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survivorraccooncity2 · 2 years

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Episode 2: "This round was literally determined by Rock Paper Scissors" ~ Els

LINKS:

Challenge: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/survivorraccooncity2/686258095295528960?source=share

Results: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/survivorraccooncity2/686348384424099841?source=share

Tribal Council: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/survivorraccooncity2/686440161313259520?source=share

CONFESSIONALS:

Adeline

Once again, i pregame and think I’ll stay UTR but the game starts and i get impatient and just want to do something. so i volunteered for the summit/hero challenge. And my arch nemesis Ava is there too....

Zukiswa

Today was a quiet day. Nothing major happened. I was so happy that my tribe won the challenge and the plan with my alliance worked. Clefford has really come through and I now trust him. Looks like me, MJ and Clefford are my ride or die in this game. I am also making very interesting connections with Jinx and Ava. These are that at a human level. We have not even spoken about the game yet in our one on ones. It's just very exciting.

Julia

I confess, the relief at not having tribal tonight, is palpable. I almost got 'tripp'ed up but plans have not been derailed. However, they have changed a little bit. I was trying to save Tony and i dont know why. He dissed me, so ok Tony, dont come looking for my help later.... these boys dont wanna play with me... their loss...im used to being underestimated. Thats one of my superpowers, so im throwing my hat in the ring like a boomerang baby

Ariel

I am writing a confessional early because waiting for the challenge result is making me nervous, and there is nothing I can do about it. So MJ is trying to form an alliance with me and Navi which I am actually really excited about. We all came from different tribes and have different time zones. So yaaaaay! This is actually makes me excited to merge. Hopefully the 3 of us makes it to merge. Speaking of merge, I still have to put myself in a good position within our tribe for me to Survive. And honestly, I have no idea what's going on with our tribe. I have a good talk with all of my tribemates but that is all I got. I don't know who is close with who. I hope Adeline trust me enough to keep me. I feel like I could work with Dj and even with Jinx and Dominique. But my main priority for now is try to work with Adeline, so I can connect to Ava and Els at merge as well. Idk, I am just hoping we will be safe again. I don't want to go to tribal council. Agggh By the way, Survivor SA just dropped the cast and trailer for their newest season Survivor: Return of the Outcast and it looooooks a FIIIIIIIIRE. Go check it out if you haven't. That's all. Bye, amping!

Cliftone

Waking up to a new day after the first Tribal was CANCELLED. Boyyy did we get so lucky! Especially me being that I actually missed Tribal. I would've gotten my first strike had it not been for Brandon being booted. Going forward I really have to be on top of things!

Yayyy! I eventually created an alliance with Navi and Ariel and we now have an alliance chat. I’m still on the look out but they seem sweet. Hopefully we all make it to the merge cos that’s the whole essence 😂

Adeline

Been way too tired to make video confs. But basically i volunteered for the summit. Ava was there 😡 nemesis. And then we all started the challenge and all couldn’t do it. So we negotiated for a bit and decided to go with rock paper scissors between the three of us. Ava won first, i won’t second, tony last. And we bribe the hosts so that they would tell our tribe that we gave up on the actual challenge LOL. Gave my coins to jinx and els

Hahahaha I probably the happiest girl in “Fiji” right now 🤣😂😅🤣 my tribe won immunity again! Whoop whoop! We’re giving the “Taku vibes” from survivor US season 42. Ava is really a useful tribe member and they’ve proven that twice. They also gave me a coin which means they trust me enough or like me at least. Everyone in my tribe says we should keep winning till merge! Yes I wish so too but I can’t stop thinking , what if we find our selves at tribal pre-merge. I don’t want that to catch us unaware so right now , I’m trying to make the best possible safest and wisest alliances ever. I’ll make Ava a very good friend but not an obvious ally except if they propose it. I think I’m just still trying to wrap my head round a-lot of things which is okay. Lastly, I need to check up on my one world ally (Navi) and make sure she isn’t gonna home. Ariel and I need her. That’s all for today. I slept of twice typing this. LOL

Zukiswa

Today was not so loud. I think I've made some connections with people outside my tribe though. Jinx feels like my first born. But I know this is a game and I can't play it like a Mom.

Julia

I am kinda bummed out that we lost the challenge and going back to tribal council to vote someone off. While i think our orig plan - with 2 variables will hold, and neither involves me, anxiety, never far away, IS nibbling at my fringes.... the member that lost the challenge would not engage in a alliance with lil 'old' me the day before and now its too late as ive solidified a connection in an interesting way.... tsk tsk... im glad i understood the assignment ahead of time, as in.... if you accept the challenge and fail, you gotta start dog paddling... now had that member been willing to form an alliance, Id be trying to save his arse... instead now i may be helping to orchestrate his virtual demise mwa ha ha ha ha

Evangelina

https://youtu.be/lCM9_bTdIzE (1 of 2) https://youtu.be/xBrIDtSQsGo (2 of 2)

Navi

Alright so it turns out we didn’t have to go to tribal for the first round… But then we still lost and we’re gonna lose a person regardless this round (yay…) So much for making the most of an opportunity, eh? Well I reached out to Els since they’re the person I trust the most at this point. They asked what I thought about the vote, I pitched Tony since he was one of the targets last round. I’m not super married to the plan, and I let them know that I’m will to hear out any ideas they have. They haven’t responded back yet. Everyone else has been radio silent except for Tony. We’re just talking about Canada lol. This vote is gonna be tough to coordinate on my end since I’m gonna be busy tomorrow (yay work 🙃), so hopefully we can get a plan going and get the pieces in place before I get really busy. But knowing my luck it’s going to be the most arduous process of all time 😭 Oh also, I’m now officially in an alliance with MJ and Ariel. I’ll try to update if anything major happens.

Ariel

Am I toast or am I f*cked? Shooooot, this definitely is not the best thing to happen to me right now. I feel like, Jinx and Adeline definitely is working together either with Dominique or Dj. Adeline and Jinx, both did not give me any coins. So that sucks. It means I am definitely not on their good graces, which I don't really know why? Is this about the time zone thing again? Is this about my past gameplay? Cause that sucks if it is. Anyway, there's nothing I can do about it. I guess I am just here waiting for my slaughter day. Erst, swap when??? Bye!

Adeline got us safety! That is a relief, but I am a little worried about how difficult the second challenge was! The difficulty level went up so drastically from the first round to the second round. I need to work more on my social game if the challenges are going to get more difficult like that.

Tony

https://youtu.be/40x8kmATL5M

Clefford

I can now say that the game has really started. I am that kind of person who is organized and want to see things my way or atleast have a control of it. I tried my best to control where coins would go. I had to give 4 coins to Els to prove my alliance with her and 3-3 for me and Jinx. I distributed m coins to MJ and Zukiswa, which both are in alliance, and to Ava since they got the highest score on our first challenge. As the second round started, Ava volunteered to be our Hero in the next challenge. We were all curious on how it will go. They also represented our Tribe at the Summit. When the challenge results been released, I was so proud of Ava for being the number one in the challenge and managed to secure our back-to-back immunity challenge wins. They are so great! BUT, I didn't received any Summit coin from her. I was so confused, because she should've reciprocated my gesture by giving her coin when I gone to The Summit. I felt like I lost control at that moment. I only got 5 coins for these rounds. I got scared of my position in my tribe, even though I'm in alliance with MJ and Zukiswa. I spend all of my coins at the Merchant's Emporium and got an Extortion Advantage where I can extort coins from someone. They must give it to be before tribal or else, they'll lose their vote on Tribal Council. I was so happy, because it was well spent! Now, I'm making observations on who have the most coins, so I can use this advantage.

Ava

https://youtu.be/oeIOvJkpcbM

Moth

My confessions have been boring and I apologize. I did not expect to be this busy X I hope it’s Tony. I’m happy it’s not me

Els

Hiiii, I bring you another confession that I should’ve done way sooner! This round was literally determined by Rock Paper Scissors It’s rock paper tribal Anyways Julia and I got on a call and rlly bonded, she revealed that she originally wanted me out bc she saw me as a threat and I was like omg but now she wants to work with me until the end bc she didn’t want to lie to me! Summit gave me 4 coins, assuming 2 from Adeline 2 from Tony, I think it’s best that we keep Tony and vote moth out bc I love moth but they haven’t been active at all I wish Tony had trusted me enough to tell me abt the Rock Paper Scissors but hey he gave me tokens so I’m not complaining!!

Jinx

im so fucking stressed right now 😭 and i have to make a confessional? *nancy wheeler vc* ITS BULLSHIT

Dom

So far I'm working on getting in the second person in my 3 person alliance. If this goes well and we all stay true and confident we will be good until the merge as we have pulled in over half the tribe. In this game you can never be too sure so I'm always on the skeptical side, no not paranoid. We will see how this plays out.

Cliftone

Tribal tonight!! I cannot wait to see how this all goes down (being that it's my first ORG and all) Even tho it's our second time having to head to Tribal, it'll be our first time actually voting someone out. I'll be submitting my vote right after this confessional.

Hunter

I honestly think these ppl r odd i like the els person and Adeline

GAME ROUND NOTES:

Ava, Tony, and Adeline volunteer as Heroes and Summit leaders

Ava volunteers without discussion with their tribe

During the challenge, the participants give up trying to do the challenge. They negotiate that they will pretend to have done the actual challenge, but will decide who wins by Rock, Paper, Scissors, Tony lost, sending Tricell to tribal council.

MJ, Navi, and Ariel form an alliance

Els and Julia grow incredibly close. Julia admits to Els that she wanted to target them, but this only brings them closer together

The Summit distributes their coins as such: Ava with 3 coins gives to Hunter, Moth, and MJ; Tony with 6 coins gives 2 to Evangelina, 2 to Els, 1 to Navi, and 1 to Julia; and Adeline with 3 coins gives 2 to Els and 1 to Jinx

Ariel freaks out because he hasn’t been given coins

Clefford feels betrayed by Ava because he didn’t get a coin from the Summit

MJ has figured out that the Summit gave coins to Hunter, Evangelina, and herself. They assume that Ava was responsibility for all of these (even though, they only gave coins to Hunter and MJ)

Clifford received the Extortion Advantage

Future Legends decides its better to get rid of Moth than Tony because the latter is more active

Els gave their 4 coins to Adeline

Adeline purchases the Heart Key which is an Alliance Revealer

Els doesn’t trust Navi because Julia told them about her telling Navi about voting out Els. Els is suspicious of Navi not telling them that Julia tried to target Els

EDGIC:

Clefford: MORP4 Ariel: UTRM3 Dominique: UTRP2 MJ: UTRP2 Zukiswa: UTRP2 Ava: MORN3 Julia: CPN3 Adeline: MORP3 Els: MORP4 DJ: UTRE2 Cliftone: UTRP2 Evangelina: UTRP2 Navi: MORP3 Jinx: UTRP3 Hunter: UTRM2 Tony: UTRM3 Moth: UTRM2

Raffy’s Winner Picks:

Navi, Els, MJ, Clefford

Amy’s Winner Picks:

Navi, Clefford, Adeline, Zukiswa

POWER RANKINGS:

Umbrella

1. Clefford 2. MJ 3. Zukiswa 4. Evangelina 5. Hunter 6. Ava

Tricell

1. Els 2. Navi 3. Julia 4. Cliftone 5. Moth 6. Tony

Progenitor

1. Adeline 2. Jinx 3. Dom 4. Ariel 5. DJ

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holykillercake · 3 years

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Love Ordeal

SANJI X f!READER

word count: 2k

summary: The Strawhts decide to play Secret Davy Treasure and Sanji doens´t stop asking whom you got.

highlight: ¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

warning: F.L.U.F.F.

notes: Guys! This a part 2/3 of a request for a fluff where they have a s/o that made them a thing with crochet and how they would react. Also, Secret Davy Treasure is like Secret Santa, but you know. ALSO, there is a surprise at the end!

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Just pick one, Luffy!¨

¨But which one?¨

¨It doesn´t matter!¨

¨Hmm, can I pick two?¨

¨NO!¨

Earlier that day, an old lady told Nami that whichever path Luffy chose would always lead to another Winter Island. So with the end of the year approaching and the cold weather, you decided to play Secret Davy Treasure, a great South Blue tradition.

It consisted of the participants writing their names on a piece of paper, mixing them in a bowl - or Luffy's hat - and drawing them. Whoever’s name you picked is who you will buy or make a Secret Davy Treasure.

You should have guessed that even something that sounded so simple would be complicated in the Thousand Sunny. The crew didn´t seem to understand nor follow the rules of physics, reality, and the game.

At first, Zoro folded his paper with his name on the outside; then Brook picked himself and didn´t tell anyone. Now you were struggling with Luffy, who couldn´t pick one because A) he wanted to know what was written inside, and B) he wanted to pick more than one.

While Franky, Usopp, and Chopper yelled at him, trying to make him understand, Brook laughed at the whole situation, and the rest of you wished to die and get reborn as clams.

Sanji adjusted the blanket around your bodies and hugged you tighter, chatting until the commotion was over.

¨Will you tell me?¨ he blew some smoke, and you tilted your head to look at him.

¨Tell what?¨

¨Who you got.¨

¨What? Of course no!¨ you laughed ¨This is not how you play it!¨

¨But we are a couple, Y/N-chan!¨

¨.., and?¨ you sang the word.

¨We shouldn't keep secrets from each other!¨

A cloud of white smoke came out of your mouth when you giggled before snuggling deeper in his arms.

¨Okaay,¨ Usopp crawled closer to you, defeated and holding Luffy´s hat ¨he will be the last one.¨

Despite your captain yelling that he should be the first to pick, you were all getting tired and opted to ignore him.

¨Thanks!¨ you used the blanket to cover yourself as you unfolded it.

A chuckle left your mouth when you saw the name written, and the blonde behind you tried to peek over your shoulder. But you were faster to put the piece of paper with the name of your boyfriend inside your bra.

You turned and gave him a peck on the cheek while he pouted.

You would have one week to come up with a Davy Treasure for Sanji, and you knew exactly what to do, but some butterflies still flew in your belly, wondering if he would like it.

As a matter of fact, he loved everything you did, from sweet love to extremely salty culinary disasters. He would find perfection in every little thing done by you.

Enjoying your last days on the island of Snow Globe Pole - yeah, almost as bad as ¨Long Ring Long Land¨ - you decided to tour the city, looking for what you needed to make your gift. Or rather, to crochet your gift.

That was the easy part, for you were on a winter island, yarn and wool were pretty abundant. Every style possible of every possible color, anything that crossed your mind was available in the store. It would have been distracting if you didn´t have the colors already chosen.

But again, so much for an innocent game. So much for a bit of fun. So naive to believe that Sanji would stop asking you whom you picked.

In his defense, he had gotten calmer during the first night. But after seeing the bag you brought from the store, he became even more annoying.

Charming, loving, but still annoying.

¨It´s not Franky, right? His hands wouldn´t fit in it.¨

¨His regular-sized-robotic-mannequin hands would.¨ you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

You could almost see the gasp stuck in his throat and his heart skipping a beat.

After that, he kept bringing you desserts, offering massages, and doing everything in his power to bribe you. Skypiea Sanji was not the real Love Ordeal. Secret Davy Treasure Sanji was the real Love Ordeal.

¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

He grumbled ¨I love you¨ back among some other things and marched to the kitchen with flames on the top of his head. You chuckled and went back to your colorful wools.

Before you chose his gift, you thought about Sanji and the things that he liked or needed. From cooking to smoking and women.

Cooking for him would be outrageous. You wanted to give him something amazing, and you couldn't compare to him in the kitchen. At all.

Women. You were the only woman he wanted and needed, and honestly, you were the woman for the job.

Now, smoking. You would not buy or make him cigarettes, obviously. But he had this adorable and clumsy thing of always burning the tips of his mittens whenever he lit a cigarette.

Because of that, you decided to crochet him one of those fingerless gloves that come with a mitten flap so he could cover his fingers once he was done. Like that, he would be warm and natural disaster-free.

¨There is orange, Y/N-chan! You got Nami, right?!¨ you jumped and almost stabbed yourself with the hook when he yelled in your ear.

¨Oh, my sweet Davy Jones, give me strength...¨ you whispered ¨There is also purple, Sanji-kun. It could be Brook or Robin.¨

He pondered over it a little, frowned, and made his way to the door.

¨Hey!¨ he turned with sad puppy eyes ¨Is this really important to you? To know who I got?¨ he nodded.

You gestured with your head, telling him to come closer. A big and bright smile appeared on his face, and your heart beat stronger. That smile, you would punch the Red Line broken to create another All Blue for that smile.

Oh, how you love this cook.

¨Ok! Just because I am asking I´ll tell you first, ok?¨ he spoke with a lower voice but still sparkly. You smiled and nodded. ¨I got Chopper! And I bought him a new backpack with a lot of compartments for his medical stuff.¨

The way he paid attention to the tiny details made you melt. He was always taking care of others, complimenting the crew - except Zoro - and celebrating even the smallest of the successes.

He showed you the blue backpack, very similar to Chopper´s current one, but a lot stronger, prettier, and more practical. He would love it, no doubts.

¨Well,¨ you began ¨I got... Usopp.¨

You felt terrible about telling him a lie, but you couldn´t spoil your surprise.

¨Since we´re going to winter islands, I don´t want his finger to get tangled when, Uhm... he´s picking his Ketchup Stars, Green Stars, or Let´s-scare-creepy-girls-to-death Stars. I really hope he likes it.¨

If you were not paying enough attention, you would have missed Sanji´s disappointed look, which he quickly hid with a kind smile.

¨You always think about everything, Y/N-chan. He will love it.¨ he kissed your forehead and went back to the kitchen.

You waited until he closed the door to cringe ¨You are going to hell, Y/N.¨

Finally, the Secret Davy Treasure day arrived. You would exchange gifts and then have a nice dinner if Luffy didn´t make a party out of it. He definitely would.

But you were also grateful that today was the day. Since you told Sanji that you had picked Usopp, he has been acting a little upset. The other guys didn´t notice, but you did.

You would always notice. And you had an idea why.

The gift exchanging rules were pretty simple. The Secret Davy had to offer information about the person receiving the treasure, and the others had to guess.

It started with Usopp, whose Secret Davy was Franky. He gave him a bunch of super tools and some colored light bulbs for the ¨Party Nipple¨ idea.

Franky´s Secret Davy was Robin. He gave her a journal with waterproof pages he created.

Robin´s Secret Davy was you, and she presented you with a beautiful copy of a fictional adventure book since you were always reading them on the ship.

Then it was your turn. You held the gift wrapped in a shiny blue paper and began to describe your Secret Davy.

¨My Secret Davy is... slightly annoying sometimes.¨

¨It´s the stupid-eyebrow.¨ Zoro said.

¨Shut up, marimo head!¨

You continued after Nami punched them. ¨My Secret Davy always takes care of us.¨

¨It´s Chopper!¨ you shook your head.

¨Hmm... my Secret Davy is an exceptional fighter! Really strong!¨

¨It´s me!¨

¨No, Zoro! It´s me! I will become the Pirate King!¨

¨Shut up, you two!¨

¨My Secret Davy is...¨ you looked at Sanji and smiled ¨... loving and caring.¨

He looked back at you, confused. Why would you say those about Usopp? Not that he wasn´t loving and caring, but... still.

¨My Secret Davy is... the man of my dreams, the prince of my fairy tale, and the love of my life.¨

A minute or two passed while everyone waited for Sanji to say something, but he remained frozen with a perplexed expression.

¨Sanji-san, I think the treasure is yours.¨ Brook said calmy.

The cook made his way to you slowly, taking the gift from your hands and opening it gently, without tearing the wrapping.

Did he get upset because of your lie?

¨Sanji...¨ you called him, but he kept staring at the gloves.

You saw his eyes fill with water before he excused himself and exited the deck, leaving everyone staring at you.

¨I don´t... I´m gonna...¨ you pointed and left too.

When you entered your room, he was standing, back turned to you. Was he really crying, or you saw things?

¨Sanji-kun?¨

¨You remembered...¨ he turned around, still holding the mittens ¨These colors...¨

¨Yeah, they don´t really match, but...¨

¨I wanted it so much, Y/N. When I saw it, I wanted it so much.¨

He rushed in your direction and hugged you tight. He hugged you and you felt all his emotions, you felt the weight he carried in his heart. Not a bad weight, just the weight of missing someone you love.

You knew that that was the reason he was pestering you so much, the colors. You had chosen the colors that Zeff, Sanji´s mentor, wore.

The fingers were orange and purple, like his striped shirt. You added yellow details of his hair; the blue of his ascot, and the white of his apron.

As you said, they didn´t match, but apparently, Sanji didn´t care.

He would always share stories about their lives and cook recipes that Zeff taught him. Despite him always calling him old man or damn geezer, the Red Leg was his father.

¨Thank you, Y/N-chan. I loved it.¨

The sound of him sniffing made you hold him stronger.

¨I miss that damn geezer.¨

¨I´m sure he misses you too, Little Eggplant.¨

¨Oi!¨

You squeaked and laughed when he threw on the bed.

¨I´ll show you Little Eggplant!¨

Hey, Guys! SURPRISE! Here´s my first decent art? hahaha THE MITTENS!

I don´t know if the quality dropped. I´m using krita and still don´t know how to adjust the settings stuff when I´m saving a jpeg. Anyway, I hope you liked it!

180 notes · View notes

honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Buckle Bunny

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,582

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

You were bribed (AKA you lost a bet) into going to a local rodeo and being a Buckle Bunny. Unbeknownst to you, a mildly bored Jack Daniels is waiting in the crowd. Unbeknownst to Jack, the buckle bunny he’s smooth talking is a whole lot more than meets the eye.

“I am not wearing this!” You shouted, flinging the hat at your laughing best friend. “I am wearing my own hat.”

Elle, still doubled over with laughter, took the shitty hat from you, gesturing to Harmony to pass over your actual cowboy hat. You settled the brown hat on your head, sighing.

About a month ago, Elle had made a stupid bet with you, who could stomach one of Harmony’s ridiculously frilly pink drinks the longest. You’d puked first, and therefore lost the bet. Elle’s reward? She demanded you attend your next rodeo as a buckle bunny.

“I hate you,” you growled, wiggling in your tiny shorts. “This is embarrassing! I am competing today.”

“I told you that you can absolutely put on real clothes when you compete,” Elle said, handing you your boots. “But until then, I want you to get some numbers! Find you a nice sugar daddy or something.”

You reached behind you to smack a squealing Elle, Harmony almost falling off the bed with how much she was laughing.

“We’re gonna be late,” Harmony said finally, standing and saving Elle from your wrath. “Come on.”

The drive to the rodeo was quiet, with you sulking in the backseat. Buckle bunnies were often the bane of your existence, and now you had to pretend to be one.

The rodeo was, as expected, crowded. The fair was also in town, and between the rides and the rodeo, there were hundreds of people gathered in what was once an empty field.

“Just find a hot cowboy and go flirt relentlessly!” Elle said as she walked off to find the funnel cake. “Have fun!”

You gave her a middle finger, tried to pull your shorts down yet again, and headed off.

Wandering was easy. The fair and rodeo were your playground, and you knew every corner of the space, from the rigged games to the mildly unstable Ferris wheel.

“Well hey there little lady,” a voice drawled beside you as you finally decided to grab something to eat. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ all the way out here?”

Resisting the urge to gag, you turned, seeing an unfairly attractive man raising his eyebrows at you. He was stupidly good looking and dressed like a southerner, but not a full blooded cowboy. The hat looked authentic enough though.

“Oh,” you said, trying to act ditzy. “Just wanted to see what the commotion was. It’s so hot!”

The man grinned, taking off his sunglasses and revealing blazingly amazing brown eyes. In the sun, they looked whiskey gold. “Well, I’m Jack.”

You gave him your name, looking wistfully at the food truck. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want somethin’?”

Jack shrugged. “Might as well.”

You two stood beside each other as the line moved up, until you were ordering your good luck charm, a shamrock green cup of shaved ice. It was margarita and spearmint flavored, aptly nicknamed the Mojito, despite not having a drop of alcohol.

Jack took a minute, but finally ordered a plain cherry cup of shaved ice. He beat you to the register, winking as he paid.

“I could’ve paid,” you pouted, taking a bite of your shaved ice and immediately feeling a reprieve from the blistering heat.

“You could’ve,” Jack agreed. “But you didn’t.”

Snorting in a likely unflattering way, you led Jack towards the rodeo portion of the field. “So. What’re you here for, cowboy?”

Jack smiled. “The rodeo, of course. Got the day off of work. Figured I’d relax the way my dad used to.”

You smiled. Jack was surprisingly more likable than you’d expected. You and him found a spot in the mostly empty bleachers around the rodeo ring and just talked. The metal of the bleachers burned your thighs, but you ignored it in favor of staring at Jack.

He was gentle with you, happily explaining rodeo terms you’d known since before you could walk. You pretended to be entirely clueless, keeping up the buckle bunny act. You’d almost told him about the dare, but then the thought of him seeing the supposedly dumb bunny getting a nearly perfect saddle bronc score was too good to pass up.

When an announcer called all the competitors to the tent, you jumped up, checking your watch. “Oh goodness, is that the time? My daddy’s gonna kill me!”

Jack chuckled, standing as well. “Sure you can’t stay? The show’s about to start.”

You shook your head. “Sorry cowboy, daddy’s super strict. See you!” You planted a kiss on his cheek and winked as you walked away.

Jogging to the competitor’s tent, you immediately checked in and detoured to the bathroom. Putting on proper pants, a button down shirt, a shamrock green vest, your belt and leg covers, and your spurs, you rushed out to join the other competitors, nodding to men you’d competed with all your life. This wasn’t a real competition, it was mostly just for fun and entertainment, so you weren’t worried about the competitors being nasty. In fact, some of them grinned and clapped your back in greeting, as if you’d been the best of friends for years.

Turning your attention to the blathering announcer, you tuned in just as he announced the saddle bronc. You were second to last, with only five people before you.

Those five people went and were judged loosely, and then they were leading you to the horse you’d be riding. It wasn’t your horse, no, your horse was waiting for the timed events. Saddle bronc was the only roughstock event you rode, and boy was it worth the risk.

Situating your spurs above the chestnut horse’s shoulders, you gripped the bronc rein tied to the horse’s bridle with one hand and secured your hat one last time with the other.

Just like that, a buzzer was sounding, and you were off, jolting around wildly as the chestnut tried to throw you off. But between your hand and your thighs, you weren’t going anywhere. The chestnut kept kicking, and you moved with him, back and forth and back and forth like a wave, your free hand occasionally touching your hat to keep it on your head, but it mostly stayed free, helping keep the balance. Your spurs dug into the chestnut’s shoulders and neck, just enough pressure to piss him off and keep him kicking, but not too much, lest you actually hurt the horse.

The chestnut whirled around, trying to throw you. You’d never ridden this horse before, but he was definitely a bucking horse, and knew as much about the job as you did.

Eventually, you were thrown from the chestnut’s back, hitting the dirt and rolling away from the horse so he didn’t hurt you.

You stood once it was safe, hearing cheers as you swept your hat from your head and bowed deeply, a triumphant grin on your face.

“And for competitor 6, a score of 90!”

It wasn’t your best, but you were extremely happy, bowing to the judges and walking off to go wait for the final competitor. As you waited, you looked over the events list. For the timed events, steer wrestling would be first, after the roughstock events finished. You didn’t compete in steer wrestling. Not because you couldn’t, but because, like the remaining two roughstock events, they were too rough on your body. You’d stick to the other events, thank you very much.

When the final competitor finished, they called everyone out to assess scores. A 90 was damn close to perfect, and if you were paying attention correctly, you’d won.

The small podium was painted with the traditional one, two, and three, and the announcer, a cowboy with a real buckle bunny by his side, began to announce scores.

Third place was a valiant 75. The buckle bunny placed the medal around his neck, grinning widely.

Second place was a damn good 85. He clapped your back as he jogged off to take his prize.

“In first place, competitor 6, with a score of 90!”

You walked to the podium, stepping up above the number one, bowing slightly so the buckle bunny could slip the medal around your neck. As you waved to the crowd, you put on your most natural smile and scanned the crowd for Jack, but it was too late. You were leaving to go wait out the rest of the events you weren’t in, unable to spot your mystery man.

Alone in the stables, you stroked down Lilac’s nose, humming to yourself. Lilac was your rodeo girl, speedy as hell and perfect when paired with you. She nudged into your shoulder, and you didn’t know it was a warning until you heard a voice behind you.

“And so it seems I was fooled.”

You turned, seeing Jack leaning against a wall.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the rodeo?” You asked. “I mean, that’s got to be more interesting than talking to a fake bunny.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, but I ain’t here to talk to a fake bunny. I’m here for the real rodeo rider. That was impressive. How long have you been competing?”

“Since I was able to ride,” you admitted. “My dad used to put on fake competitions for me to practice in when I was six. Been doing rodeo events ever since.”

“Huh.” Jack drew closer. “Are you the bettin’ kind?”

Smirking, you took a step closer to him, so you were basically chest to chest. “That depends. What’re the stakes?”

“My phone number.”

You were definitely interested. “What must I do to obtain said number?”

Flicking the brim of your hat, Jack began to walk away, calling out over his shoulder, “Win the rest of your events.”

You snorted. Even without something as interesting as Jack’s prize on the line, you’d still probably win your events.

That didn’t stop you from being nervous. By the time they were calling the barrel racers out, you were a ball of anxiety. Lilac nudged into you, snorting as you stroked her nose.

You were set to go second out of the five competing, watching the competitor before you grab a decent score. Swinging up into Lilac’s saddle, you took a deep breath. Decent was good. Perfect was better.

The buzzer went off, and so did Lilac. Swinging immediately to the right barrel, you kept control, turning her in a hairpin turn, your knee just barely grazing the barrel. It remained upright, and you moved on. Lilac was going top speed, tightly turning the next barrel, you atop her, sure this time would break your personal best.

The third barrel was the final one, and it was perfection. You cued perfectly, Lilac turned perfectly, and then it was over.

“Competitor 2 with a time of 15.7 seconds!”

You laughed, adrenaline and joy coursing through you. Your personal best had been stubbornly stuck at 16.1 for months, but this had just shattered it.

In the end, you won the event, immediately moving on to the tie down. The last event.

You were first, Lilac nervously prancing behind the barrier as they brought out a calf. You’d been told all your life tie down events were cruel, and you agreed to a certain degree. But the way this rodeo did it, you were secure in the knowledge that the calf wasn’t getting hurt today. Not without severe consequences.

The countdown began, and you fiddled with your lasso. It was a familiar feeling, and you adjusted it just right, hearing the countdown reach zero. The calf took off, and two seconds after it, so did you.

Your first throw of the lasso was successful, grabbing the calf as you sprung off Lilac and felt her back up, giving you a tighter rope. You moved forward, grabbing the calf and flanking it in one swift movement. You took the end of the lasso and tied an expertly precise and incredibly fast three bone cross, securing the calf and hopefully, your win.

Your time was called. A 9.3. Not a personal best, but pretty damn close considering your best was an even 9 seconds.

The next few riders averaged around a 10, with someone nabbing a neat 9.5 that made your heart pound. And then, the final competitor.

Your blood chilled. Jack, atop a beautiful black horse, sat behind the barrier, adjusting his lasso. Leaning against the fence, you didn’t even blink as his calf raced out, and right behind the calf, him.

Suddenly, your original speculation of him being southern but not a cowboy was gone. He was picture perfect in that saddle, the lasso in his hands moving as if it were alive. He was good. Too good.

As he walked away from the calf, the announcer called his time, and your heart almost stopped.

He’d scored a 9.2.

He’d bested you by a tenth of a second.

Accepting your second place medal was hard. Standing next to Jack, you felt a bit bad for feeling so jealous. Jealousy wasn’t your color, so maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe you were just disappointed.

After the show, you packed up your three medals, two golds and a silver, and gave Lilac a pat as you handed her off to the stable hands. Leaving the stable, you looked around for Elle and Harmony, eager to get some funnel cake and play around with the horribly rigged games before the fireworks.

“Hello darlin’.”

The drawl made you turn. Jack grinned at you from the barn, and you walked over to him.

“Congrats,” you said, nodding to his gold medal. “That was impressive riding.”

“All part of the job,” Jack said, shrugging it off. “Anyway, I believe you earned your prize.”

You were shocked. “I didn’t, actually. I got silver. You won the last event.”

Jack smiled. “Ah, but two golds beats one, doesn’t it?”

He pulled out a pen, and you let him scrawl his number onto your hand. As he pocketed the pen, he tipped his hat to you and turned in the direction of a woman with short hair and a neat white button up who was apparently waiting for him. “By the way, green looks good on you!”

Jack walked away, making a ‘call me’ gesture as he disappeared into the crowd.

“What was that?” Elle yelled as he jumped on you from behind. “He was cute!”

Harmony was a bit nicer, squealing and grabbing your hand. “Jack Daniels,” she read. “Oh hell no, that is not his actual name!”

You yanked you hand back, smiling and taking a picture of the number, just in case. “I want funnel cake.”

Promptly ignoring all the questions for the rest of the night, you tried not to think about the number until you fell onto your bed, hat securely tossed onto your lamp.

Finally, you called the number.

“Jack Daniels, what can I do for you?”

“Jack?”

“Bunny!”

You sighed. “Do not call me that.”

Jack chuckled. “Struck a nerve?”

“Just a small one.” You rolled over, trying to think of what to say. “So, I’ve got another rodeo soon.”

“Oh?”

You nodded, despite it being pointless. “Yeah. I’m a judge, and I’m allowed to bring a date.”

Jack paused. “Bunny, are you asking me on a date?”

“Maybe.”

Another pause, and then Jack laughed. “Consider it done bunny. On one condition.”

You smiled. “You never call me bunny ever again?”

“Nah,” Jack said. “Wear somethin’ green.”

Feeling giddy, you eagerly nodded. “Consider it done Mr. Daniels.”

#kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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viisiond · 3 years

Text

-just dumps some info on my Hydro archon-

She’s disguised a judge within a courthouse in Fontaine, the head of it as you would say...

She takes joy in watching court hearings almost like a show- but give her a good sum of money and bribe her she’ll overrule your case just so she can watch judgement from afar.

Chaotic as HELL- human life to her is a play and she’s more than willing to throw her hat into the ring JUST to see how entertaining humans can be.

Has her own inner circle (those who rule the day (herself), those who rule twilight (???), and those who rule the night/criminal world (Zach))- they keep her updated and it keeps justice and balance to Fontaine.

She’s the type of person to gamble a person’s life if it meant she could judge their character. To INCLUDE who gets her visions...if they wish to master something she will judge and gamble at their life.

Hydro Bow

#Guest Muse: Hydro Archon;;#I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me;; {Headcanons}#ok gnight....FNGJKLDSFGDFSG #Atlas is yelling at me in DMs to go to bed</3

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Scheming (with Sandwiches) (5/3/2021)

Alastor talks to Valera @autokrates about her visit from Ruler Of Hell King Alastor @akillingspreeinwhite—and more importantly, what to do about him if he decides he wants to start conquering other Hells.

Alastor's plan: an alliance between as many potentially threatened dimensions as possible.

Alastor

Lunch time! Hello Valera guess who it is, it's Alastor. "I hope you don't mind, I thought it might be nice to have lunch together today! Sandwich?" The sandwich is an innocent gift of friendship with no ulterior motives! And also it's a bribe.

Valera

Lunch time! A great time, usually. A chance to gossip with coworkers AND eat. And look who's here, it's Alastor, with a very innocent sandwich! "Mind? Not at all, by all means my dear, it's a pleasure."

She does TRY to take a bite from the sandwich, but before she can even sink her teeth into it her whole face twists and she has to put it aside to flop her head down and groan. Don't mind her clutching her stomach, this is normal. "Eelizzy is *rioting* back home, oh my *gods*. Feels like I swallowed a radio full of hornets."

Alastor

"Oh, don't you hate that? When you're trying to pick up a station on the radio and there's so much interference all you hear is *buzzing*?" He's proud of himself for that joke. He shouldn't be. "Try this, see if it calms her down any." He sends over a song. <https://youtu.be/2t4iBbfwBLw>

Valera

She'd glare at him for that joke, but she's too busy making her poor floppy at-home body cooperate long enough to open a link. "Louisiana Lullaby? Well by name alone it promises results. She loved New Orleans."

A minute passes, and she slowly sits upright. The sandwich is cautiously picked up, and she nibbles at the crust as she raises both eyebrows at Alastor. She can guess what he really wants to know. "Incredible, even from a distance you're better at wrangling a kid than your more... *royal* alternate." That's an opening if she's ever given one, here you go Alastor.

Alastor

His smile widens. The exact topic he wanted to talk about! "I take it his visit was rather... stomach-turning?"

Valera

She glances around, making sure they're far enough away from any coworkers, then leans in with gossiping intent. "Putting it *mildly*. He's very tall, he's very self assured, and he's got the worst vibes I've ever felt roll off of a man. Like dunking my face in used cooking oil. And get this. The second he stepped into my house, Eelizzy started thrashing like a harpooned whale. She's never reacted so violently to *anything*."

Alastor

A slow nod. "That's never a good sign. I trust the judgment of the as yet unborn, they tend to be less prejudiced. And I take it you don't think it was a mere reaction to his power level?"

Valera

Her head cocks to the right, nose scrunching in thought. "He gave me one of Lucifer's flight feathers, so I assume she felt some of that power too. But I put the thing away and she still spent the entire visit either flailing or spitting static at him every time he got too close."

The hand not holding the sandwich brushes her barbels back, rubbing her forehead. "I suppose it's possible that his energy was simply so foreign she reacted strongly, but I live with *Leal*. She's been around for everything from eldritch magic to his full demonic form and barely even stirred. When she met Alexa? Happily buzzing at him barely a minute in. You saw how well she took to you, too. She's met dragons, gods, demons, sinners, and not a single one had her that pissed. Even Seapup was growling at him and Seapup loves *everyone*."

Alastor

"If she doesn't even react to *gods* like that, I'm going to assume it's the quality rather than the quantity." He sighs. "Well, *that's* telling, isn't it! I'm not sure *what* it's telling us yet—but I don't think I'm going to like the answer, do you?"

Valera

She snorts. "No. No I do *not*. He got to my planet unaided, Alastor. Got into my house without me giving any sort of direction. He knew the planet's name before I ever told him. And I want to chalk that up to just him reading my blog, but... I know he's followed me and Leal around without either of us being able to sense him."

Alastor

Alastor nods. "He mentioned that to me too, your 'being followed' adventure. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if the king's done it more than once. Or, considering how strong he has to be to have seized the throne, he might have additional methods of sussing out information. All of which are probably bad news."

Valera

This poor sandwich is never going to get eaten at this rate, there she goes putting it down again. "No kidding. He's been the pinnacle of manners and social grace for now, but.." A shrug, and she offers Alastor a wan smile. "I don't trust that to last. He's an outlier to the already unpredictable Alastor model."

Alastor

"No, I don't trust it either." His voice lowers—not his usual trick of changing his tone of voice to pretend he's being quieter, but an actual lowering of volume. "Here's the thing. I don't trust a single one of my alternates that's joined in the overlord rat race—much less has made king. A propensity toward boredom like mine should *never* be married to earnest political ambitions. When he gets bored, he's going to do what he's always done: conquer. And if there's no more room for him to move *upward,* he'll start moving *outward.* And wouldn't you know it, he's *just* found the multiverse."

Valera

"Exactly." She exhales almost too forcefully for it to be a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. What a headache this was turning out to be. "I *really* don't want to test my mettle against even a normal Alastor alt, the idea of *that* man being able to show up in my house on a whim and start trying to play at the All American Dream of Conquering the Alien Menace is... Not good." An absent minded rubbing of her stomach, self soothing and comforting an egg that was universes away. "I'm not ashamed to admit that I am, on some level, absolutely terrified."

Alastor

"You're not alone," Alastor admits. "Not to downplay your very realistic 'heroic human conquering the savage alien world' fears, but if human history has proven anything, it's that we tend to try conquering our neighbors first and only travel farther after we either succeed or decide it's more trouble than it's worth. And neighbors don't get much closer than a parallel copy of the same place."

Valera

"Oh dear." Grimacing, she lifts a hand like she's about to offer comfort, letting it hover for a moment before slowly putting it back down. No, don't do for the shoulder pat just yet. "I don't like that one bit, Alastor. But for what it's worth, if it came down to it, I'd try to help you."

Alastor

"That is *exactly* what I wanted to discuss." Alastor's eyes glow brighter. "Now, any version of me that's conquered Hell is going to be stronger than any version of me that hasn't, that's practically a given. He could beat any *one* of us hands down. I haven't seen *you* at full power, but frankly that's a boxing match I wouldn't want to bet money on for either side. But—*but*—if enough of us have agreed we'll fight him if he stepped out of line... The more of us agree to fight in defense of each other's dimensions, the better a chance we'll collectively stand. Leclerq and I have already agreed to offer each other mutual support. With three of us, we might have the start of a proper defense."

Valera

She folds her hands, listening as Alastor lays out his plan. Strength in numbers, it was an effective strategy. She could think of a few others who would gladly throw their hats in the ring in the name of keeping the line as well, Alastor or otherwise. "Alright. I'll add myself to that list, and pray we never need it."

Alastor

He laughs wryly. "And I'll be praying for backup in case we *do* need it. Apparently upstairs doesn't care about who's calling the shots in Hell, if they didn't intervene before my alternate could take the crown; but maybe they'll start to care if multiple Hells start uniting in one empire."

Valera

She snorts despite herself, shaking her head. "I hope so! Wouldn't that be something, heaven and hell uniting forces against one common enemy! I just hope we never have to see it."

Alastor

"So do I." He takes a deep breath. "So! Anything else of interest to report from his little visit? You mentioned *you* didn't like his... 'vibes'?"

Valera

"Oh! Yeah. Holy shit." A WELCOME subject change. "He's freaky. And I don't like that I know even one of his kinks. I want to know zero of them." She shrugs and picks her sandwich back up. At last, something she can eat while discussing. "As far as his visit though. He gave me one of Lucifer's flight feathers. Which I _immediately_ handed off to mon cerf."

Alastor

"He certainly has poor taste in kinks." He says this like his ace ass is some sort of elitist kink connoisseur. Like a wine snob judging a broke-ass college kid for drinking box wine. "But is that the *only* sense you meant he's freaky in, or...? Granted, handing an acquaintance a souvenir harvested from the body of one's vanquished nemesis is a hell of an opening statement all by itself, but."

Valera

"I wish." Look at that face scrunch. It won't keep her from taking a bite out of her sandwich, but still. "No, I mean his very presence was like trying to breathe oil. He's.." She frowns, brow furrowing as she tries to think of a less melodramatic way to put it. "He's nice, but in the way people are nice to a pet."

Alastor

A huff. "I got a little bit of that impression from talking to him. Granted, Radio Demons are a naturally condescending lot, but even at that..." He searches for the right words. "He strikes me as the kind of person incapable of seeing anyone as his equal. Even his own alternates."

Valera

She nods. "Yes, I think you're right. We're entertainment more than we are people. Perhaps _especially_ his alternates, come to think of it.." Judging by the way he'd treated his alts on dash..

Alastor

"Could be worse—could be outright loathing—but I'm wary around any alternate who can't even see *himself* as a kindred spirit. I'm hoping I can take advantage of it, though. I've got an open invitation to visit his dimension sometime to provide entertainment—a few Hamilton songs from me in exchange for a tour. I plan on scouting the place out then."

Valera

"Oh yeah! You do, don't you! You should try and see what happened to the other overlords in his Hell. Assuming he didn't kill them as soon as they manifested, I've wondered whats become of them."

Alastor

"So have I. I have to think overlords still exist—what does it matter to a king if the peasants claim ownership of a block or two?—but whether any of them are the same overlords *we* know..." He grimaces. "He said he took power in the fifties, didn't he? If we're assuming a worst case scenario where he executed all the overlords who currently existed, that includes Sir Pentious and Rosie. Maybe Rosie was minor enough to be spared, if anyone was spared at all; but someone else with ambitions for the throne..."

Valera

She scowls, shoving the rest of the sandwich in her mouth to keep from saying anything before she can think it over. He was right, and the thought was.. Deeply uncomfortable. A hard swallow, and she starts brushing the crumbs off her chest. "We're set to have lunch together tomorrow, *out* of my house." She doesn't sound especially *happy* about the arrangement, but oh well. "If I learn anything new, I'll let you know. Between the two of us, we should hopefully be able to get a feel for what situation we're dealing with. Odds are his Pentious was exterminated."

A blink, and she squints. "Actually, he said something to Theodore today. His Hell has had some *significant* technological advancements since he took the throne, he was very proud of that fact. All radio based, obviously, but he doesn't strike me as an inventor."

Alastor

"*Our* Hell's had significant technological advancements since the fifties, too," Alastor pointed out. "He could be collecting newly-dead inventors and pressing them to turn their expertise toward radio-based applications. Or, hell—it could simply be that having V#x out of the way means the technological developments in Hell naturally drifted a different way."

He gives Valera a tired, wan smile. "I'd *like* to imagine that Sir Pentious is happily toiling away as the royal inventor, but I don't want to get my hopes up. I don't think the majority would be happy with that."

Valera

"Mm, I'm being too optimistic. And he would hate it, so maybe it's for the better that he's probably been exterminated." She sighs. "I don't know if we manage to find trouble, Alastor, or trouble manages to find us. Either way, what a pain. Any other questions before we drag ourselves back to the dreadful chore of watching Hamilton get shot on stage over and over?"

Alastor

"Just one." He nods toward the stage. "Do you think it's been long enough since the last time I got in trouble that I can start singing 'he's never gon' be president now' when the bullet connects?"

Valera

Now that is a very serious question that must be considered.... Hrm... "Yes, but barely. I think the director would throw his clipboard at you, but not much beyond that. He's on his sixth coffee of the day, so the odds of dodging are in your favor."

Alastor

"Maybe he'll forgive me out of pity if I let it connect." He stands, picks up his own sandwich—yeah, he's had a sandwich this whole time—and devours it in five huge bites. "Shall we?"

Valera

For some reason, she's tempted to clap at that display. But no time for more banter, it's back to work. "We shall."

Alastor

Back to work. Time to watch Hamilton get shot again.

Valera

~~Boooooo give us a twist ending next time, add some leopards eating people's faces~~

Alastor

~~Hamilton is the leopard and he tries to eat Alastor's face for singing in the middle of his dramatic death~~

#autokrates #chat log #akillingspreeinwhite

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restmyheadatnightcontent · 3 years

Text

you are the sunshine of my life

enjoy the disaster family having some fun in the snow! another scene set in the same verse as love and life are the same and can also be found on AO3 here!

___

She’s awoken by a muffled conversation from the other side of the door and before she can wonder what is going on the door is being opened and she squints to see Jaskier opening the door and Ciri standing next to him holding a tray holding plates of, judging by the smell, freshly made pancakes.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, pushing herself up so she’s resting against the headboard “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You’ve been working hard this week and thought you deserved a treat.” Jaskier says as he takes the tray from Ciri’s hands and settles in on Yens lap.

Ciri climbs in next to her and snuggles into her side and begins to tell Yen all about the dream she had last night whilst tucking into her own pancakes. Yen glances at Jaskier sitting on the bed across from them, gasping and laughing at all the right moments during the story, no doubt already having heard it in the kitchen beforehand. He’s got some syrup on his cheek already because he seems incapable of eating anything like a normal adult. She stops herself from reaching out and wiping it away.

Ciri finishes her story and then demands to know if either she or Jaskier had an interesting dream, and before she can reply, he is off describing his incredibly weird dream involving him performing at a concert but the band was just made up of sea creatures.

(“We were underwater but, like we weren’t? I was the lead singer, obviously,and the octopus on the drums had a really good voice and- do you think I could teach a crab to play bass? Because she was really talented and I really don’t think it would be that hard.”)

Once he’s finished, Ciri is leaping out of bed and insisting they get up too as “We need to go and get ready!”

“Ready for what exactly?” Yen asks.

“Your mum hasn’t seen it yet, Ciri. She was being too lazy,” Jaskier says before yelping as Yen pokes his stomach with his foot.

“The snow!” Ciri says excitedly as she pulls the curtain open to reveal the world outside, which overnight seems to have been transformed into a white wonderland. It’s not the most snow they’ve ever had, but there is a lot. Looking at the street below, it is a few inches deep and has even settled onto the road which is rare.

“I don’t suppose the pancakes had anything to do with the snow? Perhaps a bribe so that I’d let you forget about your homework so you could go and play outside?”

Ciri just smiles sheepishly up her before asking “Can we go outside and play in the snow please?”

“I suppose so,” Yen smiles as small arms wrap around her middle “Go and get dressed then. Layers please, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

---

“Come on,” Ciri tugs at the sleeve of her jumper, “We need to go before all the good snow goes!”

“I’m not the one holding us up,” Yen argues, gesturing with her coffee to the real reason they are not yet outside, as Jaskier runs down the stairs tying his scarf around his neck. He’d spent at least 20 minutes trying to decide which scarf and hat combination to wear.

“I preferred the first one,” she says drily and he sticks his tongue out at her as he picks up the bag and then they’re out of the house.

They walk to the local park and she sits herself down on a bench so that she can finish her coffee. Ciri is about to run off, having just spotted her friend Dara on the other side of the park, but Yen holds her back, pulling her hat down snugly over her ears before letting her go.

Jaskier stands next to her, shuffling on his feet, glancing between Yen and the children playing and it’s painfully obvious he wants to go and join them. He’s like an excitable puppy and she pushes at him gentlty, “Go on. You’re just as bad as Ciri, honestly.” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, before he’s running over to join them.

She never had this. She never was the child running happy and carefree, instead spending her younger years trapped inside, the girl with the wonky fringe and crooked spine who no-one wanted to play with. That was until she went to live with Tissaia, and her spine was no longer crooked but she paid the price with scars, some from surgery and some not, and with a choice taken away from ger. After that, people weren’t playing anymore, they wanted something else from her. She’s spent her whole life fighting to get what she wants.

She’s distracted from her thoughts by a particularly loud laugh from Ciri who seems to have tackled Jaskier with Daras help down into the snow and shoved a handful of snow down the back of his coat, causing him to shriek in an octave that she wasn’t sure he could reach. He retaliates by wrapping his arms around them and dragging them down until they are both covered in snow too.

He looks up and catches Yennefer’s eye and his smile widens. He whispers something to Ciri and then gets up and begins making his way over to her. He looks good like this, she has to admit. Snowflakes clinging to his hair, messy and ruffled from his hat, which has disappeared during the ambush; his blue eyes bright and shining; and his cheeks rosy with the cold.

“Alright?” he asks, his breath billowing out forming a cloud as he sits down next to her on the bench.

She hums and takes a sip from her coffee, before raising her eyebrow and saying “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m not the one that just lost a snowball fight to twos 10 year olds.”

“I’d like to see you try and beat them! Ciri is absolutely is ruthless with deadly aim” before smirking and adding “Wonder where she gets that from.”

Yennefer just slaps his arm and then holds out her mug to him. She hates drinking the dregs of her coffee and feeling the grounds in her mouth, but Jaskier will happily drink them and proclaims that they are the best bit, because he is a menace to society. He slurps them down quickly, before placing her cup in the bag and wrapping his arms around her and then suddenly she’s being lifted up.

She definitely does not let out an undignified squawk as he heaves her up over his shoulder.

“Idiot, what are you doing? Put me down right now!” she barks, smacking her hands against his back.

“No can do, I’m afraid dear. I’m under strict instructions from your daughter that you have to come and join the fun,” he answers, bending slightly to pick up the bag and then walking over towards Ciri.

She struggles for a while longer before accepting her fate, and then she is being gently placed down next to Ciri. He knows better than to drop her into the snow, as then she would not have been responsible for her actions.

“Come on Mum, we have to make snow angels! Look at how perfect the snow is!” Ciri says excitedly before throwing herself backwards into the snow and moving her arms and legs.

And when faced with her daughters pleading eyes and wide smile, she really has no choice but to fall backwards and join her. She closes her eyes and lets the childlike joy take over her as she begins to move her own arms.

Her mind wanders back to her life and how hard she fought to get to where she is now and the price she paid and decides, with Ciri’s laughter ringing in her ears, that it was all worth it.

#the witcher #the witcher fic #yennskier #yennskier fic #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #ciri #yennefer & ciri #my fic #my writing #made of love verse

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hollypastl · 3 years

Text

the disappearance of [REDACTED] ch.1

miya atsumu/reader

Summary: "MISSING: MIYA Y/N" It reads. Underneath is a picture of yourself. Age, height, weight. Everything important is listed. How embarrassing.

Genre: angst/mystery

Warnings: missing persons, time skip spoilers

Notes: crossposted on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726002/chapters/70432233

chapter one: love is so short. forgetting is so long

He wakes up painfully aware that your weight is missing from his arms. It’s a little unusual. Most mornings, you two end up dragging each other out of bed. He’s not a morning person and you’re more than content to occupy him with your entire body weight. The flutter of your breath on his face and the gentle, but firm way you play with his fingers is soothing. Eventually, responsible thought wins out and one of you will bribe the other with a hot shower or an omelette. Usually.

But not today. His feet land on the floor after a good horizontal stretch and Atsumu yawns. He squints at the clock. 10:24 AM. “Hey, babe? Didja screw with my phone?” He calls, getting up from bed and heading towards the kitchen.

There’s a muffin and a bottle of iced coffee sitting on the kitchen counter, which he hungrily digs into. A part of him is resigned and ready to get caught red handed, scarfing down something which you were saving , but the second the banana flavor hits his tongue he knows it’s intended for him. Your distaste for the flavor is something even ‘Samu hasn’t been able to sway.

His eyes wander around the messy apartment you two share while he lazily munches away on his muffin and throws back the drink. Even through the mess, his gaze lands on a neatly folded slip of paper that’s stuck to the fridge with a Hello Kitty magnet. (And as much as he insisted to everyone ever invited over that it was yours, you both knew it was his. A leftover remnant of his childhood collection of random festival prizes.)

It’s a reach from his seat at the counter to the fridge, but he makes it without standing up or tipping over his chair. The coffee still slips from his grip and shatters on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

The safety hazard is ignored as he forces himself to reread it slower.

You’ve signed your name at the bottom, but the ink is blurred. It’s just a single drop, and he’s always known you to shed tears at the drop of a hat. He wonders what could’ve restrained you to not have wet stains all over the page.

It’s a joke.

It has to be.

The wedding ring on his finger suddenly feels tighter, like his blood flow is being constricted.

Your phone number is his first call.

He doesn’t know what he expects, but the vibrations of your phone on the table by the front door isn’t it. Whatever. Move on. He calls your parents house, but they haven’t heard from you. And you’re not at work either. In fact, when the boss gets on the phone, he explains he got a text early this morning that you quit out of the blue.

A myriadic list of other people to question is filling up in his head but he can’t quite bring himself to call.

The Jackal’s manager is buzzing him next. It’s rude, but he sends him straight to voicemail. Who cares that he’s late to practice?

He’s much too busy wondering where you’ve disappeared to.

Which is how he ends up nervously twiddling his thumbs in a police precinct.

The officer is rude. Actually, he’s not. He just thinks the guy is being a jackass because he’s not being particularly helpful.

“We’ll be happy to search for signs she was taken against her will, but judging by the note she left and that you found no signs of a break-in, it sounds like she left of her own volition.” And the absolute gut punch of, “Miya-san… Are you sure she didn’t run off with another man?”

He can’t wrap his head around it. The detective recognizing him barely makes him feel better. “Miya… MiyA-SENSHU? We’ll have our best investigators on this, I promise you! Can I get you a cup of coffee? Did you walk here? Someone will drive you home.”

He watches absently as the officer who drove him back pokes around the apartment. Pictures are snapped and locks are inspected. Your hairbrush is bagged as DNA evidence and Atsumu silently notices your sneakers and his favorite hoodie gone from the closet.

It doesn’t seem real. You should be on your lunch break right now, sending him a text or even calling to ask if he wants to go visit his parents next week.

When the man finally leaves, Atsumu’s pocket starts buzzing once again.

His breath catches when it turns out to be your phone and not his. The number isn’t listed and he stops breathing entirely at that. A desperate part of him hopes you’re on the other end of the line as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“This is Kitano Medical Imaging Center, I have information regarding scans for Miya Y/N.”

“She’s-” He chokes from the lack of air. Isn’t breathing supposed to be something he doesn’t have to think about anymore? “She’s not available at the moment. M’her husband though, I can pass it along.”

They’re silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I’m unable to release medical information to anyone but the patient at this time. Thank you and good day, sir.”

He chews on his bottom lip at that. The hell did that mean? What name had they given? Kitano? Osaka General was closer.

And what about these scans you had gotten done?

Knocking at his door busts him out of his head. What was it now? He considers ignoring it but, “C’mon, open up ‘Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto isn’t one to be easily discouraged.

But the shattered glass still lying on his kitchen floor steals his attention and mutes the shouting, if only slightly. Bokuto will have questions that Atsumu doesn’t care to or just doesn’t have the answers to. Instead, he lets his teammate tire himself out while he sits at the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the hazard he has yet to clean up.

He shows up to training half an hour early the next morning, getting a headstart on lat pull-downs before anyone else has even arrived. The team trickles in slowly and it would be a lie to say he didn’t notice the little glances they keep giving him. Everyone is on edge and the scowl marring his face probably doesn’t help the mood.

“Whaddya’ mean it’s written all over m’face?” He frowned, shouldering his bag.

“Atsumu.” Even though your back was to him, he could tell you were rolling your eyes as you locked up the gym. “You’re chronically easy to read.”

“Am not!”

You rested a hand on your hip, narrowing your eyes. “C’mon, I think it’s cute how you wear your heart on your sleeve,” The door clicked shut and you swung around, keys and lanyard in hand. “If you want, I’ll let you in on the secret of how I mastered my poker face.” You offered, elbowing him.

“Hah! Yeah, right! Last week ya cried when Kita-senpai said ya weren’t good at cleanin’ water bottles.”

It was true, you had burst into tears. “Please. Fake crying is a much more advanced skill. I’m talkin’ about a good ‘ole blank and neutral expression—”

“Wait, ya mean ya did that on purpose?” He threw an incredulous look your way.

You rolled your eyes once more. He was so naive. “Senpai did end up washing the whole crate for me, didn’t he?”

Atsumu stared at you, jaw slack.

“Atsumu?” You waved a hand in front of your face.

“Atsumu, you good?”

“Huh?”

“I asked why you went AWOL yesterday.” Meian’s brow furrowed and Atsumu forced out an answer he had decided hours ago.

“Just a family issue, sorry I didn’t get the chance to call, man.”

He could almost hear your voice now, congratulating him on keeping cool. He feels sick. Like a kid who’s eaten too much for their lil’ stomach to handle and is about to vomit all over the floor. That exact thing had happened to ‘Samu once. It was someone’s birthday in their middle school class —he couldn’t remember who— and the idiot had eaten five pieces of cake while nobody was looking.

It wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. The glutton wouldn’t dare waste food by throwing it up. The problem came when he washed it all down with spiked punch.

The class had gotten in so much trouble for that.

Nobody had seen it happen and the culprit wouldn’t come forward. The entire class was forced to endure cleaning duty for a month and they were banned from participating in the sports festival. He had been so pissed.

Now it’s just a bad memory in the bad of his mind. Thoughts absentmindedly trailing back to you, (like they always seem to) he wonders where you had been during that incident. You hadn’t been friends with him yet. He didn’t even know your first name at that point. But you had been in his class. He distinctly remembers arbitrarily voting you for class rep because you were pretty.

And, now that he really thinks about it, he remembers seeing your arm slowly rise.

“It was me. I did it. It was a really bad joke and I’m sorry.”

He’d been sitting a couple rows behind you, so he couldn’t see the look on your face, but he knew it must’ve been painted with shame.

Nobody believed you. Without missing a beat, the assistant principal had kindly told you it was noble to try and take the fall. Your friend had tugged on the edge of your skirt, beckoning for you to sit down. Just like that, it was over. He’s surprised he can recall it. The whole thing, start to finish, must’ve been less than fifteen seconds. He doubts anyone else remembers but you.

He considers your words from back then. How you had said it was just a bad joke.

His immature ass, having stomach pains from laughing so hard, would beg to differ. Your jokes never fall flat.

He finishes his set and moves to the leg press.

Desperately, he needs to believe the past twenty four hours have been a joke. That you just left to visit a friend, or needed some space. But the items on the list keep adding up.

His eyes start tearing up and he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu #Miya Atsumu #i need a beta so bad

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huntertales · 4 years

Text

Part Three: You Are What You Eat. (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths–a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Mentions of blood. Word Count: 4,647.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“So, what can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?”

You had to be honest, at the beginning of this plan you were excited for the chance to go around each kennel so Dean could personally speak to the dogs and get a potential eyewitness of what happened the previous night. Your enthusiasm slowly trickled away when you realized how this was turning out to be a complete waste of time. All though you could only hear one side of the conversation, the homeless pups were turning out to be less helpful than the Colonel had been for you. You watched from the other side of the shelter as Dean questioned another dog that looked almost to be the exact same breed as the famous Lassie. However she wasn’t capable of much of anything due to her fleeting eyesight due to her old age. Dean listened anyway.

“Honestly, I couldn’t see much. Damn cataracts. And you know no one is going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess.” The dog followed up her story with a complaint about how her final days would be spent in a cage. Dean offered a sympathetic smile from the lonely end she was most likely going to face. Almost no one adopts older dogs. The man felt it was time to cut the conversation short when she tried to guilt him into taking her home. “I don’t belong here, you know. I’m Pedigreed.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be out of here soon.” Dean tried to offer some hopeful words to the dog that better days were ahead for her. She shot him down when she told him her age of fourteen. In human years she was in her seventies. She didn’t have much time left on this Earth. He winced at the awkward situation he put himself in. “Good luck…ma’am.”

Dean shut the cage and placed the latch back down so she couldn’t try and escape. As he passed by a labrador, he overheard the rough conditions they were living in. “One a day they clean these cages. Once a day!”

“A biscuit. Just one biscuit.”

“I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer.”

“I’m shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence.”

Dean wasn't sure what to expect when he took the spell that would make him be able to communicate with the Colonel. He didn't think it was going to lead him into being able to speak to every single animal that would end up in him getting mocked by a pigeon and hearing the complaints from the dogs living in the shelter. He let out a quiet sigh from how overwhelming it was to hear all their voices ringing in his head for different reasons that all varied out to the same reason. They wanted to get his attention for a chance at going home with him. You gave him a curious expression as he approached you and Sam after trying to speak to another dog.

“Any luck?” Sam asked his brother, hopeful for some kind of breakthrough.

“Hardly.” Dean admitted. “And I’m not just getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints.”

“Hey, pretty boy.” The older Winchester might have spoken too soon when he heard another voice pop up into his head, making him look over his shoulder to see who was speaking to him. A small yorkie jumped on his hind legs and leaned himself against the fence to try and get the hunter’s attention. “Over here.”

“Yeah, sorry, pal.” Dean said, shrugging off the dog for whatever excuse he was about to try and throw his way to get him over there and chat his ear off. The man thought he already knew what was going to happen if he wasted more time on yet another dog. “I’m done for the day.”

“But I saw everything!” The dog shouted, saying exactly what the hunter wanted to hear. It was enough for Dean to make his way over the kennel. You and Sam followed behind, figuring this was the lead all of you had been looking for. “And I’ll tell you, but…it’ll cost you.”

“What? Are you kidding me? I’m being extorted by a dog.” The older Winchester scoffed at the sudden shift of the conversation. No one else had given him much help. This was the only major lead you had going for you. Dean rolled his eyes and unwillingly gave in to listening to whatever the dog might try and bribe out of him. “Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin’ Strips? Snausages?”

“Bitch, please. If I’m gonna rat someone out, it’s got to be worth my while. I want…a belly rub.” The dog gave his final demands to make him speak. Dean once again rolled his eyes at the presumption that it was going to be him who was going to be forced to do the deed. However the yorkie wouldn’t let just anyone come near him. “Not you, sweetie. The short one.”

“The...Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath when he turned his direction to the short person he was talking about. You were standing next to him, wondering what was making him grow annoyed now. “He wants a belly rub. From you.” Dean informed you of the pooch’s request. You felt your lips stretch into a happy smile. As if this hunt couldn’t get any better. “Get to it. You’re like some kind of dog whisperer.”

You pushed up the latch to the cage and opened up the metal door to greet the yorkie with a big smile at how happy he was from the way his tail was wagging. “Hi there, cutie. You wanna belly rub, huh? Come here.”

The dog wanted his end of the bargain before giving any sort of information about that night to Dean. You started off enjoying giving the pooch what he wanted. He was cradled in your arms like a baby as you scratched his stomach like he requested. His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth as he panted in enjoyment from the rare affection he was being given after spending most hours locked in the small confidments. The human side of Dean was growing annoyed at how much this mutt was trying to milk this bribe for his own benefit. And the canine side of him was growing territorial at how much you were giving someone else affection.

“Ohh, a cowboy hat, leather pants.” The dog managed to give a basic description of the man of what he was wearing on the night of the murder, occasionally breaking his concentration from the bellyrub long enough to do so. “The dude's a total closet case.”

“Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?” Dean pressed for more, knowing that it was useless to the three of you.

“What does he want with the cats?” Dean asked.

“Ooh, attagirl, yes.” The dog was once again delayed on responding to the question, too caught up in the euphoric feeling. “Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate.”

“Ew.” Dean mumbled to himself from the twist he wasn’t expecting to come from the story. You momentarily stopped scratching the dog to hear what made the man reaction that way. It was for a reason you never would have guessed "Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats."

You felt your lips stretching into a childlike smile from the information, feeling the need to crack a joke. “So you’re saying he likes to eat p—”

"Keep scratching." Dean told you, cutting you off from making a distasteful joke.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it." The yorkie added, giving some information that might help make it easier to track down the man.

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked. The dog decided at that moment to go silent. He went limp in your arms as he let out a yawn, acting as if it was Dean who was wasting his time. "Hey, come on. We had a deal."

“Well, you tell that to your friend.” The dog said “She’s the one who stopped rubbing.”

You rolled your eyes when Dean tossed you a look to keep going with the deal he made with the dog. You could only do this for so long before you complained of a hand cramp. Not to mention he was starting to make your arm grow numb for holding him in the same position for a long period of time. Dean didn’t seem to care for your complaints.

“He’s not talking.” The older Winchester said.

“I’m sorry, do you want to do it?” You asked him, nodding your head to the needy dog.

“You’re the one who volunteered.” Dean reminded you. “Very happily.”

You let out a quiet sigh and continued on with your end of the deal. The dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth in happiness.“Attagirl. It said ‘Avant-Garde Cuisine.’” He continued on. “Lucky for you, I read French.”

“That's a café on Main Street.” The Colonel said, jumping into the conversation to lend a helping paw. “No dogs allowed.”

“Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap.” Dean mumbled, seeming to be still talking amongst the dogs. You raised your brow slightly, wondering if he found a possible lead afterall. “We got to go downtown. Apparently our guy works at a restaurant.”

Dean nodded his head to put the yorkie back into his cage after getting the information you needed from him. “No, no, wait, wait, wait. Sure you don't want to adopt me?”

“No, thanks.” The older man shot down the offer with a smile. “We'll pass.”

You bent down to grab the Colonel’s lesh with your good hand as you tried to stop the cramping in the other. While the little yorkie was a pain, you had to admit it was sort of fun spending some time with the pooch. Even if he was a pain.

“It’s kind of sad, don’t you think?” You wondered out loud, looking around at the kennels filled with dogs you would have loved to adopt. Sadly not all of them might get a chance. “All these poor things might never get a proper home. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life in a cage.”

Dean found himself reflecting on what you said for a moment. He didn’t like dogs. Hell, he wasn’t the one for pets. But being able to hear their thoughts and struggles they faced, spending some time walking in their point of view, gave him a better perspective. Every creature, human or animal, deserved a loving home. He felt his lips stretch into a smile from what he was about to do. He knew it would make you happy. Maybe this spell wasn’t such a curse after all.

You and Sam were left baffled at what the man was doing when he went to every kennel and opened up the cage doors to let the dogs free. A scurry of four legged animals went running past you and straight out the door. You might not have been able to hear the excitement of their freedom, but you could tell from how they raced out of here. Dean was pleased with himself at the little act of kindness.

“I didn't peg you for a softy.” The Colonel said.

Dean merely shrugged his shoulders as his response for the German Shepherd. There were a lot of things that were out of character for him today. He spent his entire life saving humans. It felt like a good change of pace to lend a helping hand to man's best friend for a change.

+ + +

It wasn't too hard for you and the boys to track down the restaurant of the crazy lunatic who murdered two people and catnapped all of the shelter's felines for reasons you still weren't sure of. Sam was the one who picked the lock of the back door and headed inside first, you and Dean following after. You wondered the reason why the place was closed when you were still in the early evening, it should have been booming with business. A closed sign wasn’t going to stop you and the boys from breaking into the place and taking a look around for yourself. It was going to be easier knowing there would be no lingering eyes to disrupt you.

"I'm sorry. Who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean wondered out loud.

“Homicidal maniac?” You guessed.

Sam brought your attention over to a door that was marked private. after passing a few unmarked ones. All of you stepped inside and began taking a look around through the scope of the small flashlight you pulled out. You noticed it must’ve been extra storage for the restaurant from the walk-in freezer you spotted across the room and shelves filled with different canned goods and spices and doubled as an office space for the staff. The younger Winchester approached a desk that was near the door and spotted a framed photograph of a man that was dressed in a chef's uniform with a cowboy hat as an accessory. He smiled for the camera while sharpening a knife. It was oddy suspicious at first glance, but it didn't exactly scream psycho killer to you.

"Check this out." Sam said. He pulled your attention away from exploring more of the room and to the picture he found. You furrowed your brow slightly at the potential suspect you might have. "Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

Dean shrugged at the coincidence, "It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats."

Sam decided to stick around the desk when he pulled up a chair and began rifling through some papers and drawers to see if he might be able to find anything suspicious about this Chef Leo. Dean continued on walking through the place as you stuck around to help Sam to cut down the process faster. You flipped through a folder full of important documents for the restaurant that ended up being meaningless to you and dropped them back down where you found them. You pulled out one of the drawers out of curiosity and stumbled upon a little pharmacy Chef Leo had kept for himself.

“Whoa.” You mumbled to yourself. You counted at least eight prescription bottles in the drawer that were all for him. You bent down slightly to get a better look at the drugs to see what he was taking. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone. Jeez. Guess he likes to cook perfectly numb.”

"Help us."

"Please, mister."

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks when he heard the sound of high-pitched voices coming out of nowhere. He looked around to see where they might have come from, but the only people around were still you and Sam, who were busy looking deeper into Chef Leo's desk. He kept on trying to find the source of the voices when they talked to him again, trying to get him to find them.

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked, curious if he was the only one. You glanced up and gave the man a confused look as to what he was talking about. You shook your head before continuing on your search. “Sounded like little kids.”

"Help!" The voice called out again, close enough for Dean to stop again and point his flashlight at a table that was holding something that was hidden behind an apron. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us."

“She’s not lying.”

“We’re in a cage!”

Dean managed to find the source of the distressed voices when he pulled off the apron and saw a small cage big enough to be holding a few mice that were unhappily crawling around in their mental confidements. He bent down slightly so he was at somewhat eye level with the rodents so he could speak to them properly. "Eat you?"

One of the rats told him to look in the refrigerator behind him to discover what else the chef was hiding. He did as he was told, making Dean stumble upon several tupperware containers stacked on top of one another with labels of unusual ingredients he had a feeling weren't on the menu. You wandered over in curiosity to discover what Dean had found while Sam found something suspicious on his own. You glanced inside the see through door to see the chef was stocked on animal organs of all kinds.

"'Owl brains.' 'Cheetah liver.' 'Grizzly heart.'" Dean listed off just a few of the strange organs that made you grimace as the possible reason why the chef needed these ingredients. And how he managed to acquire such an array of organs for such a diverse palate.

"Ah, a spell book." Sam said. He figured out what kind of book he had been reading through, and why the chef has so many organs on hand. "Shamanism."

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" You asked.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoo doo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal." Sam read off some information from the book to help explain what was going on here. Your nose wrinkled slightly as you looked back over at the fridge. The thought of ingesting any of those organs made you feel slightly queasy. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains..."

“Your head spins around like ‘The Exorcist’?” Dean wondered, deciding to take a wild guess.

"Close. Bolsters your IQ.” Sam said. He turned his attention back over to the book and began to read through the effects of the organs you and his brother discovered. “Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength.”

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—”

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter." Sam said, finishing his brother's thought.

"Well, no offense," Dean turned his gaze back over to the cage with the mice. They were bottom of the food chain compared to the other animals Chef Leo had on stock. "But why would he want to eat you guys?"

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." The rodent said.

"Look at this." Sam said. He found several index cards with what appeared to be some kind of recipe with the organs the chef harvested. You grabbed a few from the pile to flip through them yourself. "'Lion liver plus eagle heart.' 'Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder.' 'Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen.' He's mixing ingredients."

“What the hell for?”

Dean’s question went unanswered when the focus in the room went straight for the closed door after hearing what sounded to be metal crashing to the ground. You tossed the cards back to the desk as Sam turned off the small lamp. The rodents were spooked as well from the noise as they began to argue amongst each other.

“Shoo! Quiet!”

"Don't shush me! You be quiet!"

"I am quiet. Now."

You and the boys headed for the door with your guns dawn, unsure of who might be out there. It might have been the chef back for a snack. You followed behind as Dean opened up the door and swiftly stepped outside to the hall, taking a quick glance around before you and his brother joined him. There was no one around the hall you came down, but there were echoes coming from the kitchen. All of you slowly headed there, expecting the man you heard so much about. Instead Dean found himself lowering his gun and hiding it quickly as he could when he spotted an unfamiliar face at work. It took no time at all for the chef to look up from what he was doing and to the three strangers disrupting him.

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked in a slightly frustrated tone of voice. He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting impatiently for your answer.

"We're from the health department." Sam explained to him, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Stopped by for an inspection."

"I wasn't aware we had one scheduled." He said.

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be. That's the point." Dean replied, continuing off with the lie his brother made up on the spot. "Besides, I thought you were closed."

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The man explained to all of you. One of the waiters working tonight pushed open the swinging doors to the dining area and walked in, only to stumble upon the confusing sight that was unraveling. "In fact, he'll be here any minute,"

"Oh. Well, then. In that case, the kitchen's shut down." You declared. The chef's expression dropped at hearing the news. Clearly he demanded answers as to the sudden dramatic information without a proper warning. "Because you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14. And what's that? Mice. You people have mice. You call yourself fine dining. The only thing people here are getting served is mice droppings."

"Out. Come on. Get out." Dean instructed the two men, waving for the swinging door the waiter came in from. All though they weren't exactly happy about the change in plans, there was little fuss. "Both of you. We'll let you know."

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the two men inform the guest about the change in plans for the evening. While they didn’t appear to be pleased at the ruined evening, everyone scurried off the property in the matter of seconds. "All right." You directed your gaze back to the older Winchester when he devised a plan. "I'll take the front. You and Sam take the back."

“Do we even know how to kill this guy?” You asked, wondering if you were going into this situation with the wrong weapon. You hoped this wasn't going to be like poking the bear with a stick and getting mauled to death like the other victims.

"Well, empty one of these in his head." Dean suggested, gesturing the gun he pulled back out after the staff left. "See what that does."

You let out a faint sigh as you watched Dean make his way to the front of the restaurant as Sam continued searching through the rest of the kitchen, leaving you alone. This wasn't the first time you were going up against someone with strange abilities and an unsure way of how to take them down. You found yourself turning back on your heels to the hallway you came from when the sound of metal clanking wandered through the air again. You positioned your gun in front of you as you quietly followed the noise from where it came from.

You began making your way down the hallway again to see where the noise was coming from. All though you were cautious and on high alert, when you reached the end of the hallway, something still didn't sit right with you. You learned to trust your gut instinct when it kicked in. And right about now it was telling you something was wrong. You turned around to see that you weren't alone anymore. Chef Leo stood in front of you after appearing out of thin air. Whatever he had taken made him be able to blend into his surroundings and get the jump on you. You had no time to react at all from what he did to you next.

You felt a sudden sharp pain like claws dig into your neck scratching the skin deep enough for you to realize that it wasn't a simple scratch. You pressed your hand to the side of your neck when you felt blood starting to pour out from the wound at a fast rate. The son of a bitch slashed your throat. You had little time to react before you bled to death on the floor. You tried to steady yourself as you made your way down the hall, keeping as much blood in your body as you could. Chef Leo watched on as you struggled to stop yourself from falling down, he found it all amusing in a twisted way.

"Chameleons aren't all that bad.” He said, a hint of humor in his voice. “Kind of tastes like chicken."

You struggled to get your feet moving again when you finally pushed yourself off the wall you had been leaning on. The logical part of your brain was yelling at you to get moving before it was too late. You already lost enough blood from just standing here trying to get your head on straight. There was no way you could scream for help, but you might be able to find Dean if you moved fast enough. You tried to get your vision from going blurry as you managed to take a few steps. With each passing second you felt your body starting to grow weaker as you struggled to breathe on your own.

You dealt with severe blood loss before, you knew the way your body was reacting. You forced yourself to try and keep going, despite your breathing turning heavier and your sight growing weaker with your body. You felt yourself starting to lose consciousness as your fight was slowly dwindling to the end. Right as you were on the edge of death, someone pulled you back from taking the plunge.

Ezekial, the angel who had been hiding himself quietly in your body over the past several weeks, needed you alive. He preferred to keep his meddling to a minimum. Most of the time he was lured out from hiding by Dean due to some situation he put himself in that needed his help. He felt you slowly choking on your own blood from the slashes you endured on your neck. A simple touch to the wound when he took control healed your wound in the matter of seconds before he vanished quickly as he came. You were left gasping for air, and finding it was easy to do so.

You felt something sticky and warm covering the hand that was wrapped tightly around your neck. That was it. No excruciating pain. No gasping for breath. You felt...normal. You quickly felt around the skin for some kind of indication that the slashes on your throat were still there. But there was nothing. Your brows furrowed together in confusion as you turned around to face Chef Leo, who appeared to be perfectly normal. Not a drop of blood was on him. You were covered in your own blood. But not a single scratch was on your body. The man stared at you with bewilderment at what you did in front of him.

“How the hell did you do that?” He questioned you.

“Do what?” You asked him, sounding confused as he was.

"Don't play coy with me." He snapped at you. "I want to know what you are."

"Buddy, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." You shot back at him, trying to turn your anxiety into anger. Despite the fact that you were without a weapon, you knew you could defend yourself against him. But your mind was still stuck on the fact that you were miraculously healed after he clawed your throat.

"Oh, screw the sharktopus." Chef Leo muttered to himself. Your focus finally went back to the psychopath standing in front of you, and before you had a chance to get yourself out of the situation you landed yourself in, he was faster. All it took was a swift punch for you to fall to the ground unconscious. "You’re my main course."

[Next Part]

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

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Rating: G

Summary: Kagami and Nino plan a surprise party for Adrien's seventeenth birthday. With help from their friends, nothing can go wrong this time. Nino's even invited an extra special guest who's sure to make Adrien's night. (Nino & Kagami & Adrien friendship, with a side of Ladrien)

Word Count: 3101 | Chapter 1/3

Notes: written for @marinetteplztakeabreak through the @mlbforblm charity drive! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an online organization for racial justice centered on the Black Lives Matter movement. I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able! I have one fic slot left as of 7/23/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well! There’s even a giveaway going on; see the mlbforblm blog for more info!

XXX

“Hmm.” Kagami’s brow furrowed as she stared at Nino’s Operation: Totally Swank Party binder. The two of them sat on a bench in the park, where she had agreed to meet him after slipping away from her fencing lesson. “Bribing the bodyguard is a proven technique. Get me a list of action figures his collection is missing, and I’ll have them by tomorrow.”

“Way ahead of you, dude.” Nino tore a piece of notebook paper out. He’d done his research last night after a long phone call with Adrien. “Glad I can count on you.”

“Of course.” She neatly folded the paper and slipped it into her jacket pocket. “I’ll have them shipped to your apartment. Do you have a plan to dispose of his babysitter?”

Nino sighed and flipped to the page with a doodle of Nathalie with horns at the top. It was a much more tentative outline than what he’d prepared to deal with the Gorilla. Hopefully Kagami would be able to help him with that.

“Nathalie’s whole job is to suck out all the fun in my bro’s life. We’ll never be able to throw this party with her in the picture.”

He’d tried the past three years. From Hawkmoth transforming him into the Bubbler, to Nathalie locking him in a closet, to Gabe himself nearly arresting him for trespassing, each had been a total bust. At this point Adrien probably wasn’t expecting Nino to try.

But Adrien was his best bro. Nino would never give up on throwing him the most poppin’ party ever.

Plus, this year, he had a secret weapon. One that even Kagami didn’t know about.

“You seem quite prepared.” Kagami squinted at the page. “You’re sure Max can play his part? The Agrestes use my mother’s security technology.”

“Positive. He and Markov can hack anything.”

Max had already wired into the speaker system last time they threw a party for Adrien. Of course, on Adrien’s birthday, the mansion would be too obvious a target. That’s why the plan just required getting his bro out of the house altogether.

“I’ll trust you, then. What exactly is my role?”

Nino grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You, my good bro, will be sneaking Adrien away from his fake fencing lessons. Adrien says you’ve done it a thousand times, and his pops still barely knows who you are. You’ve got like, some kind of invisibility superpower.”

“I simply have practice. That’s all.” She took his pen and began making notes in his binder. “Nathalie will realize we’re gone approximately forty-five minutes after we leave. The Gorilla has set patrol routes for finding Adrien when he goes missing, which I can map out for you.”

“If he takes the bribes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kagami was already sketching out a map of the city on a clean sheet of paper. Geez, how did she remember all that? He doubted he could even draw the path from his apartment to Alya’s.

“I don’t want to take any chances. We cannot fail Adrien. Do you have a venue reserved already?”

“Huh?” Nino scratched under his hat. Kagami was pretty rad, but it was hard to follow her train of thought sometimes. “Oh, right! I was thinking the hotel. Now that Chloé’s not a total jerk—”

“No. Too obvious. Nathalie will find us within the hour.” Kagami frowned and tapped the pen against the back of her hand. “The ice rink will be our best option. It’s out of his bodyguard’s patrol zone, and it can accommodate all of Adrien’s friends. We hid there all the time when we were dating, and no one ever found us.”

“Sure, sure, there’s just one problem.” He grinned nervously and tapped his fingers together. “I, uh, don’t know how to skate.”

Kagami tilted her head and. “Really? No matter. His birthday is twenty-one days away. You have plenty of time to learn.”

Over her shoulder, he watched her write “Teach Nino to ice skate” in her crisp print.

“Uhh… well, I guess that works.” Hopefully everyone else knew how to skate already, or they could just enjoy the food and cake from the seats surrounding the rink. Nino could technically do that too, but he didn’t want to miss hanging out on the ice with his best bro.

“I’ve seen you parkour with Alya. You seem like you’ll learn quickly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Nino chuckled. “Just get ready to watch me starfish out there.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “If it proves too difficult for you, I can try to find a backup location. I doubt one exists that will fit everyone you’ve listed, though.” She flipped back to the guest list, which included all of their classmates from the last few years, Adrien’s whole fencing team, and a few other friends like Luka and XY. Pretty much everyone Adrien had ever interacted with was on the list.

Except for one special guest, but Nino had left her out on purpose.

“No, no, it’ll be fine! I’m just joking, dude.”

“Oh.” Her face pinked a bit. “How are we going to deliver the invitations without alerting Nathalie or Adrien’s father?

“I’ve started planning that too.” Nino flipped forward a few pages. “The most important guests—ones who aren’t gonna snitch on us—will get their invites a week in advance. The rest will get theirs by text on the day of. If they can’t come, they can’t come.” It was the best solution he’d been able to come up with. He was sure that even if people did have plans, most would drop them for a chance to party with Adrien Agreste.

“Hmm. It still feels too obvious. The fencing team in particular may give us up.” She frowned before scratching a few names off the list. Well, she was on the team herself; she would know better than anyone who could be trusted. “You’re right though. This does seem like the best plan.”

Nino grinned. One nice thing about Kagami was that when she gave a compliment, he knew it was sincere. If she agreed with his birthday plan, then it was as close to foolproof as it could be.

“Sweet. I think that covers everything for now.”

“A very productive planning session.” Kagami nodded before holding out her fist.

Nino laughed and bumped knuckles with her. After a year of hanging out with him and his bro, Kagami was finally getting the hang of fist bumps.

“Meet me at the ice rink at eighteen hundred on Saturday. We’ll begin your lessons then.”

She closed the binder and handed it back to him, then stood and walked away.

“Skating lessons with Kagami, huh…”

This was either going to be a legit time, or he was going to make a total idiot of himself.

XXX

“Come on, Nino, you’ve got this!” Alya called encouragement as she and Marinette lapped him again. He frowned at their backs. How was it that even Marinette, certified clumsiest girl in Paris, could be a better skater than him?

“Focus, Nino.” Kagami snapped her fingers. She stayed near him, slowing her pace even though she could’ve skated rings around him. “Your girlfriend’s praise will only become reality if you practice proper technique. Keep your weight centered.”

“Right, right.” He pushed off from the handrail and tried not to flap his arms. This time, he made it a solid twenty seconds before he slipped and went skidding across the ice. His hat slid off in the opposite direction, but Kagami quickly retrieved it.

“Don’t try to go so fast. Catching up to Marinette and Alya isn’t your goal.” Kagami’s advice was blunt, but helpful. Nino didn’t mind her getting to the point. He knew his skating needed work, and no matter how many times he fell, she didn’t lose patience with him.

It was nice that Alya was so far ahead, honestly. It meant she didn’t see him look like a total dorkasaurus every time he fell.

I’m doing this for Adrien, he reminded himself each time. He didn’t need to be a pro skater. He just needed to be able to stay upright.

“You make it look so easy.” He frowned as Kagami glided backwards.

“I’ve been skating since I was six. It makes a relaxing hobby.”

He snorted. “How is anything about this relaxing?”

“Hmm. Perhaps you’re thinking too hard. It makes you hesitate, place your weight incorrectly. You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Yeah, you know I’m DJ-ing for the party.” He had no clue why Kagami was asking, though.

“Skating has a rhythm. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable timing your strides with music.”

He tapped his chin. “Y’know… that’s not a half bad idea.”

“Not half bad? Does that mean only half is good?”

“No, no, the whole idea’s good! It’s just an expression.”

He slipped his headphones over his ears and picked one of the slowest songs on his playlist. It was a waltz in ¾ time; hopefully that wouldn’t trip him up.

“Alright, here goes.”

He took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall.

One-two-three, one-two-three. The music was smooth as the ice under his skates. Kagami kept pace with him, smiling as he counted the beats under his breath.

Something about it did feel different. Maybe it was that he stopped overthinking; maybe it was just the magic of music. Either way, he went the whole six-minute song without falling on his butt.

“Not half bad.” Kagami smiled. “...Did I use that right?”

“Heck yeah, dude.” They fistbumped.

“Way to go Nino!” Marinette gave him a high five as she and Alya caught up.

“Thanks for teaching my boyfriend, Kagami. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, Alya.” Kagami’s cheeks turned red. “We’re all working together to ensure Adrien’s birthday is perfect. Teaching Nino is just one step in that plan.”

“Well, I still think it’s really cool of you. Oh! And speaking of the party, my mom says she can cater. I’ve already sworn her to secrecy.”

“Awesome! What about you, Marinette?” Nino took his headphones off to better hear the conversation, but his legs still knew what to do. “Are you gonna get Adrien a totally rad birthday cake or what?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” She nodded. “I’ll just have to drop it off before the party.”

“You’re still sure you can't come, girl?” Alya asked her.

“No, sorry. I promise I would if I could, but I—I’ve already made a commitment. But I’ll have the cake here on time, I swear!”

“And one of his fifty birthday presents, right?” She nudged Marinette with her elbow. Marinette nearly fell, but Nino wasn’t sure if that was from Alya’s bump or her words.

“I—I don’t have those anymore!” Her shoulders slumped. “It turns out, planning presents fifty years in advance works a lot better if you can see the future. They’re all out of style by now.”

Alya laughed at that. Nino couldn’t help noticing that Kagami had gone silent, though, her gaze locked on the ice in front of them.

“Something wrong, bro?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Adrien’s party won’t be perfect if Marinette isn’t present. I thought she of all people would understand how much she means to him.”

Marinette gasped. “I… I’m sorry, Kagami. Adrien does mean the world to me, and… I promise, I’ll make it up to him.”

Nino was forced to stop as Kagami grabbed the handrail and locked eyes with Marinette. Some kind of silent conversation seemed to pass between them. He looked to Alya for help, but she just shrugged. By now he thought he’d understand the girls, but maybe some things would always be a mystery.

“See that you do. He deserves that much.”

This wasn’t some kind of love triangle over Adrien again, was it? Kagami had stayed good friends with all of them after she and Adrien broke up. Marinette was probably still crazy in love with him, but that was nothing new.

“It’s okay, dudes. The party’s still going to be perfect. I’ve got a special surprise planned for our favorite bro.”

He winked at Alya, who grinned back. She’d been the one to help him pull it off.

“A surprise?” Marinette clapped her hands together at the same time Kagami raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t factor any surprises into our plans. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It’s not much of a surprise if everyone knows, is it?” Nino said. “But you’re right, I should have told you, Kagami. I just wasn’t sure if it would be awkward for you, knowing who Adrien’s crushing on now and all…”

“It’s not an issue. Adrien is a wonderful friend. That is more than enough for me,” Kagami replied.

“Adrien’s... crushing on someone?” Marinette asked, her eyes wide.

Oops. Kagami might have taken it well, but Nino should’ve waited until Marinette was gone.

“What’s the scoop, babe?” Alya raised her eyebrow, and Nino threw his hands in the air.

“I thought you already knew! Why do you think we worked so hard to get Ladybug to show up for his party?”

Marinette caught hold of the hand rail before her legs slipped out from under her.

“Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Oh. That’s all?” Kagami asked. “I’ve known that for months.”

“You have?”

“Was it supposed to be a secret? He keeps posters of her in his fencing locker.”

Marinette still looked like she was blue screening. Alya glared at Nino, and he gave a nervous smile. What was he supposed to do? Kagami had a point; the dude wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Anyway.” He coughed. “Our bro likes Ladybug, and she’s coming to his party, so he’s going to have a totally cash money time.”

“Cash money? You’ve been hanging out with Luka and XY too much, babe.”

Marinette giggled at that. She got her feet back under her, and they started skating in unison again. So… she wasn’t that upset? Whew.

“Oh, speaking of XY, I gotta get him here to help set up the special effects,” Nino said. “I already got permission from Phillipe. We’re going all out, courtesy of the actual cash money Kitty Section and XY’s last collab made.”

“How did we end up friends with so many rich people?” Alya mused under her breath.

“It sounds like the plan is in motion, then,” Kagami said.

“Yeah, it’s going to be perfect! Adrien will love it.” Marinette grinned. “Thank you two for putting all this together.”

“Anything for my best bro.” Nino shot her finger guns.

“He deserves a party worthy of his friendship,” Kagami added.

And he was going to get one. This year, of all years, Nino refused to let anything go wrong.

XXX

Three weeks later, on the night of September twenty-first, Nino paced the blue chairs surrounding the perimeter of the ice rink. His friends wove between the chairs, setting up tables of food and games. His turntables were already in place at the head of the rink, and XY was hooking them up to the speaker system.

“Nathalie’s schedule?” Nino asked as he passed Max.

“Hacked and adjusted.” Max flashed a thumbs up.

“Great job, dude.” He clapped him on the shoulder before moving on to Rose and Juleka’s station.

“Presents?”

“Stacked and organized!” Rose saluted.

“Sweet. Make sure to leave some extra space, there’ll be more where those came from.” He continued his path to where Chloé was lounging in a chair and scrolling through her phone.

“Chloé, status report.”

“No trace of Adrikins on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, or YouTube.” She flipped her ponytail. “You should check your tone, though. I’m not some peon you can just order around.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes. Classic Chloé. At least she was taking her job seriously, though. “Thanks for all your hard work.”

“You’re welcome.” She smirked.

Her job was one of the most important. If the media caught wind of Adrien’s location, the party would have to split before he even got here. To prevent that, Max had jammed the wifi and cell service so that only his computer, Chloé’s phone, and Nino’s phone had wifi. If anyone wanted to post about the party on social media, they’d have to wait until after it was over.

Everything was looking perfect. There wasn’t much else to do but wait for updates from Kagami.

19:00. Arrived at the court. No sign of Adrien.

19:04. Adrien has arrived. Bodyguard bribed and driving away.

19:05. En route to ice rink. Adrien was suspicious, but believed my excuse of buying him birthday orange juice.

Nino shook his head with a smile. How did Kagami type all that without Adrien noticing? At least everything seemed to going smoothly on her end, too.

He started pacing again. According to Kagami, a casual stroll from the school to the ice rink took twenty minutes. It was longer than Nino wanted to wait, but the location had to be far enough away to avoid notice.

His phone beeped again. He unlocked it to see a selfie of Kagami and Adrien smiling wide, though Adrien was practically unrecognizable in the oversized hoodie and bright blue wig Kagami had borrowed from Juleka.

Alya’s chin rested on Nino’s shoulder. “Aww, look at them. All grown up and ready to rebel.”

“Psh, Kagami’s been rebelling for ages. Adrien could still learn a thing or two from her.”

“Oh look, she sent another one!” Alya clicked his phone.

In this photo, the two of them were pulling funny faces. Adrien stuck out his tongue, while Kagami puffed out her cheeks and gave him bunny ears.

Nino laughed and put an arm around his girlfriend. “We did a great job with them, didn’t we?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled before zooming in on the background. “Looks like they’re in front of the parking lot. They’ll be here any time now.”

Sure enough, Kagami texted, 19:25. Two minutes away.

“Right!” Nino gave her cheek a quick kiss before running to his turntables. He snatched up the microphone, and his voice blasted through the speakers. “Alright, dudes! Adrien’s about to walk through those doors, so everyone hide!”

Their friends dove behind tables and chairs. All of them except XY, anyway.

“What’s the point, dude? He’s gonna see all our sick lights.” XY pointed to the laser lights next to the turntable.

“That’s why we switch them off,” Luka said, pressing the button. The rink fell into darkness.

“Ohhhh.”

Nino pulled the two of them under the table with him just before the double doors opened.

#what an ice surprise #fic tag #miraculous ladybug #kagami #nino lahiffe #nino #tali writes #mlbforblm

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years

Text

Welcome to the back (Part 12)

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

After all the angst of the last chapters, I owe you some fluff, don’t I? Have fun with this absolutely carefree feel-good chapter!

(I’m German and have never tried to write poetry in English before, don’t judge me)

- - -

“What do you think about the superheroes?”, Marinette asked him out of the blue. They were in her room, filming how she sewed buttons on the beret she was working on. The idea had come from his Akuma’s hat, but her version looked a lot less... extra. It was fun yet classy, his mother would love it. He’d been in the middle of taking a photo to sent it to her when Marinette had asked.

“Huh”, he shrugged. “Not much. Why do you ask?”

“Just out of curiosity. Come on, tell me what you think!”

She truly was random, from time to time. But if she wanted to know...

“I never met them before yesterday, and I don’t remember most of it.”

He tried not to think too much about what had happened, but sometimes he woke up screaming, hearing a voice that had burned itself into his mind like a brand. It felt... tainting to be controlled like that, to be turned into a puppet of his own emotions.

“But Ladybug was... nice.”

He shook his head.

“Totally different than what I expected. I saw her interviews, of course, but I didn’t expect her to really be like this off stage. She seemed... as if she really cared.”

She hadn’t just purified the akuma and been done with it, even though Felix wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. He’d seen Nino’s video, the fight had been brutal. But she’d stayed anyway, despite her obvious exhaustion. She’d made sure he was alright, and assured him he wasn’t at fault for anything. This wasn’t just a duty to her; it was her vocation. Felix admired that.

“And Chat Noir?”, Marinette pressed on. “What do you think about him?”

She was quite curious today, wasn’t she?

“He’s a threat, a loose canon.”, he said truthfully, voice cutting. “He’s a danger to himself, Ladybug and the entirety of Paris.”

He didn’t have any memories from his time as Sentiquill, but some of his feelings had remained after his defeat. Admiration for Ladybug, respect for Chloé, hate for Hawkmoth. And a burning sense of disgust towards that despicable Chat Noir. Not even as an Akuma he had liked him.

“I don’t understand how he could be this apathetic.”, he murmured. “As if it was all some kind of game to him! His partner was in danger, and he just... didn’t care. He has so much power, so much responsibility. But he wastes it like a child throwing a tantrum.”

He looked down.

“I don’t trust him to take his role seriously.”

If it had been Marinette instead of Rose...

And even worse, Marinette had been in Paris since the very beginning! She had witnessed dozens of Akuma’s, most of them coming out of her immediate vicinity. To think that her safety relied that greatly on someone like Chat Noir... was more than unsettling.

“Felix...”, Marinette started, biting her lip. “Would you... Do you think you’d be a better Chat Noir?”

“I think anyone could be a better Chat Noir.”

“That’s no answer!”

What was it with superheroes today? She seemed really fixated on the topic.

He sighed.

“I think... Ladybug needs a partner that has no problem following her lead. And I’m... stubborn. I would likely ruin her plans by improvising in the last second, or think I knew better. I’m no good as a sidekick.”

Marinette hummed, deep in her own thoughts. The way her brows twitched was just too adorable.

“Maybe...”, she pondered and he forced himself out of his reverie, “Maybe that could be a good thing. What if Ladybug doesn’t want a sidekick, but a partner? An equal who will actively help with her plans, not just follow orders. Someone who’s on the same wavelength as her.”

He doubted he was the right one for that. Ladybug was... sweet. Everyone liked her, looked up to her. Felix on the other hand was kind of a prick next to her.

“Maybe you should be Chat Noir instead.”, he suggested. “You’re definitely the type Ladybug would click with. You’re both clever, creative at problem solving, natural leaders...”

He promptly regretted his words, because now he was picturing Marinette in black leather and cat ears, which made his cheeks redder than ripe tomatoes. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea!

“I-I mean! You’d be a great hero!”

Oh fuck, he was stammering! He coughed a few times to collect himself. Luckily, Marinette didn’t think much of his reaction, instead she fumbled with the necklace she’d started to wear yesterday. A simple string of grey yarn that had its pendant hidden under her shirt. He narrowed his eyes. Was that...?

“Oh!”, Marinette said when she followed his gaze. “Um, that! It‘s Chat Noir merchandise I ordered online, but now...”

She pulled out the pendant, which turned out to be a surprisingly good replica of Chat Noir’s ring.

“I don’t really want to wear it anymore, after everything that happened, but it would be a waste to just throw it away.”

“Ah, I see.”

What a shame, it looked high quality. But if she was interested in superhero merch, maybe he could ask his mother to make her Ladybug earrings? Or try to create jewelry himself?

His eyes fell on her earlobes, on her black earrings to be precise. He’d never seen her without them, and she’d told him they were very important to her.

Hm. He felt as if that should tell him something...

Shrugging, he brought his thoughts back to possible gifts. Maybe he should opt for a Ladybug necklace instead.

“Aaaaah, finally done!”, Marinette sighed after clicking ‘send’. Days of planning, designing, filming and cutting had now resulted in a twenty minute video, complete with voice-over and footnotes. Sure, the camera she’d used wasn’t very great, and the picture was a bit wobbly around the five minute mark, but now it was clipped to an email and on its way to TV1.

She did it! And there even was a day left until the end of the deadline!

“I’m sure they’ll be amazed.”, Felix assured her and leaned back in his chair. “And if not, I can always bribe them!”

“Don’t you dare!”, she laughed. “This will be my grand debut! No cheating!”

“Grand debut? I didn’t know you were that interested in journalism.”

Marinette fell back on her couch, replaying the report on her phone.

“I’m not. At least not as a career.”

She pointed at the bowler hat on her desk, the one she’d made for the Agreste Competition.

“But as a future designer, I need publicity. To show the world what I can do. Gabriel Agreste’s hat competition was a start, but it was centered mostly on the hat itself, not me as its designer. This contest on the other hand gives me a real platform!”

“Like a portfolio in video format.”, Felix realized. “That’s why you wanted to film here, not in my Mum’s atelier? So you could show all your other designs and materials?”

He clicked his tongue when she nodded.

“Brilliant. That way, everyone can see you’re a professional already and are serious about this.”

“It’s my chance to advertise myself.”, she agreed. “Even if I don’t win, the report is going to be viewed by a great amount of people! I hope that I’ll get commissioned more after this, maybe even receive offers for internships and so on.”

She put her phone away and stretched.

“Anyway, it’s going to look great on my resume!”

“Already planning the long game, huh?”, Felix chuckled and fell on the couch next to her. They had worked the whole day and were equally exhausted. “Now all we have to do is wait.”

She glanced sideways at his profile. He was looking at the roof, the pictures she’d plastered it with. Instead of Adrien, there were sketches of designs she had in mind, or pictures of her friends. A lot of them had Felix in them as well.

She smiled. In the short time he had been in her life, he had already turned into such an existential part of it.

“Thank you.”

He turned to look at her, surprised.

“For what?”

Hard to explain. The urge to thank him had come over her out of the blue, not directed at anything in particular. Just a general gratefulness to have him at her side.

His cheeks turned red when she told him this, word for cheesy word.

“You’re exaggerating.”, he murmured, and she pouted.

“I’m not! For someone that confident, you really gotta learn how to take a compliment.”

“I don’t get them that often!”, he grumbled in his defense. “At least not from people that matter to me.”

Now she was blushing herself. Stupid! They were friends, so of course she mattered to him.

Still. Hearing him say it was... something different. It made her heart flutter and her head swim.

“You matter to me as well.”, she confessed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. No, really!”

She gave him a little shove when he opened his mouth, likely to say something sarcastic and ruin the moment.

“You’ve done so much for me. You’re the only one that sticks with me, no matter what, and you’re the one that makes me want to... grow. With you, I feel like I’m invincible.”

His lips parted to answer, but no sound left him. Eyes glistening with... something he just stared at her, awestruck. This time she held his gaze, as if she could transmit the magnitude of her feelings for him via eye contact. He had to know, to understand how much he meant to her.

“Why?”, he breathed eventually, his voice so soft she barely heard him. “Why are you... telling me this?”

“Just so... Just so you know.”, she croaked, overcome by a strange kind of sentimentality. “I feel like I could lose you otherwise.”

“You won’t lose me.”, he promised and propped his head up on his hand to look her in the eye. “Never. I wouldn’t leave you for the world.”

She believed him. After everything that happened - with their class, Adrien, even Alya though she never meant to hurt her - she still couldn’t doubt for even a second that he spoke the truth. Felix was there for her. He wouldn’t turn on her, not ever.

A harsh ring broke the intimacy, shaking them out of the tender moment.

“I-It’s Cordelia.”, Felix uttered when he looked on his phone. His voice was hoarse and he coughed to clear his throat. “She told me to be home around eight.”

It was almost nine already.

“I should get going.”

Marinette sat up and rubbed the back of her head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll, uh, bring you to the door.”

“Right. Er, thanks.”

The silence between them as they walked down the stairs was a bit awkward. Marinette’s heart was still racing for reasons she didn’t want to examine right now, and she bumped in almost every piece of furniture on their way down. And what was up with her hands?! They were clasping at her jacket, her pockets, each other, as if they didn’t know how to relax anymore.

“I... I’ll see you on Monday, then.”, Felix said at the door, clutching the strap of his bag like a lifeline. Had she said too much? Had she embarrassed herself, or made him uncomfortable?!

“I-I guess.”, she stammered like a complete idiot. To her surprise, Felix didn’t leave yet. Instead he fumbled with a piece of paper before holding it out to her.

“It’s not much.”, he mumbled, before straightening himself. “But it’s sincere, and you should have it. I wrote it for you, after all.”

Hesitantly she took the folded paper from him. It was rough around one side, as if he had ripped it out of his book last minute, but his hand writing was as elegant as always. Intrigued she began to read.

Fierce and fervent, a force to behold,

Clever and cheerful, so charmingly bold,

A force to reckon with, a bright-blazing light,

You guide and beckon me, my star in the night.

“I didn’t think a lot about it, it’s more of a draft, actually.”, Felix tried to play it down as she stared at his poem, at a loss for words. “I’ll give you the improved version later, it’s okay if you throw this one away. It’s barely eight lines, I mean, I just-“

He stopped his stupid, stupid blabbering when she put her hand on his shoulder. Without hesitancy, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love it.”, she said, meaning every word to the letter. “It’s perfect.”

She held the paper like a treasure, even long after Felix had gone home.

“Can you believe it?”, she asked Tikki as she all but danced through her room, searching for tape to glue it on her wall. “He wrote it just for me! He just- just sat down, thought about me and wrote this! It’s wonderful!”

“That was so sweet of him!”, Tikki agreed, flying around her chosen. “He must have put a lot of effort in this, with how flustered he was after your reaction.”

The Kwami gave her a cheeky grin.

“Or maybe that had more to do with the fact that you kissed him.”

Marinette blushed and accidentally taped her fingers to the wall instead.

“O-only on the cheek!”, she corrected her little friend. “Geez, you make it sound as if I had... as if I... you know.”

“Do I?”

Tikki giggled when Marinette gave her a glare.

“Alright, alright, I’m just teasing you. But I do have a question.”

“Hm?”, she asked and finally managed to get the poem on her wall. The deep violet ink fit into her room’s color scheme perfectly.

“Why didn’t you give Plagg’s Miraculous to Felix?”, Tikki wondered. “His bag was right there, and we know you’d make a great team!”

Marinette sighed, holding the miraculous in her open palm.

“I think so as well, and I really wanted to! But...”

She closed her hand around it.

“This can’t be a decision I make so quickly. And certainly none I make just because I like Felix. Ladybug’s partner has to be someone that has proven themselves to be a hero. I can’t let my personal feelings interfere with that choice.”

Tikki floated closer.

“But what if Hawkmoth attacks with a new Akuma before you found someone?”

“I already thought of that.”, Marinette smirked with pride. “Chloé has worked on herself a lot, lately, and she’s reliable. She has shown she can handle being a temporary hero, even if she can’t keep the Miraculous. She might not be my first choice as a partner, and I don’t think she’s ready for such a great duty. But if Hawkmoth attacks before I’m ready to make a choice, I’ll ask Chloé to step in as a temporary Chatte Noire.”

“You really thought a lot about this!”, Tikki praised her. “I’m proud of how well you handle this responsibility.”

Marinette smiled and ran her hand over the rim of Felix’ poem.

“Thanks.”

She smirked.

“But I’ll definitely keep an eye on Felix. For professional reasons, of course.”

When Felix came to school on Monday, he was still reeling from Marinette’s reaction last Friday. Cordelia had been awaiting him with her infamous frown when he’d finally arrived at home, but quickly put on a knowing grin when she’d seen his face. “Our boy is in love.”, she’d whispered to his mother, thinking he wasn’t listening. “Let’s give him a pass.”

He had never felt this happy. Not just content or satisfied, but exuberantly, vigorously happy.

He’d tried to calm himself, he really had. It was just a gesture of gratitude, he’d reasoned. Or alternatively: This was Paris. Didn’t French people greet each other with a kiss on the cheek?

But no matter how he tried to rationalize it, his heart wouldn’t listen.

Marinette had kissed his cheek.

Marinette had kissed his cheek!

Bliss lightening his steps and euphoria blazing in his eyes, he was walking so quickly he arrived at school almost half an hour early. He didn’t have it in himself to mind. That way, he’d see Marinette even sooner! Provided that she was actually on time, of course. But so what if she wasn’t? He had the entire day to spend with her! She’d liked his poem - she’d liked his poem! - so maybe he could show her one of the others he had written for her. ‘Star in the night’ had been his personal favorite, but some of his more elaborated poems should-

“Felix!”, called a voice that actually managed to darken his mood. With a groan he quickened his pace, hoping that ignoring her would make her disappear again. Of course he wasn’t that lucky.

“Felix, wait!”, Rossi said again and grabbed his elbow. She grabbed his elbow. Ew.

“Do not touch me.”, he growled, emphasizing every syllable. To his surprise, Lila listened.

“Sure, as you wish!”, she complied cheerfully. He frowned. That was not a good sign.

“What do you want? Aren’t you busy with coddling Agreste’s ego? I’m sure he’s easier for you to handle.”

Rossi grinned and played with her hair.

“My, my, no need to get jealous.”

Ugh. There goes my good mood.

“I’m not putting up with this today.”, he muttered to himself and walked towards the art room. If Aurore or Alix were already there, Rossi wouldn’t dare to try anything. The two were vicious.

“Go and-“ - manipulate one of the other idiots, he wanted to say, but remembered the class’s reaction to Rossi’s latest lie. They were smarter than he gave them credit for, it was time to put his first impression of them aside. “- play famous somewhere else.”

Convinced that this would do the trick he started walking again, only to stop dead in his tracks at her next words.

“I met your father, recently.”

He froze from head to toe. His teeth were clenched so hard he feared he might break something.

“You’re lying.”

“We had a nice, long chat.”, Rossi ignored his reproach. He could hear the smug grin in her face. “About you. And your family situation. René is such a caring father, wanting to watch out for you even after all that he went through.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rossi.”, he seethed, fists twitching. (“You’re useless!”, his father screamed at him. “If I weren’t watching out for you, you’d be dead in a gutter by now!”)

“You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“He told me so much about you.”, Rossi continued. Felix wanted to throttle her. “And he agrees that you need a bit more... guidance when it comes to your social life.”

(“Public school?! Don’t make me laugh, Evelyn, he could deal with people even less than you can with PR.”)

“And a reminder of who you are.”

(“Listen here, boy. You are my son, and nothing more. Without me, you wouldn’t last a day basically anywhere. So don’t embarrass yourself by falling for some freeloader’s niceties to you!”)

“Of who you belong with.”

(“This little shit doesn’t want your friendship but my money! You honestly think you’ve got anything to offer otherwise? Stick to the people we belong with, or you’ll be gutted like a fish by these animals!”)

Felix’ breath came flat and panting, his head flooded by moments he desperately tried to forget. He was Felix Leanne, not Bordeaux, and he wouldn’t let himself be defined by some old bigot’s perception of him. His father was gone, and he wouldn’t be able to come back at him any time soon. No looking back, only forward.

“You can deem yourself fortunate,” he pressed out, “that I am no violent person. You wouldn’t be able to spout any more bullshit for a long time, otherwise.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

He hated her. Hated his father. Hated how some stupid, empty words could turn him into a ten year old child again, trembling and so utterly exhausted from everything this bastard threw at him.

“No need to get upset.”, Rossi continued and flung her hair back. “It’s not like I’m threatening you. No, I just want you to give me a chance. Get to know me, you’ll see I’m not as bad as you think!”

She laughed.

“Seriously, Felix, we’d have so much fun together. We’re both artists with words, after all, and we come from similar upbringings. It’s almost scary how well we match, don’t you think?”

She was insane. She’d just straight up manipulated herself into believing this. If he weren’t livid with anger, he’d be impressed.

“You’re going to listen closely, Rossi.”, he ordered her and slowly turned around to face this witch. “No matter what kind of illusion you entertain yourself with, I’ll play no part in that. You’re a manipulative liar, a selfish bully, and just a generally unpleasant person to be around. And neither you nor the monster you call my father have any power over me.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“There’s nothing you can do to me that matters, in the long run. And I don’t care about him anymore. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

With that, he wanted to storm off. But she wasn’t done with him yet.

“I really wish you didn’t force me to do this.”, she sighed. “But we talked about Dupain-Cheng as well.”

His heart stopped. Not missed a beat, but just refused to work until it had finished clenching in fear. He felt as if he might throw up.

“Did I mention your dad is the producer of Journalism Junior?”, she chuckled. “You know, the contest I signed our class up for? What a coincidence!”

No, no, no, no!

Her eyes were glowing with satisfaction.

“He has access to all videos that are sent in, and he decides which to show. Complete control over his viewers opinion, is what he calls it.”

“What did you do?”, he choked, not sure if he wanted an answer.

“Me? Nothing!”, was her innocent reply. “Not yet, at least. The question is, Felix Darling,” she hummed, “what I can do. And that is a whole lot.”

She crossed her arms and put on her exaggerated thinker face.

“For example, he sent me Marinette’s report as soon as it came in, and oops! I have one with the exact same contents now. The time stamp says I finished it last Tuesday already, and I made it with the highest-quality equipment there is. It would be a shame if Marinette were to be outed as a copycat in front of everyone in Paris, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t breathe. His mother was a designer herself, he knew what this could mean.

“Her career would be over before it began.”, Lila spoke his thoughts out loud. “No one would hire a thief as designer, the contest is going to be watched by millions. And you know me, I’m a sweetheart. Once they see my report, I’ll have everyone make her life miserable forever. Her friends, her teachers, everyone.”

She laughed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I could make Adrien smear his fan base against her, the poor boy is as dense as a brick.”

Her smile was the most disturbing thing he’d ever seen.

“Honestly, your dad is so awesome. With him, I can make all my stories a reality! It’s as he says: everything is the truth if enough people believe it.”

“You think you can blackmail me?!”, he snarled at her, hiding his despair. “If you ruin Marinette’s reputation, I can always ask my mother to hire her. She’s already in love with her designs, she can guarantee Marinette the brightest future there is.”

“Oh, Felix.”, Rossi cooed. “Be honest. You know her better than me. Would Marinette accept that? A career given to her out of pity, because you happen to be Leanne’s son?”

It wouldn’t be out of pity. His Mum had kept track of Marinette’s work, fascinated by her skills and creativity. But... Marinette wouldn’t believe that. She’d see it just like Rossi, as something she was handed on a silver platter of pity. She’d never accept that. Not Marinette, who wanted to do everything from scratch, who tried to prove herself so badly she rejected any offer of material help from him. No expensive fabrics, no special sewing machines, no rare supplies. She only ever asked for his support, his opinion, and his hand to hold the camera from time to time.

“But if you finish Marinette,” Rossi continued gleefully, “If you give her the cold shoulder from now on and do as I say, René is going to let Marinette’s report disappear. It just won’t make it into the selection that’ll be published. Might not be good for her ego, but at least she won’t be branded a copycat forever.”

Turning on Marinette? Abandoning her?

“You’re the only one that sticks with me, no matter what.”

He couldn’t do that. He... he couldn’t.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She meant so much to him, and she was counting on him.

“You matter to me as well.”

He had promised to stay at her side.

“You won’t lose me.”, he had sworn her. “Never. I wouldn’t leave you for the world.”

He’d rather kiss Agreste’s feet than go back on that. But...

“This will be my grand debut!”

Her designing was everything to her. Her passion, her future, her vocation. It was as important to her as his poetry to him.

On his first day, Marinette had risked her reputation, her friendships with the others, simply everything by giving him his poems back. She had taken one look at his writing and understood how much it meant to him. It had been natural for her to put her own happiness last, for someone she hadn’t even known yet.

Felix would be damned if he didn’t do the same for her. If Marinette suffered because of him, he’d never forgive himself.

He desperately wanted to find another way, a hidden loophole in Rossi’s plan, but it was to no avail. The liar had him cornered, backed against the wall.

He was lost.

“What do you want me to do?”, he whispered in defeat.

- - -

MWAHAHAHA! I gotcha! Ya really thought I’d be that fluffy?! Well you were WRONG! SUFFER WITH ME! No one’s getting out of this with all their feels intact! BWAHAHA!

#miramu writes #welcome to the back #wttb #felinette fanfic #ml felix

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

Text

I don’t know how into NieYao you are but I can really see NieYao working with the hand job at the Renaissance Faire one. Alternatively, Wangxian.

prompted by @three–rings get ready for more shenanigans

(crossposted to ao3)

—

“Speed dating?” Nie Mingjue repeats dubiously. “At a Ren Faire?”

“It’s for a good cause,” Lan Xichen says with a laugh. “The Chinese Cultural Association is running it as a way to raise funds and awareness for local Asian diaspora resources and projects.”

“Mm,” Nie Mingjue says, unconvinced. “This is an awfully convenient scenario for you, the head of the CCA.”

Lan Xichen tips his head, all wide-eyed innocence. “And whatever do you mean by that, Mingjue?”

“This is just an elaborate con to get Wangji and that Wei kid to fuck,” he accuses.

“Mingjue!” Lan Xichen admonishes, but his eyebrow twitches, and the corner of his mouth is quirked, the way that Nie Mingjue has known since childhood belies something just a little devious.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, fine.” He rolls his eyes. “Is any of the money going towards improving the Chinese School curriculum?”

Lan Xichen winces. Nie Mingjue grimaces back.

“I’m afraid… well, I think the Chinese School needs more than just its curriculum overhauled,” Lan Xichen says delicately. “And it’s not exactly something money is going to fix.”

“It’s been bad since we were kids, and it’s going to be bad for all of our kids as well at this rate,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh of resignation. “Rite of passage, I guess.”

“Isn’t it a rite of passage for all ABC kids?” Lan Xichen points out.

“It wouldn’t be if it were run properly, by people who understood what we actually needed!” It’s an old conversation, and a familiar one. They run along the grooves of it with a comforting, cantankerous grumbling, Lan Xichen disappointed, but placating; Nie Mingjue frustrated and heated. It’s nice, in its way.

“Whatever, fine, I’ll do it,” Nie Mingjue says. “Good cause, etc. Did you rope your new boyfriend into it as well?”

Lan Xichen positively lights up at that, and Nie Mingjue can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. What a precious man. “Yes, I did, actually! I thought—well, I thought this might be fun way for the two of you to meet,” Lan Xichen says with another little laugh. “Low stakes, and if it turns out you hate each other, you only need to spend three minutes in each other’s company.”

“That’s true,” Nie Mingjue says. Lan Xichen—precious, but practical, as always. “All right, fine. I’ll be there, I’ll meet your new man, and I’ll even promise not to take his head off if you take me out to dinner after.”

Lan Xichen rolls his eyes fondly. “You say that like we haven’t been planning that dinner for weeks.”

“Yes, well, I’m being generous,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Nie Mingjue regrets it.

Like, not totally. Lan Xichen has gathered a rather impressive number of participants, and maybe if he were in a better mood, Nie Mingjue might actually be kind of interested in a few of them. As it is though, he’s barely had a chance to see Xichen the entire day, and he was roped into a horrible conversation with Jin Guangshan for nearly an hour when all he really wanted to do was hang out at the smithy tent and ask questions about their demonstration on Damascus steel. So it’s fine that he’s now stuck at this speed dating gimmick that is definitely, no matter what Xichen says, a very transparent setup for the most disastrous couple of their generation, but. Well. He’d have felt better about it if he knew how to forge Damascus steel. At least the weather is nice.

Lan Xichen taps a small gong on the table. “Hello, everyone,” he calls out with a smile. “Welcome to our speed dating event. As you know, all proceeds will be going to various projects supporting local Asian diaspora interests, so I’d like to start by thanking you all for your generosity.”

Nie Mingjue tunes out the rest of his speech because he’s heard it before in various iterations. Lan Xichen is good at what he does, speaks with clear, eloquent diction and a gentle demeanor. Just the sound of his voice is enough for Nie Mingjue, who spends the time eyeing the participants and trying to guess which one is Xichen’s new boyfriend. There are a few potential candidates he picks out, but Xichen has never really had a type, so to speak, so it’s actually rather challenging.

The first few people are pleasant enough conversation partners, but not much more. Nie Mingjue keeps himself at a polite distance from them, and he expects he won’t be seeing them again. He sits through five minutes of mutually agreed-upon silence across from Wangji. They saw each other yesterday, and neither of them are particularly good at forced small talk. He sits through a distinctly more chatty five minutes across from Wei Wuxian, who spends the whole time shooting distracted glances at Lan Wangji a few tables over, speaking softly to a young woman who seems obviously very taken with his manners.

“Hey, Wei,” Nie Mingjue says, interrupting his stream of consciousness rambling with about a minute left on the clock.

“Huh? Yeah?”

“Just fucking take Wangji and leave.” Nie Mingjue jerks his head at the exit.

“Seriously. This is painful to watch.”

Wei Wuxian looks caught out, a deer in the headlights. “What do you mean?”

Nie Mingjue leans forward, putting on his most intense expression—the one he reserves for special occasions and threatening his brother’s bullies. “I mean that Xichen might believe in gentle nudges, but I, for one, am sick of you two making sad cow eyes at each other at every fucking family event. It’s unbearable. Either tell him how you feel or get over yourself. Please. For the love of god.”

Wei Wuxian gapes at him like a fish a few times before leaning in and hissing, “Mingjue-ge!! You can’t just say shit like that!”

Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Don’t you want to?”

“I—!”

The gong rings.

“I’m serious, Wei,” Nie Mingjue says, standing up with a scrape of his chair. “I know neither of you want to be here. Take him before someone else pressures him into a date he doesn’t want to go on.”

“Lan Zhan would never—”

“Snag him before the change finishes,” Nie Mingjue interrupts, then whisks himself away before Wei Wuxian can protest again.

The next man he sits before is dressed in a delicate costume of pale gold and a plain black hat. “Hello,” he says, voice soft-spoken and musical.

“Hello,” Nie Mingjue says.

“Your saber is very fine,” the man says without preamble, tilting his head to get a better look. “I’ve been eyeing it since you arrived.”

Nie Mingjue opens his mouth automatically to thank him, but then notices the mischievous arch to his eyebrow, the slant to his smile. He frowns instead.

“If that was supposed to be an innuendo, it wasn’t a very good one.”

“Oh no,” the man deflects with just the right pitch of mild scandal and innocence. “Not at all! I was merely admiring the… craftsmanship. It’s hard to get a blade that large of such high quality.”

Nie Mingjue leans back, crossing his arms. He doesn’t have patience for word games. “You’re just fucking with me now.”

The man laughs. “Well, I’ve only got three minutes to make an impression.”

“And you chose ‘talk about his sword like it’s his penis’ as a tactic?”

The man hums, but doesn’t stop smiling. “Put like that, it does sound rather crass.”

“Is this what you do with all your dates?” Nie Mingjue asks.

“Oh, of course not. What sort of date would I be if I didn’t tailor my approaches?” He widens his eyes just slightly, leans in.

“What’s your name?” Nie Mingjue asks, because it’s only polite.

“What’s yours?” the man counters.

“Nie Mingjue,” he replies bluntly and without hesitation. “I’m not interested in playing.”

The man throws his head back with an elegant laugh. “I see that. Jin Guangyao, at your disposal.”

Nie Mingjjue squints. “Jin?”

“Indeed,” Jin Guangyao says with a tragic, self-deprecating little sigh. “Son of Jin Guangshan.”

“Oh god,” Nie Mingjue says before he can help himself. “Another one?”

“I know, we’re all crawling out of the woodwork, clamoring for the inheritance,” Jin Guangyao says without shame. “Zixuan has been a very good sport about it all.”

Nie Mingjue huffs out a disbelieving breath. Jin Guangshan’s bastards have all been asserting themselves in recent years, much to the chagrin of his wife. Nie Mingjue can’t really blame the woman. She’s put up with a lot.

He doesn’t keep up with the gossip and is only vaguely familiar with the situation. As far as he knows, this man is maybe the third? fourth? of Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate children to make their appearance. Nie Mingjue wracks his brains, not very hard. There was that Mo kid maybe last year, and the entire scandal involving the Qin girl a year or two before that, but he can’t place any others.

“You’ve got his name,” Nie Mingjue remarks.

“Oh yes, he decided to grace me with recognition,” Jin Guangyao says. “Much good that it’ll do me. He’s currently trying to bribe me off with an allowance, hoping I won’t make any more trouble for him. My birth name is Meng.”

“Is that how you paid for that costume of yours?” Nie Mingjue asks, not without humor. This bastard’s got balls, he’ll admit. The cloth has a lovely weft to it and a flattering cut. He can smell how much it costs.

Jin Guangyao laughs again, ducking his head and averting his eyes, and then quite suddenly, Nie Mingjue recognizes him.

“Oh fuck, it’s you,” he curses. He’s seen those eyelashes before, those eyes glancing up through them, glinting with a dangerous, daring edge.

“Excuse me?” Jin Guangyao asks, blinking.

“It’s—it’s you, the—last year,” Nie Mingjue splutters, very articulately. “Behind the—the smithy tent. On the last night. After—”

The memory is a bit of a blur for Nie Mingjue—he’d been drunk on several glasses of wine, shared swigs of baijiu with his brother, and a singular horn of mead that someone had passed him halfway through the after-hours revelry, but he remembers an unfamiliar young man in Nie colors stumbling against him, face obscured by the chiaroscuro of night and firelight, remembers the slender frame of him in his arms, and the wet heat of his lips around his cock in the cool darkness.

Nie Mingjue remembers the elegance with which he sunk to his knees, the way his moans vibrated against him, and his expression when he glanced up—there had been quite a bit of kissing too, Nie Mingjue thinks. Before and after. And then the young man had pulled away and vanished with a cutting smile, leaving Nie Mingjue breathless and a little stunned in his wake.

“Ah,” Jin Guangyao says, and everything about him is familiar now that Nie Mingjue knows what to look for—that smile, for one. Jin Guangyao props his head up on his elbow and gives him that smile, the one that cuts. “Now, which one were you?”

“Which one?” Nie Mingjue demands. “How many people did you go down on at the Ren Faire last year?”

Jin Guangyao shrugs. “I admit I’m not sure. The party was long, and there was quite a lot of alcohol, if memory serves. And the space behind the smithy tent is very convenient.” His eyes crinkle sweetly. “Why, do you think you were prodigious enough for me to remember? I might, if we go for round two this year. I admit I wasn’t ah, exactly looking at faces. You understand.”

Nie Mingjue feels his face color. “That’s not—” He doesn’t like feeling off-balance, doesn’t like conversations that aren’t forthright, doesn’t like any of this, but he does, heavens help him, very much like the idea of fucking Jin Guangyao’s mouth again.

“Not… what? Not what you want?” Jin Guangyao asks smoothly before Nie Mingjue can continue to flounder. “Was my performance not to your liking?” His voice is embellished with a hint of wounded disappointment, which Nie Mingjue finds extremely suspect.

“No, it was—” Nie Mingjue can feel his flush darkening as his tongue slips. —excellent, he stops himself from saying. It would appear the man’s tongue is talented in more ways than one.

Nie Minjue wants to hit him, he’s so infuriated.

The gong rings.

Jin Guangyao stands, all smiles once more, and reaches over to stroke Nie Mingjue’s cheek. “It was very nice to meet you properly this time, Mingjue. Perhaps you’ll give me another chance to prove myself later.” He winks, so quickly Nie Mingjue isn’t sure he saw it at all, and then sweeps himself to a new partner.

Nie Mingjue is distracted and irritable for the rest of the event, which is hardly fair to his remaining dates, but he’s agitated and angry and it’s not like he really cared about making connections—he barely remembers to try and figure out who Xichen’s mystery boyfriend is—there’s a nice man with a pleasant personality and a lovely smile that he vaguely wonders about, but the whole time he’s conversing and making nice, he’s thinking about how much he wants to throttle Jin Guangyao. And maybe other things.

It’s very difficult to focus.

When the gong rings out for the last time, Nie Mingjue can’t throw himself out the seat fast enough. Lan Xichen collects everyone’s scorecards (Nie Mingjue’s had a total of one number on it, unsurprisingly), and gives another small speech thanking everyone for their participation and encouraging them to enjoy the rest of what the Faire has to offer. Matchlists are expected to be sent out tomorrow evening at the latest. There’s polite clapping before general dispersal. It doesn’t escape Nie Mingjue’s attention that neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji are among the crowd. He hopes they’re not sharing blowjobs behind the smithy tent.

Nie Mingjue stalks towards Lan Xichen as the final dregs of the participants trickle out, fully intent on venting his frustration to Lan Xichen’s willing ear, only to see that the subject of his ire is, in fact, already standing beside Lan Xichen. Standing very close beside Lan Xichen.

Nie Mingjue stops dead.

“Mingjue!” Lan Xichen calls, waving him over.

“Him?” Nie Mingjue accuses. The temptation to draw Baxia and point it for extra effect is unreal. He restrains himself, but only just.

Lan Xichen laughs. “I see A’Yao made an impression.”

Jin Guangyao smiles at Lan Xichen, and—the fuck, it’s totally different than the way he smiles at Nie Mingjue! It’s soft and genuine and smitten and overwhelmed all at once, like he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have this—and it’s not like Nie Mingjue doesn’t agree, because that is, in fact, the only acceptable way to think about Lan Xichen, but then Jin Guangyao turns that smile towards him and it goes all sharp and clever around the edges, and it sets his blood boiling.

“So you’re Mingjue,” Jin Guangyao says. “I thought you must be.”

“I introduced myself,” Nie Mingjue snaps. “It doesn’t take a genius.”

“Oh dear, I really riled you up, didn’t I?” Jin Guangyao laughs. “Forgive me. I couldn’t help it. You just seemed like you’d be a fun tease, and I was right.”

“Your new boyfriend is this little snake?” Nie Mingjue demands.

“Snake?” Lan Xichen repeats, surprised. “A’Yao, what did you do?”

“It was my fault,” Jin Guangyao says with sheepish contrition. “He seemed like such an honorable man, so I pushed a little.”

It isn’t actually Jin Guangyao’s fault—not really. Nie Mingjue was the one caught out unawares by a memory, but Jin Guangyao is really selling this performance to Xichen—to what end, Nie Mingjue couldn’t say. Nie Mingjue wants to drag him away and shove him up against a wall, bite at his lips. He wants him away from Xichen, but not for jealousy. It’s something else.

“I see you still matched with me, though,” Jin Guangyao says, leaning over Lan Xichen’s shoulder to peer at the scorecards.

“A’Yao,” Lan Xichen chastises, moving his arm to cover them. “Don’t pry.”

“Sorry,” Jin Guangyao says, stepping back immediately, and Nie Mingjue can almost believe him. “Old habits.”

“Well, the secret’s already out,” Lan Xichen says with a small huff of chuckle. “I still have to put the rest of these into spreadsheets and crossreference them, so why don’t the two of you go participate in the Faire for a little while? Since you matched and all.”

“I think that would be lovely,” Jin Guangyao says before Nie Mingjue can protest. He smiles beatifically. “We could get… something to eat.” His tongue darts out between his lips.

“I’m having dinner with Xichen,” Nie Mingjue growls.

Jin Guangyao’s smile only grows more wicked. “Just a quickie, then.”

—

* jgy is 100% lying about not remembering nmj because he’s a little shit. he DID give more than one blowjob behind the smithy tent, but just one, and it was lxc :D

* didn’t get around to this, but jgs is definitely the chair of the chinese school and also the reason why it’s so terrible bc it’s hating jgs hours all the time in this house

* all of these characters are part of some larger xianxia RP group that have a presence at the ren faire, and the sects exist kind of nominally as like…. factions?? or something??? vaguely split along the original families that decided to start participating—so meng yao was wearing nie colors, but nmj didn’t recognize him bc he was a new recruit or whatever. don’t ask me. I don’t know what goes on at a ren faire. i’ve been to woefully few in my life :(

(prompt list || other ficlets || ko-fi)

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darling-i-read-it · 5 years

Text

Ice Cream

Jack Thompson x reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: slight insinuation to smut but not really

Author’s Note: When I first watched this show I didn’t have a blog and there were no fics for Jack and so everytime someone like you requests for him I get so excited. Younger me would have loved us let me tell you :) I hope you enjoy thank you for being so kind!

Requested: by @allhailloki Hey, i don't know if you still do it but I'd like to request Jack Thompson x reader, husband wife sort of imagine, just fluffy, like maybe a dinner with his old boss or something. Sorry for bothering if you don't do that anymore. Thanks. Sending you lots of love ❤️

Summary: the request!

Genre: FLUFF

Song:

(not my gif)(I love this gif sm)

“Did I tell you Roger Dooley was coming to dinner with us?” Jack asked as he entered the kitchen. You didn’t even know he had come back from work yet so his voice startled you and you stirred dinner in a hot pot.

“Geez honey you need to give me a warning. What happened to good ol’ ‘Honey I’m home!’?” you asked, turning to look at him. He smiled his sly smile.

“I apologize.” He walked out of the kitchen door and you were trying to read what he was doing before you heard the front door open and close.

“Did he just leave?” you whispered to yourself, turning the corner to go get him. By the time you got to the door he was opening it and he placed his hat on the coat hanger.

“Honey I’m home,” he teased, placing his hands on your cheeks and leaving a kiss on your lips. You rolled your eyes but still laughed. Married 5 years and he still managed to make you laugh. You turned to walk back to the kitchen before dinner burned.

“Now what was it you were saying when you scared me?” you asked, wiping your hands on your apron. He followed you and leaned against the counter as you went back to cooking.

“Roger Dooley is going to have dinner with us. Him and his wife.” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m making dinner right now I thought we weren’t going out tonight,” you said. Jack shrugged.

“Just put it in the fridge I got us reservations at that little joint downtown you like so much.” He knew exactly how to get you to succumb to his will and bribing you with food from your favorite restaurant was one that never failed.

You looked in the bowl and sighed but poured it down the sink anyway.

“I could have sworn you said we weren’t eating out this week so you could stay fit for future missions,” you pointed out with a small teasing grin. He gave you a look but you were already taking off your apron before he could counter your words with his. “When are reservations?” you asked, eyeing his lips.

“6.”

“Plenty of time to see if you’re fit enough to go to dinner tonight I think.”

When you walked into the restaurant the waiter automatically noticed you.

“The Thompsons! Your usual spots open, you want me to throw your food in?” she asked. Jack had his arm strung around your shoulder in a loving manner.

“We’re actually waiting for another couple so if you could hold off a few-”

“Jack!” Rogers voice called. You both turned around to see him and his wife approaching you.

“Scratch that,” Jack told the waiter and she nodded with a smile.

The waiter lead you to your table and you and Jack sat across from Roger and Loretta. You had met them at an old work function before you and Jack had gotten married but it had been a long time.

Roger retired, leaving Jack with his old job which neither of you quite minded. He got paid better and was able to work his own hours as his own boss.

“I can’t believe Jack ran into you today its been so long,” you said with a smile. You were used to being the chiefs wife now, doing it for Jack as best you could. Jack put his hand on top of yours as they rested on the table.

“It was perfect, I got to see how terrible he was at my job,” Roger joked and Jack rolled his eyes chuckling.

“How do you find being such an important wife?” Loretta asked curiously. Jack leaned in a tad, to hear your answer.

“Do you have more dinner options because he skips lunch and if we’re at functions he talks more than he eats the food provided,” you said seriously with a slight sarcastic tone. She nodded, knowing just what you meant.

“You see you have to make sure that he doesn’t get whisked away by some people,” she began.

The dinner went on well after that, Jack and Roger comparing notes on the more arrests they made than the other as the years went on and you and Loretta jokes around about how much your husbands were a hassle.

When dinner wrapped up and you said your goodbyes Jack placed his arm on your waist again. The two of you walked to the ice cream parlor across the street in the moonlight, using each other as support.

You sat together alone, licking at ice cream cones in the dimly lit parlor.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispered. You shrugged. Somewhere on the way there you had stolen Jacks suit jacket to cover your red and black dress.

“I was glad we got to eat out. It was no problem,” you told him. You played with his finger as you ate and you felt like you did when you first got married. Despite Jack being headstrong and you being stubborn enough yourself you rarely fought.

“In fact I’m glad we came. We can’t get ice cream like this anywhere closer to the house,” you told him. He grinned.

“It's like you’re still a child,” he pointed out and you watched him eat his ice cream.

“You got a bigger cone than me.”

“Because I am an adult and adults get bigger cones,” he fought. You giggled, taking his free hand in yours. You moved his wedding ring with your finger and sighed contently.

“Man I love you,” he muttered. Your eyes met his and you blushed as though he hadn’t told you that a million times before.

“You have ice cream on your face.”

All day: @swanky-batman @caswinchester2000 @alexander-reformed

#jack thompson oneshot #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson imagines #agent carter imagines #marvel imagines

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ducktracy · 4 years

Text

146. don’t look now (1936)

release date: november 7th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: tex avery (egbert), berneice hansell (cathleen, bear cubs), tommy bond (devil, cupid cuckoo bird), martha wentworth (woman woodpecker), billy bletcher (devil cuckoo bird)

the first of quite a few cartoons where tex avery has supplied his own voice. the only other directors i can think of who have done voices in cartoons are bob clampett (who was also the source of the famous BEOWIP/BOIP sound effects) and cal howard (who would voice gabby in clampett’s get rich quick porky. ironically, tex avery would supply his laugh in a cal howard and cal dalton cartoon, porky’s phoney express.) regardless—it’s valentine’s day, and cupid is itching to do some matchmaking. but, as isaac newton taught us, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. in this case, a little devil is the opposite reaction, ready to break some hearts.

it’s valentine’s day, as indicated by a valentine card popping up on the screen reading “will you be my valentine?” fade to a beautiful layout of dan cupid’s humble abode, a fittingly heart shaped home, mailbox... even the butterflies flittering about have noticeably heart shaped wings. the interior is no different than the exterior: cupid’s asleep in his heart shaped bed, when a heart shaped cuckoo bird pops out of a heart shaped cuckoo clock, calling “time’s a-wastin’!”

cupid wakes up in an instant and bounds over to his exposed shower (reminiscent of a chemical shower in your local biology lab), quickly dousing himself one water and toweling off. he pulls his arrow holder out from the umbrella stand, tearing off a page of the calendar. “well! st. valentine’s day! my big day!” a cute and clever visual as cupid heads outside, right to his garden, where rows of arrows sprout up from the soil. cupid grabs his lawn mower and makes his way across the field, the arrows neatly piling into his holster over his head.

a good bit of personality is exuded as cupid prepares for the big day with some target practice. first, he shoves a pile of playing cards inside a toaster. he pulls the lever down with his foot, and as he engages in his airborne game of 52 pickup, he shoots numerous arrows at the cards, pinning them all against a tree in the shape of a heart, with an ace of hearts right in the middle. to further display some naïve pride (bordering cockiness), cupid fires an arrow through a hole in the tree, the arrow curving and returning to him through a hollow log. placing an apple on his head in the meantime, cupid still manages to hit his target successfully. and for good measure, he engages in a quick round of a duck shooting carnival game. he pings all of his wooden ducks down in an instant, save for one, who panics and attempts to flee the arrow. nevertheless, he too gets hit. an amusing gag with a good balance of cute and funny. satisfied, cupid embarks, leaving a sign on his front gate that reads GONE HUNTING.

meanwhile, we have a very clever parallel with a strong sense of juxtaposition. now focus on a little devil cherub, whose house is almost exactly like cupid’s, though adorned with foreboding, “evil” furniture, including an asbestos pillow. his cuckoo clock, a boiler, opens up to reveal a billy bletcher voiced bird who announces “crime marches on!” the devil awakens and hops out of his bed, which is actually one giant frying pan (or burner, or grill, or whatever you want to call it.) he too takes a shower, bathing in the cool, refreshing red hot flames pouring out of the shower head. already the parallels are humorous and clever, heightened by how obvious they are. the devil repeats the same calendar shtick as cupid, declaring “well! st. valentine’s day! my big day!” outside, the devil’s mood isn’t nearly as cheery as cupid. he scoffs at the audience, kicking a line of cans with malice as he trudges along. “aw, this valentine day gag is the bomb! love, kisses, sweethearts, sissy stuff!”

regardless of opinion on valentine’s day, it’s undeniable that love is in the air, as displayed by two flirtatious turtles, the guy begging for the girl’s affection. thankfully, cupid is just around the corner. cupid launches into “don’t look now”, detailing about how happy lovebirds will be once struck with his fated arrows. while the doting turtle is in the midst of a maurice chevalier impression, his girl gets struck by cupid’s arrow, and suddenly reciprocates his feelings, literally diving into the frontside of the turtle’s shell. smooth and highly amusing animation as the two turtles swing around together in one turtle shell envelope, picking up the lyrics. a gag that would be similarly used to a higher degree in tortoise wins by a hare, the two lovebirds walk side by side in the shell, both going inside and popping out the other end, now walking on their hands, their heads sticking out where their tail(s) should be and their legs where the head(s) should be. very smooth and subtle animation. i’m not too great with my animator indemnifications this early, but i’d guess chuck jones animated this scene, seeing how fluid it is.

jolly little cupid sings a few more bars, when the devil joins in, ready to spread his own love. two yokel bears bashfully dote on a log, ripe for the devil’s picking. the male bear (named egbert), voiced by tex avery, guffaws “will ya—gosh, huh huh, will ya—“, interrupted by berneice hansell’s squeaky voice urging him to go on. just in time for the devil to swoop in, whispering in the girl’s ear: “will ya go sit on a tack, ya old horse face?”

it seems there was either a cut made here, or just a startlingly awkward transition as we jump cut to the devil laughing, the woman and the log out of screen. “i’ve got something here that’ll fix these lovesick mugs! take a gander at this!” the devil takes off his bowler hat and shows off the inside contents: blonde hairs, lipstick, bobby pins, and even a garter, all tucked away in little pouches pinned inside the hat. delightfully scandalous and just a great premise in general.

elsewhere, a woodpecker knocks on the door of a quaint little tree home (with his beak, of course.) out steps a lady woodpecker (presumably his wife), to which the husband holds up a card, nudging his sweetie. “hey, how do ya like to be my valentine, kiddo?” “do ya mean it?” “yes, i mean it!” the wife looks at the audience. “should i tell him?” just then, the devil pops up behind the man’s shoulder, gingerly placing a strand of blonde hair on his coat. the giant, oval shaped eyes of the devil give this scene away as bob clampett animation. the lovebirds embrace... but not for long. the wife takes note of the hair and grows rightfully furious, throwing a barrage of pots and pans at her double crossing husband. cupid happens to be strolling by, noticing the clamor. a simple fire of the arrow and the wife is back to her loving self, both woodpeckers happily kissing as they repeatedly peck each others beaks with hilarious speeds (and great jackhammer sound effects), so powerful that both of their beaks become bent and crumpled.

cupid’s next victim is a forlorn skunk, moping on a tree trunk. cupid pings her with his arrow, and in no time the little skunk is as giddy as ever. she saunters up to the local stand selling valentines, cooing “hello boys!” in an instant, the crowd disperses, leaving the poor skunk all to herself. tex avery would base a whole cartoon on the unsuccessful love lives of skunks with his short lil ‘tinker at MGM in 1948. to gain the affections of the girls, ‘tinker puts on his best frank sinatra impression, and the bobbysoxers swarm in droves.

back to egbert, the hayseed bear who desperately attempts to woo back his snooty girlfriend cathleen, strutting by with her nose in the air while he insist she’s got him in the wrong. cupid comes to the rescue once more, pinging both bears with his arrows. timing is hilariously succinct as they both pause a beat, dumbfounded, and then instantly exclaim “LET’S GET MARRIED!” with that, they rush away to prepare for the big celebration.

after a time card that simply states “so—“, egbert strolls up to the front door of cathleen’s house, now donning a snazzy suit. he knocks on the door. “are ya ready, sweetie?” “just a minute!” cathleen may not be ready, but the devil sure is. he goes full out, tossing hairs, garters, bobby pins, lipstick marks, you name it. cathleen opens the door, sporting her wedding dress, when she finds her husband to be decked in every scandalous clue imaginable. a closeup reveals even more dirty yet fantastic details: panty hose, burlesque tickets, a phone number, a garter, and a face covered in lipstick. the entire situation is amplified in humor as egbert is completely unaware of his appearance. cathleen prepares to wallop egbert over the head with her bouquet, but another arrow from an offscreen cupid sends her down on egbert instead, practically sucking his face off.

the devil is absolutely fed up with cupid’s meddling. “aw, hey, what’s the gag of ruining my fun!? ya sissy!” he three stooges (i’m coining that as a verb now) cupid, poking him in the eyes and slapping him silly, picking him up above his head and twirling him around before slamming him to the ground and sitting on top, pulling cupid’s leg as he cries out in pain. in retaliation, cupid fashions the devil’s tail like an arrow, shooting him with his bow and sending the devil flying into a tree, who curses at cupid incomprehensibly. his work now done, cupid leaves the devil to his miserable, temperamental self.

to quote hank williams, wedding bells are ringing in the chapel as egbert and cathleen march into the church, surrounded by a doting crowd. just as they stroll down the aisle, the devil is finally able to dislodge his tail from the tree, ready to spark mischief. he approaches two kids outside of the church, bribing them each with lollipops. “okey dokey. now, here’s your candy. all you gotta do is go in the church and say...”

we cut to the inside of the church before getting the full gist of the devil’s bribe, which is a lovely choice in set up. the officiator is asking the audience for any objections, while egbert shakes terribly, his legs knocking together in panic. even the organ is silent. no objections. content, egbert and cathleen exchange warm smiles, going in for the kiss, when...

“daddy! daddy! daddy!” the two little bear cubs from before bound into the church, jumping right into a befuddled egbert’s arms. all bets are off on the wedding as cathleen storms out, dismissively throwing the bouquet in egbert’s face. a lovely detail as he still attempts to catch it hopelessly. the devil is absolutely thrilled, laughing in hysterics at his best job yet. unfortunately, he’s finally beat by his nemesis: cupid fires an arrow at the devil, and he too is struck with the love bug, his sour demeanor now replaced as he giddily floats along, grinning in a giant self parody of himself. what i love about tex’s cartoons is that everything feels like a parody of itself. it’s one extreme or the other.

for the final time, cathleen is zinged again with cupid’s arrow, and she rushes back to egbert, kissing him and dragging him back in the church. activities are resumed as normal, the officiator going on like before. “i now pronounce you... uh oh.” he dives into a nearby pew, everyone turning their heads to see what the matter is. no time is wasted as everyone else takes cover, too. now donning a top hat and bib, the devil strolls down the aisle with the little lonely skunk from before. iris out.

a very entertaining cartoon that takes a little while to get momentum, but once it’s there it’s certainly there. it’s not too often you find a valentine’s day cartoon at warner bros (the only other one i can think of is frank tashlin’s the stupid cupid.) this certainly is a non traditional take, and a very good one at that. the scandalous humor was the best part of the short, whether it be the devil decking out egbert in garters and blonde hairs, or convincing two little kids to shout “daddy! daddy!” in the church. while the beginning was a bit slow, the parallels make up for it, and at least contribute some added interest. in all, a cartoon that’s worth watching, especially for the second half.

link!

#lt #don’t look now #reviews #long post #avery

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jeawrites · 5 years

Text

BBS Derby AU: Important Others

The final bits of fun facts and some info for this AU! I might start writing an actual story here in a bit too, so look out for that!

Anthony-

Nicknamed by the team Jiggly Panda.

He’s the coach, not even that strict of one but he is very committed.

He owns the skate park the team practices at! He was also the one to pitch the idea of starting a derby team to his most regular skater (and really good friend) Tyler.

The team loves him, they will fight for him. And, he will fight for them (even though he’d rather not).

He’s the one who convinced Evan to join.

“It’s just like hockey- except no ice, no sticks or pucks, and you go in a circle the whole time!”

Used to play when he was younger (that’s how he met Brock).

Very competitive when it comes to important bouts. Don’t question him.

The team got him and Brock customized varsity jackets with their respective names on the back and the team’s logo on the front. He nearly cried when he got it.

His laugh is just as noticeable as Jon’s, but his rage is a lot more iconic when its seen. He has broken clip boards.

He wears a panda hat to every bout, it’s his own symbol for the team. They all love it a lot more than they say they do.

Brock-

Moo Snuckle, he had the name back when he played for his old team (he thought it was funny then but now its just a little embarrassing). Everyone just calls him Moo.

He’s the bench coach! He helps sort out everyone on who’s going out onto the track and whatnot. If it’s not a bout, he’s usually just the assistant coach.

Was brought onto the team by Anthony- he got a facebook message late one night.

‘Wanna help coach a bunch of dumbasses with my dumbass?’

He’s really patient with them all. Helps calm down people if they start to get frustrated. Most infamously, he calmed Tyler down after he threw his helmet off and broke it. It took him five minutes and a shit ton of crappy puns.

Brings in extra water for everyone during bouts, makes sure everyone eats before they practice (messages them an hour and a half before hand so they can snack on something healthy).

There's a joke running through the team about him and getting angry. It’s mostly just comparing him to a werewolf.

On that note, it takes a lot to make Brock angry, so the moment he snaps it’s usually pretty unsettling and you know you’ve screwed up then.

He only got that way once when it was really noticeable, and it was during a bout when the refs weren’t making any correct calls (Joe and Mark excluded because they couldn’t make it that night- Joe was sick and Mark was making sure he was okay).

He actually sobbed for ten minutes after getting his jacket. He wears it to every bout.

Everytime they move up a rank in the charts Brock takes the team to dinner. He insists he can cover the pay, but everyone usually tips in anyways.

Brings extra face paint, duct tape, wheels, and other needs to bouts as a just in case.

Jaren-

Smitty!

He’s the local EMT. Goes to every bout to cover the injuries.

Was the first one to make fun of Jon for fracturing his wrist.

Nobody actually knows where he learned to be a medical professional, but nobody really questions it either.

He supports the team a lot, has actually come to a few practices to just watch and hang out with them all. He’s also gone to away bouts whenever he can.

Like’s to heckle the team jokingly, though he has gotten smacked a few times by Marcel and Ryan (not hard of course).

He’s actually really fun to have around too, makes a lot of good jokes and he is scarily good at timing shit. He’s helped them all at practices with that talent. He’s also pranked the entire team at least once with it.

Him and Evan both sort of bonded over being Canadian. Jiggly introduced them to each other as “fellow penguins”.

“My name’s Jaren, how aboot you, eh?”

“Evan, nice to meet you, eh.”

They both shared a few pieces about their old homes and then just sort of became friends. They both act like children sometimes though if kept in the same place together too long.

Him and Jon actually get along really well! Both of them like making weird jokes and acting out dramatic scenes.

“And with this last breath, I die!”

“Pfft- Del, oh my god, okay- Nooo!! My one true love, died to an evil oposer--- I curse you Evan for knocking my love out of play!”

The team either finds it really entertaining or really weird. Jaren was kicked out of a practice one time due to one of his and Jon’s acts, if that says anything.

Mark-

Gorillaphent!

He grew up with Luke and Jon, so of course they dragged him out to watch the sport once.

He really liked it, but he didn’t want to play it. But, the reffing seemed fun and with some encouragement he became the Banana Quads first ref!

On Halloween they have a scrimmage where he wears this ugly purple elephant trunk that he got from somewhere. Nobody wants to question it because people know thats what he wants.

Eventually Ohm gives in and questions it and he gets called on a cut he never made later that game and forced into the penalty box. It happens five more times and then Ohm is paranoid the rest of the night.

“Gorilla, please!! I did nothing wrong--”

“Are you talking back to a ref, Ohm?”

He’s kinda evil, in short.

Not really, he’s actually pretty chill, he just thought that whole ordeal would be funny (and it kind of was).

He’s unbelievably good at making calls. He’s rumoured to have eyes in the back of his head, but he’s actually just pretty observant.

He’s also pretty smart on top of that, so he can sort of tell when he’s going to need to make a specific call before it happens thanks to careful observing and knowledge.

He has a purple helmet with only two stickers, one being an elephant, the other being a sticker of his name made like a logo.

Him and Joe bully each other on a regular basis, do not interfere or you will get dragged in and become part of whatever war they may or may not be in. Its all fun and games until the two are dumping baby powder on your head.

Joe-

Dead Squirrel (he used to play for, like, a year, but that was his name for it).

He met Mark, Jon, Luke, and Ryan a year before the derby stuff started.

Was dragged onto the team by Gorilla, but he found it really fun to meet new people and the traveling wasn’t half bad! Plus, he really enjoys chasing after the Jammers, especially if his in the lead.

He wears makeup to bouts- it looks like his head’s missing a peace and a cartoonish brain is coming out (cartoonish meaning there’s not too much effort in it- not that its actually cartoonish).

Also oddly good at making calls when he’s supposed too. He catches some others might not.

He doesn’t ever get really mad, maybe over excited for the bouts. He’s never yelling out of anger though.

Luke and Gorilla are pretty protective over him. Joe’s a little more oblivious to when people are being flirty or a little too polite (he doesn’t want to be rude sometimes and tell them he’s uncomfortable, especially if he might be misreading things) that’s why his two tough derby buddies come in and save the day.

It doesn’t happen often, just once or twice a year.

He’s loyal to the team, but holds no bias when it comes to making calls. If that’s questioned the team will prove it. (Joe has been offered a few bribes once or twice but his opinion on it remains unmoved and he remains as unbiased as possible).

“Alright, I’m sayin’ it again. I am not, not going to call you out for back blocks, Marcel, quit trying to convince me and just try to not get back blocks.”

He’s the one who dumps the baby powder on people’s heads. He carries it around with him because its helps keep his bag smelling good, and it makes his skin soft.

He and Brian are the only two who care if their equipment stinks. He usually supplies Brian with his own little thing of baby powder whenever its needed.

John-

Mostly their as either an NSO or a fan. If its a home bout he’s usually an NSO.

He works the score board when he’s an NSO. When he’s a fan, he’s cheering on the team excitedly or hanging out with Jaren on the side.

He’s really laid back until he’s yelling at the team in excitement.

“Yeah! Kick their asses ohm, you’re doing great!”

Ryan tried to get him on the team, along with Scotty and Tyler, but they were all denied.

He does go skating with them on open skate nights though. He just prefers to keep it more casual than competitive.

The team all chipped in to get him some custom ring with the team's name carved into it and a new vape. It was a present to him for being their number one fan.

He really liked the gift, wouldn’t stop smiling the rest of that day.

Got an honorary jersey with the name Kryoz (he got to pick it). He wears it to every bout he’s a fan at.

He’s the one who suggests they throw an end of season party to celebrate everything they did that year. He’s also the one who gets stuck planning it out sense he made the idea, but he does convince Ryan, Tyler, Marcel, and Anthony to help out.

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