatanna slamming into Oliver’s back.

“Hey,” she said, “why’d you stop?”

“There seems to be a… problem,” Oliver said, jerking a thumb behind him. Zatanna peeked behind him and understood what he meant.

Sweet Justice overflowed with customers, teens like them hanging out and enjoying the treats the store offered. She jumped from table to table, searching for an empty one. Even the bar had a person on every stool. There was a booth near the back, unfortunately Zatanna found it the only unoccupied part of the shop.

“Or actually,” Oliver continued, smirking, “a problem for you . Since Carter and I were here first - really, thank you for letting us in ahead of you - that booth rightfully belongs to… us .”

Zatanna growled, rounding on Oliver. “Oh no! Technically Kara and I were here first! My hand touched the door handle!”

Oliver tutted and crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Zatanna of every tutor she had growing up on tour with her father. It only served to stoke the fires of her anger more, resurging after the initial snuff. “That argument wouldn’t hold up in court much less here.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, “I’m willing to take this to court if you are!”

“I wouldn’t bother - my family’s lawyers could easily settle this with your family’s lawyers without ever needing a judge to get involved. Only to save your legal team the public embarrassment...”

“As if! Our lawyers were able to litigate against the Luthors when they stiffed us after a birthday party. Compared to the team we faced then, your retainer is like your facial hair - small and pathetic.”

Oliver gasped, petting his chin. “How dare you insult my goatee! It’s not pathetic, it’s stylish .”

Zatanna flipped her hair, smirking. “Please… you clearly don’t know anything about style. Otherwise you’d lose the ascot.”

He shrieked again, one hand moving from his goatee to his beloved ascot. “I will not allow you to ruin our date night,” Oliver said, stomping his foot, “Carter and I are going to order our desserts, and then we are going to sit in that booth. You and your girlfriend can do whatever you want as long as it’s not within this establishment.”

“Is that so?” she asked, tapping her foot rhythmically on the linoleum. Zatanna glanced over at the counter, an idea coming to mind. Grinning, she took a step away from Oliver. “Well… not if we get there first!”

She dashed towards the counter while ignoring the undignified huff behind her. Zatanna leapt into an open space and startled an already distracted Barry, cell phone perched between his ear and shoulder. “Two hot cocoas - extra whipped cream, extra cinnamon - and a half-dozen double chocolate chip cookies please!”

Oliver barged in after her, shoulder pressed hard against hers. “Two slices of cake - one red velvet, the other devil’s food - with generous helpings of whipped cream please, and tea with lemon! Please!”

“I ordered first Barry,” Zatanna growled, shoving at Oliver’s face, “serve me!”

“The bond of brotherhood, Barry,” he reminded the other boy, “deliver my order before hers !”

Barry’s eyes spun darting back and forth between them. As their voices grew and their behavior became more raucous, Zatanna felt a sense of shame building in the back of her mind. The whole building seemed to stare at them making fools of each other. She ignored all of this, though, and shoved her boot in Oliver’s stomach. However Zatanna couldn’t do the same for the force tugging her by her jacket cowl.

Kara held her tightly, a bored expression painted across her face. Carter did the same with Oliver, the smaller boy still kicking in his arms.

“Barry!” Oliver carried on, “if you bring us ours first I’ll tip you as handsomely as my boyfriend!”

“No!” Zatanna said, “I’m a better tipper!”

Barry’s face fell, darkening. He slammed his hands on the counter, “ Enough !” She and Oliver lost their voices - too stunned by the irritation laced within their normally cheerful friend. In the silence a tinny voice warbled. Sighing, Barry directed his attention to his phone. “No, Hal, not you. I’m a little busy can we - can we just pause for a sec? ...Okay.” Glancing between the couples he asked, “Why are you two acting like this… this time ?”

Zatanna answered. “Oliver was trying to steal our booth -”

“Your booth?” he gasped, “That booth rightfully belonged to Carter and I !”

“You’re fighting over a booth ?” Barry scoffed, pouting, “It’s a booth . Booths can fit four people… share .”

“Share?” Both Zatanna and Oliver cried, and then glared for the unexpected echo.

“It’s either that or no one gets the booth,” Barry told them, “I’m already busy enough as it is so answer quickly.” Then, to his phone, “Hal… this is the fourth time you’ve called me about Big Blue. You’re as obsessed with him as much as Carol is with you. ...No, I won’t take that back!”

Kara let go of Zatanna, frowning. “I’m not in the mood to find another spot for our date,” she told her, “so are you and Oliver gonna play nice or what?”

Zatanna huffed, crossing her arms. Unfortunately her girlfriend didn’t let up, and the guilt burned like her heat vision. Sighing, Zatanna faced an equally chewed out Oliver. “I guess we can share for tonight…”

“I agree,” he said, puffing his chest forward “a double date it shall be!”

She groaned, dragging her hand down her face. While spending an evening with an insufferable jerk like Oliver wasn’t exactly how she pictured tonight, it was better than if they were thrown from the establishment and Kara flew home in a bad mood. Zatanna could swallow her pride for an hour or two, no matter how large it may be.

“Barry,” Zatanna said, calmer now, “do you remember our orders?” He nodded, serving ice cream to a small child with their parent. “Good, we’ll be at the booth, then.”

They walked over and each couple slid into one of the vinyl booth cushions. Kara spread her legs comfortably, laying one arm against the back of the booth in invitation. Zatanna curled against her happily.

Oliver yawned, drawing her attention away from Kara. He relaxed into Carter, nuzzling against his chest. Peeking one eye open, Oliver raised a brow at Zatanna as a non-verbal raise. She squinted, tamping down the urge to meet his challenge.

While she wanted to give Kara an enjoyable night the habit of overshadowing Oliver bubbled within like a horribly shaken can of soda.

It was awful when they were competing to prove who was the most talented performer and only became worse when they entered into relationships. Now it wasn’t satisfying in confirming their talent but also showing off their significant others so everyone knew who had snagged the best catch.

Thinking back Zatanna would say this contest began in the library during a free period. She and Kara were studying for an exam they would have later on in the day, Zatanna quizzing her girlfriend on different chemicals and their attributes. After spouting off all she knew about Krypton - along with some extra tidbits - Zatanna threw her notebook in the air and kissed her cheek. “You’re going to do so well on this quiz Kara!” she whispered, “and when you get an A I can parade you around school so everyone knows how much of a genius you are!”

If they were anywhere else Zatanna might not have heard the scoff. But due to the reigning quiet in the library it stood out easily. Her smile fell and she whipped around to see who made the offensive sound.

Oliver tipped his chair as far as it could go, resting his feet on the table next to them. Carter sat to his right focused on his book.

“You have something to say, Oliver?” she asked.

“Why yes I do,” Oliver said, “I find it funny is all... that you would try and celebrate your girlfriend for that when everyone already knows how smart my boyfriend is.” Carter glanced up from his book with a blush. “On the Honor Roll, exemplary tutor, President of the Archaeology club and the Oliver Queen fan club-”

“I’d say that last one would count as a mark against his intelligence,” Zatanna smirked, “and his taste .”

He nearly upended from his seat. Righting himself, Oliver glared at Zatanna and she matched his fury.

“My boyfriend is the best!”

“No,” Zatanna huffed, “my girlfriend is! She’s like the sun, so radiant, brings joy wherever she shines, and hot - she makes everything better!”

“Well Carter’s better than the sun! He is like - like - like the moon ! Mysterious, magnificent, and beautiful !”

“Ha! We all know the moon’s just a sad reflection of the sun! ”

Oliver gasped, slamming his hands on the table. “You take that back! Carter is the best person in the entire world!”

“No!” Zatanna argued, voice rising to Oliver’s level, “Kara’s the best person in this galaxy !”

“Carter’s had past lives better than the one Kara lives now!”

“Sorry to trash his past lives, but she only needs to do well in the one !”

A heavy book slammed, disrupting them. The librarian scowled their way, tapping her sharp nails on the cover of the dropped book. Without speaking she pointed towards the door. All four of them shuffled out of the library, Zatanna and Oliver still simmering and their feud far from over.

They went above and beyond in further installments of their competition. Once when Oliver bought Carter a book, Zatanna gifted Kara a guitar and it ended with both of them getting their credit cards revoked for a month after an incredible shopping spree. And another memorable moment was during lunch one afternoon when Zatanna posted a cute picture of her and Kara that accrued over one hundred likes. Only Oliver posted one of him and Carter that garnered more than theirs. Unacceptable . This led to her and Oliver taking different pictures with their partners in a variety of places and, ultimately, being sent to detention for sneaking into the principal’s office because at one in the afternoon the light from the window was perfect.

Every time they fell into one of their stubborn, competitive streaks both she and Oliver rode a short high and suffered in the long run.

But then Barry dropped off their orders. He placed the plates and mugs on their table all the while chatting with Hal. “If you’re only going to cry if I tell you Superman doesn’t think you’re handsome than how can you trust my answer is really genuine? No, no - don’t!” Barry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Frowning, he looked at the group. “If you need anything else just wave, I’ll spot you.” Walking away they heard him mutter, “I was talking to customers… Because it’s my job and I’m at work , Hal!”

Oliver reached for his fork. Instead of spearing a bite from the devil’s food cake in front of him, he took from the red velvet and guided it towards Carter’s mouth. “You sit tight Carter,” he told him, “I’ll take care of this for you.”

Between bites, while Carter’s eyes were closed, Oliver glanced over at her and winked. Zatanna crushed one of the cookies in her hand. Letting the crumbs fall, she grabbed another and held it out to Kara. “Darling, you have to try these cookies. They are fantastic! ”

Kara, cheeks stuffed already with a cookie of her own, tried pushing Zatanna’s offering away. “It’s okay,” she said, crumbs spraying, “I’ve got my own -”

“There!” Zatanna stuffed it into her mouth, grinning at Oliver, “All the hard work you’ve done today, you deserve as many cookies as you can get!” She used her hand to help her chew, then, relishing the sound of it until Kara swallowed.

Oliver nearly bent the fork with his shaking grip. Setting it down, he used his free hand to wave. Barry sped over.

“I think we’ll be needing more desserts,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Zatanna, “can you prepare a sundae?”

“Kara and I could use a couple of milkshakes as well,” Zatanna added, lips curling maliciously from cheek to cheek.

“Three dozen macarons.”

“Cake with fresh strawberries on it.”

“We’ll take the whole of the red velvet off your hands, Barry.”

“I think I saw some brownies, can we get two trays of them?”

“And some rice pudding!” Oliver slammed his fist on the table, “Because my boyfriend deserves it!”

“Kara deserves chocolate-covered cherries!”

Barry gaped at the order, head bobbing between them. “Uh,” he started, “are you sure -”

“Give it to us!” both Zatanna and Oliver yelled, startling the other boy into action. He zipped over to the counter and into the kitchen, gathering what they asked. In the meantime they helped Carter and Kara finish the treats already given to them.

“Don’t you - gnnk - think that - brrsh,” Kara choked out, “we should slow down and savor - nggh - this ?”

Zatanna paused, staring at Kara with a golden fire burning in her purple eyes. “We can savor the fact that you’re about to be treated to a buffet of delectable delicacies by your loving and appreciative girlfriend!”

Kara groaned, “But all I wanted was - gah!” She shoved another cookie in Kara’s mouth and poured the hot chocolate down there to melt it.

Barry dropped more plates off, clearing the table when Zatanna and Oliver finished stuffing the contents into their partners’ mouths. They didn’t wait for Barry’s grip to loosen on the dessert before taking it and force-feeding their respective dates. Oliver dumped a tray of macarons down Carter’s mouth and Zatanna held Kara’s face to the straw of her milkshake and wouldn’t let up until it was gone.

When Barry dropped a single donut on the table, Zatanna and Oliver went for it at the same time. Their hands brushed and instantly recoiled.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zatanna asked, “That’s Kara’s donut!”

“I think you mean Carter’s ,” he growled, “and if you know what’s good for you you’ll let us have it.”

“Know what’s good?” she scoffed, smirking, “Talking big for a man without his bow . And his weapon .”

Oliver squinted, his teeth bared. “You’d be surprised how resourceful I can be when something as important as my boyfriend’s happiness is on the line.”

“I would say the entire dictionary backwards if it meant Kara would never have to frown again!”

“Uh… guys?”

“ What ?” They turned manically towards their intruder, Barry yelping and hiding behind a chocolate-smeared plate. Shaking, he holds out a small, black leather booklet.

Zatanna arched a brow at him, “What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your-your check …”

“Check?” Oliver asked, “But we haven’t finished ordering!”

“Finished?” Barry gasped, emerging from his ineffective shield. He shifted from fear to irritation with lightning speed, gesturing towards his barren workstation. “You two ordered everything we had left ! There’s no more food to order!”

“There… isn’t?”

Zatanna’s vision zoomed out from the tunnel it was trapped and finally noticed her girlfriend. Kara collapsed against the window, raspberry filling at the corner of her lips. One hand was curled protectively around her protruding stomach while the other hovered by her mouth in case she needed to vomit. Carter didn’t fare any better. He laid face down on the table and moaned every few seconds.

She looked to Oliver, heat steadily creeping up her neck. His face burned with shared embarrassment as they realized the consequences of their actions.

Barry’s cell phone rang, interrupting the awkward tension. He checked it and rolled his eyes. “Come find me when you decide who’s paying,” he said, hitting the answer button, “Hal… if this is about Superman again I swear on every science textbook I own…” Barry dropped the check on the table and walked away.

Neither Zatanna nor Oliver wanted to speak first. However, knowing how bad it would look if their silence stretched any farther, Zatanna decided to go first. “This might have gotten… a little out of hand.”

“For once,” Oliver said, “I agree. Maybe we don’t have to compete over who has the better relationship.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Because, if we think about it, I have the best girlfriend -”

“And I have the best boyfriend,” he finished for her, smiling naturally for the first time tonight. Her cheeks ached with the natural stretch of her own grin. “Excellent thinking Zatanna! And to celebrate and cement this declaration, allow me to foot the bill.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Zatanna said, laying her hand over Oliver’s, “ I’ll cover this one.”

Oliver’s expression shrunk and became something more familiar to Zatanna. “But I was the one who started this whole feeding frenzy to begin with.”

Zatanna didn’t budge. “I think this began when I dashed to the counter, if memory serves me right.”

A beat of silence drifted between them like a dusty tumbleweed. “I’m paying for this Zatanna, it’d be barely a blip on my parent’s bills.”

“My father’s bought artwork that cost ten times what this check says.”

Peace shattered as quickly as they forged it, Oliver and Zatanna played tug-o-war with the check. They argued well into the night while their dates groaned from the sidelines, too worn from eating to intervene. Zatanna would apologize to Kara later, learn her lesson tomorrow - tonight she fought Oliver with all her might to slip her credit card into the booklet.

#DC Super Hero Girls #DCSHG #DCSHG19 #DC Superhero Girls #Zatanna Zatara #Supergirl #Kara Zor-El #Supertanna #Oliver Queen #Green Arrow #Carter Hall #Hawkman #Hawk Arrow #DC Comics #DCU #DCTV

47 notes · View notes

darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 5 years

Text

The Set-Up

@yunohawkeye

Mitsunari/historical/17/fluff

#17: Moves like Jagger – Maroon 5

Warning: slightly fluffy, slightly “spicy” Cream puff warlord

---

The Set-Up

---

It was nearly a full year after they had decided to stay in the past and almost 6 months into one of the most tooth-achingly sweetest relationships they had ever had. There had only been one slight hiccup in this newfound bliss. Their beautifully oblivious, accidental flirt of a cream puff for a boyfriend could be great in the futon but lately, it was like the thought didn’t enter their mind.

Looking back it had been quite the shocking development to realise that the little book worm could have such talent with their ability to please in a bedroom. It was obvious he was lacking in experience but his desire to learn and perform for their partner's pleasure was mind-numbingly endearing as much as it also caused their heart to race.

Lost in their little daydream the Oda favourite failed to notice the small group of men gathered in the shadows of the castle wall. They all looked fondly at the Princess hanging out the sheets on the bamboo lines.

“Its been nearly a year hasn’t it?” Masa was the first to speak in the group.

“Yes. And our little love birds have been together for some time now as well.” Mitsuhide chuckled wryly. They had all had a slightly bitter moment in their own way seeing the couple come together but none of them wished anything but happiness for them after seeing how the Princess sparkled with the strategist.

“Have there been any other developments on that front?” Masa turned to address the man in the know. Who had been trying to tell them off for spying only to fall into the same lure as the rest and doing the same thing alongside them.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Hideyoshi answered with a soft expression as he watched the Princess feed the bamboo pole through the sleeves of some yukata.

“Mitsunari lives in your manor how can you not know?” Ieyasu fixed a rather unimpressed glare on the resident busy body.

“Some of us keep out of private matters.” Hideyoshi defended his lack of knowledge whilst turning his eyes rather pointedly in the direction of Mitsuhide.

“Since when have you ever kept out of private matters? Just the other day you were lecturing me on the correct use of a sword and telling Ieyasu that he should watch his step when out gathering herbs.” Masa practically barked with laughter.

“Well, it was really muddy. And you shouldn’t use your sword to trim trees in the garden.”

“I wasn’t trimming it I was getting some apples.” Masa huffed indignantly.

“You can do that without being so dangerous.”

“Quite right Hideyoshi. Might I suggest Masa climb the trees balancing a basket on his head?” Mitsuhide gave an impromptu mime of balancing a basket on his own head which made Ieyasu laugh despite himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Still it has been a while huh? Should we have a party?” Masa quickly changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

“I’m sure Lord Nobunaga would approve. A party to commemorate the arrival of MC” Hideyoshi nodded firmly thinking that it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Do you think they look alright though?” Ieyasu’s question was so faint it was like he was talking to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“The little kitten looks a little distracted.” Masa pointed out the strained expression on the Princess.

“Now you mention it. There does seem to be something off about them.” Hideyoshi’s face changed into a concerned frown.

“Tell us Hideyoshi in all the times you are ‘not’ involving yourself in the private life of your retainers did you ever notice when the last visit from the Princess was to Mitsunari?” Mitsuhide enquired. He had noticed the tense movements in the chatelaine long before the others had.

“MC comes by almost every day with deliveries.”

“Oh dear. I fear it is not only the retainer that can be oblivious.” Mitsuhide gave a mocking shake of his head whilst dramatically sighing.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean the last time the Princess spent the night.”

“I…” Hideyoshi lost his words somewhere along the way to give a reply. He was a little embarrassed but more than that he had suddenly realised it had been a good couple of weeks before such an event had happened.

“Well, that won’t do. Where is the lad?”

“Knowing that cabbage for brains he’ll be reading somewhere.”

“Then gentlemen I think a little strategy meeting is in order.” Mitsuhide grinned ferally. A look that was mimicked by Masa and clashed wildly with the grimacing curt expression on Ieyasu’s face.

It had been a while since he had received new books and these recent copies were truly fascinating. The crispness of the paper ran under his fingertips like a flowing stream as he turned page after page losing all concept of time and the world around him. The last page finally finished he ruminated on the words letting them sink in before he closed the book and glanced up.

Kitty was curled up on a stack of papers that had fallen over at some point nearby and the low table near him had new items placed on it that he couldn’t remember from before. Neatly packed rice balls, now cold tea, some missives from the castle and what looked like a bundle of neatly folding clothes. He blinked a few times in surprise before removing his glasses and looking out the window. The sun was setting, had he lost one day or two? Maybe it had been longer.

“Kitty was MC here?”

The small grey feline lazily looked at him before curling up tighter into a ball and going back to sleep. A knock on his door announced a visitor and he rose to his feet to see who it was, hoping just a little that it was his Princess.

“Welcome ba-, Oh! Lord Hideyoshi… and Lord Masamune. Was there something you needed?” Mitsunari looked at the two men with childlike innocence causing whatever frustrations the visiting men had to grow due to Mitsunari’s apparent disregard for all things involving self-care.

“Mitsunari don’t tell me you have spent this entire time reading and not even been out for a bit of fresh air.”

“I’m sorry…” Accepting his fate Mitsunari hung his head at Hideyoshi’s critical words.

“Never mind that right now. Mitsunari we need to talk to you Lad.” Masa sidled up to Mitsunari’s side clamping a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Of course, if there is anything I can help you with…” Mitsunari’s eyes glittered at the prospect of being useful in some way.

“It’s not us that needs the help.”

“Lord Ieyasu, you came here too? How wonderful!” Now beaming a dazzling smile at the arrival of the resident contrarian Mitsunari was completely back to his normal self. No one would believe that moments ago he was practically an automated statue.

“I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because someone is doing a fantastically poor job of keeping a rather annoying woman smiling.” Ieyasu huffed his brow knitting tighter as if fighting off the brightness before him.

“Oh? Well if you need some advice that I –”

“Shut up you dolt and just let us in already and listen to us!”

“Mitsuhide I really don’t see why I had to come here. You said it was an important meeting.” MC had found herself cornered in the kitchen by the Kitsune and whisked away just as quickly. Now dressed in a new kimono and her hair styled by the wily warlord himself she was standing on a gravel pathway looking at a very small residence that looked to be a secluded inn.

“It is precisely because it is a very important meeting that you had to attend my dear. No one but you could do it.” Mitsuhide gave her a small nudge forward causing her feet to shuffle on even if her mind was telling her this whole thing felt like a set up somehow. Was it bad to jump to conclusions where this warlord was concerned? He would probably laugh and tell her she had a keener sense of survival than he thought.

“Fine but I don’t think I’ll be very helpful. I know nothing of negotiations for things.”

“Trust me little mouse. You will be fine.” Something felt off about his voice and when MC turned to look for him she realised Mitsuhide was long gone.

“Mitsu—”

“MC?”

“—Nari.” Catching her off guard before finishing calling the other man’s name felt like something from a manga. MC chuckled after realising this which confused Mitsunari but he let it go because it felt like it had been a very long time since he had seen her laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to see you.”

“But I was told this was a meeting that was very… Mitsuhide you sly old fox!” MC cursed the warlord under her breath. He could have just told her she was coming here to see her boyfriend rather than let her spend the last half hour worrying she was to upset a local daimyo and cause an accidental border dispute.

“Is something the matter?” Mitsunari came closer out of concern and took her hand in his. Rubbing the back of it with his fingers.

“No, I—” Her eyes meet his. The deep violet of them felt bewitching somehow tonight as she lost track of her own speech and fell silent.

“MC…” In a move that felt calculated in its efficiency, Mitsunari stepped smoothly forward blocking her lips with his. It was familiar, loving and after all this time felt strangely nostalgic.

He changed angles and adjusted the time for each kiss. Some were longer than others some were soft and fleeting but each one took her breath away as he returned for more. Frustration from his previous lack of interest had taken its toll and in a simultaneous display of remnants of restraint snapping, they both began to hungrily seek out each other’s tongues.

He was here. His scent of books, ink and parchment. The flavour of him, rice and tea… all of it took over in her mind as his hands roamed over her figure as if she was a favourite story he was enjoying once more. A sudden cry from a bird brought back the knowledge of where they were standing and MC reluctantly pulled away creating distance between them.

“MC?” Mitsunari looked at her with hooded eyes and an expression of a rather upset puppy.

“Nari. I’m sorry but we can’t do this here.”

Realising what she meant he nodded in agreement. He had no desire to upset her now, he only ever wanted her to be happy and if she wanted to draw the line here he would respect that and deal with it. He couldn’t deny that it felt like his heart was flip-flopping around like a fish out of water but he swore to himself he’d behave and respect his lover’s wishes.

“Of course. I apologise. It has been a while and I’m sorry I didn’t think sooner about the fact that you might now not --”

“Ah! No stop. You have the wrong idea completely.” MC grabbed his face in her hands and made him look at her. It was true it was the Sengoku and it wasn’t like things like this didn’t happen but she had never meant for it to be the end of their night. The phrase ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’, sprung to mind as she remembered the Inn and took Mitsunari’s hand dragging him behind her as she walked towards it.

The room was small but none of that mattered. In the same way, the complimentary meal and sake sat on their trays by the door completely ignored by the couple. Almost as soon as the door had closed behind them their movements had become a blur as limps and extremities entangled and then disengaged only to clash once more.

Stars dotted the sky outside the window. MC lay in the warm embrace of her partner as he drew lines and circles over her exposed skin attempting to catch his breath in the same way she was. For all the time apart, the lack of connection they had had followed by this. Had her feeling kind of drunk.

“Why are you so good to me?” Her honest thoughts voiced themselves as she remained lost in that euphoric state.

“I love you. And I know you… I plan to know you a lot more if you would let me.” Mitsunari shifted in the futon his eyes dark and his childlike features were gone, replaced instead by that of a red-blooded man and it made her heart leap. He was different tonight and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how or why. The only thing she knew was she didn’t care.

MC was sound asleep in bed by the time they had stopped. He ran his fingers through her hair committing every detail of tonight to memory so he could remember it later. He also made a note to thank the other warlords for setting up this chance for them to be together like this. He had never thought of taking time off before but he knew that if it would make his Princess smile like this, he would consider doing so in the future more often.

---

16 notes · View notes

loubuggins · 6 years

Note

Teach Me How to Play with BBRae! :))

Teach Me How To Play

It was a rare and wonderful occasion whenever the three young men had a chance to hang out without their female friends. The women of Titans Tower, though always well loved and respected, tended to add a sense of decorum that the trio of males were hoping for a break from. Dick had announced that Kori had fallen asleep early and Garfield followed it up by stating that his own girlfriend was spending the night finishing the book she’s had her nose buried in for the past two days. Given the news, it was their third friend, Victor, who had suggested an activity for the night. One that the boys haven’t had the pleasure in playing for a while.

“Alright gentlemen, ready to get your asses whipped?” The brawny, dark-skinned man jousted as he began to shuffle the playing cards at the kitchen table they had cleared.

“Yeah right, Tin Man! We all know who’s the C.A.H. champion!” The significantly smaller and younger green-skinned man said with a smug smirk as he gestured to himself.

The last man, well muscled like the buff man to his right, but about the same height and build as his friend to his left, snorted in amusement. “Only because your head is stuck in a gutter. Seriously, how does Raven put up with you?”

The elfish man sat back with a cocky smile that showed off his protruding right fang. He folded his arms behind his head and wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Where do you think I learned it from?”

Dick’s face twisted at the changeling’s implication, but Victor gave a loud and repulsed gagging noise.

“Y’all are nasty!” The cyborg cried as he finished his work with the cards and began passing them out.

“Says the guy who suggested we play Cards Against Humanity.” The green one teased as he accepted his cards and instantly began to inspect them. The corner of his lips twitched as his mind kicked into gear, already planning out which combinations of the cards to make.

But before the game could commence, his sensitive ears picked up the familiar sound of the common room doors sliding open and quiet footsteps passing through them. Had it not been for the doors, the newcomer would have definitely surprised them all. He had his back toward the entrance, but he knew the sound of little blue boots on the metal floor could only belong to one resident in their home. He instinctively sat up in his chair and hid the cards under his hands.

She walked right past the group of boys and headed straight to kitchen counter, her navy blue cloak billowing out behind her. Garfield’s emerald eyes glanced up at the clock on the wall. Judging by the time, she must have really been involved in that book of hers to have yet to change out of her uniform for the evening. He and Dick were already changed and in their comfy sleeping attire. Dick in his red button down shirt and matching pants, and he in an old t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Victor was the only one who’s nighttime look was the same as his daytime look, being mostly made of robotic parts.

The woman at the counter paid no mind to them as she filled up a pot with water, then sat it on top of the heated stove. The boys behind her exchanged nervous glances as they attempted to act causal, while keeping the obscure playing cards out of the empath’s view.

“Hey there Mama, you finish with your book?”

Turning herself around to face him, she leaned on the edge of the counter and regarded him with a pointed stare. Out of habit, the shape-shifter threw up his mental barriers, but he could still feel her presence in his mind, pushing on the gate, demanding entrance in. That was the problem of living with an empath. She may not know why he feels the way he does, but she always knows what feelings are there, and right now, he was panicking on the inside. Even with his guard up, she was still powerful enough to know he was hiding something.

He knew the second her amethyst eyes narrowed that the secret was out.

“Yes I did, it was a good ending, despite being terribly clique.” She commented dryly as her suspicious stare flickered from his eyes to his hands. He tightened his grip on the cards instinctually, but silently cursed himself when he did. One would think having all the knowledge of the animal kingdom would have taught him not to react under a predator's gaze, but there’s not an animal alive that could ignore the scrutiny of this demoness.

“Well that’s, uh, nice.” He flashed her a toothy grin, as large and bright as he could muster. She may not have been able to smell the pungent scent of sour milk and vinegar that rolled of him in waves, but the smell of his own fear nauseated him. He knew he should not have tore his eyes off of her, but he had to steal a glance at the men sitting with him, pleading them to offer some assistance. His two so-called friends ducked their heads, avoiding his gaze and effectively leaving him hung out to dry. He of course had the most to lose if she figured out their little secret pass time, but that didn’t mean the two cowering men beside him were completly scott free. The least those two assholes could have done was help him out a little.

Fighting back the urge to growl at his teammates for abandoning him, he carried his gaze back onto the empath and her demeanor had not of changed in the slightest. His heart raced as he watched her lips part, preparing to speak, when the loud whistle that came from the pot behind her interrupted her thoughts. He jumped slightly at the sudden sound, but was relieved when she turned and tended to her brew.

He used the time she spent looking the other way to gather his bearings. He took deep, slow breaths and forced his fear and anxiety back into the recesses of his mind. His body visually relaxed and he felt his confidence build as he stared at the back of her head. He was no empath, but he could tell from her rigid posture and the slight change in her scent that she was thoroughly annoyed at the interruption. This knowledge made him smirk and only served to boost his confidence even more. He allowed his mental walls to lower just a tad, enough for his pride over the small victory to leak into the empath’s radar.

He and his friends continued to keep the cards hidden under their hands as she finished pouring herself a cup of scolding tea. She kept her back towards them as she clutched her forest green mug (a gift from her boyfriend) and held it up close to her face. The steam rolled off the burning liquid and rose to caress her pale cheeks. She slowly inhaled, then exhaled the warm minty scent of her beverage, the aroma calming her emotions and refocusing her mind.

Gar was certain they were in the clear when he watched her turn and begin to walk in the direction of the door, but in a shocking turn of events, the demoness brushed one of her hands across the back of his neck and claimed the vacant seat beside him. Completely caught off guard and still shivering from her touch, he had no time to react when she plucked a card buried under his ungloved hands.

Gar tried to lunge forward and rip the card from her grasp before she had the chance to read it, but she simply turned and held it just out of his reach. Her eyes flickered over the description written on the small black and white card, and her expression went from smug to genuinely curious. With an eyebrow raised, she looked back over to the changeling, who had given up his attempts to rescue the card and was now sitting back in his chair wearing a nervous expression.

“What is this?” She questioned, her voice laced with accusation.

Gar’s green cheeks became dusted in a rusty red blush. “A card?” He offered with a fake, toothy grin and a shrug of his shoulders.

Raven rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke and barked back with a sarcastic quip of her own. “Really? I never would have guessed.” She casually handed the card back to its owner and let her scrutinizing gaze travel to the other two men at the table. They were being far too quiet, so the wicked sorcesses decided she should have some fun with them as well.

“What about you two?” She gestured over to them, but neither male would meet her stare. “Care to explain?”

Dick was the first to respond, though he still looked away as he spoke. “It’s just a stupid game, Raven.”

“Yeah lil’ sis, you wouldn’t like it.” Victor added, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing.

Raven narrowed his eyes at his statement though. “Why would I not like it?” Her voice carried a hint of a challenge.

The half-robotic man finally met her burning gaze, but quickly shriveled under the pressure. He looked over to his so called “fearless leader,” and luckily the young man came to his aid.

“It’s a crude game, Raven. Centered around inappropriate or gross jokes that was all know you dislike.” He explained as he uncovered his deck of cards and laid them up on the table so that she could see them. She took a moment to read what each card said, and the boys watched her anxiously as her face lost all expression.

“See Rae, it's just a bunch of stupid guy jokes.” Gar gave an empty laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not your thing.”

Raven fell back into her chair and snapped her head over to her ridiculous boyfriend, who never did learn when to stop talking. “Not. My. Thing.” She repeated, her voice going low and her face scrunching into a scowl. “Teach me how to play.”

Her demand sent a shockwave through the group as each man looked back at her as if she had grown a second head. “Y-you wanna learn how to play?” Gar squeaked as he tried to recover from his surprise.

“Yes.” Raven nodded her head, her features morphing from annoyance to determination.

“But Raven,” it was Dick who spoke this time, “I thought you didn’t like this kind of humor.”

Her violet eyes shot over to the boy wonder. “I don’t, but I hate being told what I do or don’t like even more.” She let out a low growl at the end and her plum eyes flashed crimson for less than a heartbeat.

Her leader shivered and fidgeted in his seat. “Gar, explain the rules. Vic, deal her in.”

The demoness leaned back in her chair with a hint of smugness glowing from her face.

One hour later

“Sorry man, but I gotta go with Rave’s again.” The largest man of the group laughed so hard that tears were sliding down from his one good eye. He had one arm wrapped around his stomach as he kept himself from falling out of his chair.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Gar threw up his hands in defeat and fell back into his chair with a slump.

“Yeah, I’m with Vic, that was a perfect combination Raven.” Dick agreed as he too was hunched over in a fit of laughter. “I mean come on Gar, ‘My life is ruled by a vicious cycle of demonic possession and daddy issue?’ How could she not win?”

Victor’s laughing died down and he added, “Yeah man, she even get bonus points for irony.”

“But that’s the thing! You only picked it, because of who she is! If I had played that it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny.” Gar waves his hands in the air to enthesis his point.

“Exactly!” The other males shouted back simultaneously.

The befuddled shapeshifter hit the back of his chair once again and crossed his arms over his chest. His pointy ears were laid back and his face held a comical pout. The woman sitting beside him had been looking all to pleased with herself at his expense. She gently rubbed her petite hand against the his rough skin of his arm and slowly dragged it up to his bicep. She leaned closer to him so that her breath warmed his neck and it took all his strength not to drop his sulky expression. Her breath was laced with the smell of mint leaves, but beneath it was her natural alluring scent of lilacs and the smoke of a campfire. Her unique concoction of smells made his legs weak and his stomach burn with need.

“Come now, Garfield, certainly you aren’t upset because you lost to your girlfriend.” She whispered in a sultry voice that ignited his skin in goosebumps. But her voice also held a challenge beneath the lust and when his sensitive ears picked up on the hidden meaning in her words, he took a defensive position.

“I’m not mad that you beat me,” He clarified, but she interrupted before he could continue.

“Well then there’s no other reason for you to mad.” She stated simply as she sat back and wrapped her hands around his arm. She tugged on the appendage while standing up. He fought back for a moment, but it was enough to make her stop and look down at him.

“I thought you said you weren’t mad.” Her voices raised slightly in almost a childish whine.

“I’m not!” He growled, which told her otherwise.

Sighing with impatience for the toddler her boyfriend had become, she stepped forward and leaned down over him, this time with her face hovering above his shoulder and her lips grazing the fold of his ears. “You taught me a new game tonight, now let me teach you one.”

Her whisper was so low, there was no way a human could hear it. Luckily, he was no mere human. His emerald eyes hardened to a darker hue as he pupils narrowed ever so slightly. His chest rombelled with a deep growl and his nails turned thin and sharp. His fangs glistened against the off green of his lips and she saw his tongue glide over them in a quick blur.

“Only if you let me win this time.” The guttural sound that came out of his mouth made something deep inside her stir with an odd mix of delight and anger.

“Do you really want me to just let you win?” She snarled back, but it was more playful than threatening.

The two lovers were too entranced in their own doings, that they had forgotten their audience. Victor leaned over to Dick and asked him in a hushed voice, “What do ya think she said to him?”

“I think it’s better if we don’t know.” The boy wonder whispered back. They were lucky to be ignored or they might have faced the couple’s wrath.

Said couple were now locked in a fierce staring contest, neither willing to submit to the other by braking the eye contact. Within a blink of an eye, the demoness spun around and made a dash for the door. The changeling was right on her heels as the door slide open and slide shut behind them.

@fluffbingo

#bbrae #garrae #beast boy #raven #teen titans #mentions of robstar #fanfics #fluff bingo #ask #request #garfield logan #gar logan #rachel roth #victor stone #dick grayson #richard grayson #cyborg #robin #nightwing

84 notes · View notes

tighnaurri · 6 years

Text

Seasons Change // Jeno

Summary: You grew up with Jeno... You just didn’t realize how much your feelings changed along the way.

Pairing: Jeno x Y/N

Genre & Theme: Fluff, Nostalgia, Childhood, First Kiss.

Word count: 2,995

The first time you met Jeno was when you were nine years old.

It was in a small park in Incheon, one that your parents let you go to with the aid of your older sister, Yerim. She would let you play on the equipment, keeping an eye on you as you scuffed around in the mulch while she, herself, mingled with a pretty girl her age with light violet hair.

It was interesting, to say the least.

He was just the boy from the other side of the neighborhood, at that point. A face you that hadn’t yet sunk into your memory. He liked to swing, he liked to pluck grass, and he enjoyed sitting under the yellow slide in the shade when it got too hot. That was the extent of your young knowledge.

It was just another summer day, and you were walking to the park holding Yerim’s hand. You played on your own, swinging on the swings next to the lanky mixed boy who lived in the house across from you when you heard a cry from under the yellow slide.

You jumped off the swing, little feet disturbing the mulch as you ran over to where the noise came from. It was the boy, the boy who liked to swing and pluck grass.

He had mulch and dirt across his lap, ruining his shorts. You looked around, grabbing onto a red support bar as you tried to find who could’ve upset him. A sniff rose in the air, bringing your attention back to the sitting boy.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, sitting down across from him.

He nodded, frowning as he wiped off his pants, “Yeah… I’m fine,” He glowered in the direction of two taller teenagers.

You followed his line of sight, seeing the two of them pushing each other jokingly as they laughed. The taller one nodded in your direction, pointing and smirking as your frowned at them, “They should apologize.”

“No-! It’s okay, you don’t-!” Jeno mumbled, trying to catch your hand as you pushed yourself off the ground and made you way over to the punks with an angry expression on your small face. The taller, and probably also the older one, raised an eyebrow.

“Apologize to him!”

Yerim looked on with a sigh, muttering, “There she goes again.”

The shorted boy snorted, “If he wanted us to apologize, then wouldn’t he be over here himself?”

“Who cares? Why are you so mean?” You whined, frown deepening. Yerim sighed, debating intervening. You flicked the boy in the chest, “Don’t kick dirt on people.”

The taller one stuck out his tongue, the muscle disappearing back behind his lips when he saw something behind you.

“Look who decided to come out of his hiding place,” he drew, “Coming to get your little girlfriend?”

Your face flushed red and tried to kick him in the shin, only to be pulled backwards by a soft hand. You stumbled, yelling, “I’m not little!”

Jeno held your wrist as he made you retreat, pulling you away from the tall, jeering boys. You still wanted to fight them, hurling out what little insults you knew. Eventually, you found yourself under the yellow slide once again, pouting.

“You didn’t have to do that,” He whispered, still holding your wrist. He let go when he realized you weren’t going to run over there and try to kick one of them in the shin again, “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Sure you can…”

He pursed his lips, “Jeno.”

“Sure, Jeno.” You sighed, “I’m Y/N. Wanna meet my sister?”

“Do I have a choice?” He sighed, tiling his head.

“Yes,” You said, but you already were dragging him over to Yerim, “It’s really warm today.”

Jeno agreed.

That afternoon, your sister took the two of you to a local shop and bought you frozen lemonade, all three of you siting on the street curb eating the cold sweet under the hot sun. Jeno had never tried it before, but quickly found out it was something he loved immensely. He slowly opened up to you, prompted gently by your older sister. You found out he went to a nearby all boys elementary school while you went to a co-ed school in the opposite direction.

You and Yerim brought him home where she and Jeno’s mom exchanged contacts and addresses. Jeno waved to you as you left, making your way down the sidewalk to where you lived, all the way across the neighborhood. You waved back, smiling at your newly found friend.

Fast-forward three years and the two of you still play together in the same park together, eating frozen lemonade when the both of your allowances let you or if one of your parents offered to buy it. He introduced you to his neighbor Jaemin, a taller boy with slightly lighter hair and cute cheeks. Jaemin went to your school, luckily. He wasn’t enrolled in the all-boys academy that Jeno was in.

The three of you became pretty close, a tight knit group that held each other up. Jeno comforted you when your first boyfriend, the mixed boy across the street, moved back to America and you had to break up. Jaemin mediated your occasional fights, preventing the two of you from killing each other when there was a misunderstanding. The three of you always romped in the neighborhood, getting into trouble after you messed up Mrs. Lee’s flower beds.

In another year, you and Jeno counseled Jaemin when he realized he might be bi, telling him that you thought no differently of him. He had a crush on a guy from Jeno’s school, and panicked when his mom said she was transferring him into the same all-boys high school as him the next year. It all turned out okay in the end, after much from support from his closest friends.

Jeno and you stayed together one summer on a trip to a lake, him taking you sister’s place since she was now away in college with her girlfriend, Joy. Your parents let him come along without hesitance; you had treated Jeno as more than a friend since you met him. They had no worries of the two of you sleeping in the same tent, although Jeno seemed nervous.

“It’s okay, Jeno.” You laughed, “The woods are safe. A monster isn’t going to eat you, or something.”

He sighed, “That’s not what I was worried about.”

A scoff puffed from your nose, “Sure.”

Fast-forward two more years and here you were. It was autumn, and the leaves had just begun to turn into warm hues, leaving a musty scent in the air as they fell. It made you sneeze, so needless to say, you didn’t really like autumn. It made you sad, having to see the hot summer replaced with colder, brisker air.

It also meant you saw Jeno less.

“I don’t want school to start,” you said, lying on your back. Jaemin hummed, agreeing.

“Were juniors already… It’s hard to believe. Only two years left and then we’re gone,” thinking about the future was stressing you out.

“It’s not like we’re dying, Y/N.” Jaemin teased, “It’s just nine months, and then we can go back to wasting away in the summer heat like usual. Jeno doesn’t live far. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t see him at least once a day.”

You frowned, “Did I mention Jeno?”

“You thought about him.”

That comment earned Jaemin a fist in the gut.

He ‘oofed’ as your hand made contact with his stomach. He retaliated by grabbing your arm, pulling you over across the bed, and capturing you in a headlock. You squirmed, attempting to wiggle out of his grip when Jeno walked in, eyebrows raised.

“J-Jeno! Help me!” You gasped through laughter as Jaemin began to tickle your sides, “This is a matter of life in death!”

Jeno gave you a small smile, “Sure, Y/N.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, dodging your flying feet as you struggled against Jaemin’s arms.

He has noodles for arms. How is he holding me down?

“You should work on not voicing your thoughts aloud,” Jeno said nonchalantly, picking up a magazine and sitting back. He read article titles, biting back his laughter at the absolute ridiculousness of some of them, “Wow, Y/N. ‘Top ten things a guy looks for in a girl,’ really?”

“My mom gave it to me!”

Jeno laughed, “Yeah, right.” He held it open to a page with a sticky note at the top, “How come it’s bookmarked, then?”

“I-I was just-”

He didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself, instead choosing to swing his legs over and off the bed, walking to the door. He held onto the doorframe as he departed, leaving you with some last words.

“Meet me at the book store later, alright? I have something to show you.” He pushed off the door frame. Heading down the hall, he yelled, “And Jaemin, stop strangling Y/N! I prefer her alive, thank you!”

Jaemin scoffed before releasing you, “You’re lucky, you know that?”

“What do you mean? In what way?”

“Just…” He muttered and shook his head, “Nevermind. It’s not important. You should go to the café, though. I’ll swing by a little later.”

“… Alright,” You sat up and got off the bed, slipping a pair of shoes on. You gave him a cute wave as you passed the doorframe, “See you at the café!”

The café wasn’t far, only just outside of the neighborhood, but it was still too long for you. It was too cold out, you thought - much too cold to be walking around in a thin sweater and light jeans.

Your mind ran through what Jeno could be calling you there for. You usually went there on a Sunday, to get a book for the next week or to just spend some time with the kind vendor who sometimes gave the two of you snacks. Jeno probably just wanted some calm-time, you thought. You kinda did, as well.

You turned the corner, hopping up the stone steps two at a time, opening the door to Moon’s Books with the jingle of a bell. The owner – Moon Taeil – looked up, smiling over a steaming pitcher of tea. He pushed his glasses up, similar to the ones Harry Potter wore, except in a rose gold metal.

“Just in time, Y/N! I just finished brewing tea!” He said, snapping his book shut and setting it to the side. He poured it into a cute tea cup – one with a gold and white rose pattern – and slid it across the counter in your direction. You smiled, picking it up with your pinky out.

You thanked him and took a small sip, “Honey lemon, my favorite!”

He smiled, taking a sip from his own cup, “Thank Jeno. He’s the one who chose the flavor today.”

You smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. Spotting another teacup on the coffee table, you noticed Jeno was nowhere in sight, “Speaking of him, where is he? He said that he would be here…”

“He left to get something really quick,” Taeil muttered through another sip of his tea. He tsked, accidently burning his lip a bit on the scalding liquid, “Find a book and sit down. Your boyfriend should be back soon.”

You choked on your tea, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh. Well, that’s awkward,” Taeil smacked his lips, “Why don’t you ignore me and go read?”

You laughed, “Good idea, Mr.”

“Don’t call me that!” He scolded, leaning over the counter to swat at you as you retreated to the safety of the book shelves, “I’m only twenty two!”

“Sure…” You sighed, clicking your cheek, “Mr.”

“I swear to god-”

The bell to door jingled, announcing the arrival of a patron. Taeil quickly switched moods, cheering up at the arrival of a customer. You peered around the shelfs, hoping for it to be your tall friend. It wasn’t, making your chest deflate in disappointment.

The person, a shorter male with silver-ish hair, approached the counter as you fingered through your choice. You stopped upon a dark novel, gold lettering embellishing the side. It read, “Best Mysteries of the 18th Century”with an anonymous author. Interesting.

You took it, laughing into your cup of tea as Taeil stuttered while talking to the pretty silver-haired boy. Sitting down in a soft chair, you set down your tea and peeled back the front cover of your book. The world blended out into the edges of you mind as you immersed yourself into the book, almost forgetting why you were there.

Of course, a book slamming onto the table in front of you knocked you out of your literary universe. You jumped, nearly throwing the heavy 1,000 page book in your hands at the perpetrator only to see that it was Jeno. You let out a slow breath and set down the book, “You scared me!”

Jeno smiled sheepishly, “Sorry…”

You frowned, “What took you so long?”

“Oh, about that…” Jeno pushed forward the book he had set down on the table. It didn’t have a title; it was just a plain black book. You squinted, “What’s this?”

Jeno shrugged, “Open it?”

You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior, “Alright…” You slid it over to you self, letting it fall into your hands. The binding felt worn, like it had been in use for year upon year. In some places on the sides it was completely worn off, showing the stiff boards underneath. You opened it, looking at the inside cover. There was nothing there besides a few scratches of graphite and smudges of pencil.

You glanced up at Jeno and he nodded for you to continue with a small blush.

What’s going on?

You opened it to the first page, glancing at the date that marked the top. You recognized it as the day you first met him.

“Is this a diary?”

Jeno bit his lip, “Sort of?”

You hummed, flicking through more of the pages. You recognized many dates and descriptions - some of them even having pictures - blushing as you looked over some of the more recent ones.

“I can’t believe we slept in the same tent.”

“She really doesn’t know, does she?”

“I’m going to confess tomorrow, I swear.”

That last one was dated with yesterday’s date.

A massive blush overtook your cheeks, “Jeno, I-”

“Flip to the next page, please,” He whispered, handing you a pen. You did as he said, flipping to the next page where you saw two boxes. One was marked “Yes” and the other was marked “No.”

You were about to bail and run out of the store when Jeno leaned over, gripping your hand softly. He looked into your eyes with a serious look - more serious than you’ve ever seen him - and asked the question, “Y/N, will you go out with me?”

You now understood what the boxes were for, having to bite your lip to keep yourself from tearing up. You turned to the side, trying to hide the shock on your face. Jeno rubbed your hand with his lightly, “… You don’t have to say yes. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you.”

You laughed, squeezing your grip on his hand a bit tighter, “It’s okay, just…. Yes.” You checked off the corresponding box in the journal, “Yes.”

Jeno sat in shock for a moment before exploding into a wide smile, his eyes curling up into two little crescents. He made a strange noise, similar to a whine before it turned into a relived laugh, pitching his face into his free hand, “Oh my god… Come here!”

You yelped as Jeno pulled you into a hug, pressing a haphazard but soft kiss to your closed lips. A hard blush rose to your cheeks, brighter than a sunset. It was sweet, not at all tainted. It was almost like you could taste sugar on his lips, but that was probably just the honey tea.

He pulled away eventually, leaving you to fall back into your seat. The only thing you could’ve thought to say was, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Jeno laughed, rubbing the back of neck coyly, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. I’m ecstatic as fuck.”

“Language!” Taeil scolded from across the room. You laughed, hiding your cooling blush with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Don’t be sorry, but…” You picked up you glass of tea and took a sip, quietly whispering, “That was my first kiss.”

Jeno choked on air, “Excuse me, what?”

You took another sip, holding the black book close to you fondly, “You took my first kiss, Lee Jeno.”

“Oh my god,” he whispered, “I thought that-”

“Nope,” You whispered, “I never kissed any of my past boyfriends. I think that be why one of them even broke up with me…”

Jeno snorted, “Well, he doesn’t know what he lost.”

“Yeah…” You softly caressed the spine of the book, “Taeil?”

“…Yes?”

“You knew about this didn’t you?”

“…Sorry.”

You laughed, sipping the last of the tea in the cup as Jeno looked down at you, expression of adoration on his face. He leaned forward and placed another kiss on lips, then a slower one on the corner of your mouth. Taeil scrunched up his nose, “Hey, guys, this is cute and all, but can you tone down the romance a bit? Other people are here,” He gestured to the customer from earlier, who was now sipping from a cup of tea with an amused smile, “Thanks.”

Jeno and you sighed at the same time, making you burst out into fits of laughter (much to Taeil’s chagrin). The two of you settled into chairs beside the other bumping elbows as you tried – keyword “tried” – to read your books.

Maybe autumn isn’t so bad after all.

Another repost from my old blog! I’m going to stagger these so I don’t piss everyone off lol

Thank you so much for reading!!! And as always, feedback is MUCH appreciated!

Masterlist

#jeno fluff #jeno scenario #nct scenarios #nct request #nct fic #pinning #first kiss #AU #mine #old blog

117 notes · View notes

theartificialdane · 6 years

Text

Paris AU - We’re not bruised

As Melati starts a new school, and life continues at full speed in New York, Violet can’t help but worry about how life is going.

Dedicated to @talkaboutartassholes - Since it’s been too long since anyone has been upset.

“Melati seems upset.” Violet twisted her hair into a bun, her skin still smelling faintly of coconut. It was a little past eleven, Asta and Nora sleeping in their beds in the livingroom, the house quite. The bedside lamp the only source of light in the room.

“Hmm?”

Sutan was sitting in bed, his pyjamas on, the white t-shirt showing how dark he had gotten over the summer in LA, their family for once not going on vacation that year, unless you counted their trip to upstate New York for a long weekend with Fame and everyone. Violet going to Paris for couture week, Melati declining her offer to come along, Melati spending the summer in Mexico with Raja and Raven, as well as two weeks in LA with her dad and a long week with her grandma and her boyfriend Harold on Long Island.

“Sutan? Are you listening to me?”

“Mmh?”

Violet rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed, putting her hand over her husbands phone, disrupting his view of it.

“Hey! I was-”

“Using that, I know.” Violet sighed slightly. “Can it please wait?” Violet knew it wasn’t polite to interrupt, Sutan often reading on his phone, or playing some mindless game to calm down before bed. The two of them doing their best to always go to bed together when they were both home. “We have to-”

“I just need another 10 minutes, social media is blowing up.”

“... Because of your show?”

“Lovely eyes, it’s not just my show.” Sutan tried to move her hand, tried to get his phone back, but Violet held firm. She knew it annoyed Sutan when she didn’t take the show serious enough, the entire thing in its 6th year of running, but she couldn’t help the slight resentment she felt towards it for tearing her husband from her.

“I’m just checking twitter, the challenge this week has really gotten the audience fired up. I need to reply, audience engagement and all that, you know how much Bianca cares about-” Sutan was already blabbering, Top Model somehow going viral, the show one of the most watched reality programs in America, though Bianca would never call it that to anyone's face.

“I don’t care what Bianca cares about, and I don’t care about the people on twitter.” Violet knew she was being slightly unfair, her words harsh, but she couldn’t believe her husband's behavior, the man not even pretending to care about what she had said just moments earlier.

“Just because you don’t use it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value-”

Violet bit her lip, annoyance flaring up in her chest. This was the exact reason they had a no work in bed rule, even though she knew pointing that out to her husband would not do, whatever this was, any good, Sutan getting annoyed too. They didn’t get involved in each others work life, Sutan barely visiting her atelie, even though he was always on the front row anytime she did anything in public, Violet not able to tell anyone what her husband exactly did, except something with TV, the contestants on their show always surprised when Sutan showed up with both wife and daughter in tow to the premiere parties, and she liked it that way, they liked it that way, but right now she wanted to choke him.

“We need to talk about Melati.”

Violet saw Sutan deflate instantly, any fight there was in him gone, the man sitting up straighter.

“What?”

“You didn’t notice at dinner?”

Sutan had touched down in New York the week before, home for the long stretch this time, the both of them grounded for a while, Violet only working a selected amount of collaborations until after the christmas season had passed.

“No? She seemed fine.”

They had eaten at home, chicken and greens, Melati helping with cooking while Violet had been holed up in her home office, speeding through her emails so she could be with her family, her door slightly open. If anyone asked, it was so the pugs had easy access to run in and out, but in reality she just liked the sound of indonesian coming from the kitchen, the house filled with vowels and words she still didn’t understand, but that always brought her comfort. Her daughter and her husband laughing together, but that had all changed when they had sat down to eat.

Violet could feel her lip grow sore as she bit it yet again. Melati had been in her high school for a little over 4 months, both of her parents gone for all of september, Melati coming to Paris with them this time, spending her days with friends and roaming the streets. Violet knew it had most likely been a mistake to take her out of school so early, but she couldn’t deny her daughter a chance to visit her country, not when she knew Melati would only go if her dad was also there, the trip over the Atlantic apparently more than she could handle alone with her mother.

“She isn’t happy at her new school.”

“Baby.” Sutan smiled slightly, putting his phone out, reaching out for Violet. “You worry about nothing.”

“I don’t-”

“You do. Remember when she started preschool, and you took a week off of work?”

Violet remembered it, more than remembered it. She had been terrified about Melati starting preschool, terrified about her daughter not feeling safe, scared out of her mind that the other kids would bully her, that Melati would have to experience what she had gone through when she had left home, her fear only disappearing when their little ray of sunshine had shined so bright it had almost hurt to look directly at her, the girl chatting and telling her parents every single little thing about her day, Violet even knowing where Melati’s favorite rock was on the playground.

Sutan gently stroked Violet’s cheek. “Remember her first parent teacher conference and how you almost threw up before we had to go in?”

Violet nodded, her worry about Melati not making friends instantly taken over by a fear of her failing her classes. In Paris Melati had been in a private school, Sutan and her barely looking at each other before they had both decided that they would send her to the best school money could buy. Violet knew she had been ridiculous, Melati happy and excited about her homework, Sutan easily helping her with whatever she needed, their next door neighbor Mrs Johanson always happy to hear what Melati had learned when she came to visit in her tiny dresses and carrying treats for them to share. Violet had known that her daughter was doing well, but as she was sitting on the tiny chair in front of her classroom, surrounded by other parents, waiting to be called in, to hear how her daughter was doing, her entire body had been itching, her fingers tugging at her dress in a way they hadn’t done in years, not even Sutan’s presence at her side calming her, Violet cursing herself again and again for the fact that she hadn’t taken Frida with her, and then, suddenly, it was all over and Melati was doing fine.

“I’m still not sure we made the right choice.. She seems so, sad, all the time.”

“She is a teenager in high school.” Sutan smiled slightly “Give it time. She just started. No one is happy in high school.”

“I wouldn’t know, I never went.”

“Believe me, you didn’t miss much.” Sutan moved a little, and Violet took the invitation, settling down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, their legs intertwining, her hand over his stomach, his slight belly making her smile, even if it wasn’t the situation, her husband growing softer than he’d like to admit in his late 50’s.

“It’s just.. She doesn’t speak the language Sutan.”

“And she won’t if we keep her in her comfort zone.” Sutan stroked Violet’s arm. “It’s the right choice.”

Violet knew her husband was most likely right, the reason Melati had even gone to a french private school in New York that they weren’t sure they’d stay, the trust between Violet and Sutan still so thin when they had relocated, their love for each other stretched and seconds from snapping apart. Violet couldn’t find it in her heart to take her daughter from her home, take her from her country and her friends, and then also force her to enter an american school, an entirely new curriculum too much on top of everything else.

They had settled down, Violet’s business blooming, her finances so stable she could pick and choose what projects she wanted to do, Sutan flourishing in the world of TV, his easy charms and his quick wit making him the perfect host.

Their lives seemed to be perfect, but Violet couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling, the feeling that Melati was unhappy. Melati had been as cold as ice forwards her since they moved, her daughter still polite and kind. Violet couldn’t remember the last time she had felt anything but quiet resentment towards herself from the girl, but if Melati needed to blame her for their new life, needed someone to be mad at, that would be okay. Violet could handle it.

“If you’re sure..”

“I am.”

Violet nodded, knowing her husband knew their daughter better than she did. She trusted him with her life, and she would also trust him with his, even though her stomach still felt upset.

#paris au #galactica #my fics

16 notes · View notes

agentwallflower · 7 years

Text

Dull One Chapter 20

Happy almost Halloween if you celebrate it! I’ll be here... sewing a wizard’s robe. Waiting for NaNoWriMo.

I’m just the life of the party, aren’t I?

Anyway, thanks for coming back for another round. I don’t have a lot more to say, other than I hope you enjoy the chapter. If you do, let me know.

Next chapter goes up November 12. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend and stay dry! (It’s pouring here. So yeah.)

Mointz had been a lovely morning being talked at by a mage on speed until that door had opened. Now, she was in the process of fighting off a slight tingle that coursed through her entire body. It wasn't painful, but she wouldn't have called it pleasant.

Whoa, are you ok?

Before she could answer, she was grabbed and thrown into one of the tightest hugs anyone living had ever experienced. Her shoulder became wet with tears, and her entire body trembled from the force of the body next to hers shaking from what could have only been sobs.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Corabe, from what Mointz could see, hadn't changed much. Of course, all she could see were ears and clothes, so that wasn't much to go by. Instead, she would have to wait until her best friend got it all out of her system. That could take a while, but at that moment she was in no rush.

Wait, aren't you supposed to be mad at her for leaving?

Oh, right. That.

“I could ask you the same thing!” Mointz had only just recovered the use of her arms and used them to hold the other girl at arm's length. Now she could get a proper look at her after their separation. Plus, it be easier to yell at her.

At the moment, Corabe was wiping away tears with the sleeve of her robe. Her face had thinned somewhat, and she had taken to wearing rather thick eye makeup, but most of her was the same. The only thing that seemed to change about her was her difference in clothes and the fact her long black hair now only reached the bottoms of her ears. Well, that and a few other things Mointz shouldn't have been paying that much attention to but was anyway. In her defense, she had been hugged hard.

“You come back from the dead and ask me what I'm doing here?!” Her voice was pitched up half an octave, making it almost comical if she didn't look so damn sad. “Falon said you died! We had a funeral for you!”

He didn't mention that.

No, he hadn't. If she got out of this alive, Mointz made a promise to herself to ask him about that. Instead, she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck and tried to avoid her best friend's gaze. Maybe she was a bit in the wrong too.

“Yeah, that's... it's a long story.” She paused, looking over at the two other mages in the room. “Probably without those two here. No offense.”

Nuall gave her a little wave. “None taken, this isn't the first reversal of death we've played witness to here. It's even better that you're not actually a reanimated corpse trying to consume her flesh.”

What the hell even goes on in this department?

Honestly, Mointz wasn't even going to ask. Really, her mind was on other things. A thousand thoughts at once were going through her head as she looked over at Corabe, but none of them wanted to work their way into words.

Behind her, Pivose cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get started on the check up? We all have things to do after this.”

“You have no taste for drama, my boy.” Nuall sounded like all they needed were snacks to make the moment complete. “Well, why don't we let our former apprentice take a glance. She seems to know our patient better than anyone.”

The healer backed away from the table in order to give Corabe her space. The mage frowned, but nodded as she approached her best friend. Her hand trembled momentarily as she reached out, barely touching Mointz's left leg.

Her magic was still violet, so that was a comfort as she touched various joints along the leg. “I see a lot of tension here... and poor healing. Whoever did this tried to do a rush job and failed miserably. Honestly, who tries to fix muscle atrophy this way?”

“Someone who needed me on the field and was probably using me for cannon fodder.” Mointz's tone could've matched the desert she had been injured in as she forgot herself for a brief moment. She regretted it the moment it came out, however.

Corabe's eyes widened, and her grip tightened somewhere on her patient's calf. Mointz let out a sudden hiss of pain and jerked it out of her friend's grasp, reflexes working on overtime. The quick retract left the mage off balance, and she stumbled. Her forehead collided straight in with the other girl's knee, causing both of them to see stars.

Ouch... that has GOT to hurt.

Somewhere, she was pretty certain someone – probably Nuall– had said the same thing. However, it didn't matter as she reached down to make sure Corabe wasn't knocked out from the force. She was moving, so there was that.

“You ok?”

“Your knees get harder every year.” Corabe shook her head, frowning as she reached up past her short fringe to massage the tender tissue of her forehead. Already, it was an angry red, and soon it would turn purple. “That's going to bruise.”

Despite herself, Mointz chuckled. “Don't even go there, I know you can heal it yourself.”

Another reflex, this time not painful. Corabe's cheeks puffed out in mild defiance as she glared over at her best friend. For a brief moment, it was like time hadn't passed at all. If not for the walls and heat, they could've been at home and arguing over some silly chore they had been pressed into by an elder. Sitting there, she could almost smell the sea breeze.

However, the ache in her leg reminded her just where she was. Mointz reached down with a sigh to massage her tender knee, glad at least not to feel any broken bones. Though she would deny it, Corabe had always had a hard head.

Pivose's voice drew both back to reality. “Corabe, please don't injure the patient any further than she already is. Phirsa has us on a tight schedule.”

“Phirsa can sit and spin. I don't release her until I feel ready.” Nuall was oddly defiant as they crossed their arms. “But... yes, don't add insult to injury. That just means more work for us.”

Maybe Mointz just imagined it, but she was pretty sure her best friend shot the pair a dirty look out of the corner of her eye for a brief moment. However, it might have just been she still had a few stars in her eyes, because a neutral expression had taken over Corabe's face when she looked again. Instead, the mage seemed focused on fixing up her leg instead.

Good to have her back, huh, kid? Maybe you can make your move.

This time, it was Mointz glaring at the ceiling as she felt a tightness in her leg below. Had she been able to speak, comments about boyfriends and long stories would have been rather pointed. Instead, glaring was all she could really do at the moment.

Hey, it could happen. But, fine, you be grumpy and let a cute girl rub all over your legs.

Heat spread into her face and she looked away as Corabe worked past a particularly tight spot around her knee. Voice must have been bored, because they hadn't picked on her like this in quite some time. If only she could reach up somewhere – anywhere – to slap them, it would've made her feel better. Instead, she was stuck.

“I think that's as far as I want to take it today.” The glow from her leg disappeared as Corabe stepped back, frowning. “Though, your opinion matters most, Master Nuall.”

Nuall had been in the midst of cleaning up a mess they had no doubt made, so their head poked up amid rows of books. “Don't stress the patient, then. You should probably head back to your more important lessons.”

The venom in their voice could've killed even the heartiest warrior, and even Mointz had to wince as she stepped down onto the ground once more. For her part, Corabe didn't even flinch. Instead, she turned to walk towards the door.

Pivose had also been conscripted into cleaning, but he had at least had the sense to comment. “Oh, could you take her with you? We didn't get the chance to explain the first trial because of Master's mess.”

It wasn't as if she was just going to let her best friend go that easily. Besides, with how Cloud was pouting they weren't going to be any fun. Mointz was more than happy to leave the little tower behind, padding up the steps to where the other girl was waiting on a landing.

Corabe's arms were folded across her chest and a light flush of annoyance had crossed her cheeks. She was pouting once more, but attempted to stop when she saw she was no longer alone on the stairs. It failed miserably, but the attempt was admirable.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Master Nuall is still a little upset that I switched departments.”

No, really?

Mointz nodded as she started to follow the mage up the stairs. “I could tell.”

“We only worked together four months, I don't get why they're so clingy.” Corabe shrugged, but then looked back to her friend. “Sorry... I suppose we should really be talking about the ritual instead of tower drama. Could we head back to your room to talk about it? I don't really have a head for attempting magic right now.”

Getting her alone in your room, huh? Go for it, kid!

“Voice, shut up.” Since she was free to speak of them now, it was easier to rebuke the presence as they started back up the stairs. In some ways, it was a relief to mention them and not have someone stare at her as if she had a few screws loose. Surprisingly, she had missed that.

Corabe fell right back into it as if there was no gap between them. “What are they saying now?”

The flush returned to Mointz's face as they found her door and unlocked it. “They're just being ridiculous, nothing important.”

Everything I say is important or I wouldn't be here. Don't forget to leave the door open~!

It shut behind the both of them once they were through. Corabe took the chair by the door, giving her friend the bed. Mointz was glad to sit on it with a sigh as she reached down to massage her legs. Even with the mage's help, it still hurt.

For a few moments, neither said anything. Eyes darted around the room, hands were fiddled with, and lips were bitten in one case. The air hung thick over the pair, like a morning fog that the sun had yet to cut through. It was just as weighty, pressing down until it was almost choking.

“Hey, I-”

“So about-”

Both paused, blinking. Corabe went to open her mouth, but then she shut it and shook her head. Finally, she allowed a brief, awkward smile to cross her features as she fiddled with the sleeve on her robe.

“I guess it's been a while.”

Mointz snorted despite the tension. “Oh, only a year and one case of almost death. I think we can allow some awkwardness between us.”

Much to her relief, the other girl giggled slightly, though it sounded as from nerves than from actual amusement. It was good to hear her laugh again, and it warmed something deep within her that had been sleeping for what felt like ages. In a sense, it was like being home again, only it was much hotter.

“I know I'm supposed to tell you about the ritual, but you can forgive me if we put that off for a few moments.” Corabe moved her chair closer, settling back into it. “I've heard the basics, but it's hard to actually believe most of it. What have you been getting into?”

A lot of weird stuff. And painful stuff. And near death stuff. Basic adventure stuff.

That about summed it up, but for a best friend a bit more articulation was needed. It surprised Mointz, though, that she had such a time trying to put it into words. There was so much to say, but how?

She looked down at her scarred hands, frowning as she rubbed her palm with her thumb along an old cut that had healed badly. “I thought finding these items would be a lot easier than they would be.”

When Corabe spoke again, her voice was softer. “It sounded pretty bad back in the Ring Kingdom.”

The mage reached across, laying her hand on her friend's shoulder. Their eyes met briefly, but Mointz couldn't hold it. There was something in the other girl's eyes that made her insides squirm. Too much had happened for her to know. The truth was far harsher than even the worst rumors could get at.

“Bad... sounds about right.”

Mointz took a deep breath, feeling it push against the scarring under her throat. “I don't really want to get into it. Maybe later.”

In response, Corabe frowned but didn't press the issue. Her hand still rested on her best friend's shoulder, and it squeezed lightly, like she had done so many times before in sunnier days in the past. That felt like another lifetime ago, sitting there in that little room.

Still, at least they were together again.

That gave Mointz a little cheer as she looked back up at her friend. “Question is, how did you wind up here? It's a long way from home, you know.”

That got Corabe chuckling, though her cheeks colored as she reached back to run a hand through her hair. “Well... I guess Falon told you the basics. I couldn't exactly stay there after... well, after what we heard. I left after your funeral.”

That sounds really weird to hear now. Don't have an actual funeral, kid.

Mointz nodded as she waited for her best friend to supply at least some detail that got her the distance from their little village to the capital city of a massive empire. No doubt her magic had something – possibly all – to do with it, but that only answered so much.

The mage offered another awkward smile. “I guess I was just wandering around at first, trying to take my mind off things. Some of it I don't really remember, but one night I found myself on the border of the empire trying to heal some villagers caught in a border raid. Did the best I could, but one still died. It was when we were going to bury them that the corpse jumped up and tried to take a bite out of me.”

… well, good to know you're not the only one dealing with the undead. A fresh one's gotta be pretty bad, though.

“What happened then?”

Corabe was quieter this time. “Well... home taught me what to do with dead things that won't stay dead. I've never been that close before. The smell was awful, and I watched it until it stopped moving. After that, the soldiers found me and got the whole story.”

She was playing with a bracelet on her wrist now, one Mointz hadn't seen before. It was of strange make, a dark metal that refused to reflect the light. From where she was sitting, it was impossible to see how to take it off.

“Apparently, in the empire you don't keep your mages unleashed unless they're running the show. They captured me and brought me here.”

Right then, Mointz's blood boiled. “So you're just as much captive here as I am?”

“Even if the cage has books, it's still a cage.” Corabe stopped rubbing her bracelet. “They said if I helped you with your tasks, they'd let me go. Can't say I'm too sure about that, though. The only people who tend to leave here are in body bags.”

Well, and they seemed like such nice despots.

If she had held doubt in her mind before about taking Phirsa on, that went away at the sight of the shackle on her best friend's wrist. Mointz felt her hand curl into a fist at her side, tight and sharp. A little more pressure, and there'd be blood.

“You're going to hurt yourself.” Corabe took her hand and carefully pried it open. Her touch was colder than before, almost icy. “Come on, we need to focus on preparing you. What we're going to do after can come once they're not watching.”

Focusing was going to be almost impossible at that point, but she let it go. As much as she was loathe to admit it, the mage was right. However, that didn't mean it was out of sight and out of mind; once she got down to planning, it wouldn't be done alone.

If she was getting out of there, Corabe was coming with her. If they didn't like it, well, she'd figure that out later too.

She was getting pretty good at improvising escape plans, after all.

#The Magpie's Stash #Dull One #writing #novel #Voice ships them #(so does the author)

1 note · View note

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Check You Out - Chapter 5 - May

Chapter Five A/N - this is it! This is going to be the final chapter because I feel like the story has run its course and is getting a bit disjointed, I feel like no one cares about it anymore and also I have a heap of other ideas that I want to start. So hopefully in this chapter all the plot lines get a resolution.

Honestly, I never thought this day would come since it’s taken forever for me to write it (lmao sorry about waiting months between chapters). I want to say thank you so much to my amazing beta Scoobert and everyone who’s ever left a comment or asked when it’s going to next be updated or hit that mf like button- you guys are the reason I write, and the way I got through writing when stuff got difficult. I love you all and I hope you love this final chapter. As always, I’d love feedback, either here or over at artificial-may

Trixie knew this was a really awkward move, turning up in the mid afternoon, during the shift she knew Katya had taken, and had anyone done it to her she probably would have asked them to leave instantly. But she was a disgusting hypocrite after all, so it stood to reason that she could rock up and start filling a basket with groceries. She wasn’t entirely sure if Katya had seen her as she’d walked in, but she was doing this here and now. If Katya was going to ignore her in every other way she really left Trixie no choice but to confront her face to face. Trixie was nothing if not stubborn. Basket sufficiently filled, Trixie smoothed down her pale pink jacket and made her way to the lane Katya stood behind, tapping languidly on her phone. She looked up as Trixie approached and ducked below the counter, putting her closed sign up. Trixie rolled her eyes. “Katya, I know you’re there, come out and scan my groceries.” Slowly, Katya’s head emerged from below the conveyer belt, a mess of backcombed braids and tangles haphazardly piled upon each other and held by pins, hairspray and the will of a higher power. She looked Trixie directly in the eyes through deep black rimmed eyes, and reluctantly pulled Trixie’s basket towards her, not breaking the eye contact. It made Trixie a little uncomfortable, but she held her ground. Once the first few items had been scanned and bagged in a stony silence, Trixie went for her attack. “Also can we talk about why you’re ignoring me?” The bag of macaroni Katya had been holding dropped from her hands, landing in the bagging area. “I’m not ignoring you,” she responded, holding her head high, though the macaroni she’d just retrieved shook a little due to her evidently trembling hands. “You are, and then there was the whole thing with the other day,” Trixie responded, the image of Katya’s red lips mixing with the messy haired blonde’s flashing before her eyes. “Alaska? Yeah, that was, um…” Katya trailed off. “You were trying to make me jealous weren’t you,” shot back Trixie, feeling her palms sweating, hoping desperately she was right. Nevertheless, she saw Katya flash an awkward smile at no one, a sure sign she was admitting something bad she’d done, so Trixie soldiered on. Why tiptoe into hell when you can backflip into a cannonball? she thought. “Because you like me and you wanted something to happen.” “Me? Like you? Like that? You’ve gotta be joking,” snorted Katya, slipping into her Maureen voice “that’s called wishful thinking.” “Look, I think we’re both pretty aware it’s not a joke,” responded Trixie “Yeah,” shrugged Katya, the Russian’s resolve crumbling before her to Trixie’s surprise. She had thought Katya would fight her a little more than she had. “Yeah we do. But what’s the point, you’ve got your boyfriend and I’ve got myself?” Trixie cut off Katya with a low voice. “Not anymore.” “I- What?” Katya had started off firey, but seemed to switch into confusion almost instantly, brows furrowing creating a little crease in the middle of her forehead. “My boyfriend and I broke up,” said Trixie tiredly, rubbing a hand down her face. “It’s been a long time coming, but we broke up just the other day. If that was what was holding you back there’s nothing there anymore. But it’s your choice I guess.” She turned away, as her card accepted, picking up her bag and making her way toward the exit, tears threatening to fall. She’d told herself from the start she’d let Katya have the final decision. And she’d stick to her word. “Trixie!” she turned to see Katya hurdle the barrier holding her inside her aisle, and run towards her. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been so dumb and immature about this.” Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie saw the supervisor glance at the two of them and back to Katya’s unattended aisle. She looked back at Katya and pulled the shorter girl into a tight hug, resting her head upon the other’s shoulder. “My break’s in fifteen minutes,” Katya’s soft whisper tickles her ear, and she smiles into Katya’s neck. “Okay, and?” “See you in the storeroom. We can talk, and do other stuff.” “At work? That’s a little kinky Brenda.” “Oh just the way I like it,” responds Katya, letting Trixie go, the two of them smiling like idiots. +++ Violet had done a lot of mulling since talking to Bianca. She had spent a fair number of hours wallowing in the beautiful state of contemplating one’s feelings, and the dangerous land of “what-if”. She usually never let herself contemplate what could happen if she let someone in, if she let them see who she was, if she gave them the opportunity to love her. She usually pulled herself out of that mindset as soon as possible because it made it near impossible to remove someone from her life, even if they hadn’t gotten in. Violet’s hypothetical worlds were extensive and intense. She tried to project the image of an uncaring, cold dominanatrix, but that was to hide the reality that peoples’ feelings didn’t roll off her, rather they affected her in ridiculous ways, she soaked up every shred of attention like a sponge. But then again, what she had felt for Pearl wasn’t unique. Violet would never admit it, because of her bitch façade, but she fell often. Hard. She was in two minds, trying to convince herself that Pearl wasn’t just another pretty face that she’d fuck once or twice then never see again, and another voice that told her predicament was exactly the same as every other one she’d been in. They’d go on a couple of dates, change their Facebook statuses before realising Violet was way in over her head falling hard while the other party simply didn’t care. It was draining keeping up appearances, pretending that she didn’t care when everyone inevitably moved on. And that was why she told herself she wasn’t going to lead Pearl on, she’d avoid the girl, stop the flirty smiles. Stop the warmth that pulled her insides into crazy shapes, stop the urge to keep the conversation going just a few seconds. She decided all this in the morning before her shift as she pulled on the work shirt, and painted her face with meticulous strokes. So why, she asked herself, as she went to close the cash drawer as Pearl left her register, did you just give her your number on her receipt. Because, argued a smaller voice, look at the way she lit up when you did. She prayed a distraction would arise, that could yank her away from the one problem that had consumed her for the past days. And one did, in the form of her slamming her hand in the cash drawer, causing bright red spots to bloom on her fingers, which would surely turn a promising purple in the days to come, and thus elicited a loud barrage of expletives, so loud it caused Bianca to frown at her, and Pearl to turn around, halfway down the walkway. For the rest of the shift, Violet didn’t think of Pearl. But the second she clocked off, nursing swollen fingers, her thoughts flickered back to Pearl, and whether she’d thought of Violet at all. Retrieving her phone from her back pocket alerted her that yes, Pearl had been thinking about her, and it showed in the form of multiple consecutive messages. All that afternoon, and even for the rest of the night, and the morning that followed, Violet battled fatigue and stinging eyes talking to Pearl the whole time. When the clock ticked 4am, Violet decided she’d head to bed, but she went content. She’d earlier thought what she and Pearl shared wasn’t something unique, it was just typical feelings she always suffered from. And through Violet’s sleep riddled brain, one thought stood out clearly. Even if Pearl and I are doomed to fall apart, I’m going to love every single second we’re together. One choice of Pearl’s to choose a certain checkout months ago had turned into something Violet didn’t really know what to call. But she was so grateful that the choice had been made. +++ Courtney couldn’t quite believe where she was. She was a professional, and regarded her job with the utmost importance. Which was why she couldn’t quite get it through her head, that instead of shelving products, or processing produce, she was pinned against a wall in the back storeroom by the other blonde manager of the store. Willam had grabbed her as she’d been about to log off. “What the heck is this,” she whispered to Willam, eyes darting around the empty storeroom. “Why the heck are you whispering?” mocked the other, a smile playing on her lips. Courtney pursed her lips “What are we doing? Someone might come in and then what would happen?” “If you want me to stop,” replied Willam, trailing off and relieving some of the pressure of Courtney as she eased herself off the other. Courtney let out a small noise almost like a whine, and prayed to any entity up there that Willam hadn’t heard. She had, and the smirk pressing against her lips deepened. “So you do want to know why I pulled you into a storeroom?” Rolling her eyes, Courtney responded. “Cut the theatrics Belli, yes I do.” She glared at Willam, but added as an afterthought: “I think I have a fairly good idea why.” Unexpectedly, Willam sat down on a nearby box. Courtney couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed. God, get a grip, Court, she thought, shaking her head at her own thoughts. “I wanted to tell you something,” said Willam looking up at the Australian from the box. “Okay, shoot.” Willam’s words came out too fast, a jumbled mess, as though she had rehearsed what she wanted to say, but was not fully comfortable with what she was saying. “I’m quitting my job here. I’m through university, and I’ve applied for a job I want, and I’ve been accepted. There’s no reason for me to stay here from a career standpoint-” began Willam. “Will that’s great!” Courtney interjected. “I just haven’t handed in my resignation because I was scared if I left here, I’d never see you again,” said Willam, looking down at her feet. Courtney chuckled softly. “Three weeks ago, I would have said ‘why the hell am I here? Why am I in the back room with the meat manager?’ I used to hate you Will-” “Ooh, thanks.” Rolling her eyes, Courtney swatted Willam’s shoulder. “Shut up bitch, let me have my monologue. I used to hate you but now we’re here, and yeah I’m going to miss you like hell, but it’ll be okay because we’ll always be here for each other.” “Aw, you’re cute.” “No, I mean it.” Courtney took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve gotten to the point where I would be upset if I never saw you again, so that’s why I’m going to see you again, because you’re going to take me out to dinner sometime.” Willam’s eyes brightened, and she stood up from her box. “Really?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not paying for anyone bitch.” Courtney began to respond, but was stopped by Willam’s lips on her own. Pulling away a bit, and hitting her head on the smooth concrete of the storeroom she asked, “what are you doing?” “Is it cliché to say something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time before making out with you?” “Ah….yes.” “Damn it.” “Just the making out is fine though,” responded Courtney. There was a moment of silence between them. Willam looked up into Courtney’s eyes. “You do want this right?” Courtney’s answer was just a little too quick. “God, yes, of course.” And they were back where they started out, Courtney’s back pressed to the wall, wedged between Willam, bodies fitting perfectly. Willam’s pink glossy mouth on hers, moving with a gentle intensity. It was exactly how Courtney had imagined kissing Willam would be, but even better. A crash tore them apart, and Courtney sputtered on a whirl of blonde hair suddenly in her face. “Is anyone there?” called Willam, and Courtney noticed the storeroom door was ajar now. Willam turned back to Courtney, panic mirrored across both their faces. “Shoot there is someone else in here,” came the response, a Russian accent enhancing certain words. “Katya?” exclaimed Courtney. The Russian materialised from behind a pile of boxes, hand clamped to a girl Courtney had never seen before. “Courtney? Um, I didn’t realise the storeroom was being, um, used.” Willam snorted, and Courtney prayed a hole in the ground would open up and swallow her. “What are you doing in here?” asked Katya, glancing at the other blonde next to her, who shrugged. “I was just doing…stuff,” said Courtney, wincing at her lame excuse. Willam raised a hand. “That’s me,” she said. “I’m stuff.” Katya and the other girl laughed, and Courtney felt her cheeks fill with colour as they laughed at her expense. “C'mon Trix,” murmured Katya, just loud enough for Courtney to hear, “there’ll be no one in the fridge.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be cold,” she complained. Katya waggled her eyebrows. “That’s what makes it more fun.” The two exited the storeroom, laughing between themselves, and Courtney was alone with Willam again. “What the fuck was that?” asked Willam. “What the fuck is this?” quipped back Courtney. Willam smiled softly, “that is very true,” she whispered, leaning back in. +++ It was late at night, and Phi Phi had her shift tomorrow, and she was seriously debating whether it was worth even going, or if she should just chuck a sickie. She hadn’t been in contact with Sharon, so she didn’t know how the resignation had gone, but she knew she was supposed to be training a new checkout operator so she could only assume Sharon had been replaced. Truth be told, ever since her chat with Sharon she’d been less and less excited about working. The money that trickled into her bank account weekly now no longer made her feel proud, she just felt empty, and she had a feeling that working without Sharon wouldn’t do this emptiness any favours. Sharon had opened her eyes to a lot of stuff, most notably that the life she was living and the path she was taking was not going to get her anywhere where she’d be happy. She snapped herself out of her daze and back to her computer where Netflix had loaded, asking if she was still there. Exiting the site, she realised she had a new email notification, and she pulled it up to read it. It was a design agency, one of the ones Phi Phi had emailed after she’d talked to Sharon about her life’s direction. She’d been asking everywhere she could think of, asking if they’d take work experience, if they’d offer her a job. She’d had nothing but silence from their end, which had not helped her confidence in her abilities at all. Deciding that creating a portfolio and just jumping straight in to applying for work would appease her father a little more than waiting to do a course, she’d worried she’d made the wrong decision. But there was always a little soundbite trapped in her head of Sharon’s voice telling her that this was her life, not her fathers. If Sharon could do what she wanted and live her dreams, she could bring Phi Phi with her. It was weird, Phi Phi mused, the impact the tall blonde had had on her – they had literally despised each other at first, Sharon’s “go with the flow” attitude often coming to a head with Phi Phi’s intensely driven one. But that was a long time ago, and things had changed so much, Phi Phi almost couldn’t believe it. This email was from a smaller agency, but it still announced the message Phi Phi had been longing to hear. Essentially, she would be starting a month’s work experience, and that could develop into a job offer. A wide grin spreading over her face, Phi Phi made a loud noise of satisfaction and immediately brought up the window to reply, letting everything she’d been taught about making good decisions and waiting overnight fly out the window. In an almost poetic coincidence, almost the exact second Phi Phi hit send on the email, her phone lit up with a notification. For a second, Phi Phi could only blink at it before scooping it up and lying back on her bed, groaning when she saw it was Michelle asking her if she could pick up an extra shift from now on. Phi Phi knew what her response had to be, but she did not want to execute it. Michelle was feared by almost all the staff, and for good reason, although it was rumoured she had a heart of gold. Maybe the fact Sharon hadn’t responded to her in almost a week was because Michelle had murdered her or something equally as terrible. Rolling her eyes at her stupid overimagination she started typing out the email, words coming to her heavy in her mind and flinging them into sentences. I’m leaving…. Moving on … Bigger things…..Enjoyable working here…..I’m so sorry. She wasn’t quite sure if the jumbled, excited chaos that was her mind had translated particularly well, but the intent was clear. Phi Phi O’Hara, after working at the same supermarket for almost four years, was quitting. She hit send, heart beating a million miles in her chest, for some reason suddenly stressed about what Michelle would say to her. Michelle’s response was really nothing worth stressing over. Alright Phi Phi. Thank you. It’s been a pleasure having you work for us. We’ll get everything settled next time you come in. Heart still hammering, she pulled up Sharon’s number, and let her thumb hover over the call button for just a second before bringing it down and initiating the dial tone. It rang through, Sharon’s voice telling her to leave a message, she could almost hear the endearing sneer in the words. After a brief pause, Phi Phi began to speak. “Hey Sharon, it’s Phi Phi, I wanted to know if you’d want to catch up to talk and because I really want to see you again- like, yeah that came out wrong, but I would. I’ve made some changes to my life and I want to share them with you because it’s kinda because of you that all this is happening. Ooh, sorry I’m rambling, I’ll say bye now, call me back. Love ya!” She hung up and threw her phone on the floor before moving to flick her bedroom lights off. She rolled over to fall asleep, as her phone lit up with new text messages. From Party City: I’d love to man! From Party City: I’m so happy you’re happy From Party City: Love you too xx +++ For so long Bianca’s life had been predictable. She had lived in mornings, opening a store she didn’t want to be at, just so she could earn the money that her shows couldn’t provide. She’d gotten into a routine, and liked it. She’d snark at dumb customers, countdown the minutes until she could clock off, then leave the store, and go home and live her life. She’d never lived in the evenings. Sure, it hadn’t been the best routine, but it was familiar. Adore Delano had been a new part of the routine. Bianca usually had no time for the technicolour-haired, hungover musicians she’d see roaming the club strip in the early morning. She thought they were fake and shallow, despite the faint allure they had, like holograms. But for some reason, one girl had changed her entire view. That first meeting, months ago, doesn’t seem life changing - just a girl asking where to find a pick-me-up, slurring her words, swinging her hair and actually laughing at Bianca’s jokes, unlike half of the customers that just blinked gormlessly. Now, Bianca would tuck a bottle of Berocca behind the display at her register everyday for when Adore came through at the crack of dawn. A single action that had changed her entire routine, had led to her being excited to go to work, to talk to Adore. That was why Bianca was now standing in a club she’d seen online, that advertised a certain singer, that she knew Adore raved about. It was why she’d changed her sensible work shirts and typical boat neck dresses for a shorter number and why she’d let her hair out, and swept it through with glitter. She wasn’t really sure if the glitter was a good idea. She was standing in the club, awkwardly off to the side. You are too old for this, she thought, and was about to turn and leave, when a hand grabbed her arm. She whirled back around, to see Adore in a glittery black singlet and cutoff shorts. It was an Adore she’d seen so many times, but she looked better. Bianca acknowledged everyone did when their eyeliner wasn’t smudged from a night of dancing and drinking and their lipstick actually stayed on their plump, full lips. God she has nice lips. “Oh my god Bianca, you look so great! I love the glitter!” squealed Adore. “And you actually don’t look like a hot mess for once,” responded Bianca. “I always look hot though.” Bianca rolled her eyes then cracked a smile. “That you do.” Adore’s face lit up and she began pulling Bianca with her. “Come dance with me,” she yelled before disappearing into the crowd. Bianca hesitated. Am I too old for this? she wondered. She glanced over to Adore who was now waiting in the centre of the club, swaying to the pounding beat. What the hell, she thought, and stepped onto the floor.

52 notes · View notes

mystic-earth-angel · 7 years

Note

Hey! You're account is really great! Can you do RFA + Saeran finding out MC loves to sing and does so often but sings kind of bad and knows it

So late. If it’s any consolation I’m tone death. Thanks for the request Anon!

…

Yoosung

Your singing along to the radio while making lunch whenYoosung and Saeyoung walk in.

It was the first time he had heard you singing so clearlyand…it was not good

Seven cracks a smile and holds his hands together, “You havethe voice of an angel!”

You roll your eyes. “Psh, I know right? I should have my ownconcert.”

Yoosung watches the transaction with a smile.

“Well there is a musical audition in town. Why don’t youaudition?” Seven snickered.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply.

To Yoosung you seemed pretty serious and he started toworry.

He was torn between wanting to be supportive and wanting toprotect you from humiliation.

He kept thinking about it for days and listening forimprovement until he finally sat you down.

“We need to talk…”

You sigh, “If this is about LOLOL and how I separated fromthe fight to steal loot, I said I was sorry. I even offered you guys some.”

“You offered 10% after we all died—“ he interrupted himself.“No, it’s not about that.”

“You’re lucky I offered ten…” you mutter.

“Not the point,” he insisted. “I want to talk about yoursinging.”

“My singing?” You were very confused now.

He took a deep breath. “It’s bad. You…can’t sing.”

You smirked. “That’s it? I know—“

“Your pitch is off and you can’t hit high notes.”

“True but…”

“When you were watering the plants and singing theneighborhood dogs started howling.”

“Ok, hurtful.”

“I mean we could get you lessons but it will take a lot ofwork.” He held your hands. “I want to support you.”

“Yoosung!”

“Yes?”

“I know I’m bad at singing. I don’t care to get anybetter.”

“Oh…” So he had over worried again.

Oh.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—well I did but, it came out meanright? Oh man I really am an idiot!”

You held his face in your hands. “It’s ok. I’m glad you werehonest with me.”

His violet eyes perked up. “Really?”

“Of course.” You smiled and then cast your eyes to the side.“That last comment really hurt though…”

“I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything to make it up to you?”

“Anything?” You gave a mischievous smirk and got closer tohim.

…

Yoosung pouted fiercely.

This was not what hehad in mind…

“Yoosung! Distract the guards while I get the treasure!”

“I feel so used,” he responded.

“Oh come on, if you do a good job we can have some real funafterwards.” You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He sighed and continued on with a promise of his reward.

Zen

You almost didn’t make it through but you had held strong.

When the “Promiscuous Jalapeno Topping” the musical hadended you were finally able to breathe without bursting into laughter.

Zen looked at you expectantly.

“You have such a great singing voice Zen,” it was the onlyreally positive thing you could say.

It was true though, the man had a great set of pipes.

and a great set of abs…

He smiled brightly. “I practiced every day for that role andI pulled it off,” he stated proudly.

“Your hard work really shows.” You ate some more popcorn.

“Hey! What about you?”

“Me?”

“I want to hear your singing voice!” He changed positions toface you on the couch.

“Um, I don’t think so. It doesn’t compare to yours at all.”Maybe flattery would get you out of this.

“I’m a professional. I just want to hear your beautifulvoice, please?”

Aw man, his pleading face was too much. Too cute…Overpowering will to defy…

“Ok…”

His eyes lit up as he waited.

You started to sing a favorite song of yours and you couldslowly see his facial expression fall.

You stopped and covered your face. “See that’s why I didn’twant to! I’m not good ok?”

“No babe! Its ok, I think it sounds beautiful, because it’sthe voice of the person I love some much.”

Smooth my man.

You moved your hands to look him in the eye. “Really?”

He nodded. “Like the sweet melody of a graceful whale.”

“A whale?!”

“Wait no I meant—“

You threw a pillow at him. “I can’t believe you called me awhale!”

You stomped into the bedroom and locked the door.

He knocked on the door. “Sweetie wait, whales can be sexy!”

“Please stop talking!” you yelled.

Poor Zen

Jaehee

She had wanted to stay in for the night but no, everyonewanted to go out to Karaoke

The only reason Jaehee agreed was because there would befree food and alcohol

What she hadn’t expected was you getting drunk

“Alright, it’s MC’s turn to sing!” Yoosung declared.

“Hold my shrink!” You slurred and handed a glass to Juminand made your way to the front.

When you grabbed the microphone and when you started to singalong with the song it was a mess

No one expected you to be so horrible of a singer but youput on a good show

Jaehee snatched away Seven’s phone as he tried to record youwhile cheering you on

When the song was finished you bowed and almost fell over ifZen hadn’t have caught you

The scene was so graceful she took a picture beforecollecting you from Zen’s arms

It was time to head home.

Jaehee excused the two of you and left the party

Getting you to the taxi was easy but getting you out and toyour shared apartment was not.

Finally, you were both inside and she basically carried youto bed.

She took off your shoes and jacket and left you alone for amoment so she could change.

When she came back it looked like you were asleep and curledup in the blanket.

She laid down next to you and sighed.

“You really are an awful singer,” she stated moving somehair from your face.

“I know,” your voice startled Jaehee. “But it makes peoplelaugh so why not?”

“You should be more careful,” she stated.

You moved closer and reached around her waist to hold her.“Thank you for taking care of me.” You kissed her neck.

Jaehee blushed. “Of course.”

“How about I repay you?” you spoke low moving downunderneath the blanket.

“Wait you should probably sleep—“

She felt you kiss up her legs and waited in anticipation.

And waited. Than waited some more.

She lifted up the blanket to reveal you had fallen fastasleep on top of her.

Your head in her lap.

You sure caused a lot of trouble

Jaehee thought about whether to set an alarm clock or bang apan to wake you up in the morning as revenge.

Jumin

You were looking over some work files at the kitchen table withheadphones in, singing to the tune.

Being tone death was a real punishment. Even when you thinkyou sound good, you probably sound horrible.

Which is why you only sang in private where no one couldhere.

“Let me be. Let me be. Go ahead and set me free.”

Two hands grabbed your shoulders and you jumped out of yourchair and swung your fist.

A large hand caught it and surprised grey eyes stared backat you.

“Jumin,” you said in relief.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had headphones in andcouldn’t hear me.”

You checked the time. “It’s so early. Is everything ok?”

“The day ended early due to some appointment cancellationsso I came home.”

You nodded. “I was just doing some work. Elizabeth is in thebedroom sleeping.”

He returned your nod and sat down in the chair next to you.

You sat back down and put one head phone in, leaving theother ear available in case Jumin wanted to talk.

“You’re not going to keep singing?” he asked.

You look wide eyed at him. “You heard me?”

“Yes.”

You groaned assuming he was teasing you. “Go ahead and makeyour jokes.”

“About?”

“My singing. I’m horrible at it.”

Now his eyes widened. “That’s ridiculous. You soundlovely.”

“What?”

“I was listening to you for some time before I interruptedyour work.” He kissed your hand. “Your voice is so calming for my nerves.”

You blushed. No one had ever complimented your singingbefore.

Nervously you continued to sing just for him and did sooften.

It turns out he was tone death too.

…

The gang clapped as MC finished her song during karaoke.

“That was wonderful darling,” Jumin kissed you gently as yousat next to him.

“Did he hear the same thing we did?” Zen whispered.

“Well they say love is blind,” Yoosung shrugged.

“Does it make you deaf too?” Jaehee asked.

Saeyoung

You were singing aloud while doing some laundry.

You weren’t very good but you couldn’t help but sing. Thesolution was to turn the music up louder than you.

Saeyoung walked by the doorway but did a double take towhistle and clap for you.

“Encore!” he yelled.

You smirked and threw the last of the clothes in the washer.“Very funny.”

“I am,” he responded leaning against the doorway.

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a talented singer. In factI’ll be the first hacker spy rock star in space.”

“Oh really? Prove it,” youchallenged. “Sing for me.”

“Alright, prepared to be serenadedmy lady.”

He didn’t even need music as hestarted to sing a slow song and you had to admit it.

His voice was heavenly.

You let him sing the entire songand when he finished he was even cockier.

“Well?”

“It’s not really rock starmaterial per say,” you avoided the question.

He pinched your cheeks lightly. “Don’tbe a Grumpy Garry.”

“I’m not a Grrrumpy Garrry,” youresponded as he still pinched your cheeks.

He chuckled and released them.

“Where did you learn to sing likethat?”

“Your super-hot boyfriend had tolearn a lot of different skills for his work. I cross dressed as a famous foreignsuper star one time.”

“Wow,” you said in amazement. “Andthey had no idea?”

“Not until they tried to kidnap meand I kicked ass, wah!” He posed in a ridiculous kung-fu style.

You giggled. “Still, I wish I hadyour skills.”

“You don’t need them. Just keepsinging how you like. I enjoy it better your way.”

You blushed. “Real smooth popstar.”

He smiled and planted a kiss onyour lips.

“So did you wear somethingscandoulous or classy?”

“Psh, no amount of clothing cancontain all this sex appeal but I’m one classy bitch.”

“Haha, you do have nice legs.”

Saeran

He had been invited to spend lunchwith his brother’s friends but the conversation had turned to a strange topic.

“If the girl you liked was ahorrible singer how would you tell her?” Yoosung asked.

“I would tell her that even ifothers didn’t appreciate her beautiful voice I would treasure it more than anypirate,” Zen sighed dramatically.

“Why would you need to tell her?Surely someone already mentioned her horrible singing to her,” Jumin responded.

“Video tape it for my enjoymentand save it for a good laugh,” Seven said confidently.

“You’re all horrible!” Yoosungcried.

Saeran sipped his drink and stayedquiet.

“What about you Saeran?” Yoosungasked.

“What about me?”

“Is MC a good singer?” Zen asked.

“I don’t know,” he responded. Hehad heard MC hum a few times but wasn’t sure about the quality.

“So if MC was a horrible singerwhat would you say?” Saeyoung pushed.

“That she was a horrible at it andshould refrain from singing in public as to not embarrass herself.”

“That’s horrible too!” Yoosungcried.

“You’ll break her heart! And ifyou hurt her feelings I’ll hurt you,” Zen boasted getting heated.

“I thought it was fine,” Jumincommented confused.

Saeyoung put his arm around hisbrother. “Look bro, you gotta be smooth. Don’t end up alone like Jumin.”

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” Juminglared. “Also, I’m not alone. I have Elizabeth.”

“So I should lie?” Saeranretorted.

“Just be nice about it at least. Iwould be supportive and just let her know with kindness,” Yoosung piped in.

Saeran didn’t really get it. Hethought about it the entire way home too.

As long as he never heard you singit wouldn’t be an issue.

He walked in the door to begreeted by you.

“You’re home! I need your help,”you tell him.

“I have to analyze this song forone of my classes.”

What. He thought.

“Listen to this part and tell mewhat you think it’s about.”

You hand him your phone and earphones. He tries to listen but some of the words are unclear.

“The words are hard to hear,” hesays.

“It goes like this.” You start tosing out the part and he realizes his worst dilemma coming true as he finds youare not the best singer.

“Well?” you finish.

He panics and says the first thingthat comes to mind.

“I’ll treasure your voice morethan any pirate.”

“Wait, what?”

He can feel his face get warm. Outof the entire conversation why had Zen’s words stuck with him?

“I mean, your great at singing…”

“Are you teasing me? I’m horribleat singing,” you snicker.

“Wait you know?”

“Yup, realized it when my momsigned me up for choir. I mouthed the every song because I sounded so bad.”

Of course she knew. He hated this.

“Right.”

“Did the guys tell you somethingweird?”

Hit the nail on the head.

He nodded.

You sigh. “Look, just be honestwith me. Your words can be harsh sometimes but I know you mean well. Just beyou and I’ll be happy.”

He was really relieved to hearthat. He was happy yet pained at the thought of being so accepted still.

“Now help me with this song,” yousmiled.

“Ok,” he smiled and kissed yourforehead.

“How am I supposed to work whenyou act so cute?” you exclaim and kiss him back.

240 notes · View notes

asundizzay · 7 years

Text

DRAFT BOX: FOTO FAIL FRIDAY: FROMANCE.

I wanted to take the non-traditional route in approaching this belated Valentine’s Day post by ignoring the standard conglomeration of hearts & love, and photographing nouns that relate to some of my favorite rom-coms/rom-drams/rom-com-drams, because i’m a low-key sucker for sappy things (cheesy). I was out all day hoping to photo some movie thangs and nerds fighting the storm with their umbrellas, but nope, just got wind-slapped all around (stray branches included )–the rain didn’t start pouring until I got home because of course.

* UPDATE (02/21): THIS IS NOW A TBT OF A FOTOFAIL OF A COMMERCIAL HOLIDAY THAT HAPPENED ONE WEEK AGO LOL HOW. *

**UPDATE (02/22): LOL it’s Wednesday. But this is finally complete. #WhyNotWednesday **

500 Days of Summer ( 2009 )

Rachel Hansen: Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn’t mean she’s your soul mate.

Tom and Summer were two separately flawed characters whose bittersweet union was doomed from the start. For the longest time, I saw Summer as the b-word who carelessly wrecked Tom’s heart, when in reality, Tom’s insufferable sense of entitlement and manipulative nice guy complex subtly revealed that he’s actually kind of a jerk. Except for that whole dance number to Hall & Oates You Make My Dreams and showing Summer his favorite spot and drawing painstakingly detailed buildings on her arm. That was cute. Another thing that saved this film for me was presenting the nonlinear “boy meets girl” narrative in the dude’s perspective, forewarning the audience that this is not a love story, and allowing these two imperfect humans to individually see a happy ending: Summer marries someone she truly wants, with whom she shares a genuine connection, and Tom is refreshingly presented another “season” to start anew, with someone potentially better suited for him. Additionally, a mind-blowing color theory visually demonstrates how these two were simply not made for each other, which can be found here.

cute score: 6 ( eh cute, JGL A 10 tho )

photo: Water Court at California Plaza on the upper level of Tom’s favorite spot in Angels Knoll, Los Angeles, 2009.

13 Going On 30 ( 2004 )

Matt: You can’t just turn back time.

Jenna: Why not?

In this essentially female version of Big, Jenna Rink’s 13 year-old self wishes to be thirty, flirty and thriving after some dudes and mean girls (which premiered the same year!) ruined her birthday party. On cue, magic dust spins her into an It’s A Wonderful Life-type alternate reality where she is living the dream as a rich, successful editor for her favorite fashion magazine. She reconnects with her childhood BFF, Matt, and they ultimately catch feelings faster than a winter cold. But aw dip, chocolate chip, Matt is hella engaged and about to be married, and now conflicted because Jenna has finally reciprocated his feels, but you know, commitment and whatever. A string of miscommunication and conflict occurs, then Jenna shows up to Matt’s wedding where he’s like, LOL, look I’ve always loved you but the past can’t come back yo. Upon hearing this, she cries with intense regret, wishing she could just be 13 again for a do-over. The same magic dust gradually falls (for effect), and the scene reverts to her birthday party where she enthusiastically chooses Matt ( who grows up looking like Mark Ruffalo ) over the 80s cool kids, and their story ends all sweetly with the pair eating their favorite childhood candy on the lawn of a pink house, interestingly designed like her dream house, figuratively implying that her deepest wish has come true (or not).

cute score: 8 ( hecka cute the Thriller moment is still awkward for me tho and omg look Mark Ruffalo didn’t even want to do it lol click here )

photo: New York Public Library, setting for magazine’s ‘Class of 2004′ photoshoot, NYC, 2012

10 Things I Hate About You ( 1999 )

Patrick: Yeah, and is she worth all this trouble?

Cameron: Well, I thought she was, but you know, I…

Patrick: Well, she is or she isn’t. See first of all, Joey is not half the man you are. Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. Go for it.

A modern take on Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew ( the numerous Shakespeare references / allusions make sense now ) introduces us to the Stratford sisters, their strict father with the winning punchlines, awkward Cameron with the sidekick BFF, the “obligatory cool kid slash model” Joey, and resident bad ( bad bad bad ) boy, Patrick Verona doing bad boy things with a bunsen burner. So here’s the thing: Bianca really wants to date Joey but she can’t date anyone until her shrewd AF sister dates, which prompts her to set up the whole “this bet gets outta hand” premise that heavily spawned in 1999. Obvious villain Joey pays Patrick to win Kat’s heart and sing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” on the bleachers to win my heart, then he inevitably falls for her. In a callback to She’s All That, Kat eventually finds out about everything leading to the tearful read of the eponymous (these are clearly over 10 things ) poem in class, as Patrick looks on like man I done fcuked up yo. But wait, he gets Kat the guitar she’s been wanting, insists that his feels for her are hella real and all is forgiven. Also, Cameron finally gets Bianca, and she punches Joey (whose nose spray ad is now ruined) thrice for herself, her sister and Yung Cameron. Oh yeah, and Cameron’s BFF ends up finding a Shakespeare lover just like him, lol, nerds.

cute score: 9 ( super cute, everyone gets who they want and the real bad boy gets what he deserves! They had a band on the freakin’ roof dude )

photo: Fremont Troll, where Cameron and Bianca talk and stuff, Seattle, 2009

A Case of You / Comet ( 2013 / 2014 )

Birdie: Success is a myth. Love’s the only true currency. After all this is done, all that really matters is how and who you loved.

———–

Dell: Why does it feel so impossible to let you go?

Dell: It’s an addiction, you know. That’s all it is.

Dell: It’s a biochemical addiction. It’s so stupid.

Dell: If you think about it relationships are all totally narcissistic.

Dell: Basically, you’re just looking for someone who’ll love you as much as you love yourself. That’s all it is.

———–

Two Justin Long movies for the price of fun.

I’ve probably checked off so much of this dude’s filmography that I can easily tell you that one of his many underrated roles would be a cameo as George Harrison in the equally underappreciated Walk Hard: A Dewey Cox Story. I know… comedy is understandably the toughest genre to press onto humans, so to each his own. These two films fall in that hit or miss category–on one end, you have Sam, an author who meets a barista and quickly becomes infatuated with her, even more so after creeping reading her Facebook profile and mimicking those interests in order to attract her attention, eventually using her as a muse for his story ( A Case Of You ), and on the other, you have Dell and Kim caught in a classic case of star-crossed lovers whose rocky relationship is dreamily depicted through a non-linear narrative of parallel universes, reminiscent of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind ( Comet ). Despite his ridiculous Facebook faux pas, Birdie admits that she was adding random items to her profile to see if Sam would change, and to no one’s surprise, she still liked him anyway because if a connection is real then it’s real, and it’s extremely important, to like, just be yourself because there’s more to a person than what they choose to display on the Interwebz. And Dell and Kim continue to sail through different universes, with Dell wishing to live in a permanent world where they end up together 💔.

cute score: 3 ( So much fighting–whether with oneself, another person, or the world, das not dat cute. ).

photo: Light trails, space, and time to represent chaotic nature of the parallel universes in Comet, NYC, 2015

Begin Again ( 2013 )

Dan: You can tell a lot about a person by what’s on their playlist.

Greta: I know you can. That’s what’s worrying me.

I’ll throw in Before We Go, Friends With Benefits, or even Lost In Translation into this mix of getting to know a person as you explore a new city together–whether platonically or romantically, it’s still awesome. This particular love story focuses on the protagonists’ mutual love for music rather than feelings towards each other–though their respectable relationships with his estranged wife and her ex-boyfriend still romanticize the plot. Dan Mulligan, a formerly successful record executive drunkenly discovers Gretta James, a newly independent songwriter reluctantly singing in a low-key bar thanks to pre-late late show James Corden. He sees great potential, she doesn’t believe in herself, I mean how could she, her ex-boyfriend slash songwriting partner is none other than recent singing sensation, AdamN Levine Dave Kohl. After Dan’s business partner Yasiin Bae/Yasiin Bey/Mos Def Saul initially rejects Gretta from their record label, the pair take matters into their own hands and decide to produce their own album together, using local talented musicians backed by the sights and sounds of New York City and the result is pure magic like fireworks in your ears, the visual “wow that’s so glorious” part not the actual “boom boom” noise part, because you would totally go deaf. This is a story about how music can bring people together (production, collaboration, Dan reconciling with his wife ) or tear them apart ( Dave cheating on Greta ), seek forgiveness ( Dave singing Lost Stars, Don Henley singing The Heart of The Matter [not in this movie, that song just popped up in my head as I wrote that lol] ), or drive passion ( Violet dreams of becoming a guitarist/ Gretta’s career kicking off ). Music is love, music is life, and Gretta’s album sells hella copies from its online release, and things are looking up for Dan and his life. Dan in real life. After encountering a series of failures/contemplating suicide, discovering Gretta, producing this album, and making amends with Saul, his wife and daughter, I guess you can say that Dan (as well as Gretta? ) was given another chance to fairly begin…again.

cute score: 7 ( Dan drunkenly composing a song in his head, The headphone splitter scene tho, das kinda cute )

photo: Times Square, the scene stealer of the headphone splitter scene tho, NYC, 2012

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ( 2004 )

Clementine: Meet me in Montauk.

It’s 3:41 AM and my body hates me. Especially my eyes. Okay, so two contrasting personalities, Joel and Clementine, meet on a train and immediately connect like 4, only to learn that they are former lovers and Clementine had erased her memories of Joel after some petty argument, and Joel’s like ‘wtf bro’ and decides to erase his memories of her. The familiar surrealistic non-linear narrative that I heart so hard navigates through Joel’s head space, intercut between scenes of sadness and anger, to happier times until the final memory where everything crumbles to the ground like dust in the wind, as he tries to hold onto his last moment with Clementine, after realizing that he still loves her. Other story lines, connect, Kirsten Dunst finds out she had her memory of the doctor erased and she gets mad upset, like ‘i’m gonna show everyone (who has undergone this procedure) their memory erasure records’ upset. Elijah Wood is just super devious. COTDAMN MARK RUFFALO IS ALSO IN THIS MOVIE LOL WTF YO. The scene restarts and Joel and Clementine, meet on a train and immediately connect like 4, only to learn that they are former lovers and they’re like “oh whaa” and think that maybe starting over would be a good idea or it might be the same but they go for it anyway and who knows what those two are up to now probably making sure that they don’t forget about each other amirite lol omg it’s already 4.

cute score: 2 ( Comet before comet was comet, not dat cute, but like Comet, beautiful cinematography is a 10)

photo: Imagine this human’s hair is orange, you know, like Clementine, ArtWalk, San Diego, 2014

——–

honorable mentions: Garden State. Ryan Gosling & Ryan Reynolds’ things. Scott Pilgrim Vs The World. High Fidelity. Say Anything. John Hughes’ things.

0 notes