#she’s so pretty dude *hiding her in-game model behind my back so no one thinks about how canonically freaky she looks* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justcourttee · 4 years

Note

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

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#maribat #chloe x roy #miraculous ladybug

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hueswrites · 4 years

Text

hq kinktober [day2] hanamaki & matsukawa

main hq kinktober masterlist

hq kinktober [day2] hanamaki takahiro & matsukawa isseis - double penetration

includes:

simultaneous vaginal & anal sex, all consenting, established relationship, alcohol use

wordcount:

4,136

~~~

You lay in bed with your boyfriend, basking in a blissful post-sex haze while you let your eyes rest. The "ding" of a text coming through Takahiro's phone grabs your attention.

"I'm getting drinks with Issei," he says, rolling out of bed.

You glance at the time. "It's two in the afternoon," you state, giving him a disapproving glare.

"And?" He says, going to the bathroom to take a piss with the door wide open.

"I really wish you would find a job. Is Issei off today or something?"

"Nah. He had a shitty day and his dad let him leave early, so I'm going to keep him company."

You roll your eyes. "Must be nice working for daddy. Why don't you see if you can get a job with him?"

"He actually did say they need someone in the crematory, but I'm not burning up dead people for a living. Besides," he turns to look at you and winks. "You know you love having me here to cook, clean, and fuck you senseless at all hours of the day."

You roll your eyes. He had a point.

~~~

Takahiro finds Issei at the bar, halfway through his second beer and looking absolutely miserable. They greet each other with a nod and Takahiro takes the seat next to him. The bartender is is already cracking a bottle open of Takahiro's usual order, which happens to be the same exact beer Issei preferred to drink. He takes a good, lengthy sip then sets the frosty bottle down with an audible sigh of delight. He looks over at Issei. "Wanna talk about it?"

Issei groans. "No. I just wanna drink." He takes a sip of his beer.

Takahiro unzips his jacket and saunters it off his shoulders, then places it onto the empty stool beside him. He looks up at the top shelf of liquors behind the bar and racks through his brain for something to talk about that would help get his friend out of his slump. "Oikawa's visiting next week. Have you talked to him? You know that'll be a good time. Always is."

Issei only sighs in response. Well, shit. He was really down in the dumps. "I need to get laid, Makki," he grumbles.

Takahiro raises his eyebrows. "What happened with that one foreign chick? Thought you and her had a good thing going on."

"She found someone else. Said she felt like she was fucking the grim reaper and thought I'd end up giving her a curse from one of the dead bodies in the funeral home," he drops his head down onto his forearms and hides his face. "Said she couldn't get the image of dead, shriveled dick out of her head when we hooked up."

Takahiro laughs. "That's fucking weird," he says. "You don't even see the bodies. You just sell the caskets and help families through their grieving."

"Yeah, I know," he groans out in frustration. "I have a decent job making decent money and even have my own place... I guess that's the limit on the amount of good things I'm allowed to have in this life."

Takahiro scoffs. "Don't say that. You're doing really good. Shit, look at me. I've been unemployed for three months now, freeloading off my girlfriend-"

"Your hot girlfriend,"

Takahiro ignores him, continuing, "I'm in a shit ton of debt, and I've now watched every single season of that stupid Korean drama my girlfriend insisted would inspire me to change my life Honestly, that shit made me feel worse."

Issei manages a laugh and lifts his head back up, dark wavy hair now a tousled mess over his forehead. "Yeah, dude. You sound like a bum. Why does she keep you around?"

"I cook and I clean. And," a smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, "the sex is amazing."

Issei's head drops back down onto the bar top. "Fuck you," he mumbles into the sleeves of his shirt.

"You know, she is a model and a personal trainer. There's no way she doesn't have any single, cute girl friends that would be willing to hook up."

Issei sits back up and finishes his drink, the idea now seeming to lift his spirits. "If you could find someone that'd be interested in a gloomy, boring guy like me, then I'll pay your tab-"

Takahiro smiles and chugs the rest of his beer, then locks onto the bartender. "Another round on this guy's tab, please," he shouts.

Issei chuckles. "You better work some magic, asshole."

~~~

Takahiro returns home to your apartment to find you in the living room, drenched in sweat and in the middle of giving one of your online fitness classes. As you go through the motions of squats and burpees he takes a moment to admire the way your ass jiggles and resists the urge to give it a smack. You would kill him if you did such a thing in front of her clients, and probably withhold any sort of physical intimacy from him as punishment. It's amazing that you even have the energy to workout after your earlier exertion with him in bed.

He decides to make himself comfortable on at the kitchen counter and pulls out his phone, scrolling through your list of friends on Facebook. He didn't know half the people on your list, and he was pretty sure you didn't know them either. It made sense that a popular, attractive young woman such as yourself had so many connections. When the two of you started dating, you warned Takahiro about the amount of attention men (and women) gave you. It didn't bother Takahiro one bit. He loved knowing someone as attractive and talented as you was all his.

Issei may have had the career and the independence, but to Takahiro, you were all he needed. He loved to please you. The cooking and cleaning was no chore to him. You allowed him to stay at your apartment expecting nothing but his love and respect in return. And great sex. You were definitely just as kinky and open-minded as he is.

As his thoughts focused on you, he found himself remembering the early days of your relationship. He met you two years ago at a bar when Oikawa had been in town visiting for the holidays. Both he and Issei were instantly attracted to you. Oikawa noticed their attraction to you and was able to get your number in the blink of an eye. Imagine her disappointment when she learned that neither of the two numbers that texted her the next day belonged to that gorgeous brunette with big brown eyes and a voice as sweet as honey.

He and Issei made a game out of trying to woo you. In the end, you fell for Takahiro's boyish good looks and charming personality. Not that Issei wasn't charming or good looking - you just thought Takahiro had much more going for him, with his talk of wanting to be an entrepreneur and successful business man, while Issei went right into working for his parent's funeral home.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

It's then that an idea pops into Takahiro's head. He brings up his text conversation with Issei.

He sends a text: "Wanna have a threesome with me and ___?"

Issei responds almost instantly: "You serious?"

Takahiro chuckles to himself. He replies: "Let me ask her. I'll get back to you."

~~~

After your class is finished, you shower and get yourself ready for dinner. The news plays on the TV in the living room adjacent from your dining area, but you're not paying attention. You're trying to figure out why your boyfriend is so unusually quiet. He's been on his phone since the two of you sat down to eat, only taking a bite every couple of minutes.

"Hey, Hiro," you start, irritation laced through your voice. "What's wrong?"

"Issei is lonely," he says.

"That sucks," you say through a mouthful of rice.

"He needs to get laid."

You raise a brow. "Okay. How are you going to help him with that?"

"What do you think about letting him join in on our fun?"

You spit out your food.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He smirks, eyes still on his phone. "Would you fuck him?"

"Takahiro. I'm not even gonna answer that question."

Takahiro hums. "His dick is bigger than mine, you know."

Your face flushes red. "Are you really being serious right now?"

"Yeah. You know he's always had the hots for you. Don't you find him attractive? You did back then, I know that's a fact."

You pause as if to consider. "He's cute. I never liked his hair though. He needs to cut it."

Takahiro snorts. "Babe. Think about it. You already know each other, and you said having a threesome is on your list of sexual fantasies you want to try."

"How do you know about my list?!"

Takahiro skims over your question and continues. "So is that a yes or a no?"

"But he's your best friend."

"Yeah, and that's why it'll be fun!"

You really did want to check off having a threesome from your list.

You let out a huff and frown. "Let me think about it."

Takahiro beams and starts tapping away on his phone. "Okay, so is Friday good with you?"

"Takahiro!" You shout, shooting him your best crazy eyes. You grit your teeth. "I have a class Friday night. Let's do it Saturday."

Takahiro to Issei: She’s in. You free Saturday night?

~~~

Saturday finally arrives, and you and Takahiro are both getting ready to leave your apartment for the night.

"I'm gonna need alcohol before we do this," you said as you rolled on deodorant.

Takahiro is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. "Aww, you nervous, babe?" he garbled through his spit and toothpaste.

"Yes, Hiro. You're gonna be watching your best friend fuck me."

"Issei and I are cool like that. Always have been."

Silence follows, and Takahiro looks at you through the mirror. You've stopped packing your things and are sitting on your bed, gazing off into space. He frowns. "You know you don't have to do this if it's making you uncomfortable. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you're not sure you want to do."

You look up and glare back at him through the mirror. "I know that, idiot," and then you smile. "I'm just being a brat."

Takahiro rinses his mouth and gives his hair one last comb through before leaving the bathroom and walking over to you. He bends down to give you a kiss and ruffles your hair with his hand. "I love my little brat. Wouldn't have you any other way."

You reach up and cradle his face in your hands. "Love you too."

~~~

The three of you decided to have drinks at the bar in the hotel's lobby Issei had paid for your night together. You told Takahiro that you would feel more comfortable away from home, somewhere that you could let loose and not have to worry about cleaning up afterwards.

The conversation had mostly been the two of them reminiscing on their high school and college years, with you slurping your drink and giggling in between their exchanges. "You guys really chose to go to the same college so you could remain friends?"

Takahiro idly stirs his drink, keeping his eyes on you. Your cheeks are flushed red and your eyes are glossed over, an obvious sign that you were pretty buzzed. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, even offering little flirty comments Issei's way here and there. Takahiro thought it was adorable.

"Once Oikawa and Iwaizumi went away, everything got really boring. Making new friends is a pain," Issei explained. "I don't think other people would be able to handle our sense of humor. We like to make jabs at each other, and other people take things too seriously."

Takahiro hums in agreement. "I hate when people can't take a joke."

You finish your cocktail and the tiny little hiccup that escapes your lips has Takahiro looking at you with adoration. "I don't think many best friends would be down to fuck the other's girlfriend, either." You giggle.

Both men blushed at your blunt observation. Takahiro cleared his throat. "Uhh, you wanna get the check and skedaddle, Issei?"

Issei swallowed the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the table. "You always read my mind, Makki."

~~~

The three of you are stripping yourselves naked as soon as you enter the hotel room. You were the first one on the bed, waiting rather impatiently for someone to start giving you attention. Takahiro was quick to climb after you, having discarded his clothes onto the floor. He placed kisses all over your face and your neck, sucking onto your breasts and pinching your hips. You squirmed underneath his touch, curling your toes in delight.

Issei goes to sit in the chair at the side of the room, and the sound of air leaving the cushion as he plops down causes you and Takahiro to stop what you're doing and look up at Issei. "What are you doing?" Takahiro asks, confused.

"M'gonna sit back and watch you two," Issei says. "Lemme see how amazing fire crotch over here really is."

"Watch it, dickhead. I'm no fire crotch. My hair's strawberry brown, idiot." Takahiro growls, returning his attention back to you. He towers over you, eyeing you hungrily. "You ready for this, baby?"

~~~

Takahiro's got two of his fingers deep inside your cunt, pumping into your sloppy, wet heat with determination to get you all warmed up for what's to come. You feel the mattress dip behind you and shiver as a second pair of hands lands on your body. Issei finally had enough as a bystander and was ready to join the action. He presses his lips to your back, between your shoulder blades, and massages his thumbs into your hips.

"Feeling good, baby?" Takahiro mumbles into your ear.

"Mmhm," you nod, both of your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. Issei hums and slides his hands up to caress your breasts. You lean your head back against him and sigh.

"You're so soft," he says behind you, giving your nipples a squeeze. You moan.

"Tell Issei how you want to be touched," Takahiro says as he continues to work his fingers down between your legs.

"Just keep touching me like that," you breath, voice shaky.

Takahiro slides his fingers out from you and pulls back just a bit, looking at you with dark, heavy eyes. He takes in the sight of Issei's large hands enveloping your breasts, the way you pant softly through parted lips, and the rise and fall of your chest just under your collar bone. The sight makes him groan. He leans back against the headrest and strokes himself slowly.

You take one of your hands and place it over Issei's to pull it away from your breast and down to your stomach. He takes the hint and brings his fingers down further to start massaging your clit. You can feel his length pressing into the small of your back, slight moisture from the tip sticking to your skin. His fingers spread your lower lips and he smears your juices over your hole, teasing your entrance.

"Show me how good you suck Makki's dick," he mumbles against your neck.

You oblige and lean forward onto your hands, pressing one down into the mattress on each side of your boyfriend's legs.

Takahiro watches with anticipation as you lower yourself down to his hard, swollen cock. You pause to tuck your hair behind your ears and the simple action makes his heart flutter. He lets out a pleased groan as you wrap your lips around the tip.

Issei dips two of his fingers into your cunt and you moan around Takahiro's cock. He responds by placing a hand on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper.

You swirl your hips against the palm of Issei's hands like a feline swaying her tail. Takahiro's cock is deep into your mouth now, touching the back of your throat. You press your tongue against the sensitive underside as you suck your way back up, tracing the vein that protrudes through his thin skin.

Takahiro groans. "Fuck, yes," he sighs, tangling his fingers into your hair. "You are such a good girl."

Issei's roused by the sight of Takahiro melting into the bed, and suddenly feels like the luckiest guy in the world for having such a generous friend. He inserts a third finger.

You feel so full and so content. The surge of love you feel towards your boyfriend has you removing yourself from his dick to lean forward even more and plant a tender kiss to his lips. "This feels so good, Hiro," you tell him.

He grins. "I knew you'd like it, babe."

You raise yourself to stand upright on your knees and turn to meet Issei's lascivious gaze. "Let me suck you off," you say, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to stop his hand from working you any further.

"Please do," he says with a smirk. He shuffles back and collapses onto the bed, spreading his legs invitingly.

You lean down and press a kiss to Issei's stomach, then open your mouth wide to take him in. He is larger than Takahiro, so you have to widen your jaw more than what you're used to.

Takahiro watches, sliding his fingers through your hair. "You're so sexy, babe," he says, then sits up and grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He figures now is the time to start working your little pucker open. He comes to kneel behind you and pours a generous amount of lube onto your ass and spreads it through your crack. He takes a slicked up finger and circles it around your tight little hole, easing the very tip in and out as he goes. "God, I love your ass," he says before giving it a light smack.

"Her mouth is something else, Makki." Issei sighs, rolling his head back to rest against the headboard. His hip stutter and buck up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat by surprise. You grab onto his thighs and muffle a choke. "Shit, sorry," he says, but you're quick to take him back even deeper. The tickle of your nose against his stomach has him groaning loudly.

Takahiro licks his lips and slowly presses one finger into your tight hole. "Tell me if it hurts," he says, pushing his finger past his first knuckle. He pumps it slowly, feeling your muscles loosen ever so slightly. You tense when he inserts the second finger.

"Wait," you tell him, removing yourself from Issei's cock. Takahiro stops and rubs your back softly as the sting of the stretch fades away. "Okay, go ahead."

Issei inches himself back a bit to sit more upright and grabs his cock with his hand. "I'm good for now, darlin'. Just focus on feeling good." You give Issei an appreciative smile before rising up to wrap your arm around Takahiro's neck.

"More," you whisper, pushing your ass back into his hand. Takahiro inserts a third finger and you contract around him, causing a low rumble to send vibrations from his chest into your back.

Issei is back to stroking his cock as he watches Takahiro fuck his fingers into your ass. You play with your clit, the action making your legs shake. Takahiro takes his free hand and pushes yours aside, inserting his own finger into your cunt. "More," you whimper, grabbing onto his forearm. He inserts another finger, and picks up the pace.

"You feeling good, baby?" He asks you.

"So good," you whine.

Issei groans, stroking his cock faster.

Takahiro nuzzles your chin and gives you a kiss. "You wanna try riding Issei first?" he mumbles.

You nod. Takahiro removes both his hands from your body and sits back to catch his breath. You move to straddle Issei's waist and take his cock into your hand. He places both of his hands on your hips and gives you a devilish little smirk. "Ever think you'd fuck a cock bigger than his?"

You snort a laugh through your nose.

"Fuck off," Takahiro retorts from behind.

You lower yourself onto Issei's length, the stretch sending little shockwaves of pleasure through out your body. He squeezes your hips and encourages you to keep lowering your self, watching your expression the entire time.

"How's she feel?" Takahiro asks, keeping his eyes on your cunt as it swallows Issei's cock.

"Fucking amazing," he breathes, slowing rocking his hips up into you. "Not sure how long I can last."

Takahiro moves forward onto his knees. He leans over you and kisses your ear. "Think you can take two?" he says.

"Yes, please."

Issei slides down the headboard just a bit so you can hover further forward over his chest and raise your ass. You feel a wad of lube drop onto your asshole and slide down between your cheeks. Takahiro smears the liquid around inserts his finger into your hole again, just to be sure you're still ready. He removes his finger and then presses the head of his cock to your entrance. He pauses. "You good?"

"Yeah," you breathe.

He slides in slow. You have to place your hand back onto his thigh to tell him to stop while you ease into the feeling of being stretched and filled in both holes.

"Deep breaths, baby," Takahiro says, watching the muscles in your back twitch. You inhale deeply, then exhale and relax.

"Okay."

Takahiro starts to move, and Issei follows. You simply hold yourself still while both men work on finding a rhythm that lets them move together comfortably. One of your hands comes down to rest under your belly button, and you swear you feel the bulge of Issei's cock inside you.

You try taking your mind off the slight discomfort your body is feeling at such an unnatural stretch. The squelching between your legs, Issei's labored breathing as he tries so hard not to cum, the rumble of Takahiro's deep voice giving you all sorts of little praises - "good girl, you feel so good, you're doing so well, I love you so much," and your own voice getting louder as any discomfort you were feeling melts into pleasure.

"I need one of you to touch me," you say through shallow breaths, your body shaking, your hands grasping onto their arms.

"Issei," Takahiro says, quickening his pace. "Make my girlfriend cum."

Issei obliges and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles. Your body tightens up around them as you cum, moans sounding like cries as your mind struggles to handle the intensity of your orgasm,

"Oh, shit," Issei groans. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum inside," you urge.

"You sure?"

You nod, and Issei increases his pace. He grips your hips tightly and groans as his load spills inside you.

You lean forward and give him a kiss, which he can hardly return in his current state.

Suddenly you're yanked back by your hair and pressed against Takahiro's chest, his arm snaking its way around your waist to hold you against him firmly. Issei's cock leaves your body, and Takahiro gives you one good thrust, cumming long and heavy into your ass. He lets out a string of curses into your hair, holding you tight.

His chest is heaving, having emptied every last drop.

Your head spins and your thighs are numb. "Hiro... I need to lay down," you say, tapping your hand against his arm.

"Mm," is all he can mumble before letting you go. You crawl forward and curl up onto your side next to Issei. Takahiro falls to your other side and sandwiches you in the middle.

"Fuck, that was amazing," Issei says, running a hand through his damp, curly locks of hair.

Takahiro groans in agreement, pressing his palm to his forehead, eyes closed.

The three of you lay there, catching your breath.

Takahiro rolls onto his side to face you. "What'd you think, babe?" he asks.

You hum blissfully, eyes closed. "I loved it. Let's do it again sometime."

Takahiro gives your ass a squeeze in appreciation, then reaches over to slap Issei's chest.

"Ow," Issei says, opening his eyes to see Takahiro's hand hovering above his face. He raises one of his own arms and curls his hand into a fist, smacking it against Takahiro's.

You laugh. "Did you guys just fist bump?"

"Sure did," Takahiro says, grinning proudly.

You roll your already aching body over onto your stomach and stuff your face into the pillow.

"Idiots."

#hq smut #hq kinktober 2020 #hq x reader #reader x hq #hanamaki takahiro x reader #reader x hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei x reader #issei matsukawa x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut

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ceruleanmusings · 3 years

Text

First and Foremost

Fandom: Big Time Rush Pairing: James Diamond x Mickey Mason (OC) Word Count: 5.7k Summary: Mickey goes to cheer James up after a brutal verbal beating by Gustavo. Contents: mild flirting, teasing, show-standard humor, sadness Tag: @mystic-scripture @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @perhapspearl @raging-violets @lareiism @ocfairygodmother @ocappreciationtag

The bright orange vinyl began sticking to his cheek, trapping his heavy sighs against his warm skin but James didn’t care. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if he had a modeling gig to run off to so the inevitable red line pressing into his cheek could stay. It wasn’t as if he had an acting gig to prepare for so he could continue to lay flopped on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, wrinkling his clothes. It wasn’t as if he had a solo moment in a song to rehearse for so he could let his throat roll an agonized vocalization around in his chest.

He'd left Rocque Records hours ago and yet he still heard Gustavo’s shouts echoing in his head: “Stop smiling like that, I hate it!”, “A garbage disposal has better timing than you!”, “I could replace you with a mop and it wouldn’t make any difference!”, and his favorite, “Okay, do it again, but this time, SING ACTUAL NOTES!”

Clearly, Gustavo was wrong. …He had way better hair than a mop so, actually, it would make a difference!

James uttered another body wrenching sigh.

It just wasn’t fair. He spent so much time rehearsing, getting his vocals warmed up, loosening his muscles to better execute dance moves. He put his all into being a pop star! Okay, sometimes he could get distracted by the lights and the glitz and glamor but who wouldn’t? Pretty people wanted to dress him, sculpt his hair, perfect his image (not that they had to do much on that front), have them joint their ranks, put him in the spotlight where he belonged. Why was it a bad thing? When it came down to it, he wanted this. He always wanted this!

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan didn’t get it. He loved his buds, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see their eye rolls, hear their scoffs, or feel their dismissive aside glances when he talked about a potential modelling job or how he was, in fact, the best person to lead a song (or sing the whole thing, why split hairs?), or when he shared his dream of buying a house to turn it into a personal salon/display museum for his bandanas. (It makes sense to keep it all in one place!)

All he was trying to do was make his dreams a reality. It wasn’t as if he was pushing his buds off a cliff to get there. It’d happen eventually. It was inevitable. (The recognition, not the cliff-pushing.) He had the face, he had the voice, he had the talent, he had the body, he had the face. He was born for this life. He was meant to be doing this!

But no one else seemed to notice.

Groaning, James turned onto his side, tucked his arm beneath his head and curled his knees up to his chest. If Katie were around, she’d point and laugh at him, maybe say he was being a big baby or some other phrase with big words he didn’t understand. Thankfully she, the guys, and Mama Knight were off at an LA Kings game. He’d been looking forward to the game for weeks but going didn’t appeal to him after the day he had. He’d taken enough hits to watch other people get tossed around like a ragdoll.

Sometime later he heard the distinct sound of someone climbing the stairs to get to the swirly slide entrance and yet he still didn’t move. Instead, he watched dust motes float and around the shafts of gold light seeping in through the blinds.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ordinarily James would’ve jumped up at the sound of Mickey’s voice, double-checking his reflection in his lucky pocket mirror to ensure he was presentable and his muscles were at their peak. He couldn’t let her see him at anything other than his best. He was James Diamond! He didn’t do mediocre! This time, though, he stayed still, listening as she came down the swirly slide, the rubber on her docs tapping against the ground on her dismount. It was the only time she didn’t knock before entering. The door was always open, and people came and went as they pleased, but not Mickey. She made sure to knock every time. It was polite, she explained, looking at them all as if they’d been raised by wolves.

He mentally followed her footsteps—always with that cute little bounce to it—around the back of the couch heading to the island until she came into view. She dressed comfortably as always: dread locks pulled back into a half updo with gold rings and cuffs, her favorite cropped white *NSYNC hoodie depicting the image of their first album cover, dark skinny jeans, pale blue docs and a makeup-free face. She never wore makeup except for occasions where it called for it such as appearances, interviews, and photoshoots. James never thought she needed it.

“I’m just picking up my Tupp…er…ware…” He watched as Mickey’s eyebrows collided and she leaned to the side, peering at him as if she didn’t recognize him on the couch. He didn’t blame her; he was sure he wouldn’t recognize himself if he could see himself right now. “James? Are you okay?” she asked, taking a few steps closer, tucking a lock behind her ear.

James’ lips pushed out another sigh. “I’m sad,” he replied. No sense in hiding the obvious. His lower lip already dropped to a pout upon uttering the words and he couldn’t fight the wave washing over him, dragging his mood further (if that were possible).

Shoving her hands into the front of her pockets she approached. “’Cause of Gustavo?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He blinked. “That’s it.”

Her eyebrow arched. “No it’s not. I can see it all over your pretty face.” Sliding a hand out her pocket, she wiggled a pointed finger at him, motioning in circles around his face.

“Hmph. At least you think it’s pretty,” he mumbled.

She sat on the floor in front of the couch, turning her knees to the side, propping her elbow on the cushion and her cheek on her fist while turning to him. He looked back at her, taking in her freckle dotted nose. Her dark eyes squinted for a moment, mimicking the small pull to her mouth until they both relaxed. “What’s up? Besides the Gustavo part. I was wearing soundproof headphones while recording my bass lines today—I still heard him through it. And while that sucked, I know that’s not the only issue.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be alone.”

“James, you can’t go an elevator ride without needing someone to talk to.” Her mouth quirked in the corner, bolstering the tease to her words. He managed a small smile. “Speaking of which. Where are the guys?”

“They went to a Kings game.”

“Are you meeting them there?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

Her eyes widened, dark brown lighting to reflect her surprise. “You didn’t want to go to a King’s game?”

James twisted his mouth to the side, shrugging. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. Of course he wanted to go. Everything about hockey appealed to him: the crisp air filling his lungs, the crackling excitement plucking his energized nerves, the sharp snap of wood smacking against rubber, the scuffing of sharp blades on the ice, the cold adding a natural blush to his cheeks, the hot girls dressed in jerseys, the warm nacho cheese sliding down his throat, the way the bright lights lit him on his good side (both of them). But, even with the Kings and Ducks matchup, it wasn’t enough to get him off the couch.

“Well, what about hanging by the pool? It’s Golden Hour.” She reached out and poked his cheek. “Your favorite time of day.”

That was true. Nothing made his selfies better than the effect of a filter without actually having to use one. He thought about it for a second, shook his head, and sighed again. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Wow.” Her lashes fluttered due to her rapid blinking. A hum sounded behind her turned down mouth and she reached out, squeezing his knee. He felt a tug somewhere in the pit of his stomach at her touch, like a cork easing its way out of a bottle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Silence. Then: “It just doesn’t make sense!” And it all came pouring out, the frustrations and grievances. Not just from that day but from the past year and a half, from the start of it all. How they didn’t want him, they wanted Kendall. How no matter how hard he tried it wasn’t good enough. How, even though he had the talent, and knew it in his bones, it didn’t match the “fire” they looked for. How he was dragged along to form a group in a business he’d always dreamed of being in. How he was constantly shuttled back and forth between his parents, passed along like a discarded accessory. How he was overlooked time and time again (which he still wasn’t even sure how that was possible with his height and face and style.) How he was dismissed and taken as being “dramatic” when he opted not to go to the Kings game.

It was that feeling, the want—or lack thereof—which kept him glued to the couch. It seemed everyone could direct it towards anyone and anything else but him. No one chose him. No one wanted him.

The entire time he spoke Mickey stayed quiet save for the occasional hums to accompany her head nods. By the end she offered up a clicking tsk and a welcomed, “Aww, dude, I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.” She looked at him and he looked right back, wondering for a minute if they were having some sort of staring contest until he got cross-eyed and had to blink. Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh, lips curling upwards in the corners. Silence stretched between them. James’s eyes widened slightly, taking on a pointed look.

“Is that it?” James finally prompted.

“Is what it?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re not going to tell me I’m being dramatic? You’re not going to give me some advice? You’re not going to give me some pep talk?”

Mickey snorted. “And what kind of advice could I give you? To just get over it?” James nodded rapidly. “You’re upset. Telling you to get over it won’t change that. Besides, I get it.”

“You do?”

“That feeling you have to work twice as hard just to get the recognition you feel you rightfully deserve only to be overlooked?” She let out a little bitter laugh, twisting the end of one of her dreads around her finger. “Yeah. I know that feeling a little too well; life made sure of it.” A second later her eyes widened and then squinted, as if seeing something in the distance. Her eyebrows furrowed and she clicked her tongue. In a flash, she got off the floor and James watched her make quick strides to the door, opening it with a flourish only to pull it shut behind her. He stared at the swinging jackets hanging off the key shaped holder, an incredulous expression popping onto his face.

“Well thanks for the talk, Mickey! I feel so much better!” James called out to the closed door. He rolled onto his back, unfurling his legs, staring up at the tall ceiling. Geeze, first Gustavo, then his buds, and now Mickey. He thought people cared about him but clearly he was wrong! Why did he even like her in the first place?

A knock sounded on the door. Uncurling himself, James sat up, head tilting in curiosity. A second later the door opened, and a sheepish Mickey stepped through it. “Forgot, I don’t need to knock for myself,” she muttered, rubbing her palms down the legs of her jeans.

Nevermind, she came back. He liked her again.

She drummed her fingers against her thighs and then headed for the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Do you want a juice box?”

James’s head bobbed from side to side. Now that his chest didn’t feel as if it would cave in, it felt “Yeah, I could go for one.” She pulled one from the fridge and tossed it to him. He easily caught it with one hand as he swung his legs down from the couch, settling on the middle cushion facing the tv. He popped off the straw and stabbed it through the foil-covered hole on top. He didn’t pretend it was Gustavo’s face beneath the straw. Not at all. He took a long pull of the watermelon flavored drink and swallowed. It helped, but only a little.

He watched as Mickey closed the refrigerator and started opening and closing a few cabinets. She pulled a few bowls out of one and set them on the counter and then pulled open a few drawers, taking out measuring cups and spoons and knives.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Well, there’s really no point in bringing back Tupperware that’s empty is there?” She asked, eyebrows lifting. “It’s downright blasphemy.”

His stomach quivered at that. Food? She was making food? As much as a small part of him still wanted nachos from the Staples Center, he could trade it for whatever she made. If magic existed, she possessed it with how good her food turned out. Not that Mama Knight’s wasn’t a great cook herself, nothing beat her cheesy potato soup or Fishstick Fridays or her amazing snickerdoodles, Mickey just tended to make more on the dessert side. And while his body was a temple and he treated it right, sometimes the temple wanted a big fat slice of pie. To please the Gods. (Him, James was the God. No matter how much Logan disagreed, the peasant).

“What are you making? Can I have some?”

“It’s a surprise but sure. It’s gonna take me some time, though.”

James reeled in his pout and protest, as much as he hated having to wait history showed it tended to be worth it. Shifting off the couch, he opened the cabinet beneath the tv and looked at the array of DVDs staring back at him. He bypassed his usual go-tos—Die Hard, Bring it On, the Entourage series, Fast and Furious, Step Brothers, Zoolander, Marley & Me—stopping at the smaller cases on the end, holding white discs with Mama Knight’s handwriting scrawled over the surface depicting dates from a few years back. James shuffled through the cases as if they were a deck of cards, stopping on one he remembered from freshman year, near the end of the season.

The Meadowlark High Coyotes were 7-9; they needed to win at least four more games to make it to the playoffs before their season was cut short. They were down by three points at 4-6 against Willow Grove High’s Rams with ten minutes left. Kendall had been benched for fighting after getting his face smashed into the plexiglass on a breakaway (it was a cheap hit). Carlos was ejected for leaving goal to bum rush the player who executed the hit, trying to pants him. And Logan sat on the bench, his nose buried in his roster book, scribbling away, making notes for the coach to review after the game. That left him the lone wingman to turn the tide on a penalty shot and any scoring chance he obtained afterwards. Yes there was another wingman, but he may as well not have been on the ice with James taking the lead.

He popped it into the DVD player and fell back into the memory of the day, sank into the swell of cheers, the shrill whistles, the thudding beat of his heart in his ears, the rush as he glided over the ice, carrying the puck to the goal shot after shot after shot. And the chanting, oh the chanting, it may as well have been tattooed on his heart: Dia-mond, Dia-mond, Dia-mond! Only his stick slapping against the puck broke the cheering. Crack! Crack! Crack! James rushed the goal and sent the puck sailing through the air, nestling in the top right and left corners of the net, lighting the lamp. The crowd went wild. His team rushed the ice, lifting him up in the air as sirens and whistles went off.

James paused on the zoom on his face, the light in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. Someone had yanked off his helmet so they could ruffle his sweaty hair, which still looked good compared to the others, thank you very much. (Helmet hair was not something he ever had to combat, he made sure of it.)

They won. They chose him and he won. When he was picked, they all succeeded. That was the point.

He scanned backwards, watching the play in reverse, pressed play, and watched their victory unfold. Again. And again. And again. Forward, back, forward, back. Shoot, score, repeat. Every watch brought back another shot of exhilaration, another round of satisfaction pulsing through his veins. Gustavo had drained that feeling right out of him.

“What’re you watching?” Mickey’s head hung next to his as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Is that you? Oh, you were all so teeny!”

James pouted. He wasn’t teeny. Yeah, he was a couple years younger than now and had a bit of a rounder face but all the days playing hockey he’d shed his childhood weight. And he’d hit his growth spurt, so he was already taller than the guys in their class. Despite the slight sting of the comment, he answered, “Freshman year hockey game. Against our rivals, the Rams.”

“Did you win?”

James scoffed. “Of course we did!” Big Time Rush didn’t lose. Once they all joined the team, they were a force to be reckoned with. “All thanks to me, even. Kendall and the guys were benched for ‘unsportsmanlike behavior’.” His finger quotes stabbed the air as he rolled his eyes.

“Why? What’d they do?”

“Watch.” Within a few seconds the scene unfolded again: Kendall on a breakaway, for all intents and purposes prime for a good shot. Then someone from the other team bashed into him, clearly committing a foul. Kendall bounced off the plexiglass as sharp whistles and booing jeers filled the air. Cheeks red, either due to the cold or anger, Kendall threw down his stick and gloves, whipped off his helmet, and charged for a Ram. He managed a hit on one before two Rams came up, grabbed him, threw him into the plexiglass again, and squished his face against it, dragging it from side to side. Mickey sucked a hissing breath in between her teeth, face scrunching up to a look of pain.

“That looked like it hurt.”

“Hurt worse when the guy wasn’t even called for it—the refs were from their town,” James explained at the look of disbelief crossing her face. “But I get the penalty shot and score more goals to clinch the win for us.”

“Bet that felt good.”

He shrugged. Good wasn’t the right word. Amazing wasn’t the right word. He didn’t think a word existed to properly encompass how that day felt. He paused the video and scanned it backwards again, his thumb hovering over the play button as his eyes took in their reflections on the tv screen. Namely how close she leaned to his head. Turning to her, he eyed her close-up profile. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so,” James said with a flirtatious smile. Motioning to her with the remote he added, “You don’t have to come up with an excuse to get close.”

Her head tilted to the side, her studying him this time. “Would it make you feel better?”

He blinked. Uh…what? That wasn’t what she was supposed to say. That wasn’t how things went with them. He’d flirt, she’d rebuff him, he’d try again later. That’s how their friendship worked, among both agreeing blue was, in fact, a flavor (suck it, Logan!), her helping him with English homework while he helped her with vocal work, taking trips to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients (her for her cooking, him for his organic, clean, homemade facial mask), and splitting the s’mores skillet at Fun Burger on his cheat day. Not that he didn’t like this turn of events, he wasn’t stupid. Okay, so he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the spotlight, but he wasn’t that stupid.

Still, he shook his head and pinched his arm to be sure this wasn’t some sort of dream, that she had, in fact, asked if kissing him would make him feel better. His fingers pressed into his skin and a pinch of pain shot up his arm. His eyes widened. He was definitely awake!

“Uh…sure?” He mentally admonished himself, hearing how unsure he sounded. Who talked like that? Not him, that’s for sure. He was much cooler than that. He cleared his throat, deepened his voice, turned his eyes to smolder, and said, “I mean, yeah. We could give it a shot.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

He did as he was told, eyes slamming shut. James’ chest swelled and relaxed as he took in and let out a long breath. Not that he was nervous. He’d kissed plenty of girls before. Hell, once he’d kissed three girls in a half hour (thank you spin the bottle!) So this was nothing to worry about. No big deal. It’s just Mickey. Just the girl he’d been into for the past year. His palms sweating had nothing to do with it, that happened sometimes. Not a lot. Okay, never. Not when it came to kissing girls. So it had to be some sort of new medical condition he’d need to get looked at. Along with the shaking. And his heart thudding against his chest. He made a mental note to get that looked at too.

He felt her hovering in front of him, close enough for that strange sensation to itch and curl beneath his skin, anticipation cracking like a livewire. A strong swoop lurched in his stomach when she asked “Ready?”, so close he smelled something sweet on her breath. Vanilla? A lock of her hair brushed against the side of his face, sending a shot of something pleasant down his spine.

He nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. (Not too wet, not too dry. Couldn’t have her thinking his lips were like sandpaper.) Breath? He thought back. Last thing he ate were a few ants-on-a-log back at the studio. Peanut Butter wasn’t what he’d go with, but it would do in a pinch.

Okay. You’re James Diamond! You’re in a world-famous band! You have great hair! You have great style! You have great lips! They’re perfectly pouty and pink and fantastic. It’s just a kiss. You can do this. Annnd….go!

James leaned forward, pursing his lips. Something touched his lips. His eyebrows lowered. Huh, her lips were a lot colder than he’d imagined. Just as smooth, though. And a little…pointy? What? Before he could react, something gave way and shot between his teeth, heading to the back of his throat. He coughed, the object shooting forward, bouncing on his tongue.

His eyes popped open, granting him the sight of Mickey and her shit-eating grin. His tongue rolled the object around in his mouth, smooth on all sides except for one point. A rush of chocolate swarmed his taste buds. A Hersehey’s kiss. He blinked, staring up at her.

“Did the Earth move for ya, honey?” she asked sweetly, her soft southern accent igniting the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Very funny,” James grumbled, chewing the cold bit of chocolate into small pieces. It melted fast on his tongue. Pushing a hand through his hair, he flopped back against the couch, doing his best to avoid her gaze. But that smile, so bright and satisfied, drew him back in and he found his frown lifting upwards.

Still grinning, she dropped down on the couch next to him. He noticed the plate in her hands, the surface covered with an array of purple swirls and designs resting atop white sponge dotted with color.

Funfetti cupcakes. His favorite.

She was forgiven.

------

“She moves left, she moves right, she goes left again-oh! Fake out! She’s on a breakaway! There’s no one standing between her and the net! Will she make it?” With a lunge, Mickey slapped a pretzel rod against the Oreo in the middle of the table. James dropped to his knees, opening his mouth in time for the cookie to slide against the smooth surface, coast past his teeth, and land on his tongue. Goal! “She does! She scores! And the Missles are the table hockey champions of the world!” Throwing her arms into the air, Mickey danced a little victory jig, chomping the pretzel rod in her hand as if putting an exclamation point at the end of a sentence.

Chuckling, James chewed the Oreo. Ordinarily he would already be mentally preparing his routine at the gym the next day to counteract all the sugar he’d eaten but he could skip it for one day. Tossing his own pretzel rod onto the table—he wasn’t going to make an exception for sodium, not when bloat could set in—he stood, brushing any miniscule bit of dirt off his knees. “Why didn’t you go to the hockey game again?” he asked.

Mickey’s eyebrow arched and she waved her hand around the room, motioning to the table, the leftover cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter, and Bring it On playing on the tv in the background “And miss out on all this fun?” She winked and took another bite of the pretzel rod. “Not a chance.”

James smiled, a rush of warmth spreading through him.

The door burst open; Carlos, Kendall, and Logan rushed in, hooting, and hollering, waving towels and hats in a flurry. Katie and Jennifer entered behind them, wearing identical expressions, half of amusement and half of wariness.

“Hey guys,” Mickey greeted them, walking around the table. “How was the game?” Her answer came as a wall of sound when Kendall, Carlos, and Logan screamed in her face. Blinking rapidly, she wiggled a finger in her ear as she leaned away from them. “That good, huh?”

“It was awesome!” Carlos shouted. “First the Ducks were in the lead and then the Kings caught up to them but then the Ducks were in the lead again! And during the ice cleanings Bailey and Wild Wing came out and got into a shootout. And then they played musical chairs which is silly, you know, because why would animals need to sit on chairs—ooh! Cupcakes!” Breaking off, he made a dashing dive for the kitchen counter.

“Those are mine!” James shouted, making Carlos freeze with a cupcake halfway to his mouth. A whimpering sound fell out of his mouth as he looked back and forth between James and the cupcake.

“Be nice, there’s enough for them to have one,” Mickey said, rubbing James’s arm. “Go ahead, Carlos.” She barely finished her sentence when Carlos stuffed it into his mouth, paper still attached.

“Dude.” Kendall bumped James on the arm with the back of his hand. “We had to keep Carlos from tackling Bailey the lion for thumping Wild Wing’s bill in the stands. Could’ve used you to hold him back.”

“Is that the only reason?” James asked.

Kendall scoffed. “Of course not! I had no one else to cringe with when they messed up the National Anthem. You weren’t there to list off every stat for the Kings or the Ducks—down to what conditioner they most likely used.” James pushed a laugh out of his nose. “After the game ended, they let us skate around for a bit. T’somethin’ I always dreamed about, skating one of the biggest NHL rinks. Wasn’t the same without my wingman there to catch my passes without fail.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re sorry we didn’t take your feelings seriously. Gustavo was rough on you today. We should’ve stayed with you, made sure you were okay.”

“You didn’t think I was being overdramatic?”

“Oh no, we totally did,” Kendall said, making James roll his eyes, “but halfway through the game I remembered that you get like that when it comes to things that are important to you. And it’s not fair for me, for us, to push that aside. So I’m sorry. We cool?” He extended his hand,

“We’re cool. You know I can’t stay mad at my bud,” James replied, clasping Kendall’s hand to pull him into a quick hug.

“And on that note, it’s time for me to go,” Mickey said, squeezing past them. Clutched in her hands were two Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes. “Are you feeling better?” Kendall’s eyes quickly ping-ponged between the two; he mumbled something about needing to polish his hockey puck and backed away.

James’ mind quickly scanned through a list of things he could say to keep her around a little longer. He came up with nothing. “I am, yeah,” James admitted. “Thanks for sticking around and keeping me company, Mickey.”

“Any time. If you ever want a rematch against the Missles, you know where to find me. We’ll be ready for you Diamondheads.” Leaning past James, she called out “see you, guys!” only to get distracted hand waves back from Kendall, Carlos, Logan, and Katie as they watched the game highlight on the news. She shrugged. “See ya, James,” she said, quickly tilting her fingers at him in a rippling wave.

He waved back, watching as she left the apartment. The door closed with a soft click. James turned on his heel only to stop in his tracks, noticing every pair of eyes in the room pointed on him. Eyebrows crinkling, his head tilted to the side. Usually he deserved attention, basked in it even, but he wasn’t sure what he did to get it this time. “What?” he finally asked.

“You were here with Mickey alone all afternoon,” Kendall said. “What happened?”

James shrugged, approaching the couch. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. We talked, watched some hockey, and messed around.”

“So you never hit on her?” Logan asked.

Kind of. “No, not really.” Hershey kiss substitutes didn’t count.

“Dude! This was your chance!” Carlos sprayed bits of uneaten cupcake out of his mouth as he shouted. Uttering a noise of disgust, Logan wiped the side of his face, shooting such a scathing look at Carlos it made him behind Katie. James laughed at the sight.

“Yeah, that’s not like you, James. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Kendall said.

“I’m feelin’ great, guys, really,” he assured them. “Gimmie another cupcake.” As he reached for the plate in Katie’s hand, he spotted something white under the pillow Kendall leaned against. He yanked it out with one strong pull. “Oh shoot,” he muttered. He got a series of asynchronous what?s answered him. “It’s Mickey’s sweatshirt. She forgot it.”

“Give it to her tomorrow. She’ll be at the studio,” Kendall pointed out.

James took in Kendall’s nonchalance with an incredulous shake of his head. He couldn’t do that. Well…he could but he couldn’t. Even if the built-in excuse for her to come back to the apartment was enticing, he wouldn’t feel right holding onto it. Not when he knew of her attachment to it, not just due to how soft and comfortable the sweatshirt was but to the band as well. When he thought about not having his Lucky Comb on him, even for a second, it sent shivers down his spine.

“No, I’ll just try and catch her at the elevator.” Clutching the sweatshirt tight in his hands, James dashed for the door. It barely opened far enough for him to fit through before he found himself out in the hall. He ran around a corner, nearly clipping it, slowing when he heard Mickeys’ voice.

“Thanks again for being so understanding. I know it was last minute…”

“Girl, it’s okay,” Jo said back. Hmm? James peered around the corner, spying Mickey and Jo standing in front of the elevator doors. She clutched a rolled-up script in her hand. “We can always go another day. It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks. James just looked so…defeated.” Mickey’s nose wrinkled. “It’s weird. I’ve never seen him like that before. I just…I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“I get it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being there for a friend,” Jo said, waving her hand in the air. “Buut…you’ll also be extra forgiven if I can have a cupcake.” Her eyebrows wiggled as she tapped a quick rhythm on the Tupperware lid.

Mickey laughed, popping the lid. “No problem.”

Jo eagerly dove for a cupcake, peeling the paper off halfway before taking a bite at the base of the treat. She brought a finger up to her mouth as she chewed, wiping away a stray smear of cream cheese frosting. “So…you must really like James to cancel going to that pie making class you’d been looking forward to for weeks.”

What!? James pressed his lips together, biting on them. The pulse of pain fell into sync with his rapid heartbeat. Jo’s lips curled in the corners and, beneath the hallway lighting, James swore he saw devil horns pop up on her head.

Mickey rolled her eyes. James squinted. Was that a blush on Mickey’s cheeks or a trick of the light? “Don’t even start with me, I gotta deal with all that at home.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Mickey stepped backwards into the elevator, jabbing at a button with her elbow. “…And I don’t not like him. But don’t tell anyone that!”

Jo mimed zipping her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Swallowing the yelp fighting to shoot up his throat, James turned and headed back to 2J. He slipped into the apartment under the noise of aliens and troopers getting blown up in Biohazard 5 and Carlos’ jeers as he held his hand in front of Logan’s face.

“Did you catch her?” Kendall yelled over the noise, eyes glued to the tv.

“No, I missed her.” James made a beeline for the bedrooms, a soft smile sitting upon his lips. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

#let me tell you i have a ball writing james' internal dialogue #james diamond #mickey mason #big time rush #big time rush oc #not beta read #my writings #mickames #first and foremost

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (2)

OMG! Part 2 is here!!

I'm still finishing up two other fics, and this one's on the back burner for a little while. I apologize for pauses between uploads. I hope that makes it worth it!

Ao3 | FF.net

Plagg arrived at school on foot, which startled several people.

Of course, his choice of dress could have influenced that as well.

"Dude, what are you wearing? And…did you walk to school?"

Plagg held out a second coffee to Nino. "Yep. And as for what I'm wearing, I picked what I thought would make my father the angriest."

"Did it?"

Plagg turned around. "I'm not bleeding am I? I had to break a window to get out of the house."

"Dude!"

"So am I bleeding or what?"

"N-no, you're not. But what's gotten into you? You usually fold like a paper crane when it comes to your dad."

"Ooh, nice analogy. I'm usually pretty partial to Jello left out on the counter at room temperature, when it gets all melty and chunky."

Nino blinked. "I repeat, what's gotten into you?"

"Just tired of being a doormat."

Nino gave a little punch to his shoulder. "Hell yeah, stick it to the man!"

"But my dad's not the only problem I'm trying to fix."

"Oh?"

"You know Lila's a pathological liar, right? And that she's been sexually harassing me for the better part of a year?"

"WHAT?!" Nino shouted.

"Yeah, she's really good at manipulating people to get what she wants. Like how she got herself invited to my photoshoots. Don't know how that happened but it's super unprofessional. Also, she got Marinette expelled. Remember when she said Marinette pushed her down the stairs and garbage? Total lies. She only backed out of it when I threatened our 'friendship'."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?! Lila's been babysitting Chris! And Ella and Etta! She said she was a certified babysitter!"

"I mean, Marinette's been telling everyone she's a liar for a while. So…"

"Well…" Nino rubbed the back of his head.

"Well what? What reason did Marinette give you to doubt her?"

Nino winced. "…I can't really tell you…it's not my place, and Alya will kill me."

Plagg threw his arms up in the air with a groan, nearly splashing coffee on his crop top. "Is there no communication with you people!? Just talk! Enough with the secrets!"

Nino blinked. "Uh…what other secrets are you talking about?"

Plagg shook his head, realizing he'd spilt a few beans. And some things really did need to remain secret. "Ugh, whatever. Doesn't matter. You just…spill!"

"No way dude! Marinette's my friend, and I won't tell her secrets without her permission!"

Plagg rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good dude, you know?"

"Oh so now it's a good thing that I'm hiding stuff from you? Pick a mood."

Instead, Plagg took a sip from his coffee. Having a human tongue again was so weird. It was a complexed organ with equal taste buds, instead of the 'smelly savory' he was used to as a kwami.

And if Adrien didn't like cheese, it wouldn't be likely that Plagg would still enjoy it in his body. His eyes glanced around the entrance of the school, taking notice of all the people who were side-eyeing him. Nearly everyone had their attention on him and Nino, though they were trying to be sneaky about it.

Humans were so funny.

And then he noticed Marinette approaching. She looked awful. Big bags under her eyes, dragging her feet, slouched shoulders. The look of a guardian who was downtrodden and exhausted.

"Hey Nino, wanna see something hilarious?"

"Absolutely."

"Here, hold this." He handed him his coffee. Then he tighten the sleeves of the flannel around his waist and ran full speed at Marinette, his arms out at his sides. "MAAAARRRRIIIINNEEETTTEEE!" He shouted.

Hearing her name being shouted startled the poor girl, and she seized up, holding her arms to her chest. Plagg collided with her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug and lifting to spin her around several times.

"Ad-d-d-rrrriiieennn!" She exclaimed, as she was rag dolled around.

Finally, he set her back on her feet and patted her on the head. "Sorry, you looked like you needed an extreme hug."

A big smile emerged on her face, accompanied by a very endearing blush. "Thanks Adrien. I did! I feel better now!"

Plagg knew it would take more than an intense hug to fix everything on Marinette's plate. There was likely more bothering her than just the loss of Master Fu, too. But he was out to fix Adrien's problems, not hers. But hopefully, one of his problems would directly help her.

"Um…" Marinette started, looking him up and down. "Your father let you out of the house like that?"

"Oh, absolutely not. I snuck out."

"Adrien!" She gawked.

"It'll be fine." He waved her off.

Alya approached them, her jaw on the floor. "Adrien, what was that?"

Nino was just a step behind her, giggling.

"Have you never seen an epic hug before? Nino, you need to step up your game."

"I guess I do!" Nino chuckled. "Here's your coffee back, dude."

"Thanks." Plagg took the coffee with one hand while the other stayed firmly over Marinette's shoulder.

"You're being kind of friendly with Marinette this morning, aren't you?"

Plagg shrugged. "I just happen to think her shoulder is a really nice arm rest."

"Did you ask her permission?"

"Oh, you know, I didn't. Can I put my arm around you, Marinette?"

Marinette's giant panicked grin and a high pitch squeal was the only response he got.

"I'll take that as a yes." He squeezed her.

"Oh!" Alya chirped, taking out her phone. "Lila had an akuma in her room last night! Ladybug and Chat Noir stayed afterwards and hung out with her afterwards to make sure she was okay! She gave me this interview for my blog—"

"FAKE NEWS!" Plagg shouted, startling everyone around him. Alya almost dropped her phone.

"What?" She asked.

"I said, Fake News. There was no akuma last night."

"How do you know?" Alya got defensive. "The akuma alarm only goes off when someone sees the akuma. It happened so late last night, that no one was awake."

"I have an akuma sixth sense." Plagg explained, ignoring Adrien pinching his thigh inside his shirt. "But besides that, Lila is a big, bold-faced liar."

Alya sighed, rolling her eyes. "I expect that from Marinette, but you too now?"

"I've always known Lila was a liar, but I tried to play nice because she's super destructive when she wants to be. Just look at what she did to Marinette!"

Alya gave Marinette a once over, looking for injuries. "I don't follow."

Plagg huffed. "The expulsion? Surely you're not dumb enough to believe that Lila has some sort of disease that makes her…what did she say? Periodically lie? Misremember? I can't even remember what she said, but she revoked her evidence to get Marinette back into school."

Alya frowned. "She told me she was taking the heat for whoever this real person is. Someone wanted Marinette out of school, and Lila retracted her evidence because she knows Marinette wouldn't do that stuff."

Plagg blew a loud raspberry at her, making spittle fly into her face. "Of course she told you that, because she can't possibly be seen as the villain."

"What are you getting at, Adrien?"

"I'm the reason Lila retracted her evidence. She targeted Marinette. She's been targeting Marinette. I gave her an ultimatum. She could stop lying about Marinette, or I would retract our supposed 'friendship' and get her removed from modeling with me."

Alya and Nino just blinked at him several times, before Alya shouted, "WHAT?!"

"Yeah, like I said, I didn't say anything because I didn't want her to get akumatized, she may have turned on me, and I assumed eventually she'd lie herself into a hole and everyone would figure her out. But I guess everyone is denser than I expected."

"Harsh, bro."

"Nah. You'll thank me for this. Especially you, Alya. You want a reputable blog, right? What am I saying? You, of course, double check all of your sources! And if someone makes any outlandish claims that could get someone in trouble, you don't just post them willy-nilly. That's why I like you, Alya, you're discerning and thorough!"

Alya opened her mouth to retort, but shut it right after. "Yeah. Thanks." She finally said.

Marinette groaned. "Here comes the devil herself."

Lila sashayed up to the group, wrapping her arms around Plagg and yanking him free from Marinette. "Adrien! It's so good to see you this morning! I had such a fun time at the shoot—"

Plagg didn't let her finish before he forcefully ripped himself out of her grasp. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

His shout drew attention from everyone else around.

Lila laughed it off awkwardly. "Oh Adrien, you scared me! I'm not going to hurt you." And she reached for him again.

But Plagg danced away from her, behind Marinette and shouted. "HEY DON'T TOUCH ME THERE! THIS IS MY NO-NO SQUARE!"

Marinette was the only one that laughed, but it was mostly just a choked snort.

"What are you talking about?" Lila asked, pouting, "I wasn't touching you anywhere bad."

"R-A-P-E! GET YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM ME!"

"I think maybe you should keep your hands to yourself," Marinette said gently.

The flittering rage on Lila's face went ignored by Alya and Nino. "I'm not sure what's going on. Adrien's just being kind of goofy today."

"I agree," said Nino. "You break out of your house, now this? This is more than not being a doormat."

Plagg realized he may have taken things a bit too far too fast, and that his cover was in danger of being blown.

"Well! Would you look at the time! I gotta piss! See you in class!" And he took off running into the school.

Being inside a pocket meant that he didn't always see what direction Adrien went. But the bathroom was easy enough to find once he double backed on himself.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. And Adrien emerged the second the stall closed. "What did I say!? You wouldn't last five minutes! Everyone is suspicious of you! And what was that thing with Marinette? I thought you were going to fix my problems with Ladybug!"

Plagg held up his hands in defense. "Relax. I just got a little ahead of myself. You know, taking advantage of the situation?"

"What situation?"

"Alya brought up Lila, not me! I couldn't pretend to care! I can't even pretend to care about your problems and I love you!"

"Aw, Plagg. You love me?"

"That's what you got out of that?"

"I knew you were a big softy."

"You know who's actually soft? You." He poked his stomach. "That's what's got you in the situation in the first place!"

"Um, I'd argue it was your trickery."

"So you're soft and gullible. Got it."

"Hey!"

"Like I said last night, kid: You've only been on this planet for 15 years, and social for one. You're bound to be a little naïve. That's not necessarily a bad thing. Tikki would say it's honorable."

"And what would you call it?"

Plagg put a finger to his mouth in mock thought. "Unfortunate."

Adrien sighed, losing altitude. "You still didn't answer my question about Marinette."

"Trust me, getting cosy with Marinette is the key to solving your Ladybug trouble."

"You better not flirt with her! I don't like her that way, and I don't want to break her heart."

"You say that now…"

The bathroom door opened, so Plagg was quick to usher Adrien back into the pocket. "I'll roll it back a little, happy?"

"Not in the slightest."

—

Plagg appeared in the classroom just in time for class to start.

"YO, WHAT IS UP MY DUDES!?" He called, walking into the room with a beat in his step.

The scoff from his pocket went unnoticed by everyone else.

"Adrien, you know I'm not a fan of yelling in my classroom." Miss Bustier warned, patiently.

"Sorry Teach."

"And your outfit is outside of the dress code. Do you have something that covers your mid-drift?"

"No problems there, baby." He untied the flannel from around his waist, and slipped it over his shoulders, then buttoned the bottom few buttons, unaligned. "There, Gucci right?"

She raised an eyebrow, "And the sunglasses?"

"Sorry teach, I've got a major migraine and, low-key, kind of want to die. Glasses stay on, or I will cry."

Miss Bustier just sighed. "As long as you're not disrupting my class, I suppose that's fine."

"Sick." And he slid into his desk, propping his shoes up on the table.

"Sit in your chair like a normal person, please."

Plagg had to glance around to see how everyone else was sitting before he corrected his posture.

Now that he was wearing the flannel, it was a lot less comfortable for Adrien to be in the pocket. He poked and prodded at Plagg's chest to be moved. Thankfully, Plagg had mercy on him and scooped him from his pocket and deposited him into his bag.

From the bag, Adrien tried to watch Plagg, but he seemed to settle down once Miss Bustier started the lesson. Was he even taking notes?

"Plagg!" A sharp hiss came from his side, before a red kwami appeared.

"Tikki?" He choked.

"What the heck is going on with your holder?! He's acting really really weird!"

"Um…"

"My holder is worried about him!"

"She is? She saw all that?"

Tikki huffed. "How could she not?! She's right there!" And she made the fatal mistake of pointing at Marinette.

In hindsight, it was pretty obvious. He had guessed before, and he had hunches, but she had very cleverly removed herself from suspicion during Kwami Buster with Multimouse.

"Oh…that's why he said buttering up to Marinette would solve my Ladybug problem."

Tikki frowned. "What are you talking about? Who said what?"

Adrien awkwardly scratched his ear. "Heh…it seems there's been a tiny mix up. I'm not—" but a bunch of bubbles came out of his mouth. "Ugh. I'm Adrien."

Tikki's eyes grew impossibly large. "YOU'RE—" she grabbed him and yanked him down, phasing into the steps below.

It was an odd sensation, one that he didn't get to think about before Tikki was yelling at him. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE ADRIEN?! You're supposed to be Plagg! And only Plagg!"

"I don't know! It all happened so fast! Last night we had an argument about my problems and he said it wasn't that big of a deal and I said he wouldn't be able to handle it and he said he'd fix it right away and then he made some pact and then I woke up like this and he was like that and I don't know what to do!"

"Okay, first, take a breath." She instructed, calmly.

He did so, taking another, and another, "okay...okay...I'm calm."

"Okay. Good. Now, what were the conditions of the pact?"

"I...I'm not sure? He said he was going to fix three big problems of mine."

"Which are?"

"Repairing my relationship with my father."

"Yikes. Okay, and?"

"Getting Lila to stop bothering me."

"Okay, what else?"

"And get Ladybug to love me back."

"That dirty rotten cheater!" She scowled.

"What?"

"Ugh," she rubbed her nubs over her head. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Um...sure."

"Plagg and I both knew how you felt about..her. We had a running bet who would fall for who first, Adrien for Marinette, or Ladybug for Chat Noir."

He frowned at her. "I thought you were the mature one."

"I am. But I'm also thousands of years old. Teenager's love lives are like…corny TV shows for me. Besides, we're not supposed to meddle in the affairs of the human world." She glanced up towards the stairs, where Plagg was sitting on the other side.

"Does he do this a lot?"

"Not every wielder, but many."

"And…does it always work out?"

She was quiet a long time. "More often than not."

"But he has failed before?"

"There was one time where the contract was too difficult and he and his holder switched bodies until the holder's body died. At which point, Plagg's consciousness expelled the human's soul from the kwami's body and they perished."

"Jesus actual Christ."

"No, it wasn't him. Nice guy though! Very wise!"

"That's not what I—" He sighed. "Look, is there anyway to undo this? He's ruining so much!"

"I'm really sorry Adrien, but the only way to get switched back into your body is to complete the pact."

Adrien growled. "He could have at least given me a heads up! He just said he'd 'handle it'. I didn't know we'd switch bodies!" He slammed his paws into his face.

"Look, I'll tell Marinette as soon as possible, maybe she'll know what to do."

"No! Tikki you can't tell her!"

"I have too. As guardian, she must be aware of all the shenanigans that the Kwami's are getting into. She has to know about this."

"But she can't!" He begged. "This is all my fault! I was naïve and dumb and I didn't think things through—" He moaned. "She's going to be so disappointed with me!"

Tikki poked him hard. "Adrien. This is not your fault! This is Plagg's doing. He's tricky, and can be very selfish sometimes. She can't blame you."

"Please Tikki, I know she's going to figure me out sooner or later. Plagg's doing a really bad job."

"I'll say."

"But when that happens, I'll come clean and explain everything myself. But until then, can you just…pretend like nothing is wrong?"

Tikki sighed. "I hate keeping secrets from her. But, fine. Since you asked so nicely. Maybe you'll get your body switched back before she suspects."

He winced. "Ugh, except one of the conditions of the pact is to get Ladybug to fall in love with me. And if he's trying to get Lady-nette to fall in love with him, then if we switch back, she'll be in love with Plagg-me and not me-me!"

"Um…I don't think that's going to be a problem…"

"Wait, what?"

"You remember that TV show where they went into her room and your photos were everywhere?"

"She said she just liked fashion…and she promised she wasn't lying…"

"It was a half truth, at least. She does like fashion, and you are her favorite model. But…that other boy she keeps rejecting Chat for? That's you."

If a blush could be seen on black fur, he'd be the same color as Tikki. "What? Really? How come she never told me!?"

"Oh, she tried. Remember when you brought her medicine back from England?"

"Yeah?"

"That prescription she gave you was for Master Fu. She gave the pharmacist the love letter she was supposed to give you after you got on the train."

"Oh no!"

"The wax statue incident? That was her practicing. That beret from a 'brazilian fan'? That was from her. That blue scarf your father got you for your birthday? That was also from her. She's tried, Adrien. But she's either chickened out, or something's gone horrendously wrong."

"Oh Marinette…" His ears went flat, his heart breaking for her. "All this time?"

"Since you gave her your umbrella in the rain when you first met."

"Oh no! That long!? My poor lady!"

"And she's been trying to get over you since she thinks you're in love with Kagami. So I'm assuming Plagg's trying to convince her that you like her instead."

Since he awoke in this strange little useless body, Adrien was pissed at Plagg. But now he was beginning to realize how big of a favor this was. How close he had been to losing her, and hopefully it wasn't too late.

Still sucked though.

"Oh god…he's going to have to talk to Kagami too! I don't know if I can bear to watch this!"

"Well, you don't really have a choice. And you stand a pretty good chance of getting your body back soon. I…think Plagg knows what he's doing."

"You think?"

"I hope."

"Ugh…"

"Look, if you need help, you know where to find me. I'll be in my holder's bag here at school. Though, today, unless there's an akuma, I'll sit with you in your bag and tell you whatever you need to know about being a Kwami."

"Oh yeah! How is superheroing going to work? How do I transform?"

"It'll probably be the same. He'll say your name instead of his own. Then you'll get to see what he sees and hear what he hears. Cataclysm draws from this body's form, so he'll call on it when he needs it, as well as your other powers."

"Other powers?"

"Sure. There's more than just Cataclysm. But I'm sure he's waiting to teach you them until you're ready."

"To be honest...he never really taught me Cata—"

Tikki was quick to slap a paw over his mouth. "DON'T SAY IT!"

"Oh, is it like transformed rules? You say it, you activate it?"

"Yes, but in this form it's incredibly powerful, and you don't know how to dismiss it! You activate it and bump into something, and you nuke Paris! That is a forbidden word!"

"Okay! I'll take your word for it."

"We should probably get back up top, no telling what trouble Plagg's gotten into already."

"But we're in class. He should just be sitting there."

"You're underestimating Plagg's attention span."

Phasing back up through the floor and into Adrien's bag, they could hear Adrien's voice.

"...and of course you're not even going to talk about the ramifications of Phillip the V's denial of his niece on the throne."

"Louis X's daughter? She never took the french throne."

"Oh, yes she did! She held it for 6 years in 1316, Phillip only recanted her name after her rule was revoked. Furthermore, after she died, her legitimacy as Louis' blood relative was called into question. Her mother was branded as an adulterer."

Miss Bustier hummed. "I never heard of this. Where did you read this, Adrien?"

"Oh I didn't read it, I saw it—in a documentary! That's right! On the Hundred Year War! That's right!"

"You'll have to tell me what that documentary is, I'm very interested to see that! But you were saying something about Louis X's daughter on the throne?"

Adrien had to refrain from smacking himself in the face. Not 15 minutes into class, and Plagg was already rewriting history.

Had they even gotten to the Hundred Years War?

A knock saved Adrien from second hand embarrassment.

"Come in," called Miss Bustier.

Adrien couldn't see who was at the door, but they were being silent.

"Um…can I help you?"

There was a grunt.

"You're here for Adrien?"

Adrien, in kwami form, peered out ever so carefully from his bag, only to see the Gorilla standing in the front of the room.

Uh oh.

"...hey big guy..." Plagg tried to greet as enthusiastically as he could.

Another grunt, and the Gorilla motioned towards the door with his head.

"Sorry, but I'm in the middle of class. We were just discussing the conditions that led up to the Hundred Years War. I know dad's pissed that I left this morning, but I'll be home after school..."

The Gorilla shook his head and started to advance on him, his hands open and making to grab him.

Plagg however, was not above evasive maneuvers. He hopped up on the desk.

"You'll never take me alive!"

The Gorilla never stopped advancing and shot his arms out to grab Plagg by the waist.

But Plagg leapt from the table and landed on the Gorilla's shoulders, riding him like a bull.

The Gorilla swung around, flailing his arms trying to dislodge Plagg from where he was mounted, but Plagg dug his heels in and held fast.

"YEEEEEEEEEE—HAW!"

The Gorilla bucked and swung, making Plagg rag doll around, but he still would not let go!

Finally, starting to get dizzy, Plagg twisted in place and pinched the bodyguard in a particular place on the shoulder, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, unconscious, on the floor.

Plagg simply climbed off of him, dusted himself off, and took his seat. "Now...where were we?"

"Principal's office. Now."

@chaosace-e @horson @consumeconstantly @percabeth @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @ezio-demon @judyhopps934-mt-zd @wannajointhecrabcult @buggaboy27 @starpony999 @bevvydraws @lavenderjunes

#fanfiction #I'll handle this #miraculous ladybug #body swap #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #plagg is a little shit #ml

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avondione · 4 years

Text

the devil wears agreste

[ miraculous ladybug // 2580 words ]

the best place to hide is in plain sight.

unfortunately for him, some people know exactly what to look for.

❁ ❁ ❁

Felix Graham de Vanily could be called many things — a magician, a thief, a liar — it was all a matter of perspective, really. But he wasn’t anything if not thorough.

He had mastered that relaxed smile and lackadaisical gait. He had perfected that crooked curl of his hair, that cheery tone of voice. He had practiced walking in his shoes, his clothes, practiced until even his reflection was fooled into showing someone else. He was his carbon copy. And yet—

“Felix!” The pig-tailed girl marched up to him with all the ferocity of a baby rabbit. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Wide eyes and a startled smile, he tilted his head in that annoyingly naive way his darling cousin always does. The furrow of his brow frustratingly genuine, but he supposed it worked for this particular act of confusion. “I’m just talking to a fan.”

She stared. “I’m pretty sure Adrien told you to stop dressing as him.”

His smile never faltered, even as he excused himself to the confused fan, grabbing the girl and leading her away with an iron grip. She was wise enough not to struggle, but the glare burning the back of his head was almost impressive.

“Marinette,” he could hardly recall her name. “I have no idea—”

“Cut it out,” she all but demanded. “I know it’s you, Felix.”

He dropped his smile with a glare. The scowl twisted his features to an expression Adrien would never make, but he could hardly care with the defiant girl frowning up at him like he had done something wrong. He scoffed. Who exactly did she think she is?

“Really now?” he rose a brow with a crooked curl of his lips. “Pray tell, what gave it away?”

“Adrien would never say things like that, especially to a fan!”

“Say things like what, exactly?”

He leaned back into the shade of the tree, watching as the girl regarded him with the same amount of venom. If she was getting frustrated, she did her best not to show it, jaw set and standing tall, speaking to him as if they were equals. Pathetic, really.

But then she placed her hands on her hips and smirked, voice condescendingly sweet, practically belittling him with every word. She had his way of speaking, word choice, down to the inflection of his voice, memorized. It was all valid information he hadn’t even considered, and the thought that this girl managed to call him out because of it? Inconceivable.

So he forced himself to smile sadly, apologizing, the perfect image of remorse painted on his face. And he reached out, gently brushing her hair away—

“Don’t touch me,” she bit out, and he found himself stepping back. She stepped forward, finger pressing into his chest, pushing him further and further back until he was trapped against the tree. “Don’t ever touch me again,” she hissed.

Blue. Her eyes were strikingly blue. Furious, as if he was staring at the depths of the raging sea. They glared at him, and for a moment, he could have sworn he recognized that bright blue gaze.

She turned away, sauntering off without sparing a glance back.

He stood there. Worked his jaw. Eyes following after her disappearing figure. Oh, he definitely remembered her now. One of those girls who sent a video to cheer up his darling little cousin. Pathetic, he scowled. Perceptive, his mind corrected.

“Hey dude!” A glasses-wearing boy greeted him with an arm slung around his shoulder. Another one of his friends. “Was that Marinette?”

At least this one was far too blind to notice the tensing of his shoulders, or the sharp glare that once marred his expression. Felix easily slipped back into that friendly persona, feigning ignorance. “She ran off when I tried talking to her.”

“Well,” the boy laughed. “You know how she is.”

He simply smiled and agreed, because it told him all he needed to know. Of course, he mused, it had to be a fluke.

That girl had just taken a lucky guess. She had caught him nearly insulting his darling cousin’s precious fans — it was no wonder she was suspicious. Her observations were merely emphasized to discourage him from attempting to do so again, yes, anyone could have done it.

There was no way she was intelligent as he feared she could be.

Clearly not, with how moronic the rest of the class was.

They were waiting for him — for Adrien — at the park, because it was totally normal for ‘friends’ to accompany each other to photoshoots. It’s not like it was a private job or anything, of course not! Forget the model’s diet he’s forced to follow, and offer cookies and pastries because that’s what friends do!

It took all of Felix’s willpower to continue smiling pretty, laughing along with a sheepish apology to the photographer, joining their impromptu picnic. They bought his act, quite easily Felix may add, and it almost made him sneer.

He shouldn’t even be surprised when the familiar pig-tailed girl suddenly appeared, out of breath and panting. “Sorry I’m late!” she huffs. “The bakery was—”

The words die on her lips as she lifts her gaze to meet his, and somehow, they both just knew.

“Marinette!” He chirps with a widening grin. “Glad you can join us!”

“...Yes,” she bites out. “Yes, of course. Isn’t it great?”

She was kind enough not to call him out in front of everyone, but the twitch of her eye is all he needs to know. She continues to smile, acting as if nothing is wrong, but her voice lowers so that only he can hear. “Felix,” she scolds. “Adrien doesn’t glare at people like that.”

“Really now?” He smiles stiffly in return. “I’ll make a note of that for next time.”

Her fists tighten at the sound of ‘next time’ but she doesn’t say anything. Instead she smiles and says, “I’ll be sure to remind you next time.”

It almost becomes a recurring joke. Felix walks into the room, only to be called out by the pig-tailed girl. And he hates it. Because once was far too many times, and twice might as well be the beginning of the end. And the end it was, because it only gets worse from there.

How did she know? It was always “Adrien doesn’t do this” or “Adrien doesn’t do that.” He couldn’t even breathe incorrectly without that girl calling him out! Felix was careful. He was thorough. His act was virtually perfect. And this girl managed to see past it all with a mere glance!

He scowled, sneering as the girl appeared. He wasn’t even dressed as him and she was sauntering over, smiling as if there was nothing wrong with the world. “What is it this time?” he bit out.

“You look down on people.”

Felix blinked. “Pardon?”

“You,” she repeated slowly, as if he couldn’t understand. “Look down on people.” Marinette mimicked his posture, back rigid, head tilted up and teeth bared, hands hidden behind her back. It looked so wrong on a tiny frame like hers. “When you talk,” she said. “You tilt your head back and look down at them.”

He scoffed, but filed that information away for later. For all her faults, she was sickeningly observant and he would be a fool not to listen.

She hummed, nodding as if she were satisfied, and left. She left. He could feel his eye twitch as he glared at her retreating figure. Was that all? What, did she want to brag about how she’s got him all figured out? Was this some sort of mind game? He wouldn’t be surprised considering how their interactions always seem to play out. And now she—

She didn’t compare him to Adrien.

Felix blinked at the realization. Scoffed at the thought.

So what if she had picked up on one of his traits. It was just one measly observation anyone with eyes could make! He didn’t need to observe the girl that closely to know that she shifts her weight from one foot to another when she’s uncomfortable, or how she stumbles over her words when she’s nervous.

He didn’t really need to know her to see that her eyebrows twitch when she’s getting irritated. Just like she didn’t really need to know him to tell the difference between him and his cousin. Felix didn’t need to be around her for that long to notice— “You have a habit of touching your earrings.”

She stumbled, wide-eyed and barely catching herself on the edge of the railing. “Excuse me?”

“When you’re lost in thought,” he spoke slowly, making sure to over-enunciate every syllable just in case she didn’t understand. “You fiddle with your earrings.”

She rolls her eyes with a frown, hands already reaching up to brush against her ears when she freezes, turning her gaze into a glare when she catches him smirking. “Are you watching me now?” she shoots back. “Going to impersonate me next?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs. “I have nothing to gain from you.”

“Maybe some human decency, but I think it’s too late for that.”

“How harsh,” he says. “I wasn’t aware that you were capable of saying anything other than praise for my darling cousin.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes, hiding what could have been a smile within her cup. He hums, lifting his own to his lips, the bitter liquid sliding down his throat and burning his tongue. Coffee, the only neutral ground they could both stand on. An unofficial truce with their mugs in hand.

Of course the one bakery he decides to frequent happens to be the one owned by her family, but he was far too stubborn to change his routine now, especially when it was the only place that seemed to get his order right. And he needs his coffee now more than ever, with the newfound knowledge of his extended stay here in Paris. Even if it meant dealing with the girl far too many times for his liking.

(Though she was certainly more tolerable than… certain people in his cousin’s class. Not that Felix would ever admit it.)

It doesn’t help that his mother absolutely adores the girl, and were she not busy with her new film project, he would believe that they were both conspiring against him. But he would never deny his mother, not even if she tells him to wait around the bakery just a little while longer.

Marinette happily slides into the seat before him, inviting herself over without so much as a greeting. “Not impersonating Adrien today?”

He eyes the drink in her hands, dark and black and not a single hint of sugar. “Perhaps I should be more worried about you impersonating me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she smiles and takes a sip. “I have nothing to gain from you.”

Hearing his own words thrown back at him has him pause, and he’s already turning to the shorter girl with a glint in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re still the same Dupain-Cheng that trips over nothing the moment she sees a certain blond boy?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Are you the same Felix that dresses up as his cousin for fun and managed to get three people akumatized in one day?”

“It was… not my finest moment,” he finds himself admitting.

He grimaced at the memory. The plan was impulsive at best. While he may have gotten one of the rings back, his uncle was now on high alert. They both knew who stole it, but Agreste couldn’t exactly blame him, not with how he’s standing on thin ice with his mother. Felix had barely managed to avoid confrontation by shifting the attention to his cousin.

Now Agreste was wearing the other piece of the pair, acting as if he never lost a ring in the first place, practically flaunting it in his face.

The ring sat neatly among his other accessories. It didn’t even look out of place in his line of silver rings, perfectly hidden in plain sight. Felix stared at the jewelry, then turned and slammed the box closed, shifting in his seat and tapping his foot impatiently. How exactly was he going to get the other ring back? If he were going to return the rings to his mother, he would rather have both pieces of the pair.

He curses. His normal confidence was gone. His plans, detailed as they may be, were simply lacking. Felix was smart. He was thorough, but now he finds himself worrying over every single detail and he could only put the blame on that girl who seems to see right through him. (Because who else can call him out?)

He doesn’t have time to worry about the girl. He can’t even bring himself to worry about his darling cousin who was barging into his room. Felix sighs. “What do you want now?”

“You have to stop messing with Marinette.”

The sudden declaration causes a chuckle to slip past his lips, and he’s already turning to meet his gaze head-on. “Seriously?” He bites back the smirk threatening to curl upon his face. “You don’t have to worry about me stealing your precious girlfriend, Adrien.”

And he dares to look scandalized. “She’s not my girlfriend!”

Now that makes Felix laugh.

“She’s just a friend,” Adrien emphasizes, stepping closer as if it could make him understand better. “And she’s been so stressed lately, so you can’t just go bothering her like that!”

He’s practically hissing like a stray cat, or better yet, posturing like some sort of guard dog. If it came from absolutely anyone else, Felix would be less inclined to believe it. Those two weren’t dating? Not when they were incredibly and irrevocably whipped for each other? But with the video and how he — Oh god. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah!” Adrien actually brightens, nodding, clearly not understanding the situation. “Marinette is one of my friends and you can’t keep messing with her like that, you know, I don’t want her to become akumatized like when—”

He had the decency to look guilty, at least, but Felix is already putting a hand on his shoulder, smiling at his darling cousin. “First, you tell me to dress as you so you can sneak off and do who-knows-what.” His voice is light, friendly, but Adrien still shrinks at his words. “And now you’re telling me who I can or cannot talk to?”

“No! That’s not what I—”

“I thought you wanted me to make friends?” He innocently adds.

“Well, yeah but—” Adrien flounders. “Marinette…”

“Is she not a good friend?” He pushes. “She certainly seems to have a good influence on you.”

Bless his cousin who could do no wrong. Adrien relents with a hesitant nod, taking a deep breath and looking straight into his eyes. “You know what, Felix?” His cousin pulls him into a hug that he’s forced to reciprocate. “I’m glad you’re getting better.”

Thank you, he smirks, for the opportunity. She’s just what he needs to complete his plan. She certainly wouldn’t make it easy for him but Marinette, well, she seems satisfied with any moment she can catch him outside of Adrien’s clothes. And with a little more pushing—

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Felix tells him. “Because I quite enjoy the time I spend with Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“And I plan on becoming close friends with her.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #avon writes

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thespiritofthoughts1234 · 3 years

Text

The warriors

Hi, my name is Isabela! I live in a small town called Ocna’s Village in Romania. Actually, I was born in Italy, but I’ve moved to Romania without knowing why, ok when I moved, I was a baby so is pretty logic to not know lots of things on that young age…Eh, doesn’t matter, cause now I don’t wanna tell you my story, but I really want to discuss about Dimension F35A.

F35A is a place where everything that appears to be unrealistic, impossible or even dumb on this planet it can happen there. Now you might ask yourselves: “How can a little girl know so much about an interdimensional world”, well I know because I WAS THERE. You know, a very long time ago it was known about a rock that once rubbed by someone, it could create a portal between dimensions. That rock was called then a “curly rock”, a natural object that can be modeled in any other form, in today’s world it can be recognized in bracelet form and you can purchase it at an affordable price… (I swear I don’t make advertisement) …not true, actually you get it from birth (not literally anyone can say that).

This dimension was perfect for my imagination, but it comes out that…I couldn’t get there till I turned 7…okay, technically, even at that age I still could NOT go in that universe, so I took my mom’s bracelet -I know that I’m not a good role-model, but I was DESPERATE, I asked her each year on my birthday (to be more convincing), and guess what she told me…I’ll make a scheme to show you my agony: -3years=No.

-4years=No!

-5years=NO!

-6years=NOO!

-7years=NOOO!

So, it turns out that I’ve woken up for 8 years (1 year was under warranty) at 6 am because I had a “noghtmare” (eh, eh, get it…anyway, I wanted to make a pun but I noticed that no one laughed…L-LET’S KEEP GOING).

Ok, so when I first got in, I saw… a party with ponies and rainbows, that is what you were thinking...well, YOU’RE WRONG, it was just an unending war with random characters, it means that Batman could fight Bambi or something like that. Anyway! I looked around, everything was a chaos, but I’ve noticed something weird, I realized that everyone in there was fighting for a purpose or covering themselves or conquering new territories, so I made up a purpose too…the most important one. The thing that actually matters is that someone must clean this mess, a person that must be good, brave, and WORTHY FOR SUPREME LOYALTY, a creature that will stop this disaster.

And that’s why I’m…going to find it, what did you think that I am the person, no, not even a word, I won’t get into those knuckleheads, they freak me out.

So, I transformed myself into a mouse and tried to reach the closest spot to hide (a rock…t-there will be many rocks in this story). And exactly when I thought that I’m safe, a giant robot crushed me (obviously I didn’t die because after you are crushed, sliced, shot, burnt, etc. you get back to your home dimension). But a second before game over I saw an iconic red color being, with deep black eyes that penetrate souls, three fox tails, two fox ears and one fox nose, who wore a leaf that covered all of its body, and who appeared to be a little bit confused by the chaos behind him, but in the end, he still crossed the road, very chill, to resolve his problems. I scanned it to have it like “skin” in the future (Minecraft users in the public, or Standoff or PUBG, whatever) but what future, because that stupid stack of iron CRUSHED ME:

--Hmm, what if I turn in that thing? I did it. Ew, this leaf doesn’t work on me… therefore, I changed. I was wearing a blue vest, white shirt, black jeans and brown boots…BOOM, it’s betTEEEER! I was screaming because a giant iron sole was going to crush me again (I would give a reply but I don’t have one…OH, WAIT, it looks like we can’t STEP inside without being CRUSHED by hospitality, HA HA, I’m a horrible pun maker…BACK TO THE STORY). However, I’m talking about one second before the impact, I ran but not like a penguin, I ran like FLASH:

--WHAT THE…WOW, I am running with the speed of light (clearing throat), doesn’t matter, now let’s find that person…I will look over mountains and valleys, lakes and oceans, and I will be recognized like “The random girl who brought the hero of this world” … after I will visit this place with the super-speed thing. Now I think I went through 3 kingdoms -I despite no one saw me- And then I arrived on a land with a dense fog, without…(cough)…clEAn AiR:

--NO…I need…(COUGH)…to continue mY qUeSt-not too far away from me stand a humanoid silhouette…at least that’s what I thought…however, I started to scream, powerless: PLEASE…(COUGH)…YOU, THE STRANGER IN THE HORIZON …I’M VERY YOUNG…EVEN IF I APPEAR TO BE IN MIDDLE AGE FROM THE DISTANCE AND UNCLEAN AIR! I fainted waking up in a cave:

--(Clearing throat again)…Uh, where am I? I said after being a little dizzy.

Suddenly a sound came out of nowhere, like a growl:

--W-what? Who’s there? I asked scared. An animal came out of shadow, actually it was the same animal that I saw a few moments ago: You again! What do you want for appearing in those mysterious ways? the animal growled harder showing its big fangs: Uuuh, what BIG fangs you got there, buddy, ha, ha! Wait do I have fangs too?! What’s your name? No, no, no, how do your friends call you? I have many questions about…you…I was slowly going back, because the animal was slowly coming to me. Unfortunately, I reached the end of the cave: Understand that I mean no harm, although we are in the same species, no…I scanned you, didn’t I…I scanned you…and I transformed into you, I hope you don’t want to…EAT ME?! I said with a worried expression.

After the last phrase the humano-animal -partial human, partial animal- for a second it stopped, and then it came rapid, got its huge bloody red color claws out -literally anything is red on you? – Well in that moment I nodded and I said:

--N-nice…c-claws. Did you do your manicure?... the best pun that I could tell to a creature with an unpredictable behavior, oh and more than that,

before I didn’t know if she/he was furious or happy, because I was seeing just his/her dark eyes -even the gender is unknown-, and after that innocent joke its eyes changed a lot, they were yellow with a keen red iris. “OH MY GOD I’M SO DEAD!” I said to myself…BUT yes, of course, I can’t die in this dimension, yeah thank you for reminding me, I don’t need to worry…just if I bump into a particularly type of being…a being that can destroy anyone and anything…

Is known about an ancient legend that reveals some sort of creatures, warriors, who disintegrate everything that stays in their way, although it doesn’t exist in their dimension, it’s speculated that those legendary creatures are the most dangerous beings in the multiverse…who told me? ... Mama told me!... Ok I don’t know how those legends look, but I hope that the respective humano-animal wasn’t a part of those fighters -WAIT A SECOND I HAVEN’T NAMED THE GUY YET, hmmm…let’s see…Neferis…no, to Grecian…Falohe, no, to Hawaiian, hmmm…Do…Ba…Aaaa I know, Zentofea, why this name? I DON’T KNOW!

Back to the story: That Zentofea -Oh gosh, I love this name- came closer to me being just as predictable as unpredictable like before, but the Zeantofea…Zen-a-to-fe-a?... seeming to be more furious. I said quickly:

--WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! the Zento- Agh- that humano-animal, appeared to attack me, …but no, he/she? Destroyed the boulder behind me to make clear way to the outside world…really nice gesture from a wild animal…By the way, after that giant stone, there was a pasture full of cold crystal flowers - why didn’t they named them ice flowers-: WOW, I hope you wanted to do this for the first time, because you might just miss and… Ya’ know…

At first, the animal had a disapproving look, and then it smiled and leaved:

--Ok…anyway…I’M GOOD! Now I seriously need to find that person, the battlefield is getting dirty, and I don’t want to clean the mess…I made a few turns in the pasture…aaand then I got lost…Um…I think I should go in that way…or that way…or…that…way…uuuh, …HEEEELP! After the previous phrase a humano-animal came out of the forest near the pasture: DUDE, if I owe you, every time you appear, I’ll buy you a yacht. Then the animal came closer, showing itself not being a Zentofea, but a humano-animal with a body of a wolf, a more evolved wolf, with human head and some different sized crystals placed uniform on the fluffy chest -I should wear glasses.

It came and smelled me:

--Uuuh, are you some sort of dog? it has stopped from smelling for a second and showed his sharp fangs… sharper than Zentoffe-a’s ones -I’m still thinking how to pronounce it correctly-…anyway…of course I got scared: UUUH, GOOD BOY, GOOD BOY, SIT! He growled: WHAT, DID I OFFENDED YOU IN SOME WAY?!SAY! LOOK I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE, BUT TO KNOW THAT TODAY IS MY FIRST DAY IN HERE, AND ALL THE ANIMALS ALREADY HATE ME!

--Get out of our territory, Zentofea!

--Ooooh, so it’s pronounced Zentofe-e-a, ok I noted AND HEY, HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT NAME, and did you say “OUR territory”!? after that phrase, a bunch of more humano-animals came out of the forest. Ya’ know, don’t ya’ think you have to many friends? They were slowly approaching me, I know, you think that I could’ve escaped, but the answer is NO, I couldn’t escape because I was surrounded, and I also know I could have jumped, but those animals seemed to have springs instead of legs, really now, I think they evolved from kangaroos…Siberian kangaroos. Many of those animals had an white with a little of black fur, WE C-CONTINUE: So I was there surrounded by those oversized human-headed dumb dogs, I was helpless, TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- increase the suspense-IIIIIIIIIIIILLL … nothing happened, I’m kidding, I figure it out that:” BUT WAIT I HAVE SECRET WEAPONS TOO!”. I tried to annoy myself to get my claws out, first time it didn’t work, and then I thought about the most annoying thing for me, not even this worked because I love all the things unless the things that I hate, so I went to Karate, Judo, and putting my fingers in other one’s eyes:

--OUCH, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

--That’s how I know!

Even with my MASTER moves, I still couldn’t stop those hundreds of humano-wolves - hmm, surprising- until one bit my tail. In that moment I was angry- I took out the sharp fangs, yellow eyes with small pupil and iris, big claws, now I don’t boast myself, but I took down at least 20 wolves, ok I boast myself a little bit. Doesn’t matter because everything happened in my MIND, after that guy who I put my fingers in his eyes, another one threw a stump in my head.

I woke up tied up of a plank, carried by 4 human-wolves -I’ll name them later- to the chief of the tribe. They put me in a cage, still tied, with fire under the cage, very chill. The chief said:

--Oh, divine spirit of the frozen forest we give you this offering in exchange of a great dinner.

--An offering for a great dinner? Do you know that you can hunt? I mean you’re half wolves after all!

--GASP, who would’ve done such a shameful deed!? They looked offended.

--Says the guy who is making an offering to a horse!

--It’s a majestic wolf!

--Riiight, you really aren’t good at sculpture!

--Oh, yes, we are, everyone is criticizing us, and why aren’t you worried, you’ll be burnt, are you a player?

--OF COURSE, I AM -a brilliant idea just crossed my mind- n-not…of course I am NOT a player, because I’m a destroyer undercover!

A sound of surprise came from tribe:

--Wait a second why did you smell like a Zentofea?

--Well, it’s a special thing that none of you heard about, it’s called perfume!

--Oh!

--A-and if you don’t untie me, I’ll destroy you ALL!

--But if you’re a destroyer and you can destroy us, why didn’t you destroy the rope and the cage already?

--Uh- OH, yeah…uh, thanks…I forgot I can… DO… that -I was pretending to concentrate to destroy the cage, but as an amazing coincidence, a thing came out of nowhere and cut the iron box and saved me…still tied up…but free…i-in a way. Uuuuh, yeah, I telepathically sent a message to a recruit to save me, good job soldier! I caressed his head, good part he was fluffy, bad part he pulled out a laser gun from his pocket and pointed it to my forehead, he had 2 guns, the other one was pointed at the public -how dangerous can be a creature with 3 feet high:

--Run! Said The Short One, that’s how I call him, with a deep voice.

--I would’ve run already, if I haven’t my legs TIED UP!

--A Zentofea has stronger muscle power in lower limbs!

--…Yes…

--…That means that you can rip the string that ties your legs!

--Ooooh! I ripped the strings and I ran… after a few seconds I stopped and I returned to The Short One.

--WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING, I TOLD YOU TO RUN!

--I won’t let you down!

--I’ve been here more than you so I learned a lot in my time!

--Ok, I trust you on this, but can I do somethin’?

--Yes, try to survive!

--…I hope I can do that!

Well, it appears that The Short One had a plan to escape from that situation, I don’t know how, but The Short One shot with the laser gun in a cold crystal (ice), bounced off another two cold crystals (two pieces of ice), and then to the base of a tree, that rip causing a chain reaction, putting down tree by tree, the last tree falling in front of the angry crowd:

--WOOOOW!

--COME ON, I CREATED A DIVERSION!

--But, wait, how did you know that tree was going to fall in front of them? I have said while I was running with The Short One.

--D-do you really want to know?

--Uh, yes?

--Really, no one has asked me about this for a decade!

--Uh, about what?

--Science stuff…oh my God…I’m…so…excited…(clears throat) ok I’ll tell you…GASP, first time I calculated the area between the laser gun and the target, and then I’ve calculated the variables- he continued talking until I realized that we both have stop from running.

--Uh, dude ya know…an entire squad of human-wolves with six packs is like…following us!

--…And then I measured…

--…Uh, maaan?

--…But the distance was equal with…

--I beg you to stop!

--…So, I created a way to…

--Sigh, who am I kidding? I took him by the arm and jumped in a tree.

--…Although if I would’ve taken the theory…

--CAN YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT…please? I put my hand to his mouth and I pointed to the tribe that passed us.

--Oh, yeah, I-I’m sorry!

--Look, man, I understand your excitement, I think you’re a little lonely here by your independent character, but can ya wait until we get rid of this dorks?

--Yeah, I know, and by the way I’m a girl!

--You are a girl, but how do you have such a deep voice? SHE took her mask off!

--It’s a changing voice device, dear!

--Oh. My. Goodness. YOU ARE SO CUTE! I think she was the cutest specie of humano-animal that I’ve ever met in my life. I hugged her… SHE WAS FLUFFY!

--Look, that’s why I’m always wearing a mask…ok, this and other 3 reasons!

--Daaww, why, like someone would really attack you?

--Yes, many would attack me, players, qualified and unqualified hunters, maybe…MY OWN ENEMIES!?

--Aaww, but wait, you have enemies?

--Yes!

--Why?

--Because of my high intelligence!

--Really, well, that means that you have common enemies with many of your species.

--Meh, not really, I’m a very rare case, usually creatures in my species are…

--Let me guess, dumb, goofy, jerks, but with no reason?

--I wanted to say idiots, but your description is much more extensive.

--I know how it feels, I mean a lot of people from my species are like that!

--Zentofea?

--No, humans…but I have one question, how does everybody know about this name? I named that creature!

--Uh, no, it has been named like that since forever!

--How?...

--Look, stop asking useless questions and care about your purpose!

--My purpose…OH YEAH, MY PURPOSE, I FORGOT ABOUT IT!

--How can you forget your own objective?

--My PURPOSE…is that an ocean? I’d said while I was exiting the forest.

--Yes, the terrestrial space from this planet is predominant in isles and archipelagos!

--DAMN IT, how am I going to cross the ocean now?

--But why do you want to cross it? Do you need to cover a territory?

--No…

--Do you want to conquer a territory?

--…No…

--Then why do you want to cross the ocean?

--I want to change the world!

--Wait, you want to change the world…alone?

--Nope, that’s why I’m looking for a person to help me!

--Wow, really…wow, you’re the first person who said that! Hey, HEY, what are you doing? I took off my boots, I rolled up my jeans and I tried to run above the water, for 3 seconds I really have run above the water, and then I began to sink. I swam back to the beach.

--So, do you wanna tell me…where…the heck…were you thinking?

--I thought that I could run on water.

--Kiddo, if in your dimension exists some force who keep things together, however are you calling…

--Gravity…

--I knew about that name, I’m a genius, I just wanted to clarify that you know what I’m talking about…What I wanted to say, is that, the respective force exists in this universe too, but it acts with a different attraction.

--Aha, so what other idea do you have?

--Hmmm, first, you still didn’t answer the previous question!

--Well, I think the person might be after the ocean!

--Do you think that this motivation is certain, I mean isn’t assuming an attempt to know something that can be inexistent, do you really think, in this life anything can have a scope, don’t you think that life is an illusion meant to prepare us of everything what can be beyond the bars of reality?

I remained without words:

--I made this up 10 seconds ago, what’s so hard to understand?

--No, no…I-I understood!

--Then why are you doing this!

--Um, I don’t know…I think I just needed an adventure!

--Then why did you choose to change this world?

--I don’t kn-…YOU KNOW WHAT, leave me alone with those weird questions, you’ll provoke me an existential crisis!

--Ok!

--I just wanted to know How. Can. I. Cross. THE DAMN OCEAN?

--Stay chill kid, I’ve got this! She took out a thing from her pocket and she blew in it, then a 45 feet animal came out of water and it wasn’t a blue whale. A little help from a seahorse!

--You can’t put the words “seahorse” and “little” referring to that thing!

--Oh, yes, I can. Player, say hi to Rudolf!

--RUDOLF? WHAT ARE YOU…SANTA…THE BARBARIAN!?

--Not really. Rudolf, say hello to the player! He said hello…i-in his language.

--Yep, I’m clearly going to make a raAAF- the monster picked me and sank into the water!

--Bye, bye, bon voyage through the ocean!

The monster took me to a temple under the water. In temple:

--COUGH…when I said to cross the ocean I DIDN’T MEAN UNDER WATER! All the torches in the room blew up.

--Greetings, my dear child! Said an old lady when she appeared from nowhere in front of my face.

--HOLY SHAMALAMA…sigh…ma’am I think you have the wrong person!

--No, no, that’s how I tell to the visitors!

--Ooo, so, you have tourists…riiight!

--No, every new player comes to me for the closet! She showed me like a Chinese closet -I made a redundancy, everything is made in China.

--Closet, do you have problems with the furniture?

--No, they get in it!

--So…you kidnap kids... I’m calling the police!

--No, you didn’t understand, it will be worth, plus is no police station in the middle of the ocean!

--You’re the creepiest person I’ve ever met in my life!

--Many people say that! Now, come on, it doesn’t bite!

--At least I got rid of a fear! I got in the closet, immediately after I got in, I remained unconscious and I woke up in another world.

I’ve heard a girly voice:

--WARM WELCOME TO THE DIMENSION OF THOUGHTS! Said a grey colored skin girl with black clothes and amber colored eyes. And I’m the Spirit of Thoughts!

--AAAAA!

--Hmm, I thought that a Zentofea wouldn’t fear of literally everyone who says hello!

--How did you know about that…AND MORE IMPORTANT, HOW DOES EVERYBODY KNOWS ABOUT THAT NAME!?

--Well, first, I know what every player thinks, and second, I know about that name because I put it!

--But ho-

--How do I know that? Well, the answer is in the name, MY NAME, DUH!

--And how did I-

--And how did you name it? Ho ho, well, that’s simple kid, it’s because all of those subliminal messages that I left around the place!

--If-

--If I control the thoughts, why didn’t I end the war, yet? …It’s because that war shouldn’t end, it’ll declare the true leader of this world, like you said it must be a good, brave, and worthy person to clean this mess.

--An-

--And that means-

--Oh, will you please let me talk?

--Ok, go ahead!

--…And that means I’ll have to fight to make a little difference?

--Kid, I think that you will change the whole world, trust me, I don’t say this to any other player…but you have to fight for that, although it’s like the real life!

--Yeah…it is!

--…So, are you ready for your first match?

--Y-yes…yes, I do! Let the game begins.

#The Spirit Of Thoughts(me)#Isabela #F35A #The Short One #Rudolf #creepy lady #human-headed dumb dogs #Zentofea #my first post

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sirspud · 3 years

Text

A Vulgar First Impression of Coromon

Playing Pokémon games recently has been something akin to hiring a fairy princess to perform for your daughter’s birthday parties. The first few times she came around were fun, she made all the kids laugh and play their games, but now the princess has grown lazy, idly watching YouTube while disinterestedly mumbling the same four or five lines she’s been spouting for the past twenty-three years. But you keep hiring her regardless, even though your daughter’s trying to point out that she’s not into princesses anymore because she’s pushing 30, and you’re starting to think she might not be worth three hundred bucks a visit. And she’s starting to smell.

So as the Pokémon community sits and waits for the Diamond and Pearl remakes, because what is Pokémon if not a prolonged exercise in nostalgia bait, some indie developers have been trying their hand at doing Pokémon, but properly this time. First came along TemTem, which was, “Like Pokémon but online”, and now there’s Coromon, which is “Like Pokémon” and that’s it.

I’ll admit, I was attracted to Coromon not because of any underlying nostalgia or a want to replay Pokemon, but because the devs put out a free demo for the game, which is a rarity in this modern age of Early Access and delayed release dates. Intrigued, I decided to take a closer look, to see which warts they cut off and which ones they allowed to fester.

The game starts with our protagonist waking up in a small town with his mother about to go get his OR HER first Pokémon. So far, so standard. But where Coromon differs is that you aren’t some apple-cheeked youngster with a criminally neglectful parent, but a college kid who’s been selected for a prestigious university that studies Pokémon – sorry – “Coromon”. And incidentally, Pokémon scores the first point for having a name that actually means something. They’re monstrous creatures that can be caught in a ball and put in your pocket – “Pocket”-“Monsters”. What the fuck does Coromon mean? Because Coro only has a meaning if it’s in Italian, and I’m pretty sure these things aren’t meant to be called “Choir Monsters!”

Anyway, a dude in a wheelchair who was apparently the guy in charge gives you a magic glove and tells you about these glowing elemental orbs, which are important for some reason I wasn’t clear on, and he sends you out on a journey to collect more by finding six elemental titans and – as far as I understood the process – murdering them and stealing their essence in the name of science.

We choose our first Pokémon from a choice between the fire-type, the water-type or the… ice type? And then, we set out on our journey to fight trainers, make new friends, and shuffle about in the grass for an hour because your gobblefrog isn’t level sixty-two yet.

The first thing that struck me about Choirmon is that it really isn’t being coy with its desire to ape Pokémon. Everything, right down to the statistics of each monster, is identical to the way Pokémon does things. The types have the same names, evolving is still called evolving, it even gives you berries and other items for your monsters to hold. You can battle monsters in the wild, blundering into tall grass to scare them out of hiding and capturing them after beating them into a bloody pulp, or you can battle monsters owned by other trainers in unregulated dog fights. So it isn’t trying to be like Pokémon, it is Pokémon. It stabbed Pokémon in an alleyway, cut off its skin and is now swanning about performing a perverted Face/Off act.

Now, I love Pokémon just as much as the next guy, but I’m no deluded fanboy. Pokémon is not perfect. In fact, it’s a game with a lot of flaws. And in its desire to imitate, Collectamon inherits a lot of the same problems that Pokémon does. Using items, for example, takes up an entire turn, and while this can be forgiven in a party-based RPG, where you have other actors to make up for the guy losing a turn, you can only put out one monster at a time, and using anything other than a healing item in the thick of battle just makes you an open target.

Trying to think strategically is also a lost cause, because again, it’s fucking Pokémon. The only strategy is “use whatever the opponent is weak to” or “mash attack until one of you dies”. And while you could argue that Pokémon’s strong point is its simplicity, it does mean that winning a fight is more a matter of patience than a matter of skill.

At time of writing, I’ve been playing the demo for 7 hours. An impressive run-time for a demo, to be sure, and that’s only up to the first boss. Incidentally, it’s in that area that we meet the evil team of this game, because Pokémon had evil teams, and so must we! I don’t even understand their motivation, or who these people even are! They’re presented to us as if we already know what their deal is and why we should hate them. All I know about them is their name and the fact that they like to hang around in caves. Pitch-black ones that you navigate by wandering around aimlessly getting lost in the samey-looking environments.

Really, guys? You thought it’d be a good idea to preserve one of the shittiest areas in Pokémon? Actually, they follow it up with an even shittier level that plays like the gym leaders from the annoying puzzle gyms got together and tried to devise the most efficient backtracking machine, culminating in a game of Mastermind out of fucking nowhere.

Well, so far I’ve just been going on about how the game is the same as Pokémon. What’s different? Well, for a start, each monster has a well of stamina points that they spend to use their special abilities, limiting how many times you can use those moves before your monster has to have a little rest. So you have to weigh up whether or not you want to waste stamina using that really powerful move or whether you want to keep a steady pace with the weaker moves. Except, Pokémon already did that with each move having limited uses. So we haven’t gone anywhere. All we’ve done is paint the walls a different colour.

Erm… what else? Well, your character speaks for one thing, despite you being able to name them and customise them to your liking. I think we tried the talking player avatar thing back in Fallout 4, and it was just as unimmersive back then too. It means that you don’t really get to impose your own character on the avatar, because the avatar makes his OR HER own decisions without your input, accepting every single quest that gets handed to you without even flirting with a dialogue box because it means oh so much to them to help this random faceless NPC, whose unique name and appearance does nothing to make him feel any less forgettable.

…Ah, that’s something different. There’s a quest system. I’m not sure why. In an open world game, quest systems give the game a structure and a reason to explore the world. But, as we’ve established, Crackmon is Pokémon, and so progression is strictly linear. It’s hard to tell just how much it’ll impact the game, since it’s just a four-hour demo, but a quest system like this can easily turn into a to-do list of tedious tasks for rewards that you don’t need. One of the sidequests early on had me capture a pissweasel for some guy, only for the bloke’s mentor to smack him across the head and have him hand the pissweasel right back! This is the very definition of wasting my fucking time! The only reason I caught that pissweasel was for your quest, and I don’t want to deal with its incontinence issues!

Another way that Cloacamon tries to differentiate itself is though its Potential mechanic. Get this – whenever your pet cockcrab reaches a certain XP interval, you get to directly increase its stats by a total of 3 points, on top of the cockcrab’s normal stat increases, so you don’t have to muck around with effort values and breeding to optimise your stats. Each monster also has a “Potent” and “Perfect” form, with each form reaching these intervals sooner than the normal version of the cockcrab. So the game encourages you to abandon your monsters frequently, exchanging them for their shiny, better versions, which I would argue goes against the whole point of Pokémon. At its core, Pokémon is a game about going on a journey and creating a bond with your tag team of beasts, a bond which is impossible to form if you’re encouraged to chuck your friends in the bin the second you find their better, newer models.

I could go down my list of subtle differences, most of which are quality of life changes, like the ability to evolve mid-battle, or the ability to swap out different moves instead of permanently forgetting them, or the fact that you use HM moves yourself instead of teaching them to your Pokémon. But I’d rather finish this first impression by once again re-iterating that Cocaniumon is just Pokémon. It’s not writing any new rules, it’s not even reworking old ones, and it seems content to merely lie on its back and spin its wheels. And while you could argue that Pokémon’s formula doesn’t need to be changed, I would argue right back that not having the ambition to change has long been part of the fucking problem!

If all you want is more Pokémon but with less bullshit, then go ahead and give Coromon a try. Personally, I wasn’t motivated to continue playing past the first boss fight. Part of the problem was that I had no idea what I was ultimately working towards. Collect all the titan essences, so that we can research them! Research them for what? So we can finally uncover the mystery behind shitty Netflix sci-fi originals?

#why yes I do watch zero punctuation how could you tell #coromon #pokemon #review #comedy #first impressions #opinions #TRAGsoft #Freedom Games #that's a reference to the netflix movie The Titan by the way #god knows how many people I thought would get that

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

Class Reunion

Pairing: Benny x Reader

"No. Ruthie, no. I don't want to go to the reunion," you replied from your desk in the back office. "You remember how it was for me in high school. I didn't 'fit in', all I did was study and babysit the neighbors' kids. I don't have the greatest memories of high school, except meeting you," you explained.

"You 'fit in' just fine, and all that studying has certainly prepared you for your current occupation," Ruthie pointed out. "Besides, you're nowhere near the same girl as you were in high school," she remarked.

"I'm aware of that, Ruthie. I didn't even go to prom, remember?" you reminded her.

"Will you at least think about it? I talked my husband into going, and Charlie has a date. I'm sure you can find someone to go with. Please? Charlie and I need to go dress shopping for this, and it just won't be the same unless you're there with us," she begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. "Fine. I will think about it. That's the best answer you're gonna get for right now. I have to get back to work now, my break's over. Bye Sis," you said softly. After you hung up your phone, you leaned on the desk with your elbows and covered your face with your hands.

"Bad news, darlin'?" a voice from the doorway caused you to nearly jump out of your seat. You looked up and saw it was Benny, the handsome blue-eyed head bartender.

"Nah, just a call from my sister, Ruthie," you sighed wearily. Benny nodded, as he had seen the two of you in the bar together on one of your nights off.

"You look upset, chérie. Wanna talk about it?" Benny asked. "Look, two ears, ready to listen," he drawled in that sexy Southern accent.

You smiled as you stood up from the desk. You put a hand on Benny's shoulder as you left the office and to go back out to the front of the house. "I'll help you close up, and we can talk then, okay?" you suggested.

"Fine by me, darlin'," he agreed, flashing you that winning smile of his.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had been working at Rocky's Bar for about the past eight years. The bar was co-owned by brothers Sam and Dean Winchester, whom you'd met through some other friends. Your business degree helped to make their bar a success among the locals and tourists alike. Most of your time was spent in the office doing paperwork, but on the weekends especially, you helped as a server.

It had been your idea to hire Benny as the head bartender. Benny previously worked in one of the higher end clubs in New York City, which is where you met him. The two of you got to talking one night, and he let it slip that he was looking to slow down a bit from the New York bar scene.

Sam had tried his hand at being head bartender, but he quickly got overwhelmed. You remembered what Benny had said about wanting a change of pace from New York. You called and invited him to work for Sam and Dean on a one-week trial basis. His easygoing manner and lilting Southern accent had the ladies swooning in no time. Before the week was out, Benny was offered the job, and ever since, the two of you have grown to be even better friends.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the night was fairly quiet, with only a few regulars left in the bar at last call. You cleared up the tables and brought the dirty glasses to Benny so they could be washed. After the tables were wiped down and the peanut shells were swept up, you took a seat on an empty barstool.

"So, what about that phone call got you all upset?" Benny asked while he continued to scrub the glassware.

"It's something kinda stupid to get upset about," you started. Before continuing, you took a deep breath. "My ten-year high school reunion is later this month, and Ruthie wants me to go," you explained.

"And you don't want to go?" Benny guessed.

"Right-O. She and I met when we were transitioning from junior high to senior high school. I didn't have a lot of friends in junior high. Any of the friends I had in high school were because of my association with Ruthie.

"Plus....I was kind of a nerd. Always studying, and I babysat the neighbors' kids all the time. I didn't get to do the high school activities thing. Didn't go to the Friday night football games, Homecoming Dances....I never even went to prom," you finished in a small voice.

Benny put down the glass he was washing and focused his gaze entirely on you while leaning on the bar. "Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that a pretty lady like yourself didn't go to prom?" he asked.

You cast your eyes downward to hide the blush on your cheeks. "No, Benny. I didn't go because I wasn't asked. What you see before you is a more improved model, I guess you'd say. If we had met in high school, believe me, you wouldn't have even given me a second glance. You're way out of my league," you replied.

"Aw, darlin'--" he started but you interrupted.

"Besides that, I learned my lesson about aiming too high. The guy I had a crush on asked me to prom but it was done as a joke. Eric was one of the popular kids, but I thought he was one that didn't always go along with the crowd so much.

"Long story short, he stood me up and walked into the dance with someone else. The following Monday at school was humiliating for me, because everyone knew. After that, I put my nose in a book and studied," you explained.

Benny came out from behind the bar and took your hands in his. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, chérie. No one deserves that. If I may say, though, I think you need to go to that reunion. If for no other reason than to show them what they missed out on in high school by being so mean," he remarked and gave you a wink.

You blushed again and dropped your gaze to study the wood grain of the floor. "I told Ruthie I'd think about it," you replied as you stepped down from your barstool. "Even if I decide to go, there's still that one other pesky detail," you said.

"And what's that?" Benny asked.

"Finding a date. Goodnight, Benny. Thank you for listening and being such a good friend," you remarked softly. You gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek, then picked up your denim jacket and walked out the back door.

Just as the door closed behind you, Dean walked into the main bar area. He had been in the back taking inventory, and had some supply questions for his head bartender. Dean was studying the inventory sheets on the clipboard in his hand. "Hey, Benny, how are we doing on our supply of--hey, are you all right?" Dean asked.

Benny stood, rooted to the spot. A dazed smile was on his face, and his fingertips touched his cheek where you'd kissed him. Dean stood directly in front of Benny and snapped his fingers in his face to try and break the trance. Benny blinked and shook his head to slowly come back to reality. "Dude, what happened with you just now?" Dean inquired.

Chuckling to himself, Benny returned to his place behind the bar and started to wash up any remaining glassware. Then he brought Dean up to speed on your conversation about your high school reunion. "So, she hasn't decided whether or not she's going. Her sister and Charlie both want her to go. Only problem is, they have dates, but she doesn't," Benny finished.

"Hmm. That would be a problem. I can't see her being comfortable walking in there without a date. Not with how complicated high school was for her," Dean observed. "Hey, maybe you should be her date," he suggested.

Benny stopped what he was doing to consider his best friend's suggestion. He'd known you for a few years now, and he looked forward to seeing you every night. He would always be grateful to you for giving him the chance to get out of New York City's bar scene.

He couldn't deny the spark he felt when you kissed his cheek tonight. You always had a smile for him, one he was always sure to return. Whenever he heard your laugh, it was like hearing his favorite song. Each time he looked into your hazel eyes, a comfortable feeling washed over him, like coming home. One time, Benny was lucky to get close enough to you, and he caught the green apple scent of your shampoo. From then on, he became obsessed with anything apple.

Benny finished his closing duties, grabbed his leather jacket and flat cap then walked out the back door with Dean. "I think I should do that, offer to be her date," he conceded.

"Yeah, 'cause it's not like you have a crush on her or anything," Dean smirked.

"I don't know what you're talking about, brother," Benny grinned. "See you tomorrow night, Dean," Benny called.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next night, you were in the back office going through some paperwork. You were entering last week's sales figures into the online books and signing off on the inventory reports. After a while, the numbers started swimming before your eyes, and you realized it was time to take a break. You closed your eyes and started massaging your neck, trying to work out some of the stiffness.

After a few moments, you hear the sound of someone clearing his throat to get your attention. You looked up and smiled to see that it was Benny, standing in the doorway.

"Good evening, Benny, so nice to see you! Sorry I haven't been up front much tonight. What brings you back here?" you questioned.

"Well, it's like you said, sweetheart. You haven't been out front very much, and I thought I'd check and see how you're doing. Everything okay?" Benny asked.

"Just going over some numbers, boring data-entry stuff. Although, there's a lot of it, and you caught me taking a break," you explained, reaching up to resume massaging your neck.

"Here, allow me," Benny offered, pulling up a chair to sit behind you. He rubbed his hands together briskly then gently placed them on your shoulders. His now-warm hands instantly calmed you as he started work through your tense neck muscles. "Relax, darlin'. You sure have a lot of knots here. Just close your eyes and let this work," he crooned.

As directed, you closed your eyes as Benny continued to massage your neck and shoulders. His skilled fingers kept working out each knot, and you could feel the tension begin to melt away. "Whoa," you whispered. "This feels amazing, Benny," you said as you groaned with the relief provided by his strong hands.

"Feeling better, chérie?" Benny asked, his breath hot against your ear.

"Much better, thank you," you breathed. "Were you born with such magic fingers, or did you find them on the internet somewhere?" you teased.

Benny chuckled. "Original equipment, darlin'. All me," he answered and wiggled his fingers.

"Lucky me," you murmured.

"Hey, have you decided what you're going to do about your high school reunion?" he asked.

You looked down at your hands, which were folded in your lap. "Not yet. I think you're right, though. I should go, even if only to show people how I've changed from how they knew me in school. Although I don't know why I care so much about what other people think," you muttered.

Benny reached over and with his index finger and tilted your head up to gaze into your hazel eyes. "The only person you have to answer to is yourself. Doesn't matter what other people think. As long as you're happy with who you are, that's what's important," he replied.

You gave Benny a shy smile. "Thank you for saying that, Benny. Besides, if nothing else, it's an excuse for me to buy a new dress, get all dolled up and have a dance or two. Except I still don't have a date," you remembered.

It was now or never. Benny took a deep breath. "So, if you had a date, then you'd go?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Okay then. I'll be your date," he declared.

Your eyes widened at his suggestion. "Really? Why would you want to put yourself through that? You wouldn't know anyone--" he stopped you.

"I'd know you, Ruthie and Charlie. Anyway, it wouldn't exactly be torture, you know. I'd get to see a beautiful woman in a new dress, all dolled up. And, I'd get to slow dance with her a few times," he winked.

"Wow, you would do that for me?" you asked. Benny nodded as he inched closer to leave a lingering kiss on your cheek this time. "Now, go get that new dress, chérie. Can't wait to see you in it," he winked and went back to work.

You pulled out your phone and dialed a number. "Hey, Ruthie? What time are we going shopping for dresses tomorrow?" you asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day, you went dress shopping with Charlie and Ruthie for the reunion. They were so happy that you had decided to go to the reunion with them and that you'd found a date. The more you thought about it, the more you started to warm up to the idea and actually looked forward to it.

You thought back over the years that had passed since you met Benny, ever since that night in a New York City nightclub. You had been visiting your brother, who was the one who wanted to go out in the first place. He was off chasing some girl, while you were left at the bar with your drink.

Benny kept you entertained all night, with the two of you sharing stories of your childhood. He was from a small town in Louisiana, while you were from Iowa. Neither of you seemed to fit with the fast-paced world of NYC. You hung around the bar until after closing, then you and Benny walked the streets, checking out the city. He kept your hand in his the whole time, which made you feel safe in such a big city, and you enjoyed his company.

The thought of your first time meeting Benny made you smile, just as you did every day at seeing him. You always felt safe around him, protected. He was handsome, but in a way that might lead to him being overlooked by some women, but not by you. Benny was sweet, making time to check on you every night you were hard at work in the back office. He had kind, blue eyes that sometimes held a bit of mischief when chatting with customers or co-workers.

And as with nearly every woman, you often fell victim to the charms of his sexy Southern drawl. Probably how he got you to agree at the last minute to go to your reunion. Up until he offered to be your date, you had successfully resisted Ruthie's attempts at getting you to go. Then Benny made his case, and you found yourself giving in to his suggestion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The night before the reunion, you and Benny were both working late. You had paperwork to catch up on, and he was in charge of closing the bar. With it being the end of the quarter, there were additional responsibilities, and you hadn't been sleeping well all week.

Benny had finished all of his closing duties, and was getting ready to head out the door when he saw your office light was still on. He gently knocked on the door and smiled to himself at seeing you. Your head was resting in the crook of your elbow, your crossed arms leaning on your desk. He reached over and tenderly brushed the hair out of your eyes and from your forehead, which caused you to stir.

"Evenin' darlin'," he chuckled softly.

You gave him a sleepy smile, then stretched in your chair, trying to wake up. You gathered up your paperwork and locked it in the desk. You retrieved your purse and car keys. "Must've dozed off, sorry. Thank you for checking on me," you said softly, still a bit sleepy.

"Of course, chérie. You going to make it home okay? I can drive you if you'd rather," he offered.

"I think I can make it home, it's not too far. Thank you though," you replied, blushing. "Big night tomorrow. You know, we can still call it off, hang out at my place instead with pizza and movies," you suggested.

Benny chuckled again. "Not a chance," he shook his head firmly. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in your new dress, with your hair done up just so. Even though no matter what you do with your hair or makeup, you're still beautiful to me, chérie," he replied softly. "And I can't wait to dance with you," he said as he brushed his hand to your cheek.

For a moment, you lost all ability to form a coherent thought, all due to Benny's words and his touch on your skin. "Well, I just hope my reality can live up to your imagination," you whispered.

"Of that, I have no doubt, darlin'," Benny remarked. "See you at seven, your place," he promised.

"Seven it is," you agreed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Charlie!! Have you seen my pink lipstick?!? Aaarrrggghhh! Benny will be here any minute, and I can't find my stupid lipstick!!" you shouted. Ruthie and Charlie were getting ready for the reunion at your house, and you were getting more and more nervous.

"Relax, chickie, it's right here," Charlie placed it in your hand and held onto it, trying to calm you down. "You have plenty of time to finish getting ready. Benny won't be here for another 10 minutes. Okay? Come on, deep breaths," she got you to breathe with her, which did calm you down.

"Charlie, I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous. I haven't been on any kind of date for a long time, and I really like Benny. We've gotten to be good friends over the years, but lately....I've started to have those 'maybe-we-could-be-more-than-friends' feelings. I don't even know how he feels, or if he feels the same. If not, it could make it awkward to work together," you finished.

Ruthie came in to the bathroom to have you zip up her dress. "Do yourself a favor and just have fun tonight. It doesn't have to lead anywhere. If it does, fine, but if not, you'll still have your friendship with him, right?" she asked.

"Yes, that's true. Okay. Time to shimmy into my dress," you grinned. You had found a strapless, floor-length, navy blue gown, with a criss-cross bodice that was form-fitted to your upper body. Although you loved the dress, you weren't exactly comfortable with the amount of skin that was left bare. As a solution, you found a wrap for your shoulders made of a sheer material that was a sparkling silver.

A knock at the door was heard and all three of you froze. You looked out your bedroom window and down to the street to see a shiny, sleek, black Lincoln Town Car parked in front. You knew that Benny drove an old pickup truck, so it had to belong to either of your friends' dates.

"Hey, which one of your dates owns a Lincoln Town Car?" you asked. Charlie and Ruthie looked at each other and shrugged, then continued getting ready. You grabbed your shawl and slowly made your way down the stairs. "Just a minute," you called out to your visitor.

When you opened the door, the figure on your front porch nearly took your breath away. Benny was dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a silver tie and pocket square. Gone was his usual flat cap, his hair neatly styled with gel and his beard freshly trimmed. His smile was the first thing that caught your attention. One part genuine appreciation of your appearance, one part mischief, which meant that you were in for an interesting evening.

"Wow," you whispered. "Won't you please come in?" you asked, after you managed to regain your composure.

Benny chuckled and crossed the threshold into your living room. He took your hand and gently pressed his lips to the back of it. "Bonsoir, chérie. Forgive me for saying, but I didn't know it was possible for you to get any more breathtaking since the last time I saw you," Benny remarked.

"My goodness, but you're a charmer, Benny. Thank you for the compliment. You look very handsome as well. Don't think I've ever seen you without your usual cap. I have to say I like it, though," you added softly.

"Well, thank you darlin'," he winked. In his right hand, he produced a clear plastic box, which had a corsage in it. "Now, this ain't no dozen roses, but you are the first woman I've ever given flowers to 'sides my mama," he grinned. Benny took your right hand in his and placed the corsage on your wrist. It had pink and yellow roses with a navy blue ribbon woven through.

"It's beautiful, thank you, Benny," you beamed.

"Not as beautiful as you," Benny whispered and kissed the back of your hand.

By this time, Charlie and Ruthie had finished getting ready, just in time for their dates to arrive as well. They went to their respective cars and said they'd meet you there. Benny offered you his arm, so you slid your hand around it and he tucked it in close to his side. When he got to the car, he opened your door and waited for you to get comfortable before closing the door.

As he drove to the reunion, Benny reached over for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Try not to worry, sweetheart. I'll be with you every step of the way, and if you want to leave, just say the word," he promised. You squeezed his hand in return and gave him a grateful smile. Once you arrived at the venue, Benny repeated his gentlemanly gestures and opened your door for you. He held out his hand to help you out of the car, and you took it.

Just before you walked in, you tugged on Benny's arm. He stopped to look at you, wondering what you were doing. "In case I forgot to tell you, I appreciate what you're doing for me here tonight. Takes a special kind of person to do a favor like this for someone. You are definitely someone special to me, Benny Lafitte. Thank you," you said as you reached up to give him a kiss to his cheek.

Now it was his turn to blush. "Oh, darlin', you don't have to thank me. You're my friend, and it's my honor to help you. 'Sides, like I said before, this won't exactly be torture. Got a gorgeous woman by my side, and I'm lookin' forward to some slow dances, if you know what I mean," he grinned. You giggled, and since Ruthie and Charlie had caught up to you, all of you walked into the party.

As the evening progressed, you found your earlier worries about attending the reunion had melted away. You knew that a lot of it had to do with Benny, who made it his main priority to see that you were taken care of. He was never gone away from your side for long, usually just to get a drink at the bar.

Whenever a slow song came up, Benny was the first one out of his chair with his hand out, asking you to dance. You always accepted with a smile, and the two of you headed for the dance floor. By the third dance, you realized that your feelings for Benny had definitely progressed beyond friendship. A part of you thought that maybe he felt the same for you. However, there was just as much possibility that he didn't. You also knew that if you didn't say something and soon, that you may regret it.

Benny could tell you had something on your mind. He hooked his index finger under your chin to peer into your hazel eyes. "Are you all right, chérie? You look like you're a million miles away," he observed.

You gave him a shy smile. "I'm fine, just thinking about how wonderfully this evening has turned out. And I have you to thank for it, Benny," you replied. Now was your chance, as the song was ending. "There was something that I wanted to tell you," you started. Your eyes shifted only to catch sight of the girl Eric took to prom instead of you. Tracy Anderson, head cheerleader, student class president, Miss I'm-Great-at-Everything-I-Ever-Do.

"And what is that?" he asked, tightening his embrace and drawing you closer.

A feeling of panic swept over you and you couldn't tell him how you felt right then. "I-I'll be right back," you stammered and ran off towards the ladies' room. Benny stared after you, not quite understanding what just happened. He walked back to the table and sat down to wait for you.

Once in the bathroom, you paced back and forth trying to collect yourself and your thoughts. Can't believe you chickened out, you scolded yourself. So what if she's here? Eric was a jerk to ditch you at prom. He didn't care about you, but Benny does, you explained. Now, get out there and tell him how you feel while you still have the chance, you ordered yourself, smiling in the mirror.

You walked into one of the stalls to get some toilet paper to fix your make up. At that moment, Tracy Anderson and two of her friends walked in. You closed the stall door before they could see you.

"Hey did you see who was here? That girl who Eric asked to prom as a joke," one of them giggled.

"Yeah, I saw her. That guy she's with? He's the head bartender at Rocky's Bar. Oooh, he's so cute! And have you heard him talk? Love his accent, how he says 'darlin' and 'sweetheart' all the time," another girl said. "You don't seriously think they're dating, do you?" she asked.

"Please, do you think he'd waste any of his time on the likes of her? She was such a nerd in high school, always reading and studying. She probably had to pay him to show up here with her so she wouldn't look so pathetic showing up alone. He's way out of her league," Tracy remarked. "Come on, girls, let's get back to the dance," Tracy ordered.

Looks like they remembered me after all, you thought. Every reason for not coming tonight was voiced by none other than the most popular girl in school. All of a sudden, you didn't feel well and decided to ask Benny to take you home. At least there, you could cry in peace and no one would care if your mascara ran all over your face.

You exited the restroom, but didn't notice that Benny was standing outside by the water fountain, waiting for you. He caught your arm and as you turned to face him, he knew something was wrong. "Hey, whoa, are you okay, chérie? You look upset," he said.

"I was headed back to the table to find you. Is it okay if you take me home? I'm feeling a little tired," you replied.

Sensing there was more to the story, but not wanting to press you, he agreed. Benny grabbed your shawl and draped it around your shoulders for you. He held out his arm and you slipped your hand around it, holding on dear life. Benny helped you into the car and started the drive back to your place.

Benny scrambled to think of something to keep the evening going. He knew that as soon as you walked in your front door, he would never know what happened tonight to upset you. "Do you mind if we take a little side trip before I take you home, darlin'?" he asked.

"If you want, you're the one driving," you answered absently.

Benny steered the car to a nearby park and drove to the top of a hill. He got out and ran around to your side to open your door. You leaned against the passenger side of the car, your arms folded across your chest. You looked up to see the millions of stars spread across the night sky.

As Benny stood next to you, he searched your face for some sort of clue as to what happened at the reunion. "What was it you wanted to tell me? Back when we were dancing, you said there was something, then you ran off to the ladies' room," he remarked.

"It's nothing, not important now," you responded softly, a single tear streaking down your face.

Benny moved to stand in front of you. His hand cupped your cheek and his thumb wiped away the tear. "Now come on, I don't believe that. There is something I wanted to tell you, though," he started. "We've been friends for a lot of years now, and you're pretty much my best friend. But seeing you tonight, I realized that I think of you as more than a friend. I'm falling for you, chérie, and I'm crashing hard."

You stood there, stunned at his admission. This was something straight out of your wildest dreams, that Benny felt the same for you as you did for him. "You are an incredible woman. You're smart, sassy, with a great sense of humor. You also have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. You're always there to help when someone needs it, and you are beautiful, inside and out," he finished.

"Benny, you are the most wonderful man I've ever met. You're sweet, handsome, romantic and I'm falling for you as well. That was what I wanted to tell you earlier, but I chickened out at the last minute. The reason I did doesn't matter any more, because you helped me to believe in love, that it can happen to me. I love you, Benny Lafitte," you declared.

Benny's face inched towards you until his lips swiftly captured yours in a kiss that seemed to imprint itself on your soul. Your hands slid up his chest until they locked behind his head and kept your mouths in constant contact. Benny's hands in turn started weaving through your hair, releasing it from the pins holding it in place. "Mon amour....comme tu es très jolie au clair de lune," Benny whispered.

"Mon cœur, je t'aime toujours," you responded.

Benny pulled back a little in surprise. "Since when do you speak French, ma belle fleur?" he asked in amusement.

"Since I met you," you said simply. "At first, I only wanted to know what you were saying, but now I get to tell you how I feel. Je t'aime toujours, Benny," you repeated.

"Je t'aime aussi, mon amour," he returned, just before his lips meshed with yours.

#benny lafitte #benny x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

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ngame989 · 4 years

Text

“Soul” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 9

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @ubercelloczar, @toxicpsychox, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: It's that time of the year for another Soulrise, and Tom throws Marco the birthday bash of a lifetime to celebrate, but Marco realizes that underneath all the joy and celebration Tom has a storm of emotions brewing inside. When Star gets dragged into some mysterious mission on the surface, it's up to Marco to realize just what's been bothering his demon friend.

Comic Page

Masterpost

And we're back with another chapter! Things are ramping up a bit, and we have plans for probably the next dozen chapters in the works already with a few special events in the mix. Thanks for sticking around, and stay tuned for more. Hope you enjoy!

“A little to the left.” Tom hovered above the door and moved a massive cloud of dark blue balloons slightly over in the wrong direction, glancing up at her to check. “My left, honey.” He nodded and shifted them back. A little more, a little more, and… “There. Nice work, Tommypoo,” Wrathmelior affectionately growled in her native tongue while reaching down to rustle her smiling son’s hair. When Tom suggested throwing a party for a friend she hadn’t met yet, the same boy who had been the subject of quite a few mother-son heart-to-hearts in years past, some old concerns had bubbled up in the back of her mind. But she couldn’t bear saying no for long, and it wasn’t long until she was more than happy to volunteer the Lucitor lake house for the occasion.

Tom’s enigmatic friend Janna popped her head out the front door with a sly grin that would put many of the devils Wrathmelior personally knew to shame. “Yo Tommypoo, can I get a hand at the snack table?”

All three of his eyes popped open and cast intense glares back and forth between Janna and Wrathmelior. “You even taught her that?” he groaned incredulously at the latter.

Wrathmelior smiled apologetically. “Sorry, sweetie. She’s quite persuasive.” Janna had been spending enough time in the Underworld that Wrathmelior had given her a few crash courses in conversational demonic, enough to get by on her own when she tagged along with whatever Tom was doing in the kingdom. Though she was still difficult to figure out, they got along swimmingly. So many humans seemed either too scared or concerningly excited about the lava, wings, and horns they might encounter down below, and Janna’s cool enthusiasm was refreshingly welcome.

“Guilty as charged.” Janna pointed finger guns at Tom as he walked through the door and they disappeared into the house.

Wrathmelior went into the more appropriately sized entrance into the kitchen, where by the time she arrived Tom and Janna were putting out plates and napkins. Her husband was there as well and had apparently been receiving a cooking lesson from Star for some time now, judging by the lecture she was giving him. “-can’t do this too early or the chips will get totally mushy and gross. Crunchy chips, molten cheese, crisp pico - all required elements for any Marco-approved nachos.” Star instructed before bending down to grab a tray full of chips out of the oven, setting it down on the counter next to the other supplies. “If you pour juuuuuust right, the cheese will get all in between the chips so you get a little with every bite.” Dave solemnly followed her work as the jumbo bowl was filled with a quantity of triangle chips, yellow goop, and vegetables that gave even the full-sized demon pause. “Voilà! Star’s Super Spectacular Nachos!” Everyone grabbed a sample chip, and just as she said, a little bit of everything seemed to work its way through the dish.

“Mmmmph,” Dave grunted. “These are good. Star, can you teach the castle staff how to make this marvelous thing?”

“Honestly, I’m not that good at it, Marco and I have just been cooking a ton lately. Campus food is both really expensive and really crummy.” Star stuck her tongue out in disgust. While the others, Wrathmelior included, tried and failed to stop eating, Star wandered through the living room and looked around at all the decorations and party games that had been set up, her grin only growing wider as she did.

Tom leaned against the stairs with his hands in the pockets of his teal shorts, smirked as he coolly observed the room. “We are preeeeetty good party planners, aren’t we?”

“Aww yeah we are!” Star skipped over and bumped shoulders with Tom. “But honestly this was mostly you. Marco’s gonna love it.”

“You think?” Tom’s cocky demeanor fell away to the earnestness underneath. “Ah, it was nothing. I mean, sure, we’ve got a private beachfront property, the most state of the art ping-pong tables in the world, a live Love Sentence cover band… I mean, who wouldn’t do this for their friend’s 17th birthday?”

Janna slurped the stretchy cheese off her last chip before chiming in from the kitchen. “You’ve been spending, like, every waking moment on it, dude. Feels like we haven’t even hung out in weeks, buuuut it is pretty cool. Remind me to call you when I’m in the mood to throw a grave rave.” He flashed a casual toothy smirk, but there was an extra glint in his eyes that caught Wrathmelior’s attention. Janna sauntered into the living room to join the others. “So what’s the special occasion, Tom?”

Whatever that look had meant, it was quickly replaced with sheer confusion. “Uh, Marco’s birthday? Did you get bit by a Hippocampotamus or something? Those things are nasty.”

The Earth girl rolled her eyes. “I mean why all the fuss? This is basically the one human teenage birthday that isn’t extra special.”

“Whatever. Just wanted to throw an ultra awesome party for one of my best friends because he’s a super cool guy.” He quickly averted his gaze, eyes drifting around the room until they stopped on the elegant family grandfather clock. “Probably about that time, ready for me to send you back?” he asked, glancing sideways at Star.

“Oooooone sec.” Star ruffled her hands through her hair, brushed sand out of her light blue blouse, and stuffed her sunhat and sunglasses into her purse. “Sand would blow my cover.” Pillars of fire erupted in the wide open area of the living room as Tom’s eyes glowed, and the familiar carriage he’d built himself once upon a time quickly spawned from the ground. “See you in a few!” Star climbed into the seat; one sizzling rush of air later and she was gone. The irony of Star using the vehicle Tom had delicately crafted once upon a time in the service of wooing her to pick up her human boyfriend wasn’t lost on Wrathmelior, but there was no point to harboring any negativity if Tom was happy with it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Wrathmelior saw a smug Janna sneaking up behind Tom. He lightly shrieked when she slapped him on the back. “Good job, Lucitor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go set up the traditional Diaz prank. I’m pulling out all the stops this year.” When she opened her jacket, his eyes widened at the various weapons, gadgets, skulls, and animals hiding within. One of them stuck its furry head out. “I became the alpha possum just a few weeks ago. Scooter here can smell red hoodies through walls, isn’t that right?” She scratched the creature’s head before closing the olive jacket back up. “So, you want in?”

“Nah,” he scoffed, waving his hands dismissively. “You go ahead, do your thing. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of the master.”

“You flatter me. Suit yourself, see ya,” Janna shrugged and slinked off elsewhere in the cabin, leaving just the Lucitor family behind. Tom milled about the cabin making minute adjustments to the decorations and furniture, seemingly to kill time more than anything. What had him so worked up? There was no time for Wrathmelior to ponder this question, though, as a loud swoosh from the outside signalled the arrival of the carriage before she could even collect her thoughts.

Tom perked up and bolted out the door while Wrathmelior took the larger exit out the side. Just as the carriage doors opened, Tom snapped his fingers and summoned a black cloth, blinding the boy within whom she presumed to be Marco. “What the heck, man?” Marco curiously started the famous sword-hand dance, but Tom floated over and past him to peek into the chassis.

“Wait, where’s Star?”

“Moon needed her for a little bit, she said she’d be ready pretty soon but said I should go ahead. Can you get this thing off me?”

“Right, right, sorry,” he stuttered while fumbling with the knot until it came undone. “Anyway, welcome to the Lucitor family lake house!”

“Surprise!” The Lucitors spoke in unison, although Wrathmelior knew she wouldn’t be understood. “Happy birthday!”

His eyes widened in wonder at the massive quantity of balloons and the big sign that greeted him. “Wooooah, you guys, you didn’t have to!”

Tom put his arm around Marco’s shoulder and began walking him towards the door. “Don’t worry about it. Oh, Marco, meet my mom and dad, Queen and King Lucitor of the Underworld.”

“My pleasure, young man,” Dave warmly stated as he stepped forward to shake Marco’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Wrathmelior growled out with Dave translating.

Marco waved up at her, possessing the same unflinching assuredness that she’d noticed in Janna. “Tom’s told me a lot about you, thanks for having me. Just one question. Is there-”

“Ping-pong?” They said in unison, both their faces breaking into wide smiles before they’d even finished the word.

“If the brand-new Dropshot 720 DX model with real-time trajectory tracking and RGB paddles counts, sure.”

Marco excitedly grabbed Tom by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth. “With optional holographic crowd simulator?”

“Duh. Marco, please, I’m not an amateur.”

“What are we waiting for? The ping ain’t gonna pong itself.”

“We’ve got snacks and music and all sorts of other things, too. Ha, now I feel kinda silly, putting all this together and being the only one here when you show up. I totally understand if you want to go with Star instead, I’d never try to get in the way of, you know, the whole thing you two have.”

The human boy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in response. “Tom, you’re one of my best friends and you’re throwing me a ping-pong birthday party. If you think I don’t want to kick your butt until we’ve broken every last ping-pong ball in the kingdom, you’ve got another thing coming, buddy.” Both glanced down when his stomach loudly rumbled. “...but maybe, um, we start with the snacks.”

Wrathmelior cooed at the exchange as Tom wrapped an arm around Marco’s shoulder and led him into the house. So much had changed in the past few years, both above and below ground. Even if her own home and kingdom had been affected to the same degree as those of the surface-dwellers though, none of it would compare in Wrathmelior’s eyes to what she’d seen out of her son. With the ample time she’d had to reflect since the state of the world settled down, she might even say that he’d been the more mature one between them. The last time she’d played doting demon mom over her son’s relationships had gone… regrettably, to say the least, and it had hurt like heaven when he broke the news of what had happened. Could anyone blame her for wanting things to work out with the girl he’d spent years chasing? Most shocking of all was that he hadn’t even talked to her about it beforehand. Before she could even realize it, he’d grown into a capable young Prince of the Underworld solving his problems all on his own.

“Surprise, Diaz!” The moment of solemn reflection was interrupted by Janna’s voice from inside the house followed by a series of crashes and girlish shrieks. “Go, Scooter, go!” As the chaos unfolded, she could hear Tom simultaneously laughing to the point of breathlessness and blasting fire to defend Marco.

While she still couldn’t help but worry that something seemed off with Tom today - a feeling compounded by how little experience she had not being the first one to know what might be going wrong in his life - it was surprisingly easy to push aside. With the friendships he had, she felt at ease knowing he could handle it.

***

“Lava snakes up above you, Tom!” Marco launched up into the sky with a flurry of sword strikes to stun the enemies while Tom floated over to cover. Tom’s mage dropped icicles from the ceiling to pin the first of the bosses to the ground for Marco to execute. “Thanks.”

Meanwhile, Janna’s character dropped a smokebomb and used the cover to sneak up and eliminate the ranged attackers with his shotgun. “These stupid alien crabs won’t stop spawning,” she growled.

“It’s fine, keep on them. Obsidian lizard to your right, Marco!”

One of Tom’s gifts to Marco had been Threat of Wet 2, the hit sequel to the original action game Threat of Wet. He initially hadn’t been sure if it would be his sort of game but it only took a few minutes of endless heart-pumping mob-slaughtering multiplayer action to be hooked. Even if he was having fun, he wasn’t great at it, judging by the amount of nervous sweat he had to wipe off his brow in a rare free moment between dodging deadly lasers and spikeballs. He used an uppercut to alley-oop the lizard into Tom’s laser blast before dashing and slashing through it for the kill.

“Little help?!?” Janna shouted, tossing a stun grenade at the ravenous pack of creepy jesters clawing at her and rolling under a fallen pillar to regroup with the team. The horde got distracted and chased after one of their mini fighter drones, giving the group a moment of respite.

“Last ones, I think,” Marco said with a grimace. “Not sure what the best move is here, they’ll obliterate me.”

Janna snapped a finger and pointed at Tom. “You think we can pull off Tamalebolge here?” Marco had no clue what she was talking about, but Tom’s mouth slowly widened into an eager grin as he apparently understood what she was trying to say. They nodded with conviction and turned back to the game.

“Set the smokescreens, I’ll get in position. Marco, just follow me.” He went along with it and hunkered his swordsman down between two clouds of smoke blocking their vision while Janna laid out more in a straight line with gaps in between. Janna maneuvered her character towards the spooky clowns and shot a single pellet at them to get their attention. Once they began charging over, Tom started unloading every spell he had while moving backwards in and out of smoke patches.

The clowns kept moving forward, but seemed to be stuttering in a way that prevented them from ever successfully landing a hit. In a moment of confusion while Marco tried to process it, he got bodyslammed into the ground and instantly killed. “You’re dead… that was embarrassing,” the game’s message on his corner of the massive screen in Tom’s media room taunted. What the heck were they up to, and why was it working?

“Almost… almost… no!” Tom’s thumb slipped on the controller and Marco could literally see the fire in his eyes at the mistake. At the last second Janna rolled under the legs of their enemies and stunned them just as they were about to slam, finishing them off and displaying a message to proceed to the next level. Their characters sauntered over to the exit and halted for a moment while Tom and Janna proudly hi-fived in celebration… and in the half-second they’d looked away, a thin blip of flame from a single floating wraith pierced through both, killing them instantly. “OH, COME ON!” Yep, this game certainly was unforgiving.

Janna busted out laughing and patted Tom on the shoulder. “Dude, take it easy, that was sick. You were right, this was pretty fun.”

“Told you.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but what the heck is Tamalebolge?”

“There’s this place called Tamalebolge on the outskirts of the Underworld, we stopped there for lunch one day after Mom sent me to give a big box of eyeballs to the mayor there. Dunno why a town needed 10000 preserved eyeballs, but whatever.”

On the other side of the couch, Janna scoffed resentfully. “Lucky town.”

“Anyway, they had this tamale that was a bunch of layers that got spicier as you bit in, and it hurts because each time you hit one layer you let your guard down for the next so you get that burning feeling a bunch of times in a row. In one of our trips to the Librarinth we got cornered by some Decimatals and had the idea to put up a bunch of walls of fire, since they could-”

“Could never adapt to the fire because it wasn’t steady,” Marco finished with a hint of awe as the pieces clicked into place. “Dang, that’s really smart.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Janna exclaimed in a monotone, not even looking up from her phone. “Alright, Marco, what did Star say she was doing exactly? She hasn’t even asked for any pictures yet.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Well, Moon said she needed to borrow Star for a bit, but that was a few hours ago so…” Suddenly the weirdness of Janna’s last statement - well, compared to the baseline he expected from her - struck him. “Wait, pictures?”

“Yeah, dude,” she coolly responded, leaning over Tom and showing him an album with… how many pictures of him was that exactly? 500? 1000? He looked away before any more could load to just stare in complete indignant shock at his friend. “Anytime we hang out without her, Star asks me to, like, take pictures of you and send them to her. You haven’t noticed by now? Damn, I’m just that good.” She smirked and twirled her phone around, blowing on it like a smoking gun before holstering it in her pocket.

Tom folded his arms and leaned forward to stare Janna down. “Really? Star asks you to do this?”

“Yes. Well, I started it first. And sent a new shot every few minutes for weeks. And now she’s so used to it that me not doing it makes her think we all got eaten by weresharks, so whenever I stop she always asks what’s wrong. So yeah, basically she asks for them.”

From Marco’s position reclined into one end of the sofa, Tom had to twist himself around to shoot Marco an incredulous look and nudge his attention towards Janna as if to beam “Are you really gonna just let that slide?“ directly into his brain. “Whatever, I’m used to it. The most surprising thing is that you actually, y’know, send them to Star."

Janna finally devoted her undivided attention on Marco for a few seconds, assessing him with her cold and enigmatic expression before sighing. “I already had them and Star’s madly in love with you for some reason so why not? What, Diaz, I’m not allowed to do nice things for my friends now?” Leave it to Janna to make being kind of normal and thoughtful still creepy and weird.

“You know what, I’m just gonna message her,” Marco said, walking out of the room to clear his head and pulling out his phone to check in on Star. She could certainly handle herself, especially with Moon there, but he was still curious what could be making her miss a lot of the celebration that she herself had helped set up. After he’d sent the first, he hastily added on a second asking if she needed him for anything. OK, so maybe a little worried. It surprisingly only took a second before his phone dinged with a response.

“Mina’s back. Long story, not what you think, we’re fine here 👍. Kinda crazy tho. 😵 Will tell you later. 😈 acting a bit strange, stay and try to see why? 🤔 Also have fun, it’s your party!!!!🎊🥳🎉🎈 Hopefully will be done soon, would never miss 👻rise with you 💕💞💏 Love you 😘🥰😻”

Mina? Every bone in his body wanted to leap into action, but Star knew her better than probably anyone; if she said there wasn’t a problem, he’d trust that. The fact that something was up with Tom, on the other hand, demanded attention. Was there something strange going on? It hadn’t occurred to him, but now that the idea had been planted in his head, Tom wasn’t the first person he’d have expected to go through all this trouble. He was a great and thoughtful guy, sure, but weeks of detail-oriented planning seemed... a bit out of place for him. Like Star said, though, he should still just enjoy the day and there’d be plenty of time to try and sleuth out whatever Star thought was going on.

“Hey, man,” Tom said as he poked his head around the corner. “We’re going surfing, wanna come with?”

“Sure Tom, just one tiny problem: the water here is lava-”

Tom only smiled wider in response. “Come on, you’ll see.” The two headed outside where Wrathmelior and Dave were sunba- uh, stalactitebathing, he supposed? Marco wasn’t sure what the point was underground but, hey, maybe it was a demon thing. Janna, too, had already made her way outside and stripped down to an outfit more suitable for a lava beach. She appeared to be rubbing some sort of neon red goop all over herself, which stupefied him so much that he barely noticed she was wearing a pair of hot pink shorts. What kind of bizarro world had he entered?

When she finally noticed him, he quickly averted his gaze to avoid any suspicion. “Yo, Diaz, liking the view?” Too late. She put a cap on the bottle of goo and nodded in the direction of the lake. What was she up to? As Marco warily followed, he saw Tom swimming around in the lava unfettered. All of a sudden, Janna started running with intent towards the lake.

“JANNA, NO!” Marco surged forward to try and stop her but she had a headstart and was surprisingly fast on her feet. When she kicked off the sand to hurl herself into the lava, Marco’s eyes instinctively squeezed shut and let out a whimper despite knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that she had to have some sort of plan.

When Marco opened his eyes, Janna was completely unharmed and lazily treading lava. She ducked under to sneak up on the lazily backstroking Tom, rising up to grab him by the horns and dunk him. He flailed for a minute before bobbing back up and taking a big gulp of air.

“Janna, what the here?!? Not cool...” he paddled to shore and shook the excess molten rock from his ears before standing with Marco, careful to keep his distance since he still had some residual slag on him. “Can you believe that?”

There was no other way Marco saw fit to respond to that than look of pure incredulity. “Yes? Always? So, anyway, how is she not dead right now?”

“Full cocktail of fire and heat resistance. Mostly Earth sunscreen with some demon incantations courtesy of my parents. Seeps in and affects your hair and innards and even any tight clothing for perfect safety. There’s enough for you too, if you want.”

As if today couldn’t get any crazier, disbelief morphed into fight or flight instinct as he tried to keep himself calm. “...so I’m just supposed to rub something Janna is giving me all over my body… and- and then jump into lava? Are you insane? What if it makes my tongue sentient, turns my legs into pudding, o-o-or worse? Oh my gosh, i-it’s gonna kill me-” Well, so much for calm, the sole bit of his mind hanging on to rationality offered.

“Woah, man, easy. Deep breaths. Just offering.” Tom gently patted his back until his breath steadied. He sighed and looked away. “For the record, Janna is a pretty good friend, you know. I’ve actually liked doing all the princely political crap when she’s here, and- and she does help. A lot, actually. I get that she likes messing with you, and honestly dude, it is pretty funny sometimes. If you don’t want to risk it, I totally respect that, but…” Marco followed his gaze out towards the lake where Janna was trying to befriend a wandering hellbat. “She really does care, in her own way.” There was an emotional conviction there that impacted Marco on a level he wasn’t prepared for, and even after a lifetime of wariness around Janna he found himself trusting more in Tom’s vote of confidence in the here and now… plus lava surfing did sound pretty awesome. Was this what Star had meant about his behavior today? He made a mental note before turning his focus back to the present dilemma. In all his time as an interdimensional adventurer he’d piloted dragoncycles, trained in combat with the sharpest swords he’d ever seen, and flipped a horse made of pure magic while floating on the back of one of his best friends. Why not go for this?

“Alright, let’s do this,” Marco said, marching over to the towel that had been laid out on the sand and cautiously picking up the bottle at arm’s length as though it was a radiation hazard, which he couldn’t even be sure it wasn’t.

The bottle floated up out of his hands on a puff of smoke guided by Tom’s magic. “Heads up, though, the souls of the damned mixed in there can bleach pretty badly, so maybe don’t wear anything you care about. Janna ruined my perfectly good ‘cold as ice’ shirt testing it,” Tom pouted. Marco stripped off his hoodie and goblin dog t-shirt, finding them far too valuable to damage.

I didn’t care about these swim trunks that much anyway, he internally grumbled while he snatched the bottle from Tom and gingerly applied it to his skin. After giving the first gentle dab on his arm a minute to verify he didn’t turn into a pig-goat, he reluctantly spread it around the rest of his body. He was surprised to find that it soaked in even easier than regular sunscreen despite its incredibly visible color. The even more daunting step was trusting it to protect his skin from literal lava. Tom held up a small flame in his hand. Marco instinctively recoiled but allowed Tom to bring it closer as a test, and sure enough even once it came in direct contact with his skin he felt nothing beyond a weird air current and a gentle warmth with no damage left behind. The only step left was taking the plunge. Now or never, Diaz, he chanted as he walked towards the edge of the sand.

“Aww, does Marco need floaties?” Janna goaded, having moved back into wading level to witness Marco’s entry. One toe went forward, very delicately. Almost, almooooooost… and it was in! It probably took about 10 minutes for Marco to fully immerse himself in the boiling liquid, mostly by choice, although its viscosity made the prospect of freely swimming around seem tiring regardless of magical protection.

Tom’s parents had approached the shore during that time and applauded Marco’s efforts. Wrathmelior made some deep rumbling sounds that caused Tom and Janna to both snicker. Tom noticed Marco’s frown and waved reassuringly. “She just said you’re moving slower than the lava itself, but don’t worry dude, you’re only the second human who’s even tried this. You’re doing great!” Tom motioned towards his parents before taking a running leap into the lake and paddling over to Marco, patting his back and inviting Marco to hop on. “Remember that move we practiced? The Screeching Bat?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Think we can use it here?” he asked, pointing to the beginnings of a massive wave forming in the distance.

Despite all his reservations about every step thus far, one thing he knew he could always trust was his and Tom’s teamwork. They’d had each others’ backs even when their friendship should have been shattered to pieces by guilt and heartache, and it had only improved from there. Deep breath, Diaz. “Let’s do this,” he confidently declared, climbing onto Tom’s lower back and bracing his legs under Tom’s arms while he assumed his usual four-limbed propulsion flight position. “Wait, where’s Janna?”

As the rippling sea started to form a recognizable wave, the pair saw a creature emerge to ride the peak with Janna on its back. “I’m QUEEEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD!” she screamed as the three-headed sea-turtle-esque animal carried her along.

Wrathmelior waved her giant camera in the air and made another comment that instantly left Tom with face a few shades redder than normal as he turned away. Being new to the whole “dipping skin in lava” experience, Marco’s focus was too scattered to trust his own judgment on whether or not Tom’s reaction was just a trick of the heat. He didn’t have time to dwell on it further before Tom jostled under him. “Whatever. C’mon, Marco, let’s just do this thing. Keep steady and don’t push down too hard, the heat doesn’t bother me but it’s still not fun having my face skid on molten rock at highway speeds.” Marco nodded and Tom lifted them off of the surface before flying over to the waves, picking up speed as they went.

They lost track of time as they did loop-de-loops and pushed their moves to the limits, swimming over and under and through the most insane ocean waves Marco had ever seen. At one point, as Janna rode closer to the ground, Tom followed the curve of a wave until he was upside-down under the crest of the wave as it crashed down behind them. Marco let go of Tom’s neck and felt his heart pounding as he straightened out, letting his body dip down in their signature trick that earned this flight pattern its name. Come to think of it, this was the first time they’d even made use of any of the awesome combat patterns they’d spent weeks naming and practicing in the last year, but they’d had enough fun goofing off in the sky that it was its own reward. When the largest wave yet approached, Tom veered straight for it and carved a hole in it with a fire blast at the last second. Marco tucked himself closely onto Tom’s back as they blasted through, and he was so high on adrenaline that he couldn’t help but sit straight up and holler in victory right afterwards.

As it approached an hour since they’d set out onto the lake, they all headed back at Tom’s suggestion that the potion’s effect wouldn’t last. They were greeted with another assortment of snacks and drinks from Tom’s parents, giving their swim trunks some time to… whatever the lava equivalent of “dry” was... in the comfort of the living room. Janna grabbed a glowing green glass bottle and took a huge swig. Marco’s wary gaze on its contents must have lasted a bit long because Janna took notice. “Chill, this is just Underworld cow’s milk. Tastes the same as ours.” If anything, that freaked him out more, but he’d had enough of these moments throughout the day that he could just put up with it at this point. As Tom approached with some sort of large bug shells on a plate - thank heavens the Underworld imported Earth snacks now - Janna silently looked him up and down a few times. “So, Lucitor, I didn’t know you had those moves. If I knew you could float upside-down so easily…” she trailed off with implications Marco didn’t feel like trying to unpack. Tom could only babble incoherently in response until he sprinted off deeper into the house. “Ooooor not,” Janna grumbled before sinking into the couch and taking a swig.

“Is everything OK with Tom?” Marco hesitantly asked.

“Beats me. Lately we’re just on mission after mission with no time to stop and catch our breath or even get a bite to eat in-between. Can’t believe one lousy year has already made him such a workaholic. Even Star only got like this when she thought, like, the entire kingdom would collapse or something.” She grabbed her phone as it buzzed, frowning at the screen. Suddenly, she took a photo of Marco and tapped her screen a bunch of times, standing up as she shoved it back in the back pocket of her shorts.

“What was that?”

“That was Star, she apparently needs me to bring a few of my more… let’s just say noxious potion blends, in case of some kind of emergency. But first she wanted to make sure the lava surfing didn’t damage your abs.” She faked a gag response and rolled her eyes. “And she also said, and I quote, ‘Tell Marco he doesn’t need to come because he should reeeeeally take care of the thing, and that I’m suuuuuper sorry for skipping out on you, and that we’re aaaaaalmooooost done here, and then we can cuddle up for the Soulrise.’ Normally I’d pry about ‘the thing’ but I’m too nauseous right now. Also, an ‘I love you’ filled with hearts until the character limit, so that settles it: me reading that is the next five years of birthday presents, minimum, for both of you. You’re welcome.” She punctuated with a snap of her fingers and a rumble grew louder until a chasm opened up in the ground and Tom’s carriage rolled up the side.

“Since when could you-”

Janna winked and hopped in the carriage door as it vanished in a column of flame, leaving only Marco behind. He had hundreds of questions and concerns about Star’s situation, but between her continued insistence on staying behind and what Janna had just said, his certainty was growing that something fishy was afoot with Tom. Where might his friend go if something was troubling him? This could take an hour, no, all day to crack the case, but Marco was ready to sleuth harder than ever to solve this mystery.

One guess and thirty seconds later, Marco found Tom sitting on the couch in another one of the lounge spaces in the lake house, manipulating two paddles to play ping-pong against each other. Leaning against the wall, Marco observed as the simulated crowd went wild in stark opposition to Tom’s joyless expression that alternated between the match and his own lap, never once noticing his friend to his side. After a few more minutes of this, the announcer enthusiastically cheered for the victor of the round.

When the system rebooted, Marco made his move. “Playing without me?”

Tom glanced up from the table. “Wuh? Oh, hey.”

“Wanna play?”

“Well, obviously I would, but, um, I just… gotta…”

“What’s wrong, Tom?”

“Wrong? Me? Nothing’s wrong, Marco! Why would anything be wrong?” A puff of smoke shot out of his nostrils and clearly forced grin on the last word.

“C’mon, man. We both know something’s up. You’ve been acting all strange today.”

He threw his hands up with a defeated scowl creasing his eyes and face. “OK, fine, you got me. I stubbed my toe on the beach earlier and it really stings-”

“Tom.” Neither budged as they stared each other down. So it’s gonna be like that, huh? If he cloaked himself in bravado, then Marco just needed to find a way to open up that shell and draw the inner turmoil out. “You, me, first one to 6. If I win, you talk.”

Tom crossed his arms suspiciously. “Dude, you’ve literally never beaten me.”

“Yeah, well, then it should be easy for you. Whaddya say?”

“What do I get when I win?”

Marco gestured at the table humility. “I will officially give up any hopes of ever beating you and you’ll forever be known as King Pong.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll play. You’re going down.”

“Game on.”

"Let's see, ‘enter nickname’... Tom the Bomb? Seriously, man? I-"

Marco was interrupted by the fake stadium’s booming audio as the commentators began. "Welcome everyone to the championship bout where we will determine who is the true king of the ping."

“Hey, that’s my joke,” Marco whined pointlessly, drowned out by a second female announcing voice that continued without pause.

“On the away team, we have the human, the underdog to win it all this year, Marco Diaaaaaaaz! He’s got wicked topspin sure to send heads spinning and he’s hungry for the title. Never count out the man in red! Now on the home team, you know him, you love him, it’s the man with a plan to slice and dice you to pieces, it’s Prince of the Underworld Tom Lucitoooooooooor!”

Marco pointed incredulously at… well, everything happening around them. “Seriously, dude, are you sure this is even a computer?” Tom shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“We have a lot we could say up here about this long-awaited grudge match, isn’t that right, Janet?”

“That we could, Derek, but I’m sure all the lovely AI fans here don’t want all this AI blabber. They want some good old-fashioned ping-pong. Now let’s watch while Tom readies up the serve…” Tom deeply inhaled and exhaled a few times, then got into position on his end of the table. He crouched over slightly with the ball in one hand and paddle in the other, then tossed it up into the air and smashed it with the paddle. Marco jumped backwards to avoid the searing speed of the projectile that was aimed at him with a disdain reminiscent of the first time they’d ever played the game. If he’s gonna amp up his game with demon powers, I’ll just need to be better.

“Wow, what a scorcher right down the diagonal! I sure wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that, it’d fry my processor to a crisp!” Marco didn’t find a chance to start a volley on the second point, nor did his possession of the serve change the outcome in the slightest. When Tom got the ball back, he didn’t even use his paddle as his powers drove the ball directly sideways after the initial impact in Marco’s court. Marco called a timeout and turned away from the table in thought, stumped for solutions. This game was his idea, after all... The AI announcers irritated Marco with their constant humiliation of his skills, but one sarcastic jab struck an unexpected chord: “If he wants to beat Tom, maybe he shouldn’t be playing ping-pong.” He’d gotten nowhere trying to break through with blunt questioning and was doing a worse job trying to get past his confidence at the sport. But if there was a deep insecurity underneath that facade of confidence, maybe he needed to work on building that up instead.

Turning back to the table, he placed his paddle flat on the table for a moment. “Look, Tom, I get it. I can’t beat you at this game. I-I just didn’t want my best friend acting so bummed at a party he threw, OK? If winning here would cheer you up a bit, it’s match point. I won’t stop you. And- and maybe I’m not even the one to deal with this, since I know you usually talk to your mom about this sort of thing, but-”

“Marco, I-” He paused, started again, stopped, and stuttered his way through another half-dozen attempts at a sentence before falling silent and gazing at the floor. “Look, I’m not upset, everything’s fine,” he angrily said through gritted teeth. Tom grabbed the paddle and gracelessly swatted at the ball. Marco flinched and shut his eyes, ready to hear the announcers celebrate the clean sweep… but nothing. “Huh?” he wondered aloud before seeing a ball way off to his left. Had Tom just flubbed the serve? Tom tried once more, much less methodical in his swing. Marco swatted it back over the net and in Tom’s haste to return he spiked it directly onto his own court.

“...and in a shocking turn of events, it’s now 5-1, Lucitor! Now is Marco’s chance to turn it around!”

The three eyes in front of him glowed at the edges in anger, but the expression within wasn’t one Marco feared was directed at him. Marco centered himself and performed a straightforward serve to the edge of Tom’s court, and Tom managed to return it for the first genuine volley of the match, but a steep drop shot gave Marco his second point of the match. Tom grunted in frustration as Marco set up for the next serve, and he immediately lashed out with demon telekinesis but put too much power into it and sent the ball flying with an animalistic growl that betrayed more pain than fury, as if he was squaring off against himself and not Marco.

Tom flopped four serves in a row, leaving the game tied at 5-5. “Whatever it is, Tom, we can talk about it. You’re worrying me a bit, dude.” Tom didn’t even bother to return Marco’s next serve, putting the game at match point, win by 2.

“Just off my game. I told you, nothing’s wrong, there’s not anything I need to talk about right now,” his voice trembled. “I can do this.” Marco raised an eyebrow in a challenge to Tom, then served the ball in the exact opposite direction of the table. Bluff called. Tom hesitated a split second before sending his paddle soaring through the air around Marco’s head to make contact with the ball and fruitlessly swat it to the ground, giving Marco the point as the crowd went wild with cheers and boos at the performance. But Tom ignored all of that to toss himself onto the couch and buried his head in his hands, and Marco immediately dropped next to him.

“Dude, just talk to me,” Marco offered sympathetically.

“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this.”

“With what?”

With his face buried in a pillow, Marco didn’t catch anything more than “a-a” in response.

“What was that?”

“Janna,” he forced out as though the word caused physical grief.

He had been a bit weird around her specifically, but somehow Marco hadn’t come into this conversation quite expecting it. “Um, OK. Well, I get that… she gets on my nerves too, and since you’re spending so much time with her I totally get- oh.”

Tom sighed.

“Ooooooooh.” It was all Marco could say as his mind raced to process the new developments.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you-”

“Neither did I, but here we are.” Marco placed an arm around Tom’s shoulders to try and comfort him, and Tom merely returned a lopsided smile, opting to sit in silence while Marco wracked his brain for an idea of how best to respond. “When I…” Tom hesitantly spoke up but immediately faltered, taking a moment to regroup mentally. “My whole thing with Star went for, like, two years, and looking back I kind of feel like I was an idiot every second of it. Every time I got caught up in that dumb crush it just messed things up more. Like, remember that big monster party she threw? I was too hung up on dancing to even worry about what my friends needed.”

“Look, Tom, we all did lots of dumb stuff back then-”

The half-demon sunk into the couch, shrugging Marco’s arm off of him and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, sure, but at least you and Star were only completely clueless about how much you guys love each other, and even that was at least a little bit my bad too! A year after Star and I broke up the first time, she came back to Mewni as this confident and charismatic person, and I didn’t even know how to do anything besides flounder around doing nothing when she wasn’t around. Ever since I put all that stuff behind me, it’s- things have been going great!” Tom paused for a second after his voice cracked sharply. “Janna’s clever, she’s actually really thoughtful sometimes, she’s the funniest person I know, and she helped me realize I actually kind of like doing all the stuff that a prince is probably supposed to be doing. And here I am, the buffoon with a crush yet again.”

Marco had a few differences of opinion on the details, to put it lightly, but the sentiment struck a chord. “It’s- it’s never easy. I mean, there was a part of me that felt like I couldn’t even be regular friends with Star anymore for a while ‘cause it just kinda sucked to keep getting reminded of those feelings.”

“Really? Never would have thought.”

“Yeah, well, me too. But that did get better after, well, the booth…”

“So I just have to find a photo goblin and kiss her then, got it.”

“Not my point, Tom,” he retorted with a light punch in the arm, both of them smirking; it was still a sensitive topic, but this seemed to be helping Tom shake off the worst of his anxieties at the very least. “You’re being too hard on yourself, man. Literal hours after we met, you tried to kill me for dancing with a girl you weren’t even dating, then you saved me from a rampaging monster who then proceeded to get turned into a baby.”

“Has that ever stopped being kinda messed up?” Tom quickly interjected.

“Not really, no. But even if all that stuff you said is true, which it isn’t, anyone would still be lucky to have a friend like you. If you think you’re not a good enough friend for Janna or whatever, you’re wrong, and if you think you might screw something up, maybe you will but that doesn’t mean you should just give up those feelings. Take that from me.”

With a giant huff of air, Tom ran a hand through his hair, body language still displaying loads of tension even if he was being more open about his problems. “I’m not- I don’t want to just walk away entirely, but… When I went on that trip by myself right before Earth and Mewni merged, when I was just chilling on a hill in some dimension out there looking up at a thousand stars disappearing behind the horizon, I finally realized that what I wanted most was to find someone I could share that sort of moment with, even if it’s not romantic. Someone I could just sit next to without saying a word and still feel like we were doing something special.”

“Yeah…” Even though Marco had a great respect for his friend, it never ceased to amaze him how potently reflective and sensitive he could be, especially for someone who’d once been every human’s worst stereotype of a rage-filled demon monster. The words made him think of Star, who he could spend every single day with doing absolutely nothing and never get bored. Who was always there to lift him out of his lowest times, celebrate his best, and everything in between. Who would always be his very best friend, so long as they both shall live. Tom deserved every bit of happiness that Marco had discovered came with that kind of relationship, and if he could find it with Janna then Marco would be behind him all the way. “These things can take time, it did for me and Star.”

“No offense dude, but did it? You were best friends, like, seventeen hours tops after you met, and I bet even when things were at their worst you knew it, too. I like Janna, a lot, but I don’t know if that’s the sort of thing we have in the first place. And if I’m not sure of that, then I might be risking a friendship for something I’m not even sure would be good for me.” All three of Tom’s eyes sparkled their plea as he finally turned to fully face Marco, who returned the favor. “What do I do?”

“...really, Tom, I’m not sure.” Jackie, and Kelly, and the Curse… he’d had a lot of doubt in what he wanted most, for sure, but Tom was right about one thing: even if he hadn’t realized it, that unshakeable certainty in Star’s friendship somewhere in the core of his being had gotten him through whatever life threw at him. Without that, he shuddered at the thought of what might have been. “If you think saying something is a bad idea right now, then don’t. Just promise me one thing, OK?”

“Mhmm?”

“If and when you do feel confident that saying something to her is what you want to do, don’t wait, OK? If she really is your best friend, don’t hide it from her. That’ll only hurt you both, and that is 100% Marco Diaz first hand advice.”

Tom pulled Marco into a tight hug, clapping him on the back a few times for emphasis. “Thanks.”

When they broke apart, Marco kept a hand extended to Tom’s shoulder. “You can always join me and Star for sunset-watching, too, if you want. They might not be the same as one thousand at once, but Earthni’s are pretty amazing.”

“Might take you up on that. Feeling a lot better already, to be honest. Don’t feel like I need to avoid being around Janna anymore.”

“I’m glad.” Marco felt his phone buzz and check

“Awwww, isn’t that heartwarming, folks? It just warms my neural net. With that healthy of an approach to love, I don’t think there’s a wrong play Tom could make here. He’s got a good spin on the ball to angle that shot exactly where he needs it to go. What do you think, Janet?”

“Right you are, Derek, this is a truly remarkable sight seeing these two guys talk about their feelings. Usually we see young players put all their focus into fast smashes without buckling down on the fundamentals and getting a good, clean drive. If he can just find someone to lob, I think he’ll be alright. What do you say, all you people watching out there?”

“JANTOM! STARCO! JANTOM! STARCO!” The crowd chanted in unison, some even holding up signs. Were those doodles of their faces?

Notice of the loud noise startled the boys. Had they been watching the whole time? “What the-” they both exclaimed in utter shock as they jumped up and struck defensive poses.

One spectator ran up to the edge of the holographic projection with a pair of fake horns. “I LOVE YOU TOM PLEASE MARRY MEeeeeeeeeeuuuuu...” Marco yelped as the control console exploded from one of Tom’s fire blasts, causing the shrieking voice to trail off into a deep robotic crackle. Both breathed heavily as their eyes, wide with fear, flickered all around the ping pong setup in search of any other hidden dangers. When his heart had stopped racing enough for him to feel any external sensations again, Marco felt a vibration in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Oh, hey, Star’s ready for the Soulrise, which is in… forty minutes? Holy crap.”

“Sorry you spent so much of today dealing with my stuff.”

“Hey, anytime. I’ve always got your back.”

“C’mon, at least let me feel bad about this.” The pair each put an arm around the other’s shoulders and grinned at the warmth of friendship. Well, and the warmth of the flaming wreckage in front of them.

“I’ll get the carriage for them, but first, um, can you help me with one more thing?”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should throw this thing into the lava ocean?”

“You read my mind.”

***

How long had it been since she’d last seen a Soulrise? Despite her lifespan as a demon, she had never understood the fuss. Last year Relicor had discovered that the merging of dimensions had shifted the surface geography enough to make the Soulrise visible from their lake house, and it was only the sheer convenience that kept her here. As the winged skeletons danced above the lake, Wrathmelior could certainly admit it was a charming display, but was it really that different than anything else one could find in the Underworld if they only looked around them? Still, it was nice to spend an evening on the sands of their own private beach with her husband and a pretty display of spirits. But where was Tom?

“Hey, Lady and Lord Lucitor, thanks for everything today.” She looked down at the sound of Marco’s voice and saw him escorting a half-asleep Star with mud caked onto her skirt.

“Why yes, Roy, I- zzzzzz - would like all fifty flavors of goblin dog, thankszzzzz,” Star mumbled as she drifted in and out of sleep. Her eyes slowly blinked open and stared at the boy’s face. “Oh hi, Mr. Pillowzzzzzz…” She was visibly drooling into Marco’s hoodie as she clutched his torso tightly.

Dave stood up and went around Wrathmelior’s legs to see what was going on. “What happened to her?”

“Had a really long day dealing with an old enemy, I think. Didn’t get too many details before she fell asleep on me. Can you send us home, if it’s not too much trouble?”

“No, you’re adorablezzzz… wait, home?” Blonde hair whipped around her face as she jolted awake with a mortified expression. “Ugh, Marco, nooooo, it’s your birthday and I said I’d be heeeere and I can totally stay…” She trailed off into a massive yawn and firmly pinched her cheeks. “...awake.” She hung her head shamefully, turning away from him but leaving his arm hooked around her waist that was keeping her upright.

Marco smiled and spun her around to face him. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You should rest, don’t force yourself to do this.”

“Nighty tightyzzzzzz...” Star hooked her arms around his neck and drifted off to a deeper sleep.

“I can summon the carriage, but I’m afraid I don’t know where you live,” Wrathmelior grumbled with her husband translating. Now that she had a glimpse, she could understand a bit better what Tom had meant when he said those two had something special.

“Oh, right, duh. Um, the Monster Temple then? We can stay there tonight.” He put an arm behind Star’s knees and lifted her up, using her unconscious grip on his neck for leverage.

Wrathmelior nodded and began to tap into her well of demon magic to yank Tom’s carriage from its usual den deep in their home when Dave spoke up, catching her attention. “Did you want to say goodbye to Tom, too? I don’t know where he ran off to.”

Something above her caught Marco’s eye, causing him to beam at the sight. “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just call him tomorrow.” Wrathmelior craned her head to look behind her; Tom and Janna were sitting together on the roof, not saying a word. Even from a bit of a distance, it was plain to see that Janna was completely enraptured by the whirling vortex of shrieking ghouls while Tom was spending just as much time taking in her reaction as he was the event itself. If neither had noticed the commotion on the ground now, nothing in all the dimensions would do the trick.

“It’s just a Soulrise,” Wrath muttered, communicating through Dave.

After entering the carriage, Marco cast one long look at his friends. “Yeah, but they’ve earned this one.”

#starco #jantom #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #tgg svtfoe #wonder if we'll see how star's day went? ;)#fanfic

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Linked - Chapter Two

Rating: M (smut, language, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @lancefvckertvcker-blog @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @wowspideyholland @smilexcaptainx@shirukitsune @chook007 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

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Bucky and Levi find themselves connected through tragedy, can they let go of the past to find their future????

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I have not added to this since last September, shame on me!! Reread Chapter One here and let me know if I should continue with the story.

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING? The voice in Bucky’s head screamed. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY NO! DANGER, DANGER! You don’t want to get involved with this! She doesn’t want you; YOUR WIFE KILLED HER HUSBAND... HER HUSBAND KILLED YOUR WIFE. WALK AWAY!

His mind was screaming loud enough that it wouldn’t surprise Bucky if Levi could actually hear his thoughts and he winced internally as he caught sight of her hand, clutching white-knuckle tight to her messenger bag.

Shit.

Despite his misgivings, Bucky nevertheless sat at the table the hostess indicated, pausing awkwardly as he debated holding out Levi’s chair for her. She sat quickly, however, as if expecting him to offer and not wanting it. King clamored into his own chair; reaching for a menu, asking for a chocolate milk and maintaining a rundown of the best parts of their game all at the same time and Bucky couldn’t hide a smile. He would rather rip his tongue out by the roots than admit it, especially in his present company, but King had become very precious to him in a short amount of time and he very much looked forwards to seeing the little guy. Maria had been totally against the subject of children, but Bucky had always wanted to be a dad. He needed to be careful though, he knew, for this was a minefield he wasn’t sure he would ever be either ready or able to walk through.

“What do you want, Coach? I want pizza!”

“King, keep it down.” Levi chastised gently.

“Sorry, mom.”

“It’s alright, just use your inside voice, okay?”

“Okay.”

Levi’s eyes flicked unwillingly towards him. “What do you want, Mr. Barnes?” She asked softly, sounding nervous.

Jesus, doll. You. “Call me Bucky, please. Pizza sounds good...?” Bucky offered shyly.

Pizza safely ordered (half-pepperoni, half-Hawaiian – gross, mom!), Bucky cleared his throat and asked tentatively, his heart hammering in fear. “How are you liking it here so far?”

Levi looked startled for a micro-second before answering. “It’s nice. I met Nat and Steve right away, so that made everything so much easier, I-” a loud chime interrupted her, and she flushed. “Sorry.”

Bucky watched as Levi reached down and rustled in her messenger bag, pulling out a tablet and tapping quickly at it before tucking it back inside.

“Sorry about that,” she repeated. “That was a client.”

“What do you do?” Bucky blurted, his nerves loosening his tongue. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s alright. I’m a graphic designer; but lately I’ve been designing a lot of book covers.”

“Like novels?”

“Yeah, just small time. First-time authors, independents, people that haven’t really made it big yet.”

“How does that work?”

Levi flushed, glancing down at her glass before answering, her fingers toyed with the condensation forming at the base, drawing small but enchanting patterns. “I’m compiling a catalogue of images and pictures of subjects; I snagged some professional editing software a while ago and can manipulate a stock image fairly realistically. Some are live models, others are no-license. The client emails me what they’re looking for, I make something up and send them a few choices; it’s fairly straightforward really.”

“Live models... like pictures of real guys, like Fabio?”

Levi giggled, a sound that arrowed straight into Bucky’s heart. “Not that famous, but a few wannabe models have let me take their picture, usually in exchange for a series of headshots. They get their portfolio; I get a few brooding pics.”

“Shirtless?” Bucky wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the idea intrigued him.

“Yes, mostly. Why, are you volunteering?” Levi snapped her mouth shut in shock. What the fuck is gotten into you?

Now Bucky flushed, eyes flicking to Levi’s for a heartbeat; a shy grin pulling at his mouth and the sight arrowed straight into Levi’s heart. “Think I’d make it?”

Fuck, yeah. But I don’t want to share. "I think you’d do. Romance readers love a dark and handsome mystery.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Bucky teased, loving the way Levi’s face went so adorably red, her amethyst eyes widening as she realized her slip.

Finally, the universe took pity; Levi was saved from answering by the arrival of their pizza and King’s triumphant shout.

The next few minutes were spent eating, King devouring his slice with typical 5-year-old gusto.

“How do you like coaching so far?” Levi asked, wiping tomato sauce from her bottom lip, something Bucky suddenly and desperately wanted to do with his tongue.

Bucky struggled to focus on her question and not her plump lips and what they would look like wrapped around his cock.

What the fuck, dude???

“A lot actually. I didn’t expect to, honestly; I was just going to help Steve out a bit. I played soccer in high school and a bit for my university team, so I guess he figured I knew what I was doing.”

“You played for your university? You must have been good.”

Bucky flushed. “Yeah,” he hedged, unsure whether he should mention that he had already been drafted in the pros. “But I busted up my knee pretty bad and decided to get out.”

“That must have sucked.” Lev offered quietly, looking surprisingly upset at the news.

Bucky nodded, clearing his throat. “I lucked out with a good surgeon. I signed up for the military and, after a couple of tours I got out and into security. Mostly I just consult now.”

“Is that how you met Steve?”

Bucky couldn’t stop a wide smile. “Yeah, he wanted me to review and streamline the security system for his business.” He hesitated before adding, “I was always pretty mobile with that anyways, consulting all over the country, sometimes the world. I didn’t need to stay in one place, so... it made it easier when I decided to move… after-”. He broke off, Levi would know exactly what he meant without him spelling it out.

“Yes.” Came her quiet reply. “I understand... About that, did you ever-”

“No.” Bucky kept his voice gentle even as his heart raced. “Not now, please.”

Levi nodded shyly, her cheeks going pink. King had fallen silent, looking between the two adults, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a pizza slice forgotten in his hand.

Levi sent Bucky a beseeching look. She’d not told King who Bucky was. At most, he knew that his coach’s wife had died, but he didn’t know that she’d taken his father with her.

“Nothing, buddy.” Bucky grinned in King’s direction, but Levi could see the faint tightening at the corners of his eyes. Fortunately, King, who was uncannily observant, even for a child, took Bucky’s lie at face value and happily tucked back into his pizza.

‘Sorry,’ Levi mouthed, and Bucky shook his head gently, returning quietly to his pizza.

Lev refused to let Bucky pay for full bill, insisting on half and completely crushing any thoughts that this had been anything but an entirely platonic meal.

But, whether by luck or serendipity, they found themselves again at May’s after the next game, sharing a table due to King’s enthusiastic ‘Coach! Sit with us!’ that he’d bellowed across the room.

The third time was planned, and Levi felt herself almost ashamed at how much she began to look forward to aftergame pizza with Coach Barnes.

*****************************************************************

King ran ahead, hollering at the top of his lungs to his teammates, who shouted and yelled back. Levi followed behind, trudging really, she’d not gotten much sleep last night, and stumbled, biting back a surprised squawk, when a soccer ball connected suddenly with her temple. She staggered, clutching at her head but the ball hadn’t been flying with too much force and it had startled her more than anything else.

“Hey!” Bucky appeared like magic, the offending ball in his hands. He touched her shoulder, peering into her face with concern. “You okay?”

Lev nodded, not wanting to make a scene, she probably could have avoided being hit if she’d been more cognizant of the field, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Fucking Seymour. I’ll handle this.” He marched over to the nearby group of players and spoke in low, furious tones to them, starting in on their coach, obviously the maligned Seymour, when he bumbled over, trying to cover up the fact that he’d been too busy playing Candy Crush on his phone to monitor his players.

Lev continued walking, almost scurrying, picking up speed to avoid any other flying missiles and sat gratefully on her usual spot at the bleachers. Her eyes drifted to find Bucky,he was still speaking to the other coach and it was starting to look heated, but then Bucky took a visible deep breath and stepped back, obviously pulling himself away before things got out of hand. His eyes searched for her and he exhaled noticeably once he found her, moving unerringly to her side, concern evident on his handsome face.

“You okay?” He murmured, reaching up to brush where the ball had connected. His touch left goosebumps in its wake and Lev hissed at the contact, at the tingle of energy that frizzled between his fingertips and her skin. He seemed to feel it too, eyes widening slightly and pulled his hand away, not fully dropping it, gaze searching hers. “Lev?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention-” Levi ducked her head.

“Not your fault.” He retorted curtly. “Wayne Seymour needs to be watching his players better.” He visibly exhaled out his mounting irritation and leaned down to meet her eyes again. His brows drew together in question and he looked so startingly puppy-dog at that moment that Lev forgot how to breathe.

“James, I’m fine.”

His brows jumped slightly, nobody called him by his given name, he always corrected them and told them to call him Bucky, but hearing Lev say it made something inside him sit up and pay attention. Reluctantly, he drew away; he had to start coaching but right now he wanted nothing more than to stay beside her.

His hand, drifting without official orders, rested lightly on her knee for a beat before he pulled it away, startled by his actions. It wouldn’t do for the coach to be seen touching one of the player’s moms, but his hand suddenly ached as it was drawn away, tingling to touch her again.

“Pizza tonight?” He asked, stumbling over his words.

Lev studied him for a beat, her cheeks going adorably red. “We’ll see you there.” She replied softly.

***************************************************************

“Coach, can you come to my party?!” King asked excitedly, bouncing in his chair like it was a small trampoline.

Bucky took the empty chair at the table, mouthing a ‘Hey’ to Lev before focusing on King. “What’s that, Little Man?” He’d heard King babbling something about this during drills earlier, but he’d still been so caught up in Levi being hit that he hadn’t paid much attention.

“My birthday!”

Lev hushed King with a low shushing sound. “His sixth birthday, I’m planning a small get-together this weekend; King’s teammates, some school friends and their parents. You’re certainly invited, can you make it?”

“Of course.” He grinned down at King. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Yay!!”

“Kingston Sebastian Riel!” Levi hissed. “Tone it down.”

“Sebastian?”

“His father and I couldn’t agree. Brock wanted Kingston, I wanted Sebastian. We ‘compromised’.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

“I love that name.” Bucky smiled. That had been his name, whenever he’d indulged in picturing having children with Maria, naming his son ‘Sebastian Barnes’.

“I don’t need to use it very often; King usually knows how to behave in restaurants.” Lev replied, eyeing her son.

“Sorry, mom. Sorry, Coach.”

Lev’s serious demeanor broke and she ruffled his hair. “Inside voice, remember. I know you’re excited but we’re not the only people here, right?”

“Yes, mom.”

Bucky gazed at Lev while pretending to peruse the menu. She wasn’t like some of the other mothers out there, that let their kids get away with murder, ignored the little darlings as they ran around screaming and disturbing people, getting in screaming matches with bystanders that told her to rein in her offspring. She loved her son, that was obvious, and she loved him enough to actually parent him. That distinction mattered to Bucky, something that he probably would have argued with Maria about, had she ever agreed to having children. She had been raised to believe herself always correct, her parents always backing her, no matter if she was right or wrong in any situation, and it had chafed Bucky at times; something he found he could reflect back on now, with time, although with no less diminished guilt at remembering your dead spouse as anything but an absolute water-walking saint.

“Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” King announced. When Lev moved to stand, he continued. “I can go myself.”

Lev looked torn, then nodded slowly. “Wash your hands.”

King nodded once then disappeared.

“What can I bring?” Bucky asked.

“Sorry, what?” Lev pulled her attention away from the direction King had gone, focusing back on Bucky.

“What can I bring to King’s party?”

“Oh,” Lev cleared her throat, thinking for a moment. “Beer? If you want to drink any, I don’t have a lot hanging around and… I’m not sure how many are coming, but maybe a chair too. The backyard is pretty big and there should be room, but you never know.”

“Any food?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” Lev’s lips curled in a small smile and Bucky wasn’t surprised to feel his heart skip suddenly in his chest. This had been happening more and more around her and he was losing the strength to fight it.

“What does the Little Man want?”

“You don’t need-”

“I want to.”

Lev chewed her bottom lip before answering. “He talks a lot about some ‘Ronaldo’ guy?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard him during practices. Cristiano Ronaldo, he’s a famous Portuguese soccer player. Think he’d like a jersey?”

“He’d probably never take it off. But James, seriously-”

Bucky leaned forwards suddenly, resting his hand onto of Levi’s and startling her silent. “Please. I’d like to.” A little awkwardly, he pulled his hand back, straightening slowly in his chair, cheeks heating.

“Do you have any children, James?” She asked, abruptly but not unkindly.

“No.”

“Did you ever want any?”

Bucky traced the edge of his glass, staring hard at the liquid inside. This seemed both an insanely private question to ask, but also one he didn’t mind answering, at least for her. “Yes. Maria-”

“I’m back!” King announced, as if he’d trekked to Papua New Guinea and was just now arriving home, footsore and weary from outrunning cannibals.

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, mom.”

A part of Bucky was insanely grateful when the pizza arrived moments later, and he was saved from further discussion of children he’d wanted but never had the chance to have.

*****************************************************************

Lev opened the door, a slight look of panic on her face and smiled widely when she saw who it was.

“Bucky, hey! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

He’d thought about it; for some reason, after their last pizza ‘date’, he’d spiraled down into a dark shame, one he’d not felt since those early months immediately after Maria’s death. It must have been because of Lev’s question, harmless as it was for someone you could consider a friend, someone you shared dinner with on the semi-regular now, to ask; but it had triggered something inside him, a buried guilt, a hidden tangle of emotions he’d been too afraid to grab and study up close, but King meant too much to him to bail and, if he was being honest with himself, Levi did too.

“Sorry I’m late-”

“No, it’s fine! I’m just a little-… I haven’t had a get-together like this since before…” She broke off, cheeks going pink and Bucky knew immediately what she meant, how she felt.

“Here, let me take that-” Bucky reached for the bags of chips grasped tightly in her fingers but she pulled away.

“No, thank you, it’s fine. You’ve got your hands full too.” She said, jerking her chin at the six-pack of beer and folded lawn-chair taking up most of his hands. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, gifting Bucky with a genuine smile. “Thank you for coming, I’m glad you’re here; and King’s going to go crazy.”

Their eyes met and held for a heartbeat and something warm flashed in Lev’s gaze, something that matched the tentative eagerness burning low in Bucky’s chest.

“C’mon in.” Levi shook herself slightly, as if breaking out of a trance and smiled a bit nervously. “I’ll be right out, just head on through the kitchen and out the back door. Everyone’s out there, you’ll see Steve and Nat right away.”

“Okay, thanks.” Bucky tried not to look as Levi sashayed in front of him, unaware of how the natural sway of her hips made adult thoughts flood his mind. Maria had not had curves like this, she’d been almost fanatical about calorie counting and restriction, resulting in a toned but unwelcomely bony body under Bucky’s caresses, but Lev was curvy, deliciously so, in all the right places. He didn’t mean to compare, but Maria had lamented to him many times about all the squats and lunges she did and how she still never achieved an ass even close to what Lev seemed to have naturally. His hands ached to touch her soft skin, trace her delicate lines and supple curves, lose himself in her feminine body.

A chorus of greetings hit him as he stepped outside and Steve launched himself at him, tearing Bucky from his musing as he prepared to collide against a brick wall, reaching Bucky in about two bounds; half-dragging him towards where he and Nat were seated, managing to yank the beer from his hands, open Bucky’s chair, push him to sit in it and slap him on the shoulder all at the same time.

A lot of the parents and kids Bucky realized he knew, mostly from soccer, and Nat and Steve introduced him to the rest. Most of the kids were screaming like banshees in a large bouncy castle set up in the corner of the yard, while others ran around holding all sorts of toy, shrieking at each other at the top of their little lungs.

Two tousled heads of hair, one chocolate brown, the other blond suddenly appeared at Bucky’s side, waving foam swords and screeching his name. It took Bucky a moment to recognize Steve’s boy, Hunter, and King, and then King was scrambling into his lap like a puppy, narrowly missing his balls.

“Coach! COACH!” He bellowed, as if Bucky were miles away across a shadowy moor and they were reduced to using only their voices for communication.

“Hey, Little Man.” Bucky leaned back from the dangerously waving weapon, thighs tensed to protect his jewels. He caught Steve’s smirk at his situation but then Hunter decided to do the same, leaping into Steve’s lap with the same reckless enthusiasm as King and Steve was suddenly too preoccupied trying to protect his own nads from destruction.

“You came to my party!”

“Yeah, buddy. I did.”

Grubby hands unexpectedly wrapped around his neck and Bucky suddenly didn’t care about anything else. Wrapping his arms around King, he basked in the little boy’s enthusiasm, the fondness for this child he’d held in his chest sharpening into something far more profound and intense.

When King finally scrambled back down and bounded away to rejoin his gang of rabble-rousers; Steve, who’d managed to detach his own son and send him on his criminal way as well, slapped his shoulder and grinned widely at him, making Bucky’s cheeks go pink.

Other parents eyed him with small smiles as well, making Bucky clear his throat self-consciously, and then Lev was back, falling into the empty chair beside Bucky with a laugh and a groan and his attention was immediately diverted, pulse beating just a little bit harder as he caught a hint of her scent; reminding him of sunshine and meadows of beautiful wildflowers.

Lev seemed more relaxed and a small, fleeting part of Bucky hoped it was because of him, but he pushed the thought away quickly. He couldn’t feed this wolf anymore; he couldn’t keep up with this idea that there was something between him and Lev. They were joined by tragedy, united by death and that was as far as it should go.

But if that was the way it was supposed to be, why was he so drawn to her? To her son? Why had he found his thoughts turning more and more to them, rushing into his mind first thing in the morning, the last scene to play in front of his eyes before he closed them at night?

Why, if this wasn’t ever supposed to be his, did he want it so badly?

Despite his turmoiled mind, there was enough going on in the backyard for him to push it aside, at least pretend it wasn’t gnawing insidiously at his brain and Bucky was surprised when he started to enjoy himself. He had avoided large crowds, big gatherings, since Maria’s death and had never truly been a social butterfly of his wife’s caliber anyway but, before he realized it, a few hours had passed and even the kids were starting to wind down.

King had looked adorable, pink-cheeked and grinning, as he sat in front of his cake, blowing out the candles with not too much spit thankfully, when his guests had finished singing. Some friend of Nat and Lev’s had made it, and had tasted surprisingly good, although the almost neon icing had taken more than a few hard sucks to completely pull the stain from your fingers.

Each present had been worth a cacophony of yells from both the birthday boy and his guests, but it had been the last one, Bucky’s gift that seemed to have the showstopper. When King had opened the gift bag and pulled out the pint-sized Ronaldo jersey, his eyes had gone huge and, when Lev had leaned over, murmuring to him who it was from, the little boy’s eyes had searched the crowd for Bucky and he’d scrambled from his chair to launch himself at him, crashing into his arms with a howl of pure excited glee.

“Thank you!” As fast as he’d landed in Bucky’s lap, King had again scrambled away, tearing off his shirt to yank on the jersey before snatching the new soccer ball from Uncle Steve and Aunty Nat and scampering away, leading a whole posse of screaming kids behind him

“Good job, man.” Steve murmured, leaning over to Bucky’s ear.

King had then bounded up to him, begging him and Uncle Steve to come play soccer with him and Hunter, and that had taken up Bucky’s attention until Lev called a game over and Bucky had finally looked around, realizing that almost everyone was gone.

“Mom. MOM?!” Hunter bellowed, running up to Nat. “Can King stay over? PLEASE?” He grabbed onto Nat’s shirt and tilted his head up, sending her an angelic look that left no doubt as to who his father was. Steve had used that same pleading puppy-dog look on Bucky last weekend when he’d begged him to help move an obnoxiously heavy fridge from his garage to the dump.

Nat glanced up at Lev, brow raised, and Lev smiled, shrugging. “If you think you can handle both little monsters tonight, go ahead.”

“Get your stuff, buddy.” Nat grinned.

“YAY!!” Both boys screamed, dashing into the house, barely avoiding a crash as they both tried to fit through the doorway into the house at the same time.

Bucky hovered, knowing he should be leaving but not able to muster the energy. He wanted to stay, even a bit longer and so far no one had zeroed in on him and demanded to know what he was still doing here. He watched with a fond smile as the boys reappeared, carrying an assortment of varied weapons and miscellany and shooting at each other with small Nerf guns.

“Did you pack any clothes?” Lev asked dryly, snagging King by the back of his shirt as he scampered by. He was still wearing the Ronaldo jersey.

“Clothes?” King asked, confused, peering up at his mother as if she’d suddenly started speaking a new language and Lev smirked. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Have fun today?” Nat asked Bucky innocently, stepping over to lean her back against Steve’s chest, who immediately wrapped his arms around her and dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head as he too awaited Bucky’s answer, a cat that got the canary grin on his big stupid face.

“Yeah, didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Insane?” Steve suggested.

“Loud.” Bucky finished. “I should know better, coaching half of them but still…”

“You’ll get used to it.” Nat replied, a knowing gleam in her eyes that made Bucky frown in confusion at her. Steve mumbled something in her ear, brow furrowed, and she just giggled, pressing a kiss to his chin and whispering back.

Lev reappeared, carrying a small backpack shaped like a Stegosaurus and called King to her. He skipped up, becoming serious when Lev dropped to one knee and gripped his upper arms gently, whispering earnestly and probably telling him to behave tonight. After a moment, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and the boy made a show of squirming away and wiping at his face, but the delighted grin on his face showed his true feelings.

A few minutes later, both yelling boys had been herded into the SUV and Bucky found himself standing alone beside Lev, waving as Steve and Nat backed out of the driveway and drove off with a honk.

“I should go.” Bucky mumbled, wanting to do anything but. He’d been spared any comments by Steve and Nat as they’d bundled the boys into the vehicle, but that didn’t mean he’d be safe later from any ‘observations’ they’d make of how he’d stayed later than them.

“NO,” Lev’s cheeks went pink “I mean…. stay for a bit, please. Today was so crazy we didn’t get any real chance to talk-” She trailed off uncertainly, her cheeks full on red now, matching the heat in Bucky’s face.

Twist my rubber arm, doll.

“Sure, okay.” He exhaled a little shakily, timidly, lips curving into a smile at Lev’s delighted grin.

“Go grab a seat, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky nodded, venturing into the backyard and sitting on the high-backed bench closest to the freestanding patio heater. The warm glow was comforting against the beginnings of twilight chill, while a firepit squatted nearby, ready to be lit as well.

Levi returned a few minutes later, carrying two bottles of beer and a blanket under one arm; then, after the briefest pause to peruse seating, plunked down on the same bench with Bucky and handed him a bottle.

“Here, try this.” She grinned. “An old friend of mine got me started on these oatmeal stouts; I didn’t have enough to go around.” She pulled the blanket between them. “Cold?”

Bucky gestured with his chin to the heater. “Nah, I’m good.”

Lev smiled, turning to face him and pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged. She squirmed for a moment to adjust the cushion at her back then opened the blanket to lay over her lap and settled back with a sigh.

“Thank you for staying.” She said quietly. “It’s nice to just sit down for a few minutes.”

“No problem.” Bucky mumbled, hiding his please grin behind another swallow. “This is good.” He nodded to the sweating bottle in his hand.

“I know, right?” Lev smiled, then fell silent, regarding him quietly long enough that Bucky felt the urge to start squirming in discomfort. “How are you doing?” She asked gently and Bucky knew immediately what she was referring to.

“Getting better.” He replied, his voice low. “Having work and the team to coach definitely helps. You?”

Lev nodded, then swallowed, looking suddenly uncomfortable herself. She glanced up at Bucky from under long lashes, looking surprisingly anxious. “I uh…” she cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t let you think the wrong thing about me and Brock, we…” she broke off, picking anxiously at a cuticle.

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion as he waited quietly.

“We weren’t like you and Maria, we weren’t… forever.” she finally continued, looking ashamed. “I was… I had divorce papers drawn up, I was ready to give them to Brock, but then he…”

Bucky stared for a moment, stunned. A thousand thoughts suddenly racing through his head. A small, secret little part of him rejoiced; Levi had been ready to leave her husband, akin to available, before his death. She’d already been looking to move on.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, knowing his words were totally inadequate and also, not truthful.

“No, it’s fine. We weren’t working out. I… I was young and stupid and thought the college boy I fell in love with would change, grow up with me. He wasn’t a bad guy, we just…. I was hopeful and naïve, and I forgave a lot.”

Anger burned low in Bucky’s chest; what had Levi been forced to ‘forgive’?

“It’s not stupid,” he began and, at Lev’s confused brow lift, continued. “Hoping someone will grow up, most people do.”

“I’m happy he’s gone.” She whispered in a rush then clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified. “I don’t mean it like that,” her eyes were huge. “I just…. It’s extreme yes, but… I don’t have to deal with him anymore, try and work with him over custody of King or anything.”

Bucky nodded, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “I understand, it’s alright.”

Lev wiped at her cheeks. “I mean, he would have fought me on everything, just to be a dick.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, but thankfully Bucky’s words seemed to have mollified her guilt. He never would believe she’d truly meant she was happy Brock was dead, she wasn’t that type of person, even if a small, secret part of Bucky was.

“How’s King doing, if I can ask that?”

Lev nodded. “No, it’s fine, you can ask. He’s… surprisingly good, actually. Brock was never really in his face anyway, never really a hands-on dad, so there wasn’t much to miss.”

“He didn’t help out?”

Levi shook her head, her tears finally stopping. “No. Not when King was a baby waking up all night hungry, or teething, never. He… I don’t know, he looked at King like an accessory or something. An object to compare to his friend’s kids. He didn’t like that King couldn’t walk as fast as his friend’s boy, or that he wasn’t using full sentences as soon as his boss’ daughter. Never mind that they weren’t the same age, King was never good enough for him, he was always pushing him to do more and… sooner rather than later it would have started to mess with his head, make him think there was something wrong with him when there’s not.”

Rage burned low in Bucky’s chest, a whole new facet of hatred for Rumslow. What kind of man treated his wife and kid that way? King was an incredible little boy, smart and articulate, kind and funny. Bucky knew he’d be proud to call King his own.

“I feel so guilty.” Levi whispered, the tears returning. She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t regret having King at all, and I will always be grateful to Brock for giving me him, but…. What was I thinking? Bringing a child into that type of environment?” She shuddered. “Right up until King was born I hoped my pregnancy would trigger something in him, some switch would flip and he’d stop being such a frat boy, start paying attention to me and my wants, and the baby he’d helped make. But he didn’t, he wouldn’t.” Her voice broke and Bucky stopped thinking about what was right and proper in this situation.

Setting down his beer he scooted towards her, drawing Levi into his arms. She clung to him with surprising desperation, burying her face in his throat and, if the timing weren’t so gloomy, he probably would have groaned at the sensation, at the shiver of delight that shot up his spine.

“Hey,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair and closing his eyes, indulging in a heartbeat’s length of adoring the feel of her so close to him. “Hey, stop thinking that. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a bad mom; all that shit, that’s on him; it’s not your fault. He sounds like a total asshole, who wouldn’t love King? He’s such a special little man. Shit, I would’ve-” he broke off, suddenly dangerously close to unsteady ground, that minefield he’d worried about stepping through.

Lev went still in his arms and he could feel her desire to ask him to elaborate, to explain what he’d been about to say.

Shit, I would’ve treated you and King like the treasures you are, I never would have taken you for granted that way.

Levi raised her head; eyes glittering with tears and searched his face. Bucky gazed back down at her, dangerously close to letting everything he was fighting so hard not to feel flood his eyes. Her eyes dropped to his lips for a heartbeat, then back up to his eyes and time stood still.

Fighting himself every inch of the way, Bucky slowly lowered his head, searching Lev’s gaze for permission, some hint that she either wanted this or suddenly was coming to her senses and wanted to stop; but she never wavered and, as their lips touched in a sweet and tentative way, her lids fluttered shut in relief and Bucky let his own fall closed, warmth flooding his body.

Desire raged hot and hard in Bucky, demanding more but he kept the kiss light and gentle, a shy exploration of each other’s mouths, the taste of stout still on their tongues as he slicked his along her bottom lip then plunged gently inside as she parted her mouth for him, a sweet moan rising in her throat.

Pulling back, easily one of the most difficult things Bucky had ever done, he rested his forehead to hers, fighting to calm his breathing, to control his body from all but attacking her.

Lev panted with him, fingers curling against his shirt then one tentative hand reached up to cup his face, rasping against the stubble and he leaned into her touch, letting out a low groan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, each word burning like acid. “I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay.” She breathed back.

“I… we need to-” He couldn’t force the words and so he acted instead, pushing gently away from Levi and returning to his end of the bench. He shivered at the loss of her body, her heat, against him and Lev watched him for a moment, multiple emotions warring in her eyes.

Part of Bucky hoped she stayed over there, while a bigger part wanted her to close the distance again.

Finally, she relaxed her shoulders and managed a shy smile, then unfolded the blanket to its full size and offered him one side. Bucky accepted, draping the cover over his shoulders, allowing himself this substitution. They shouldn’t be crawling all over each other, kissing, but they could share this blanket, that was bashfully intimate as well and far more the speed they should be going if they did plan on seeing where this went.

Levi settled back against the bench, turning to face forwards. There was space between them now, so much that it would difficult to lean over and nudge the other with their shoulder, but close enough that, if one dared, they could hold hands under the blanket.

For a time they were silent, gazing at the emerging stars, or the muted red glow of the patio heater, listening to the sporadic sounds of life around them, the occasional vehicle, owl hoot or dog bark but then Lev exhaled slowly and spoke, her voice hesitant.

“We were interrupted at dinner, but I asked if you ever wanted children. I don’t want to pry, but-”

“No, its fine.” Lev had bared enough of her wounds tonight, it was time for him to disclose a scar or two. “I did… I do. But Maria wasn’t interested… ever. It wasn’t a big deal when we got together but… as time passed, seeing friends have babies and stuff, I started to think about it more and more. I…” He trailed off, studying his hands knotted together, fingers twisting. “I kept putting it off, really talking about it with her though. It was obvious what she felt, she’d never babysat as a teenager, she never offered to hold any of our friend’s babies, even if I was always asking, just to feel that little bundle, that tiny weight in my arms; I’d test the waters, and hint and stuff, but she would always laugh and be like ‘no way’ and I just… let it go until there was no more time.”

“She never would have?”

Bucky considered a moment. “No, I don’t think so. One of the things I always loved about Maria was her conviction, even if it was against me. No meant no to her, every time.”

Levi gazed at Bucky silently, but he kept his gaze down. He wasn’t ready to show her, she wasn’t ready to see, the emotions crashing through his eyes right now. Finally, he found the strength to say what had been nibbling at the corners of his mind for some time now, a hard truth that had come with hindsight and miserable evaluation during long, sleepless nights, something he’d never even voiced out loud before, not ever really examined up close, just knew deep down, no matter how hard it was to acknowledge verbally.

“I think…. It would have been the issue that pushed us apart eventually… if she hadn’t died.”

He heard her breath catch but was too scared to look over and squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Lev didn’t show kindness right now, some form of acceptance for his stark confession, maybe reach over to touch him, or whisper sweet words, because he was too raw, too open right now for it to do anything but agonize.

“I’m sorry.” She finally murmured, barely audible but he heard her in the silence, felt the pain all the same.

Me too.

#au bucky #au bucky barnes #au bucky barnes fanfic #au bucky barnes fanfiction #au father bucky #au bucky drama #au bucky romance #bucky and levi #bucky and lev #bucky dad #bucky family

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fabrowrites · 5 years

Text

Oh, haven’t you heard?

It's the second week back to school, and Lloyd is finally settling back into the swing of things. Wake up, check. Brush your teeth, check. Eat breakfast, leave the house, get off the bus, and walk to the first class. Check, check, check, and check.

Lloyd pushes open the school's front doors and steps inside. He gets a couple of good morning nods on his way to homeroom, but nothing more than a hello. That's fine. Lloyd's never been the most popular person, and the friends he had in elementary have all but drifted away with his schedule monopolized by his ninja duties.

"Hey, Lloyd. Lloyd!"

Well, scratch that. "Hey, Nya," Lloyd says. "How's it hanging?" He goes over to her corner. Jay and Kai are already there, the red ninja napping at his own seat and the blue ninja looking over her shoulder. Lloyd slides into the seat next to her. Both of them look up at him with identical grins. Lloyd is immediately on edge.

"Oh, you know, the use," Nya says. It should be impossible, but her grin gets even wider. "Speaking of which, have you checked YouTube recently?"

"Speaking of what?" Lloyd asks, before a phone is shoved in his face. He blinks. The video is frozen on a screen with the word 'UNSOLVED' stamped across it in bright red letters. Nya clicks play.

This week we will be investigating the alleged existence of a child of Lord Garmadon.

A strangled noise escapes Lloyd's throat. "What? What- Nya!" He slaps her phone down against the table, ignoring her outraged yelp. His face is dangerously red as he glances around the classroom. "What is this?"

Nya is too busy laughing at his redness to answer. Jay answers for her. "It's really cool, dude!" he says, fiddling with the edge of his scarf like he's scared of Lloyd's reaction. "There are these two guys, and they do theory videos on the internet."

"This is a pretty recent one," says one of the men on screen. "Like, could-be-happening-right-now recent levels."

"I've gotta be honest with you," says the other. "I was a little bit skeptical about this one at first, but the evidence really does line up."

"For Garmadon having a secret love child?"

Lloyd wants to melt into the floor. He covers his eyes with his hands instead and sits back as far as he can. "Nope. Nope! I do not need to be listening to this."

"Just you wait. I'll have you convinced by the end."

"Oh, shush," Nya says. "Stop being a baby." She pries his hands away from his face. Caged in by the desk on one side and Jay and Nya (and Kai) on the other, Lloyd resigns himself to his fate.

"Oh no, it's not that. I want this one to be true."

Let's get started, then. The year is 20XX. One year after Garmadon launched his first attack against the city. On September 30, between 9:15 and 9:45 PM, a dark figure enters an apartment building in Downtown Ninjago. He takes the elevator to the second floor and goes down the hallway to apartment 202, where he's ushered in by Mrs. Lee, the tenant. Witnesses describe this man as tall, around 6 foot 2 in height, with black hair and wearing a large coat. What's more interesting is what he was carrying.

"Mrs. Lee," says the second man, the one on the left. "Who is she?"

"It's the name she went by," says the first. "Judging by the way she disappears later without a trace, it isn't her real one. The police weren't able to track her down."

"Damn. I thought I was onto something there."

The voiceover continues. "One neighbor, Mrs. Nessa Everton, describes this shadowy-looking man entering the apartment across from her with, quote: "a bag from the local baby store tucked under one arm". End quote."

Okay, but how do we know that was actually Garmadon. Maybe it was... just some other tall, crispy man.

(Wheeze) Some other crispy man?

Well, I don't know, dude!

What other crispy men do you know?

I'm sure there's someone out there.

"Hey. What are you guys watching?" Kai appears over Lloyd's shoulder, hair even more impossibly messed up from his nap. His eyes light up. "Wait, is this that theory video?"

Nya nods, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Yeah, it is, now hush."

Kai makes a noise of elation. Lloyd is one second away from slamming his head into his desk. "You guys are the worst friends."

The first man laughs. "Moving on," he says. "Six years later, in April 20XX, Garmadon once again entered the city. He heads immediately to a park on the Eastside. Police trailed him there, only to find him shouting obscenities at the children who were playing soccer in the field. Garmadon escaped capture once again, but we can fill in the details from the witnesses there.

"Oh my gosh," Lloyd says. "I remember this one."

The coach of the game said, quote: He was an absolute lunatic. The whole time he was screaming terrible, horrible things at the kids playing the game. I wanted to call the police, but they showed up before I could." End quote.

A mother of one of the children there, Valerie E. Richards, had a different take on the incident. She said that Garmadon wasn't harassing the children at random, but only specific ones from one team. Quote: "If I didn't know better, I would have pegged him as one of those crazy soccer parents."

No, but can you imagine being seven years old.

(Wheeze)

And you're just doing your thing, whatever, and this big four-armed man starts screaming at you?

Your mom is just like, "cover your ears, Timmy, ignore that evil man."

"But Mom! I think that's Lord Garmadon!"

The first man holds his pencil in the air. "That would be pretty weird when you think about it."

"Did Garmadon ever say why he was there?"

His partner snorts. "What, at like his supervillain press conference?"

"...right."

"Let's put together what we know. Garmadon's first visit was for a baby, judging by the bag he carried with him. That places the child between a newborn and three years old, making him anywhere between fourteen to seventeen now. The gender of the baby is unknown, as are it's genetics and appearance."

With all this in mind, let's look at the theories. Theory number one: Harumi Niseko is the secret child of Lord Garmadon.

"Harumi?" says Jay. "Like the Mayor's daughter?"

"I think so. Didn't she dress up as him for Halloween last year?"

Harumi was one of the children confirmed to be at the soccer game, and was also one of the few children that Garmadon didn't shout at. In fact, witnesses claim the Lord of Darkness even went so far as to call her "my girl" and laughed when she kicked another kid in the shins. Harumi herself has not denied these claims. When interviewed in 20XX, she said, quote: "I think Lord Garmadon would make a pretty cool dad." End quote.

"Just because she said he'd be a cool dad doesn't make him her dad."

"I know. Evidence against this theory is the fact that, while adopted, both of Harumi's birth parents are listed on her birth certificate."

Which brings us to theory number two: that Lord Garmadon's secret son is actually dead but was recreated as a robot.

All eyes lock immediately onto Zane, who's just stepped into the room. The poor ice ninja looks flummoxed at the sudden attention: Lloyd's face burning, the others sharing giant smiles. "Is there something I missed?"

This theory speculates that Garmadon's child- a boy, in this one- died somehow as a child and was replaced by an android version of himself. While it's true that humanoid android citizens exist now, this wasn't always the case. The first human-android models were created just under twenty years ago, lining up with the timeline for this theory.

"They think I'm a robot," Lloyd says dumbly. "They think that somehow Garmadon replaced me as a child and no one, not even my mom, noticed?" His voice rises to a shrill peak at the end and cracks. This only makes Nya laugh harder. "Shut up!" he grumbles, mortified. "I'm leaving."

"No, wait- wait!" Nya says, gasping for air. "You have to see the next one."

Begrudgingly, Lloyd remains in his seat. It's not like he has a choice anyway, with the way Kai immediately drops his head to rest his chin on Lloyd's shoulder with too much pressure to be relaxing.

"Theory number three," says the host. "The secret child of Lord Garmadon is actually the Green Ninja."

At this point, both of the hosts break into laughter. Lloyd's stupid dumb idiot friends aren't much better, but at least they have the decency to hide their snickers behind their hands.

No, scratch that. Kai is currently crying with laughter, his literal tears soaking the shoulder of Lloyd's hoodie. Lloyd shoved him off and he tumbles to the floor.

"What, in like some kind of misguided revenge quest?" asks the second man.

"Exactly! Why is it the Green Ninja who always goes after Garmadon, even when there's a better-fitted ninja for the occasion? I'm telling you, it's personal."

"Oh no," Nya sing-songs. "They're onto you!"

The second man shakes his head. "No. No. You said this kid would have to be in between fourteen to seventeen. That would mean our city is being protected by middle schoolers!"

"Yeah, that is a little scary to think about." The first man sighs. "Oh well. I liked that one the best, personally."

"None of them sounded convincing to me, but I still think this one's true."

"You mean, that Garmadon has a kid?"

"Yeah. No one goes to those soccer games unless they have a kid to force them there."

The other man laughs. "In any case, the identity of Lord Garmadon's secret child, and whether or not such a child even exists to begin with, will for now remain unsolved."

The video ends. Finally. Blessed, blessed, silence. Lloyd slides down in his chair so his face is hidden in his hoodie and his back is more against the seat than the backing. His stupid friends are still laughing at him.

"So, Lloyd," says Kai, with the self-preservation of a particularly dumb dog. "What do you think?"

He gets only a groan and a rude gesture in response. Kai laughs and ruffles his hair. "That's our Lloyd."

"Just wait until he sees the one about Garmadon's four arms," Cole says cheerily.

#ninjago #ninjago fic #my fic #happy birthday lloyd

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miraculouslysam · 5 years

Text

The Woes of a Teen Underwear Model

Hi all! Today’s prompt for @adrinetteapril was “Just Friends,” and I couldn’t resist. Have some post-reveal, pre-relationship antics.

“You know, ya probably would have more success with the dudette if you actually went and talked to her instead of just staring like a creep, bro.”

Adrien couldn’t figure out how he had gotten here. It wasn’t too long before that their roles had been reversed, with Nino freaking out about being a “moronosaurus rex” while Adrien had just laughed along and teased him for overthinking it all. And yet, there he was, hiding in the corner and watching Marinette- not just Marinette, but Ladybug- laughing with Alya as they flipped through a magazine.

And it wasn’t just any old magazine. Oh no, Adrien couldn’t be that lucky. No, it just had to be Gabriel’s special swimsuits and undergarments edition. The edition in which Adrien had been the cover model.

It was taking every bit of his self-control not to run over and rip the magazine to shreds. Or to go to the nearest newspaper stand and set fire to it. Either option would be satisfactory.

The knowledge that Marinette was Ladybug still astounded him. When they had revealed themselves a few weeks before, he instantly found himself in shock. Mostly at his own stupidity. He still couldn’t grasp how he was so blind; her looks and tendency to help others stayed the same with and without the mask! Marinette, on the other hand, was cool as a cucumber. She’d taken one glance at him and said, “I should’ve seen this coming.”

They had spent more time together since then, growing closer with each passing day. All the guys teased him in the locker rooms, asking when he was finally going to get the balls to ask her out. He always smiled. “We’re just friends.” It hurt, but he knew where she stood on the matter and was not going to step over the line. He’d already learned that lesson.

But even if they were “just friends,” Adrien absolutely did not want the woman he was in love with laughing at pictures of him one-garment-short of naked. Years of modelling had taught him to be secure with himself… but not that secure.

He was pulled from his musings by a hand waving in front of his face. “Yo, earth to Loverboy. What’s your deal, bro? Just ask her out already so we can all be past this drooling. Alya’s really been pushing for us all to double-date,” Nino said. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “And believe me, a happier Alya is better for everyone. Especially me.”

Adrien quickly composed himself, then quirked an eyebrow to complete the confident façade. “Oh, is that so? Well, I hate to break it to you, Nino, but Marinette and I are just friends. Maybe you could talk to Rose and Juleka.”

Nino began to speak, but the bell rang, cutting him off. The duo began walking toward their classroom. “I’m just sayin’, dude, Marinette is a catch. I’ve been hearing some stuff about some people wanting to ask her out if you’re not making a move.”

Oh man, did Adrien know. He distinctly remembered pummeling Kagami while they sparred the previous week, when she’d said something to the effect of “if you don’t make a move, I will.” The satisfied smirk she gave him, like the cat that got the cream, had plagued his mind ever since. It didn’t help that she kept texting him taunts at least three times a day either.

“Seriously, I probably still would be chasing her if Ladybug hadn’t thrown me and Alya in that cage that day at the zoo. The girl is smart, nice, and fine. She’s the whole package.” Nino paused, considering. “Oh, but don’t tell Alya I said that. My girl is the best and only one for me.”

The pair fist-bumped, then walked through the door of Ms. Bustier’s class. Alya and Marinette already had taken their seats. The girls looked up for a moment, greeting the boys, then returned to their discussion. He heard laughter from behind him and tensed up. Should he eavesdrop? He knew it was wrong, but they were looking at-

“Hey, Adrien,” Alya’s voice drawled. He heard Marinette groan, then turned to see her thunking her head into her desk. Alya held up the offending magazine and Adrien felt himself cringe. “Marinette has a question for you.”

Marinette groaned again. “Please don’t, Alya. It’s just going to be embarrassing for everyone.”

Adrien swore he saw Alya’s eyes flash, not unlike Kyoya’s in Ouran. And, well, Kyoya had nothing on Alya in terms of being terrifying. “Really? Embarrassing for everyone, you say? I don’t think I’ll be embarrassed, so I’ll just say it for you.” She leaned forward, elbow on the table as she rested her chin on her fist. “Marinette wants to know what the hell was going through your mind when you posed for this photo.”

He glanced at the two-page spread, what the photographer called the star of the photoset. He thought he looked pretty good in it, but judging by that smirk on Alya’s face... He smiled weakly. “I was told to do a smolder. They wanted me to look sexy.”

The smirk grew wider and Alya’s eyes glinted again. Adrien swallowed thickly. “Is that so? Did you find it sexy, Marinette?”

Alya’s head whipped toward her best friend, who appeared to be practicing a new shrinking act. Marinette’s eyes darted around at every other member of their quartet. “Well, no, that isn’t exactly what I said.”

“And what exactly did you say?”

Marinette clearly knew there was no getting out of it. She sighed and sat up straight, shoulders back. She met Adrien’s questioning glance. “Sorry, Adrien, but… you look like you’re trying to pass something. Like bad gas.”

Alya and Nino dissolved into laughter instantly. Adrien’s jaw dropped, face morphing into disbelief. “I’m- you- huh?” Did she really think that? It was like glass shattered in his mind. Though he hadn’t told anyone, he secretly had been envisioning something like an anime scene:

Dramatic music plays in the background. Marinette, clad in a white, flowing dress with her hair free, runs while looking around frantically, magazine in hand. She finally sees him. “Oh, Adrien! I can’t resist any longer. You’re the man of my dreams. You’re handsome and strong and incredible!” She flings herself into his arms. “Please, kiss me!” They passionately embrace while rose petals fall around them and-

His friends’ uproarious laughter snapped him from his reverie. Right. That wouldn’t happen now, apparently.

Marinette looked apologetic for a moment, but then sat up even straighter, emboldened like she suddenly was her spotted alter-ego. Adrien supposed she was picturing cat ears flat against his head. He could practically feel them himself.

“And now you look like you’ve passed it.”

The challenge in her eyes taunted him, the smirk dancing on her lips a silent invitation. The message was clear. Step up or just take it.

Well that simply wouldn’t do.

A cheshire grin overtook his face. Marinette’s eyes grew wide for a split-second before she settled into her game face. “I don’t know that you’re one to talk, Princess. Didn’t you have me go buy constipation tablets for you in London?” He began mocking her voice. “’Oh, Adrien, please do this for me. You’re the only one who can!’”

If looks could kill, Adrien surely would have been pronounced dead on the scene.

He knew it had been a mistake. It was the first thing she cleared up after they revealed themselves, but Alya and Nino didn’t know that. It was a low blow, but fair was fair.

But once again, he had failed to account for Alya’s quick wit. The wicked smile on her face made him gulp and regret saying anything. “Wow, it sounds like you two really are made for each other.”

Was his face on fire? It felt like it. Could a human face physically catch flame? Maybe he could ask Ms. Mendeliev for resources to be studied.

He vaguely heard Marinette sputtering, but class began before he could hear what she had to say.

~~~~~

Class took an eternity to end. Nino had teased him via note through the entire thing, but Adrien was too removed to care. His leg couldn’t seem to stop jiggling the whole time, and his notebook showed that he had learned absolutely nothing.

Unless discovering that Adrien Dupain-Cheng looked better than Marinette Agreste counted. Because the whole page was full of it, written in various fonts and surrounded by hearts.

Oh well. The girl of his dreams had just been laughing at the centerfold photo of him wearing Gabriel briefs. He had no shame left.

He waited until Marinette and Alya got up to leave, then quietly followed them so he could hear what they were saying.

“Alya, you really didn’t have to say that. Adrien didn’t need to know.”

“Oh, come on, girl. You know I didn’t want to hurt him. We were going to find out his feelings either way. Either you were going to acknowledge that you think he’s drop-dead gorgeous, or we were going to see him get pouty because you didn’t think so. You chose not to own up, so we saw Model Boy get upset.”

Adrien felt himself blushing again.

“Alya, he knows he’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’s a model. He probably just got upset because his job is to match the expressions they tell him to.”

Alya laughed. “Girl, if you think he’s just upset over that, you’re more blind than he is. He’s more whipped than topping on an ice cream sundae.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“If you’re so sure, then why don’t you ask him? Call him up, ask him out on a date. Not just video games. A real date,” Alya countered.

Marinette scoffed. “Come on, Alya. I can’t do that, no matter how much I want to. He only sees me as a friend.”

Adrien tripped, falling headfirst into a trashcan.

“She likes me back?!”

#adrinette #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #Adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fic #fic by sam #adrinette april 2019 #day 1: just friends

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captainmeowvelwrites · 4 years

Text

You Times Two (Ch.8)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 3043 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Clumsy Girl fell hard for the sidewalk, sent macarons flying, and was starkly reminded of her feelings for Sonata the Hedgehog. Meanwhile, Jealadrien made his saucy debut, but blamed his funky stomach feels on his breakfast, and as he, Salami and Marimoo arrived at Alya’s front door, he unwittingly saddened our fav gal by mentioning his imminent date. Will envy run amuck during their gaming afternoon? And will Buginette get her feelings back on track? Read forth, my furiends, and find out!

---

Chapter Eight

Marinette stared down the scuffed floor of the stair landing, if only to hide the sting in her eyes and what it truly meant. She blinked – once, twice, thrice – and clung to the carton of macarons, so hard the cardboard let out a faint crack beneath her fingertips. She was waiting outside Alya’s apartment: the third wheel to a bicycle, soon to be the fifth to a quad bike. Not that she was mad. Well, not at Adrien.

She’d suggested a candlelit dinner. She’d told him to ask Kagami out properly. She’d planted the seeds in his mind. And God, if the night of Glaciator was anything to go by, she’d bet her earrings he’d planned the most swoon-worthy of dinners. Had he decided Kagami made him happier than Ladybug? Did he plan to make their relationship official? To make her his girlfriend?

Adrien’s polished shoes shifted from the corner of her eye. “Marinette?” The concern that coated his voice had her lifting her head. “Are—”

The apartment door squeaked open, and the familiar herbal scent of Marlena’s houseplants flooded the stairwell.

“Why hello, boy and girls!” Alya’s eyes zipped across the three of them. “Weiiird. It feels like we talked just seconds ago!”

Adrien’s eyes snapped ahead, model smile at the ready. “Hey, Al,” he said, readjusting the pizza boxes. “You took the words right out of my mouth!”

Kagami offered a little half-bow. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

“S’all good, Kagami!” Alya's attention turned to Marinette, and her grin wavered.

"Uh - Hi, Al!" Marinette pasted on a smile. "I'm here on time for once!" Had her hands been free, she’d have whipped out some jazz hands for extra oomph.

Alya shook her head. “Dang, girl! You sick or something?” She stepped aside with a lively, “Come on in, squad. Shoes can stay on.” She eyeballed Adrien. “Being exposed to your shoeless feet once was enough for me.”

His ears reddened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The image of Plagg’s gooey Camembert squelching around in his shoes hit Marinette and suddenly, her smile came more freely. They had another joint patrol tonight. She’d have to ask him where he stowed it all.

They’d just crowded in the entry hallway when Nino bounded on up, his sneakers pounding on the parquet floor. “Hey, ma dude!” He threw an arm around Adrien, nearly bowling him over. “Thanks for keeping the pizzas away from Marinette.”

“Marinette was bluffing,” Kagami interjected, her lips splitting into an awkward grin. The corner of Marinette’s own mouth rose in recognition. “She led us up the stairs right after making her threat. She never intended to eat the pizzas without you.”

Two seconds ticked by as Nino and Alya bore witness to Kagami’s pearly whites. “Err,” Nino drawled, first to shatter the silence. “Riiight.” He pulled his trademark finger guns.

“Yo, Kagami!” Alya planted a hand on her hip. “Ready for the grand tour? Adrien, you might as well tag along.”

Marinette didn’t miss the scheming glint in Alya’s eyes as they swept from Kagami to Adrien, then her to Nino. “In the meantime, babe, can you give M a hand with fixing things up?”

Nino readjusted his cap. “You got it, Al.” He reached for the pizza boxes in Adrien’s arms. “I’ll take those off your hands, bro.”

The instant he did, Kagami took Adrien’s hand in hers.

“Alrighty, ladies and gents!” Alya nodded toward a lone door on her left. “Right there is the bathroom, where yours truly fabulizes herself every morning.” After a sassy flick of her fiery hair, she gestured to the pale wall on their right, which stretched to the far end of the apartment, its surface busied by tribal masks and animal paintings. “All those doors lead to the bedrooms, which brings me to the most important part of our tour.” The volume of her voice faded as she led the hand-in-hand couple past the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge – all open-plan – and through the furthest door. “Here is your royal highness’ room!” She shut the door behind them.

“So,” Nino drawled.

Only then did Marinette realise she’d watched Adrien every step of the way.

Or rather, his hand.

In Kagami’s.

She ripped her eyes from Alya’s bedroom door and threw Nino her most inconspicuous smile, hoping it was enough.

“Do you – uh – like triple cheese?” He jerked the pizza boxes a little higher in his arms. “Could I interest you in a slice? Or two. Maybe three. As many as you need.”

“Triple cheese sounds great.”

With a nod, Nino led her down the short corridor, around the corner and into the kitchen. Red overran her vision, a result of the dated cabinets that lined the wall to their left. He laid the three pizza boxes across the island bench, her carton of macarons soon joining them.

Flipping back the lids, the aroma of melted mozzarella and spicy pepperoni warmed the air. In a matter of moments, napkins layered the polished bench before them, and pizza sagged between their fingers. One bite of pizza and her troubles seemed just a little smaller. Two and they were melting like mozzarella in one of those nifty clay ovens.

A self-assured voice travelled through Alya’s door.

“—our first date – couple—”

Was Kagami talking about tonight?

“—no doubt – perfect—”

Marinette squinted, like that’d help her hear bett—

Splat.

A glob of mozzarella slid off her steaming slice and onto the bench.

“Hey…” Nino’s voice was oddly gentle, much like his eyes when she met them. “I’m sorry about my dude. He’s pretty clueless sometimes.”

“What? No, I just—” Her sight sunk to the bench, zeroing in on the glob of mozzarella. She plucked it up, dumped it on her napkin, and sighed. “Sorry. I’m trying to get over him.”

Nino offered her a smile of solidarity. “It’ll be okay, M.” He propped his arms upon the bench, eyes sinking to his pizza. “I figured he’d tell me if they were official, you know?”

“Um – They’re not official?”

“They’re not?”

Wait.

Did Nino not even know?

“Well, uhh…” She toyed with the edge of her napkin. “Adrien told me he didn’t think they were official yet, despite what people have been saying. But they are going out on a date tonight, so...” Any words thereafter only clung to her tongue, refusing to be given voice.

“Really?” His brows squished together. “When’d he say that? How’d this even come up?”

“Well, I left my backpack at school yesterday, so he dropped it off. I took the chance to congratulate him and – uh – that’s when he asked for my advice.”

“Man,” he murmured, cupping his chin, “maybe I should talk to him. See where his head’s at.”

Marinette tensed. “Ju-Just – If you do, please don’t tell him I said anything. I – I thought you knew. And besides”—the volume of her voice dropped in time with her eyes—“Kagami’s right. I hesitated. I had my chance – heck, I’ve had hundreds of chances – but at the end of the day, I just can’t seem to bring myself to tell him how I feel.”

Nino shifted closer on his barstool and set a hand on her shoulder. “Well, Marinette, sometimes the slowest turtles are the ones that win the race.”

Images of a green-clad superhero played in her mind’s eye. She couldn’t help but giggle. He’d made a great Carapace. Goodness, even now, without the Turtle Miraculous, he was still looking out for Ladybug.

And now that she thought about it, maybe there was a truth to Nino’s words that even he was unaware of. The bond between Ladybug and Chat Noir was second to none, built from a year of blind trust and friendship. If Chat Blanc was anything to go by, a sudden confession from her could end the world. Perhaps things were better this way.

Bunnyx sure seemed to think so. She knew Marinette was Ladybug. It wasn’t a stretch to assume she knew Chat Noir’s identity too. Even Hawk Moth’s. When Timetagger terrorised Paris, Bunnyx had hopped in and suggested through flailing hand motions that love between her and Chat Noir would be messy. Was that because of timing? Or were they just not meant to be?

“Well,” Nino tore her from her thoughts, “the slowest turtle usually wins the race… but not in Mario Kart!” He grinned, prodding a thumb over his shoulder, toward the living room. “Ready to eat my dust?”

There was a glint in her eye. “May the fastest turtle win.”

---

Their pizzas downed, Marinette and Nino made their way onto the immense L-shaped sofa. Thumbs soon flicked joysticks. Fingers scurried across tiny buttons. An upbeat soundtrack bounced through the TV speakers. On a particularly tight corner, Marinette’s character drifted by Nino’s in a flash of yellow and pink.

He growled, gripping the controller tighter. “How are you so good at gaming?!”

She threw her nose in the air, a twinkle in her eye. “Practice.”

Seconds later, a turtle shell crashed into her character, lurching Princess Peach into the air. She didn’t lose first place, but that didn’t stop her from pouting. “How do you keep hitting me?! You can’t even aim the green ones!”

Grinning, he pinched the brim of his cap. “Practice.”

To the left of the TV, Alya’s bedroom door eased open, and the queen herself peeked through the crack. Seeming satisfied by the sight of them gaming up a storm, she swung her door the rest of the way and sashayed into the living room, Adrien and Kagami in tow. The latter stopped to study the screen. “Who’s winning?”

Adrien didn’t miss a beat. “Marinette, of course.” He ducked past the TV, careful of obstructing their view.

Her breath accelerated in time with the music tempo as she commenced her final lap. It had absolutely nothing to do with Adrien claiming the empty spot to her right, the sofa sagging a smidge beneath his weight. Kagami was close behind, and despite the minimal leg room, she squeezed into the actual corner of the L-shaped sofa, right beside him.

“Dude,” Nino was screeching, “you have so little faith in me!”

“Sorry, Nino.” Adrien let out a little laugh. “I’m sure you’ll beat her one of these days.”

“You are so not helping.”

Alya plopped down beside Nino and planted a peck on his cheek. “At least you’re not far behind, babe.”

“No, but I will be if you keep doing that.”

Not even a minute later, Marinette sprung to her feet with her fists in the air. “YES! I win! Marinette style! Booyah!” With a second fist pump, she almost lost the controller to the ceiling—but she didn’t, ‘cause she was a winner. And of course, that warranted a fervid victory dance, so she did just that; her hands swept from left to right and back again as she chanted, “Uh huhhh! Oh yeahhh! I’m the best! Uh huh!”

Her theatrics were only urged on by the laughter that layered the air (around eighty five percent of which might’ve just come from a certain kitty cat).

Nino thumped a hand on the round coffee table ahead. “I demand a rematch,” he squawked, “on two hundred CC!”

Marinette spared her nails a cheeky glance. “Ha! You’re on, chump.” In the wake of her victory, she was well on her way to feeling normal again. “Let Master Dupain-Cheng show you how it’s done!”

True to her word, she pulverized him.

---

For the next half hour, chit-chat and banter filled the airy apartment, as the quintet savoured their fill of pizza. Four slices remained, tucked away in a cardboard box on the coffee table for Luka.

A four-player game of Mario Kart had ensued.

Marinette was winning.

Adrien was hot on her trail.

Alya and Nino were half a lap behind, after two run-ins with a certain yellow fruit.

And Kagami was keeping a curious eye on the TV, no doubt making mental notes for her first attempt next round.

“Ready, guys?” Adrien jumped to his feet. “Here it comes.” His character, a burly ape on a hefty quad-bike, was fast approaching a ramp. “Donkey Kong dab in three, two, one!” He dabbed in time with his character, complete with a dramatic grunt.

Marinette’s eyes remained on the screen, but that didn’t stop a smile from puffing her cheeks.

Nino, adamant that “whole body steering” was a legit strategy, unknowingly tilted into her personal space. “Bro,” he exclaimed, “was the grunt really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” Adrien quipped. “It elevates the dab to a whole new level—”

“Babe,” Nino cut in, now leaning right into Alya’s space. “What’re you doing? Get outta my way. Get outta my way. Get outta my—”

“Nu uh, Nini! Get your stupid dinosaur outta my—”

“Dude!” He thumped his feet on the floor like Gigantitan 2.0, and Marinette’s eyes flicked to his section of the screen just in time to catch the tail-end of his kart spinning. “Another freaking banana?!”

“Ha!” Adrien voiced, triumphant. “Yes. Peel the pain of my slippery secret weapon!”

Alya snorted. “The pain of your puns isn’t bad enough?”

“Just call me Banadrien.”

“Bro? You can’t think up something better than that?”

Marinette’s smile turned wry. “Don’t you mean something more apeeling?”

Adrien gave a hearty laugh. “See? M gets it.”

She narrowly escaped an explosive, green turtle shell. Since when did Adrien use that nickna—

Gasping, she clutched the controller closer.

A certain pesky primate had crept into the corner of her screen.

“No no no no no!”

“Yes yes yes yes yes!”

She shoved her thumb against the accelerator button, so hard a tiny circle was surely forming on her skin. “Adrien, get your creepy ape away from me!”

“That was the perfect opportunity for a Planet of the Apes reference. I am so disappointed in you!”

Adrien’s conniving cackles enlivened the room, but now was not the time to admire the unbridled joy in his voice, nor the throatiness of his chuckles. Her face scrunched as she wrestled with her thoughts. For goodness’ sake, Kagami was sitting right next to him!

Holding her breath, Marinette dared a peek at the silent girl. Kagami’s hand cupped her chin, her eyes set on the screen. She eased her head onto Adrien’s shoulder—

Princess Peach zoomed straight over a poorly concealed banana peel, the wheels of her kart skimming the track with a dizzying spin.

His pesky monkey shot straight past and—

“NO!”

“YES!”

Kagami placed a hand on Adrien’s knee, which had bobbed wildly for most of the race. “Well done, Adrien,” she praised, patting his knee twice.

“It’s not over yet,” Marinette declared.

The music amped up, Adrien now in the lead and commencing his third and final lap. Marinette was close behind.

Alya unleashed a throaty groan. “Adrien, you and your bananas are driving me cray!”

“Dude! How many do you have?!”

Adrien sniggered. “I’m gonna hazard a guess and say a bunch.”

“But how?!” Nino screeched.

“I guess you could say they were ripe for the picking.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Gosh, Banadrien! Stop distracting me with your lame puns!” From her peripheral vision, she caught his grin inch wider. He leaned well within her bubble and her Chadrien Alarm™ blared like an air horn.

“Now you’re just hurting my peelings.”

Her heart thundered in her ears. She didn’t trust herself to speak. No, instead she elbowed his gut, which only encouraged another laugh. Suddenly, she was laughing too.

That is, until she glimpsed Kagami’s thumb shift a smidge atop the black denim of his jeans. Her hand hadn’t left his knee.

“M, you’re falling behind!” Alya cried, snapping her to attention. “Quick! Cut corners!”

“Find shortcuts!” Nino added.

“Run him off the track!” said Alya. “You don’t want him banana punning for the rest of the day, do you?”

Marinette giggled. “Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?”

“Girl, we’re a lap behind.”

“Yeah, we’re just cruisin’ at this point. You’ve still got a chance!”

Marinette honed in on the TV. His quad bike was up ahead. Only half a lap remained. Things weren’t looking good, but that’s never stopped her before.

Her tongue peeked through her lips.

“Oh! Oh!” Alya made an exaggerated gasp. “She’s got her game face on, boys and girls!”

“She’s catching up!” Nino cheered.

They were right. So maybe if she really dug in and focussed—

“Say yellow to my triple bananas!”

Three slippery suckers clustered behind Adrien’s motoring monkey. He released the first.

She dodged it.

He let loose his second.

Another dodge.

The third.

Yet another dodge-a-roonie.

“You really aren’t living up to your nickname, Banadrien.” With a satisfying jingle, her character rocketed through a mystery box—but suddenly, she was whirling at the hands of a despicably well-placed banana. “WHAT!?” Her eyes bulged.

“You were saying?” He sent her his signature wink.

She sputtered—for words or air, she couldn’t be sure. That sly cat! Had he planted that sucker on their previous lap?

Donkey Kong whooshed over the finish line.

Nino and Alya’s jaws dropped in unison, their gasps rocking the room.

“Yea-hea-heah!” Adrien launched to his feet, Kagami’s hand falling from his knee, though the smile on her lips was as apparent as his excitement. He whipped out a fervent victory dab—once more in sync with his character. “Beat you by a banana split second. Adrien style!” With dramatic flair, he threw Marinette some dual finger guns. “Booyah!”

She burst into a fit of laughter. Gosh, if this was the price to pay for losing to her partner, she honestly couldn’t complain. “Next—“ She wheezed. “Next round I will reign victorious!”

His shoulders shook with his every snicker. “Seems our Gamer Princess is salty she got dethroned!” He flashed a smirk and suddenly, all she saw was her cheeky kitty. All she felt was a fierce thumping in her chest. And all she could do was beam up at that face and those eyes and the pure joy that sang within them.

Why yes, she’d been dethroned.

And if he acted like this every time, she’d lose again in a banana split second.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #you times two #adrinette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien

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gryffindorcls · 5 years

Text

Chat for a Day: Chapter 3

I’m In Love With You

Marinette walked out of the bathroom stall and looked into the mirror. She took the ponytail holders out of her pigtails and shook out her hair. This resulted in wavy tresses that elegantly framed her face. She smiled at her handiwork.

“What are you planning to do?” Tikki asked hesitantly.

“Look,” Marinette began, “I’m one hundred percent fine with Adrien being himself. However, it wouldn’t be any fun if I just told him that Ladybug knew he was Chat. I want to make him figure it out.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m going to play his game.”

“By doing what exactly?”

“I’m gonna flirt with him. Chat Noir himself told me to channel some of my inner Ladybug confidence and go talk to my crush, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“You’re going to flirt with Adrien? In front of people?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head, “I’m going to flirt with Chat Noir. A leather-clad, cat-boy superhero with a larger than life personality who just so happens to be Adrien Agreste.”

Tikki sighed, “Are you sure about this Marinette?”

“Chat Noir flirts with Ladybug all the time. I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine. If he can dish it out, then he should be able to take it.”

“But you’re not transformed right now.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be all that much of a problem. Don’t you find it strange that he called me ‘purr-ty’ today? This was not the first time he’s flirted with me as Marinette. And what’s with the nickname? ‘Princess’? You can’t tell me there’s not something there. Besides, last night he seemed to get kind of flustered when I asked him if he liked the girl who stutters around him all the time. Well, NEWSFLASH...I’m that girl!”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Marinette?”

“Of course I don’t know what I’m doing. Does anyone ever know what they’re doing when they’re in love?”

Tikki beamed. “So you’re really in love with him?”

“Oh, yes, Tikki,” Marinette said with a lovesick smile, “I love him more than you could possibly imagine. You know, all those months ago when Chat asked me if I would have given him a chance if it wasn’t for the boy I liked, do you know how much I wanted to say yes? He’s so kind and sweet. Is he sometimes over the top and a little stubborn? Yes, but aren’t we all? At the end of the day, he’s a gentleman and he’s loyal. Everything that Chat Noir is...well, now that I know that it’s Adrien under the mask, it all makes sense...and it makes me love him that much more.”

“Marinette, I’m so happy for you! But...what are you actually hoping to accomplish today?”

“Well, if that boy is going to tease me for the rest of eternity about this, then I would like a little bit of leverage. However, at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy. He looks so miserable when he thinks no one is looking. I think this will make him happy...or at least it will be a hilarious story to tell our kids one day!”

Tikki laughed and shook her head. “And if he’s actually anything like Plagg tells me he is, then he will be extremely happy. BUT...it’s important that you are happy, as well, Marinette. Will this plan of yours help you find something that will make you happy?”

“Yeah,” Marinette responded flipping her hair over her shoulder, “a boyfriend.”

***

Adrien tapped his foot nervously under the desk. He was very worried about Marinette. This was exactly like the time she had gotten hurt at the ice rink. She had looked so upset then, and he hated seeing her doing anything other than smiling. Marinette was the kind of person who should never have a frown on her face.

He couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for making her run out of the classroom. He thought she at least liked Chat Noir, but maybe there were still some hard feelings that remained after the whole getting her dad akumatized debacle. It’s not like she knew he was actually Chat Noir, but maybe acting like his alter-ego had triggered something in her mind. He was used to her getting flustered, but seeing her like this had really upset him.

He didn’t know why, but he desperately wanted to make her feel better.

“Feeling like this is normal, right?” he thought to himself, “Yeah...definitely. Because part of being a good friend to someone is caring for their wellbeing. You got this, Agreste.”

Class had started shortly after Marinette rushed out of the classroom, so Adrien hadn’t yet spoken to Nino or Alya regarding the incident. After fifteen grueling minutes, Miss Bustier (finally) asked the class to work on an assignment in pairs.

“Dude,” Nino quietly exclaimed, “what the heck was that!”

“What are you talking about?” Adrien answered with a shoulder shrug.

“I’m talking about all that sweet talk with Marinette. Why would you do that?”

“I told you. I’m simply trying to be the most authentic version of myself.”

“So, does that mean the “authentic Adrien” has a thing for Marinette? Because if you don’t, that was a seriously low blow, man.”

Adrien paused. That was the second time in twenty-four hours that someone had confronted him about potential feelings for Marinette. Was it so wrong for one friend to think that another friend was pretty?

Besides, Adrien only had eyes for Ladybug. He knew that one day his lady would return his affections...well, he hoped she would. A cat could dream.

“Marinette’s just a friend. Sure, I think she’s beautiful, but she likes someone else,” Adrien remarked in his best “matter-of-factly” voice.

“Seriously? You mean you really haven’t figured it out?” Nino threw his head back and groaned.

“Look, I care about Marinette. I would never deliberately do anything to hurt her, but you have to admit, she is an incredibly pretty girl. She’s just as beautiful as any of the models I work with at photo shoots. That’s a fact. I’m not the first person to point that out.”

“Adrien. Do you even hear yourself right now?” Nino turned to his girlfriend in the row behind him, “Alya, help me out here...please!”

The young journalist shook her head and leaned over. “Adrien, as long as we are stating ‘facts’, all the people who have ever openly admitted that Marinette was a ‘pretty girl’ had crushes on her.”

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t think your own best friend is pretty?” Adrien said with a smirk.

“No, I think she’s pretty, but I don’t tell her when I see her first thing in the morning...like you did today. AND I especially don’t do it while calling her ‘Princess’.” Alya crossed her arms and returned the smirk.

Adrien’s heart thumped loudly in his chest.

“Oh,” he thought, “that’s new...or...is it? It has to be. Because I only have feelings for…”

Nino interrupted his thoughts. “Yeah, what was up with that nickname?”

“Well,” Adrien was unsure of where to start, “it suits her.”

“Do you have nicknames like that for any more of your ‘just a friend’ friends?” Alya questioned.

He retreated back into his mind. “Yeah, Ladybug, but I can’t go and tell them that. But there isn’t any other girl I talk to like that...oh…”

“Oh, no,” he mumbled fixing his eyes on the front of the classroom.

Alya chuckled quietly, “That’s what I thought, sunshine.”

Nino turned to look at her, “Babe, I think you broke him.”

The moment Nino completed his statement, Marinette burst into the classroom. Her eyes immediately fell on Adrien. The stunned boy looked up and took a shuddering breath when he saw who was walking in his direction. Marinette shook her hair out of her face and sauntered confidently across the classroom.

“And I think he’s about to become even more broken,” Alya whispered quickly before Marinette took her seat next to her best friend.

***

Marinette held her head high as she strutted to her seat. She could feel a flutter of nervousness bubbling in her gut, but she was able to suppress it quickly.

“It’s not just Adrien anymore,” she thought, “This is also your Chaton. Your silly, flirty, lovable goofball of a partner. You know he’s in love with you. You can do this. All you need to do is make it through the day. You can freak out later.”

As she sat down, Alya leaned over and asked, “Hey girl, are you feeling better?”

Before Marinette could answer, a concerned looking Adrien turned around in his seat. “Yeah, Marinette. I...WE...yes...we were all worried about you.”

She leaned over the desk and playfully bopped Adrien’s nose and smiled. “Thanks for the concern, hot stuff, but don’t worry. Nothing is bugging me anymore.”

Adrien’s face turned bright red and his eyes grew wide. Alya carefully placed a hand on Marinette’s arm to get her attention.

Alya’s eyes were filled with worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette said turning her gaze back to Adrien, “I’m feline great, but Adrien isn’t looking too good. It seems like he’s starting to come down with the same thing I had.”

Marinette leaned over and felt Adrien’s forehead. “You’re a little warm.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something while you were in the bathroom?” Alya pulled Marinette over and checked her for injuries.

“I’m fine, Alya,” Marinette insisted. She then proceeded to wink at Adrien.

“Miss Bustier!” Alya called across the classroom, “I think there’s something wrong with Marinette. She might be having a stroke or something.”

Marinette leaned in close to Alya and whispered loud enough for Adrien to hear, “The only stroke anyone is having right now is a stroke of genius.”

“Oh my God.” The young journalist did her best to hide her shock.

“Marinette,” their teacher replied, “if you’re still not feeling well, you are welcome to go to the nurse.”

Adrien shook himself out of his dazed state and stood up from his seat. “I can take her there, Miss Bustier.”

The teacher nodded, and Adrien moved next to Marinette’s seat. He held out his arm, and she happily took it. Adrien took great care to safely guide Marinette down the stairs. She rested her head on his shoulder causing him to once again turn bright red.

“What the actual freak is happening right now?” Nino remarked.

“I have no idea,” Alya answered as the duo walked out of the classroom.

***

As Adrien walked Marinette down to the nurse’s office, he tried to calm himself down. However, he could feel her breath against his neck, and his brain forgot how to function properly.

“She’s just a friend,” he told himself, “She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend.”

Marinette looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“She’s going to kill me if she keeps this up,” he noted mentally, “At least it will be a happy death.”

“Thank you for walking me to the nurse,” she smiled, “I always know that I can count on my knight in shining armor. Or are you my Prince Charming? Oh, maybe you’re both. Yes. You’re definitely both.”

Adrien attempted to be suave. “Did something happen, Princess? You’re not usually like this.”

“Well,” she started, “I’m not usually like this around you, but I’m trying to be more like myself around my crush today. I promised a friend that I would. You’d like him. You probably even know him. Actually, one might even think that you two could practically be the same exact person.”

“Marinette, you’re not making any sense.”

“Oh yeah? Let me try to be clearer. Did I ever mention to you that I once told Chat Noir that I loved him?”

Adrien gulped. “You...you did?”

Marinette tightened her grip on Adrien’s arm and moved closer to his side. “Yup, he showed up on my balcony after an Akuma attack one day, and I professed my undying love to him. You should have seen his face! It was kind of like how yours is right now.”

Adrien felt warm. This was beginning to be too much for him to handle.

Marinette continued. “At the time I was actually trying to cover up an even bigger secret that I’m pretty sure he was about to figure out. Anyway, I wasn’t really in love with him...or at least that’s what I thought. I’m beginning to think that turning him away was a big mistake.”

“Wasn’t that the same time that he got your dad akumatized? Aren’t you angry at him for that?” Adrien asked tentatively.

“Why would I be angry at Chat Noir for something Hawkmoth did?” she replied shaking her head, “No, I’m actually grateful that Chat was there. He was so sweet and brave. He is a true hero.”

“Really?” Adrien’s voice was hoarse, “So does that mean you’re still in love with Chat Noir?”

They had reached the entrance to the nurse’s office. Marinette pulled away from Adrien and stood in front of him.

“Oh, you’re so silly! I don’t know if anyone has told you yet, but yeah...I’m in love with you. I always have been,” she smiled sweetly and placed her hand on his shoulder, “Anyway, I’ll see you a little later, kitty.”

Before Adrien could respond, Marinette turned on her heel and walked into the nurse's office. She quickly closed the door behind her leaving a stunned boy in her wake.

Adrien could feel his heart thumping loudly again.

Thump.

Marinette told him that she loved him.

Thump.

Hearing her say that made him happy.

Thump.

Maybe she wasn’t just a friend.

“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself.

Adrien walked quietly back to the classroom attempting to unpack his revelation. However, he was still rather confused. He felt like he was missing something. It was like being almost done with a puzzle, but a few of the pieces were gone.

He re-entered the classroom and took his seat.

“What happened?” Alya asked still visibly concerned, “Is she okay?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Adrien shrugged, “She told me that she loves me.”

“She did what?!”

“Yeah, she was saying all this stuff that didn’t make any sense. It was like she was talking in code, and then she called me…”

Thump.

She’d called him ‘kitty’.

Thump.

Only one person calls him ‘kitty’.

Thump.

There is was. One of the missing pieces of the puzzle.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed.

Nino shook Adrien’s shoulder and didn’t get a response. “He’s definitely broken this time, Alya.”

Adrien was suddenly struck with another realization. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

His mind was racing. “Ladybug knows who I am.”

<—Previous Next—>

AO3

Fanfiction.net

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #chapter 3 #Chat for a Day #chat noir #ladybug #ladybug x chat noir

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years

Text

Witness

Did someone say “more Branded AU?” No? Well, you get it anyways! Because Jay just dumped a whole bunch of art and I got suddenly motivated! I haven’t written Chase in this AU yet, let’s see what his backstory is. Again, Branded was made by Jay, @blade-of-memeora! Go check out more on their profile!

The morning dawned cool and gray. Chase woke up to weak sunlight landing on his face. He rolled over to see Stacy had already woken up and left. She’d been kind enough to make her side of the bed, but apparently she also opened the curtains on their bedroom window. Probably as a way to remind Chase to get up. He smiled sleepily, then flung away the blankets and stood up.

He walked into the kitchen moments later still in his pajamas. Stacy was already dressed for work, her short dark hair neatly combed, framing her glasses. She was currently sitting at the kitchen table, yanking a brush through Caroline’s hair. Caroline’s brother, Liam, was sitting at the counter, trying to lace up his shoes. He looked up when Chase entered the room and started to giggle. “Daddy’s in his jammies.”

Chase ruffled his son’s hair. “Well, Daddy doesn’t have to go to work like Mommy does. You buds have breakfast yet?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Well, we can’t have that! Do we have time for pancakes?”

That caught Caroline’s attention. “Yes! Yes we do!”

“Carol, I can’t do your braid if you keep wriggling,” Stacy said, playfully exasperated. Caroline settled down. Stacy grabbed one of the nearby hair ties, checking her watch in the same motion. “Are you sure you can do that in time, Chase? School starts in forty minutes.”

Chase frowned. “Mmmaybe. Probably. Possibly.”

Stacy bit her lip. “It should take maybe fifteen minutes. And it takes another ten minutes to drive to the school. If I walk to work today, everything will figure out.”

“Aw, you don’t need to walk. I’m sure I can make something else.”

“Pancakes!” The kids said in unison.

“No, I don’t think you can,” Stacy laughed.

“Hmm, I see your point.” Chase smiled. He walked over to the cupboards, pulling out the pancake mix, milk, and other ingredients. “Anything big going on today? For any of you?”

“I think we’re gonna have a quiz,” Caroline said, stroking her newly-braided hair.

“I dunno,” Liam shrugged.

“I have a meeting with the other department heads,” Stacy said. “Should be home a little bit late. What about you? Any plans for having the house to yourself?”

“Oh!” Chase brightened up. “Well, I checked the delivery site, and it says my new camera should be arriving today! So I can take that out around town, been a while since I did one of those.”

“Nice,” Stacy said. “Hey, while you’re over there, get the cereal bars out for me?”

Chase opened one of the higher cupboards, pulling out a box of granola bars and sliding them across the counter towards Stacy. “Y’know, you should really have something more substantial.”

“I can pick something else up from the cafe.” Stacy stood up and grabbed two of the bars from the box. Then she turned right back around, grabbing her work bag. “Guess I’m heading out now. See you kiddos later.” She stopped briefly to give Caroline and Liam small kisses on their foreheads. “Chase, you might need to fill up the gas on the car, it was getting close to empty last I checked.”

“Wait! Before you go!” Chase abandoned the pancake batter and dashed across the kitchen, stopping next to Stacy just as she was about to leave. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day at work.”

“Aw, thanks, sweetheart.” Stacy smiled, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “I’ll see you around 6, if everything goes smoothly.” And with that, she left.

Chase stared after her for a moment, a dopey smile on his face, before he was interrupted. “Daaad, is the grill supposed to be making that noise?”

“Oh!” He spun around and rushed back. “Yes, Caroline, that’s normal. Now do either of you want anything in your pancakes or do you want them plain?”

Much later in the day, Chase was sitting in the living room, playing with his new camera. It had arrived soon after he’d picked up the kids from school. And now that it was fully charged, he was getting used to the buttons and settings. The quality was amazing, so much better than his old one. He’d say it warranted a bit of a test run.

He glanced over at the wall clock. It was getting close to six. Stacy said she should be home soon. Maybe he could surprise her by meeting her halfway.

After a brief check in on the kids, who were playing video games on their DSs together, and making sure they would be safe to leave alone for a few minutes, he swung open the front door and stepped outside into the cool fall night. The street lamps had come on in the neighborhood, though the light hadn’t completely left yet. The sky was a gray-blue color, with the horizon tinted orange with the last remains of sunset. Chase turned on the camera. Still a pretty good picture, even outside. He walked a couple blocks before pressing record.

“Hey, what’s up my dudes? I’m Chase, welcome back to Bro Average. I got a new camera today, and thought I might test it out for you guys. Look at this.” He panned around the street. “It’s dusk and we don’t have too much night blindness going on. And check this out!” He pressed a button on the side of the camera. “This thing even has night vision! That’s so cool! Totally not one of the reasons I wanted to buy this.” He chuckled, turning off the night vision again. “Cost a lot, too. Been saving up for months to get this model.”

He walked another two blocks, aimlessly chattering to his imaginary audience about anything. Life, the surroundings, current events. Maybe he’d edit that out, he wasn’t too sure. “Okay, but I know what you’ve all been wondering this whole time,” he finally said. “Why are we out here, in the suburbs, just past sunset? Is it really just to show off the new camera? Well, sort of, but you guys are in for a treat. I’m introducing someone to the channel who you’ve never seen before, but probably heard me talk about. Like, a lot. That is, if she’ll let me keep the footage…in…”

Chase stopped in his tracks. He’d just rounded a corner, coming out from behind one of the houses. Now, staring down the street, he could see Stacy, walking briskly in his direction. She wasn’t too far, close enough that he could recognize her silhouette but still small in the distance. He grinned. He could really surprise her by waiting just out of sight. He backed away so he was mostly covered by the corner of the house’s tall fence, with just his head and the camera sticking out. “Oh my god, that’s her! Okay, you got your look, not it’s time to hide and let her just happen across—wait. What was that?”

Some sort of flash had appeared in the corner of his vision. His eyes snapped to the other side of the street. There were three people there, he could make them out in the fading remains of green light from the flash. They hadn’t been there before, had they? The green light disappeared, but he could still see their outlines and…were they looking at Stacy? Chase squinted. They were. Not only that, they were speeding up to match her pace.

What was this? Who were they? He couldn’t quite make them out...and then he remembered the camera in his hand. He turned on the night vision, and looked through the viewfinder to see the three people clearly. Two of them were wearing capes, but the all had…masks.

Chase could feel his heart stop. No. No, that was…that wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening to them. Sure, he’d read about the masked people and the trouble they were causing on news websites, but they’d always seemed far away, even though some of the incidents occurred in their very city. There was no reason for them to come after Stacy.

Stacy was speeding up. She must have seen them out of the corner of her eyes. Chase opened his mouth to warn her, to tell her he was there, to say anything, but no words came out. And the masked were speeding up too.

Suddenly, there was another flash of green light, and the trio disappeared. Chase leaned back from the camera, blinking away the darkness caused by the flash in the night vision. When he could see clearly again, the three masked were standing in front of Stacy. What the hell? Nobody could run that fast! Stacy yelped. She was close enough that Chase could hear that sound carry down the street toward him. “Back off!” She quickly composed herself, digging into her work bag. “I’m giving you one warning!”

“And we’ll give you one in turn.” Suddenly, three different lights flared to life before lowering down into a steady glow. It was coming from the masked’s hair. Each one a different color: Bright green, deep blue, rose red. The voice from before continued. “This will be easier if you don’t resist. You’ll find life better after, we can promise you that.”

“Ha! Sure.” And before the masked could respond to that, Stacy took her hand out of her work bag and whipped out the pepper spray she always carried, spraying the trio with a hiss. The green-haired one and the red-haired one reeled back, leaving Stacy just enough room to squeeze past them and start running.

Unfortunately, the blue-haired one had been unaffected. That one threw out their hand, and a flurry of dark blue energy spattered outward, circling around Stacy and covering the sidewalk beneath her feet in an icy sheen. She slipped, falling forward and landing hard. The masked immediately circled around her.

“Good job, ice bird,” said the voice from before. “Pick her up.”

The blue-haired one did so, pulling Stacy up and holding her in front of the red-haired one. “Let me go, you—you pricks!” Stacy stomped hard on the blue-haired one’s foot, but they didn’t show any reaction.

“We will. Eventually.” The red-haired one leaned forward, with the green-haired one hovering slightly behind him. “But first…” They snapped their fingers, causing a sudden gasp of red light to appear in their hand. They tossed the light back and forth between their hands, and it shifted and morphed each time it passed, like the masked was throwing mist itself. Stacy’s head followed the light, turning left and right, mimicking its path. Until the light slowed, hovering in midair between the masked’s hands. It twisted, contorting in repeated shapes, swimming mesmerizingly. The longer Stacy watched it, the less she struggled, movements slowing until they stopped entirely.

“Good,” said the voice, evidently the red-haired masked. They stretched their hand to the side, clearly expecting something. The green-haired one responded, a splash of green light coming from their—no, his, unlike the other two this one was clearly a man—hand. And suddenly he was holding something, which he passed into the red-haired one’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” they said. They adjusted the position of the item, then reached out and plucked Stacy’s glasses off her face, letting them fall to the ground. In their place, they put the item on her face.

Chase realized it was a mask a split second before Stacy’s hair suddenly changed color, flaring a soft light orange.

“Perfect,” the red-haired one said. “You can let go of her now.” The blue-haired one released their grip and took a step back. Stacy didn’t run. She just stood there, lifelessly. Like a robot waiting for instructions. “Would you look at that. Not only did we get a new one, but kitten’s first mission was a success!” The red-haired one turned to look at the green-haired one. “Take us back now, kitten.” The green-haired one nodded silently, and in another flash of light all four of them were gone.

Chase felt rooted to the spot. The same way he’d felt during the whole, short encounter. Stacy was…she was gone. Been taken. And he hadn’t even attempted to help. Sure, he’d been outnumbered, and they had—had magic, but that was no excuse. She was his wife, for god’s sake. And he just watched.

He rubbed his eyes on his sleeve, wiping away the few tears that had escaped. What was he supposed to do now? Could he go to the police with this? They knew about the masked one’s attacks, but he doubted they knew about the whole…magic thing. He had footage, so maybe…but…Chase swallowed. He just…didn’t know. Didn’t know what to do. How was he going to make up for losing her income? What would he tell the kids? Why hadn’t he done anything?

He leaned against the fence, closing his eyes. His hands were shaking as he turned the camera off. He needed solutions, yes. But more importantly, at least right now, he just—just needed to talk to someone. And there was one person who came to mind. He pulled his jacket close and set off back toward home. He’d get the car, check on the kids, and then head off toward the shop district.

Jameson entered the front of the shop. He’d made a brief detour back into the workshop to pick up a recently-repaired clock to replace one that had been sold that day. The first thing he saw when he came into the front was Chase, standing in front of the counter, clutching a video camera. He smiled at him, but that quickly faded when he saw the wide-eyed, trembling expression on Chase’s face. JJ put the clock on the counter and signed, What’s wrong?

“It’s Stacy,” Chase blurted. “She—I went out to find her, she was walking home and it was late—I don’t even know what—how do I—there were these people—you know what kind of people, right? They—I don’t—I didn’t—” His eyes were watery.

Slow down, JJ signed. Breathe. Remember how to breathe? In...Out...In...Out... He waited until Chase had calmed down a bit before continuing. Now, what’s wrong?

Chase didn’t say anything, just thrust the camera at JJ.

After a confused moment, JJ took it. He fiddled with the buttons for a moment before figuring out how to access the previously recorded footage. As it began playing, he pulled over a chair and sat down. Chase hopped over the counter and ended up looking over his shoulder. At first, it just seemed like one of Chase’s goofier vlogs as he tested out the new camera. Until Chase finally caught up to Stacy and the three masked appeared. Jameson froze the moment they came on screen. One of them had hair glowing red…no, no it was a different shade. And seemed to be a different type of magic. It wasn’t too long before Stacy was masked as well, and all of them disappeared. Jameson looked up at Chase.

“I didn’t—I didn’t even do anything, Jamie,” Chase choked. “I just stood there and watched, like a-a-a coward. I should’ve at least tried.”

Chase, stop it, Jameson signed firmly, putting the camera down on the counter. It’s not your fault. People do strange things in high-pressure situations. You never know how you’ll react until you’re there. You were paralyzed, it was a perfectly natural response. And besides, at least you were able to catch what happened instead of being left to wonder.

Chase folded his arms. “I just—it’s Stacy. I should have tried.”

I have no doubt you did, Jameson assured him. But the panic dulled the response. It’s okay, Chase. It’s not your fault. He stood up.

“I...I guess,” Chase muttered.

No, you don’t ‘guess,’ you know. Say it.

“It’s...it’s not my fault.”

There we are. JJ smiled encouragingly. That’s a step in the right direction. But for now...I think I need to show you something.

Chase blinked. “Show me what?”

Just a few minutes later, the two of them were in the apartment above the shop. Chase had been here before, of course, but now JJ was showing him the one room he’d never been inside. It had always been kept locked, and honestly it was pretty well-disguised as a part of the wall as well. The only reason Chase even knew it was there was because he’d been here enough times to notice it. JJ unlocked the door, pushing it open and flicking on the lights.

“...dude,” Chase breathed.

The room could’ve been lifted out of a crime TV show. Around the edges were filing cabinets, and there were two tables with maps spread on them. The far wall was taken up by a board with photos, sticky notes, newspaper articles, and grids pinned on it. Chase walked forward in a daze, stopping right in front of the board. He turned around to look back at JJ. “What is all this?”

This is where I keep the information I’ve acquired about the masked, Jameson explained. I’ve been looking into them for years.

“How many years?” Chase asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oh. Shortly before we met, Jameson signed with a wry smile. But I wasn’t able to really start gathering information until my later teen years.

“Damn,” Chase muttered, turning back to the board. Every photo, every note, was connected to each other with red string. Except for one in the center: a polaroid picture of two people lovingly embracing. It was labeled “Mrs. + Mr. Jackson” with a date. “That’s them, huh?” he asked, turning back toward JJ. “They knew?”

Jameson sighed, sadness suddenly marring his features. Yes. They knew before me. Do you remember the fire? It...wasn’t actually a fire. It was one of the masked.

“Holy shit, dude.” Chase remembered hearing about the fire. Jameson hadn’t talked about it once in all these years, at least not besides the bare bones. “They—they can do that?”

Some of them. I’ve gathered that they have different types of magic. The ones who can—can do damage like that are rare. Jameson took a deep breath. But they exist. And whoever is behind all this sent one after them. They were getting too close, so he destroyed everything—Jameson suddenly stopped, closing his eyes and making a conscious effort to control his breathing. His hand was shaking, so he steadied it with his artificial one.

“Hey, Jamie.” Chase walked back over to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Jameson’s eyes opened. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sorry about everything. But…I mean, you’re not alone. You’ve still got me. And I’m sure your parents would be proud of what you’ve done here.”

Jameson gave a small smile, placing his hand on top of Chase’s for just a moment before signing Thank you.

“And now…” Chase removed his hand. “Well, now you’re gonna have help.”

JJ tilted his head. Are you offering?

“Of course I am!” Chase smiled. “We’re gonna get to the bottom of this, find whoever’s behind it, and get them to let everyone they’ve taken go, including Stacy. What do I need to know to do that?”

Jameson laughed, the sound near-silent. Well, then. It seems you have a lot to learn. Let’s get started.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #branded au

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