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fallingappleshurt · 4 years

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He won then we lost but it’s okay

( I wrote something for the FD!AU made by @antarctic-bay !! I love your AU so it was really fun to write something for it!! And if the original creator doesn’t like this then I’ll delete it!!

And keep in mind this writing isn’t canon!! It’s just a Drabble I wrote in like 6 non-consecutive hours! And I’m sorry for any funky formatting, I wrote this in a google doc then copied it here lmao)

(TW: Swearing and light ‘angst’)

The world moved in slow motion as the ball hit the rim, Tommy held his breath.

It slipped through the rim, the buzzer sounded.

Tommy let out the breath as a scream. He did it, he made the shot, they won.

They won.

He looked up to his brothers, Techno was screaming like a mad man, cheering loudly, “Oh my God! That’s my- that’s my brother! Holy shit!” Wilbur was just as loud, throwing his arms around Techno as they yelled.

And Phil.

He made it.

He stood there with the biggest grin on his face, eyes shining as he cheered. For him.

It was the best feeling.

Then his team was surrounding him, cheering, clapping him on his shoulders, messing up his hair. He was laughing, it was a happy, half- hyperventilating, shriek as a few of his team mates attempted to pick him up.

Soon the crowd was clearing and his brothers were moving onto the court to congratulate him. Techno slung an arm around his shoulder while Wilbur messed up his hair, laughing.

Phil smiled at him, eyes shining with pride.

“Tommy that was amazing, I’m so proud of you!”

Tommy smiled so hard his face hurt.

Techno and Wilbur were listening as Tommy babbled on about the points he scored when Phil went to talk to Coach Pete.

“Since Tommy joined the team he’s been so great, you can almost forget about him being a delinquent!”

The three youngers froze in place, none of them dared move as Phil scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Ever since Tommy joined the team, he’s been fighting much less than before, it’s wonderful.”

“Yes, I guess it is.” Phil turned slowly to look at his younger brothers, who all smiled nervously back.

“Run,” Techno hissed at them.

“Tech’s right, he can’t catch us all.” Wilbur agreed.

“Well, it’s been a long day, I’m sure you guys are tired,” Phil said, throwing an arm around Wilbur’s shoulders, “And we have a few things to discuss, don’t we boys?”

They walked towards the car awkwardly, Techno and Tommy climbed into the backseat while Wilbur and Phil got upfront. Once they started to pull out of the parking lot Phil started;

“What the fuck did he mean?” He asked, looking back sharply at Tommy.

“Well, um, you see, so-” Tommy stammered before looking at Techno, “Help me out a little here!”

“You’re the delinquent dude,” Was all he got.

“Oh my god, you’re useless- anyways, uh, I learned how to fight at Deo’s Dojo, cause people at our school- people at our school really suck, man, they suck and I wanted to be able to defend myself and others, ya know?”

Phil nodded slowly, with an eyebrow raised, “Okay, that still doesn’t explain the ‘delinquent’ thing.”

“He was essentially being a vigilante, since bullying is a big problem at our school, he stops a lot of it.” Techno added, “If it makes you feel better, I checked him over, he was never hurt too badly.”

“So you knew about it?”

Techno’s face dropped slightly, “Uhhhh, there is a great possibility that I did.”

“Wilbur was in on it too!” Tommy blurted out, trying to take some of the heat off Techno.

“What!” Phil ripped his eyes off the road to gape at Wilbur while Wilbur himself whipped around to glare at Tommy,“Seriously?!”

“All three of you were doing this shit?!” Phil snapped, looking back at the road.

“Not the fighting, I just helped figure out who was an asshole, Tommy beat them up, and Techno made sure Tommy was okay afterwards.” Wilbur crossed his arms, looking out the window.

“How- how did you three even manage to pull this off?”

“Wilbur knows a lot of people and was able to get information from them. Techno did medical research to make sure he knew what to do and I practiced a lot, so it just kind of worked.” Tommy mumbled.

Phil just shook his head slightly, “Well, for starters you guys are grounded.”

“Yeah, I saw that coming.” Wilbur shrugged.

“Thanks a lot Tommy,” Techno grumbled,

“What do you mean ‘Thanks a lot Tommy’? You gladly helped me!”

“Not gladly-”

“Fucking lies dude! Lies!”

They continued down the road in silence, tension filled the air, when Tommy noticed Phil’s shoulders start to shake, it took him a minute to realize that Phil was laughing.

It started out as a quiet chuckle that grew into guffawing.They were at a stoplight when it evolved into loud, infectious,cackling, soon they were laughing along with him, nervousness and tension fading away as Phil shoved his face in his hand.

“It’s just,” He broke off laughing, “It’s so stupid, How- how did you even manage to pull this off?” He cackled again before taking a breath, eyes raking over his younger brothers, “You guys are idiots,” He grinned fondly and Tommy sighed, It was a good night.

They had arrived home and Tommy immediately went to shower, once he got out and changed he stepped into his shared room he was greeted by Techno, who was laying upside down on his bed, rolling a fidget cube between his fingers, and Wilbur, who was on the floor, scribbling in a notebook.

“What are you guys doing?”

“We are still feeling kind of bad about the whole, so we wanted to do something for Phil,” Techno explained.

“We are between making a big feast for dinner tomorrow for both you and Phil or some off brand fourth of July thing with possibly illegal firecrackers,” Wilbur said, biting the end of his pencil.

“Definitely the dinner,” Tommy said flatly, flopping down on his bed, exhausted, “We don’t need him more upset with whatever option two was.”

“Yeah, we were leaning towards that.”

“You should have been falling towards it,” Tommy said, throwing his towel on his desk chair.

“Next part is what should we make? I think a whole chicken would-”

“Wait!” Techno shot up suddenly, “Hang on!” He rushed out of the room, tripping over his own feet.

“Could you have an attention span longer than two minutes?” Wilbur called after him, rolling his eyes. A few minutes later Techno came back into the room and slid towards Wilbur on his knees, shoving a dusty box at him.

“What the hell is that?” Tommy asked, rolling over to look at his brothers.

“Are those mom’s old recipes?” Wilbur asked, sitting up.

“Yes! Phil said one of these was his favorite! I don’t exactly remember which one but it’s one of these!” Techno grinned widely, Wilbur flipped through the worn recipes, gaping, “Tech this is perfect!”

“I think his favorite was the chicken parm or something like that.” Tommy said, leaning over the edge of his bed.

“I think he’s right,” Techno agreed.

After twenty minutes of scheming and sorting they had a plan, it was almost perfect when Tommy asked; “Wait, how are we going to get all of the ingredients? We’re grounded!”

“I got it covered,” Wilbur said, pulling out his phone, texting someone, a few moments later he grinned before slipping it back in his pocket.

“My friend is gonna pick up the ingredients for us in the morning and drop them off, so we technically won’t break any rules.”

“This’ll be great! As long as we can pull it off!” Tommy beamed, Techno and Wilbur nodded in agreement. They’d make it up to their brother.

The next morning after Phil headed off to work, Wilbur’s friend showed up with all of the ingredients, after they unloaded it all and Wilbur paid them back, painfully, they were ready to start. Techno started picking up around the apartment more while Wilbur and Tommy prepped the kitchen.

“Tommy do you know how to dice things?”

“Probably,”

“Oh my God, it’s gonna be a long day.”

After a long day of cooking, cleaning, and baking, it was finally done. They had set the table, the food was out, the cake Techno made was chilling in the fridge and most of the dishes were done, all that was left to do was wait.

And that was the worst part.

Ten minutes later and Phil finally walked through the door, shoulders drooping.

“Hey guys,” He greeted weakly, waving at Wilbur in the kitchen. He set down his bag and coat on the couch then looked over at the table to see it fully set, covered in food and his brothers standing next to it with nervous smiles.

“Surprise!” Tommy’s voice was barely stronger than a whisper, he watched as life flooded back into Phil’s eyes.

“What- what is this?” He took a step closer.

“We wanted to celebrate Tommy’s victory and try to make up the whole delinquent, vigilante thing, so we did this,” Tommy explained quietly, “Do you like it?”

“This, guys, this is-” Phil paused, a gentle smile pulled at his lips as he chuckled, “This is amazing.” He wrapped an arm around them, eyes watering;

“I’m so proud of you guys.”

(Why does tumblr not like my italics??)

#sleepy boys inc #sleepyboysinc #technoblr #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #technoblade #FD!AU #fd au #family dynamics #sbi #minecraft youtubers #fanfiction #fanfic #apps writing???#Apples Writing

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

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| the seijoh cat chronicles | ch.1

»»——⍟——««

title | how it all begin

summary | A series about what you and your four feline buddies get up to. No romantic relationships, more platonic (If that’s what you call the relationship between a person and their pet cat(s)). Chaos ensues. If no one got the hint, I’m crazy about the friendship between the Seijoh third years. Here is that friendship, but cat-ified. Enjoy.

words | 1.7k

author’s note | I fumbled with this idea for a few days, deleted multiple drafts, but here’s the final product.

beginning | next | ao3

»»——⍟——««

Do not. Do not. Do not. You chanted repetitively to yourself, narrowing your field of vision and forcing yourself to look forward. Even without looking back, you could feel the four stares on you, their silent pleas and whimpers drowning all rationality that you had left.

“God, fuck it!” The other pedestrians on the street jumped, staring at you, the oddball that just spun on your heels, half of your coat drenched as you had let your umbrella fall to one side while getting absorbed in your thoughts.

You could literally feel what they were saying. You came back, four pairs of eyes stared up at you brightly, happily, as they all scrambled around each other, silver name tags around their necks ringing like a xylophone in the drunk melody of the rain. You came back for us. They said.

The sky rumbled above you, as if telling you, you are going to regret this decision, but as you looked back hesitatingly at the four pairs of eyes, you realise there was no way you were going to be able to say no. “I’m going to get drenched for you guys.” You mumbled, coming to the conclusion that there was no way you could carry the box and your umbrella at the same time (After fumbling around like a clumsy five-year-old by the side of the street for approximately three minutes). “You better make this worth it.” Your tone was stern, meant to make the four calm down, but somehow it had the opposite effect.

You must’ve looked pretty weird. Your coat was draped over the giant cardboard box in your arms, and your umbrella was closed, wet, and hooked to the side of your arm, useless due to the number of hands you had been born with. Onlookers glanced at you and whispered- Who is that woman? After all, you were walking in the rain, a box in your hands, getting absolutely soaked despite literally having an umbrella on your arm. The weirdest thing of all was that you had a smile on your lips.

»»——⍟——««

“Welcome home!” Said you in a happy but tired tone. Four heads peered out from the box under your drenched coat. “This’ll be your home now, so you four better get used to this and not make a mess!”

Four pairs of eyes looked up at you. Golden-hazel, pink-brown, dark grey, and a mossy green.

“Well, let’s take a look at your names.” You sighed, sitting down on the floor and picking up your drenched coat. As if they knew what you were doing, the four of them leapt out of the box, a loud shriek coming from you when you realised how muddy their paws were.

Startled looks flashed across their feline faces as they stared at you in bewilderment. “That’s it!” You threw your hands into the air. “Back in the box!”

You aren’t throwing us back on the street, are you? They forced out their cutest expressions, widening eyes and pouting as much as a cat could possibly pout.

“Don’t give me that look.” You said with a tired sigh, running a hand through your rain-damp hair. “No, I’m not throwing you onto the street. I’m giving all five of us a well needed bath.”

You knew they were going to run before they even knew it themselves. Like a flash, your fingers were reaching for the hazel-furred cat, chucking (Well, not a literally chuck) it back into the box. “No you don’t.” You gritted your teeth, snatching the other one that tried to run away- A strawberry-blonde one with his pretty fur tainted with dirt- It was like someone splattered dirty, brown paint onto a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms.

Much to your surprise, the two dark-furred ones- One black and one a shade of grey- Sat quietly, licking their paws in an effort to get rid of the dark patches of mud on their fur. Not that the patches were very visible, anyway, because of how dark their fur was.

And that was how you ended locking yourself in the bathroom with four cats, two of which were terrified of water. “Will you stop struggling!” You wrestled with the hazel-furred cat, who yowled his protests at being drenched as the other two watched in amusement and the strawberry-blonde one shivered and waited for his turn.

“There!” After a good long struggle, you had managed to work out the dirt clogged up in the hazel-furred feline’s coat. Laughter bubbled out of your throat as you caught sight of the expression he was wearing. “Grumpy cat.” You teased, scratching a spot behind his ears. Much to your surprise, he purred, leaning more into the scratch. “You like that, huh?...” You squinted at the collar that you discarded on the floor. “Tooru.”

It was pretty obvious that he once had an owner that called him by his name, because the moment the word slipped from your lips, his golden-brown eyes lit up and his ears perked up straight. The aquamarine collar went back around his neck with a satisfying click, Tooru sitting up a little straighter, looking less miserable.

The two dark-furred ones got clean without much trouble- In fact, you were pretty sure they enjoyed the bath. Hajime got his bath first, his spiky fur unyielding and insisting on pointing in just about every direction despite how soaked he was.

“How?” You were bewildered, patting down Hajime’s fur, only for it jump back up in the next second. “Are you sure you’re not a hedgehog?”

Are you serious, Hajime’s expression deadpanned. His mossy green eyes sparkled under the sharp white light of the bathroom, drawing you in and making you instantly give away a section of your heart for the cat with hedgehog-fur.

Out of the four, Hajime was the buff-est, despite having the shortest stature. His muscles rippled, your eyes entranced as he laid on his back, yowling for belly rubs (Which you gave into). When you tried to move on to Issei, he grabbed your hands with his paws and insisted on another two more minutes of belly scrubs. At this point, Issei had curled up on a dry corner of the shower and dozed off.

“Alright, Hajime, you’ll get more belly scrubs later.” You tried to compromise, the cat looking slightly disgruntled. If he could speak, you were sure he just grumbled. Rather loudly. “Here you go!” For some odd reason, you felt like a proud mother watching her six-year-old graduate kindergarten as you clipped his collar back on, the word ‘Hajime’ carved into the metal. “Aren’t you a handsome boy.” You cooed, ruffling his spiky hair.

If Hajime was the most muscled one, Issei was the lankiest. He wasn’t particularly large, just... Long, but not sleek, like Tooru. Somewhere between average size and Hajime-size. Did you just use another cat to define a cat? Yes.

Issei enjoyed the bath as much as Tooru didn’t. You felt like a professional cat masseur at this point, scrubbing the dried mud out of the grey-furred cat’s coat. By the time you were done, your arms had gotten an all-round workout. “Did you guys go roll in the mud or something.” You mumbled, wiping the thousandth bead of sweat off your forehead. If every droplet of sweat you sweated equalled to a pearl, you’d be so rich you’d never have to work again for the rest of your life.

“Alright.” You smiled, signing in relief when you realised you were down to the last guy. “You’re next!” The strawberry-blonde feline stared at you, glancing at the two clean, dark-furred ones next to him, and Tooru, who had squeezed himself into the dryest corner of the shower. “Yes, I’m talking to you.”

Much to Hiro's despair, he wasn’t able to evade your attempts to capture him, and was almost instantly picked up by the scruff by your lightning-fast hands.

“Nice try, little guy.” You said with a smirk, laughing at the terrified expression on his face. “Alright, alright. It’s going to be okay.” Your fingers reached for his muddied neck, stroking around to find the right spot that would make him become a purring machine. “There we go...” Humming softly, you watched as the cat closed his eyes in contentment, exposing more of his neck for you to scratch.

By some miracle, you managed to get him calm enough to get him soaked and soaped up with your hair shampoo (Now all four of them smelt like lavender). By another large landslide of a phenomenon, you were able to keep him under control to get the shampoo out of his fur, too.

Stepping back to admire your handiwork- The four cats seated in your shower with you, two of them looking slightly less miserable now- You opened the shower door to let them roam into the dry bathroom. “Don’t break anything!” You called out- As if that would actually stop them.

A hot shower turned out to be exactly what you needed. You sure were surprised when you stepped out of the shower, two of them were scuffling around on the bathroom floor- Namely, Hajime and Tooru- And both Issei and Hiro was watching in amusement. To their credit, it was a lot less disastrous than you’d expected.

“Does anyone want to be blow-dried?” You offered, plugging the appliance into the electrical socket. They padded towards you, curiosity lighting up their eyes as they gathered around you in a circle (All of a sudden, you felt like the four of them were performing a ritual, with you inside their circle as the sacrifice).

The saying goes that curiosity killed the cat. Well, the saying should be changed to ‘Curiosity gave the cat a panic attack’. The moment the blow dryer started up, you had four cats darting around the bathroom like hell just broke loose in your tiny bathroom. In the two seconds that the dryer was on, they managed to make a scratched masterpiece of your bathroom door,

“Okay, okay!” You yelped, turning it off in their panic. The four of them looked at you in horror, staring at you with looks of betrayal in their eyes- As if you’d just thrown them back out on the street. “A no would’ve sufficed. Guess I won’t be vacuuming anytime soon, either.”

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notes | did I have to google ‘Are cats scared of hair dryers?’ ... Yes. Yes I did.

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general taglist: @whootwhoot @owlywrites @hikari-writes

»»——⍟——««

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa issei x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki takahiro x reader #aoba johsai #aoba johsai x reader #seijoh #seijoh x reader #the seijoh cat chronicles #cadyh2o #cady writesss «

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jaqdawks · 3 years

Text

I wrote a little short story thing, where these two go shopping lol

Gonna post it cuz why not

Word count - 2308

Trigger Warnings - Mentions to doomsday cult branding and a barely avoided panic attack

Béla pulled up by the bus, right around where Rameir stood in line. He rolled his window down and pointed at him. “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Rameir obliged, glad to have any reason to postpone going home.

The inside of the car was average, other than the steering wheel being on the right hand side of the car.

“Don’t see that every day,” Rameir mused as he got in the back seat.

“Huh?”

“The wheel.”

Béla glanced back at him and then his steering wheel. “Oh, yeah. My mom was pretty determined to keep her old car when she moved from Europe.”

“And she’s giving it to you now?”

Béla shrugged. “It’s old. Anyways, I don’t have anything that’s actually warm enough to keep up with winter.” As the bus started, Béla got around it to pass it. He continued, “So we’re going to the mall.”

“And how come you’re taking me with you?”

Béla glanced at him through the rear view mirror. “I’ve been wanting to get you something decent in your wardrobe for ages.”

Rameir frowned. “I don’t have any money with me.”

“Don’t worry, shit’s on sale right now, it’ll be fine. If you really feel bad about it, we can go by some thrift stores.”

Rameir sat back and shut up for the rest of the drive. He wondered what his parents would think. He called them, but they didn’t pick up. He texted them, but his dad had a rule about calling over texting.

“Got a curfew?” Béla chimed in.

“I’ve never really stayed out before, so my parents never established one.”

“Oof. Okay, we’ll get you home by. . . How far out do you live again?”

“Almost an hour out of town.”

“Fuck,” Béla muttered, “Okay, well it’s a Friday so worst case scenario you can spend the night.”

Béla pulled into the mall’s parking lot and got a space near the entrance. Rameir hesitantly stepped out, leaving his backpack behind.

“You look nervous,” Béla commented.

“I’ve never really been in a mall.”

“Holy shit you are sheltered,” Béla whistled, “This was a good idea. I should have done this sooner.”

Rameir followed him into the building. That smell of money, the kind that’s been all around and smells more like people’s hands than paper, it was as if it hit him in the face when he walked in. Bright displays of makeup and skincare products lined the shelves, Rameir looked over to Béla in confusion.

“This is just their cosmetics floor.”

“There’s several floors?”

Béla responded as if that was obvious, “Yeah, Nordstrom is like, rich as fuck. Anyways this is just one of the convenient entrances, let’s go.”

He led Rameir through the store. Rameir felt a breath of relief when they stepped into the main part of the mall and escaped the white tiles and white floors and fluorescent lights of Nordstrom. Rameir looked out at all the shops, randomly placed indoor benches, and clusters of people walking by.

Béla raised an eyebrow at Rameir’s stare. “Jesus Christ, you really haven’t been in a mall before, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I should have brought reinforcements,” Béla said under his breath, “C’mon, let’s start at Aéropostale.”

Rameir followed awkwardly behind him, until Béla got fed up with his non-confrontation and backpedaled to walk next to him. Rameir kept his head down as Béla tried to start a conversation with him multiple times.

It wasn’t as long of a walk as Rameir could have hoped.

As they entered the store, a cashier greeted them from behind the counter. The store was mostly empty, other than the occasional teen around their age group hidden behind wracks of clothes.

Béla started towards the back, dragging Rameir along.

They stopped at a table with folds of various shirts on it, and some mannequins behind it. “So, what exactly do you like? And if it’s anything close to what you already wear, I’m gonna invalidate your opinion.”

Rameir looked over the shirts. He hesitantly picked up one with a Polaroid logo on it, and Béla shook his head. “That's extra small. Hold on.” Béla’s hands reached around the back of his collar and flipped over the tag on his shirt. “Okay, medium, right?”

Rameir felt goosebumps prickling up his back.“I guess.”

Béla took the shirt and put it back on the pile, then flipped through it and picked up a different one that was a bit bigger. “Here.”

Rameir took it reluctantly. He stared at the shirts, not quite considering them.

“You look like a deer in headlights.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not really in your element here, huh?”

“No.”

Béla rested his hand on his hip. “Do you need help picking things out?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, this’ll be fun,” Béla grinned. He picked up a few shirts, some striped, some plain, some with pictures or designs on them. Some he put down after considering them for a minute, some he handed over to Rameir. By the end, they’d picked out four shirts on the sale wrack and one jacket that Rameir thought looked cool.

“Okay, now what?” Rameir asked once they both decided they’d found enough for this store.

Béla motioned to the changing rooms. “Well, go try them on.”

Rameir froze. “What?”

“It’d be a waste if we bought all this stuff and it turned out it doesn’t fit you.”

“I don’t know, I don’t really like, y’know, changing in public.”

“You’ll be alone, no ones gonna see you dude.”

Rameir tensed his fists. “Are you sure?”

“Go ahead. The doors even lock from the inside.” He gave Rameir a gentle push in their direction. “I’m gonna look around for myself for a second. If anything doesn’t fit you, just leave it behind.”

Rameir sighed to himself and took the clothes to one of the rooms.

Of course, there was a mirror right on the wall to stare back at him. He sat the stuff down on the small bench and locked the door behind him. For a moment, he just stared at his reflection, before he frowned at it and slowly took his shirt off.

He avoided direct eye contact at the cult’s brand on his chest as he changed through the different shirts. They all fit fine, Rameir put his own shirt back on and gathered them up and folded them.

He spotted Béla looking through some jackets, and walked over to him with all the stuff.

Béla glanced at the folded pile and then back at the jackets on the wall wracks. “Did you try them?”

“Yeah.”

“They all fit?”

Rameir nodded.

“Great. Just gimme a minute.”

Béla gathered a small pile of stuff for himself together and left Rameir to wait on a bench near the changing rooms. Rameir fiddled with one of the tags and wondered what his parents would think when he came home with shopping bags. He checked his phone, still no reply.

Béla stepped out of the changing room a few minutes later. “Okay, ready to go,” he announced.

They took all the stuff to the cash register, and Béla swiped his card without hesitation.

“How much of that do I owe you?” Rameir asked.

“None.”

Rameir would check the tags at home and figure out how much on his own, then.

They bid the cashier goodbye and left a moment later.

“Levi’s next,” Béla had said, but they stopped at a small shop called Claire’s first. Béla didn’t push Rameir to buy anything, he found a pair of earrings with cherries dangling from them and brought them to the counter. That was all.

When they did get to Levi’s, Béla dragged him straight to the jeans section. Rameir was amazed by a store’s ability to have a whole section for jeans.

“Do you know your waist size?”

“No.”

Béla picked some ripped jeans in various sizes. “Okay, you’ll just have to see what works.” He thrusted several pairs of jeans into Rameir’s arms. “When you figure out which fits, tell me. I wanna see what they look like on you.”

Rameir gave him a puzzled look. “Okay?”

Béla waited by the changing rooms this time. Rameir found it easier to try them on than the shirts—there weren’t any suspicious marks on his legs, after all.

“Got one?” Béla called into the room.

“Think so.”

“Show me!”

Rameir stepped out, feeling not very self confident. Béla took a picture, and Rameir went pale.

“What the hell?”

“Relax. I’m only sending it to Drew, then I’ll delete it.”

Rameir’s stomach did pathetic flips, and his lungs felt too empty. He stepped back into the changing room and covered his face with his hands.

“Are you alright in there?” Béla asked.

Rameir didn’t respond.

“If it’s any consolation, Drew said you look cute.”

Rameir still didn’t respond. He didn’t know why, but he felt so ashamed.

Béla stepped in, Rameir had forgotten to lock the door again. “Hey, for real, you okay?”

“Please get out,” Rameir squeaked in a small voice.

Béla backed off. “Sorry.”

He closed the door behind him, and Rameir sat down on the changing room stool and tried to pull himself together. With a tired sigh, he changed back into his own clothes again and brought the jeans that fit back out.

Béla was having a very quiet phone call with someone when Rameir walked out. He paused mid-sentence, before saying to the person on the other line, “He’s back, gotta go.” He hung up quickly and stood up.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, just my dad,” Béla responded, “Anyways, what’s the waist size?”

Rameir checked the tag. “Thirty by Thirty-two.”

“Cool. Pretty much everything is the same here so, you don’t have to try any other pants on as long as we’re getting them in that size.”

To Rameir, he sounded like he might be stretching the truth. But Rameir didn’t question it. “Alright.”

“Let’s just grab one more, your choice.”

They found something sub par, cargo pants that Rameir could tolerate the color of. It seemed that cargo pants always came in a color that was almost a good shade of brown but not quite there. Béla texted someone quickly, before he left Rameir to sit on his own again.

“If you wanna wander and see anything else you like, feel free. I’m just gonna look around again.”

Rameir didn’t. He sat and tried to get over his feeling of overwhelm. His phone vibrated in his pocket, so he pulled it out to see who was calling. He’d hoped it would be his dad calling him back, it was Drew instead.

Rameir held the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

Drew’s voice sounded on the other line. “Hi.” Rameir felt like the electrical technicalities of how phones worked didn’t do his voice justice. “Béla said you kind of freaked out earlier, is everything alright?”

“Kinda, sorta.”

Drew waited for him to continue.

So he did. “I’ve just never been shopping before, and it’s a bit much.”

“Yeah, I feel ya. They’re super loud and there’s way too many people.”

“Oh,” Rameir said, “it’s not really crowded right now.”

“You would not enjoy them in the middle of the day.”

Rameir laughed slightly. “Probably not.”

“Sorry if Béla is being a bit intense, too,” Drew rambled on, “He’s kinda. . . passionate about these things.”

“It’s alright.”

“So, how’s the shopping going?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Rameir admitted, “I usually just got all my clothes from my cousin, sometimes my parents would bring stuff home, that’s about it.”

“Excited about the new stuff?”

Rameir half-smiled. “A bit. I feel bad though.”

“Oh, how come?”

“Well, Béla’s paying for it all, and yeah.”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s got all sorts of reward discounts,” Drew assured him with a hearty chuckle, “He could probably whittle the price of a shirt down to a dollar if he tried.”

Rameir watched Béla take a small stack of clothes into a changing room. “Yeah.”

“I gotta go now. If it starts to get late, you can tell Béla to drop you off with me. I can get my parents to vouch for you not coming home last night.”

“Thanks, I’ll consider it.”

“Alright, goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Rameir clicked the hang up button. A missed call notification popped up from his cousin. Rameir didn’t want to deal with Faust right now, he didn’t call often and he didn’t call with friendly intentions, so he ignored it.

Béla took another moment in the changing room. When he finished, they took the stuff to the counter and left with the things in bags.

“You good for one more stop?” Béla checked.

“Sure.”

They went by one more shop with a name Rameir didn’t bother to read. He got a polo shirt that Béla insisted on, and that was it. He was far more worn out than he thought.

Béla seemed to pick up on this, and made the stop quick.

When they got back out to the car, Rameir was ready to collapse. Béla put their bags in the back. Rameir got into the back seat again and pressed his forehead against the headrest. He checked the time on his phone, it read 17:09.

“So, it’s kind of rush hour,” Béla said as he got into the driver’s seat, “It might take, like, a really long time to get you out to the countryside.”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna go get some dinner and try to wait it out, or should I just take you home?”

“Drew said you could drop me off at his place. So, that, I guess,” Rameir mumbled.

“Alright.”

Rameir sat back and put his seat belt on. Béla started the car and pulled out of the mall parking lot. Rameir tried to call his dad again, to no avail, then texted Drew that they were on their way.

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cecilsstorycorner · 3 years

Text

Find the Word Tag

Thanks @teriwrites for the tag!

So tbobs is giving me Trouble right now, and I’ve been trying to finally get things down solid, instead of just barreling forward with stuff I’ll only have to delete later, so my recent stuff has only been planning docs. So instead of desperately trying to find something canon from that for this, I’m gonna actually use the Collectors for this one! I have all of Act One written in script form, and miscellaneous scenes written in prose, so I’ll pull from both! Its uhhhhh not my best writing because it’s kinda Old but that’s okay

Fail

With a heavy sigh, she sat back upright and reopened the book. The words swam, failing to make sense to her sleep deprived mind. The thought crept into her mind to give up, go back to the warm comfort of her bed and wait for tomorrow. But that wasn’t an option. Not now.

Not when there’s only a few months left.

Around

PERCY: I think I have something already started- [He scoops up his book and notebook and rushes to his bedroom. He digs around in a box of old half finished projects, old letters, books, and other various trinkets, until he pulls out what seems to be a half finished wooden doll] Yes! [Calls out to Fiodh] Give me eight hours!

Promise

PERCY: If- if you’re afraid I’ll hurt her, I promise, I promise, I never ever would- she knows everything, she’s not in danger. Please, I swear.

Eyes

FIODH: Hey what the fuck was that? Is this where you ran off to? Have you been here for two hours?

PERCY: [Looks at them, but doesn’t move as he does so. After a moment, his eyes return to watching the stream] I’m sorry.

asjhgfgafd okay script excerpts look Weird huh. Oh well hopefully this’ll incentivize me to work more on the prose rewrite.

I’ll tag @stardustspiral, @metanoiamorii, and @crystallized-ink if you’d like to! Your words can be wake, jar, problem, and fire!

#tag game #the collectors #excerpt #this story is WAY more simple in structure than tbobs so i may try and focus on it for a bit to get my brain warmed up #before tackling the complex nightmare that is that one

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fuyupeach · 4 years

Text

In The Works // Ryuji Sakamoto x Reader - chapter 7

prologue / ch.1 / ch.2 / ch.3 / ch.4 / ch.5 / ch.6

The three of you run through the eerie prison, stopping when you reach a bridge, still suspended in the air, a statue of Kamoshida right next to it. The boy pulls on the statue’s jaw, the bridge staying still. You look around. It’s a dead end, the bridge being the only way to make more progress forward.

“Dammit! How the hell’re we supposed to get outta here!?” Ryuji sighs irritatedly.

“We’ll figure something out.” You say, looking around for ways to cross without the bridge. The water is rushing way too fast, and looks deep. Your stomach twists at the thought of having to swim--you didn’t know how.

“...Hey, you there.” A voice calls out. You look around, but don’t see anyone. Great. Now you ran the risk of not only getting caught and killed by whoever that Kamoshida was, but now you were hearing voices.

“Hey! I’m right here! Frizzy hair, Blondie, Black tights!” The voice continues. The boy and Ryuji turn around now as well. Glad to know you weren’t the only one hearing something.

You look down this time, seeing a cat like creature pawing at you through the prison gate. A standing talking cat? This has to be the weirdest day of your life.

“What… what?? ” You mutter to yourself.

The cat (it protests that it is in fact not a cat) says its name is Morgana, and proposes a deal with the three of you, agreeing to show you the way out if you free them.

“You better not be lying to us.” You glare down at the black and white cat, their blue eyes widening as the bespectacled boy unlocks the gate. Your patience had gone out the window at this point.

“Follow me and stay quiet!” Morgana runs off ahead of you.

The three of you follow Morgana around the dungeon, the boy fighting with them. Morgana had called the spirit fighting alongside them a “persona”. You couldn’t help but wonder how the two of them knew immediately what to call them. You had to scold Morgana multiple times, glaring at them whenever they talked down to Ryuji.

You finally stop in a room full of bookshelves and torches, Morgana saying the vent above them was the way out. Ryuji runs up the bookshelf and takes the mesh off the vent, falling back down.

“Oww… Crap, the enemy didn’t hear us, did they?” Ryuji asks, smoothing down his pants.

“Doesn’t matter at this point,” You say. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“Get going,” Morgana says, not moving from their spot.

“What about you?” Ryuji asks.

“There’s something that I still have to do.” Morgana replies. “We’re going our separate ways.”

“Thanks for your help,” You turn to Morgana. “If we see you again, I’d appreciate it if you’d cool it on the comments toward Ryuji.” You smile at them, eyes slightly narrowed. Ryuji rubs his neck, not sure what to say as he chuckles nervously.

“Don’t get caught again.” The boy says.

“You better be careful, too. See ya.” Morgana says, waiting as the three of you crawl out through the vent.

You’re transported back to where you first met the boy, the rain gone, and the sun now out, though still a bit cloudy. You check your phone, still breathing heavy from the run out the dungeon entrance gate. Your data was back, but fourth period was already almost over, your stomach sinking at the call you know the school is going to make home. If you hurry home after school, you can delete the message before your mom gets there.

“Did we make it?” Ryuji pants, hunched over.

“I’m assuming so,” You say, holding your phone out to him and showing him the screen. “My phone is working now. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Ryuji replies, already knowing you were asking about his leg. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I know. I can’t help it—” You say, cut off by an electronic voice coming from the bespectacled boy’s phone.

“You have returned to the real world. Welcome back.”

“Welcome back?” Ryuji questions. “What the hell is going on!?” The boy shrugs.

“What’s with all the yelling? Are you three students of Shujin?” A police officer comes over upon Ryuji’s yelling. You sigh, stepping in front of Ryuji. You didn’t need a police report on your records.

“Cutting classes are we?” The other officer questions.

“No officer,” You say in the kindest voice you can muster. “He and I are new students, we were told to come a bit later in the morning to meet with the principal and get to know the school campus. He was just yelling because we got a bit lost this morning because of the train incident.” You lie flawlessly, gesturing between you and Ryuji. “This is one of the student council members, we kept him waiting.” You chuckle nervously.

“...Hurry and get to school.” The officer says, turning around, the other officer following behind.

You turn back around to Ryuji, elbowing him in the arm. “You really ought to stop yelling in public.”

“S-sorry.” He mutters sheepishly. You turn to the boy, motioning to start walking as you all turn down the same alleyway from before.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. “At this point I say we might as well introduce ourselves.”

“I’m Akira Kurusu.” The boy says, pushing his glasses up a bit. “And you?”

“I’m _____” You tell him, looking at Ryuji next to you.

“I’m Ryuji Sakamoto.” Ryuji says, scratching his head. “Talk about a way to meet someone.”

“Tell me about it.” You nod.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the school gates, the real Shujin in front of you now. As soon as Ryuji questions what’s going on, a counselor comes out, dread filling your stomach as he speaks of a call they received from the police. This’ll be hard to explain…

———

The last bell rings, signaling the end of school. You pack up your things, Ryuji bouncing on his heels as he waits for you, ready to see if he can find Akira. You walk up to him, umbrella in hand as he opens the door, you closing it behind you as he walks ahead. Guess he already found him, you thought.

“...I heard the police caught you cutting classes today.” You hear Ms. Kawakami say as you slowly walk over. You make note of Akira’s classroom being 2-D.

“Ugh…” Ryuji sighs upon memory. “It was nothin’.”

“And you haven’t dyed your hair back to black either...” She frowns, looking at you after. You can’t help but shrug.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Ryuji frowns in return before turning to Akira and whispering. “We’ll be waiting on the rooftop.” Ryuji turns and leaves down the hall and up the stairs, you waving to Akira before following.

“You really think he’ll come?” You ask Ryuji, ignoring the stares that have become normal at this point. You hear voices speaking about Akira’s supposed criminal record. You wondered if you’d ever get to hear about it from him.

“I’m sure he will. We have to figure out what the hell is going on. Didn’t seem like the Kamoshida here had a clue what happened in that ‘castle’.” Ryuji replies, opening the rooftop door.

“We should keep quiet about this until we do figure out what’s going on.” You look pointedly at Ryuji, sitting in one of the laid out desk chairs. “No one seems to be aware of it besides us. I think that navigation voice has something to do with where we were.”

Akira comes up to the rooftop shortly after. You let Ryuji speak about Kamoshida and the castle, thanking Akira along with him.

“I feel like we’re gonna get along just fine as ‘troublemakers’.” Ryuji smirks. “I’ll come talk if I see you around. Don’t ignore us, alright? Seeya.”

————

“I don’t think it was a dream,” You tell Ryuji on the walk home. “If Akira saw it, and I saw it, it can’t possibly be fake. That felt way too real to be.” Your hands tighten around your umbrella. It didn’t feel as scary when you were there, but processing all of it now, you realize how terrifying the whole thing was. Monsters? A Kamoshida out to kill you? Prisons? It’d be a miracle if it was fake.

“Hey, look at me.” Ryuji stops you, grabbing your shoulders and turning you to face him. “I already know what you’re thinkin’. You said we’ll figure it out, right? Take your own advice.” He softly flicks your forehead, smiling at you. Your eyebrows unfurrow, a flush of nervousness in your stomach causing your eyes to widen as you look into Ryuji’s eyes. The setting sun makes his eyes look like honey, leaving you silent for a moment.

“O-okay.” You finally nod, taking a deep breath. “You’re—I’m…? Right.”

“Now let’s go home already. I don’t know about you, but I definitely need a nap after today.” Ryuji pushes you forward towards the train station, a laugh stumbling out of you.

You could hear Ann and Shiho teasing you in your mind as you wave bye to Ryuji as you get off the train on your stop.

You sigh as you start your trek home. Just how long was this crush going to last?

#ryuji sakamoto x reader #ryuji x reader #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #peach writes

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avalancheobsessed · 6 years

Text

Special Pt 1 - Tyson Jost

A/N: So I'm super duper new to this whole imagine, blurb, drabble situation and don't know the difference between them. So forgive me if I completely screw up and call something it isn't. Anyways I'm just gonna write and hopefully learn along the way. Totally didn’t just have a stupid moment where I accidentally deleted this post. Nope, no way.

WC: 1977

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

"This is your captain speaking, I apologize for the delay but we should be cleared for takeoff in 20 minutes. Thank you for your patience and choosing to fly Frontier." The captain's voice rings aloud and you roll your eyes. Your patience was running low and you were pretty sure that you were never going to choose to fly Frontier again. The flight had been delayed by 40 minutes already, and in 20 minutes, an hour. All you wanted was to go home, see your family and have some real food for a week or two, rather than eating microwaved food for every meal. No one in your dorm knew how to cook, so it was Ramen and anything that could be microwaved. You were also ready for your queen bed and super comfortable mattress. All that stands between you and all of that is this stupid plane and it can't do its job.

You can't be completely mad because you did score on a window seat in the back of the plane and two open seats next to you with no announcement of a full plane. Yet as you think that, here comes a very familiar looking person, stuffing their bags into the overhead bin and ducking below them to take the seat next to you. You would have been upset that your once empty row is now occupied by another person if it hadn't been Tyson Jost sitting down next to you. Yes, Tyson freaking Jost. This would be a big moment for anyone but it's a huge moment for you because as a teenager you had a celebrity crush on Tyson. As much as you hate to admit that, it is very true and it is coming back full strength now that you get an in-person look at him. He gives you a small smile which you return before shifting your eyes away.

He sets his backpack down in the aisle seat and takes some time rummaging through it. You watch him from his backside, repeatedly hating yourself over and over again for having a crush on him, but also loving it at the same time.

You direct your attention to what's in your hands, an English book and the following assignment. A big sigh escapes your lips and you see Tyson glance over at you out of the corner of your eye. You glance back at him and he gives you a slight smile which you return.

"What are you going to Denver for?" He asks, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You lean back in your seat and look up at him as you answer, "I'm seeing my family. I go to college in St. Albert. My parents live just outside of Denver. I'm (Y/N) by the way." You hold out your hand to shake. Butterflies filled your stomach and you start to mentally freak out. Are your hands sweaty? If they are will he care? Will he move seats?

"Oh, that's nice. I'm Tyson," he replies, taking your hand. He doesn't appear to be disgusted when he touches your hand so good, no sweaty hands.

"Yeah, I know." You mutter, pulling your hand back. You realize how weird and stalkerish that sounds but the words are already out, audible and clear.

He raises an eyebrow, "You do?"

You give him another smile, "It sounds creepier than it is, Josty." Hopefully saying Josty will be enough to make him realize you're just a fan, not some creepy stalker woman.

He chuckles slightly, "You like the Avs?" You internally give a sigh of relief and feel your muscles relax.

You roll your eyes, "Like? Love! Obsessed! Which sounds a lot worse than it is."

He laughs again, this deep, sensational laugh that gives you chills. You give in to a little chuckle only to look back at your English work. Your smile drops.

"Due when you come back from break," you imitate your snotty little English teacher who told you that as you packed up to leave class. The book analysis is due the day after you get back from break, no later. It's ridiculous.

"What's that?" Tyson asks, nodding at your book.

You sigh and lean back in your seat, frustrated that unless you finish this on the plane, you'll be working on it the whole break.

"It's an assignment in English, there's a book analysis due the day after I get back from break." You set the book and assignment down on your lap and run your hands over your face. Your English teacher clearly has no respect for family time which doesn't make sense because she's always babbling about it.

"Oh man, that sucks eh?" He asks again, the Canadian in him showing which is pretty cute.

"Awful. It's worse than Shakespeare and nothing is worse than Shakespeare." He laughs again and a small smile inches onto your face.

"Want any help?" His offer makes your heart skip a beat. Surely he has to sleep or something right? You know that the Avs bye week was this last week and that there are games coming up. In fact, you have tickets to one!

"You sure you don't want to sleep or anything?" Tyson shrugs his shoulders.

"No, I'm fine."

"Heh well, this'll put you to sleep anyways. It's so boring." You look over at him and he has a big smile on his face.

"What?" You ask, adjusting your position in the seat. He shakes his head, still smiling.

"I never thought someone could hate a book so much." You bite your lower lip and smile back at him.

"I normal-" you're interrupted by a loud ringing over the intercoms.

"Ladies and gentleman please prepare for takeoff. We apologize for the delays and hope you enjoy your flight to Denver." A flight attendants voice rings over the intercoms, and a chorus of celebrations echo throughout the aircraft.

"Yes!" You exclaim, raising a fist. A couple heads turn to look at you and you smile sheepishly.

Tyson chuckles, "You ready to go home?" You watch out of the corner of your eye as he messes with his seatbelt.

"Oh yeah. Miss my moms cooking and my bed." You say, putting your backpack down underneath the seat in front of you. You keep hold of the book and assignment while fixing the seatbelt across your lap.

"You ready to get back to playing?" You ask after adjusting yourself comfortably and putting a few things in the seatback pocket.

"Definitely. It was great going home for a little bit but I'm ready to be back with the boys, and getting back to work," he replies, putting his backpack underneath the seat in front of him, not grabbing anything.

"You sure you want to help with my homework?" You ask with a slight laugh.

Tyson shrugs his shoulders again, a smile inching onto his face, "Sure. I know how much of a pain it can be." He gives a slight chuckle.

"Okay, if you say so," you reply with a slight warning tone.

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

"I can't do this anymore," you say, frustratedly tossing your hands in the air, "It's so stupid!". You keep your voice hushed because people are you were sleeping and you didn't want to accidentally wake them and make them grumpy. Tyson takes the book from your hands and the bookmark lying on your tray and closes it.

"I think a break is in store for us." He says, smiling and nudging you with his elbow, trying to get you to lighten up a bit. A break sounded phenomenal as if I wasn't planning on taking one every twenty seconds.

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks for all your help. I don't think I'd be three-quarters of the way done if you weren't here," you offer a small smile back. He really had helped a lot. There were so many moments when you really wanted to quit and just take a nap but he'd keep talking about it until you figured it out. He didn't just give you the answers, he kind of acted like a parent, trying to indirectly tell their kid the answer but also trying to get them to figure it out.

"No problem. Are you coming to any of the games while you're in Denver?" He pulls his water bottle out of the seatback pocket and takes a swig from it. You watch him for a second, taking in his fluffy brown hair, scruff, and his brown eyes that changed hue with the light.

"Yeah, I'm coming to the New Year's Eve game. I turn 20 that day." You casually discard that last piece of information, as if it were nothing important. You feel the movement next to you halt and look up at him. Tyson is looking down at you with widened eyes and his mouth slightly dropped open. You shift uncomfortably under his longlasting gaze until he finally blinks and shakes his head.

"What?" You ask, very confused by his sudden lack of movement. He shakes his head again and you hear a slight rumble in his chest. Was he laughing?

"Are you laughing at me?" You ask, feeling slightly offended that he'd start laughing at the mention of your birthday. The rumbling stops and he waves his hands as if he were backpedaling.

"No, no I'm not laughing at that. You just cast it aside like it wasn't important. It just caught me off guard." You were still confused, but at least weren't offended anymore. Yeah, your birthday was the 31st but plenty of people shared that with you so you didn't feel like it was that special.

"Why wouldn't I cast it aside? It's not that special." You say with a shrug of your shoulders. You can feel him looking at you again and you turn to meet his gaze, which now seemed slightly saddened.

"Of course it's special. Everyone's birthday is special no matter how many people share it." Tyson smiles brightly at you, and you smile back feeling a little warmed.

He rests a hand on your right forearm that was resting on the armrest, "Tell you what, let me make your birthday special. You have tickets to the game, so is it okay if I talk to some of the guys on the team and at Pepsi Center and see if they can make your birthday feel special?" He offers you another smile and his words melt your heart. He wanted to make you feel special on your birthday. He wanted it to be memorable.

"You don't have to go through all that, I don't need it," Oh but you wanted it. It sounded amazing but it sounded so unnecessary that you didn't want him too.

"I don't have to but I want to. Please?" He leans in a little bit, his shoulder rubbing up against yours. You kept your eyes locked on his, and before you knew it you muttered out an "okay". Tyson leaned back into his seat, pleased with himself and your choice.

"Thank you, Tyson. It means a lot." You look up at him and give him a big smile. He gives you one back and motions at your assignment.

"Shall we continue?" You shake your head violently.

"God no I'm going to sleep screw the assignment." He chuckles as you pull your sweatshirt hood over your head and curl into a ball on the seat. You weren't very tall, but it was still slightly uncomfortable because you didn't want to put your feet against his legs.

"You can go ahead and relax your legs. I don't mind you pushing me a little." You crack open one eye and see he is watching you with a smile planted on his face. You relax your legs and internally cringe as you feel them hit his thighs.

"See? It's fine. Go to sleep, (Y/N)." He says gently. You close your eyes and smile, knowing that Tyson Jost, your celebrity crush, and favorite player wanted to make you feel special on your birthday.

#tyson jost #colorado avalanche #hockey imagines #hockey #nhl #imagine #I'm new to this #sorry if I mess this up #again

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whatarubberchicken · 6 years

Text

Adrinette April -3- Fencing

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

(There’s a nod to the other meaning of the prompt in here, if you care to find it!)

Chapter 3 – Fencing

This. Was. Torture.

Adrien tried to stop fidgeting. He did. But every time he got the least bit distracted from holding himself down, his knee would start bouncing again. He was currently clenching and unclenching his fist slowly, trying to focus on it instead of what was happening downstairs.

You’d think with years of modeling under his belt, he could freaking SIT STILL!!

He took a calming breath and counted down from ten.

Nathalie and the Gorilla were here, asking Marinette questions about whether or not she’d seen him lately. Apparently, his father was too proud to go to the police. Or he was afraid they’d search the mansion first… Adrien snorted. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.

He hoped they didn’t question Marinette too harshly. He was sure she’d stick to “nope, I haven’t seen him since the last time he was at school” for her story, but… as Alya had once said, she didn’t have a very good poker face.

Please don’t let her give me away, he silently pleaded. Please, please don’t let her give me away!!

The bolt of fabric hiding him suddenly lifted away.

“Hey—”

Adrien yelped.

(It was a very manly yelp, he would insist later. And Marinette would, of course, agree. But again, her poker face….)

Marinette giggled. “It’s just me, scaredy-cat,” she teased. “Your father’s evil henchmen have left. I think they bought it. But geez, you’d think I was dealing in stolen goods with all the questions they had! I even let them look at my messages to prove you hadn’t tried to contact me. It’s not my fault I didn’t know you didn’t have your phone on you,” she added innocently.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said fervently.

She waved it away as nothing.

“Nathalie said she and your bodyguard were going to try the Kubdels next,” she said. “So, we should be okay for a while.”

Adrien smiled. That meant it might be safe for him to go outside! Because, while he was grateful to Marinette and her room for shelter, it just wasn’t the open space he was used to.

“Will you be all right here for a bit?” Marinette was asking him before he realized it. “Alya’s organizing a search party for you, and it’ll look suspicious if I don’t go join them for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll pretend I’m ‘sick at the thought of something happening to you’ or something,” she added with a wink.

His stomach dropped a bit at the thought of her leaving again. Her being gone for school was bad enough. Right now, Marinette was his only contact to the outside world. Adrien gave her a pouty face.

Marinette laughed. “Sorry, but I’ve grown immune to puppy-dog eyes, Adrien,” she teased, tweaking him on the nose. The playful contact startled him, and he smiled at her.

“Fiiiiiine,” he said, flopping in his chair and imitating Plagg’s best exasperated drawl. “But you’d better have some good snacks for us when you get back!”

“Deal,” Marinette said, already heading down the stairs.

Alone again.

Adrien gave one last pouty sigh, and then rolled the chair over to Marinette’s computer. Might as well pass the time by checking his email. He hadn’t done it in a while.

Messages from his father, demanding he come home. Deleted.

Messages from Natalie, pleading with him to come home. Deleted.

Messages from his Chinese tutor, telling him to keep up with his homework, even while he was away. Deleted, with a few spoken words in Chinese that he wasn’t supposed to know.

Messages from his friends, asking if he was okay. He’d answer those later.

An automatic notice from his calendar, reminding him that his fencing class was going to be learning a new move today—AWWWW!!! He’d been waiting all month for that!! It had looked so cool in the video M. D’Argencourt had showed them too!!

Adrien grumbled and sank into his chair. He was so tired of being inside all the time!! He felt trapped. Claustrophobic. Surely there was some way for him to—

Wait. Maybe he could make this work.

Fencing!

As long as he kept his mask on, nobody had to realize it was him! He’d just stick to the back of the class and not talk! Simple!

“Kid, are you crazy?” Plagg said, as soon as they got up to the balcony.

“I’m getting there, doing nothing all day,” Adrien said as he eyed the distance between the two buildings, looking for the best place to land.

“So, go for a run as Chat! Don’t you need to call Ladybug again any—”

“Claws out!” Adrien called firmly, ending the conversation. “I’ll call her later,” he promised the kwami currently trapped in his ring. Right now, his mental health was more important.

He bounded over to the school, sucking in the fresh air delightedly. Fortunately, akumas didn’t really have a time schedule, so he’d taken to storing extra fencing gear in lockers and spare spaces around the school, in case he had to make a quick change someday.

Well, today was that day, he thought to himself as he cheerfully released his transformation and changed. He plopped the mask on his head and presented himself to Plagg, who looked considerably less than impressed.

“Oh, come on,” Adrien said. “This’ll work! I just have to be quiet and subtle.”

“Yeah, because you’re so subtle…,” Plagg drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, just wait for me in the locker.”

“I’ll just be eating my cheese…, waiting for disaster….”

Adrien slammed the locker shut on his unhelpful kwami.

He strolled into the fencing lesson nonchalantly, whistling. Whistling was the ultimate sign of innocence, right? Nobody would suspect him of anything if he was whistling innocently—

“Hey, Adrien!” one of his teammates greeted him easily. “You missed class today. Isn’t your nanny gonna go ballistic?”

“Wha—uh, I’m not Adrien!” he protested, coughing and trying to make his voice lower than it actually was. His teammate laughed.

“Yeah… Okay, man. Whatever you say.”

Adrien gaped. How had his brilliant plan failed already?? He was wearing a mask!!

“Adrien!” a sharp voice off to the side made him jump and then cringe. He looked over to see Nathalie striding towards him, looking supremely unhappy.

Crap. The Gorilla wasn’t with her. The Gorilla was always with her! He’d been Chat Noir long enough to recognize a pincer move. He quickly looked around. Probably the side door. He might be able to make it out of here if he ran for it… but the big guy could move pretty quickly when he wanted to. Sooo....

Instead, Adrien raised his sabre in a salute and fell into a ready stance. Nathalie stopped short, blinking at him. Then she smirked.

“If I win, you return home with no fuss?” she offered.

“And if I win, you tell my father you couldn’t find me,” Adrien said.

She nodded in agreement and accepted a mask, sabre, and padding from M. D’Argencourt, who was always eager to see a duel of honor unfold. Now, the man was nearly bouncing. As she got ready, Adrien felt himself growing nervous at the easy way she handled herself. Nathalie knew how to fence?

“En garde,” D’Argencourt called. “Prêts? Allez!”

Crap, Nathalie knew how to fence!!

Within moments, Adrien felt himself being pushed back by a flurry of attacks that had him scrambling to keep up. He barely dodged a particularly good thrust towards his ribs. He attempted a riposte, but was stunned to see her dance away from him, her movements fluid and effortless.

Damn. Why had his father never let him practice with her??

He was gonna lose…

She had him backing up again, nearly to the stairs to get away from her relentless attacks. Then—THERE!—he saw an opening and dove for it, hitting her neatly below the heart.

YES!! He’d won!! The fight was his!! M. D’Argencourt and his teammates were cheering on the sidelines—

The Gorilla grabbed him from behind.

End Chapter 3.

#adrinetteapril2018 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #nathalie sancoeur #fencing #sorry there's not much adrinette interaction in this one but we need to move the plot forward too

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feverhalo · 6 years

Text

So. Heres this old fic from uhhhhhhhhhhhhh I really don’t remember how long ago. Originally I had it split into 3 parts on the posts that inspired it- and it was my first attempt at writing anything along the lines of stuffing, but it kind of ended up more like he was already coming down with something. It was on my first attempt at a fic blog- way back when and it got deleted because I didnt know how sideblogs worked back then and goofed. Thought I lost everything, then I found an old disc with a whole whack of it on there.

At the moment I can only find 2 of the 3 posts of the art that inspired it here and here. I’ll link the missing post as soon as I find it.

so um, warnings for vomit, cussing, and over-eating-ish and mentions of drinking. and I also am not editing it because im super lazy so its in the same glory as it was when i posted it years ago (2012 apparently)

2,864 words, apparently.

“Come on people! When I say I want you all mobilized in fifteen I don’t mean in half a damn hour. I mean twenty minutes ago.” Fury fumed over the intercom from his station on scene. His voice bounced off the inside of the transport van and rung through each individual earpiece. “Rise and shine, ‘cause we are in a fucking war against some baddies if you haven’t all noticed. You are my agents and I am expecting you to do your damn jobs at my order.”

“Load of fucking shit,” the sniper agent to Clint’s left mumbled, “two a.m. wakeup call is horseshit. I just finished a mission and got back at ten last night.”

“Yeah, welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D brother, what did you think this was? Day camp?” Clint double checked his packet was still together. He’d read it once they got to their positions, it was too dark inside the van. He shook his head a bit when the other agent went back to fuming. Running on low sleep was nothing, sure the headaches and fuzziness were a pain in the ass sometimes but it’s not hard to get used to. You have to get used to it in this job. Same with messed up schedules on basically everything. They would get an hour tops to set up and get ready for a long haul on their stations.

What he managed to make sense of before climbing in the back of the vehicle through his sleep-fogged mind was that they needed to be ready for anything by three thirty, three forty five at the latest with the other crew up ahead of them set up. He rubbed his face trying to wake up more, must be all the time he’s spent on normal schedule lately, it was causing a real issue. He wasn’t looking forward to the no doubt shitty and militant type food they were all going to have for breakfast within the next hour either. He was getting soft on the new routine of near-normal sleep and actual tasteful food instead of vacuum packed crap made for boosting endurance.

He leaned back to try and get into the mindset for the day. It was going to be a very very long one. Someone mentioned they might be stuck out there until seven that night. By then they’d have relief agents come in to give them a break, but as Hawkeye, well he was probably expected to stay around. Most teams wouldn’t shelf their best shooter if they could help it. He’d probably get a nap in at some stationed area. Though the accidental nap he got on the way there wasn’t something he completely cursed even though he didn’t like the fact of it.

“Alright, come on move out you all got a lot to go over and not much time.” The voice crackling into his ear is what startled him awake, and the hatch of the van swinging open definitely helped make that happen faster. Keeping near silent, everyone filed out and headed into the building while Agent Hill took control of their transport and directed it to their station a little ways away hidden in a different building.

Everyone was handed a pack; filled with the shitty food and bottles of water for their posts, their weapons if they hadn’t brought any and extra ammo and pieces if they did, additional intel for their briefing packages according to pay grade, and some quick hushed instruction to where they were all to be.

Clint took his without a word and made his way to his post. Abandoned, or purposefully emptied, industrial building and the usual sort of interior. Too much moving about would give away his position on the metal catwalk. He had a few windows to observe through and a railing to his back. He dropped his pack as lightly and quietly as he could and set himself facing the railing to observe everyone being dispatched while he read over his briefing package.

Exact sort of thing he expected since they woke him up. Nothing too big, but big enough to require a lot of force if anything went bad. He was given another radio code with instructions to call the other Avengers if things turned too ugly. And it was going to be a long-ass day. No break in sight until afternoon if they were lucky. He ripped open the first package of… well. He opened the first nutritional packet and set to work on it mindlessly while he kept reading and rereading. This was coded, but memorizing it and burning it was always his procedure.

By the fourth read through he was nearly done the second pack. Best to eat as much as he could, as much as he hated it and was off-put by eating at such a strange time after the Avengers got together. Professional agent Clint Barton, code name Hawkeye, sharpest shooter as they came- but totally useless without a sugar rush to start him at this time of night, and hell to deal with if he crashes afterward. Carbs, protein, sugar. The three biggest and most annoying things to eat right now, low on time and rushing to compensate for his mental sluggishness at this hour.

He startled himself with a small belch and nearly dropped everything. He did a quick scan and everything seemed normal. Confused for a second longer as to the origin of the sound, he came to the realization when he hiccupped. Ah. Right. He was eating, and apparently at the speed he was reading if the blooming discomfort in his slightly distended abdomen was anything to go by. He took a swig of the only soda from his pack, no doubt put there as a favor from a very sneaky woman. He let it fizz up in his mouth before swallowing it.

New diet. That’s another thing he reminded himself to update S.H.I.E.L.D on before the next mission. He downed some more soda and let the carbonation work its way back out in a few more small burps. It was definitely a good feeling. He just had to work the rest of the air out before the mission started. No big deal.

“Relax Barton,” He shifted in his new ‘nest’, “nothing you haven’t had to do before. Good to know I can still get mission jitters, heh. Maybe this’ll be fun.” He wanted it to be. He definitely wasn’t expecting this call when he decided to turn in early last night. He tried to tell himself the slight trembling feeling, not that he’d let his hands shake at all if it could be helped, was from nerves. Big man in the world now, sure, but unexpected missions always had excitement to them. Sometimes it left you a little shaken in the best ways. Not that he was sure how good this sort of shaken felt yet, all he could say for certain was that it was strange.

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened out before packing away the left overs and digging out a lighter to burn the paper with. The wind howled a little outside, bringing to his mind the chill of the night.

An hour later had him leaning lazily at a windowsill; nothing happened yet that needed his attention or intervention. He kept flitting his eyes about in a restless sort of way, glancing about but never focusing too long and trying to keep that trembling, tingling feeling filling him up at bay. He thought back to the night before, and about being so tired.

“See anything?” Another agent’s voice crackled through his earpiece. He pressed down on his microphone button to reply.

“Not a damn thing,” he drawled, “Anything from your sights?”

“Nothing yet,”

He let up off the mic and sighed. He felt his body buzz again in a wave under his skin and couldn’t help but shake his shoulders trying to get it out. Part of his mind nagged at him with a reminder of feeling distinctly unwell last night.

Drinking. Stark roped us all into it. Thinks just because he has a miracle liver means we all do.

Though it was harder to remind himself of that when he had to shake his shoulders and head again to fight off a wave of fuzziness.

It wasn’t for another forty-five minutes, and three updates from Fury himself, until Barton had something to hold his attention. He was crouched low at his post and grabbed at the shirt over his stomach as another wave of pain and sudden nausea shot through him. Sure he’d started idly rubbing his stomach a little earlier; he was getting butterflies was all. Usually something happened by now when they got this many people out that fast. He was getting more nervous the entire time, who didn’t when it came to performance issues? He was still having trouble focusing on the vast nothingness happening today by the time the butterflies started. But now this was throwing him off.

“Any news yet? Getting real bored up here,” he clicked the mic off after and waited.

“Nothing. Should be another hour at most. Getting antsy there, a little flighty? Ha.”

“Ha. Leave the jokes to someone who can handle them, Keith.” He turned down the radio and double checked the microphone was off when he curled up tighter into himself and put his head against the sill as another wave of discomfort washed over him.

Eventually, he had to get back up and in proper position. He felt a bit better after some time elapsed and figured as long as he didn’t over do anything and stayed relatively well hydrated he’d be good enough. He turned the radio back up and opened his water bottle as he slid back into the favored hiding position he found where he could stand full height without being seen. Another hour tops and he’d have something in his sights…

Hawkeye swallowed hard and backed away from his post. This was getting a little ridiculous. He stepped back until the guard rail pressed into his back. He hazarded a quick glimpse over before having to go back to staring at part of the wall to calm his roiling stomach, but his eyes didn’t miss a thing. All S.H.I.E.L.D’s other snipers were still focused at their stations. No other agents or personnel were in the area. He figured it was safe enough to sit down for a little and wait this out. Again.

He dropped slowly and cautiously, trying not to upset anything further, and dropped his legs over the side. He pressed his forehead to the cool metal of the guard rail and tried to focus on breathing evenly. At least if it all went to hell, it would go right the hell off his platform. Damn, even some personal snark wasn’t helping anything.

He shut his eyes tight and willed himself not to moan out-loud. Getting seen and getting heard were two ways to royally fuck up in this job, and now were also two ways to grab unwanted attention and ridicule over his gastric distress. His snaked one arm around the bar running at chest level and pulled his head down to lean heavily on it, holding it for dear life if his whitened knuckles were anything to go by. Clint’s other hand rested lightly on his stomach, too nervous to even try and ease the nausea by rubbing or curling up this time. By how ragged his breathing sounded, even trying to call in now wouldn’t work. His jaw felt glued together anyway, he really didn’t trust opening his damn trap for anything. Static fizzled over his earpiece and some other agents gave short updates.

After a few minutes with no relief Clint resigned that he might just actually lose it here. He shoved the microphone back and double checked it was switched off. Still on the right channel so just in case they did need him it was easy to radio back, he couldn’t back out but like hell he could get up right now. His stomach lurched and gurgled, leaving him coughing a little into his hand to stifle the sound and hopefully to help keep everything down. He felt a rush of stifling heat and sweat beaded on his neck.

Did he mention this was going to be a long-ass night?

“Got someone moving.” Clint perked up as best he could in this situation. Not the best idea, he shuddered and folded forward a bit more. He groped blindly for the water bottle he had been taking sips from to help quell the nausea with until now. He popped it open with his teeth and waited for someone else to give up more information. Nobody would realize he wasn’t looking right now, they’d all be too busy searching their own areas and figuring he was either doing the same or trained on the target already.

“Can’t see them.” Clint groaned aloud, unable to help it. He took another sip from the bottle, but just ended up spitting it out.

“I swear I will never say anything bad about anyone ever again…” he started mumbling to himself disjointedly. Promising things to any deity he ever heard of, cursing them all out.

“It’s the Director. No worries, everyone,” Agent Hill came over the comms. “He and I are double checking parts of the perimeter. The targets shouldn’t be this far back at all.”

“Fuck. Fuck everything and the damn horse it rode in on,” he swallowed hard and tried to ignore the burning at the back of his throat.

“Confirmed. It is Director Fury and Agent Hill.”

Radio silence returned for another stretch of time. Felt like almost another hour. Clint spat down on to the floor below again. Finally giving in to the urge to wrap his arm tightly around his middle, he rocked himself slightly to see if it helped. It did for a small moment. He let out a shaky sigh and glanced back over at the windows where the sun was now creeping up through the clouds of dirt and grime on the glass. He considered moving back a bit and laying down before radioing in his distress, but not before he was sure it was something he could handle. After a few more intense seconds he decided that was the best plan of action.

After about four more seconds his stomach decided that was a stupid idea and he needed to keep his ass very still right the hell where it was. And less than a second after that, Barton was parting with a good portion of his stomach’s contents. There was no elegant or quiet and stealthy way to cover that. He retched. He shut his eyes and shook a little harder after the fact. Resting his head, defeated, on the railing again, he Clint tried to work up the strength and his voice well enough to call it in if someone wasn’t already beating him to it.

“Damnit Barton,” Fury’s voice vaulted up to where Hawkeye was slumped, “What the hell?!”

Clint opened his eyes slowly, he shook a little more in some vague form of terror that filtered through his sickened mind. He scooted back a bit, ignoring the wet dripping of his own vomit onto the floor below. He pulled the mic piece down and flicked it on.

“Sorry sir, Agent Hawkeye reporting,” his voice shook, wavered and cracked a little, but still carried over the radio and down from his nest, “I think I’m a little under the weather.”

“Well no fucking shit.” Agent Hill had retreated a number of steps from Fury and the mess surrounding him. She pulled her clipboard up and started flipping through pages while putting out a radio call for a med truck and a replacement. If he had felt any better, Clint would have laughed at the absurd sight, but unfortunately he was back to fighting to keep down what was left in his stomach. “If you’re gonna do that again I’d like some damn warning.”

All Hawkeye could manage for warning was a quick ‘move-aside’ hand motion before leaning through the gap in the rail again and vomiting once more. By now everyone in the building knew what was going on and were switching radio channels and trying to ignore the sounds of Clint losing it all over the cemented floor.

After a third bout of being sick, Clint was left dry-heaving and limp against the fever-warmed metal. Too shaky to even hold the water bottle that hadn’t left his side today, leaving it to fall below him too when he tried to grab it. Within minutes two medical technicians were helping him down from his nest. He felt so shaky and wrung out he didn’t even attempt to fight them over being taken out on a stretcher. He just laid on his side and curled in on himself as they pushed him past Hill and Fury, who was still cleaning himself up.

“Next time spare us the damn show and call it in before the firework finale, alright?”

“Got it.”

#sick clint barton #vomit tw #avengers sickfic #lmk what other tags yall want or need on this #this'll be a tumblr only fic tho i might revisit it and rewrite it for ao3 #so its a super fun surprise for you guys #also a throwback

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masterskywalkers · 7 years

Text

Complications of Lying

Relationships: Male Ryder / Reyes Vidal & Male Ryder / Vetra Nyx Summary: Vax Ryder has conflicting feelings after learning of the Charlatan's true identity. Luckily, a good friend finds him to provide some comforting words.

[AO3 link here] Deleted

Subject: I'm supposed to be good with words ...

To: Vax Ryder

From: Reyes Vidal

I meant what I said. I'll watch over and protect the new Outpost when you're not around. I think, what with the changes planned for Kadara's future, having the Outpost close by will be good for us all. One can hope so, at least.

As for ... well; us ...

For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hide the truth from you, or disappoint you. If it means anything, for a while there you made me feel like I was someone. Guess I ruined whatever chance we had.

I can't change the past though, huh? No matter what happens, I will always remain your friend.

- Reyes.

Vax lays stretched out upon his bed, arm draped over his forehead to shield his eyes from the light of the room; datapad left by his side, forgotten. He couldn't possibly focus on writing a report for Tann and Addison now, not after reading through his emails and finding Reyes' message.

Hurt and betrayal still linger within him. Despite how glad he is that the two of them were still on - somewhat tentatively - friendly terms, Vax finds himself mourning what could have been. What nearly had been. What likely would have been had he not followed Sloane to discover who it was that hid behind the Charlatan's mask.

God, just his mind playing the memory of the reveal over set his stomach lurching uncomfortably.

"Ryder? Can I come in?"

At the sound of a voice from behind his door Vax pushes himself to sit up, running a hand quickly through the white strands of his hair, attempting to make himself look more presentable yet failing miserably. He clears his throat before answering.

"Doors not locked Vetra."

He hears the sliding sound of the doors as they open, the sound of Vetra entering the room following not long after. When Vax looks up to share a strained smile her way he notices the box Vetra holds in one hand, gesturing towards his pet hamster as the doors slide closed behind her.

"Managed to find that cereal you wanted for Hammy while we were at Kadara port. Hopefully Liam will stop complaining that he's eating all of his supplies now."

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you."

Vetra sets the cereal box down beside the hamsters tank, afterwards turning towards where Vax sits. Goosebumps tingle Vax's skin as she watches him, assesses him. He turns away to instead look down at where his hands are clasped in his lap, hearing the sound of Vetra letting out a sigh.

"You're still upset about what happened with Reyes," She says. The bed dips slightly as Vetra sits herself beside Vax. "Aren't you?"

If there's anything he's learnt whilst becoming the Pathfinder and commanding those who join him onboard the Tempest, it's that Vax can't hide anything from his newly found friends. Least of all Vetra. She somehow always manages to pick up on whenever he feels stressed or saddened. Like how he feels now.

"Yeah, I am," Vax confesses. Quickly after speaking he shakes his head, sighing. "I ... really liked him, you know? More than a 'what if we just fool around' sort of way. I thought we'd be good together. Until he lied."

He senses Vetra's presence beside him, the light humming sound which escapes her mouth as she tilts her head slightly and appears to think for a moment.

"I've worked with many people like him before. Scoundrels, hiding behind masks and lies that even they begin to forget who they were before. I had a feeling Vidal was that way from the beginning. But if it means anything ... I do think that one of the few things he was consistently honest about were his feelings towards you."

"Great. Now I feel even more conflicted about whether or not I did the right thing. I didn't even know that was possible."

Vax breathes in deeply, brow furrowing as he continued to let his thoughts rush around his mind. "I think I did though, at the moment at least. As upset as I am, a part of me keeps pointing out how I wouldn't have been able to be with him if it meant I would be waiting and worrying about what lie would come next."

"And in his line of work, it's almost a guarantee. Even if he didn't want to lie, none of us know what bullshit we'll run into in the future. Reyes' life has only grown more dangerous, and already it sounds like he's having to build secrets to hide other secrets with. It can get messy pretty quickly, and if you're not even the slightest bit comfortable with a relationship like that..."

Vetra's words are left adrift between them. Vax looks towards her, and from the expression he notices upon her face he knows there's likely a story there.

"You're speaking from past personal experiences again, aren't you?"

Vetra leans back on the bed, reaching her arms out behind her to support her weight.

"There were reasons why I wanted to leave the Milky Way behind me, after all."

Something in her words causes Vax to crack a small smile, one that doesn't quite stretch as fully as it usually would. It's the first sign of a natural smile since his return to the Tempest however, so he takes it as a sign of some progress in his improvement in mood. A thought soon comes to the forefront of his mind however, causing the smile to lessen slightly.

"It's at times like this where I really wish my sister was awake," Vax says sadly. He drops his gaze back down to his hands again, the familiar ache of missing his twin twisting within him. "Although knowing her, she likely would have pulled me away by the ear the moment Reyes first turned up with a twenty minute lecture prepared about being too trusting towards shady looking strangers."

Beside him Vetra laughs to herself.

"Sounds similar to me and Sid. I've lost count of how many times I've had to lecture her. Never about outlaw smugglers who later become the equivalent of a king, mind you. That part is completely unique to you."

"I never did like making things boring."

Despite his joke, Vax's mind remains preoccupied with his sister. Rather easily he can imagine what her reaction would be if she were here now. She'd likely be annoyed, given how Vax knows she would have warned against Reyes many a times before what had unravelled in the cave - she always had been the more level headed one out of them both, after all. Yet she'd still be supportive, knowing that Vax was hurting and trying to hide away such emotions from the rest of the crew. If they were back at home she would have made them both his favourite drink, before curling up next to him under blankets. They'd talk; at first about anything that came to mind until finally, Vax would speak up, to which his sister would listen and offer words of kindness and advice. Depending on how stupid he'd been she might give a light hit around the head, a long standing joke between them at her trying to knock some sense into him.

It's strange for Vax to think that right now, they're so far apart. A cold sense of loneliness starts to creep it's way over him ...

... But halts, as Vetra rests one of her large, alien hands upon his knee for comfort. It pulls him out of his contemplations.

"This'll pass, Ryder," She says, mandibles slightly twitching with each word. Her hand feels like a lifeline, strange but leaving a warmth from the touch. "If you need to avoid Kadara for a while to sort out how you feel after everything, than do it. It's not like we don't have enough to keep ourselves occupied with after all. And ... although he may not have been entirely honest with you ... from the little I know of the guy Reyes seems the type to understand a need for space."

"Space as in distance or space as in literal, actual space..."

"Very funny," Vetra replies, lightly hitting Vax's leg at the poor attempt of a joke before removing her hand entirely. "If you can make puns that bad I must be helping to make you feel less miserable. Somehow."

"You have helped," Vax answers seriously. Because she has.

Vetra is not his sister - this Vax knows well - but she is still his friend. A dear one, at that. And Vax begins to realise that because of Vetra he does feel a little more like himself. Perhaps Vetra has even managed to help in a way which his sister wouldn't have been able to, given how she could see from both his and Reyes' side of things. For once upon a time she had known a world like the one Reyes now must try and tame.

"Thanks Vetra."

"Anytime," Says Vetra, rising to leave. She pauses as she reaches the door, and Vax looks up in time to catch her turning to look in his direction once more. "Next time you feel like shit, come and see one of us rather than just hiding out here in your room, alright? As you always say, this crew's a family. We're here for you as much as you're here for us after all."

Vax lets out a sound akin to a snort, shaking his head.

"If that's what it'll take to make you all worry less."

Vetra gives a simple, half shrug, moving to leave the room again.

"It's a start at least."

#reyes vidal #vetra nyx #male ryder #ryder/vetra #ryder/reyes #vax is so confusing to write #but he keeps giving me all the ideas right now and u g h #i need to get used to writing these three anyway

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necromancindancin · 7 years

Text

Blood Work

This short work features a protagonist that I’ve been working on for a while! Her name is Ace and, well, I’d rather not give too much away about her just yet. Just know that she is well developed beyond this story and I have other things planned for her. I’m quite fond you could say. This is a story about Marcos, who has been having a bit of a ghost problem. After a series of disappointing visits from people responding to his craigslist ad, he’s become a bit skeptical that this is ever going to be resolved. This story isn’t perfect and I think way later in the future I want to tweak it but for now it’s finished and I’m very happy to present it here.

Word count: 4190

When Marcos heard a knock at the door, a feeling in his stomach told him not to answer it. This feeling was quickly proven correct when the person on the other side of the door was revealed. She was smaller in stature, her varsity-style jacket looking at least one size too big. Above the green eyes was a right brow piercing and spiked up, dark pink hair. The woman pushed up her glasses and gave a tiny smile.

She looked like a Hot Topic reject.

“You’re Marcos Jackson, right?” She asked, reading off a card in her hand.

He was feeling way too awful and too tired for this bullshit. As if on cue, a cough rose from his chest. The woman looked unfazed and he noticed the tattoos on her fingers and hands, assortments of stripe and dot patterns.

“Yes?” He answered hesitantly.

“Hi. I’m here to solve your ghost problem.”

Of course. Of course she was. At this point, Marcos was just pinching the bridge of his nose hoping this was a sickness induced hallucination.

“Fff- I mean uh, I deleted that listing. No need for you to come inside.”

Internally he begged her to just go away. No more weird people in his house.

The woman strode in anyways, “I’m not here because of the listing. Although seriously, who asks for a house cleansing on Craigslist?”

“I was desperate- Th-that’s not the point! If that’s not it, why’re you here?”

The card was already away in her jacket and replaced with a notepad. All he could do was follow her around the house as she took notes. Something about her seemed focused, yet relaxed, as if she had done this dozens of times before. Marcos grabbed a tissue out of a nearby box to wipe his nose. He kept them around all over these days.

She turned to face him, “Your neighbor knows a friend of mine and they’re sick of hearing you shriek at three a.m. So here I am.”

“I’ll send them brownies or something. Listen whoever-you-are-”

“Ace.”

He laughed in frustration, “Of course that’s your name. Look. I’m done with crazy people coming in my house and wrecking my things and not doing anything to actually get rid of my problem. None of you know what you’re talking about so please just leave.”

A moment of silence passed before the question, “So how long have you been sick? If I’m correct, it started shortly after the electrical disturbances and things being moved around, right?”

“How did you know-”

“It’s my job to know. Plus, you neighbors sent me a link to your listing. Thanks to you writing your history out, we can skip the expositional ‘when did this all begin’ stuff. Could you answer my question?”

When he actually mulled over a possible answer… It sounded eerily correct.

“I mean. I guess? I… never really thought of it,” He mumbled.

How had he not? It was downright weird how obvious it was now. Another bad feeling hit his stomach. That or it was the nausea again. Ace motioned for him to follow her again as she headed toward the kitchen. In just moments, she had convinced him that maybe she actually knew what this was. At least, he hoped.

The layout of the kitchen was simple. A square block just next to the living room, there was only one entrance. On either side against the walls were countertops that matched the cheap linoleum flooring. In the middle of the floor was his kitchen table.

She gave a reassuring smile, “Can’t blame you. When stuff starts levitating and moving around on it’s own, people generally panic and don’t put specific details together. If I’m right, you’ve got a parasite. Come on, help me move this stuff.”

The woman pointed to the table that was covered with assorted paperwork, used tissue, and even a plate from this morning. He had felt so hazy earlier, he had completely forgotten to clean it up. It was embarrassing for a guest (even an uninvited one) to see his house in such a mess. Instinctively wanted to apologize, say it normally didn’t look like this. Yet she didn’t seem to mind.

“...Like a tapeworm?”

He dragged the trashcan next to them, scooping up any garbage swiftly. While normally he’d ask why they were doing this, he got the feeling it would be faster to just listen at this point. The young woman ran a bit of hot water for the dish.

“You’re not too far off, actually.” Ace praised, “A parasite in my line of work is usually some kind of malevolent spirit that feeds off the energy of whoever is nearby. Unfortunately for you and whoever lived here before you, this one spawned in a house so... constant food source. These things feed until you’ve got nothing left.”

“Jesus. No wonder I feel like shit.” He said, pulling his robe tighter around himself.

And no wonder the last tenant had been a thirty year old who died in her sleep. The thought that he wasn’t much older and in the same position chilled him to the bone. It’s something you tell yourself will never happen to you, until it does. Not really the ghost part as much as the dying young part. But that left another question- How long had this thing been here? As the table was completely cleared, Ace pulled out a vial of red liquid from her jacket.

“Um. What’s that?” He asked as she popped open the cork.

She winced, “Promise you won’t freak out?”

“Well now I’m definitely going to freak out.”

“In that case, it’s blood,” The woman said with a shrug. One of her fingers traced across the top of the open vial.

“...Are you shitting me right now?”

While this was not worse than the man with the fake vampire teeth who wore a pentagram on his neck, it was up there. Why the fuck would anyone…? Oh god, oh my god, he thought as she dipped her finger in the liquid. She began to draw something, patterns and shapes, into the top of the table. This was why she needed it cleared off, he realized. He froze in place.

Her eyebrows raised in sheepish amusement, “I would have mentioned it earlier but the immediate introduction of ‘Hi, I’m Ace and I’m a blood mage who hunts ghosts and other supernatural creatures oh and did I mention I’m a blood mage’ usually doesn’t give me a great start.”

His voice strangled out of his mouth, “You have vials of it? W-where do you even get it from?”

“It’s mine.”

“Wait, what?”

“Seriously. I donate to myself every couple of months or I get donations from friends in the business. Mostly it’s all my own, though. I don’t need a lot all at once.”

The instant relief was almost concerning. It was still blood but… if it wasn’t hers, it’s not like anyone was getting hurt, right? The man tried not looking at it. Thinking that used to be inside a person made him light-headed. At least the trash can was right next to him. He wanted to be polite.

He made a face, “I guess… that’s… weird but fine? Next time you need to ask, that’s so unsanitary.”

“Just slap on some antibacterial afterwards and you’re fine,” Ace laughed as she finished the drawing.

Marcos looked at the strange symbol he didn’t recognize, “So… is this going to get rid of it?”

“Not exactly. I need to find out what I’m dealing with. This’ll make it appear, show it’s real face.” Suddenly her tone became serious, almost quiet.

He backed away from the table, “Wait… you’re summoning that thing on my table? You said it was angry, right?”

“I said malevolent but yeah, it’s probably pretty pissy,” Ace stated matter-of-factly.

“That is a terrible idea! What if it attacks us?”

Ace mumbled a quick “right!” as if suddenly remembering something she’d forgotten. With no words, she turned to Marcos and pulled up the right sleeve of his robe. Unable to quite process exactly what was going on, he let her do it despite the instinct to pull away. She pulled out the blood vial again, dipping into it with her fingers. Up close, he could see the vial was actually a thick plastic, which kind of made sense in a way-

He gagged as Ace drew another pattern along the tender skin on the bottom side of his arm. Even though logically there probably wasn’t much of a scent, all he could think about was how gross it smelled. The grip she had on his wrist while she drew was surprising. She wasn’t exactly large in any sense of the word, yet she was strong.

“Sorry, I know this is probably the grossest thing that’s happened to you this week.”

“Possibly my whole life. I said ask next time!” Marcos tried not to sob. It was thick and threatened to roll down his arms in droplets. At least it was room temperature. For some reason he imagined it would have felt cold.

Ace explained softly, “Sorry again. This will make sure no matter what happens, that spirit can’t touch you. You need to be safe while I do this.”

“O-oh. That’s… nice.” He mumbled, “Thanks…?”

He glanced down at his arm even though his stomach rolled. It was different from the one on the table, simpler. The more he looked at it, the warmer it began to feel. Blood magic? Ghosts? Before he moved here, he would have never believed in any of this. Now it was just more weirdness to add to the pile.

Ace sighed, “Alright, let’s get this finished so you can wash that off.”

Under her breathe, the woman began to whisper words under her breathe. The few snippets Marcos could catch sounded like latin and… some other language he didn’t recognize. The tattoos around her fingers began to glow in red, snaking up into the sleeves of her jacket. The symbol on the table pulsed as she reached forward and grazed her finger across the design.

Something the same color as the blood began to form from the symbol. It dripped and moaned as it got taller, bigger. It’s head practically reached the ceiling as the “covering” of blood melted away, revealing the monster underneath. She, or at least what Marcos thought was a she, was disfigured.

The skin on her arms became scaly with rock formations and talons that dragged down passed her knees. Her head was not connected to her body, instead floating above a bloody stump of a neck. Dark hair was matted with blood and mud that covered most of her face. Shreds of clothes hung loosely across her body. Bloodshot eyes stared at Ace. Marcos could feel anger slice into the room.

“Go the fuck away.” It growled. Her voice was raspy and deep, too deep.

Ace crossed her arms, “You know I can’t do that. You’ve hurt a lot of people. It’s time for you to move on.”

“Go the fuck away!” The monster repeated. It stepped forward on the table, quickly seeing the boundary it could not pass.

“I want to help you.” Ace said calmly, “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll do this together and you don’t have to feel this way anymore.”

When she said it, the offer felt genuine. The creature’s face twisted into a grimace and items previously laying flat on the kitchen counter began to float. Ace stood her ground, yet gave a small gesture to Marcos to move. His stomach wriggled with anxiety at what he was seeing. It wasn’t the first time this spirit had levitated something, but this was different somehow.

“I said,” The monster shouted, “Go the FUCK away!”

In an instant there was a flurry of papers, dishes, and anything not bolted down flying through the air. All in the direction of the only living souls in the room. The woman was quick to act, dashing towards the exit as she pulled Marcos with her. Silverware clattered on the floor behind them as they ducked to the side of the kitchen entryway.

Ace sighed, “Ok... so this is a little bit worse than I thought.”

Several appliances and objects continued to soar out of the doorway. The cacophony allowed for a brief moment in which both parties could gather themselves. As Ace began thinking of the next phase of attack, the other went into a frenzied panic.

His voice cracked, “What do you mean worse than you thought?! You said you knew what you were doing! Plus I thought this charm thingy was supposed to protect me!” A sheet pan whizzed past his head and provoked a coughing spell.

“I said so the spirit can’t touch you, not protect you from her throwing shit!” Ace sighed again, “Ugh, I can’t predict everything. I can still handle this but obviously I can’t make her rest. Parasites are always the wild cards. Never know what they want.” The last part was whispered, as if Marcos wasn’t really meant to hear it.

Inside the kitchen, the monster began to roar for release. Taking a brief glance, Marcos could see her pounding her claws against the invisible barrier. All the while the blood marks on the table remained undamaged despite the chaos. Seeing what had been taunting him face to face was both terrifying yet a relief.

Seeing her tangibly made him confident this could be solved. Somehow.

“You can’t like… make her rest?” He suggested.

“Not how that works. In real life if a spirit doesn’t want to move on, they won’t. Look, handling spirits is- it’s complicated. Now I have to capture her.”

The man cringed, “Wow, we can’t just... find her bones and burn them or something? Like in the movies?”

“No, because that would destroy her entirely. I need a bottle or something, doesn’t have to be big.”

“And destroying her would be a problem because…?”

The angry screaming in the kitchen had begun to turn into a desperate wail. Ace’s body tensed and she took a deep breath while rubbing her eyes. There were no more items being thrown, but both could hear the creature’s cries.

She calmly explained, “Believe it or not, she was human once. Ghosts, spirits, poltergeists, all of them had something terrible happen to them to make them trapped to the living world. I mean, yeah, I’ve met evil ones too but-”

“That thing killed people and tried to kill me. Excuse me if I’m lacking sympathy,” Marcos rolled his eyes, “Far as I’m concerned, it can rot. I just want it out of my house.”

Ace puffed out her chest and stared up at him, “If I’m right, she was probably murdered or even worse and now she’s stuck in this place scared, angry and confused! You lacking sympathy is why you don’t get to make the choice. Help me find a damn casing or I leave right now.”

“You serious?”

“Those are my conditions. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

Ace leaned back against the wall. For just a moment, Marcos wanted to kick the scrawny twit out of his house just for being this way. That would still leave him with his current problem. It wasn’t even that he was that against capturing the ghost or whatever it was called. Destroying just made more sense. Get it over with if it was going to be easier.

Did you really even deserve rest when all you did after you died was hurt others? Ace seemed way too sympathetic to something that actually killed people. The thing turned down the easy road. Yet… Whatever got it out of his house would do, even if he did feel this way. It wasn’t like him to be so angry, he knew. Ace was probably right that the decision should belong to her for this exact reason. He had no idea what this thing had gone through in life, even if it didn’t excuse the actions now.

“You said a bottle would work?” He mumbled.

Ace nodded, “Yeah, nothing fancy. Just needs to be empty.”

Although Marcos briefly wondered why they couldn’t have gotten one of the many containers out of the kitchen before this all started- The two managed to find a mason jar which, according to the girl wasn’t ideal, but would suit their purposes. Ace immediately took it from his hands, along with another vial from her jacket. How many things of blood did she have in there? Marcos considered it knowledge he was probably better off not knowing.

The mage drew new symbols along the glass edge, whispering sweet words into the lines. The liquid seemed to sizzle into the side as it etched itself permanently to the container. With this third charm, the man noticed how tiring the process looked. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, but the light of the mage’s eyes seemed to dull and fade. Instead of showing it, however, Ace just smiled and turned to him as she finished.

She sighed, “Alright, you ready for round two?”

Grabbing one of the many thrown pans off the floor, Marcos nodded. The young woman just laughed and shook her head while they walked back to the entrance of the kitchen. Glancing at the parasite again, Marcos couldn’t deny that it seemed frightened as well as angry. The roars and banging against the invisible barrier had turned to whimpering cries and scratching- like a trapped animal. It made his stomach turn.

Yet as it- as she, spotted the humans, a snarl climbed up her throat. Wordlessly Ace handed Marcos the jar, blood still dripping from her fingers. Now she was marking the floor next to the exit with a shaky breath. All Marcos could think about was dumping antibacterial across the span of his entire house.

“Wait… Why are you doing that?” He suddenly questioned.

Ace called over her shoulder, “So you really aren’t going to like this. But it’s fine. You’ll be fine.”

“Uh…?”

“Basically I have to break the table seal and she’s gonna have free reign of the kitchen. But she can’t touch you and you’ve got your… pan so you’ll be good!” She said, “Ready?”

Marcos almost dropped the jar in shock, “No! We are not ready! Are you kidding me?! You- You… Ugh. Ok. Ok. Just- Just do it so you can leave and I can take a fucking nap.”

Ace gave a thumbs up, “Alright! I’m just gonna need you to stand there and I’ll say some words when I’m ready and you’ll put the lid on the thing and uh… that’ll be it.”

“That’s it?” Incredulous was an understatement.

Another thumbs up. This was not a real answer. At this point, however, he was just going to take it. His whole body was starting to wear down from all the excitement. It was more surprising than it should have been considering how much he’d been sleeping since he got sick. It was so long since he felt normal, it was almost hard to remember what it was like not being ill.

But it would be soon. The idea of it made Marcos grip onto the jar tighter. A lump formed in his throat as Ace approached the table. The spirit was watching tentatively as if waiting for the next move. She wasn’t even throwing anything- yet. Could spirits get tired? Ace took a deep breath and reached forward, smearing the symbols on the table. She stared the spirit in the face and whispered, “Let’s get this over with.” She winced.

The spirit’s talons swept up and to the side, taking Ace’s body with it. The woman slammed into the nearby counter with a solid thud. Her hands flailed to grab onto something. Marcos was sure he heard a crack of- He didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m… I’m okay! Just keep standing there!” Ace choked out as the creature stepped down from the table. The mage began to silently word something.

The monster again threw its appendages at Ace, who barely managed to duck and roll underneath. What looked like a claw marks had gone through the side of her shirt and across the skin. The spirit’s jaw unhinged as it screeched and slammed its “weapons” on the floor wherever it thought it could reach the young woman. Every time, she would get out of the way by mere inches and Marcos could see the sweat forming on her forehead. In his hands, the jar began to hum and vibrate.

After another slam Ace managed to jump onto one of the rock-covered arms. She jolted up to the shoulder where she used the back of the spirit’s head as a springboard. The rolling landing on her arm looked painful, both humans cringing at the moment of impact. There was a moment of scrambling as she fought to get up and run behind Marcos. The recitation of whatever spell she was using had been non-stop throughout the entirety of the encounter.

Marcos felt her hands clap onto his shoulder as the spirit shook off the kick to the skull. Whisperings of latin ended and her grip tightened.

“Don’t move,” She said.

The man felt his legs quiver and his palms sweat as the angry monster charged forward, pulling back it’s talons. His eyes shut, the claws jutting forward into what he could only guess was his chest area. But there was no pain. The hands on his shoulders moved to his arms, his hands and finally the jar. As his eyes opened again he could see Ace screwing the lid of the mason jar closed.

The glass almost burned against his skin. Inside was a muddy, bloody ink blob that moved about in the free space. Ace gently pulled the jar from his grasp and Marcos touched his chest.

“Is that…?” He asked.

The woman held a hand to the wound on her side, “That’s her. Told you she couldn’t touch you with that charm on. Had to uh… make enough time for the spell to kick in. Oof.”

The kitchen was ruined. Counters were cracked. The floor was destroyed in several places. Many pots and pans lie dented or even broken. This was going to be an absolute pain to fix and clean but- Marcos was free. For the longest time in forever he felt like everything was truly silent. It was probably his imagination, but he could argue that it was like the sickness was lifted. His body felt better with each breath in.

“Are you okay?” He asked Ace.

She smiled through a grimace, “Oh yeah. I think she might have cracked a rib or two but y’know I’ve had way worse.”

“Holy shit, seriously? Should I take you to a hospital?”

“No no, I’m good. You need to sleep all this off. I’ll just be taking this jar and going on my way,” She said as she waved him off.

A strange feeling hit in his stomach now, one that was almost dream-like. This was really happening. Months of levitating items, fear and illness and now it was all going away like it never happened. While he certainly wasn’t going to miss it there was an emptiness that he couldn’t really describe.

“...So, uh, what are you going to do with her if she won’t rest?”

“I hold onto her, talk to her and… maybe, hopefully, someday she changes her mind. I’ve got a place hidden away for souls like this, secure.” Ace answered, before taking on a teasing tone, “Unless you were wanting to keep her around as a buddy?”

Marcos practically leapt from his skin, “No!”

She laughed, “Didn’t think so. It was good meeting you, Marcos. Maybe we’ll meet again someday, in better circumstances.”

She stuck out her hand for him to take. The warm smile on her face was infectious as Marcos gave his hand in return.

“That would be nice, I think. I hope… Ugh. As much pain as she caused I hope she’ll let you help her.”

“I hope so, too,” Ace said, her smile widening.

With that, she stepped out of the door with Marcos watching her until she was out of his line of sight. There was a slight limp to her step, clinging onto the jar tight. The fact that she was even kind of walking away from that throw was inhuman. Just brought up more questions. He knew he was going to keep wondering, even if he didn’t get answers.

He knew of course a better term for that spirit now. Maybe when he had done his research into the history of the house, he hadn’t looked deep enough. If there was something keeping her here, what was it? Something to look into- after he woke from what would likely be a sleep of the dead. The kitchen would have to wait. Before he fell asleep, however, he grabbed his phone to type in one small note: To make sure he sent over brownies to the neighbors.

#belle writes #blood work #Ace #Ace the blood mage #fiction #short story #We're Not Heroes

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fuckingchatnoir · 7 years

Text

Fanboy [Chapter 2]

Summary: After discovering the wonders of Ladynoir fanfiction, Adrien sets out to start his own with his classmate Marinette helping him along the way. But when does fiction start becoming reality?

This story is also beta’d by the wonderful @serendipitousReckonings here on archive, @dickerdoodlez on tumblr.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1 Tumblr post

Adrien’s yawns filled the dark spaces of his room, his eyes stinging from exhaustion with his fingers still typing rapidly. He was frustrated, so frustrated, and constantly found himself ignoring Plagg’s constant complaints about how late it was.

He always hated how his father regarded him as someone impatient and ill-tempered. He always did what he was told with a forced smile – always following along with Chloe’s plans even when he preferred to stay home and play video games; always trying to maintain that image of perfection that his father enforced. So, he was honestly confused and annoyed with his father’s view of him.

However, there he was still sitting in his swivel chair with the seat cushion beginning to feel too warm from lack of movement at two in the morning - on a school night - all because he wanted to prove something to one of his classmates. Perhaps Gabriel wasn’t so far from the truth. It’d been two weeks since he heard Marinette speak her mind, and he still hadn’t let go of her words. He wanted her approval of his story, he wanted her to enjoy it. He’d updated three times since that day, giving his alter ego more moves, dialogue, and anything else he could think of so the blue-eyed girl would give it a second chance. But, no matter what he did, nothing was good enough for her.

He would be alert the morning after he updated in class to hear Marinette’s reaction when Alya would discuss it, but her words were either vague, negative, or frustratingly lacking any interest whatsoever.

He just wanted to know what was wrong, what she would consider to be adequate, and he wasn’t going to give up until he found the answer.

“Adrien, I swear if you don’t go to sleep right now I’m going to eat the chords that let those things live.”

Adrien didn’t look back at the kwami, keeping his eyes locked on his screens. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he skimmed over his previous sentences. He was mindlessly tapping his fingers against his mouse in an impatient rhythm.

“You won’t because if you do you’ll get electrocuted.”

The dialogue between Ladybug and a civilian was beginning to get too wordy. He started deleting a few lines.

“Did you forget that I’m a god and that I’ve been alive for tens of thousands of years? I’ve gone through worse things than a simple jolt, kid. This’ll be nothing.”

Adrien didn’t reply, ignoring his friend to continue fixing his writing.

“I’ll make your suit pink.”

Should Ladybug use Lucky Charm after this or towards the end?

“I’ll make you smell like aged camembert.”

What would Marinette think? Maybe Chat Noir should talk to the civilian with her.

“I swear I’ll do it. Don’t underestimate me!”

Adrien rubbed his tired eyes - felt his eyelids begin to droop more and more. If anyone were to see him in the state he was in at that moment, they probably wouldn’t have recognized him. His eyes were squinted tiredly, trying to stay open to focus on his work. He had strands of hair sticking out everywhere, some falling over his eyes from time to time while others were tickling his ears irritatingly. And his plain white t-shirt was stained with small drops of coffee that he hadn’t noticed yet. He was the image of pure exhaustion and dishevelment.

But what if she thinks I’m trying too hard to include Chat Noir in like last time?

“Kid.”

Am I writing myself too cliché? Is that the issue?

“ADRIEN!”

The teen practically jumped out of his seat - Plagg floated right in front of his face so he could finally look at him.

“Lower your voice, Plagg!” Adrien whispered, scooting himself a bit back to give himself more space between him and the kwami, his hands in the air. “Someone could’ve heard you!”

“Well you weren’t giving me much of a choice! You were off obsessing over your girlfriend again and ignoring me!”

“I told you,” He yawned, his shoulders slumping forward from fatigue after doing so. “I’m not writing this because I’m obsessed with Ladybug. I just want to write something more believable.”

“Not her, pigtails from your class that you won’t shut up about! You need to sleep!”

“Plagg, Marinette’s not my girlfriend and I’m not obsessing over her. And I’m going to bed soon, I just need to finish this chapter up. I’m almost done.”

“You said that three hours ago! And if you weren’t obsessed with her than you wouldn’t still be hung up on what she said to you two weeks ago! And you’d be asleep right now!”

Adrien groaned and rubbed his face up and down with both of his cold hands in frustration.

“I just want her to like the story.”

“Why do you care so much? I thought we agreed that you were doing this for yourself, but now you’re here trying to please this one chick that you hardly even talk to.”

Adrien wanted to be mad at Plagg – he really did since Marinette was his friend and he should be defending their somewhat friendship – but he felt that he wasn’t going to win with the god no matter what he said. Besides, his kwami did have a point. He originally started writing the story for himself, but now all he seemed to care about was whether or not it was good enough for his classmate. He had so many expectations set on him by everyone, and he was now beginning to set some on himself too. His voice was also starting to get groggy and he didn’t like the way it sounded. It was too low for his liking and as of recent he’d been saying things that sounded much more coherent in his head but didn’t make sense when said out loud and it really annoyed him. So, he stayed quiet, only muttering an “okay” before saving his work, shutting off his computers, and going to sleep.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed and he immediately fell into a deep sleep. It was the eighth night in a row that he didn’t dream of anything and he wasn’t sure whether to be concerned about that or not.

______________

Adrien’s arms were crossed over his chest as he walked down the steps of the school alongside Nino. His friend wouldn’t stop staring at him as if he was afraid he was going to break any minute. The blond was about to comment on his behavior until he fell abruptly to the ground, not having noticed that he missed two steps. Luckily his books were in his bag so nothing important got damaged other than his pride.

“Shit!” Nino said before he immediately bent down to help his friend, his hands grabbing onto one of the boy’s thin arms to lift him up.

Adrien just sighed dramatically in response, looking forward to see if the Gorilla saw any of that. However, he noticed that the man had still not shown up yet.

He probably took father to work today.

He heard a small groan coming from his bag – he was going to have to check up on Plagg later.

“Thanks, Nino.” He said in a weak tone once he stood up completely, placing his bag on his shoulder once again.

“Hey, why don’t you let me carry your bag for you today?”

Adrien blinked a few times before he shook his head, rubbing his right eye after that was beginning to burn in the corner.

“I’m fine.”

He was about to continue walking again until he felt Nino’s hand on his shoulder.

“Dude, I’m starting to get worried about you. This isn’t cool.”

“I just tripped. It happens to everybody.”

Nino sighed and if Adrien wasn’t so tired he probably would’ve cared more about the boy’s evident concern in his eyes. But at the moment all he wanted to do was eat lunch and maybe nap on Nino’s couch again like last time.

The brunette honestly looked surprised with his response and began to motion the blond’s whole body with his free hand up and down rapidly.

“This, is what I’m talking about.”

“This?”

“Yes, this, as in you looking like total crap. I mean, your eye bags are darker than Chloe’s soul and that’s fucking saying a lot.”

Adrien usually would’ve chuckled at that, but he found it too hard to do so. He wasn’t really up for engaging in general. He was exhausted, hungry, and was still frustrated with himself that he slept through his alarm and missed homeroom. He really wanted to hear Marinette’s thoughts on his most recent chapter. He felt that it was his best so far.

“I’m tired. What do you expect?”

His tone was intended to sound harsh so Nino would let the subject go, but instead it sounded like a mumbled mess, his voice going deep again. He mentally rolled his eyes at the thought.

“I expect you to sleep!”

“I am sleeping.”

“How many hours a day?”

“I-I don’t know! Enough!”

Nino brought his hand back to his side and sighed once more.

“Do you want me to talk to your dad? Maybe I could convince him to let you stay home tomorrow. You need rest, bro. Like bad.”

Adrien yawned lightly and placed both of his hands on his friend’s shoulders, his back hunched over slightly. He smiled as reassuringly as someone who was running on four hours of sleep could and looked the boy straight in the eye.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay. Honestly. I’ll even make sure to sleep early today if it’ll help you chill.”

“I am chill!”

Adrien genuinely laughed at that, feeling the sound rise up from his throat weakly.

“Yeah, like a cucumber,” He let his hands fall into his pockets. “Now let’s go. Gorilla’s almost here and I need coffee.”

“See! Since when do you drink coffee?!”

“Ugghhh Nino!”

Nino put both of his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, I’m chill! I’m chill! Promise!”

The blond nodded and the two began to walk closer to the street, the boys falling into a small discussion about a videogame that Nino’s cousin recommended to him last week. Adrien really tried to pay attention as much as he could since he actually did enjoy Nino’s stories. But, his mind was zoning out from time to time, and with the sounds of all the rushing cars, people, animals, and even the wind, he wasn’t really sure what to focus on. Everything seemed so much louder than it usually was and he felt that he was drifting further away from reality.

What’s happening to me?

Nino was in the middle of explaining something about some cheat codes on a website when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Like, how can you enjoy a game if you get by using these codes?! It’s no lo-“

“Hey, guys. Whatcha up to?”

They both turned around to meet the faces of his two classmates. Alya and Marinette’s arms were linked together and the blue-eyed girl was staring right at him with her eyes widened and her cheeks a bright red flush. Alya’s hold on the girl looked forceful, but Adrien didn’t care enough to question it. However, he did give them a friendly smile, resisting the urge to stare at Marinette for too long.

Did she talk about my story again today?

What is she thinking about?

“Nothing much, about to head back to my place for some lunch. What about you ladies?”

Nino gave Alya a knowing look that Adrien was too oblivious to understand and the girl pulled Marinette closer to her to catch her attention. Adrien was still just standing there smiling, not really aware of what to do, but enjoying the company anyway.

“Well, Marinette and I were going to actually try this new café a few blocks away. We would love it if two, cool dudes joined us,” Alya cleared her throat two times, the second time being much louder than the first. “Right, Marinette?”

The other teen nodded quickly.

“Y-yes! Café…nice and cool like you two! Which is why we should all go… t-together,” Adrien looked at her again and noticed how difficult it was for her to meet his gaze. He always wondered why she was so nervous around him specifically. He felt that maybe the reason was correlated to her opinions on his writing in some way. Marinette’s eyes widened again and her ears grew red at the tips. “And not like together as in together together because it’s not like we’re like that! Just four classmates going to a café to eat an-“

Alya’s hand instantly slapped over her friend’s mouth, stopping her mid-sentence. Adrien always found Marinette and Alya’s friendship amusing and endearing in many ways. They were always so comfortable around one another and acted more like sisters than friends that had known each other for less than a year. He knew he was close to Nino too, however, he did find himself holding back sometimes with him. He really didn’t know what actions and words were considered too much.

Alya laughed awkwardly - Marinette mumbled something in her hand in response that no one could decipher.

“So, you in or what?”

Nino and Adrien looked over at each other, the brunette raising his eyebrows in questioning before Adrien shrugged and nodded. He gave the two girls a tired smile.

“Yeah, we’re in.”

He saw the way Nino winked at Alya after, the two of them staring at each other for a while as if they were having some sort of silent conversation with one another.

Nino seriously needs to ask her out already.

The blond glanced back over at the street to see if his father’s employee was anywhere near by and shrugged before sending him a quick text concerning his whereabouts.

Alya finally removed her hand from Marinette’s face and the girl gasped before glaring at her friend.

“I almost suffocated!” He heard her whisper to the other teen while they all started walking together.

“Well, you didn’t and you can thank me later.”

Adrien and Nino followed closely behind them as they let the two girls lead the way. The walk to the café wasn’t necessarily quiet but was still calming since the only sounds were Nino and Alya’s playful banter. Marinette and Adrien both remained silent, the two of them somehow ending up side-by-side one another on the way to the building. He didn’t remember how it had happened, but he figured it had something to do with his two other friends since they were walking ahead of them as if they didn’t exist.

Adrien started to take note of Marinette’s very close proximity more and more as the minutes passed and knew that he had to say something since the peaceful atmosphere was beginning to become tainted with awkwardness. He cleared his throat and glanced down at her to see she was already staring at him. Her cheeks flushed again once he met her eyes and she quickly looked away.

Why is she so nervous around me?

“So, the weather’s nice today.” He said.

Good one, Adrien.

“Y-yeah, it is. The sky is nice too.”

“Agreed,” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hasn’t looked this blue in a while.”

She hummed in agreement and they both continued to walk behind Alya and Nino who were discussing the Ladyblog. Whenever the girl talked about Ladybug, everyone else could hear it. Her charisma seeped through her words and her voice always got high and loud. He’d probably be the same way when it came to discussing the heroine or even his own writing if he wasn’t too afraid to do so.

He yawned loudly, his eyes closing for a brief second.

“Alya really likes Ladybug, huh?”

Marinette made a startled noise at the sound of Adrien’s abrupt words and went wide-eyed once more before nodding.

“S-sorry! But…um…yeah she does like Ladyblob,” Adrien tilted his head a bit in confusion and glanced down at the shy girl next to him.

“Ladybl-“

“LADYBUG,” Adrien rose his eyebrows in surprise and Marinette smiled nervously. “I mean Ladybug!”

He could’ve swore he heard her mumble a curse word under her breath after, but he also could’ve been imagining things.

“Ah,” They both stopped in front of a crosswalk, waiting for the few rushing cars to drive passed. “What about you?”

He wanted to tease her a bit about what she said. Ask her how she felt about Ladyblob, but he didn’t think their friendship was that developed yet and he didn’t want to risk offending her in any way.

“W-what about me?”

Their eyes met and he noticed how tightly her left hand was gripped onto the strap of her bag. Her knuckles were white.

He sighed internally, deciding to give her a small reassuring smile to try to comfort her in some way. His feet were beginning to feel like they were anchored by cement.

“How do you feel about Ladybug?”

Her body tensed evidently.

Did I say something wrong?

“I...um…she’s pretty cool. I think she and Chat Noir really help out Paris. S-so I am very grateful for the both of them.”

She laughed awkwardly.

His smile faded and he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. He didn’t even mention his alter ego, yet the girl found the need to include him in her response. He didn’t understand her in that aspect.

Cars started to honk and they both looked up to see that a few were waiting for them to pass. He gave them an apologetic wave and they continued on their journey to the café that seemed to be much farther away than he expected.

They were quiet again, and he lost sight of Nino and Alya, the teens nowhere in sight. However, he saw that Marinette was looking at her phone and thought that the girl had probably texted her.

“Um, Nino and Alya are already there,” She said, her eyes still on her screen. “Alya, said they took a shortcut but they’re saving us a table.”

“You know the way?” He asked.

She finally shoved her phone back in her pocket and met his eyes again.

“Y-yeah, of course! W-we’re almost there.”

“Cool.”

“Mhmm.”

As he watched people around them enter buildings, walk, laugh, talk, he began to think more about Marinette’s words and actions from the previous weeks. The way she defended Chat Noir that first time in homeroom. The way she seemed to always defend him every week just because a fanfiction didn’t write him well enough. Adrien just wasn’t sure why the girl was so defensive when it came to his alter ego. He’d only seen her a few times in the suit and she never really seemed struck by him in any way. When dealing with the Evillustrator, she did look excited to work with him, but after a while of thinking, he felt that maybe she was more excited to just be working with a superhero in general, whether it was Chat Noir or not.

Adrien thought about it some more, his eyes looking straight ahead, his hands still in his pockets. And then something hit him, and his face went completely red. He never felt more sober in his life.

His eyes widened, and a small gasp almost left his mouth until he became self-aware.

She doesn’t.

He glanced down at her again and quickly looked away once she noticed his gaze.

But maybe she does.

“Adrien, is everything alright?”

He nodded, maybe too quickly.

“Okay, um good.”

Say something dammit!

“So, do you have a crush on Chat Noir?”

Are you kidding me?! REALLY?!

He heard a small snicker and he knew it didn’t come from either him or his friend.

Plagg was totally going to give him shit for his question later.

“I m-mean if you don’t mind me asking of course!”

Real smooth Agreste.

When he finally looked back at Marinette he saw an expression on her that’d he never seen before. Her eyebrows were furrowed but her eyes were wide in shock, her mouth hung open with no words coming out other than some odd sound.

“I-What?” She finally spoke.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck nervously, regretting ever opening his mouth in the first place. He shouldn’t have asked. He should’ve just gone to Nino’s house, ate one of his mom’s amazing omelets, and slept until he felt less dead inside.

His face warmed up even more and he could feel his palms beginning to sweat.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He silently blamed his exhaustion for his mindless rambling. However, he continued anyway.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you or anything! I just- you um seem to say a lot of nice things about him. Like that one time in class.”

“Oh, you heard that.”

He was sure everybody heard that.

Her cheeks were red again, but this time he felt that it wasn’t for the same reasons as before.

“I-I don’t have a crush on him. But…I don’t know,” She shrugged and her features softened. “Alya was talking about some fanfiction with him and Ladybug and I just don’t like it when people don’t receive the recognition they deserve, you know? It’s not right.”

He smiled fondly at her words, he couldn’t help it. Adrien didn’t know her as well as he would like, but he knew that her response was just so her. He muttered an “Of course.” And felt warmth spread throughout his chest in a calming way. He really wanted to sleep, but he was also glad that he didn’t pass up the opportunity to eat with her.

_______________

Alya and Nino both apologized for walking ahead of them when they finally arrived, though their words didn’t seem so genuine. He told them it was okay, however, since he felt that Nino probably wanted alone time with the other girl. And also he did enjoy Marinette’s company so it wasn't a big deal to him anyway. He could sense that the boy had a crush on her even though he still refused to admit it. Adrien just winked at his friend and Nino gave him a confused look before winking back and chuckling.

They were seated in a small circular table near the corner of the room. There was a nice window beside them that had sunlight dawn through, reflecting off the white painted coffee mugs and making the liquid inside them look lighter than what they actually were.

Adrien sat next to Nino and the two girls sat right across, Marinette directly in front of him. Since the two boys had never gone to the café, they allowed the two girls to order for them, Nino also making sure that they didn’t order Adrien extra coffee no matter how much he begged.

“It isn’t happening, dude.”

Adrien rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, there’s a Starbucks on the way back to my house. I’ll just get my fix there.”

“Bro.”

Nino sighed.

“Sleep instead. I heard it’s much better than coffee and it’s free. It’s a win-win.”

“You’re doing the no chill thing again, Nino.”

“Says the guy that drinks coffee like it’s water.”

Adrien snorted.

“You found out today that I drink coffee. You don’t know how often I drink it.”

“You wanted them to order you two cups of coffee with two shots of espresso in each, dude. That’s not normal.”

The two girls returned with delicious looking sandwiches for all of them and they all began to eat, talking about different things that made the air seem lighter and their experience much more memorable. Alya was the one that started the conversation, talking about school. And from there on new topics began to arise, the four teens socializing in a calm and friendly manner for several minutes. Adrien enjoyed the group’s company, even finding himself getting lost in the interaction so much so that he didn’t even hear Alya’s sudden comment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

Marinette was scowling at her friend with her cheeks flushed as always, and was obviously trying to avoid eye contact with the blond.

“Alya!” She said.

Her friend ignored her and proceeded to look at Adrien with a devilish smirk playing on her lips.

“I said that Marinette told me you thought she had a crush on Chat Noir. And I just wanted to know how you feel about that.”

The whole table seemed to be awaiting his answer, even Marinette, though she refused to look at him for some reason. He was never fond of being put on the spot like that and was mentally praying that Nino would interject and say something. Instead, his friend was too busy smiling, and Adrien knew that he too wanted to hear his response.

How did he feel when he thought Marinette had a crush on him? Well now that he was fueled with caffeine he was more aware of his thoughts and feelings. All he could really think at the moment was that he was flattered. A strong and kind girl like Marinette liking him would’ve been such a high compliment to receive, even though he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate her feelings. However, he couldn’t say that aloud. So, he just blushed and shrugged instead.

“It’s interesting, I suppose.”

Marinette continued staring at her lap.

Alya cocked in eyebrow.

“Oh, in what way?”

Adrien turned to Nino and rose his eyebrows in some sort of desperate plea, but the boy’s smile just widened and he motioned Adrien to continue.

Why is he like this?!

“Um… I don’t know. I’ve heard you two talk about that fanfiction or whatever-“

“The Empty Streets of Paris?”

Adrien smiled at the sound of the title of his own story.

“Yeah, and I just thought she liked him since she seemed to criticize it so much.”

Shit.

Did that sound harsh?

He didn’t mean it to.

“And not that that’s a bad thing or anything!”

First the gum incident and now this. She’s going to hate me.

“Well, that is true, Mari. I guess I see where he was coming from.” Alya adds, Marinette finally looking up to look at her best friend.

“Hey! I don’t criticize it all the time.”

Alya snorted.

“That’s all that comes out of your mouth when we talk about it.”

“I’m sorry if I have an opinion.” She whispers to herself, her bottom lip out in a pout.

They were talking about his story again.

They were talking about it with him there, with them knowing he was listening.

He needed more coffee.

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing M. I’m just saying that I get why Adrien over here came to that conclusion. You do only talk about it when it has something to do with Chat Noir.”

He was red again – he knew he was. He lifted up his mug and pretended to be drinking out of it, even though there was nothing left inside. Nino seemed to notice this since he finally spoke up.

“Alya, can you not bring Adrien into this fan crap.”

Alya glared at Nino.

“It isn’t crap. And Adrien doesn’t seem to have a problem with the topic. Isn’t that right, Adrien?!”

The whole table was staring at him once again, and the teen realized that the mug was still against his lips so he finally placed it down.

What should he say? A part of him wanted to continue talking about his story since he was so dependent on feedback, but another part of him was yelling that he would be taking things too far. He gulped instead.

“I don’t really mind. I’m actually a bit curious.”

Alya leaned over the table and gave Nino a smile before muttering an “I told you.” before sitting back down correctly. Nino groaned and Marinette had a hand placed over her face.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

The table went silent for a while, Nino and Alya having a heated staring contest with one another while Marinette and Adrien were both finding something to do to distract themselves from the awkward tension that suddenly arose.

Adrien cleared his throat.

“So, I keep hearing that the story’s good?”

He was weak, really.

Alya finally turned to him and smiled widely.

“Why, yes it is!”

She continued to explain to him his own plot for a few minutes, a satisfied grin on Adrien’s face when she complimented his technique and characterization. He knew that Plagg was hearing all of this and that the kwami was probably going to tell him something on the lines of: “Don’t let this get to your head,” later on, but he didn’t care. He was going to let it a little.

“Ah, I guess it does sound kind of interesting.”

“Dude, it’s a story about Ladybug and Chat Noir. We get to see the real deal almost every week. I don’t see what’s so interesting about it.” Nino commented, his body slumped more into his chair than before with his arms crossed over his chest.

Alya huffed.

“Nino, just because you don’t get something doesn’t mean you need to bash it.”

“What, so Marinette can bash it, but I can’t?!”

“Oh my god.” Marinette breathed out.

“Yeah, because she does it with style and actually has logical reasons to back herself up.”

“Mine are logical!”

“Yeah, whatever,” she looks at Adrien again. “So back to what we were saying, I can send you the link if you want. It really is good.”

Adrien’s small smile vanished and he rubbed his right thigh nervously before looking over at Marinette and chuckling stiffly. She was finally looking at him again, and Adrien couldn’t help but wonder what her expression would be after a chapter of his story. Would those blue eyes light up as his did when he first discovered fanfiction. Would she finally accept his portrayal of Chat Noir? He wasn’t sure why she was so driven to avoid his story so bad, but he began to think that maybe his answer could change her mind in some way.

“Sure,” He was still looking at the girl in front of him for some reason, refusing to even acknowledge Nino’s groan. “I’ll give it a try.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and he so badly wanted to know what she was thinking right at that moment.

____________

Chapter 8 of “The Empty Streets of Paris”

--by FelineGood16 on FanWorkz.net

He still cannot fathom what is happening. Ladybug is carrying him, his pale arms wrapped securely around her neck as she runs through a back alley to get him to safety. The akuma had almost gotten him a few minutes ago. The villain’s sharp nails had dragged across his cheek slowly, and he felt it begin to turn him into stone before he was rescued. Ladybug needed Chat Noir and it was killing him that he hadn’t transformed on time. He had thought that was the end. The end of his life, the end of their partnership, the end of Paris. But there his knight was, saving him yet again. And she’s still carrying him, unaware of who the man in her arms truly is. He resists the urge to rest his head on her chest. He wonders if her heart is beating as quickly as his is now.

He stares up at her and marvels in her beauty. Her pigtails are coming undone, and a few strands of her raven black hair are falling over her eyes, but she’s still so beautiful and Felix is still so undoubtedly in love with her.

She rests him on the ground, gently, once she finds a far enough place. He drags his fingers across her shoulder as his hands release from their hold selfishly. He doesn’t want to let go, but he knows he must.

“Are you alright?” She asks, her voice filled with that familiar tone of concern that never fails to make his heart ache.

“Y-yeah. Thank you so much for saving me.”

Still resting where she set him down, his sweaty palms slide against the rough bricks as he looks up at her.

“No problem.”

Her eyebrows suddenly knit together once she notices something on him. She bends down to his level and his cheeks feel like they are scorched by a flame.

“Damn, she got you.” She says, her hand going to his face. He silently curses the akuma, angry that because of them he can’t feel her touch properly. His cheek is still made of stone.

“I’ll be fine.” He mutters.

She looks intently at him as though he’s a fragile doll and he’s never felt more vulnerable in his life. She’s noticing him. She’s finally noticing him.

__________________

“A little slow tonight, huh kitty?” His partner asked him once they landed on top of a building. It was almost eleven at night, Adrien still hadn’t eaten since lunch, his eyes were stinging almost painfully, and he wasn’t sure if he could patrol much longer. His knees felt like jelly and it was getting harder and harder for him to latch onto his staff when he landed.

“Slow?” He forced a chuckle and puffed out his chest in an exaggerated manner. “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes as she walked closer to him, a small smile concealing her concern.

“You also don’t seem to know the meaning of the word sleep. Have you been getting some, Chat? You’ve seemed a bit…off lately.”

He looked down at her worried expression and knew that what she said was a clear understatement. Last patrol he had lost his balance more times than he could count and tonight Ladybug had to wait for him to catch up a few times since she was moving too fast. He knew it was because of his exhaustion, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want his lady to think he was having any troubles whatsoever. He was supposed to be her useful partner, and what use would he be if he’d let her patrol on her own while he stayed home to sleep.

“Aww, is a certain bug worried about me?” He decided to tease instead. He was good at teasing and making jokes. Everything was less serious and he had more control of the conversation. However, sometimes Ladybug didn’t accept that.

Her smile faded and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don’t try changing the subject. Have you been sleeping enough? I don’t mind handling the next patrol on my o-“

“Yes, I have. And there’s no need. I’ll be there.”

He was no longer smiling either, all the amusement gone from the air. He wondered if the light illuminating around them was as blurry to her as it was to him. He didn’t say anything, however. He knew it wasn’t.

“Chat-“

“I’m going to be there.”

She sighed and placed her hand on his right shoulder gently. He knew he was going to feel her touch even after she lowered her hand. It was burning him.

“Just, try to get some sleep. Alright? I don’t want you to hurt yourself because of your own stubbornness.”

“Hey! I am not st-“

“Chat,” He stopped as soon as his name came out of her mouth again. Her voice was soft like cotton and it startled him. “Please?”

How could he say no to that?

He sighed, defeated.

“Okay, my lady.”

She smiled and lowered her hand before stepping back.

“It’s getting pretty late, so I think we’re done with patrol for today. What do you think?”

He nodded and felt himself yawn, his mind going dizzy a bit.

She gave him one last smile before she said goodnight and swung away into the night.

She was worried about me.

He smiled lovingly at the thought. He knew he was going to have to write down his feelings as soon as he got home, no matter how disgusting Plagg thought they were.

He began his journey home, jumping from building to building, trying to approximate how many blocks away he was [He figured about seven, but as his sight began to blur more and more, he wasn’t so sure anymore. His eyes were begging to close and his thoughts kept racing in his head in a way he couldn’t control.

What’s happening?

He yawned again, thinking his weird feeling had something to do with his empty stomach. But then in the middle of a leap, he realized that he forgot to use his baton to give himself more momentum and ended up falling, his eyes closing abruptly as he felt his whole body give out in midair.

His wavering consciousness was waiting for the strong impact from the ground that he expected was soon to come. But it never came, instead his mind went black and he felt like he was flying.

#Fanboy #miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic #ml au #miraculous ladybug au #chat noir #ladybug #marichat #marinette cheng #adrien agreste #ladynoir #adrinette #adrienette

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smolwritings · 7 years

Text

BTS Being Sad Because Their Crush Gets Into a Relationship-Maknae Line

“BTS reacting to their female best friend comforting them while they’re sad but not knowing they feel down because of her having a boyfriend. Thanks!”

Jungkook-

“Jungkook I’m home!” you call out, kicking the door shut behind you after stepping into you and your best friend’s apartment, “Jungkook? You here? Please don’t scare me, I’m not in the mood.”

Your phone buzzes and you take it out of your purse, scanning the screen and smiling. After posting a picture of you and your boyfriend holding hands(which your boyfriend suggested to put up because he said you looked beautiful), you’ve been getting hundreds of likes on your social media. You chuckle to yourself, “well, I guess people only like me for my boyfriend.”

Jungkook walks out of his room, covered in a huge blanket with puffy eyes. You gasp and rush over to him, “Aw Jungkook what happened? Did you lose to Taehyung at that board game again? I told you not to be a sore loser…”

“No, y/n, I think I’m experiencing my first heartbreak. It really fucking hurts,” Jungkook sniffles and looks away from you.

“Oh um,” you bite your lip and give him a hug, “I didn’t even know you liked anyone, but you still wanna tell me what happened?”

Jungkook hugs you back, but rests his chin on your head so you can’t see him cry, “well there was this girl and I-” sniffle, “really liked her and still like her a lot,” sniffle, “but you-I mean she got a boyfriend which freaking sucks because I only found out while scrolling through instagram and I-” he sobs harder as you freeze against him.

You slowly lift your head as he backs up, “Jungkook…. the girl you’re talking about isn’t me, is it…”

Jungkook stares blankly at you for a moment then smiles sadly, “for your sake… we can say it isn’t.”

Taehyung-

You and a seething Taehyung are sitting on a bench in the mall drinking a blue raspberry(his favorite, as you know) slurpee together. You had to drag him out of the darkness of his room just to get him out of the house which is totally unlike him because he usually loves going to the mall with you. For some odd reason Tae had been acting completely strange, but the only change that had happened recently was that you got a boyfriend…. Still, it’s not like you stopped hanging out with Tae.

“Y/n? Is that you?” a familiar voice calls and you turn your head to the direction of the noise.

Your boyfriend stands smiling and waving at you while your heart beats faster than before. Grinning dumbly to the thought of your partner, you feel butterflies in your stomach and struggle to brush your messy hair down. Oh god, I must look like a mess, you groan to yourself.

“Taehyung do I look oka-”

You look to where Taehyung was sitting, but only your unfinished shared slurpee sits there now. Your phone buzzes and you ignore both the vibration and the strange feeling of guilt you have to go greet your boyfriend.

Text from Taehyung: Sorry I left, I couldn’t watch someone that isn’t me make you so happy…

Deleted by ‘Taeddy Bear <3’

Sorry I left, see you later.

(Basically, I think Taehyung wouldn’t be confrontational because he wouldn’t want to ruin anything between you and someone that makes you happy)

Jimin-

You rush up behind Jimin and jump onto his back, strong arms holding you up while he giggles.“Jiminie, my crush asked me out!!!!” you squeal and Jimin’s face instantly drops.

“…What,” Jimin deadpans as he places you down.

For some reason you felt awkward around your bestfriend for the first time in years, “I have a boyfriend now…”

“Yeah. I heard you,” Jimin sighs and starts to walk away which makes you grab his arm out of annoyance.

“What’s up with you? Aren’t you supposed to be like ‘congrats y/n! I never knew anyone could stand your face’ and give me advice or something?” you ask, a bit irritated by how Jimin pulls away from you.

“Congrats y/n,” Jimin rolls his eyes and starts for the school exit again.

“Look, Jimin. I’m getting real tired of your shitty attitude. Why are you being like this? Yesterday you were acting so nice… You even bought me flowers and chocolate and called me pretty….” Jimin freezes and glares at you, like he wants to yell, but instead he nods his head.

“I thought you could take a hint, but I guess not,” Jimin purses his lips for a second, “I suppose I’ll just tell you since this’ll be my only chance… Y/n I like you…”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen. Jimin takes this as an instant sign of rejection and looks like he’s about to cry-or throw up- or both.

“J-Jimin. I… think I like you too. I think I have for a while, but I can’t just break up with y/b/n for you. Please understand…” you have a strong urge to run into Jimin’s arms, the words coming off your tongue contradicting what you want. But in this case, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Jimin seems to know what you’re thinking and slowly wraps his arms around you, “that’s okay, if it doesn’t work out with him, I’ll be here. I’ll try to wait.”

-Admin C

I want to add a quick note: I realize this isn’t much of an excuse for my lack of activity nor my trashy writing, but finals has got me fucked up. My sleep schedule is down the drain and my head is killing me, but it was nice to release some of the stress by writing this. I hope you enjoy my stress writing :)))

#bts #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts fluff #maknae #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #jungkook angst #jimin angst #taehyung angst #bts angst #bts fic #bangtan boys

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blythewonder · 7 years

Text

Good Girls Go Bad || Bridget & Molly [AR]

A sampling from the other side...

In Ashford River, Molly and Bridget deal with a deal gone somewhat wrong.

ft. the AR Boyfriends (aka Xavier and Jonas)

Molly was lying on the grass with one earbud tucked into her left ear as the other laid uselessly in the grass next to her head. The headphones had become a permanent accessory for Molly it seemed, and even at work the older Scribes didn't say anything to her about her headphones any longer. Not that they held much hold over her to begin with. Her father and grandfather held pretty high positions in this chapter and basically gave Molly immunity from any of the other Scribes that might have a problem with her or what she wore to work daily. But today wasn't a work day. Today she was just waiting for whoever Bridget had set up to buy some information to show up. Molly used to just supply the information for Bridget and let her handle the physical deal, accepting her cut afterwards. But she grew tired of sitting in the background and requested to start coming along just because she had grown bored. But waiting for this buyer to show up was equally as boring. "Is this a repeat customer? If so he sucks." Molly groaned from the ground, looking over at Bridget. She had been to a few meetings with her by now, but none that she had to wait outside in the cold for.

Bridget was sitting up, legs crossed as she scrolled through her phone, only half-paying attention to the buzz of the town around her. Her hair hung around her face in perfect curls. Her contact was supposed to arrive now, and she hated waiting. Always had. It was part of why she'd straight up applied early decision to college -- and even that hadn't been fast enough. "Where the fuck is he?" She glared at her phone, typing out a quick message. "He's repeat, but he's usually quite prompt." She glanced over to Molly. "You haven't heard anything, right? Because he's running on fifteen minutes late now and I'm ready to move on with my day." Her phone buzzed and she looked down. Someone else, not the guy they were supposed to be meeting. "What are you listening to?" She nodded at Molly as she pulled a package of gum out of her purse and unwrapped a piece. "Want one?" She held it out to her friend.

"He's quite late today," Molly pointed out the obvious, shaking her head at Bridget's next question. "Nope. I don't even know who the guy is. You made me promise not to hack into your stuff remember?" Molly had made it a habit of reading every file of every Scribe member that worked in Ashford River. Including Bridget's. And sometimes Molly took it a little further by adding a backdoor into their computer systems, especially if Molly thought it might be useful to her in the future. But the closer that her and Bridget became, the quicker Bridget became aware of just how capable Molly was with computers. She made Molly promise not to look into her personal things soon after that. Being the good friend Molly was, she had decided to respect that wish. "Avril Lavigne of course." A true pioneer of her generation and severely underappreciated. "Don't mind if I do" she popped the piece into her mouth and chewed for a bit before blowing a big bubble and letting it pop.

"So I've noticed." Bridget rolled her eyes. "I do remember, but I don't know, maybe you heard something from him." She tapped angrily at her phone again, red manicured nails clicking against the screen. "This isn't him, FYI." She said, chewing on her gum. "Some bullshit trainee Scribe wants to talk to me and ask about all my studies, just because one of my dads published that paper about fae languages. Like I give even one shit." She sighed. "Avril Lavigne? Not bad. A little dated, but hey, I like a girl who can appreciate the classics." She giggled, before blowing a bubble with her gum and sucking it back in. "I swear, if I get frostbite I'm going to kill somebody." She tugged her jacket tighter around her body.

Molly shrugged from her spot on the ground, barely doing anything except wrinkling her leather jacket. "I let you handle the people stuff I just steal the information." Molly had purposely built a login system into the Scribe server she created, specifically created as a security system for purposes exactly like how Molly now used it. The irony killed Molly too. All information logged or pulled up was kept under a specific Scribe number assigned to each person. That way she could keep track of who used what. Luckily Molly knew the only way around that. It's what made her so valuable to Bridget. "Have you told him that he can just look the stuff up on the computers and read the files for himself?" Molly suggested, a small part of her still acting in defensive of the to-be Scribe. She didn't care enough to actually get involved with it though. She glanced over at her phone, which currently had the camera feed from the park pulled up on it, to see a figure approaching the entrance. "Hey this dude looks shady is this your guy?" Molly asked, tossing her phone at Bridget.

Bridget nodded. "I'm aware, I'm quite a people person, funny enough. Thanks daddy and papa, at least you did something right." She made a face. "You know that I'm forever totally grateful to you for that, right?" She smiled over to Molly. It was true, she had grown incredibly fond of the other girl. Her job was possible to do solo -- she'd done just that back in Salem -- but having someone else made it all the more enjoyable. "I have. He says, and I practically quote, 'Oh, but Bridget, I want to talk to you.' Though he used the letter 'u' for 'you', but whatever." She glanced over to Molly's phone. "Mm-hmm, looks like him." She pushed herself off the ground, stuffing her own phone into her jacket pocket and crossed her arms over her chest. "Remember, he's curious about ashrays, right? He's just a warlock or something. Should be no problem-o at all."

Molly sat up and smiled widely at Bridget, "I know." She had been pretty thankful for the two finding each other. Before Bridget Molly had only ever stolen one file from that Scribes, and that was for Jonas. But that had been it. She had basically done nothing in her entire life wrong and had grown so incredibly bored of it. She needed something a little more flavorful in her live. "Maybe he has a crush on you. How adorable." Making a heart symbol with her hands and finally getting to her feet also. "Right. I got the flashdrive right here." She fished the flashdrive out of her jacket pocket and waved it around before stuffing it back into her pocket. "Ooh here comes the broody warlock right now. Work your magic Blythe."

"Well, so long as you know." Bridget grinned back to Molly. At least there was somebody else in the stifling place that was Ashford's HQ who she could stand to talk to. She made a face as Molly continued. "Oh I hope not. I mean, I am hot, but I don't think Xavier wants to share me, at least not with the boy who's been begging for the chance to talk to me. But hey, maybe I'll do it anyhow, wear an extra nice outfit, make his year." She let out a soft giggle. "Thanks a load." She nodded. "Don't call him that to his face, but I'm on it." Bridget fluffed the ends of her hair and made her way over to the man -- tall -- not as tall as Xavier, she noted with pride -- hair with way too much gel, a tattoo on his neck. As if he could become anything more of a stereotype. "We've got what you asked for," she smirked, making sure to keep the grin on her face as she stared up at him. "Every. Last. Detail." Bridget took a few steps closer to the man, relishing in the moment. "We don't disappoint," she cracked her gum, "so now all you've got to do is tuck that check of yours that I know you've already written," Bridget winked, "right into my pocket and my friend here'll give you just what you asked for, and then all of us can be out of this frigid weather." She blew out, her breath crystalizing, as if to make her point all the more clear. "Well, this'll be of good use." He replied. "But I wanna see what I'm getting first." He looked over to Molly. "Not given, just a view."

With a sort of astonished amazement, Molly watched as Bridget seemingly flipped a switch around different people. In front of the other Scribes Bridget was seemingly a perfect Scribe, living up to her legacy just as Molly was. And yet when she was with Molly she did almost a 180. Sarcastic, making fun of any Scribe that had dared to talk to her that day. She seemed real. Then in front of this man is was all business, with just a bit of fun tucked into it. Bridget was so good at playing others that she actually started to wonder just if the Bridget that Molly saw was the real one or just another mask. Whether or not that was the case, Molly couldn't help but like Bridget even more. Then the warlock turned his attention onto Molly and asked for the information. A preview at least. Right. Confirmation of the goods. People were good for this. She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and found his phone rather easily. Searching for Wi-Fi out here in the middle of the park? Not the wisest decision. She hacked into his phone easily and then pulled out the cord that connected from her phone and allowed someone to transfer a Flashdrive's information onto a cellular device. "Check your phone" she said, just as his phone began chiming. "Take a good luck now dude. Because that file will delete itself in about thirty seconds." As the grumbled and became distracted looking at his phone Molly grinned at Bridget and gave her a nonchalant thumbs up.

She almost wished Xavier could be here to watch her. But Bridget thoroughly enjoyed everything she did on her own. Without her sister around -- like her fathers had attempted to force upon her when she was a little girl. No, this was all on her own, and she'd gotten a true friend out of it in Molly, and so really, what was the harm? She could detail this to Xavier later when she went to his apartment. He'd said that he had a special surprise for her. She hoped it was new clothing. As the warlock -- Garvey -- spoke, Bridget chanced a glance over to Molly, watching in awe and appreciation as she worked her magic, before she turned back to Garvey. "I -- we -- don't disappoint." She winked at Molly. "This is good." Garvey said, voice gruff. "But I don't know, you're only two little girls, should I really pay you the full amount? This'll just be used for one quick viewing -- after all, that boy should be exposed for what he is, after all, and you two are charging quite the steep price." Bridget took a step forward, lips in a straight line. "We deliver, you pay." She glanced over at Molly. "My friend's done a fucking brilliant job, here. Also last I heard, you weren't doing this for any sort of bullshit exposure. I thought it was to gain some of their water or whatever. What gives?"

Excuse this creep, Molly was above average height for a female. She rolled her eyes at the man from a few feet back and began looking through his phone. Bridget even sounded a little confused as to his motives. Not that the two generally cared much for the reason behind wanting something from them, only caring about the highest bidder. But when those bidders went back on the money, Molly became a little more curious. She started going through his text messages, searching for anytime he used the word 'Ashray'. She flicked through a few messages that he had exchanged with a man who popped up in his phone as bae. Original. "Bridge. He's trying to expose a Scribe" She questioned out loud. Very clear, the name of a man that the two worked with at the headquarters who was clearly a an Ashray according to the file Molly had read when she started, was splattered all across their messages. "Our files detail how to kill an Ashray." Molly didn't care for the Scribes in any way, but she had worked with the guy. It wasn't like she wanted him to die. Molly took a deep breath, knowing that showing weakness was only going to make things worse. Instead, she did the next best thing she could think of. "Tsk tsk. You told your banking app to save your password?" She looked down at the phone dramatically, "And it's just your birthday backwards? Gotta do better than that dude." She tapped away at the phone, making sure to be extra loud with it. "You bitch" He growled, inching forward, but she held up a hand. "It'd be a lost cheaper to just give us the check than let me transfer out as much money as I can type in a second. Spoiler: It's a lot."

"Hm?" Bridget stepped away from the man for a minute, casting her eyes over to Molly. She'd had a bidder back out once before, or try to, until Bridget got him to change his mind. But this was different, and during that time she hadn't had Molly around to see if something else was up. Until now. "I don't--" care, she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat and she let out a sigh before flashing a glare over to Garvey. Damn Molly and her still mostly-present morals. At least when it came to caring about their co-workers. Not that Bridget advocated death, but she just wanted the deal cut and down with now, before her whole body froze. "Fuck off, Garvey." She moved away from Molly again. "You told me it was just so you could have fun with a bothersome one. You know I don't" -- usually "sell out my coworkers. That's some bullshit you're trying to pull on us." She crossed her arms. "My friend's not shitting you, so you better do what we say." Garvey took a step towards Bridget and she felt her body stiffen just slightly. "No can do, sweet-heart." He blew a kiss at the two of them. "You said you'd deliver, I never made you any kind of promise. So give me the file and all'll be well and good."

Molly could transfer all of the money out of his accounts in seconds, but that didn't seem to bother him. And without being able to threaten him electronically, what could Molly even do against the man? He was a warlock after all. Even if he was just a regular man she wasn't sure if the two could fight him off. Molly knew she couldn't. She inched backwards almost instinctively, letting a wave of fear wash over her. They could run right? Maybe they could. Could he stop them with some kind of magic? She played with the flash drive in her jacket pocket and thought about just handing it over to him. But before she could pull it out she saw a ridiculously tall figure approaching from behind the man. Next to him was a slightly shorter man and Molly was overcome with relief. "This douchebag giving you a problem?" The taller man called out curiously. The boyfriends were here.

Bridget wasn't sure exactly what do do. She had half a mind to grab the flashdrive from Molly and step on it, but what good would that do? Garvey didn't seem to be the sort to let things like that go lightly. Or maybe she could grab the flashdrive and just give it to him. One fewer scribe for the world to have to deal with. "I--" she'd began, before Xavier and Jonas appeared and Bridget let out a sigh of relief, flashing a grin over to Xavier. "He is." She pouted, just slightly. Not enough for it to be whinny, but just enough that he came over and pulled her closer to his body. "Dude, what gives?" Xavier said, his voice slightly gruff. "Breaking promises can lead to other broken things, let that sink into your mind." Bridget glanced over to Jonas, wondering if he'd speak up or if he and Molly were going to let her and Xavier do all the talking. She almost hoped he'd speak up. The two of them had shown up, the least they could do would be provide some use to the situation.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Jonas whispered into Molly's ear s he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her. She stood just a few inches short than he did, just enough for him to rest his chin on her shoulder. Molly grinned. "Well a few broken bones wouldn't hurt too bad would it?" She asked out loud, mostly to the four of them. With all four of them here, this warlock did little more than annoy Molly. "What do you two think of some broken bones?" She called out to Bridget and Xavier.

"I wouldn't be opposed to a little of that, how about you?" Xavier pressed his lips against Bridget's head. "I haven't done that in a long while." He glanced over to Jonas and back to Garvey. Bridget found herself straightening up a little taller. Not that she would have let someone like the warlock ruffle her, but having both her and Molly's boyfriends here just made everything all the more thrilling. Especially when Garvey was at least four inches shorter than Xavier. "It might be a proper response, given how gosh darn disrespectful he's been to us, don't you think?" Bridget blew a bubble with her gum and let it pop! against her lips, sucking it in. "What goes around comes around, huh? In all sorts of funny ways."

"Fuck you guys," The warlock growled, pulling the crumpled check out of his pocket and practically throwing it at Bridget and Xavier before scampering off across the grass and out of their line of sight. Molly and Jonas both immediately busted out laughing. "What a fucking prick" Jonas laughed, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, popping it in his mouth, and then lighting it, "Should let me go after him. I could catch him." Molly shook her head and shrugged his suggestion off. "Don't worry. The ARPD are going to realize that they actually have an open warrant for arrest on Garvey for attempted murder soon." She beamed from her phone, then pulled herself free from Jonas and made her way over offering a high five to both Xavier and Bridget, "We crushed that deal I think?"

"I love you." Bridget giggled, blowing a kiss toward Molly. "Best to let him go," Bridget began, glancing up at Xavier, "you can beat something up later, okay?", she bent down to pick up the check, pulling it tight between her hands, "we got paid and didn't even have to give him anything!" She gave a high-five to Molly. "I think this calls for extra celebration, if I do say so myself. Not every day you just get money and an afternoon off, hm?"

“I say we got get some drinks" Molly suggested. She was still underage, but Jonas had an in with more than a few of the bars here in town. And all of the owners knew Molly now by association. They didn't mind letting her drink when Jonas was with her. "I could really go for a cheeseburger right now" She laughed, wrapping her arms around Jonas in a hug before falling into pace with him, walking alongside Xavier and Bridget. "Maybe you'll get lucky and some drunk guy with start a bar fight Xavier. Then you can break some bones." Nothing was better than making some money on the side then spending her day off with her four best friends.

#touchofchatzy #touchofar #touchofchallenge #(i hope it is okay i'm putting it in all these tags)#c molly #chatzy #good girls go bad #threats tw #(i think that's it -- there is talk of breaking bones but no actual violence)#tl;dr ar bridget and molly are terrible but this was so fun to write #:)

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