Tumgik
#chat is now speculating whether he even noticed he went down and if he's just rambling to himself in his office
rackartyg · 2 years
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truly these zoom lectures are something else. extremely rambly, and just now, like twenty minutes into the lecture, the lecturer's zoom crashed and i became the host of the meeting
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kodaiki · 2 years
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[7:30 P.M.] [continuation of this]
bakugo trudges into his dorm room, pushing open the scratched up up door from previous university residents who gave zero shits about the end of semester fine their bill would be slapped with.
“there y’are!” kirishima looks over his shoulder from digging into an overnight bag, raising a brow at the shorter blonde who also happens to be his roommate. “we were wondering where you went off to.”
“took a walk for a bit,” bakugo answers absentmindedly, walking toward his small dresser on his side of the room, plopping his keys and phone onto it. he begins pulling open drawers, mentally debating if he should shower now and just pass out or wait ‘til morning before class.
kirishima nods in response as if that was a normal occurrence for bakugo, which it sort of was. whether it be to escape social interaction or to cool off, the guy often times left to go outside for a walk or jog.
bakugo mentally notes that his friend doesn’t ask about you. not that he needs to, really. he and you weren’t necessarily a close pair and when you’d left the lounge with or without announcement, it’s a little difficult to imagine the pair of you hanging out alone.
but then there you were, together, on a long hour walk, chatting the sun setting sky away, misty air becoming more prominent as your cheeks and noses reddened. the echoes of your complaints about the winter air make bakugo roll his eyes, less in distaste but more in subtle amusement.
still, bakugo isn’t sure if the other didn’t care about your whereabouts or he hadn’t even noticed your absence from the group.
“i was with y/n,” he cuts the silence in the room, minus the zipping and shuffling of kirishima’s duffel.
“oh!” kirishima says, a little louder. “i was wondering about her, too,” he trails off unconvincingly.
bakugo grits his teeth, seeing through – more like, hearing through – his lie. he knew he wasn’t wondering about you. but he hums anyway, in a way of acknowledgment, and he thinks his friend is too thick headed to read through the insincerity of it.
“where are you going?” bakugo asks, instead of prying the truth out of him since he already knows what that is. he turns to face the taller man, looking rather unimpressed – then again, it was his resting face to look aloof – but speculative at his behavior.
“huh?” kirishima turns his head to realize bakugo’s facing him. “oh,” he bashfully smiles, making the other man’s frown deepen. “ochako’s.”
“hm,” bakugo hums again, remembering your conversation in the back of his mind. your frowns, your broken smiles, you glistening eyes. your tears. “staying over?”
“most likely,” kirishima chuckles, maybe a little embarrassed to be talking about it with bakugo. it’s not like bakugo is usually so observant over his friendship – what a flexbile term that is – with uraraka, so it’s a little unsettling. fortunately, the blonde doesn’t let the redhead wonder whatever’s on his mind.
“y/n misses you, you know.”
kirishima’s throat runs dry.
“uh- well, with ochako, i haven’t got time to spend-”
“that’s not what i mean and you know it,” bakugo grunts, crossing his arms. he’s always been outside the situation you’ve been in with kirishima; always looking in from the outside and being observant. “you know she cares about you.”
sure, you considered the redhead your closest friend of the bunch and you had a crush on him, but bakugo saw more than that. he wouldn’t call his best friend a manwhore, he really wouldn’t, because he knows, deep down, the kid has a good heart. but kirishima is probably one of the most emotionally manipulative men he’s ever met when it comes to women.
bakugo remembers when kirishima introduced you to the friend group, holding you by the shoulders as you gave everyone a shy, small smile – a smile bakugo wasn’t even aware could go as wide as lifting your cheeks – and wave to match. it was easy to spot you’d already been smitten with the man, as you were glued to him during that hangout before you got more comfortable around the others.
deep down, bakugo wished you were a little like kirishima and denki, in the way that they practically forced him to be they friend, since he still was a little uncomfortable going out of his own comfort zone. but you weren’t, you aren’t, like that; you bid him graceful smiles, easy going waves and small talk.
maybe you were unsure how to approach him, since he knew you weren’t exactly shy either; he was fully aware how exciting your personality could get, when around the right people.
and maybe he just gave off the aura that you should be wary and walk eggshells around him.
bakugo was almost sure that you’d end up dating the redhead, from how he used to rave about you when you weren’t around. but then a few weeks passed and, like the time, his feelings passed, too. 
“c’mon bro, you know how i feel about her.”
“yeah, but she doesn’t,” bakugo snaps, eyebrows furrowing deeper than they naturally were.
“shit, you didn’t tell her, did you?”
“of course i didn’t, dipshit.”
kirishima blows out a breath of relief. “good ‘cus me ‘n ochako are sorta hanging out now-” at the look bakugo sends him, he quickly clarifies, “-not like that! but we’re just, hanging out, and it might be more... but it also may not! so-”
“so you’re avoiding telling y/n you’re not into her right now because of uraraka and if that doesn’t work out, you’ll be hers again?” at kirishima’s lack of response, he spits, “that’s fucked up. especially for you.”
kirishima’s babbling out a response, probably excusing his actions like some toxic character from euphoria™ would, but bakugo’s not paying attention, because his phone buzzes from atop his dresser, lighting the dimly lit dorm room.
[7:41 P.M.] y/n: thanks for the chat, rlly needed that [7:41 P.M.] y/n: have a good night! :)
he’s been reminding himself that it’s not his place to tell, they aren’t his feelings to tell but god, if bakugo doesn’t want to storm to your dorm right now and tell you the rest. because he cares. he fucking cares.
[7:43 P.M.] bakugo: gn.
-
bakugo goes to bed feeling guilty. and worst part?
he knows kirishima doesn’t.
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i love kiri, i do🥹🥹 but damn villainizing him🫣 also idk if the last line makes sense but it’s that kiri doesn’t go to bed feeling guilty :’)
no taglist. (don’t ask)
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anonquack · 3 years
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| Chef Q |
Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot, Requested by: @anotherdreamsimp !!
Word Count: 3328
Warnings: Some curse words, mainly just some fluff !
Summary: Quackity hasn't been streaming recently, and decides to come back with a cooking stream. Featuring you as a special guest.
Lately, Quackity had been studying like crazy for his final exams. That meant no streaming. He'd take a break from it to focus entirely on his studies. Absolutely nothing else.
He claimed to have his priorities straight, and had the goal to pass all exams with high scores in order to keep his grades looking wonderful.
This also meant there was rarely any time spent between you two, beside the occasional snack breaks you forced him to take so he wouldn't die at his desk.
It was tough not being able to show him a random video you'd found on the timeline, or walking up to chat with him whenever you wanted, but you knew this was very important to him. So you gladly supported him and offered as much support as possible.
Thankfully, all of his studying paid off and he passed with flying colors. A teacher had even informed him that he'd received the top score for one of his final exams.
You were the first person to hear the news, and you couldn't help but feel the adoration coursing through your body at how excited he was to tell you. Jumping up and down and shaking you lightly as he told you about his scores.
You'd offered to take him out for a celebratory meal, to treat him for all his hard work and also since you missed the fun outings with him. There was no way he was saying no to that.
After a day out and about, you two had made your way back home. Both of you were pleasantly full, having enjoyed the meal and also dessert. His request, for "doing so well on his finals." How could you possibly deny him that?
You both were also very content, a warmth and comfort surrounding the air around you two the entirety of the outing.
One thing that was impossible not to notice was how he'd become exceptionally clingy as soon as you two were out of the car. Gripping onto your hand tightly as you singlehandedly unlocked the front door.
"I've missed you so much these past few days." He murmered as you finally got the door to open and pulled him inside.
"I've missed you too." You hummed softly. It was always nice hearing him say these things. You locked the front door, and gently pulled at his hand to lead him back to your room.
It didn't take much of a pull for him to willingly follow you. "Can we cuddle or something?" He asked softly, almost as if he was a bit embarrassed to ask. You turned to him and gave him a grin, along with a small nod.
You'd missed him, even if you two had been in the same apartment this whole time. You'd especially been missing cuddles with him, considering he studied pretty much all day. There wasn't enough time being shared together so you gladly agreed to some cuddling.
Sooner than later, you two found yourselves in your pajamas, laying in bed peacefully as you scrolled through tiktok, screen tilted in order for him to see as well. It really was so nice finally being able to be this close to him again.
After some time, you found yourself looking through tweets on the timeline. A certain one caught his attention and he asked you to stop scrolling.
It was a tweet from a fan, saying they missed Quackity since he hadn't streamed in two weeks, but that overall they hoped his tests were going fine.
"Has it really been 2 weeks?" He asked aloud as he clicked on it and looked through the replies, all agreeing with the original tweet.
"Mm.. two and a half, I think." You answered, looking at him curiously as a guilty expression appeared on his face.
"Hey." You called out once you saw the expression wasn't leaving. He turned to you with a small frown.
"It's fine. You had a good reason for being gone so long. I'm sure they understand. Plus, you'll be back soon, right?" You asked, to which he nodded before sitting up from the cuddling position you two were in.
You sat up as well, noticing how his eyes widened slightly, and a small smile made its way onto his face.
"I just got a great idea." He exclaimed. "Y'know, I was going to just spend the next few days with you since I missed you but– how about we stream something together? That way I can enjoy both, and the fans get a stream too."
You stared at him in surprise. The fans did know he was dating someone, but you rarely ever came out on streams, not because he didn't want you to but because you didn't deem it to be necessary.
The few times you had been on, you'd received tons of love and support from the chat, so you didn't think anything too bad would happen if you were to appear on his stream again.
"What did you have in mind?" You asked curiously. The other times you'd been on were him playing horror games and an extremely scuffed IRL stream.
"Well.. I haven't done a cooking stream in a while." He began, but you quickly shook your head.
"Oh no. Don't tell me you're going to make us eat some monstrosity‐ like your past cooking streams." You visibly shuddered at the thought. You remember having to help clean up the mess after. And no matter how funny it had been, the actual cleanup was awful.
"No no– I was thinking maybe we do a serious one, y'know? Chat hasn't really been able to see my cooking abilities, and well.. I'd say I am pretty good at it." He grinned. He was unfortunately right.
You relaxed at the mention of it being a 'serious' cooking stream. It could never really be too serious when it came to Quackity, but it meant not eating dog food or poorly made pizza. You were in.
"So we'll make an actual.. edible.. meal?" You questioned again, just to be sure. To which he nodded.
"Yeah, and we can enjoy that meal after. Like a date. What do you say?" He was beaming. It was his creativity rolling in. And he was probably so proud of himself for finding a way to spend time with you yet also give chat the stream content they'd been missing out on.
"Alright. I'm in."
You hadn't seen him this eager to get out of bed and head to the grocery store ever before. Chat was really in for a fun stream tomorrow.
He'd tweeted it out several hours before you two planned on starting the stream that he'd be streaming today with a special guest, and that he had his chef hat ready to go.
As you scrolled through Twitter you could see the timeline freaking out over 'COOKING STREAM' and 'SPECIAL GUEST'. Lots of discussion over who it was.
You couldn't help but feel a bit bad since the fans were probably speculating that he'd met up with his online friends, but in reality it was just you. In that case, you'd try your best to make this a fun stream, and your presence an enjoyable one.
As the time for the stream to start got closer, you helped him set the ingredients you'd be using onto the table, in a way where it was in perfect view for the stream to see and follow along if they wished.
"We're supposed to start in 5." You called out as he slipped his beanie on, fixing the few hair strands that were sticking out a bit too much.
He smiled and made his way over to you, cupping your face and giving you a small kiss. "I'm so excited to do some cooking with you. They're all going to love you."
You couldn't help the warm feeling that spread over your chest at his words. It was like introducing you all over again. He'd recently gained a lot of new followers, and that meant they probably had no idea who you were. Always fun going through that again.
He dealt with some last minute editing and placing, checking all ingredients were there and that everything was set, before hitting the 'Go Live' button.
It didn't take long for the viewers to increase after the tweet notification went out, and the starting soon screen was the only thing really protecting you two from the roaring chat.
Everyone was dying to know what was going on, who the special guest was, and whether this would be yet another scuffed cooking stream.
You stood behind the camera as the starting soon screen finally disappeared and he began greeting the viewers, thanking all the subs coming in, and eventually also giving them a little update on how he'd done on his exams.
You felt so proud as you watched him boast about how his studying had paid off, and how he talked about being the happiest he'd been in a while. He deserved all of it. And chat thought so too.
After some rambling about his test scores and what they'd be cooking today, chat finally became too impatient and asked for a reveal of the special guest.
"Fine. Fine. Since you guys are so fucking impatient." He huffed, watching as chat flew by, telling him to 'get on with it' and to 'TELL US WHO IT IS'. You couldn't help but laugh at the relationship he had with his chat. Always bullying each other but usually knowing when to stop and send love.
"I've actually had them on multiple other streams, not so much recently.. but they've been on my horror streams.. some IRL streams.. and they are really really special to me, chat!" He said with a big smile. Some of chat was confused as to who he was referring to, while older fans began to question if it was YOU. They were very smart.
"Some of the viewers might not know of them, so this is like I'm introducing them to chat all over again! Come over here." He finally directed the last part at you. You couldn't help but feel the sudden spike in anxiety, but chose to ignore it as you smiled back at him and headed into the frame beside him.
With a small wave and a greeting, you watched as chat completely broke. A mess of question marks and your name being spread in chat. You couldn't help but laugh. It was an overwhelmingly positive reaction as Quackity explained to new viewers that you were his partner, and that older fans were already aware of this for a while now.
The amount of 'y/n our beloved' and people asking if quackity's partner was single were abundant in chat, and you couldn't help but feel stupid for thinking the newer viewers would hate you or something.
Having the approval of Quackity's chat also made you feel lighter, it made it easier to let go and just enjoy the cooking stream.
You two began to explain what you'd be cooking to chat, and you made it very clear that he actually had to try and cook this time, to which chat agreed wholeheartedly.
He'd taken a recipe from his mom for one of his favorite meals, one he hadn't had in a while. He explained to chat that he wanted to see how well you and him could recreate it until you two took a trip to visit his family.
"Hopefully we don't disappoint her too much." You mumbled as he placed the chef hat onto your head, fixing it so you looked presentable.
"She can't be because we're actually gonna try." He stated before beginning to explain to chat what the meal was since many of them might not have even heard of it before. As he did that, you began to set aside the ingredients you wouldn't be needing until later.
After everything had been explained, it was time to get cooking. His concentration to try and recreate his mom's recipe was adorable, and chat agreed on that too.
This stream wasn't loud and messy like the others, but it was still enjoyable in its own way. Quackity was radiating such wonderful light and energy, cracking jokes and genuinely enjoying himself. It was all thanks to the stress and worries being lifted off his back. You really enjoyed seeing him like this.
Chat was able to follow along later if they wanted with how organized you guys were being, but the banter he had with you and chat made it entertaining to any casual viewer. He always found a way to make it fun.
Not only that, but chat was able to see a new side of him. The Chef Q side. More often than not, a message would roll in saying they were amazed by how good Quackity actually was at cooking. You could already imagine some of the edits that'd come out of the stream.
His mom had told you two beforehand how long it would normally take to cook this meal, and it was perfect for a usual stream and some extras where you two would actually get to try the food.
There was moments where chat was warning you two that the food would burn or that he'd accidentally set the kitchen on fire, but overall you were enjoying yourself so much.
And chat was enjoying your presence too!
By the time you two managed to finish the meal, you both plopped down onto the chairs he'd set for the supposed 'breaks'.
He had some of the sauce on his cheek and his apron, but still managed to look good. He'd also smeared sauce onto your cheek, and at this point some strands were sticking out of your hat in such a messy way since the last few minutes had been rather hectic, food almost burning and all.
"Chat. We did it." He called out before cheering loudly and clapping his hands, to which you swiftly followed along, chat beginning to cheer as well.
"I think its only right that we try what we made, don't you think?" You ask, to which chat quickly types YES in all caps, wanting to see the finished product and also find out if it even tastes good.
Quackity let out a chuckle as he smiled over at you. "Not gonna lie, I'm a little nervous. We haven't even seen it so it might just be black. Burnt to a crisp. Or what if it tastes like shit? Y/N i don't know what I'm going to do if the food tastes like shit. Thats what we're supposed to eat on our date." He whined a bit.
You shook your head, "It'll be great. And if not, we can just order takeout. It'll be fine big q." You smiled reassuringly. Chat became a frenzy of calling him cute for the state he was in, declaring their love for how supportive and kind you were, and melting over your relationship.
Before you knew it, you were both revealing the meal to chat, and pleasantly surprised by the results. The presentation of the meal itself looked really good. It looked like what you'd expect from such a plate. Quackity had even gone as far as saying it looked similar to how his mom made it.
You gasped, smiling in surprise at him. "Really? Did we really do that good of a job." His face turned into one of regret, and a long segment of silence engulfed you two before he nodded hesitantly. You both broke out into a fit of laughter.
"Okay okay, seriously. Chat's waiting for you to try it." You placed a fork in front of him, earning a loud scoff from him.
"They want to see you try it as well." He mirrored your actions and you gladly took the fork.
"Alright. First bite. Let's see if all our hard work paid off! Chat, are you ready?" You grinned and watched as the 'YES's started rolling in, some viewers telling you both to get the fuck on with it, and others gushing about how the food actually looked good. You could only hope.
You watched as he began to dig in, mouth full and chewing slowly, truly trying to savor the first bite. You did the same, and the stream was silent for the first time in a while. Chat was in suspense as well, question marks and incoherent rambling rolling through the chat.
"Chat..." he finally spoke after swallowing his bite. "Chat. It's." He paused before showing a small smile. "It's not bad at all. I like it. It's good."
You nodded your head in agreement, "It's nowhere near as good as the ones your mom makes.. but I think you and I make a pretty good team."
"I think so too. And not just for cooking." He grinned, earning himself a playful eye roll and shy smile from you.
The stream proceeded to you two feeding each other bites of the meal, asking each other if it was good, and just enjoying yourselves for a bit longer before Quackity deemed it was time to end.
"Chat !! Thank you so much for tuning in and watching this.. actually coordinated cooking stream. I had so much fun and well, I ate yummy food. I'm happy." He laughed, thanking a few more gifters before doing his signature Bye, and ending stream.
He hurried over to your side, pulling you into a hug. "Thank you so much. I truly had fun. And they definitely loved you, but not nearly as much as I do."
You chuckled at his words, giving him a small kiss before cupping his face. "I had a lot of fun too. Thank you for always being so nice to me." You paused, observing how cute he looked with his chef hat still on. "I think I like Chef Alex." You reached over and fixed his hat a bit.
"Yeah? Should I keep it on?" He teased, coming a bit closer. You couldn't help the warmth that spread over your cheeks at how blunt he was.
"Yes, but you need to help me clean this up. Maybe after we finish the food, hm? C'mon. Don't think I forgot our deal."
He whined, already feeling too lazy, but he quickly followed after you as you two sat down to actually eat. Still wearing the silly attire he'd bought for the stream, far too unbothered to change just yet.
Through a mouthful he asked, "Cuddles and a nap after we're done?"
You smiled and nodded, to which he gave a silent cheer. That was enough motivation to get you both up and cleaning after finishing the meal.
Wrapped in each other's arms again. He couldn't seem to get enough of it. You were once again scrolling through Twitter, this time scrolling through his indirects, wanting to see what people were saying about the stream.
He'd ask you to stop to read certain ones he found funny, and even 'aww'd at the ones he found cute, mainly those talking about how cute you two looked.
Surely enough, there was already edits using the clips of him cooking, and you'd openly admitted to him that he looked "so fucking good." To which he responded by cuddling closer, if even humanly possible.
Quackity found the numerous clips of you two feeding each other to be the best part of the tweets. You two rewatched, saved, liked as many as you could before he became tired.
And with that, he was pulling you close, and leaving small kisses anywhere he could on your face. Eventually, his chest slowly rose and fell as he entered a deep slumber. You smiled, glad to see he was finally getting the rest he deserved.
"Goodnight, Alex." You whispered, leaving a small kiss on his cheek before closing your eyes as well.
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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years
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i could make you care
[saiki kusuo x reader]
author’s note: i tried to incorporate as many characters into this as possible to make it feel like an actual episode and i got overwhelmed so fast lol i haven’t written this many characters in a story in a long time. in any case hope i did them justice and that you enjoy :’)
word count: 3,029
Today’s morning is bright, and Saiki’s walk is quiet. Typically this would be no cause for concern. A quiet walk to school is few and far between, difficult to come by given the company he keeps. (He’d much prefer a calmer bunch, if he were granted the chance to choose, but that is neither here nor there.) Don’t misunderstand: he’d bask in this brief peace, guaranteed to be broken the moment he passes through the gates of PK Academy, if the reason for this uncharacteristic period of silence comes about because of the absence of one particular person—someone who, if one could hardly believe it, Saiki actually prefers to have around more often than not.
He walks past the street which leads to your home, his pace never slowing because he expects you’ll join him, as you do every morning. You’ll wait for him on the corner and smile widely like you haven’t seen him in weeks then skip towards him, falling in step easily. He’ll remain nonplussed as you hug his arm, give it a brief squeeze as you greet him—Good morning, Kusuo!—and then promptly let go because you understand he likes his space but you just can’t help but indulge a little bit.
However, none of the aforementioned events play out this Friday. You’re not on the street corner, not there to smile and fall in step with him. There’s no arm hugging or a bubbly greeting Saiki pretends he isn’t affected by. But the truth is that he is, the routine coming somewhat as a comfort, even at the price of sacrificing some of his beloved personal space. So when you’re nowhere to be found his brows furrow and he wonders where you are.
His steps slow until he comes to a complete stop. He wants to check up on you, sooner rather than later. There isn’t much time to delay if he wants to make it to school before the first bell, but this won’t take long. He crosses his eyes, activating his clairvoyance, and he centers in on you immediately. You’re still at home. You’re at home, and you’re sick.
A box of tissues rests on your nightstand and you’ve pulled your small trash can right next to it from where it usually stands by your door. You toss used tissues into it before nestling beneath your blankets, pulling it up to just below your chin and hugging it close in order to retain heat. Your breath evens out quickly and he can tell you’re asleep. Your body must be exhausted dealing with your cold, and he’s confident this is the way you will be the rest of the day—drifting in and out of sleep, dealing with the sniffles and congestion.
He blinks and loses sight of you and now he’s staring once more down the road. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a sigh, he resumes walking and thinks about his plans for the day. As it was the last day of the school week, he’d planned to go to Cafe Mami for coffee jelly to celebrate. But now that he’s learned you’re sick in bed, he’d have to make adjustments. Momentarily he debates if that’s really necessary. You probably wouldn’t want visitors in the state you’re in, and knowing you, you’d tell him to go to the cafe without you to enjoy himself anyway. The thought is tempting, truly, yet he can’t shake the urge to check on you.
It feels less like an obligation and more like a simple desire of his own to make sure you’re okay. Saiki shakes his head, more amused than frustrated. There’s no one else for whom he would so willingly do this, or much else, for, and he doesn’t think he’d ever tell you because you’ll tease him the way you are wont to do whenever his facade cracks and he’ll let you have your fun because when you ask if you’re really so different as to make him act this way, the answer is, well, yes. You are.
He imagines this scenario and the corner of his lips lifts in a small smile. Good grief. You could be quite the handful.
“Hey, Saiki!”
Nendo’s voice is entirely too loud for the morning and Saiki heaves another sigh, one that sounds as though it belongs at the end of the day and not the beginning. Nendo is joined close behind by Kaidou and Kuboyasu, and they easily fill the silence with discussions about going to get ramen after class and the latest movements of the Dark Reunion. Saiki really only picks up words here and there that allude to the topic of conversation but it doesn’t require his full attention. It’s the same song and dance every morning.
The commotion once he arrives at school is much the same. During lectures he is afforded the temporary reprieve from having his ears talked off, since the only one speaking is the teacher, but at breaks, the noise resumes, and though he always stays sitting at his desk, in hopes the others will get the hint that he’s uninterested in chatting, they inevitably crowd themselves around it, until he is right in the middle.
Hairo has outlined a new workout regimen and in his louder than normal volume of speaking he shares it. He’s going to start it today, and if anyone wants to join, they’re more than welcome. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to take the offer, which is expected. Hairo’s exercise routines were… a little extreme.
In any case, Hairo is nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else and remarks he can’t wait for the end of the school day.
“I think I’ve been losing muscle tone,” he laments, and he complements this statement with a casual flex of his arm, more so to point out the specific areas he thinks are getting soft rather than to show off, but even if he isn’t trying, his biceps are bulging and if his sleeves hadn’t been rolled up, they would have torn.
Saiki’s brow raises. Yeah… I don’t think that’s an issue for you, Hairo.
“I’ve just finished installing an indoor gym at my home, you know.”
Everyone turns to find Saiko has entered into the circle, a smug smirk on his face. When had he gotten here? Really it’s only Hairo who has any sort of reaction to this, eyes practically sparkling imagining the machines and equipment (or maybe that’s just the glare from the fluorescent classroom lights). All the same, Saiko relishes the attention, boasting of the privacy and space and how really, it’s so much easier to be productive if there’s no one else there but Saiki can only wonder if Saiko even works out at all. He doesn’t remember that being mentioned, and Saiki is nothing if not detail oriented.
Saiki doesn’t have long to ponder over this (not that it would’ve continued much longer because he doesn’t actually care about whether Saiko exercises or just set up a gym in his house to brag) before Nendo asks where you are.
Had he just noticed? You always join them on their walk in the morning. But Saiki can’t say he’s surprised it took this long. What he is surprised about is that Nendo had noticed in the first place.
“Oh that’s right,” Kuboyasu adds. “I thought she just went ahead of us today.”
Yumehara informs them of your whereabouts before Saiki does. “She texted me this morning she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed home.” Her phone dings with a new message and she glances at it, then looks back up. “But she says she’s a little more awake now!”
“It’s the Dark Reunion.” Kaidou’s sudden interjection draws everyone’s attention. He clenches his right fist, staring at the bandages wrapped around it. “They’re trying to get to me by going after my friends!”
Saiki remains expressionless but if he didn’t have such good control he would’ve rolled his eyes. Or maybe she just has a cold.
Upon Kaidou’s claim that a secret society is responsible for your illness, Saiki picks up Yumehara’s thoughts: I wish I was the one Kaidou was so worried about! Maybe if I got sick he’d worry about me too! Getting sick to grab Kaidou’s attention? That’s… going overboard, but Saiki can’t find it in him to be shocked, considering from whose mind this speculation has sprung.
“Poor [Name],” Teruhashi says, kind as always. She sets an index finger on her chin, gaze momentarily aimed upwards as she thinks. “I was about to suggest we all go to the cafe after school today and I wish she could join.”
This gives Saiki pause. Wait. The cafe?
“That sounds like a great idea!” Yumehara declares. Again Saiki hears her thoughts: If we go, I need to do my best sit next to Kaidou!
Whether a visit to Cafe Mami comes across as a good idea because it’s a fun way to celebrate the end of the school week or simply because Teruhashi suggested it, Saiki doesn’t know, but one by one the murmurs of assent resound through the group and he barely contains a relieved huff. He’d already changed his own plans from visiting the cafe to seeing you instead, and it’s a good thing too since it’s apparent his alone time would’ve been ruined. Now he has an excuse not to stick around.
Once the final bell rings, they begin their walk into town towards the cafe. The sidewalk feels crowded with all of them on it, and they have to split into pairs to keep the opposite side of the sidewalk free for people going the other way. Among comments from everyone else about how hungry they are, Saiki makes known his intention to just pick up food before leaving. There’s somewhere he needs to be.
“You’re going to go make sure [Name] is doing okay!” Teruhashi exclaims. It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s sweet of you.”
Saiki shrugs. “Sweet” is not the first word he would associate with his actions. It just seems like common sense to check on you. You’d looked miserable this morning, but he takes your message to Yumehara earlier as a good sign that you’re improving, slowly and surely. Still, he’d be more comfortable seeing you himself. He hadn’t gotten any other chances today to use his clairvoyance, but at least it wouldn’t be long now until he’d be heading to your house.
Chisato is working today and she seats everyone. Saiki goes directly to the counter to place his order—coffee jelly for him and strawberry mochi for you—and he stands off to the side while waiting for the treats to be packed. The others are sitting on the far side of the cafe (in his peripherals he sees Yumehara has taken a seat right next to Kaidou) but he can hear them clear as day discussing what food they should order. Yes, he’s certainly glad he won’t be sticking around. Spending Friday in the midst of that noise is far from ideal.
Holding the bag of coffee jelly and mochi in one hand, Saiki uses the other to push open the door, the bell jingling gently, and someone, Nendo it sounds like, raises their voice to shout across the room: Seeya later, Saiki! Then the door closes behind him, and all he can hear is the footsteps of other pedestrians and the low whoosh of cars.
He exhales slowly. Peace at last. He proceeds in the direction of your home, and when he thinks to himself that any longer and his ears might’ve begun to bleed, he’s only half joking.
In the neighborhood it’s much quieter, the only person he passes being someone walking their dog, and only a couple of cars drive past. He knocks on the door and he assumes you’re in your room and so it will take some time for you to open it, but you’re there faster than he expects. You open it just wide enough to stand in the gap, and immediately he notices the fatigue in your eyes. When you realize it’s him, they light up, and the fatigue fails to take away from the brightness of your smile as you open the door wider.
“Kusuo!”
Inside, he sees you’ve moved downstairs to the living room. That’s why you’d answered the door so quickly. There’s a pile of blankets on the couch and a tissue box on the coffee table. The television is on and playing an animation. He doesn’t recognize it, but it must be one of the new ones you mentioned wanting to watch. However, you’re not interested in it now that he's here and you grab the remote to turn down the volume.
“I thought you were going to the cafe today,” you state, head tilting.
Saiki shakes his head. Change of plans. Instead I brought the cafe to us. He holds up the bag of food and doesn’t have to tell you what’s in it. You squeal in delight that he’s come bearing treats, but the sound is a little raspy and awkward due to your sore throat. It’s still easier on Saiki’s ears than the earlier commotion he’d been surrounded with and, if he’s honest, it’s cute.
You plop down on the couch and wait as he joins you. He unties the bag and opens the box, first taking out the packaged pink mochi and handing it to you. Then he grabs his coffee jelly and the plastic spoon it came with before settling back against the cushions.
You sit cross-legged facing him and bite into your soft and squishy treat, humming delightedly. “Thanks, Kusuo.”  
Saiki chews a mouthful of coffee jelly and glances at you.
You grin and hold up the mochi. “For the snack and for coming to see me.”
He shrugs because it’s no big deal. Or, well, he tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you know him better than that, better than most others do, and don’t brush it off so quickly. You breathe out dramatically and set a hand on your chest.
“What must I have done for Kusuo Saiki to give up his quiet time for me?” Then you giggle, and  it’s punctuated at the end by a sniffle.
He tells you there would’ve been no quiet time at the cafe since the others had also decided to go, and that you’re much better company. Even when I’m sneezy? you ask him, and he chuckles. Yes, even when you’re sneezy.
His remark about coming to see you because he’d prefer to be here and not at the cafe with the rest of your friends is merely part of the truth. The rest of it is that he did genuinely want to check on you to make sure you were okay. Though to give this a voice felt like too much for someone typically so reserved in his feelings, but you understand perfectly fine as you smile softly. You’re appreciative of his actions, and it would seem Teruhashi had been right about them, for you murmur that he reminds you of the mochi you’re eating: You’re so sweet!
Grabbing your mug from the coffee table, you frown when you see it’s empty. “I ran out of tea.”
Saiki sets the spoon and now empty container back in the box then holds his hand out. You blink, momentarily confused, but when it registers what he’s doing, you give him the mug. As he stands to make his way into the kitchen, you call after him.
“Thank you!”  
Having been to your house a number of times already, he knows where everything is and starts brewing a fresh cup of tea. You’ve turned the volume up on the television again, but you have to rewind to return of the spot you were at before he’d arrived. Once he comes back with a filled mug, instead of allowing it to continue to play, you pause your show.
You’d snuggled beneath the blankets and have to finagle your arms out of the multiple layers to take the mug from him. You say thanks again and blow gently at the tendrils of steam floating from it. The ceramic is warm in the palms of your hands and you sigh contentedly.
“Sorry I’m a little high maintenance today,” you apologize suddenly. “I’d make the tea myself but I just have such little energy…”
Saiki wishes you wouldn’t apologize because there’s nothing to be sorry for. So he tells you as much. Don’t apologize. Besides, he’d offered to make that tea, and if you wanted soup, he’d offer to make that too. He does understand where you come from, however. You tend to be more independent, opting to do things yourself, and you also know his propensity for being alone and needing space. As such, you’re careful not to be overbearing, and the idea of Saiki doing even little tasks like brewing you tea bothers you.
It’s endearing, the level of care you take to make sure he’s comfortable too, but when he says you’re far from high maintenance, he means it. You immediately understand what he’s implying and laugh before scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Okay, point made,” you concede. With a small smile, Saiki grabs the remote you’d tossed down on the couch and presses play.
He would struggle to call you high maintenance on any day considering who your friends are.  They’re loud and all over the place, practically bouncing off the walls. Life could hardly be tranquil when around them and their antics. It’s the total opposite of Saiki, who values calm and silence. If they were high maintenance, he was low maintenance. That’s the way he prefers to be, existing in relative quiet and as close to mediocrity as he can muster. But he can't say he’s opposed to the occasional interruption to the otherwise mundane, especially where it concerns you. You’re not to be found on one side or the other, but right in the middle, and to Saiki, you are just right.
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stephspurs · 3 years
Text
A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction
Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...
EEEEEEK here's part two!!! Part two sees more of Amelia's beautiful brain, the love she has for her team, and her brother, & her friendship with Kyle Walker. Hope you guys love it as much as i do - please let me know what you think - i'd love to hear from you all!
Love always,
Steph xx
UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!
Part 2. | seconda parte
warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.
word count; 1469
writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.
next update; Wednesday 28/07 5pm AEST. Updates are twice weekly (Sunday & Wednesday)!
Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex
link to fic masterlist here
11 July 2021 | The Final Match.
The players for both national teams lined up side by side down the tunnel. Chiellini & Kane, both confident in their teams ability, captaining with great authority and mentorship for the ten men stood behind them. Amelia stood at the back of the tunnel, watching the scene ahead of her. Her dad, walking up the centre aisle between the two teams, shaking the hands of his players, confident in his preparation. A gentle hand to her brother's shoulder, saying everything it needs to say. It was the same hand that rubbed the back of her neck as he walked past, communicating the same thing. Go your hardest, you’re ready for this.
It was her turn, she started at the back of the line, and in true Italian style, a kiss was placed to both cheeks of every player up the line. When she reached Jorginho, a player she came to appreciate for his technical mindset and intellectual approach to the game, she kissed his cheek and turned to the player opposite him - her brother, who was trying his hardest to face forward and pay his little sister no mind. She knew what he was doing, but she wasn’t as heartless as the rest of the England squad probably perceived her to be. Reaching out, she rubbed her hand along the back of his neck, just as her father did to her, leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before continuing down the line of her players to the front. Shaking hands with Gareth Southgate, who no doubt had come to realise who the girl was in relation to his team, and a kiss to both cheeks of Mr Mancini, she walked out and took her place on the bench, ready for the game of her life.
120 minutes of football later.
Life is both beautiful and cruel. Whilst she hadn’t anticipated the early goal from Shaw, Amelia had predicted every play by the english and made sure her team was there waiting for them to turn and run. They knew to never let Harry Kane have the space to move the ball, to make sure Mason Mount was marked at all times and to pay attention to the silky smooth skills of Raheem Sterling. They knew that every player on the english side had the talent and skill to shoot and score, no matter if they're a striker or full back. In the end, the endless taunts from the british crowd and constant reminder of “it’s coming home” only fuelled the Italians further and pushed them harder, to their limits. Eventually both sides met with equal force and completed extra time at a draw, leading to penalties. All of Amelia’s preparation with Gianluigi Donnarumma would present itself now. She went over the preferred sides of the penalty takers she presumed would be stepping up for their country, and reminded him of all he has achieved & what there is still left to be done. After all, they are the masters of their own fate.
Donnarumma’s block of Bukayo Saka’s penalty rattled her bones and sent a chill down her spine. They had done it. The boys had finally brought football back to Rome for the first time since 1968, and while she can’t take all of the credit, she knows she single handedly played a part in this victory. As soon as happiness filled her body, guilt and sadness flooded her heart. She had been part of the problem that caused her brother so much pain. Her dad knew how to handle rejection, this wasn't his first rodeo, and could see with an open mind just how they had managed to achieve greatness. But her brother had truly believed they had it, that football was coming home to England.
After being surrounded by her boys, cheering and hugging her, screaming in relief that they had done it, Amelia took a step back and took a deep breath in. Looking over to the players in white consoling each other with looks of understanding and pats on the back, hugging those with the unfortunate fate of missing their penalties, she found her brother.
_____________________________________________________________
Squatting down with his elbows resting on his knees and hands covering part of his face, his eyes showing disbelief that the moment had escaped them. Jordan Henderson, the figurative big brother to my big brother, leaning down whispering what one can only assume is words of encouragement and strength to him. A voice to my right startles me, not because I wasn't used to the noise, but because it was a voice I haven't heard directed at me with anything other than venom in a very long time.
“He wants you to be there for him, don’t ever think for a second that he doesn’t want you around.” Kyle Walker speaks into the open, whilst looking around at the fans still in the stadium. The fans behind us right now would be watching with speculation, wondering why the english player is talking to an italian so soon after defeat.
“I don’t think he doesn’t want me around, i just don’t think he wants me around right now” I spoke back, trying to reason with myself and Kyle as to why i haven't gone up and offered my condolences to my brother.
“I think the only thing that can pull him out of this is you. He was beating himself up last night after your argument, and while he turned it into motivation for today, it's still weighing on his conscience. He’s happy for you, we aren't that mean so as to deny him the pleasure of being proud of his little sister...even if she is working for the enemy”
“You’ve always been one to be the voice of reason, whilst still being the clown I grew up to know and love”
“Does this mean we’re friends again? I’m sorry about last night” Kyle admitted.
“Last night wasn’t what ended our friendship...we stopped being friends the day you left Spurs.” I joked back to Kyle. I turned to look at his over-expressed shocked face and walked backwards a few steps while giggling, before turning and sauntering over to my brother who was now surrounded by some more teammates. Upon seeing me and noticing my solemn expression, finding comfort in the fact that I wasn't there to rub my win in their faces, the boys left my brother to himself.
I stood there, staring into the eyes of my brother, who after a few minutes reached out and pulled me into him as though I was a life raft and he was stranded in the ocean. We stood there, hugging, saying everything we needed to say through the way we were gripping to the backs of each other's team colours.
“I am so proud of you, you put up one hell of a fight Ben. Certainly made my job harder” I spoke into his shirt. He was the taller of the two, but I wasn't that short. Almost immediately after, I felt him push more weight onto me and sink a bit lower so he was in my neck, shedding a few tears he didn't want seen by those around us. Not even 5 seconds later, he stood up straight, wiping his eyes and offering me a smile.
“God, I wish you weren’t better at your job than I am at mine” he joked back to me. I smiled up at him, shaking my head.
“I would say you’re wrong but the medal that's about to be around my neck would say otherwise” i joke back with him. I was not about to dull my sparkle for someone else's sun to shine, whether he is my brother or not.
“We have to talk about everything that went down last night but i’ll let you enjoy your night with your team” Ben says as we turn and begin to walk toward the stage being set up for the ceremony.
“Thanks Ben, family dinner on Sunday? Tell your friends to come, you and i both know mum will have enough food to feed everyone without even trying”
“Of course, I'll put it in the lads chat & see who’s still around. Kyle will see it in our family chat - who even put him in there anyway!?”
“Honestly...I think it was mum. You know she loves her son, Kyle.”
As I walk back to my team, and into the arms of Fede and Jorginho who wrap me up in an Italian flag and start jumping around, I can't help but smile and laugh at my amazing life. Who knows what the future has to hold, but for tonight, the azzurri are the champions of europe and the trophy is coming home, to Rome.
Part 3. | parte terza
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tjlikesprettythings · 3 years
Note
Ooo I've got one! Prompt: write about what one of the characters (your choice who!) thinks about when THEY drink alone (lol).
Hey Anony, not sure which fandom you’re from but I decided to write for both Prodigal Son and Macgyver cause I loved this prompt, but I will post the Macgyver with a prompt paste. Thank you. <3
Prodigal Son: Malcolm
It was a long day, throwing his keys down and hanging his coat, Malcolm walked towards his wet bar cart. Pouring himself two fingers of the Macallan he usually reserved for something to celebrate or when he’s had the worst day. It was usually saved for the latter, but since his return to New York and joining the team, he found himself having more of the victory drinks. Though tonight it was for an altogether different reason. He pressed play on the sound system and let the soft melodies float through his apartment.
He sat down on the chesterfield and threw his head back letting it rest on the back of the sofa, staring at his ceiling as he thought about the day. While the case was an easy open and shut case, the players in the said case were what had him feeling uneasy. 
Dani was unusually friendly with Detective Henri Fontenot of the 32nd precinct who joined in their investigation for the murder of a young couple. As he would later find out from JT who happened to be in a bit of a gossipy mood that Fontenot had asked Dani out just weeks before Malcolm joined their team, and as far he knew that date went well cause Dani hadn’t seemed annoyed after the said date. JT shrugged and then simply deduced that since Malcolm has joined the team they have been kept on their toes and maybe Fontenot had fallen through the cracks of Dani’s schedule. 
Malcolm’s mind flashed to the way Dani had smiled at the other detective outside of the building, tucking some hair behind her ear. Malcolm found himself faltering in his steps as he walked towards them to join the crime scene, in the time he’s known her she never reacted quite so...charmed? Her usual reserved but amiable demeanour kicked up a notch as she chatted away, smiles and shy glances at the man standing across from her.  
He couldn’t place a finger on why it made him feel a bit uncomfortable to see her like this, but he pushed it aside as he walked up to them deliberately going to join her rather than where Gil and JT stood speaking with the officer on scene. He bounced up to her, his normal excitement for a case returning. Only she straightened herself and smiled a tight smile, he could see she looked startled by his presence as if she had been caught?
Malcolm remembers his own smile faltering very quickly at her reaction. He interrupted something. He turned to look at the man who very obviously had Dani engrossed in conversation, introducing himself and learning his name and figuring that he had a creole background from his name and a slight accent to his speech. Detective Henri Fontenot was definitely a charming man with appealing features. He turned to look at Dani who still looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar and smiled, she was obviously attracted to Fontenot and that revelation brought an easy knot to Malcolm’s stomach. 
He sighed, taking a large sip of his drink, squeezing his eyes tight, he shook his head. But all he saw behind his lids were Dani, smiling, nodding at him with knowing eyes. Teasing him about something. His mind dissecting each expression to match with the ones she had for Fontenot. He wasn’t someone who felt possessive about people in his life, to be fair he didn’t have many people to feel that way about. But Dani...she was special.
Malcolm sat up and looked at the glass of amber liquid, it was surreal that Dani wasn’t part of their team, his team. In this particular situation, she was paired with Fontenot and that knot in his stomach grew with each smile they shared or even the banter that flowed between them. The visible flirtations made Malcolm internally roll his eyes. Fontenot could work on his pick-up lines. 
It definitely didn’t help when they finally arrested the supposed best friend of the woman who was their murder victim, apparently, he lost it when she told him that she was in love with her current partner and they would be getting married and she was expecting his baby. Malcolm did not miss the sympathy that crept in the back of his mind, as if he understood their killer on a whole other level. 
After the wrap-up, when he was packing his bag for the night, he watched from afar as she laughed again at something Fontenot said, head thrown back full-blown laughter, not even he was able to get that kind of reaction from her. He was so deep in his observation of his friend and the object of her affection that, only noticed Gil when he heard him slurp rather loudly from his mug standing behind him.
“Looks like Dani’s gonna be busy on her day off,” JT wiggled his brows playfully as he joined next to Gil. 
“Nah, he’s not all in yet. He’s definitely close though.” Gil stated. “If he were, then she wouldn’t have dropped him after the first date.”
“I think Fontenot is already in, have you ever seen our girl laugh like that?” JT said pointing the file in his hand in the direction of the couple in question.
Gil shook his head, “I dunno,” still not convinced. 
JT turned to Malcolm, “what do you think?” 
Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, “I think this is not any of my business, Dani wouldn’t like the speculations.” 
“Really? Now you have boundaries?” JT shook his head teasingly as he walked away. 
Malcolm caught the sly smile on Gil’s lips as he turned to go back into his office. He looked on for a second longer and nodded to himself. It’s none of his business. 
Macallan deserved to be sipped and appreciated but he took another long gulp of the drink. He was annoyed with himself and with Dani irrationally. Why did she have to be so perfectly friendly, and caring, and...beautiful? Why did she embrace him and bring him into her fold?
He knew he had to address the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach but for now, all he wanted to do was drink his very expensive scotch and overthink about whether Dani was out with Fontenot.
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miraculousmarifan · 4 years
Text
Felinette Month - Day 1: Purrito
So this is my first time writing something that wasn’t academic or work documentation in probably at least 5 years and it’s definitely my first fan fic so please bear with the rough writing. And the potential out of character-ness of this. I wasn’t even planning to write for this but after reading a few of the ones by @fandomsilhouette, I felt too inspired not to try!
Fingers crossed that this burst of inspiration last long enough for me to finish the prompts on @felinettenovember!
This is based loosely on a fan fic I read a while back (if I remembered who wrote it, I’d completely tag them here but I don’t even remember the name now)
Chat!Felix and reveal
Around 1500 words and most certainly fluff
Marinette hummed as she put together the tray of cheese pastries and tea for her anticipated visitor. She loved the decision to make a schedule for patrol to clear up some time in her and Chat’s busy schedules. Under this, she had three days every week that she didn’t need to worry about sneaking out and one day that they could meet up from patrol to hang out and work on finding Hawkmoth. Additionally it resulted in a standing visit with her masked friend once a week, with her parents’ approval after the Weredad akuma brought it to their attention under the condition of homework still getting done, of course.
Once upstairs, Marinette worked on tidying up her room a little from her projects, as the scrap pile from her ongoing projects could be a little distracting and she preferred to have those in acceptable condition for smaller projects. Maybe she could make a nice patchwork quilt for Felix as a get-well present, since he seemed to be coming down with something. A cold or maybe the flu? He definitely seemed flushed and less alert than usual, seeming to space out while looking at her throughout the day. 
As she sat down with the pieces, arranging and rearranging to find the most appealing look that Felix may approve of, a thump sounded from the balcony and the clatter of a chair falling. Quickly pushing the fabrics out of sight, Marinette climbed up and opened the door to peer out at Chat. He was still laying on the ground with a bright red face, visibly sweaty skin, and eyes shut.
“Oh! You look terrible Chat! Did something happen on your patrol?” Marinette rushed over to help him up slowly and stopped when she noticed the shiver running through him and the quick breaths. She felt his forehead, pushing his more disheveled than usual hair out of the way. His eyes slowly opened and a weak grin crossed his face.
“Hiya Princess. You look nice today. Is your hair down?” His hand reached up and batted at the closest pigtail. Her hair was definitely still in it’s pigtails, albeit a little longer than they were when these visits first started. That’s not a good sign…
“Let’s get you inside and out of the cold. Are you sick? Why didn’t you go home right away after patrol if you’re sick? Or better yet, why not call Ladybug and ask her to cover this patrol so you could rest up?” He mumbled incoherently and leaned heavily on her as she helped him climb into her room. The moment he was near the chaise, he collapsed heavily on it.
Marinette rushed to grab blankets and a pillow to make him comfortable, chastising him about the importance of taking care of his health and assuring him that Ladybug certainly felt the same way, despite his denials of being sick. With some coaxing, she managed to get him to sit up so she could wrap the biggest blanket she owned around his shoulders. She moved to grab another blanket and pillow and he let himself fall down again, rolling off the chaise onto the floor.
“Oh Chat! Let me help you back up! I’m sure you’d be much cozier than on the floor!” I’m sure my parents are wondering what is happening at this point. Hopefully they help me take care of him when they’re done prepping for tomorrow, at least enough that he can make it home.
“Nnnngh,” and curled up tighter in the blanket, burying his face into the spot where the carpet and the top edge of the blanket met. With a resigned sigh, Marinette went to the bathroom to find a thermometer and to see what kinds of medicine they had. At least if it’s only a cold, she might be able to give him something to help him through the night. Coming back into the room, she chuckled at the sight of him curled up tightly, like a little purrito.
“Chat, you need to get up and take this so you feel better soon. I have some tea that you can take it with, if you’d like,” Marinette cooed, trying to sound as much like her mother as possible, as she walked towards the nearly forgotten tray with medicine in hand.
“I don’t want to! I want to cuddle,” Chat protested and pulled the blanket closer in, somehow curling up even more and acting more like a petulant child throwing a tantrum with each passing minute. Marinette brought the tray over, setting it near the chaise, grabbing another blanket, and knelt down by his side.
“I tell you what, if you sit up and take your medicine like a good boy, I’ll give you this extra blanket and let you pick which pillow you want to use,” she bribed, hoping that the time babysitting Manon had taught her the right skill for this kind of situation. With this offer on the table, Chat managed to sit up slowly, his eyes looking more glazed over than when he had arrived. Marinette handed him the tea, grown cold by this point, and the correct dosage of cold medicine, to prevent him from accidentally taking too much.
He quickly took both without further protests and then a goofy grin broke out. “I want you to be my pillow!” His arms wrapped around Marinette and tried to curl himself up on her lap. The contact made her blush a bit and she tried to pull back.
“You’re such a flirt! What happened to being in love with Ladybug?” she joked nervously. After readjusting so he was just leaning on her shoulder, instead of across her lap, she used one hand to drape the second blanket over him. At least this way I can tell he isn’t too cold. 
“I only flirt with you and Ladybug. I can’t help that if I didn’t have this curse, you’d be my first choice,” he murmured, seeming to be drifting back to sleep already. Marinette was stunned into silence. Did this mean Chat likes her? How did things change so much just from hanging out? With how out of it he seems, is he going to remember this conversation later? Are things going to be different the next time I see him?
For a few minutes she spiraled, thinking of every possible thing that could change, speculating whether this would affect how she treated him as Ladybug (try as she might to avoid letting these nights slip into her superhero life), and how different this might have been if she didn’t have a crush on Felix. Soon he startled her out of her thoughts with a jolt, as he sat up and started thrashing wildly at the blankets and pulling at his suit.
“Ack! Too hot! Stupid suit! Plagg, claws in!”
A flash of light and silence. Marinette clamped her hands over her eyes as quickly as she could with her brain already running on delay.
“Mmmmmmm. Much better,” he mumbled, before Marinette felt his head resting on her leg, arms wrapping around her waist, and body resting on her lap. She kept her hands over her eyes and freaked out internally. How am I supposed to talk him into transforming back?
“What are you doing kid?! You can’t do that here! Nobody is supposed to know your identity! I hate to say it but you need to transform back so Ladybug doesn’t get upset with you!” Plagg fumed. Marinette felt him try to pull on Chat’s arms
“You’re so warm,” Chat purred out, ignoring Plagg’s badgering, “Why don’t we do this more often, Princess? This would be perfect during movie nights.”
I need to do something. I can’t stay like this forever!
“Chat, why don’t you transform back and just take one of the blankets off? Wouldn’t that be better?” Marinette kept her eyes clamped together, moving her hands slowly down to where she thought his shoulder was and felt for the blankets. Apparently he hadn’t pulled them back up before curling up on her so it was just his shirt. Feeling utterly surreal, she noted that the sleeve’s fabric felt like the high quality fabrics she had to save up to buy for bigger, fancier projects.
“Noooooo. This is what I want. This is too nice to give up!” he protested, twisting his body up first to bury his face into her side, then shake it dramatically. A ticklish jolt ran through her body and she opened her eyes without thinking, pushing him back to stop him.
“Felix?!” Marinette gasped. Felix just smiled and continued trying to cuddle back up to her.
Just then Marinette’s parents knocked on the door downstairs and asked if they could come in. If her brain hadn’t come to a halt, she might’ve had a joke about their impeccable timing.
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lady-chaotic-kit · 3 years
Text
Lancaster Week Day 1: Shy Jaune
Okay, I’ll admit it started out as an innocent moment. I couldn’t help; it was the moment that anyone else would overlook. Most people would ignore it, but it’s how the thought crept into my head, but it felt wrong to think about it. It wasn’t the right time, right place. If it’s anything, it was the worst time and the worst place. Then again, I was the moron who had feelings for her since Beacon but knew better than to attempt anything. Not with Yang acting like a stone guardian who would kill me if I so much as looked. Gave me that warning to stay from her sister unless I wanted to become paste on the walls.
It was simply the first time that should have been the biggest clue that I would fall harder than then getting between Nora and a pancake breakfast.
We had a test at Beacon everyone else was prepping for the tournament. It almost seems childish-looking back at how focused we were on the tournament when the books and knowing more about the Grimm were a lot more useful as huntsmen and huntresses. But I digress. I’m just trying to think of happier times before I started walking this shoreline. Before things became so bad, I fell into an endless void after failing to run for life after killing a friend and seeing most of my friends fall into an infinite void. I was wondering where the other people of Atlas and mantle fell here too. So much happened in such a short time, so much pain and misery. I just want to think of simpler times when you knew who your allies were. Where my crush began, and I was too much of a shy idiot to say anything about it.
Trying to keep spirits high when everything seems to be getting worse. Considering Penny finally became human only to die brutally. What happened to Maria and Pietro? My heart feels crack at the fact we don’t know what happened to them after what they sacrificed for us to get the message out to the rest of Remanent. All we know is that they fell out of orbit. Were they included in the escape plan out of Atlas, or would they be too far outside of the jurisdiction of Ambrosius?
The moment was simple I was confused about distinguishing marks for tactics on older Grimm, thinking that Grimm can be born with bone plating. My thoughts were that Grimm can be born a tough customer. I had it written in my notes and everything, and we were studying in silence, only saying a few words to each other. If it had been anyone, I might have felt nervous or awkward sitting in silence while my brain melted under stress. But around Ruby, I felt comfortable; that should have been my first clue, but I will admit blind to my own feelings.
“Jaune,” she patted my shoulder. It wasn’t a condescending pat but sympathetic with kindness in her eyes.
“Jaune? That’s the wrong information. You must have misheard Professor Port about that.” Ruby said softly in only the two of us would hear and wouldn’t alert the rest of the library.
“What?” He was confused until he noticed her looking at his notes. The confusion must have been evident on my face.
“Newborn Grimm is born without bone plating or any natural defenses from the average huntress or hunter; the average person with the most basic of combat training could kill a newborn Grimm. That’s developed over time from devouring people. We aren’t sure why, but it’s speculated and assumed it’s because people have an aura, and whatever Grimm is born with a lack it, and when eating people, it gains more strength to fight for longer.
It was that moment I had felt fluttering before a felt flush but ignored it. All the late time chats, the time we sparred during free time. It was kind of hard not to love Ruby. Admiring her and really enjoying her company was something as easy as breathing for me. Reminding myself repeatedly that she was my friend that liking her would ruin things if I ever tried it, but it was clear to Ruby that was like me being a huntress was all she cared about. Helping others take out Grimm was her main drive. Anything else was not worth her notice. When guys were asking her out to the dance back then, she was confused. She walked past them, not really getting what they were asking. I even thought about what would happen if I actively asked her out, only to get that cold, confused look and then die at Yang’s hands. It wasn’t like asking out Weiss, which I did more out of testing the waters and trying to get over my crush where I already know what the end result will be. Ruby was and always will be a lot different in my heart when it comes to my feelings and my emotions and my thoughts while some things, I have an easier time talking about when it comes to my feelings towards her, I feel tongue tide and actually nervous about what I want to say to her.
She was and is, even after all these years, pretty oblivious unintentionally. So, leaving any ambiguity would be a disaster. She still is unaware if someone was attracted to her or not, or she was... My heart stutters at the idea that she was dead and not knowing if they were in the same place.
His mind went every time he refused to acknowledge how he felt because it was inconvenient or didn't feel like he deserved it. When she smiled and felt the flutter but would stamp them down hard, you could almost hear the butterflies cry in agony at what I was doing. that didn’t make traveling with her across Anima any easier. Still, I was grieving my team member, and I still am in many ways. I barely knew her, and because I know that the reason she died was because of a power-hungry bitch who still hasn’t paid for what she’s done and keeps doing, so any thought of romance was not even in the forefront, much less the feelings I long since buried not when I had to be aware of any Grimm or any missions, we took from the town they took on the way to Mistral.
I have to hope most of team RWBY was down here, wherever here actually was. While we discussed the plan endlessly about how the warping would work, connecting Atlas and Vacuo seamlessly, I was with her when she made the explanation, so there no telling where we were exactly or if there were multiple places we could have fallen into. Or they might have fallen into some other sub-dimension of the gods. As well as a lot of the civilians that cinder jettisoned purposely when she landed on the bridge. The ones we couldn’t save. Even if I’m trapped wherever this is? At least the rest of my team and winter made it to safety. They aren’t stuck in some other dimension. They are safely in Vacuo, hopefully, able to contact the local government.
The only hopeful thought he had as he noticed the island, he was just oddly still, which put him on edge more than he was willing to admit making him glad that he at least had weapons with him what con possible be in this dimension who knows and if and how they would get back was another question altogether. If they were even here and he wasn’t trapped all alone.
Crescent Rose was sticking out of the sands, and I could hear a groan.
“Ruby?”
“Wait? Jaune? Jaune! Is that you?! What how?” Ruby sounded tired, worn out, considering she hadn’t slept since we found Salem was on her way; that makes more sense, I care to admit, especially since I was pretty sure I hadn’t slept in just as long.
“I couldn’t make it out of the warp before something turned it off. It closed right in front of me. but I can at least say winter and the rest of the time go out.”
At that moment, they held each other; they knew that they might be the only ones. Jaune had no clue where they were precisely, only this was a place similar to where artifacts had been hidden, a space between spaces. And the fact there is two suns in the sky, and the unnatural stillness made everything more terrifying, knowing that we were entirely out of our depth this time and there was nothing and no one we could rely on. and whether we could get back to remnant might not be possible unless winter works on figuring out how to open a portal wherever we are as more insane and impossible as that is. And will be if she even attempts it. Things are bad things are unsure, but I’ll tell her when I’m ready and not a moment before I’ve been tiptoeing about this for a long time. But right at this moment, right now is not the best time to put my heart on my sleeve and admit how much knowing that she was in my arms is the only place I’d rather be.
“R-r-Ruby,” he couldn’t help but stutter.
“I’m glad I at least found you in this mess.” his face was red; most of his guards were down, and he knew it. Before, he could compartmentalize his friendship and his feeling but not here now. Gripping her tighter in a hug giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek, taking the chance more than grateful to know that she was alive.
She gasped and held him tighter, her lips grazing ears whether it was an accident or on purpose didn’t matter. She was just above tears, and he would be reduced to the same soon enough. But at least I found Ruby.
When we find the others because I know we will, I will tell her how I feel no matter if she doesn’t feel the same about me. I’ve wasted too much time pretending like I don’t have feelings for her.
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bundleofyarrow · 3 years
Text
Bundle of Yarrow Chapter 9 is up!
the 9th chapter of my Milo x Reader fic Bundle of Yarrow is up! you can read it below the cut or over at AO3. this chapter is mostly inspired by an ask wanting to see a scene of Milo getting jealous! see my attempt at creating tension as you struggle to deal with suddenly being a part of the gym challenge.
Exiting Motostoke was like shifting into a completely different setting. The west side of the city was dominated by warehouses and loading equipment. Sounds of metal against metal and tumbling construction material overwhelms the magic feel of the city. Instead, haze from billowing smokestacks and whiffs of waste occupied your senses as you walked through to Route 3. You never thought you’d miss the Wild Area, but you would trade this for the scent of the forests any day.
“Whew! Now I remember why I never visit Turffield on foot unless it’s from Hulbury.” Sonia complains, waving a hand in front of her nose. “I think the last time I’ve been to Route 3 was for our gym challenge!”
Earlier in the day, Sonia showed you a statue of a hero with a sword and shield in the lobby of the Budew Drop Inn while you waited for Leon to get ready. She was reading the inscription and looking information up online while writing in her notebook. It was an interesting listen, hearing about Galarian folklore and the mysteries that remained. Her excitement and curiosity was infectious. Even though you had little relationship to this region’s mythologies, you were becoming invested in her adventure for finding out the truth. Apparently there are ancient sites in Turffield that may have leads for her research, so she decided to walk with you over to your first stop in the gym challenge.
“You don’t have to rough it with me, you know. You’re able to take a flying taxi over to Turffield.” You offer nonchalantly, not trying to give away that you do indeed want her company, but don’t want to feel like a bother. “It’s just me that has to do all the walking.”
“Absolutely not.”
A few paces behind you was Leon, except upon a cursory glance you might not be able to tell. He was dressed in joggers and a hoodie that contained his hair, complete with wrap-around sports sunglasses that tinted your reflection in yellows and greens. This is the first time you’ve seen Leon incognito, more used to his open, public displays of celebrity. In a group chat with you and Sonia, Nessa gossiped about Leon getting scolded by League higher-ups and was told to not be seen with you anymore. He was also given a bunch of work by Chairman Rose related to some new energy plan Marcos Cosmos was prototyping. Leon wouldn’t tell you more than that, only he was escorting you to the Galar Mines on the other side of Route 3, picking up some samples, and heading to Hammerlocke, which you learned is a city north of the Wild Area.
You couldn’t put your finger on it exactly, but it felt like Leon was hovering over you all day so far. He would reach for things to give to you the moment you were about to get them yourself, or he would take your coffee cup while you were texting on your phone. Leon insisted that he come along with you because you needed some training to do well at the gym challenge. You still weren’t completely sure about this whole gym challenge thing, but you figured he was right, given he’s a champion and all.
Things weren’t exactly settled with you though. When you woke up, your phone had a huge influx of notifications from Pokegram. Turns out that Raihan posted the selfies he took with you at dinner on his account and tagged you. This only seemed to stoke the speculation online about a relationship between you and Leon. While the idea didn’t offend you, things definitely didn’t feel like there was romance in the air. He always acted weird towards you, despite making advances on you twice. Not to mention, there has to be something going on him with and Sonia…
“It’s nice to do the walkin’ sometimes! Durin’ challenge season things get so busy, there’s no choice but to use flyin’ taxis.”
It was hard not to smile with Milo’s matter-of-fact optimism, seeming to be in a much better mood today and back to his usual pleasant self. He walked next to you with that permanent soft rise in the corners of his lips, not looking at all encumbered holding bags of last minute grocery shopping you did. Early this morning he actually went to get the group coffee and tea while you dragged yourselves out of bed and got ready to leave. On your way past the markets of the city you remember how you wanted to stock up on some cooking materials for the trip, and might have went a smidge overboard. You wanted to get some fresher ingredients for the first couple of days, so you got some sausage to cook for tonight and a good medley of mushrooms and veggies for tomorrow. After that, you knew you had to get things that preserve for a bit, so you also bought some potatoes and pre-cooked burger sealed tight, along with a couple cups of emergency instant noodles. And of course, plenty of curry mix! What escaped your calculations was how much all of that would weigh, and the current lack of space in your bag.
And as if on cue, with little effort at all, Milo just lifted the bag out of your arms and informed everyone he was joining you all on the trek over to Turffield. You were quite surprised, since he probably needed to get to his gym to prepare for the first wave of challengers. Milo said he wanted to stretch his legs and take things slowly before the rush, but you wondered if that was the full story. Come to think of it, this was when Leon’s weird behavior began.
As the group crossed out of Motostoke and to the dirt path of Route 3, Leon stopped you. He was scoping out the rustling in the tall grass and took notice of young trainers loitering around hoping to get some practice in. When he turns to you, he has a bit of a smirk and hands on his hips.
“Okay, it’s time to get serious about your training! Let’s go over some basics and give you some strategy.” He holds up eight fingers, four on each hand. “So there are eight gyms, what is unique about them?”
You blink a couple of times. “They all specialize in different types, even I know that Le-” He quickly makes a hushing gesture with a finger over his mouth. “Um, mysterious Mr. Man?” Sonia doesn’t hide her giggle.
“So you have to visit each of these in an order, right? It only makes sense that you try to capture and train Pokemon that have type advantages for your next gym. Then when you get to the championships, which you will, you can select the Pokemon you’ve bonded with the best to train for the end.”
“This feels like cheating, but okay.” You look over to Milo, who is looking down the route but casually listening in. “So it’s your gym first, and I feel like everyone has been saying you like Grass types?”
Milo smiles at you and gives a thumbs up. “You got it! In fact, you already met the Pokemon you’ll be battlin’.” That must mean the ones he introduced to you while you were camping.
“Right, now Milo isn’t that much of a challenge,” Milo stiffens a bit at Leon’s comment. “So as long as you find the right types, you can win pretty easy. Since his gym challenge only uses two Pokemon, you only need two yourself. And I’ll help you train!” His grin only widens, he’s really into this. “Do you know what is good against Grass?”
You try to remember the times you’d have lunch and Hop would force Gloria to quiz him on type matchups. Whether it’s helpful or not, you try to imagine literal grass and what it wouldn’t like. “Fire, Bugs, umm… and Ice?”
Leon nods. “Also Flying and Poison, so there are plenty of choices to beat Milo with.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Milo’s smile is gone and his expression is very difficult to read. It’s not that nervous, fumbling side that comes out every once in a while, it’s… something else. “This route is the habitat for a few fire Pokemon, Growlithe, Vulpix, and if you’re willing to do some searching, there’s Sizzlipedes too. And catching you a Rookidee wouldn’t hurt either. I can train you with the Thwackey I have on me, we need to work on your battling form.”
It’s hard to not feel a bit overwhelmed by everything Leon is shooting at you. But before you can protest much, he leads you down the route to begin your training. He gets nearby trainers to battle you, coaching you from how you throw your Pokeball to giving commands. Yelling orders at your Pokemon makes you deeply uncomfortable, so you try to work around Leon’s advising by cheering them on or getting better at reading the situation and relaying that information to them. You can tell Leon is biting his tongue, because while it seems like you’re winning battles, they aren’t decisive wins.
After a fight with a girl’s Vulpix, you crouch down to pet Pancham and tend to her burns. She didn’t seem to have an issue with battling at all, in fact, she’s basking in her victory. But hearing her cries when attacked was dreadful. It made you want to quit right then and there. “You’ll get a little extra curry tonight.” For some reason, your other Pokeballs shake upon hearing that.
When you rise and return Pancham to her Pokeball, you feel a strong hand on your back. “Good work, you’ll be battling me in no time!” You can see Leon’s eyes sparkle when he looks over his sunglasses at you. “I can now see what Milo was talking about, you care about your Pokemon above all other concerns. It’s hard to be that way during a fight though, during a Pokemon battle all you can think about is winning.”
You sigh a bit hearing that, and Leon soon directs you into the tall grass to find a fire Pokemon of your own. “You have a Vanillite, but it’s better to explore some more options before you settle on including her into your lineup.” It doesn’t take long to reconfirm that you are horrible at throwing Pokeballs, and you realize that you most likely only caught Yamper and Vanillite because they wanted to be caught, just with a bit of a fight first. The idea of forcing a Pokemon to join you twists your stomach. You attempt to talk to all the wild Pokemon Leon wanted you to catch but none responded very well.
“We’re really going to have to work on your throwing arm. Here, let me catch-”
“No.” You say with more force than you meant. “I don’t like doing it this way. My Pokemon picked me, and I want to keep it that way.”
Leon crosses his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. “But how are you going to get the Pokemon you want? I admit I’m impressed that Pokemon seem to choose you willingly, and they want to fight for you. But you’re supposed to be doing the choosing, not them. You’re a Pokemon trainer now, have to get into a different mentality.”
Sonia and Milo have mostly been chatting between themselves while trailing behind you and Leon. They both give you a reassuring touch on the shoulder or elbow whenever he gets particularly tough in his instruction with you. It’s clear to you now why Leon is the champion, he can see the entire world from the perspective of a Pokemon battle. Every piece of information relates to how he can win or is discarded. On the other hand, you were interested in the story of each of your charges, wanting them to grow and live the lives they wanted to pursue. They chose you not because you were aiming to become the best, but rather some other adventure you had yet to fully define.
“I think you’re doin’ a great job.” You turn to Milo, who’s smiling. Thinking of him cheering you on sends some tingles throughout your body. “It’s nice to see someone go about being a trainer in a different way.”
“You’re just saying that because you want an easy win!” Leon smirks at Milo, slinging one arm around your tire shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, I’ll make it so you’re unbeatable for your adventure.” That unreadable expression returns to Milo’s face, and you watch his eyes lock onto where Leon’s hand is grasping your shoulder. “We’ll resume lessons soon, let’s take a break.” He gives you a quick squeeze and lets go to lead you forward.
It’s only now that you notice the sun was just starting to fall past its zenith. In a nearby clearing Sonia lays out a blanket and Milo tears apart some bread that he got at the cafe earlier this morning to pass around for a snack. You all are mostly quiet, probably for different reasons. You feel like there are maybe a pair of eyes or two on you, but you’re staring off into the distance as you mull over Leon’s attitude towards being a Pokemon trainer. However, it’s not long before the group notices a lingering smell of something unsavory. Sonia shoots a glare over to Leon while covering her lower face with her hand. “Ew Leon, was that you??”
“Sonia!” Leon practically screeched, turning a bright shade of red. “Why are you so quick to accuse me!?”
As they bicker, Milo leans towards you and points out into the distance past the route. There’s a factory with smoke drifting from it in the air, surrounded with carts full of what looks to be coal. “That’s a Marcos Cosmos energy plant over there, turnin’ ore into power.” You can tell Milo is trying to not breathe through his nose as he talks, and it takes you a bit of effort to not giggle at how cute he sounds. “Chairman Rose pretty much owns every method of generatin’ energy here in Galar. It probably smells because this is a crosswind point for the industrial district of Motostoke ‘n the factory.”
But the smell only gets stronger, and soon you hear some rustling in the nearby foliage. Sonia’s Yamper begins to bark as suddenly the source of the strong smell presents itself to you all: a Trubbish. Your friends instantly reel and move away from the Pokemon. “Let’s find somewhere else!” Sonia chokes through as she tries to grab her belongings.
You’re familiar with the Trubbish from Alola, where they gathered around cities. But you knew that most Trubbish only smell when they aren’t really in contact with people, as the stench is mostly a defense mechanism in the wild. On TV you remember multiple ad campaigns against Trubbish abuse, and that the Recycling Center harbored many that were put to work and happily coexisted with people. So your first reaction wasn’t to get up and run, but to tear your piece of bread in half and offer it to the Trubbish.
Leon calls your name. “What are you doing?? Let’s get out of here! Trubbish always leave sludge on your things and can attract other Trubbish miles away.”
“There’s a reason this Trubbish came to us. He’s hungry and must have been unable to find some food. Maybe the days before challenge season are the least traversed, so there are few people around littering.”
The Trubbish looks between your face and the bread a few times before waddling over to you. Even though the smell was no less than putrid, you did your best to smile and make it not seem like you were breathing through your mouth. “Go on, have some. And if you’d like, I can cook you some food later! What do you think about some sausage curry?”
You don’t need to see them to know your friends were gawking as the Trubbish takes the bread from you and the two of you eat your pieces together as a sign of friendliness. It was hard to notice at first, but as the breeze picks up you can tell Trubbish’s smell was beginning to disappear. Finishing the bread, he jingled happily, if the clanging of the trash items inside him could be considered jingling. Trubbish epitomized ugly-cute for you, but you didn’t want him to know that.
“All better for now?” You rise to your feet when he jumps and jingles some more. He kind of reminds you of your Vanillite, who you bring out of her Pokeball. “Something tells me you two will be friends, how about you keep each other company while we travel?”
It is clear Trubbish absolutely adores Vanillite, and you hope it’s not because he wants to eat her for looking like ice cream. But your Vanillite soon warms up, if still below freezing, pretty quickly when she notices the Trubbish doesn’t mind her cold temperatures. Once they start chattering you turn around, freezing when you see three pairs of eyes staring at you. Leon was straight-up slack jawed. “G-guys, what??”
Sonia is the first to speak up. “I’ve never seen someone speak to a Trubbish like that before… Brilliant! Had no idea their smell went away.”
Leon’s hand was pensively rubbing his chin as he looked at you and your Pokemon. “Not many people go through the trouble of taming a Trubbish. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve fought one as Champion.”
Milo isn’t quick to say anything, but he is positively beaming at you, to the point where you think his gaze would make you melt. You walk towards the others to start again down the route, and the two Pokemon jingle behind you. “It looks a bit like magic whenever I see ya talk to Pokemon.” He finally remarks, lightly touching his fingertips to your arm for a quick second. If you weren’t paying attention you wouldn’t have noticed the contact, but whenever his skin touches yours, you can feel the warmth radiate from his body.
“You’re not going to catch him?” Leon looks confused, only continuing to walk when you pass by him. “I thought that’s the reason why you did that?”
“Oh, I didn’t do that because I wanted to catch him. It just seemed like the right thing to do.” You give a slight shrug to Leon’s question. “If he gets along with our Pokemon well and seems to be having a fun time, I’ll offer him a Pokeball and he can decide. He is a Poison type, so that’s one I should get, right?” You can’t help but smile at Leon’s puzzled expression. “I at least owe him some cooking first!”
You encounter more battling school children down Route 3, probably because everyone can see Milo’s distinctive silhouette rather easily. Leon coaches you through battling with Vanillite as Trubbish and the others watch, but barking orders still doesn’t come naturally to you. During a battle with a girl’s Purrloin, you realize it’s not that you lack the confidence. Rather, you just don’t see your Pokemon as a means to an end for winning matches. Leon seems to be critiquing you less and more watching your style, how you trust Vanillite to react instinctively to the battle. It’s clear her ice attacks are getting stronger, and that she’s good at taunting and then countering with blasts of snow.
~*~*~*~
As the sun begins to near the horizon, Milo leads everyone up a hill to what looks like the highest point in Route 3. There are already other tents set up in the area, so the four of you get to work creating a little corner with the three tents between you all. The campsite quickly becomes a bit of a circus when everyone lets their Pokemon out: your five, Milo’s three, Sonia’s Yamper, Leon’s Charizard and Thwackey along with the wild Trubbish.
The two men go off to collect firewood, Sonia visits a nearby berry tree, and you begin to slice up some sausage. The Pokemon are cautious of Trubbish, but Vanillite seems to be acting as a liaison. Before you know it, they are romping and battling each other. Every once in a while one would scamper over to smell the sausage, but were satisfied with some pets and a promise that dinner would be ready soon. Milo’s Pokemon mostly hung around his tent and Charizard sat next to you watching the others. It begins to dawn on you that this is starting to feel familiar. You pause for a second, setting the knife down and just gazing out to where the Pokemon were playing. The Yampers were thick as thieves by now, chasing your Wooloo, Pancham, and now Leon’s Thwackey around. Lombre relaxed with Milo’s Pokemon while Vanillite and Trubbish seemed to be practicing techniques with each other. Charizard nuzzled your shoulder, an eye trained on the sausage as you pet him.
Milo and Leon were the first to return, looking to be in good spirits. It didn’t occur to you until now that they probably were friends, both being major figures in the League and all. They stacked the firewood and Leon got Charizard to light it up. But it wasn’t long that you noticed Leon was watching your Pokemon with a look of concern, arms crossed over his chest again.
“Is something wrong, Leon?”
He looks to you for a second before looking back at the playing Pokemon. “It might not be the best idea to let them battle unsupervised, especially when they are new to you and undisciplined. You’ll want to make sure they are developing the right habits.” You’re not entirely sure how to answer, because you know he’s probably right but you couldn’t think of anything more unpleasant. Leon turns back to you and crouches by the fire. “You’ve been working hard all day, how about I cook dinner and you take a break?”
You shake your head and notice Sonia returning with an armful of berries. “Let me do this, to make up for worrying you these past few days. It would mean a lot for me to cook for you.” You smile at Leon, and hear Milo busying himself with his Eldegoss who seem to be giving him a piece of their minds over something. “Plus, I promised Pancham and Trubbish some curry!”
Sonia hands you the berries she found and you sift through what she found. While she got you a good number, it seemed like there wasn’t a diverse selection on this route. Sausage is one of the better meats to react to sweetness, so you decide to base the roux of the curry on pecha berries with a few oran ones mixed in for balance.
When Leon and Sonia join the playing Pokemon, Milo comes to sit down next you. “Can I help with anythin’?”
You nod absent-mindedly as you compare berry sizes and count out how many you need. “Would you mind getting the rice going? That would be helpful! We’re also going to need to crush the oran berries and stir them right into the curry mix. The pecha berries will need a slight roasting over the fire, then we’ll crush half of them and put in the others whole. I’ll also brown the sausage over the fire before adding it in and then let everything cook. What do you think?”
When you look over to Milo, he’s smiling. Of course. And that funny feeling in your stomach takes over again. Of course. You really wish you knew what was happening to you. He doesn’t seem to be having as much of a messy internal monologue as you are. “Sounds amazin’! Were you a chef back ‘n Alola?”
You chuckle a bit as you sort the berries, Milo instinctively taking the ones to be mashed. “No not at all, I don’t know if I’m that good at cooking really.” You skewer slices of sausage and pecha on thinner sticks you find in the wood pile, preparing them for roasting.
“But you’re quite deliberate when you cook. Most people throw anythin’ in the pot and hope for the best.” You’re sure that Milo counts himself among most people, though he seems like the type that can eat anything and everything. He checks the temperature of the water in a smaller pot before adding the rice in, and you take that as a sign to pour the curry mix into the larger pot.
“I guess that’s true. Thinking on it, there’s just something special about making a good meal. Like, it’s one of the most satisfying things in life, eating good food that you made yourself, knowing others are happy because of something I did.” Milo pushes in the mashed berries into the curry while you prop up the skewers, lightly rotating them every once in a while over the fire. “Right now my mind is like, how can I make everyone happy with what I’ve got? I haven’t learned your preferences yet, but I feel like you’d enjoy this. And it would be really satisfying knowing that you did.”
Milo is quiet for a bit. You can’t tell if he’s thinking up a proper response or just taking in the moment. After you take down the skewers and toss the meat and remaining berries in, you begin to stir it all together. It smells how you imagine it, a savory-sweet smell which seems to waft over the camp since Pokemon are drawing nearer to the campfire. Sonia is back on her phone with her notebook in hand, and Leon is giving poor Thwackey a lecture. Curious noses sniff around the pot, but everyone can now read the look you give them to have some more patience.
“I can’t wait for you to see Turffield. I hope ya like it there.”
Milo’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the crackling fire and Pokemon chatter. You turn to him, a little taken back from his Eldegoss and Gossifleur staring at you expectantly. His face is in profile from your angle, shadows and light from the fire flickering across his cheek as he watches the curry bubble.
Before you respond, you feel mass of wool bump up against you. Wooloo immediately and consistently begins to bleat at you, crawling into your lap and staring at the pot of curry. You notice that all the other Pokemon have gathered around the campfire as well.
“Okay okay, it’s about done. You all should know that the longer it similar the more-” a range of Pokemon whines and protests erupt. How did you suddenly end up with so many children?
Leon takes the ladle before you can reach for it and begins to serve the curry over rice. With a smile he hands you the first bowl. “You earned it.” Soon enough the humans have their servings and the Pokemon gather around a few large bowls they share from.
The sounds of happy eating pleases you as the curry came out nicely. You’re glad that you decided to grill some of the ingredients to give the curry some texture and not get more sweet than savory. It could have done with more spice, you’ll have to make sure you gather some cheri or figy berries next time for when there aren’t any in nature.
“This is amazing!!” Leon regards you with his mouth full, with Sonia more politely covering her mouth as she nods beside him. “I didn’t know you could cook this well! Might be better than Sonia’s cooking.” Which then causes her to frown.
“I’ll remember that the next time you’re pawing at my tent door for breakfast.”
The two get into their usual back-and-forth, letting you shift your attention to Milo. He was shoveling his food down, probably needing seconds soon. “Did it come out alright?” Mouth full, he nods and chews at the same time.
As the night goes on, conversation inevitable gets back to the gym challenge. Though the two are friendly, you can’t help but sense some tension between Leon and Milo. It’s clear that Leon perceives Milo’s gym to not be much of a challenge, and expects you to only be in Turffield for a short while before heading to Hulbury. Apparently there’s a train station there and he can visit you from Hammerlocke easily when you get there. “I’m sure Sonia will want to hang out with Nessa for a while, too.”
That’s when you realize that, while not arrogant, Leon was quite used to getting his way and being the center of attention. He didn’t demand it really, but it seemed like he had this magnetism that drew people to him and he based his understanding of everything bending towards him. Leon never once asked for Milo’s input about his gym or your opinion on what you wanted your travel plans to be. It’s like he had this vision and just needed everyone to play their parts.
The Pokemon quickly tired out after eating and grouped up in different piles ready to sleep for the night. Social groups are definitely starting to form, though you don’t really see anything wrong with that. You’re happy that Vanillite, who usually wants to return to her Pokeball come bedtime, has found a cuddle buddy in Trubbish. Watching them makes you yawn, and it’s only now you realize how tired the day has made you.
“I think it’s time for you to turn in.” Leon rises from his spot next to Sonia and begins collecting the dishes. “If you’re going to make it to the other side of the mines before sunset, we’ll need to get up early in the morning.”
After another yawn, a hand reaches down from above; it’s Milo, with a soft smile on his face, the jade of his eyes almost glowing reflecting the fire. Always the gentleman. But when you take is hand, you can’t help but feel all those funny feelings again. You’re sensitive to the tactile nature of his hand, one that is calloused and used to manual labor, is firm in grip only just as much as it needs to be. It’s difficult to not notice his bicep flexing as he pulls you upwards. Upwards towards him, almost enough for you to bump into his chest. Thankfully it’s dark out and he probably can’t tell you’re flushed being this close to him. You realize he’s slow to let go of your hand, and he looks like he’s working up to say something to you.
Another’s hand grasps your shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. Leon’s. “Sleep in my tent tonight, okay?”
You’re caught off-guard by the request, but in an effort to not reveal how embarrassed you were feeling, you just nod. The cool night air brushes over your hand as Milo releases his hold and creates some space between the two of you. Leon goes to wash the dishes (with Charizard, or else he wouldn’t find his way back), Sonia lets the Yampers hop into her tent, and you’re alone with Milo. His eyes are downcast, and eventually he rubs the back of his neck as he turns away from you.
“We should get to sleepin’, huh?” The uncertainty in his voice intrigues you. His shoulders then square and he turns back to you, looking determined. “I guess I’m the first challenge in your adventure. I… won’t let ya go that easily.” Before you can respond, he nods to his Pokemon and heads into his tent. Maybe Milo won’t be as easy of a gym leader after all.
After putting out the fire and whispering good night to all the Pokemon, you take your bag and head inside Leon’s tent. Wooloo sneaks in after you, followed by Pancham and Thwackey. Looking around on the inside, you’re not really sure what you were expecting, it’s just a tent with usual camping things. You decide to unfurl your sleeping bag and change your clothes while Leon is still away. The three Pokemon settle in the middle of the tent, and you crawl into your sleeping bag.
When Leon returns, you hear the clanging of pots and dishes. Outside the tent he wishes Charizard a goodnight before entering. He grins seeing all the Pokemon resting next to you. “Now that’s a picture.” His Rotom zips out but he flails to catch it before it does anything. “No! I’ll be in so much trouble if that hits Pokegram.”
You raise an eyebrow. “What do you make off all that? I imagine you don’t take it seriously if you’re letting me sleep your tent.”
He scratches the back of his head. “Huh? I just want to talk battle strategies…”
As he launches into the typical moves that Gossifleur and Eldegoss use and their counters, you realize that he earnestly just wanted to talk Pokemon. And boy, can Leon talk about Pokemon battles. You feel a little guilty hogging him as a resource, wouldn’t Gloria and Hop benefit more from his guidance?
Milo’s parting words echo in your mind. The thought of battling him makes you uncomfortable, and it was like he drew that line between you two. It definitely sounded like he wasn’t going to make his battle with you easy. Thinking of Milo as an opponent just didn’t sit well with you.
You began to drift to sleep somewhere around the part where Leon mentions something about… Gigantics? Maxismist? Something like that, that future you can deal with as you think about a certain peach-haired man as you slip into your dreams.
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saladejin · 4 years
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Call An Uber? | 09
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BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut
Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?
What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.4k
< masterpost >
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  “Uh, no you don’t.”
I gasped when the phone was suddenly plucked from my hands. It had been a struggle to find a close-by Uber service, but one had honestly just popped up!
“Bang PD-nim?”
The older man chuckled and returned the phone to my trembling hands. When had he even appeared next to me? He was dressed so casually that I had to look twice to make sure it was even him. 
“I can drop you home for a lot less, trust me (Y/n).” He laughed again, and it was obvious I had no choice but to follow him speechlessly. A week or so ago, this would have appeared as quite strange and inappropriate to many people, but I knew the stout CEO well enough now to place my trust in him.
“T-thank you so much, you really don’t have to…” I spluttered and gawked when his expensive car came into view. The reason why he’d even come along to the concert was still unknown. Up until this point, I’d been under the impression he usually didn't get involved with the showy stage side of things, but even so, he had obviously come of his own accord.
“It’s fine. After everything you’ve done for us tonight, it’s the least I can do.” Bang PD sighed, and I knew he was thinking about Soojin’s brashness from earlier in the day.
“That’s completely okay, I really enjoyed myself tonight,” I said calmly, thinking hard about what I was about to suggest. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping out like this more often. If they ever need anyone, that is.”
Bang PD smirked at me, and I knew he was teasing at the underlying feelings I had for the members in particular. The fact that I was already missing them and it hadn’t even been an hour said quite enough. There was no denying that it did play a big role in my offer, but it wasn’t everything of course.
“I can think of a few reasons why, but unfortunately it’s not in your job description.”
I laughed and exhaled in slight disappointment, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “I know, it’s only if they need someone though.”
The car ride was silent for a few minutes, and we would be reaching my house soon after seeing how fast his flashy car zipped around the streets and backroads of Seoul.
“I have something serious to say to you, (Y/n).”
I immediately grew apprehensive at his tone. I mean who wouldn’t after hearing something like that? I picked at the leather seat underneath me and willed my eyes to not drift towards the scenery rocketing past the window. I needed to show him my full attention here.
“I came tonight for one reason only, and that was to monitor you.”
Back at it again with the bluntness it seemed. Classic Bang PD.
“Monitoring me? That sounds kind of sinister.” I pursed my lips and trained my gaze onto the man’s bespectacled face. He wasn’t looking back, but it wasn’t as if I expected him to while he was driving anyway. I was, on the contrary, glad to not be confronted with his piercing eyes, because the anxiety about the direction this conversation had taken would have surely consumed me whole.
“It’s not that bad,” he said while chuckling, “I just wanted to check up and see how you were doing, but you never saw me backstage. Heaven forbid Soojin-ssi actually informed you of anything properly. I had an opening in my schedule, and I hadn’t visited the concerts for a while.”
I shook my head and laughed along with him. He knew exactly of his assistant’s behaviour, and it seemed he definitely wasn’t the only one. This wasn’t the outcome I was expecting, but I felt appreciative of his caring nature, nonetheless.
“What I noticed…” he then drew out, and a sense of uneasiness fell onto us both.
“Was your relationship with Bangtan themselves.”
Now the hammer dropped. Horror lit up like a wildfire inside me, and I suddenly thought about all my interactions with the boys so far. Dazed eyes scanned the disappearing road in front of me as the cogs within my mind started breaking to pieces. A simple touch could be considered crossing the line with them. I was only a mere staff member, therefore I couldn’t expect anything more or less than simply that, but thinking about it now reminded me that I definitely had not been acting like it.
I must have gone too far. Hell, I literally hugged two of them tonight! That’s a recipe for scandal disaster right there, what the fuck (Y/n).
“I can see your brain working, please don’t overthink about what I just said,” Bang PD’s tone became louder as if trying to speak over the flurry of thoughts. I couldn’t help but swallow thickly and sat back into the plush car seat behind me. I rubbed the clamminess off my palms and steeled myself to hear whatever he had to say next.
“Sorry PD-nim, I know I’ve been…closer than I need to be, I guess.”
He suddenly let out a wheeze of a laugh, and I wished to open some kind of window into his mind just to understand what was happening. He took one glance at my furrowed brows and stifled another laugh.
“No way (Y/n), I wasn’t going to say it was a bad thing at all! Well, hear me out please. I want to be serious for a minute.”
I let out a bellowing sigh of relief and managed to let any amusement die down. If he wanted to be this serious, it meant that something extremely important needed to be understood.
“The boys are solely focused on their idol careers, so when it comes to hiring new staff we try to avoid potential ‘risks’, so to speak. It’s a precautionary thing, but – you don’t have to concern yourself with that notion, because you’ve managed to prove yourself again and again. (Y/n), you’ve been working with us for only a few weeks now, but you’ve only solidified my opinions.”
I was smiling now, because the man’s words were so heartfelt and honest. I wondered straight away if he was about to open up to me somehow. This didn’t usually happen, right? Or maybe it did, because he just liked being a boss that staff members could be comfortable and adaptable with.
“You have the best of intentions, I know this for sure, but that isn’t the problem,” he continued while gaining a more solemn tone, “The issue itself, is attachment.”
Another hammer, ah yes. I should have seen this one coming from a mile away.
“Now, I don’t have a problem with you and the boys getting along well. Many of the staff are close with them, and it’s not something out of the ordinary because there are so many faculty members that have been with us from the beginning. It’s only natural.”
When he turned to gauge my response from over the rim of his glasses, I found myself nodding in earnest understanding. I completely agreed with what he was saying, because there was no way you wouldn’t form a substantial bond with the very people who had helped you rise to the top. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what the man was trying to get at exactly, though.
“You-”
 He stopped and cleared his throat loudly, obviously racking his brain for the right words to use. It left me dumbfounded, because Bang PD had always come right out with whatever was on his mind. Sometimes it was a little too harsh, but most people valued his opinions and appreciated his level of honesty whether it hurt them or not. This industry did teach their employees to deal with no-nonsense attitudes.
“Not including the backstage crew at the venue, you have been one of the youngest staff members we’ve hired in a while.” He finally sighed, and my mind created the imaginary train tracks steering straight to the point.
“I’m not fearing the attachment you may develop if you continue to spend time with them, but I do fear things going awry or their focuses being taken away from their careers. Usually, I would remove you from the situation without question right away, but I saw you with them tonight-”
I flooded with sudden embarrassment when he looked upwards to think again, as that meant he had most likely seen the hugging too. There was a cold dread settling into my stomach at the thought of getting ‘removed’. That would mean the cost of my job and everything I had worked for so far. I would feel empty, because now that the boys were in my life, I didn’t want them to just vanish.
Oh God, why had I let myself get attached already??
“I understand, actually,” I murmured, “and it would probably be for the best if I didn’t see them as much.” I managed to force it out through half gritted teeth. It really did hurt me to say, but I could see that it was the best option. Who knew what hardships would come later if I continued the way I was going?
“That’s not what I’m saying, I said I saw you with them tonight, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Bang PD started to slow down the car, and I knew we had finally reached the entrance to the carpark of my apartment building.
At his statement, I couldn’t help but feel confusion tickling the edges of my mind. The founder of Bighit shifted sideways in his seat to give me his full attention. Now, he could finally focus without having to divert his thoughts to not crashing and killing us both.
“They were nervous wrecks before the concert started. And I know this because I went in there just before you arrived to have a chat with them all. I could tell that Namjoon-ah would be just fine, and they all would’ve been in the end, but seeing the members like that is never comforting.”
I was fully enraptured by the man’s words, because I had never heard him speak with such a deep and sympathetic tone before. I speculated on when he had last talked to somebody like this.
“There wasn’t much I could do. I’ve supported them through the years, and they know they can always confide in me if they ever need to,” he continued while nodding forlornly. “But when it comes down to live events like these, there’s only so much I can say to help them out. And I'm rarely around as it is.”
The sudden silence urged me to convey my thoughts on the matter. “It’s nearly impossible to get rid of the nerves and doubts once they’re there anyway,” I spoke softly, eyes distant as I fiddled with my own hands uneasily. The atmosphere was more disconcerting than ever now that we had managed to find the time to stop and think.
“That’s what I thought too, but then you came in.” Bang PD chuckled and started tapping his fingers on his leather lined steering wheel to an imaginative rhythm.
“I literally watched as you made their tension disappear like it was nothing. Many people envy you when it comes to your ability to read a situation like that, because it was like you knew exactly what to do, and I’m sure they appreciated it more than you know.”
I almost choked at his sincerity. I hadn’t seriously done all that much, just held a small conversation before the show had commenced. It was only because one of the stylists had asked me to help out, otherwise I may not have even made contact at that time.
“Really? Thank you so much for saying that,” I dipped my head lightly, because I also wanted to hide the sudden spell of emotions from showing too much.
“Afterwards as well.” He sighed, and I watched him begin to smile with approval. “They were so happy, but you made them even happier in an instant. Jimin-ah too. Anyone who cared to watch could see it.”
At this point, I couldn’t help but laugh in a bizarre mixture of disbelief and amazement. Maybe I had just felt so ecstatic in their presence that I hadn’t even known their behaviour was changing too.
“This isn’t something they’ll likely admit, but I think I have an idea about how they’re feeling.” Bang PD cleared his throat. “You might just be the consolation they need, (Y/n). They have always had each other and their many supportive staff to help them find their footing, but I think you might be the key to keeping them there. To reassure them, using your viewpoint as a fan of sorts.”
He finally stopped to breathe, and my mind was churning once again at the revelation. He wasn’t even finished, and it seemed he had much left to say.
“You’re basically like a spokesperson. I know they wouldn’t have reason to doubt or disregard anything you have to say about them from their music choices to even their stage images. Min Yoongi came to talk with me the other day, telling me all about how he’d found a way to get over a certain stump in lyric writing.”
“Ah, that boy.” I muffled another chuckle and the softest of smirks made its way onto my features. I was honestly so happy to even think about being a positive influence in their lives, it made me glow from the inside out.
“It’s why I’ve made a decision,” Bang PD spoke again, and I recognised the familiar firmness to his tone that usually meant he was about to drop something big.
“Taking into account what I mentioned before about the attachment, I think it could actually help us out instead. As their presence worldwide grows, so will the pressure, and I want someone they’re comfortable with to be there for them as a support.”
“So, that’s me? What will happen? What am I going to have to do exactly?” I stammered, feeling considerably warmed and buzzed with excitement at the producer’s words. Everything he was declaring sounded like a wistful dream to me right now, but to say I also wasn’t feeling the pressure would be a lie.
“Nothing extravagant just yet.” He held up a hand while stifling a chuckle. “But it’s why I’ve decided to involve you in more activities.”
Okay, now the excitement was ready to detonate.
“And that’s why I’m asking you to go along with them on their next tour.” 
            Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  
tagged: @l4life, @joyful-jimin, @gee-nee​, @m0chilattae​, @rossemayme​, @doilooklikeinoe​
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taeguboi · 4 years
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“Go Get ‘Em” - Jimin x Tall!Reader [Fluff]
Where are my tall girls at? I wanted to show some appreciation by writing this small piece after seeing this post here 
A/N: I am only 5′7 myself and I’ve only experienced something similar once, when I was seeing someone shorter for maybe a couple of weeks, so I’m really sorry if I have written anything inaccurate or anything that makes anyone feel offended. I am additionally sorry for not proofreading before posting and for not being very creative lmao 
Fiction Masterlist
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You always looked so amazing to Jimin. You were iconic with the way you could pull off any look, whether it was those high waisted trousers paired with a crop top or high heels with a red dress.
It all started with a glance across the room when you were spending time with your friends and he was hanging with his. He was adorable. He has this cute smile that feels like sunshine radiating across the room and you remember how his cute little hands grasped his coffee cup that day as he took a sip of that caffeinated drink when you first saw him.
Jimin was actually the first one to approach you after you had spent about half an hour being hyped up by all your friends to go over and talk to him because, quote, “guys just don’t have the balls anymore”. 
You were pleasantly surprised that you didn’t have to be the one to talk to the guy first. You were always taller than everyone else in school and along the years, you had developed a certain sense of self-consciousness about your height after repeated comments about you and the guys you’d date. 
“Doesn’t it weird you out?”
“Why would you even date a guy who’s shorter than you?”
“You know maybe you shouldn’t wear your heels to the prom y/n…”
It bothered you and it hindered you from dating anyone at all in the many years you’ve been out of education now. You always had to be the one to ask a guy out because he was either too intimidated or embarrassed to even approach you, yet the stark reality was that you were super shy and you could give anyone all the love in the world if you wanted to.
You and Jimin sat for hours talking once you had introduced yourselves and gotten comfortable with each other. He didn’t even appear to care when you got up out of your chair when he offered to walk you home; in fact, he held his elbow out for you to link on to and you happily walked down the street together.
When Jimin asked you to be his girlfriend, it felt like a God send. You finally found somebody who was handsome, charming, extremely good abs… who cared if he wasn’t tall, dark and handsome, just dark and handsome?
Well for some reason, a lot of strangers seemed to be bothered by the appearance of a taller girl with a guy who doesn’t reach her height. Weird looks and snide remarks when they thought you couldn’t see or hear was kind of a bummer. It wasn’t even anyone else’s business though; any other couple walking together hand in hand in public and they probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid, not even wanting to see or get involved with any of their public displays of affection.
You stopped wearing your heels after a couple of months of the relationship. In fact, you threw many of them out or gave them to charity, bar the expensive ones. You started to make sure that whenever you took a photo with Jimin, you were both seated or on a slope with him on the raised part. You found yourself starting to have to justify why you’re dating him whenever anyone came at you with those same remarks you’d received in high school… Yeah, it turns out people don’t grow up fast, and they don’t learn to defy social expectations and instead encourage them and all the prejudices that some with staying ‘normal’. 
One day, just as the two of you were getting ready together for a night out with friends - who by the way had been nothing but fully supportive of you two being together - Jimin had noticed something. As gorgeous as you were to him in your outfit for the night, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed some of your most classic outfits with which you’d wear heels.
Jimin adored you from the moment he saw you across the room. Sure, it was a little surreal when you brought yourself to your feet on that first day he met you and you may have slightly towered over him, but you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a girlfriend. You’re loyal, warm, funny and to him you’re a supermodel. 
Jimin is proud to be dating you, to have you by his side. Sure, the comments about his height did make him feel a little conscious at times, but there was nothing he could do about his height, or his feelings, or that his soul mate was a few inches taller than him.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah Jimin?” you ask, applying your lipstick as you sat at the dresser.
“I… uh… Not that I’m telling you what to wear, but… Don’t you normally have… a different pair of shoes with that outfit?” he questions, coming up behind you and rubbing your shoulders affectionately.
Your heart sank a little at this, knowing that the pair of shoes you normally would have worn with your best dress and prettiest cardigan were on the top of the closet out of sight and out of mind where you couldn’t see them to dwell on the fact that they make you miles taller than your boyfriend.
“I know…I just fancied a change I guess” you lie with a sigh, not thinking about how Jimin can see and read your expression through the mirror.
The way your head tilted down and your lips didn’t even so much as point just a little bit upwards from each corner told Jimin that you felt something different to what you were telling him.
“Oh, really?” he asks, seeing if he could maybe gently coax it out of you.
“Yeah…” is all you can reply.
“That’s a shame” he sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek as you pop the lid back on your lipstick. “They were kind of my favourite on you, that’s all”
You take a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh. You know you can’t, or shouldn’t, hold this in anymore. This was eating at you for real now.
The other day at the park was what really did it for you. Some dude came up to the two of you, an old school friend of Jimin’s. At first, he seemed friendly enough and the three of you were chatting and getting along just fine. It was what he said when he had to go that changed your opinion of him and apparently your opinion of how you should dress around your own boyfriend.
“Snagged a tall girl, eh Jimin? How much did you pay for her then?”
You managed to laugh it off right there and then, convincing yourself that the guy had non malicious intention but you couldn’t stop thinking about those words, running through your mind, even in his voice though you barely knew him, like it was just a few seconds ago.
“I’m sorry, I guess I just didn’t want people thinking you’d spent a great deal of money to have me on your arm” you reply in a bad attempt to make light of your problem, not meaning for it to come out as rude or snappy as it does.
Jimin’s face dropped as you produced that sentence. You’d both been over this before. You had spoken about the highly likely chance that any time the two of you went out together, someone would say something. Your relationship is perfectly normal, everything about this is perfectly normal; people just aren’t used to seeing the height advantage being on a girl and not the guy because it’s not something they see often. 
You had so confidently told Jimin that you loved him no matter what and that you wouldn’t let this affect you… he was kind of surprised to hear you say this now after weeks of you being silent on the matter. He thought you might have actually recovered from the initial shock of it all.
“Y/n…” sighs Jimin, giving you a big cuddle from behind by snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry babe” you sigh, a little smile not failing to escape your mouth from the hug.
“Talk to me” he advises, sitting down on the bed next to the stool you’re sat on.
Turning to face him, you do your best not to make yet another sigh. 
“I feel like I embarrass you” you pout rigidly, eyebrows furrowed.
“Honey…” Jimin drawls out, reaching for your hands to hold. “It’s a lengthy process I know; brushing off the stupid comments and the strange looks but… In the end, that’s their problem, not ours that they don’t think that’s how a couple should look. You even said yourself, it’s what’s inside that counts. I remember that specifically when you were telling me how amazing and charming I am…”
You playfully push Jimin’s shoulder as you sit down next to him on the bed and you smirk at his little light-hearted comment.
“I guess I’m just finding it difficult still, even after all these years” you admit.
“Come here” he replies, bringing you in for a hug.
Jimin’s hugs feel perfect, not like what anybody else speculated. It’s no different to that of a girl being shorter than a guy, really, and Jimin knows this himself from having previously dated girls shorter than himself.
“I’m sorry”
“No, no, we’re not doing that again” Jimin intervenes before you can allow the sting in your eyes to turn into tears.
“But I--”
“Tonight, we’re taking a stand. We’re in control” he insists, rubbing your back and then pushing you away so that he can look you in the eyes. 
“We’re going to embrace it. You’re going to put on those sexy heels and you’re going to wow everybody and you’re going to make everybody jealous that they can’t have you. And I’m going to hold my head up high and be proud that only I get to dance with you and I’m the only one who gets to kiss you”
“What about the people who say all those horrible emasculating comments about you though?” you ask. This is one of the biggest reasons you wear flats more often now. It hurts you to watch Jimin being insulted in that way. He isn’t feminine or any less of a man at all. He’s a gentleman who treats you right, he loves you and adores you and he makes it be known to you, and God knows that in the bedroom, he has this way with his words that really make you feel a certain way… 
“I stopped listening to those people years ago” replies Jimin.
He’s right! Even if this talk only temporarily boosts your confidence about the issue, you’re going to fling these flats off, go straight to the closet, and god dammit you’re going to rock it!
The grin on your face shows Jimin that his words have gotten to you just right. He says nothing as he watches you reach for a foot to slide off your shoe and fling it across the room.
“Woah, easy there, tiger!” he jests watching you grab the other shoes from your other foot.
“Okay, sorry, got carried away” you giggle this time carefully placing the shoe on the ground.
“It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you happy” he smiles.
He’s right. You are happy. You love those heels. Your fashion taste is a part of who you are. Letting other people influence the way you dress meant letting other people influence your personality.
As you rush to that closet to reach for the heels, you grin a little more as you think about all the things Jimin has told you he admires about you and loves about your height. He loves how you can reach things for him that he sometimes can’t. He loves how you could have a career just sitting and looking pretty if you really wanted to. He even loves how when you’re both getting in the mood with each other, he doesn’t have to bend over to devour one of your breasts with his mouth.
It’s these reasons and a lot more beneath the surface that Jimin adores you increasingly with each day that passes. He watches you try to keep your balance as you put on your heels and he looks at you with such endearment. 
You know when you experience something and have one of those ‘wow’ moments? Those times in which your heart flutters and you’re rendered speechless at the sight of that certain something? That’s exactly how Jimin feels as he watches you walk back over to him in all your glory in the one pair of shoes that you had really wanted to wear deep down tonight.
“Stunning” is all Jimin can say as he brings himself to his feet to bring you in for a sweet kiss.
_________________________
Fiction Masterlist
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lymazhu · 4 years
Text
Lingering Effects
rating: PG
pairing: Jon/Martin cw: loss of time/disorientation, accidentally being compelled to answer a question
written for Day 6 of TMAHCWeek with the prompt accident, with a bit of confusion/delirium. 
set between 159-160
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189176
The dull throbbing that filled his mind before the haze of sleep could even dissipate made it clear that today was not going to be one of his better days. It was hard to even force his eyes open. Beside him the bed was cold and empty. Jon must have made it as best he could without disturbing Martin, so it was only the sounds coming from the kitchen that pushed away the momentary fear that gripped him. No, he told himself. Their time at the safehouse wasn't just a foolish dream. If he walked out of the bedroom he would see Jon making breakfast. Jon would look up at him, and there would be a soft, fond expression on his face that he’d long ago abandoned hopes of seeing until the first time it actually happened. That was real; it was the mist of the Lonely that wasn’t. Not anymore.
Being under the covers was stiflingly hot, but as soon as he made a move to leave the warmth of the bed his skin erupted in goosebumps. He'd never had much problem with lower temperatures or dampness before, not with living in London for so long. Now, though, the chill crept so easily into his bones. Drowned out everything that had changed from normal and comforting to oppressive and overwhelming. It had been getting better the longer he was away from the Lonely, but his dreams the night before had been full of fog and Peter's voice casually speculating about whether Martin would work more efficiently if he had a little chat with the Archivist's assistants.
“Martin?” Jon’s voice broke the silence, shaking him out of a daze. Martin wasn’t entirely sure if the man sounded distant because he was still in the kitchen or if it was just the way his brain was processing sounds at the moment. He realized it was the former when Jon continued, getting louder as he drew closer. Too loud. “I’ve made you an omelette with some of the herbs we picked up the other day. It, ah, should be to your liking but if not I-” Jon’s voice faltered as he reached the doorway, and Martin forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes. A variety of unpleasant feelings twisted within him. He must look particularly awful if he made Jon stop short. He didn’t want to give Jon time to confirm it, so he forced himself to speak.
“Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.” Please leave me alone, Martin left unsaid. 
By the time he’d managed to make it to the table, having given up on trying to fix the rat’s nest his hair had become, the food Jon had put effort into making was barely lukewarm. It would probably have been delicious on another day. He managed about half of it between sips of over-brewed tea before he set his fork down. The sound of metal against porcelain was jarring enough to make him flinch, even though he was the one who’d done it.  Old guilt rose in him at the idea of letting good food go to waste, but the thought of trying to force down another bite made his throat feel tight.
“I’m not very hungry.” He didn’t add that he wasn’t very anything right now, but from the looks of it Jon knew. Part of him resented that, even though it wasn’t exactly something that would require superhuman knowledge to catch.
“Not feeling well today, I take it. I...wasn’t up for eating this morning either. Perhaps we caught something in the village.” Martin knew that on a better day he would have appreciated that olive branch. Would have agreed, or maybe even made some joke or another despite both of them knowing perfectly well that their relative states had nothing to do with the flu. Today, though, the reminder that Jon hadn’t even bothered to make himself food was the last thing he wanted. He’d noticed that there was no second plate in the sink, but he’d been trying not to think about it. Not to mention that the way Jon had avoided asking him a question spoke volumes. 
After Jon had cleared away the dishes and Martin had pretended not to see the way the man’s hands trembled or the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, they sat together in the main room. At first Jon had sat beside him, but his weight against Martin’s side didn’t have its usual comforting effect. It had been stifling, and every shift of the man’s body or sound of a  flipped page made Martin tense. At some point, Martin wasn’t sure how long after they’d sat down, Jon had pretended that he had left something in the kitchen and settled in the armchair upon his return. 
More of the day passed that way; from time to time Martin would register that the direction of the muddled sunlight coming through the windows had changed, but mostly his thoughts were faint and distant. Lost as soon as they’d registered, except for when some sound or another would cut through everything to send a stab of discomfort through him. He could feel Jon’s eyes on him. It wasn’t comforting. His skin prickled under the man’s stare, and he was about to ask him to stop when it happened. 
“What’s wrong, Martin?” Martin had long enough to look up, shocked, before the compulsion forced the words from his mouth. “I woke up this morning with Peter’s voice in my head and thought I was still in the Lonely because your side of the bed didn’t even look slept in. I don’t remember the last time I saw you eat and that scares me. I can see you’re in withdrawal and I still remember that woman who came to me describing what you did to her, every single sound and bright color and taste is overwhelming today and part of me is still waiting to find out this whole thing is the punchline to a particularly unfunny joke.” 
As everything poured out, he could hear Jon apologize, tell him in a panicked voice that he didn’t mean to. It didn’t remove the effect, though, and by the time he had control over himself again he didn’t particularly want to tell Jon it was okay. He didn’t say anything more at all before he stood and walked out of the room. Jon was still speaking, but there was nothing supernatural to his tone anymore so Martin wasn’t forced to listen or comprehend what he was saying. 
The next time he came back to himself, the sun was low in the sky. Long shadows and rich orange light stretched across the floor. His thoughts were still clouded and his body heavy, but he was at least able to move without feeling out of sync with his own body. There had to have been more to the day than the few scraps of memory he could pull out of the fog. Something more than food that turned his stomach and Jon compelling him. But what it was, he couldn’t recall.
 He remembered clearly the way it felt to have the answer forced out of him, but the actual words he’d said were another story. All he knew was that he’d been so tired and so angry. That he hadn’t wanted to listen to Jon’s desperate apologies. Part of him still didn’t, but he knew they needed to talk. He’d made his choice; being by Jon’s side, loving him, sometimes meant dealing with things that he shouldn’t have to. And Martin knew that Jon tried his best not to use his powers on him but he’d been getting weaker as the days went by. It was probably only a matter of time before he slipped, and it was better that it happened now rather than when they were out in town. That still didn’t make it okay, but he needed to look at things objectively. 
Jon was still in the armchair when Martin found him, staring out the window. Given the way he startled when Martin’s hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder, he hadn’t heard him approach. The look of shock on his face was quickly replaced by shame. “O-oh, Martin...I really am so-” “Jon.” It wasn’t unkind, but Martin’s tone left no room for interpretation. “I’m aware things are difficult for you, and I know that you’re trying, but- please never compel me again. I don’t remember what I said, but I’m sure I would have chosen my words better if they hadn’t been forced from me. I know I’ve been doing better the longer I’ve been out of the Lonely, but today was bad. Still is, really, but I can actually keep thoughts in my head long enough to be able to talk.” A sigh escaped Martin as he made his way to the couch, motioning for Jon to join him. His instincts pushed for him to soften his words a bit more, to reassure Jon that everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Drawing limits, having boundaries, that wasn’t something unacceptable. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt a bit to see how cautious Jon was as he sat down, carefully avoiding sitting too close to him. 
“You’re right. I mean, o-of course you’re right. It’s been a while since I’ve had a statement, and that tends to affect my interest in regular food. Among...other things. But that doesn’t excuse my forcing an answer out of you. Nor does the fact that I didn’t do it intentionally. I am sorry, but that doesn’t mean you need to forgive me.” 
“I know.” Martin didn’t quite feel up to smiling, not yet, but he placed his hand over Jon’s. “We can talk about it more later, work out a system. Figure things out. For now let’s just...agree that it’s on hold.” He brushed a lock of loose hair from Jon’s face, tucking it behind the man’s ear.
“I love you. That hasn’t changed.” Martin added after a few moments.  The silence that fell between them this time, as Jon leaned wordlessly into his touch, had a much different quality. If he wasn’t still oversensitive to sound, Martin might have missed Jon’s eventual response, soft and buried in his jumper as it was.
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Waiting For You (Jack x Zhao Zi Story) Chapter 1
“Zhao Zi, if you stare any harder at the door, it will burst into flames.”
Zhao Zi lurched back into reality, ripping his eyes away from the kitchen door to look at Yi Qi’s brown eyes glittering in amusement.
“Why are you so insistent on knowing the new chef? Given our experience with the last few, I would’ve thought you would want to steer clear of that kind of demented folk.”
Perhaps it had just been bad luck, but the restaurant’s endless parade of chefs had resulted in slight trepidation amongst the waitstaff about who the newcomer would be. The chef before this one had the habit of throwing literal knives when someone or something pissed him off. The one before that had emotional breakdowns every once in a while and would lock themselves up in the walk-in freezer for half an hour. And not to mention the one who used the kitchen pantry as his own personal food supply. He would “shop” for items, often the expensive stuff like truffles and Wagyu beef, and take them home to host parties; when being ousted he remained adamant that he hadn’t been stealing.
Each of the previous chefs had cooked spectacularly, but their inability to handle the pressure--or their literal thievery--had made the restaurant owner Tang Yi fire them without hesitation.
Zhao Zi turned fully towards the table again and tucked into his French onion soup. The restaurant’s kitchen was massive, filled with different food stations and prep tables galore. In the corner away from the action, was an area where wait staff could grab food or take their scheduled break. One of the perks of working at the restaurant was that they would occasionally receive free meals. Zhao Zi, a self-identified foodie, could not have been any happier with that particular perk. Sometimes he was able to eat dishes that people had to pay hundreds to eat, for free.
“I’m just curious as to who the new chef is going to be. I mean, c’mon Yi Qi. You know we’ve had quite a string of bad luck.”
“Well...you don’t have to tell me that,” Yi Qi muttered, rubbing her wrist distractedly. Her wrist had been the unfortunate receiver of the last knife that had been thrown by the previous chef. She had not been the intended target, but some things could not be forgiven. When Tang Yi, the owner, heard the news, he had dismissed the chef on the spot and assured Yi Qi that any medical expenses would be paid. Yi Qi had worn a protective band on her wrist for a month and now had a shiny scar to show for it.
“I wonder what their specialty is? I don’t know how we stay afloat. Our menu changes every time a new chef parades through this door!”
“I think that has become the novelty of it. Everytime we fire a chef and the media gets a hold of it, they start conducting polls on what our next specialty food will be.”
“I mean you can’t fault Tang Yi. Whether they are crazy or not, he does find the top people in the culinary field,” Yi Qi agreed.
Tang Yi, their boss, was a no-nonsense restaurant owner. He came out of nowhere a few years before and opened this restaurant, somehow managing to curate the top talent in the field. People wondered how a nobody could convince top chefs, sous-chefs, maître d’s and sommeliers to abandon their posts and come join his restaurant; given Tang Yi’s dubious past—it was rumored he had been affiliated with the gang activity—many figured it had been blackmail.
Despite that, or perhaps because of all the mystery, Trapped surged to the top of every national restaurant list and garnered many recognitions and awards. It’s ever changing and experimental menu, mostly due to the revolving door of chefs, kept it fresh. Though the food changed, the quality certainly did not slip. Zhao Zi had to interview extensively to be a waiter at the restaurant. It was a position that many people in the service industry, from long-time waiters to culinary students, vied for because it included great pay and benefits as well as the chance to work for the culinary greats.
Zhao Zi sighed. He loved working here at the restaurant. Despite the occasional uppity customer who felt they were too rich to have decent manners, he enjoyed the clientele and enjoyed ensuring that they had a great experience. Plus the staff at the restaurant was like family, something that was nice to have given that he had no actual family.
He had lost his parents when he was very young and had grown up with his grandmother. His grandmother, a small but feisty woman, always made sure that he was well taken care of. She put him through school, and encouraged his love for food blogging and consumption. He missed his grandmother’s cooking the most. She made the most wonderful feasts, plates full of steaming, richly flavored food that warmed his stomach and soul.
Stricken with a bout of pneumonia, she passed away a couple of years ago in her sleep.
The door to the kitchen creaked open, and Zhao Zi’s head whipped around to see who had come in. He groaned when he realized it was just Jun Wei, another waiter.
The kitchen staff knew the identity of the new chef; they had had some closed-kitchen training with them to work out the new menu and how the kitchen would be run under their direction. However, it was a tradition for the kitchen staff to not reveal the identity of the new chef to the waitstaff, and legally mandatory for them not to leak information to the press. Tang Yi had made them sign non-disclosures even before the parade of chefs began. Though they had a legal obligation not to, the staff knew that helping drive the media into a speculation frenzy helped garner the restaurant free publicity and more clients which meant a prosperous business. They also just loved to take part in the fun.
“So, sorry to disappoint,” Jun Wei said sarcastically as he made his way over to Zhao Zi and Yi Qi. The waiters at Trapped all wore black button down shirts, black slacks and a black vest. Jun Wei was tall, with an athletic build and wore his uniform well. When he drew close, he reached out to ruffle Zhao Zi’s hair.
“Stop it!” Zhao Zi cried, fending him off. “You know the boss will kill me if he sees my hair like this,” He dropped his spoon, reaching up to pat down his hair. Jun Wei laughed and took up the seat next to Yi Qi. A line-cook came by and dropped off a bowl of soup in front of him; Jun Wei thanked them gratefully.
The cooks in the kitchen and the waitstaff had a mutual respect for each other. They understood that they needed to work cohesively in order to run the restaurant well. Their boss wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Has the dining room been set yet or do they need help?” Zhao Zi asked Jun Wei. He finished off his soup bringing over the bowl to the sink for cleaning.
“I think you might want to go out there and help out a bit. Hong Ye looks a bit...peeved.”
Hong Ye was the restaurant’s maître d. She was a formidable character, strong in personality and with very high standards. She was Tang Yi’s sister and together they ran the restaurant like a pair of benevolent dictators.
Zhao Zi nodded, already heading towards the door. As he was about to push out the doors, someone pushed them in and Zhao Zi jumped back to avoid being hit. The person who walked through the door was...different. He had red wine-colored hair, a black leather jacket and boots to match. He was tall and lithe. His face was nothing short of elegant, a beautifully carved Adonis with a smirk.
“I am so sorry, sir!” he squeaked.
The man’s smirk grew wider.  “No need to apologize.”
“How can I help you, sir?” Zhao Zi asked, with a slight bow. It was a habit to address all clientele as ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ or ‘miss.’ He figured that having gotten past Hong Ye, this person was surely some kind of business partner on his way to chat with Tang Yi. He wasn’t dressed like a businessman, but Tang Yi’s visitors were rarely corporate looking characters.  They were often older gangster looking types, or young ones who came with their chests puffed out looking for Tang Yi and referring to him as “boss.” This one however, with his green leather jacket, simple white t-shirt and motorcycle helmet in hand was definitely one of the more interesting ones.
“Do you call everyone, sir, or is that one particularly reserved for me, shorty?” The redhead asked, smirk still in place.
Zhao Zi blushed. Sure he was practically a head shorter than the man who was standing unbearably close, but it hadn’t been necessary to point it out.
“I...uh—”
“You can follow me,” came a deep voice from behind him.
Zhao Zi turned, hearing Tang Yi’s voice. Tang Yi wore a soft gray cashmere shirt and black slacks, a rich man’s simple daytime outfit. Tang Yi turned and walked back towards his office, clearly expecting the newcomer to follow him.
“Sure thing, boss.” The man said, moving around Zhao Zi to follow Tang Yi. They went into Tang Yi’s back office, which Zhao Zi had only been to once, during his interview. It was a beautiful room, decorated in splendorous dark woods and emerald accents. It was truly a gentlemen’s den. Zhao Zi let out a breath and pushed through the doors to the dining room to see how he could help.
---
Hong Ye wasn’t necessarily mean when she told someone off, but rather she was incisive. She chose her words carefully, ensuring that each word held its own weight and cut the person to their core.
She gazed about the dining room in disgust.
“So far we have fallen in our standards it would seem,” she said in an emotionless, measured tone. “Dust on the wine bottles, crumbs on the floor. Wine glasses on the wrong side of the table. Did you think I would not notice?”
She gazed at the staff. A beautiful woman standing at just over five feet, her stature did not stop her from seemingly towering over anyone. She wore a white billowy shirt, with draped arms and simple black pants.
“If you think for a second I would not fire all of you in a heartbeat then I’ve clearly haven’t made myself clear enough. Perhaps I have been too soft.”
The dining room was in a state of slight disarray. They had just changed the decor and some of the details were still being worked out. Zhao Zi liked the new look. Just like their food, the restaurant underwent certain changes to match the style of the new chef.
Looking around Zhao Zi was able to learn a little bit about the chef who would soon join them. Whereas before the restaurant had adopted the sophisticated golds and burnt oranges that matched their emphasis on Thai food, now the room was decorated in swathes of red with accents of greens, yellows and blues. The room took on a more intimate and private feel with dimmer lighting; it invited introspection and commiseration. Zhao Zi was reminded of the temples he and his grandmother would visit while growing up.
Perhaps the new chef had an affinity for traditional Taiwanese culture? Zhao Zi couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment. It didn’t seem like they would be getting any exotic foods with this new chef.
Hong Ye disrupted his thoughts by barking out a list of orders and so they spent the rest of the day fixing up the dining room, rearranging again and again the furniture and decor in order to satisfy Hong Ye’s vision. The restaurant was closed to the public this week in order to prepare for the debut of the new chef, so they worked until Hong Ye was satisfied.
Sometime later in the evening, collapsing on to a chair, Jun Wei groaned, “I am so tired. Man, at least we get to eat.”
That was another perk of working at Trapped. All new chefs cooked a full meal for the wait staff thereby making them always the first to fully try the restaurant's new menu. Tang Yi might have been an emotionless, mysterious boss, but he was a good one.
Zhao Zi was nearly bouncing in his seat; he was always excited when it came to trying out the new menu. He often raced home afterwards to update his food blog. He wrote his thoughts and feelings about the food, tried to describe the flavors accurately and fairly and described how the decor tied in with the food and the mood it established. He was careful to not post his accounts until after the restaurant debuted its new chef to the public; he wrote anonymously and was careful to avoid any details that would identify him as one of the staff.
Zhao Zi had quite a following. He received a lot of correspondence from newspapers and magazines inviting him to join their staff or asking for an interview. It was tempting, but Zhao Zi truly loved his coworkers and the ability to have an inside look at the unique restaurant. He loved watching it come together, each piece necessary to its core: Tang Yi’s curation of staff, Hong Ye’s organization, the kitchen staff’s passion and the waitstaff’s excellence. Each review he wrote about the restaurant was like a letter of deep appreciation to his family, because at the end of the day, that’s what they were. The reviews, however, did not shy away from critiquing the food, and were honest about any faults that were found.
Hong Ye thanked them for their hard work and instructed them to sit down. It was time. From the kitchen doors came first Tang Yi who somehow still managed to look put together and unaffected after a long day of work. Behind him came the new chef.
It was the red-haired man.
Zhao Zi’s eyes widened as he took in the new chef’s apparel. He wore a black chef’s jacket with a red trim that seemed as if it had been tailored. It hugged his body like a glove, showing off his athletic form. The man walked casually behind Tang Yi, a casual smirk in place. They stood at the head of the dining room.
“Thank you all for your hard work today.” Tang Yi began his speech, his deep voice carried across the room. He truly had an impenetrable expression. The only time Zhao Zi had seen him crack a smile was with Hong Ye and even that had happened three years ago. “In order to thank you for bringing his vision to life and for the future work on which you will embark together, our new chef has created a menu for us to dine on tonight. You will find the new menu in the booklets in front of you. Please order as you wish.”
The first dinner with the staff was not only a thank you, but also a test to the new chef. It was their chance to command the kitchen fully. They hired extra wait staff for the occasion so that Trapped’s staff could enjoy their meal. As a reward for the night's hard-work, Tang Yi would in turn treat the kitchen staff to dinner at some of the leading restaurants in Taiwan. Cold he was, but benevolent.
“Before you start, our chef would like to say a few words.”
The redhead stepped up beside Tang Yi and greeted them all with a grin. “Hello,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and rich. Zhao Zi swore he heard some of the women and men swoon in response. Yi Qi’s cheeks immediately turned bright red. He himself even felt a slight swooping sensation in his stomach that he decidedly ignored.
“My name is Jack. You may refer to me as Chef Jack.”
Jack was an odd name. Zhao Zi wondered whether the chef had spent some time abroad. Plus, did he not have a last name?
“Today I have prepared a traditional Taiwanese menu, with my own personal touches. I hope you enjoy it.”
He nodded and led the way back to the kitchen to start the service.
“Taiwanese, huh,” Yi Qi said as they all turned back to the table. A low murmur was already filling the room. They opened the menu and were scandalized. “But...but this looks like the kind of food you would get at a corner shop! Why would anyone want to pay top dollar for this?”
Zhao Zi had to agree. The menu items weren’t particularly exciting, but perhaps the execution would be. He settled for a bowl of beef noodle soup. You could tell a lot about a chef by how they executed the simplest of dishes. Beef noodle soup was common, but every restaurant and food-stand had their own closely guarded recipe that made the dish their own. Zhao Zi was interested to see the chef’s take on it.
Orders taken, the team settled into their seats, wine in hand.
“I wonder what made Tang Yi go for this guy,” Yi Qi questioned. She lifted the glass of white wine to her lips. “Has anyone ever heard of him? At least we had heard about the others.” She looked at Zhao Zi in particular, seeing as he was the one who always displayed more knowledge about the industry.
“No,” he shrugged. “But Tang Yi has never failed us before..”
Jun Wei peered at him. “You are not as excited about this menu as I’ve seen you be at other times.”
Zhao Zi laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit difficult to be excited about something I can get anywhere. Plus no one can beat my grandma’s beef noodle soup. Not even a top chef, or whatever this guy is.”
“You sure?” Jun Wei challenged, a growing grin taking over his face. He nodded towards the food that was now exiting the kitchen. “We will find out soon enough.”
When Zhao Zi’s beef noodle soup was set in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. Plating up an appealing looking soup was always a challenge and the chef’s arrangement of this one was stunning. The broth was dark and rich, contrasting greatly with the white noodles. The bok choy was a deep green and accented by the light green scallions sprinkled across the top. The beef was sliced thinly and served on top of the noodles. Zhao Zi saw hints of red flakes, indicating the soup would come with heat.
He stuck his chopstick in and pulled out a wad of noodles. They were well cooked with a slight firmness. Zhao Zi brought the noodles to his mouth.
A moan escaped him.
Jun Wei and Yi Qi stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Zhao Zi flushed a deep red, quickly chewing up the noodles.
“That good, huh,” Jun Wei laughed.
Zhao Zi nodded, but had no words. He continued to dig into the soup, enjoying the tenderness of the beef contrasted by the structural fidelity of the noodles. The hint of licorice flavor in the soup was perfect and there was something else, something Zhao Zi couldn’t pinpoint quite just yet, that tied the whole thing together.
His grandmother had been an expert at making beef noodle soup. She had her own recipe and made it for him constantly. It was his comfort food. So he wondered what was the story behind this meal. Despite its clear appeal to the palette, a symphony of tasty perfection, he felt something was missing. Something that told a story and gave a hint as to who Jack was.
The team enjoyed their meal. Yi Qi praised her vermicelli oyster soup and Jun Wei had a second order of soup dumplings.
“Well I guess you were right. Tang Yi didn’t let us down. That was amazing,” Yi Qi said. “The public won’t know what hit them.”
After dinner, they always completed anonymous surveys that were given to the chef. While he knew most of the staff praised the food, he often tried to give good constructive criticism. For his beef noodle soup, he wrote: Amazing soup with a deep, rich flavor and delightful hint of licorice. A flavorful adventure. However, I can’t help but wonder, where’s the story? What are you trying to say?
Zhao Zi knew that previous chefs had never responded to their critiques. Oftentimes they thought themselves above the staff, an unfortunate result of early career success and zero-humility. He wondered if this chef would be the same.
When he got home that night, he stepped into his house and felt...alone. Putting his things away, Zhao Zi slipped into his pajamas, a big t-shirt and soft sweat pants before walking over to the little alter he kept for his grandmother and lighting a candle for her. “Nǎinai, I had some pretty amazing beef soup today. World class,” he whispered to her. “It still wasn’t as good as yours.” He bowed his head and stood up, making his way upstairs to bed.
--- Back in the kitchen, Jack looked over the survey responses that had been submitted by the waitstaff. A lot of them expressed the fact that they had been surprised at the simplicity of the menu, but were blown away by the food. Good. Jack liked surprising people with the unexpected.
He knew he didn’t necessarily carry himself like a professional chef, and that he was relatively unknown and would therefore be put under a lot of scrutiny, but Jack had no doubts that he would succeed in impressing the public. He would settle for nothing less.
“How did the staff take it?” Tang Yi asked, slipping into the seat next to him.
“I seem to have pleasantly surprised them.”
“I expect you to do the same to the critics.”
“I will, boss,” Jack affirmed. He pulled out one of the survey cards, “Do you know who this is?” Jack asked. Tang Yi took the card and read through it.
He smirked.
“What is your story then?”
Jack smiled back, coyly taking back the card and slipping it into his pocket. Tang Yi and him had met under unconventional circumstances. Tang Yi did not know much about Jack’s background, no one did, but in their time of interaction he grew to realize that Jack was amazing in the kitchen. Now he was using that to his advantage.
Jack stood and lazily saluted Tang Yi before slipping through the kitchen doors.
-------------------
I will be posting updates to this story on AO3.
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vgckwb · 4 years
Text
ML: Isolation Chapter 8: Deals
Arien walked into class the next day to see a crowd had gathered around Ivan. He decided to follow suit. The reason why became apparent, as Ivan had some scars on his face. “Ivan, what happened?”
Ivan smiled and said “Buster did it.”
Adrien was confused. “Allow me to explain,” Mylene said. “See, Ivan asked to help volunteer with me yesterday. I was going to the animal shelter, and I thought I had a good idea. See, some of the bigger dogs get a little too energetic, so I thought Ivan could play with them for a bit to help calm them down. And he was doing a great job, but Buster, one of the biggest ones, got too into it and scratched him.”
“I see,” Adrien said.
“It was a complete accident, and Buster even felt sorry about the whole thing,” Ivan said.
“Yeah, Ivan’s been really forgiving about this whole thing” Mylene said.
“Why don’t you show them the pictures?” Ivan asked.
“Pictures?” Alix asked.
Ivan nodded. He looked at Mylene. “Oh, alright,” Mylene said. “I was worried because they were all from before the scar, but since you say it’s OK…” she took out her phone and everyone gathered around her. Mylene showed off a series of photos of Ivan playing with dogs. It was completely adorable.
“I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Alix said.
Ivan blushed. “I wasn’t sure I had it in me either. But honestly, it was a lot of fun.”
“It’s all thanks to Adrien here,” Kim said.
Adrien blushed. “Who me? I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not true,” Ivan said. “Your talk inspired me to help, and I want to thank you for it.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” Adrien said.
“You’re a natural,” Kim said.
“Yeah” said Alix. “I mean, Lila’s been great and all, but I’ve never seen a result this dramatic this fast. Maybe she could learn a thing or two from you.”
Lila was surprised. She blushed, rubbed the back of her head, and said “Maybe.”
“We’ll see,” Adrien said. “I mean, I imagine we’re both pretty busy. From what I’ve heard, after school, your life is an adventure!”
“I’m sure we can make the time,” Lila said. “I mean, you’ve gotten to know the class, and you’ve only been here for a week or so.”
“That’s true. A lot has happened” Adrien said. What would happen if Lila and I were alone? She can’t know I’m on to her, can she? If she doesn’t know, I don’t think she would cue me in on her goal just yet. It’s still too early. Still, I should be on guard for that meeting. “Well, if our schedules allow for some one on one time, I guess we could talk.”
Lila blushed. “I’d like that.” Shortly after class began for the day.
During break, Ivan met up with Adrien alone. “Hey, thanks again man” he said.
“No problem” Adrien replied.
“I mean it” Ivan said. “I know I only asked to try and get closer to Mylene, but the whole experience was rewarding.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” Adrien said. Ivan then grew concerned. “What’s up?”
“Well… If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell anyone else?” Ivan asked.
Adrien smiled. “Of course.”
Ivan smiled back. “Thanks. ...It’s just, you kind of remind me of Marinette. You know, before she...well…”
Adrien was surprised. “Huh.”
“It’s just, she used to be so helpful,” Ivan said. “I guess she was, even when she was jealous of Lila. Don’t get me wrong, she shouldn’t have bullied Lila, or stolen from her, but if you were to talk to her outside of Lila, it was like talking to you right now.”
“I see…” Adrien said, pondering this.
“I mean, Lila’s been helpful,” Ivan said, “it’s just...uh...how do I say this? She is a nice person, but she’s not as good at it?”
Adrien smiled. “It’s OK. Remember, this is staying between the two of us.”
Ivan smiled. “Thanks. Well, we should get going.”
“Alright,” Adrien said. Ivan left. Adrien looked around and saw Lila standing by herself. He decided to walk over and say “Hello.” Lila looked at him curiously. “Looks like we’ll get that chance to talk sooner than we thought.”
“I guess” Lila smiled. She looked sad. “So, how do you do it?”
“Do what?” Adrien asked.
“Well, you heard the class today,” Lila said. “How do you help people so well?”
Adrien had to tread lightly. I don’t want her to undermine me on any future attempts to deconstruct her web. I still don’t even know how big it is yet. It would be foolish to make it bigger before my eyes. I just have to give a vague answer. “Well, I just listen and give positive reinforcement,” he said.
“I try to do that too,” Lila said. “But you’ve helped Ivan in a way I couldn’t. Why is that?”
She’s trying to get a more specific answer. Just keep it vague, and we should be fine for now. “Well, I guess that’s just because we’re different people,” he said. “We have different experiences, and as such, we would have different ways of helping people.”
“Huh” said Lila. “That wasn’t what I was expecting, but I guess that makes sense.”
Adrien smiled. “Tell you what. If you’re helping someone out, why don’t you text me or something? That way, we can work together! You showing off your strengths, and I showing off mine. I mean, two heads are better than one after all.”
Lilai was taken aback. She blushed and said “I’d like that.”
“I’d like that too,” Adrien said.
“Well, we should get back to class,” Lila said.
“OK” Adrien said. He started walking when he noticed Lila grabbing his arm. “Um, Lila?”
“Huh? Oh” Lila said. She let go. “Sorry. I just get nervous easily. You know, ever since the incident. And you just seem so brave. So, I just kind of…”
Adrien smiled. “I understand. Just make sure to ask. I’m not great with people touching me unexpectedly. Between my fans and Chloe, it started feeling uncomfortable.”
“Oh no,” Lila said. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a nice chat with Chloe about this.”
“You don’t have to,” Adrien said. Lila was surprised. “What I mean is, I’ve already talked to her about it, and she’s gotten better about it.” Lila smiled and nodded and the two walked off.
OK, I don’t think she’s on to me, and I’ve laid a trap. Sure, it’s double edged, and whether or not she’ll spring it is up in the air, but it’s still worth trying. Still, she knows one of my weaknesses now. It’s not a weakness she can use well, but I should be careful regardless.
After school that day, he hung out with Nino at the dance club. They taught each other more about the dancing styles they knew, and had another good time all around. However, when it came time for Adrien to leave, Nino rushed him out again. Once could be coincidence, but twice now? Something’s up. I just need to find a good time to ask about it.
He then got out his phone. He was going to message his bodyguard but decided to do a quick check of Noir Notes to see if there was anything new. He had now got in the habit of bringing his costume along, so if there was something he could do, he could do it.
Nothing around him looked like he was needed, and anything new on the site was more speculation, which was wildly varying, and more requests. Again, most of these requests were trivial in nature. But there was a new one that caught his eye due to how odd it was.
“Hello? Cat Noir? Um, I have a note I want to deliver to someone, but I don’t know how. Could you possibly do it for me? I’ll be in the TV station lobby tonight until 6:30. Thank you.”
Adrien was puzzled. He checked the time stamp. Today. And it’s about 5:45 now… He realized the Kids+ TV studio wasn’t too far from here. Well, let’s just hope this is the right one… He messaged his bodyguard saying to pick him up there at about 6:25, and went on his way.
Once he got there, he hid on the side of the building and dressed up, leaving his bag behind. As Cat Noir, he walked into the building. He approached the receptionist and rang the bell. The receptionist looked up confused and surprised.
“Pssst! Over here” said a voice. He looked over to see a young girl waving at him. Adrien was now the one who was confused and surprised. He walked over. He saw she had a lot of paper and some crayons for drawing. “I knew you’d make it!”
Adrien smiled. I love her optimism Although, she is a child, so she probably doesn’t know it was dumb luck that brought me here. I won’t tell her though. He grabbed some of the paper and a black crayon and decided to write his statements, stylizing them like a child. “How did you get onto Noir Notes?”
“Um, I saw mommy doing some research on there. She’s a news reporter! She gave me this” she said, holding up a tablet, “to watch some videos on, but I really needed to get this note out” she now held up her note. “So, I logged on and tried my best.”
Adrien smiled for her. “You did good kid. What’s your name?”
“Manon” she said. “Anyway, can you deliver this?” She held up the letter.
“Who’s it for?”
Manon looked sad. “It’s for my old babysitter,” she said. “I don’t know if you know her, but her parents run the bakery you went to.” Adrien was surprised. “Mommy said she did something bad, and that she’s not allowed to babysit me anymore. I know she didn’t do it though! She’s so nice! I wanted to deliver it to her, but I don’t know how to get there without getting a ride, and mommy won’t help me mail it. So, please?” She held out the note again, this time with her baby-doll eyes.
How could I say no to that face? He wrote “Do you need to get it to her ASAP?”
“A...SAP?”
Adrien silently chuckled. “As Soon As Possible. It means does she need it right away?”
“Oh. Well, I would like for her to get it right away, but as long as she gets it, I’ll be alright.”
“OK. Thank you. I will pass it along to her.”
Manon’s face lit up. She was so giddy she was just about to charge in for a hug. She then stopped herself and asked “Um, can I give you a hug?” Adrien nodded. Manon rushed in and hugged with vigor. Adrien hugged back.
Adrien hadn’t even considered something like this. I promise you, the two of you will be reunited. It may take some time, but I will do it. He let go and took the note. He did a two finger salute to say his goodbye and left.
He went to the side of the building to grab his bag. However, he bumped into someone. He looked up to see that it was his bodyguard, holding his bag. The two looked at each other for a little bit. Adrien surmised that he came by and saw the bag on the ground and went to investigate. Despite his appearances, Adrien knew his bodyguard wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t really a lot he could do in this situation. He sighed. “Can you at least not tell my parents and only talk to Nathalie about this?” The bodyguard was confused, but nodded. Adrien changed out of his disguise, and put it back in the bag. The two went to the car and headed home.
On his way back, Adrien messaged Marinette. “Hey, we have a bit of a situation. I got caught as Cat Noir by my bodyguard. I managed to convince him to only tell my family’s assistant, but I can’t lie to them. Could I just tell them about you? If that’s alright? Please get back to me ASAP.”
Later, Adrien was meeting with Nathalie. Adrien’s costume was on the table, along with his phone. Nathalie was rubbing her eyes. “Adrien. Please tell me you have an explanation for all of this.”
“I do,” Adrien said.
Nathalie put her glasses on and glared at him. “And?”
“Oh. Oh you want me to TELL YOU my explanation” he said. “Well...um, this is gonna be difficult.” Marinette hasn’t gotten back to me yet. I don’t know if I can keep this up.
“I can’t in good conscience hide this from your parents,” Nathalie said. “Please explain to me what possessed you to do any of this.”
“Ummmmmmmm...”
Suddenly the phone rang. Adrien reached for it, but Nathalie grabbed it first, as if her hand was as fast as hurricane winds. She noticed it wasn’t a registered number. She answered “How did you get this number?”
“Um, Adrien gave it to me” Marinette said timidly from the other line. “You’re the secretary right?” Nathalie was alarmed. “You’re talking about him being Cat Noir… Well, that’s kind of my fault.”
Adrien was worried about what was happening on the other end. He tried reaching for the phone, but Nathalie blocked him. She continued to listen to Marinette. “I see...Thank you. Have a good day.” She hung up. She sighed. “Adrien. I know you can be a bit of a problem child.” Adrien remembered several times in which he attempted to sneak out or run away just to be on his own for a little bit, causing his parents, his bodyguard, and Nathalie to worry. “But THIS just takes the cake.” Adrien looked worried. “I’ve heard what your friend Marinette had to say. Now let’s hear you explain it.”
Adrien was puzzled. “Well, so, you know how Ladybug is my favorite designer for father’s company?” Nathalie nodded. “Well, I’ve been wanting to meet with her for a while now. I figured out her name, but not much else. Then, when I went to school, I caught her catching a glimpse of me. I learned that Marinette was considered a bully, and then later, I was told by father that Ladybug had new designs for me. I knew then they were the same person.”
Adrien explained the rest of the story. How he couldn’t be seen going to the bakery, and how he felt so desperate to meet with her. The origin of the disguise. The whole Lila thing. He hoped that it got through to her.
Once he was finished, Nathalie composed herself. “Well, at least the two of you are good at corroborating, if nothing else.”
“But it’s the truth!” Adrien said.
Nathalie smiled. “I know. I can tell when you’re lying.” She sighed. “Alright, I won’t tell your parents about all of this, at least for now. But I want you to promise me something.”
Adrien was confused. “What?”
“I want you to talk to your parents more about what’s going on,” she said. “You don’t have to explain everything, at least not yet. Don’t get me wrong, I want you to, but I understand why you won’t for now.”
Adrien looked sad. “Adrien,” she said. He looked up. “They’re your parents. They care about you. They want to hear about how you’re doing. Perhaps they can even help you. Of course, I’ll be willing to help you too.” Adrien looked excited. “If what you said about this Lila person is true, then I wish to help you. I know a thing or two about behind the scenes work. Your bodyguard will also be able to help. Isn’t that right?” She looked at the bodyguard, and he nodded. “Just be sure you’re keeping up with school, and all of your other stuff.” Adrien nodded. “You’re going to be really busy. Are you sure you can handle it?”
Adrien grinned. “When you’ve had nothing to do for most of your life, there’s a lot of pent up energy to do all of this.”
Nathalie smiled a silly grin. Adrien was perplexed, because that smile was rare. “You know, I sat in on some of the meetings where your parents were discussing you going to school. Your father was worried about all sorts of things. I thought he had run through every possible scenario. I guess I was wrong.”
Adrien smiled. “Oh yeah” he said. He took Manon’s note out of his pocket. “Um, I’m supposed to deliver this to Marinette. Is that alright?”
Nathale smiled. “Don't worry Adrien, I’ll take care of this. Your father wanted me to investigate the bakery anyway. You know, after your little stunt.” Adrien blushed. Nathalie grabbed the note. “Alright. Just do whatever you were going to do when you got back before all of this. And remember what I said.”
Adrien nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
Nathalie smiled. “Let’s go!” she told the bodyguard. The two of them headed out.
Nathalie and the bodyguard had managed to get to the bakery before it closed. Nathalie walked in alone. Sabine and Tom turned to her. “Um, hello. How can we help you?”
“I know this is a bit sudden,” Nathlie said, “but I work with Gabriel Agreste. Because of the recent attention brought upon you, he wants to know about his place. I know that you’re closing now, but is there a good time to set up a meeting?”
Tom and Sabine were shocked. “Um, what would this meeting be about?” Tom stammered out.
“Mr. Agreste likes to consider a lot of possibilities” Nathalie said. “He was wondering about using your bakery as a set. Or barring that, using some of your goods for a baking motif.” Tom and Sabine looked at each other, not sure about what to do. “I will tell you, a lot of this goes nowhere. But, if you’re interested in the possibility, here’s my card,” she said, handing it to them. “Also, I found this outside your door. It’s addressed to a Marinette.”
“That’s our daughter,” Sabine said. “I’ll make sure it gets to her.”
Nathalie smiled. “Thank you. Also, if it wouldn’t be any trouble, could I get a box of cookies.”
“Oh, it’ll be no trouble at all,” Tom said. He left to get them.
“You know, Mr. Agreste’s son came in and he also got cookies,” Sabine said.
“So I’ve heard,” Nathalie said. “He told me they were delicious. I’m curious.”
“Here you go,” Tom said.
Nathalie paid for them. “Thank you.” She left the store and got in the car. They pulled off. Nathalie started eating the cookies. “Want one?” she said, offering one to the bodyguard. He rejected. She continued eating them.
The bodyguard then gave her a stern look. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “Look, I know it’s crazy, but I really want to help Adrien here. Was he foolish? Of course. But being young is all about making mistakes. I’m just here to make sure he’s making the right ones.” She smiled. “Besides, can’t you tell?” The bodyguard raised his eyebrow. “Our little Adrien’s in love.” The bodyguard thought about it, and then nodded. “I’m just not sure he knows it yet.”
Adrien went back to his room as soon as the meeting was over. He headed to the computer and saw Marinette messaged him. “Adrien! Are you alright? What happened?”
“I’m still trying to process that myself,” he replied. “But basically, not only has Nathalie agreed to not tell my parents, she’s willing to help me.”
“...? Why?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m glad she is.”
“Well, I’m glad things worked out for you.”
“Sorry about dragging more people into this…”
“It’s OK. This was sudden. I get it.”
“By the way, the mission I was on as Cat Noir involved you.”
“Me?”
“Yup. I was to deliver a note to you. But Nathalie’s taking it to your place.She said she needed to scout it anyway. You should be getting it soon.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Good night.”
“Good night Adrien” she typed. She saw Adrien log off. She then spoke to herself. “What could that be?”
“Marinette!” her mom called. “There’s a letter for you! I’ll just slip it through the door as usual.” Marinette rushed over and opened the hatch door. Sabine was surprised to see her. “Marinette?”
“Uh, yeah. I just wanted to get this from you.” She took the note. “Thank you, mama!” She kissed her mom on the head, and closed the door.
Sabine was surprised. “Well, it’s good to see she's getting better.”
Marinette went up to her bed and looked at the note. “Manon?” she said, recognizing the handwriting. She opened it up.
“Marinette, Mommy says you did something bad, and you can’t be my babysitter anymore. I don’t think that’s true though. You’re so nice and kind. I can’t believe that you would do something so mean.
Mommy says you haven’t left your house much since got kicked out of school. You taught me that sometimes people just need to be alone sometimes. But I do want to see you again. I want to show you how much I’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you. Please come out soon. Once they realize you didn’t do it, I’m sure they’ll forgive you. -Manon”
Underneath was a drawing of the two of them. Marinette was impressed, and at the same time heartbroken. Manon still believed in her. She couldn’t believe it herself. Manon looked up to her so much, and wanted her to leave. Meanwhile, here she was wallowing in self-pity. Marinette began crying. “I’m sorry Manon.”
19 notes · View notes
raysofcrosby · 5 years
Text
HOMETOWN
"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺."  – 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙨, 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠
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𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 (𝘹)
𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: yes | no
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴): tbh nothing big, just some bad words here and there.
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4,604
𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: give me back my hometown by eric church
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: tbh i’ve been in a huge writing funk lately the kind where i wanna write but can’t get myself to, so i found one of my old writings from like 5 years ago and figured why not edit and update it and tbh this is what became of it. there’s a part two that’s half written, so if it’s wanted i can totally finish it. otherwise, sorry if my writing is horrendous :-) 
Some dead guy once said ‘You can’t go home again’ but the dude was full of complete shit. You can, but a lot of the smart people who don’t, decide not to because of the many lists of reasons they hold.
Josh Anderson considered himself to be one of those people. After he graduated secondary school and went off into the OHL, he swore up and down that he would never return to his self-deemed, small hometown. And the moment he made it into the NHL two years later, he kept that promise. Though when his parents asked to see him, he couldn't turn them down. It's the least he could do for all that they had done for him throughout his life. Without them and their sacrifices, he knows that he wouldn't be living his childhood dream. So he'd go to visit them, but not too often it seemed.
He wanted to embrace the life the NHL could give him. Explore the ever-winding paths out in front of him and mingle amongst the interesting people along the way. Wander down those paths for so long, that Burlington would look like nothing more than a speck in his back windshield. Yet, there he was driving down the same never-ending road leading to the old hangout he and a few of his buddies had declared as theirs during the middle of grade 9. If it were up to him though, he wouldn't be driving down this potholed road and he sure wouldn't as hell be back here in Burlington.
It's not like he's here voluntarily. It seemed as if his phone wasn't capable of being silent as the calls from his childhood buddies came in all at once. Each rambling on and on about the same fancy invitation with their class crest and school colors splashed over the front, informing then that it's been 10 years since their graduation and that it was time to "re-kindle those lost valuable friendships with some of your fellow peers and have a grand ole time at the class of 2012's class reunion." No shit, those are the exact cheesy words written by the old class president who had the unflattering privilege of being called 'Kiss-ass McGhee.'
He had NO intentions of attending this class reunion with a bunch of people he grew up with his entire life and came to hate about 60% of them throughout his years of primary and secondary school, but his best friends sure were some persuasive assholes. Secondary school wasn't really the best time of his life. Besides having an intense focus on hockey, all the underlying partying and stupid shit he did on the sidelines from grades 9 through 11, there were a few speculations whether or not he'd graduate, let alone make a name for himself. But with the help of some pretty good people, his partying cutback, his hockey stats severely improved along with his grades and he ended up graduating at the top of his class. That doesn't matter though– it hasn't mattered in 10 years. All that matters is that he doesn't find being in a room with a bunch of people in 10 years, with a good majority of them probably deciding to stay in this misery of a place while he made a new life and a name for himself across country lines and in a state nearly 400 miles away...a "grand ole time".
Sorry Kiss-Ass McGhee, but he's having no part of it
He parked his new range rover up into a parking spot right in front of the diner and got out. The warm rays from the sun hitting his face only made him want to jump right back into the AC and drive away. It was really only a 6-hour car ride back to Columbus and while 12 hours in a day wasn't exactly appealing...it was a whole lot better than what his night seemed to have planned ahead of him. Instead, he closed the door and locked it behind him, walking to the door of the diner and inside. It smelled and looked exactly as he had remembered it did back when he was here for the last time, exactly 10 years ago the night before he turned his back on this town and never looked back.
"Ho-ly Shit, well would you look at that boys. He did show up." Josh turned towards a corner booth and smiled, seeing the aged faces of his best friends. "You owe me 30 bucks, Nick." His best friend and the guy he practically considered to be his brother, Dillon said, walking over to him with open arms.
"Hey, Dillhole," he laughed, wrapping his arms tight around him.
"It's good to see you, Josh." He pulled away and motioned over towards the booth they had reserved.
He slid in on one side and Dillon slid in on the opposite side. It was crazy, seeing all five of them together again; Nick, Dillon, Archer, Colt and himself. They were the boys that caused the entire ruckus in this town, both on and off the ice. And while they weren't all the hometown heroes, they were pretty much the light of the town. "This is fucking crazy," Josh said, shaking his head.
"Watch that mouth young man," a familiar voice nagged.
He snapped his head up and instantly smiled. "Mrs. O'Donnell!" He got up and hugged her, only to pull away and place his hands on her shoulders. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm just fine," She smiled, letting out a sigh as he sat back down in the booth, and she began collecting the menus off of the table. "It's just been a long time since I've seen you boys all together in this booth. I was starting to think I was going a little crazy there. Is it the usual five double cheeseburgers and two baskets of chili fries with five chocolate malt shakes?"
"Mrs. O'Donnell, how do you remember that after all these years?" Archer laughed, his eyes wide in shock.
"You boys have been ordering the same thing since you were 7-years-old," She just sighed and added a light chuckle. "Plus, it's pretty noticeable when I no longer have to order ahead 3-times the number of patties every shipment. I'll be back soon boys."
"Does Mr. O'Donnell still work the grill? He made the best burgers," Colt said, folding his napkin repeatedly.
"I believe so," Archer replied, his eyes squinting as he looked towards the back of the diner. "I think their oldest is taking over the business soon, though. Mr. and the Mrs. want to travel around the country in that old RV they got."
Archer was the only one out of the five of them who stayed behind in Burlington. Dillon had moved somewhere over in Vancouver, Nick over in Buffalo, New York, Colt down somewhere in Florida, and Josh was more than content in his quaint house he'd bought down in Columbus, a little over 15 minutes away from the Arena.
"So how have you guys been? How is everything?" Dillon asked, his eyes meeting everyone who was sitting at the booth.
They all kept in contact, sure, but they didn't talk all the time. There was a group chat of course, but the probability of them all being active in it at the same time was incredibly rare. It's been hard seeing as how busy they all got as they went their separate paths whether that be to the next level of hockey, college or even straight to a 9 to 5 job. They still made it work as best as they could, seeing as the last time they were all together was Colt's wedding in December.
"You guys remember that girl I met during that grad trip in grade 12?" Nick asked, as Mrs. O'Donnell came by and dropped off each of their milkshakes.
"The blonde one with the big–" Dillon looked over at Mrs. O'Donnell who was sending him her classic 'don't you dare say what you're going to say' looks. "Uh, personality?" He smiled as Mrs. O'Donnell turned away, but motioned at his chest as if he were cupping a pair of impressive sized, invisible boobs. Which soon followed by a smack in the back of the head with a napkin by Mrs. O'Donnell, sending the table of men into a fit of laughter.
"Yeah, Shelly!" Nick nodded, leaning back into his seat. "Well, a few years after that, I ran into her on campus and we started dating and well...I just proposed to her a few days ago."
"What?!" Josh smiled, taking a sip of his malt shake as he tried to hide his surprise. "That's awesome man, congratulations."
Nick smiled and accepted the pats on the shoulders and congratulations the rest of the guys had given him. "What about you guys? Any ladies in your lives?"
"I'm dating this girl who was in one of my classes back in college. We didn't know of each other, but we started dating at the academy and now we work at the same station but–" Archer looked around and leaned over the table. "You guys know how fast news spreads around here, so that's why I'm whispering. Her name is Julianne and I'm actually proposing to her next week."
Josh almost choked on the swig of malt shake that made it way down his throat as his eyes widened. That's three of five who were either married and or engaged, and there he was still incredibly single. Another round of congratulations went around the table and eyes landed on Dillon as they waited for a life update. Josh knew Dillon better than anybody, so he definitely knew that the slight twitch in his right eye meant he was hiding something.
"Let me guess," he snorted, taking another sip of his shake. "You're getting married too?" A deep read started to spread across his face as he looked into his malt shake. "DUDE!" Josh yelled, crumpling up a napkin and firing it at Dillon's head.
"It just happened two days ago man," Dillon said, holding his hands up in defense. "I'm still letting it all sink in.”
“Who?”
Josh had to admit he was curious himself. While they didn’t talk every second of every day, he thought that he’d at least be up to date in huge events such as engagements, in Dillon’s life. “Yeah Dillhole, who?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Uh…Amy Hough.”
For the second time that day, the group of men erupted into a bunch of hollers that sounded like a pack of wild dogs. They couldn't help it though for one reason, and one reason only. Amy Hough had been Dillon's girlfriend since well...forever. From grade 1 all the way to grade 12, it was as if those two were made for each other. Everyone thought they were going to follow each other to college, get married after graduation and become that cliché couple you see on lifetime romance movies. But they called it quits the day before the big grade 12 grad trip and went their separate ways.
“Guys! Guys shut up!” He laughed, begging the group to quiet down as the red from his face began to travel down his neck. As soon as they did, he smiled again. “After we got the invitations to the reunion she uh, called me and asked if we could get together the next time I was in town, which happened to be that weekend and…we just kind of picked back up where we started.”
“We got those invitations eight months ago and you’re just now telling us, bro?” Archer asked, throwing his napkin at him.
“Sorry sorry!” He said as he did his best to dodge the napkins. “What about Josh?!”
Everyone turned their eyes to Josh. “Yeah Josh, what about you? You got a lady in your life?” Colt asked.
“Yeah, as much as a big shot you are down in Columbus, you’ve got to have at least a few ladies lusting after you,” Nick laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe multiple at a time, eh?”
Josh could feel the heat begin to rise in his cheeks and he silently prayed for it to go away. Sure, he had women lusting after him, as Nick had put it. Tons, in fact. But that came with the territory of being a professional athlete. He could barely enjoy the clubs with his teammates without the women around him doing whatever they could to catch his eye. Was it flattering? Sure. Did he cave into it? Of course, he did, especially when he was in his earlier to mid-twenties. He was a guy, after all. But lately, the hookups seemed to slow down, even if the selection of women at his beck and call only seemed to rise. Sleeping around or even having a regular hook-up in whatever city they’d be playing in just didn’t seem appealing anymore.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. “Actually no, I don’t. I haven’t really thought about dating, to be honest.” He pursed his lips and brought his straw to his mouth as he met their shocked gazes.
“What?” Archer asked.
“You’re shitting us right?” Colt added, looking just as surprised as the rest of them. “I mean, not even the occasional club hookup? Nothing?”
Josh just shrugged his shoulders and swallowed his sip of shake. “Just busy I guess. Haven’t really thought of dating much…doesn’t really feel right.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dillon seemingly glaring at him as he struck the thinker pose. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh nothing, I’m fine. It’s just that I think the lack of hookups and the reason that you’re not dating anyone right now is that deep down you’re still stuck up on Y/N.”
Josh could feel the heat start to rise again and this time, he couldn’t hold it back. But he did his damnedest to withhold any sign of emotion from them as best as he could. Hearing your name spoken by anyone but his inner voice for the first time in nine years hurt more than he could describe.  “What? Pft, no I’m not.”
“She’s here in town you know…” Archer said, looking at him. “Just saw her leaving her parents place the other day.”
You and Archer were neighbors, but not until grade 6. Up until then, Josh had the utmost privilege of being your neighbor and best friend. Then the whole moving and  ‘who you hang out with could affect you for the rest of your life’ junior high bullshit happened and he didn’t see you again until grade 9. Josh still hated himself for the way he ignored you all those years based on the fact that you weren’t really the most popular girl in junior high and he knew that he was an ass for it.
End of story.
“O-Oh….she is?” Josh asked, looking away from his friends.
“Which means she’s going to be at the reunion tonight…” Dillon added, looking at him. “Are you going to say hi?”
The last moment that Josh had with you started playing in front of him like a black and white movie that was moving way too fast for him to really capture the details. He had spent the last 10 years pushing back everything that he knew about you in the back of his mind. He didn’t want it coming back, ever. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
Fuck, he knew that was a lie. He should have just kept his mouth shut.
“I bet you $15 you chicken out and run away like a little girl.” Dillon smiled, leaning over and extending his hand towards him.
Josh looked Dillon in the eyes and knew that Dillon was reading him like a God damn book right now. He knew exactly how Josh felt towards you, and yet Josh couldn’t bring himself to say no. He shook his hand and held his stare. “Deal.”
“Here you are, boys. Five double cheeseburgers and two chili fries. I’ll be back by later to check up on you.” Mrs. O’Donnell turned to walk away but turned back around. “And now that you’re grown men, I expect less of a mess from ya.”
They all laughed and focused back on their food as the conversations drifted from their love lives and more into sports and recent stuff on the news. But as Josh took that first bite into his burger, he looked to his left and stared at a familiar old, empty red single booth. Only back then, it wasn’t always empty. It always had someone sitting in it.
You and him.
“Alright fellas, I guess it’s about time we head out towards the good ole reunion,” Archer said as he grabbed the bill before any of them could reach it. He took out a bunch of bills and put them inside of the check, closing it.
“Can you believe Kiss-Ass McGhee wrote that? How fucking cheesy can you get?” Dillon laughed, scooting out of the booth.
The men said their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. O’Donnell and left the diner, standing around a bit before they stood by their separate cars. “Where’s this thing at again?” Josh asked, digging his car keys out of his jean pocket. “Please don’t say it’s in the gym.”
“Yeah, tell me McGhee didn’t go all ancient times and at least got us a sweet hotel,” Colt added.
“Sorry fellas, but it’s in the gym.” Archer laughed, opening his car door. “You guys still know the way to the school?”
“You mean the hell hole?” Dillon asked, getting into his car and leaning out the window. “Yeah, I think I’m familiar with the route.”
Josh shook his head and laughed as he watched his friends get into their cars. “Alright, meet you guys there!” Archer called out, starting his car and backing out of his parking spot before turning out of the lot and left to go further into town.
Josh got into his car and started it, watching his friends each leave the parking lot before him. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, feeling his grip on his steering wheel get a bit tighter as he sucked in another deep breath.
He can do this. It won’t be that bad, maybe you won’t even remember him. Maybe you wouldn’t even say hi, yeah, yeah that sounds plausible. He’s totally got this.
He let out the breath he was holding and opened his eyes, putting his car into reverse and backing out of his spot before turning left onto the road and followed it into town. Tonight was going to be a total shit show and no matter how many motivational talks he gave himself, there was no way of preventing it. The closer he got to the high school, the more nauseous he became. It’s been 10 years since he’s seen you and the possibility of seeing you now drove him absolutely, fucking crazy. Tons and thousands of possibilities and worst-case scenarios filled his brain.
Would you recognize him? Would he recognize you? Would things be the same when you see each other? Will all of those memories that he spent 10 years pushing away come back up and replay the entire night? Would his feelings come back? Would yours?
A sudden knock on his window brought him out of his thoughts. He looked to his left to see Dillon standing there. “Come on dude!” He wasn’t even aware that he had parked his car…or that he had even arrived at the high school.
He took another deep breath and turned off the ignition, unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. “Sorry, I was just…thinking.”
“About Y/N?”
He nodded slowly. “I just–“ He locked his car and dug his hands into his pockets as far as they could go. “It’s been 10 years since I’ve seen or talked to her Dill. We haven’t kept in contact or even bothered to keep in contact. Plus, I’ve pretty sure that one we see each other, she’ll probably run in the opposite direction.”
Dillon shrugged his shoulders and looked at him. “You don’t know that bro. Maybe what happened to Amy and me, will happen to you and Y/N.”
“I highly doubt that Dill.” He replied, walking into the school gym with him and coming to a stop at a table with the rest of the boys, searching for their nametags and putting them on their shirts. “You must have forgotten just how badly things ended with us. I don’t think they’ll just pick right back up and she’ll act like none of it ever happened.”
“Hey, you never know Josh! It’s been 10 years and during those 10 years, both of you grew up and matured. You’re both 28 for God sakes. I’m sure you’re not going to let the way you handled things when you were 18, get in the way of how you deal with things at 28.” He walked into the gym, leading the way as Josh followed behind him. “Besides, maybe she wants to reconnect and maybe, just maybe you two will hit it off again.”
“Hey, you two.” A voice said, causing the two of them to turn around. The girl walked over to Dillon and kissed him before looking at Josh. “Josh Anderson, is that you?” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “It’s been years! How have you been? How’s the NHL? Everything you ever dreamed of?”
“Everything and more,” Josh laughed, pulling away with a smile on his face. “It’s nice to see you too Amy and congratulations on the engagement! You better keep this boy in line.”
Amy looped her arm through Dillon’s and looked up at him. “Oh I will, you can count on that.” She looked at Josh and the expression on her face resembled that of shock as if she had just realized something and hadn’t told him. “Have you two talked to Y/N yet?”
“We just got here. She’s here already?” Dillon asked, looking around the crowd.
“Yeah! Here hold on, I’ll go get her!” She smiled, winking at Josh before turning away and disappearing into the crowd of classmates.
“Amy wait!” Josh called out, realizing that he was about five steps too late before she was out of his vision. He looked around to see if he could spot her anywhere, but he was shit out of luck.
Dillon put his hand on his shoulder. “Remember…$15.” Josh just groaned, earning an honest laugh from Dillon. “You’ve got this man, remember…anything can happen.”
As he looked up from his feet, Josh could see Amy begin to make her way back through the crowd, looking behind her. He turned quickly, facing Dillon with a look of panic on his face. “I can’t do this man. I shouldn’t have let you guys talk me into coming to this stupid thing. This was a huge mistake coming here.” He could feel his heart start to race and his palms get clammy.
The last time he had ever been this nervous was during playoff runs and game 7 of the year they won the Stanley Cup. Well, all of those times and the times he’d ever been around you. Nerves and adrenaline during hockey games were one thing, but the nerves he’d get around you were those same ones, escalated a million times over again. But it’s been so long since he had to deal with that level of nerves, so as far as he was concerned, he was so far out of his league.
One thing was for sure; he had to get the hell out of here.
“Josh man, come on don’t leave.”
“You’re leaving already?” A voice said, stopping Josh in his tracks, as well as making his heart skip a beat. He turned back around and as soon as his eyes met yours, his mouth went dry and it was as if every English word he’d ever learned– had disappeared and he couldn’t speak. After a few moments of a failed response, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. “Hi, Josh.”
“H-Hey Y/N.”
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hannahmcne · 5 years
Text
Reveal to Paris
The original translation was disorientating. Marinette was walking up the sun-warmed steps to the school, talking to Alya with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. She blinked – literally – and the world changed around her. She was so shocked she tripped over nothing and Alya had to help her up.
Their surroundings had changed from the school steps to a very large, expansive, white, spherical containment chamber. Which, if her assumptions were correct, contained all the citizens of Paris. Everyone seemed as disorientated as she did. While she didn't recognize a majority of the crowd, there were nearby faces whom she knew very well.
"Kim! Ivan! Nino! Adrien!" Alya yelled and waved to their classmates. Marinette's fingers itched toward her purse. Akuma… akuma… akuma. This entire place was screaming it. She followed Alya to their friends. More familiar faces began to surface. Alix, Sabrina, Nathaniel, and Rose. They must have been transported by area… that would mean her parents would be close too. She needed to find a place to transform… but there appeared to be nowhere.
"Where are we?" Nino asked.
"Some sort of white bubble," Alya responded. She was right. The place was like a white bubble, with the ceiling towering at least a half-mile above their heads and made of the same material as the floor. Marinette tapped her foot. It made a sound like glass or a polished granite countertop. Or a screen.
Far above their heads, the ceiling came to life. Everyone in Paris gasped and many pointed upwards. The formerly white surface was now made up of thousands and thousands of squares. There were two halves. One half moved. The squares in that half were bigger than the second half. They showed the crowd inside the bubble, occasionally switching to view them from different angles. The second half, though much smaller, was made up of faces. Thousands and thousands of faces.
Marinette's blood felt like ice. There was nowhere to transform. Even if she managed to hide from the hidden cameras in the crowd, it would be literally impossible to transform without at least thirty people witnessing it.
She could hear Chloe screaming nearby. Her hand hovered on her purse, but she couldn't open it to consult Tikki without Alya or Nino or – even worse – Adrien noticing.
"It's obviously an Akuma," Alya announced. Her weapon of choice – a smartphone with an optional portable charger – was already equipped and in-use. Marinette smiled weakly at the camera.
"Yeah, it must be." Marinette agreed. "Question is, who are they, and what are they doing?"
"Well, it looks like all of Paris is here." Adrien speculated with a furrowed brow. "That means Ladybug and Chat Noir are either in here with us – or they're trapped away from the city and we're being held as bait."
Marinette's internal sensory organs melted away to reveal a black-hole of worries sucking away at her very being. She got the very bad feeling that this was a new strategy of Hawkmoth's – one she would hate.
The room seemed to hum. It got quiet, which was very strange considering the entirety of Paris was crammed into one very large space. Marinette wondered if this space even existed in their plane of existence anymore – or if this new Akuma had created a pocket of space to imprison them in. Like Pixelator or Timebreaker.
"Welcome." A disembodied, vaguely female voice said from the floor. "I am Synthase. Please hold while we locate Ladybug and Chat Noir."
Locate Ladybug and Chat Noir?
"If you will direct your attention to the ceiling," Synthase continued in a monotonous voice, "You will see our process of elimination as we first find Ladybug and then Chat Noir in the crowd among you."
Marinette's head whipped up faster than if someone had tied her chin to a rocket. The two halves of the ceiling made way to show a blackened silhouette of her ladybug form. Then, Marinette watched as faces flashed by on the screen with red 'X's on their faces. The computer – or Synthase – quickly eliminated all men from the mix. Fifty percent of Paris had been ruled out of being Ladybug in twenty seconds. Marinette swallowed.
Alya was beside her, holding her phone up in ecstasy. "This is great, girl. We may actually find out Ladybug's identity!" Marinette's gut twisted in bitterness. Even though Alya had received the Fox miraculous part-time and had her own secret identity to keep, she was still delighted to discover who her hero was.
"Alya." Marinette hissed. "We need to stop them. We need to figure out a way to keep Synthase from revealing Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities."
"Why?" Alix asked. "It'd be cool to know who they are. I mean, then we'd be able to ask for help all the time. I bet Ladybug is super-cool in real life. Do you think she'd be up to roller-skating with me?" Alix leaned down to pat her wheeled shoes. Above their heads, The computer was examining skin colors. The pool of Parisian people was getting dramatically smaller. After all, she was French-Chinese. Not many people could claim that same heritage.
"Marinette!" Someone called behind her. Before she could turn around, she was lifted off her feet and into the air. "We're so glad we found you!" Tom beamed as he hugged his daughter. Sabine stood beside him, glancing nervously up at the screen.
"I hope Ladybug and Chat Noir show up soon, so we can all go home," Sabine said.
Behind the computer's analysis of who wasn't Ladybug, Marinette could see the pool of 'maybe' people growing smaller and smaller. The ceiling was very expansive, so there were still lots of people, but the photos were getting larger and larger.
"Look, Mrs. Cheng!" Nino called, pointing. "There's you!"
Marinette swallowed as her Mom's picture flashed by with a red 'X'. Beside her photo, before it vanished, the reason 'height' appeared for a few seconds. Other people were eliminated on the causes of 'skin tone', 'scarring', 'disability', 'Akuma victim', and other obvious differences. However, as the computer neared the end of its deductions, it began to slow down. It took more time disapproving every option to make sure it missed no one.
Marinette glanced nervously around. Would she be able to transform while everyone's eyes were on the screen? Probably not, as the magic generated a lot of light. And even if she could transform, the moment she moved people would notice her and realize Marinette had just vanished. On top of all this, the cameras were still rolling, scanning the crowd for any sign of the miraculous.
"Woah, Marinette!" Alya exclaimed, grabbed her best friend's forearm. "You're up there!"
And so she was, surrounded by a number of other people who looked scarily similar to her. What were the chances the computer could make a mistake and pick someone else out as Ladybug?
Adrien was looking up with a straight face, looking riveted but worried. Marinette felt sick. She needed to stop the simulation. How? The ceiling was too far away; she couldn't throw anything or touch it. The Akuma herself had not appeared.
"Fifty options left," Synthase announced. "Please stand by."
Marinette's palms began to sweat.
"They haven't eliminated Marinette yet!" Rose pointed out. "It must be because she's so much like Ladybug, always thinking of others and being so kind and positive!"
Adrien briefly glanced over at her, then looked away as if to dismiss the idea. Marinette wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended.
If the computer did call her out as Ladybug, was there any chance she could play it off and pretend she wasn't?
Thirty people left. Kagami was up there. Marinette swallowed. She felt Tikki pushing against the inside of her purse as if she didn't already recognize the problem. Someone cleared their throat, and she looked down. A man in a red Hawaiian shirt stood between her and Adrien. Master Fu. Marinette's mouth went dry. She couldn't even remember him walking up.
"Well, this certainly is a pickle." Master Fu said gravely. "I think this might be it for Ladybug's identity. Hopefully Chat Noir can avoid his being revealed and, ahem, protect Ladybug?"
She watched Adrien clench his fist. "I need to find my father or the Gorilla. Otherwise, I'll be grounded later. If I can't find them within the next few minutes, I'll try and make my way back here."
Nino nodded, and he and Adrien shared a fist-bump. "Be safe, bro," Nino said. Adrien disappeared into the crowd.
Twenty people left. She was still up there. Nearby people had started to notice one of the people still on the screen was near them and began to whisper and point. Marinette looked to Master Fu for help. He shook his head in sorrow. She felt the back of her throat burning as everyone began to stare at her.
Fifteen people left. Kagami was eliminated, finally. The reason cited was different eye shapes and lack of personality similarities. Also: Akuma victim.
Three other girls with long, silky hair were eliminated. Hot tears began to well up in Marinette's eyes. Sabine patted her back. "Don't cry, Marinette." She urged. "We know you're not Ladybug. The computer will realize it too."
Some real-time footage was now being used as evidence. They whittled the group down to six individuals with blue eyes, pale skin, black hair, and center parts. Marinette was still up there. She subconsciously began to inch away from her family.
Then five. Then four. Three came, and then there was Marinette and a girl who was almost her doppelganger. Marinette couldn't breathe. The computer drew a red 'X' through the other girl's face and circled her portrait.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," Synthase said with prideful relish. "please surrender your miraculous. Your days as Ladybug are over." The cameras centered on her. She took a second to examine her face. She was pale and shaking.
"Wrong girl!" Nino yelled beside her. His voice didn't carry very far though. "We know Marinette."
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The computer repeated. Her voice was colder. "Surrender your miraculous. Your days as Ladybug have come to an end."
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Marinette said. The lights in the chamber darkened.
"Very well." Synthase hissed. A clear sphere formed around Tom and Sabine. It launched them halfway to the ceiling. "Then you will be powerless the watch as I crush your parents." The sphere grew smaller. Tom banged on the glass, but his baker strength could not even phase the glass.
"No!" Marinette screamed. All of Paris's eyes were on her – those stupid cameras were all trained on her. Hot tears ran down her face. Chat Noir. Please let Chat Noir show up.
Tikki nudged her side. Marinette unlatched her clasp. "Tikki, Spots on!" She yelled desperately, and then looked away as she felt the magic suit apply itself to her frame so that she couldn't see the looks on everyone's faces. Alya was filming, all of Paris was witnessing. She grabbed at her hip the exact second she knew her yo-yo would materialize and launched herself at the sphere. She managed to land, but it was slick. She began to slide. The sphere continued shirking. Tom had stopped fighting. He and Sabine stared at her like they were seeing a new person, which they were.
There was no space. Sabine was curled up on Tom's stomach as the glass forced them inward. Sabine closed her eyes and started to cry, Marinette lost her grip and slipped. Below her, Parisians moved, and the floor opened up in the space they vacated. People began to scream.
There was nothing beneath the floor. She was going to fall eternally. She tried to launch her yo-yo toward the sphere, but it was so small it slipped off. She was going to pass through the floor in three, two –
Someone yelled: "Chat Noir!", and a beam of metal appeared beneath her. She caught it with the tips of her fingers and felt it begin to pull her to safety. Chat Noir, green eyes serious and angry, pulled her to her feet once she was close enough.
"Too close." He muttered. "Too close."
Marinette had never been so happy to see her partner.
The ceiling was going crazy and reviewing footage of her transforming and leaping to her parents, who for the moment were safe. Chat Noir's appearance seemed to have thrown Synthase off her beat. The computer had been so busy trying to reveal Ladybug that it hadn't caught a glimpse of Chat Noir. She stared at him. "Did anyone see you?" She asked.
He shook his head. "I transformed under a blanket someone had abandoned. Everyone was too busy looking at you. But we better hurry. The computer may trace who's still in the room versus who was."
Chat Noir summoned his Cataclysm and evaporated the sphere encasing Paris. Synthase screamed, but her powers had been to detain, not to fight. She had no power to stop them. The inky darkness underneath the floor vanished, and they floated down into the area in front of the Mayor's Hotel. Thousands of Parisians piled on top of each other around the hotel. A large circle remained free of people, Marinette and Chat had landed about two feet into the circle, watching people groan and push themselves to their feet. Above their heads, a black butterfly was fluttering away. It must have been in the containment chamber… when Chat used his cataclysm, it must have released the Akuma.
Ladybug opened her yo-yo and launched it. The butterfly vanished inside the case, and she released it. There was no damage that needed to be fixed. She took a deep breath and watched the sun glint off its white wings. Everything was still for about twenty seconds.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" An unfamiliar voice requested. Marinette flinched and turned. A man with dark brown hair and blue eyes was pulling a notepad out of his breast pocket. People were beginning to stand. Marinette swallowed. A short ways away, Tom and Sabine helped each other to their feet, looking at their daughter. The deep lines in their faces screamed betrayal.
People saw her and began to ask questions. "How long have you had your miraculous?" "Who gave it to you?" "Where do you live?"
A shriek echoed from behind the front lines of the crowd. It was Lila Rossi, whose parents were looking on in shock and grabbing their daughter's arms to hold her back. "Ladybug!" She screamed. "I know who you are, and I'll find where you are! You can't hide anymore!"
A microphone was shoved into her mouth. Her teeth rattled in her skull. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng." Nadia Chamack asked. "Would you be willing to do an exclusive interview on the troubles of balancing student life with superhero life?"
"She attends school!" Someone yelled.
"We can't have a schoolgirl guarding our city." An older man with grey hair protested. "She should be in school!" Lots of people nodded their assent. Other began to shout back.
"This girl is our hero! She shouldn't even have to worry about school. Why don't we hand her a diploma right now? She can work for the police from now on!"
"No!" Marinette called. "I can't do that, I have things-"
The microphone was shoved back into her face. "What do you say about that interview, Ladybug?"
Chat Noir put himself between Nadia and her. The circle was quickly disintegrating. She hadn't even seen the Akuma victim. People began to press her from all sides. "Hey, back off!" Chat yelled. Marinette tried to back up, but she ended up falling over a group of citizens. As she struggled back to her feet, one man pinched her thigh. She felt her eyes welling up with tears.
Alya had elbowed her way up to the front. She was filming, Marinette noticed with dismay. "Marinette!" She yelled. "It's true? You really are Ladybug? Why didn't you tell me? I'm your best friend?"
"Ladybug, I run a blog dedicated to your face! Can I be your new best friend?"
"I run one dedicated to your feet!"
"I run one dedicated to-"
"How about that interview, Marinette?" Nadia pressed.
"Back off!" Chat yelled. He extended his baton a little to try and push people away, but they were coming from all sides.
"What's your secret identity, Chat Noir?" Someone screamed.
"I bet he's someone super hot!" A girl yelled in Marinette's ear.
It happened in slow motion. Someone jumped forward and grabbed Chat Noir's zipper. It slid down to mid-chest before he stopped and zipped it back up. Now Chat was mad too. He jumped back to Ladybug's side and hissed at everyone around them. Then he slipped an arm under Marinette's shoulders and she turned to throw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. She felt her stomach stay on the ground as Chat extended his baton and took them into the sky. The crowd continued to yell down below.
She kept her eyes closed as tears began to sting her lids. She felt every thud as he ran along the rooftops, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It was Chat. He'd protect her like he always did.
He took her home and put her in her room. The trapdoor remained open as he ran downstairs. Marinette let her transformation drop and stared numbly at the wall. After several minutes, Chat reappeared. "You okay?" He asked.
The words rolled off her. She stared with wide eyes but couldn't find the inspiration to move.
"Say something." He begged.
She began to cry. Hard. She sobbed and choked and closed her eyes because they felt like they were on fire. After about two continuous minutes of her crying, he stood and began to hug her. Still, the tears continued to spill out of her, and when he left to do damage control ten minutes after that, he left her curled up on her chaise as her kwami rubbed the tears off her face and brought tissues and lotion to her.
It turned out Chat had gone downstairs to lock the doors. Her parents managed to get in through the side door, but the front entrance was blocked by rioters and fans alike. People with large, flashy signs screamed as Tom and Sabine pulled blinds down and turned the 'open' sign to 'closed'. They pulled burned sheets of cookies out of the oven from where they'd been when they'd left premises, and climbed the stairs to demand answers from Marinette, who was in no emotional state to answer to their demands. The phone to the bakery had to be shut off along with all three of the families' phones. Marinette's email, which was published online on the designer's website Alya ran for her, was blowing up by the hundreds. Just before dinner, Marinette's dad turned the TV on downstairs, and Marinette heard an in-depth expert analysis of herself echo up the stairs. Where she lived, who her parents were, where she liked to go, who her friends were, and as much information as anyone could gleam up. Her classmates and teachers got on TV to talk about her, all except Adrien. It was awful.
Marinette's parents peeked in her room before bed to bring her dinner and ask more questions.
"Sweetie, we need to talk," Sabine said quietly.
"What's there to talk about?" Marinette gasped. "I'm Ladybug. Now everyone knows."
She got up the next morning to go to school but couldn't because the hordes of people had camped outside her door, waiting for the bakery to open the next day. Tom called the police, but Marinette still couldn't leave because people hung around the streets and crowded the school. The Mayor came to the door to talk about public statements and rewards for being Ladybug. It didn't make sense to Marinette. They'd never offered her Ladybug Benefits before. Why was it different now? And the Mayor didn't like her because Chloe didn't like her.
Someone who the police directed away from Marinette's home was akumatized and came straight for her house. Ladybug was forced to transform before her home was destroyed.
For three weeks, people left heaping gifts outside Marinette's home and prevented her from going anywhere. People tried to scale the building, break the windows, anything to see her. Police surrounded their home twenty-four seven. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen. Twice, police tried to escort her to school and back, but school life had become terrible. Everyone talked to her during class to thank her for all the deakumatizations and ask her for autographs. People who were angry Ladybug wasn't who they thought she was would throw things at her as she passed, and after someone threw a poorly-made kitchen bomb five feet far of her group (It didn't blow up), they determined it was for the best she stay home.
Things died down after a long time, but they weren't peaceful. After her parents reopened the shop, people would storm in and try to rush upstairs to find her. Marinette's dad installed a new lock and had the keep the second floor barred off at all times. They pulled Marinette from school and enrolled her in an online homeschool system. Police had to keep surveillance around the house because every time Ladybug made an appearance outside to cleanse or fight an Akuma, death and bomb threats would be issued. People were arrested. The guilt weighed more heavily on Marinette.
Alya posted more on the Ladyblog than she talked to Marinette. These days, it was everything she knew about her best friend, which hurt more than Marinette could express. Alya listed her favorite color, favorite hobbies, favorite subjects, movies, music, everything. The only thing not on there was Marinette's crush on Adrien. It was heart-rendering.
Marinette deleted her website that Alya had made for her and discontinued her email and social media. Things got a little better after that. Eventually, Marinette was able to use her phone again, though she had to block Nadia Chamack's number.
About two months after the initial incident, Nadia and Chat Noir had an exclusive interview, which Marinette watched to support her partner. They talked about her for about half the time he was on the air.
"Chat Noir, what do you think about Ladybug's identity reveal?" Nadia asked.
"It was nice to realize I knew her in real life, I suppose." Chat answered glumly.
"Would you ever consider revealing your true identity?"
"Never." Chat said. He looked into the cameras. "Paris has been relentless in torturing Ladybug about who she is and isn't. She can't go to school, she can't go down the street, she can't even leave her home. And she's not even safe at home. Don't think I'm unaware there are idiots who are trying to mine her house!" He pushed his hands through his hair. "Honestly, I get that you're all excited you know who she is. I would have been excited too, had circumstances been different. But after the 'welcome' you've given her, no. I will never let Paris have my identity. That's something you guys cannot corrupt."
Late that night, Marinette steeled her nerves and climbed up onto her balcony. It felt good to be out of her room. The plants she used to keep up there had been barraged by bb guns and three actual arrows with notes taped on. One note was old and too soggy to be read, the other was a love proclamation, and the last was a warning to get out of their city. Gee, it sure felt great to be appreciated. Two boys on the street yelled and waved to her but stopped when she ignored them. And twelve minutes after his live interview ended, Chat came running along the rooftops. He stopped when he saw her.
"Hey, partner." She said quietly when he batoned himself onto her balcony.
"Hey yourself." He muttered and leaned against the railing beside her.
"I saw your interview."
"It was pretty lousy. I know she's been pestering you, but-"
"How could you have known that?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't sure you'd want to see me, but I've been dropping by to talk to your parents about you in civilian form. I was always with a group. So, they won't remember me."
"Glad to know you're chummy with my parents."
"Yeah." He dug his claw into a layer of paint on the balcony. "I'm really sorry. I know how much that secret meant to you."
Marinette exhaled. "Yeah. Not the way I imagined you figuring me out."
"Hard to believe you imagined me figuring you out at all." Chat said bitterly.
"Hey, now." Marinette frowned. "Of course, I did. I wasn't going to hide forever. I was just hoping we could defeat Hawkmoth first. Course, that worked out really well. Now every single Akuma wants to crush my house and hold my parent's hostage."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault."
"I know, but I wish I could have done more." He sighed. "I feel really guilty because I used your big reveal to cover up my own transformation."
Marinette laid a hand on his forearm. "At least one of us is still protected."
"Yeah… I know I've always been all about knowing who you are, but after seeing everything you've gone through I feel really bad for always pressuring you to tell me. Can you forgive me that?"
"Of course, Chaton. You were always a curious kitten."
Chat chuckled without humor and stood up. "It's just… all the paparazzi and threats to you have made me realize I like the anonymity a lot more than I realized. I mean, I have it pretty bad too in both of my lives but…"
"Oh? Do I have a famous kitty? Perhaps you're the star of those cats vs cucumbers youtube videos?" Marinette laughed. "Or possibly the cats on catnip ones?"
"Didn't know you were so interested, m'lady?" He quipped back and nudged her shoulder. "Point is, this whole thing has made me a lot cautious. I feel really back and wish I could have done more, but a part of me is really glad that-" He choked. "It's not-"
"You." Marinette finished for him. She totally understood. If this had happened to Chat, she would have felt awful for him but would have been grateful her family didn't know.
"Yeah." Chat agreed guiltily. "I'm sorry if that sounds bad or selfish, but I would have been murdered if my… the family found out who I was. They would have taken my ring and literally had me locked up."
"I'm sorry Chat." Marinette sighed. "My parents have been really kind about it, but the day is coming. They're putting in orders for sensors over my windows and my trapdoor, so I won't be able to sneak out like I used to. I imagine they're going to try and sit me down for a talk about it soon."
"They're not much they'll be able to do." Chat said. "I mean, you do have to save Paris." He tapped his fingers on the metal railing. "I probably won't reveal myself to even you for a long, long time. I used to think it would be cool to tell people, but I- I happen to know Alya from a distance and seeing how distant she's been to you and what's she's been putting on the Ladyblog, I'm really glad I didn't tell my best friends. And I trust you with my life, but…" He put his head in his hands.
"I totally get it." Marinette nodded. "And about Alya, don't worry. If she keeps this up, I'm either going to let her go and cut my burdens, or I'll knock her upside the head and we'll try and mend our friendship." She sighed. "I admit she hasn't been the most supportive as of late, but that's why I have you, right?"
"Except I haven't been around much either." Chat growled.
"I needed my space." Marinette protested. She ruffled Chat's hair. "Go home now, and don't worry about me. Nothing has to change, and you can keep your identity. Frankly, I advise you to do so." Marinette pointed down to the front of the house where chalk ladybugs had been drawn all over the sidewalk. One had been a particularly busty, vulgar drawing of her heroine version that her dad had taken to with a metal scrub brush and soap until all you could see was the remains of her mask and hair.
Chat chuckled. "Yeah," He agreed as he stood up. He took her hand and kissed it like he used to always do back before things were complicated. She giggled as he climbed up onto the railing. "No reveal tonight then." He said softly.
"Nope." Marinette giggled.
"I still love you. With or without the mask." Chat said earnestly.
Marinette's smile grew a little unsteady. "I love you too Chat. You're my partner and my friend."
Chat scoffed and rolled his eyes impishly. "You'll fall for me one day." He vowed.
"Uh huh. Keep dreaming." She told him.
"Goodnight LB."
"Goodnight Chat."
He saluted her and launched himself away. Marinette didn't wait to see where he went. She opened her trap door and plopped down onto her bed, only to see her parents sitting on her chaise. They smiled at her when she looked over at them.
"What?" She asked.
Their smiles grew.
"What?" She asked again.
"Ladynoir!" Her dad whispered loudly.
"Agh! Um, no, dad, um... it's not like that at all!" She held her hands out like she was holding the truth on a silver platter.
Tom chuckled even more childishly. "Ladynoir!" He hissed through a large smile. Sabine smiled serenely.
"One day." She said. "Now, come downstairs. It's time we talked about this mess." She stood up. Marinette smiled, which felt good since her cheeks were still a bit raw from all the crying she'd been doing for the last two months. Anyone who didn't know she was mourning the loss of her identity might have thought she was crying over being dumped or something since she'd been so dramatic.
She followed her parents downstairs, where they sat down in front of the kitchen window with the Eiffel tower glowing in the soft distance. Marinette imagined she could see Chat sitting on top, even though he'd probably gone home, and he would be too small to see anyway.
Paris was quiet. Down in the alley by her home, people painted her face onto the sidewalks. Throughout the streets, people passed her name along. Life would never be the same again, but she imagined that maybe, just maybe, peace was possible.
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