Peter's Motivational Speech

•LADY LUCK•

LADYBUG X READER X TANGERINE

Having to work with the most annoying person on the planet, your feelings for Mr. Bucket Hat definitely change the longer you're forced to be around him. But what happens when you end up in a killing spree free-for-all and the British guy from the next compartment over decides he has the hots for you too?

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of blood and gore, Sexual Innuendos, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of death ⚠️

Part One!!!

"You're in, Mantis."

The deep voice over your earpiece came through clear and curt as you made your way over to the train car you'd be stationed in until the mission was completed. Leaving the station, the bullet train made its way out of Tokyo and you could see the bright lights starting to dim as it pushed on towards the less populated portions of the city. You weren't phased by the sudden acceleration of the train as you had been on one of these a few years back when you'd been scouted for the team.

Thinking back to the night you were scouted to work under The White Death, you smiled at the memory. A train moving so fast that one would expect it to be safe from gunmen and their attempts at running a Cartel. Your family had watched in horror as the men infiltrated the train and held a couple people hostage, ready to use their lives for their own personal benefit. You were so stupid back then; a naivety that of which only comes with the contemptness of lifestyle. A younger version of yourself with less experience with this whole secret agent thing. You ended up saving your brother, three at the time, by turning the gun back onto the first person you’d ever killed. The White Death had been on that train and offered to free you from any charges you would face for murder if you had agreed to work under him. So, without much of a choice, you swore yourself to secrecy and began your work, never making it back home to spend time with the family members you had saved. You thought of them from time to time and how the news of your disappearance would have affected them. Not knowing if you made it out of that shitshow alive, that sort of thing. If only they hadn’t been captured by the same gunmen you joined The White Death to kill.  

The man’s face still haunted your dreams. A gruesome imagination and a harsh grin plastered over his older face. A giant scar ran across the bottom of his chin and made its way up to his nose, stopping directly under his tired but blood-thirsty eyes. 

"How much money is in the briefcase?" You asked Wyatt, the person who had been speaking to you over the small intercom. He had been assigned as your Handler from the White Death himself and he very much hated this position. It was your first day back on the job after helping to clean up the Bolivia incident.  

"Enough to pay ransom for that idiotic stupid family of yours." He said, becoming cross with you within a matter of seconds it seemed. You wished it was easier to connect with your partner, but he had made it very clear from the get-go that there wasn't going to be any friendly aspects of the job.

“Ironic how you say ‘idiotic’ and ‘stupid’ in the same sentence considering how redundant that is.” You snapped back, sliding into one of the empty seats that were furthest away from everyone else. A window seat in the back provided you with the perfect view of a few of the platforms you'd be hitting and the places you'd encounter on your trip. The seats were an uncomfortable upholstery and were colored a terrible blue which you assumed was to be calming but it was far from it. The rest of the fucking compartment was that hideous color that one only looks at with fondness once they reach their last stop of the night. The time when one would part ways with the train and all of the single-serving people they were forced to interact with while they waited to finally make it to wherever they needed to go. Leaving the train and knowing you wouldn't have to see that god-awful color again until your next boarding.

Taking a quick glance around your compartment, you take out your computer and paperwork to make it seem as though you were on a business trip. In a way, you were, but people wouldn't think anything of you talking into an earpiece if there looked to be a reason someone was calling. Sticking the gun from the corner of your pocket into the crevice between the wall of the train and the seat, you try your absolute hardest to get comfortable until the next stop, when you knew you would have to act fast and run to the baggage area without suspicion. Assuming that’s where the case would be. You hoped you would be able to take it without much of a fight... you were tired of cleaning up the aftermath of people not giving you your way. Blood stains don’t come out easily. 

Suddenly the seat in front of you was occupied. It startled you a bit at first since you were supposed to be alone, but you quickly recollected yourself and took note of the person before you. Longer blonde hair, thick rimmed glasses and a stupid bucket hat topped of this mystery man's look as he stared out into the walkway as if he was looking for someone or something. It seemed that he hadn't noticed you yet.

"Ahem." You said, clearing your throat to try and get the man to leave as this section of the train was clearly occupied.

“Mantis? Something wrong?” Wyatt answered from the earpiece, trying to make sure that the mission had started out going directly as planned. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have a chitchat with him while this stranger was in the vicinity, you switched it off and directed your attention at the person before you.

"Oh hey." The man said, turning around and staring you in the eyes. You could see him look you up and down before directing his gaze back to yours with an apologetic smile on his face. A strand of his bleached blonde hair fell from the hat atop his head and placed itself right in front of his eyes.

"This seat's taken."

He made an "oh" shape with his mouth as he nodded and smiled. Thanking the universe that that was all it took to get him to leave, you turn back to the window to wait for him to get up and go somewhere else. When that didn't happen, you turned back to the man only to see that he had moved a seat over instead of sitting in the one across from you by the window.

"Uh? Hello?" You said, shifting some of your stuff over to opposite side of the table so he wouldn't realize the papers weren’t written on. 

"Oh hey again." He said once more, smiling at you and taking off his hat. His demeanor was giving “sexy professor” and you hated to admit it, but he was damn fine. You wondered how old he was but soon decided it didn't matter. This wasn't a social trip.

"Hey, yeah. I thought I mentioned that this seat was taken?" You said in a calm but firm tone, trying to ward him off from your mission. You weren't going to be able to talk to Wyatt about anything with this dumbass bucket hat dude eyeing you up every now and then.

Running his hands through his hair to restore some of its volume, he looked back up at you. "Yeah, you mentioned that. That's why I'm over here now." He said. So he was the asshole flirtatious type. Perfect.

"A seat over?"

"Well you said that one was taken."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. What was with this guy? You thought American tourists at least knew that the trains in Japan were supposed to be quiet as a sign of respect to the other passengers. Guess not with this guy.

"You can't go sit in another compartment? Really?" You said, now letting some of your annoyance shine through.

"Are there any other hot people in those cars?" He asked with an aura of innocence despite the words that were leaving his mouth.

"Not any who'd be willing to talk to you."

"Feisty. That's how I like them."

You rolled your eyes in his direction and started to gather your things. If he was going to insist on sitting there, you would move yourself. You just had about everything packed up while he complained about you not wanting to sit next to him until you remembered the gun you had stuffed into the seat earlier. There was no way you'd be able to get it out now that this man was over here, trying his hardest to flirt his way into a better viewpoint of him. You put your things down and sat in your seat from before, hating that you had to give in to his pleas since you wouldn't be able to remove your weapon.

"Ah! You changed your mind." He said, a grin on his face and a confident tone now replacing his one from earlier.

"Whatever. When's your next stop?" You asked, trying to see how long you would have to deal with this moron for. An hour you could take, but if he was going all the way to Kyoto then this might possibly be the worst mission you've been given.

He smiled. "Whenever I can get out. Might take me until Kyoto, who knows."

Great. Just fucking great.

...

Tangerine held his hands in his suit pockets, feeling around for the familiarity of his pocket watch. He needed to know when phase two of their plan would commence and when he would be able to make his escape with his brother in tow, safe and sound. He hated having to be in this business but he would do whatever it took to keep Lemon safe and sound.

Walking into the train car with the hideous blue accent, he held a peculiar silver case in his hand with a sticker that looked as though it came out of a kid's coloring book. This sticker was a ploy to keep any wandering eyes out as they would assume it belonged to a five-year old or someone one that age. The blue train sticker beamed up at him as though it were urging him forward towards the luggage compartment ahead only for him to place it above him and Lemon's seats.

"I can take it." Lemon said, pressing for the case in Tangerine's hand. There was something magnificent about the case itself, as though it held a power that would trap everyone's fixation and would possess even the strongest of morals. It gleamed under the soft lighting and for a moment Tangerine recoiled. If he allowed Lemon to take the case and it be misplaced, their whole mission could be askew. But, he trusted his brother. Which is what led him to handing over the shiny object with a slight hesitation.

"Be careful with it, please." He said, worry prevalent in his eyes. He was tired from last night's event in Soho.

"I'm a secret agent. Of course I'm bloody careful." Lemon replied as he took the baggage and went to another compartment while Tangerine looked for a seat. Seeing one open in the back, he moved towards it with a calm expression on his face only to find that it was already occupied by a man in a stupid bucket hat and-

One of the most beautiful human beings he had ever set eyes on.

Her eyes were a beautiful color, a contrast from the hideousness of the train compartment before him. The way she held herself as though she knew her self worth, but was still modest and humble. Her hair which fell just slightly above her eyes as she moved about the compartment, gathering the miscellaneous papers and electronics. As soon as everything was gathered up, she froze in place and stared at her now empty seat before sitting back down again. There was something about that stare; a hidden fear.

He needed to know what it was. Whatever force compelled him to make his way to her direction pulled at his shoes and drove him to her seat where they locked eyes. Her mouth muttering in annoyance at the fact that there were now two pretty men screwing up her mission and not leaving her alone.

"Is-is he bothering you?" Tangerine managed to get out an entire sentence to his surprise with pertinence to the situation. He had thought all he was capable of would be a hello or a simple nod. He surprised himself quite a bit today.

Your eyes widened in sudden admiration for the man in the blue suit. "Oh yes. Please tell him to go away." You said, hoping that this British man would be your savior against Mr. Bucket Hat who was trying so hard to insist that his name was Ladybug.

Ladybug followed your eyes to Tangerine and he smiled. "I can appreciate a fine ass man when I see one." He said, leaning back against the seat and making himself more and more comfortable as the train rolled off into the distance.

"You-you-" Tangerine started but whatever confidence he had upon starting this conversation left him entirely as he tried to tell off this "Ladybug" guy. Embarrassed, he quickly composed himself and looked at the man. "I would leave this woman alone if I were you. It's not polite."

Tangerine then went further towards the front of the compartment with his hands back in his pockets as he twiddled his thumbs and thought over the encounter while he was with Lemon.

"Something happen?" He asked, concerned as to why his usually stoic brother had taken a turn down Anxiety Lane. With his eyes wide and jaw clenched Tangerine looked as though he had an encounter with a ghost shortly before sitting down with Lemon to have this conversation. 

“I think-” He began, before he looked back over at the person a couple seats ahead of him. She was still sitting by the doofus with the hat but seemed to be quite interested in whatever the man had to say all of a sudden. Almost as soon as he was distracted by her once more, he noticed something off about his brother which sent him into a bit of a British frenzy.

“What the fuck are you doing!? Trying to show off your blood-stained shirt to everyone in Tokyo?” Tangerine whisper shouted and motioned towards his brother’s coat which was propped open, blood from last night’s events in Soho dried onto his white button-down. 

“Well, yeah. I want people to see my new tie.”

...

The gun that was stashed away by your side begged you to grab it and threaten Ladybug to leave you alone. He was really starting to get on your nerves (attractive as he may be) and you had hoped that British guy would’ve come to your rescue only for him to fail at that. Today was not a good day for keeping your hopes up, that’s for sure. 

“Hey, what kind of name is Mantis anyways?” The man before you questioned upon noticing the inscription of a name on your luggage overhead. He looked smug, in a way, as if he knew you were being glued to the spot due to your hidden weapon. 

“What kind of name is Ladybug?” You asked in retort, trying to get under this guy’s skin like he was getting under yours. 

“It’s a codename. Ever heard of those before, Miss Pretentious?”

You stopped your bickering and looked at him- really looked at him. The glasses, the hat, the bleached hair that looked like it was horribly done over the kitchen sink. It was a disguise. And a horrible one at that. 

You leaned over the table and he followed suit, the two of you being so close you could feel each other’s breaths over the cheap train seating. You switched from your usually calm attitude to a more serious and intentional tone as you wanted to figure out just what exactly this Ladybug wanted with you. It wasn’t to pointlessly flirt with you, no. It was to feel you out. 

“First day on the job, newbie?” You asked, now finally understanding what he was truly doing here. And by the sound of the codename, it was assigned to him, not something he chose for himself.

“Oh so you’re an agent too?” he said, pulling out a Fiji water bottle and removing the cap with a knowing smile, “figures the sexy lady might be an enemy of mine.”

Your hand clenched at your side as you realized the weight of your words, becoming even more irritated than you already were. What did this guy want? What business did he have being on this train or Japan in general? Was he after the case too?

“I can see the little gears spinning in your mind,” he said, taking a drink from his water bottle and placing it down on the table, “It’s alright, I won’t say anything to anyone else.”

“Who do you think you are?” You asked, now fully invested with what the man was saying but also pissed off that he had come over and somewhat blown your cover within minutes of you being on the train.

“I’ve tried to tell you already. The name’s Ladybug. I’m filling in for Carver.”

“Why would you tell me that? You do realize that being undercover means that you’re undercover?”

Ladybug played with the cap of his water bottle and flicked it off the top so it flew towards your seat. He was all kinds of childish, this guy.

“Between us is a wall,” he began, checking his watch to see the time as he continued to explain his reasoning, “and within every wall is a window. Er, shit- I mean a door..”

...

Tangerine felt himself focus back to the mission at hand. He quickly scolded himself for being tired enough for his mind to drift in every direction other than the right one, letting himself become distracted by a girl nonetheless. He straightened out his tie and placed his hands on the table, his hair slicked back and the watch on his wrist gave others the illusion of his put-togetherness. Inside, however, he was an absolute mess as he ran over every intrusive thought stationed in his brain. The White Death, his son, the case. It was all a lot for one individual to ponder.

He did have his brother by his side though, and that made things more worthwhile. Lemon always made the job easier as he was someone Tangerine could truly confide in. The two had definitely seen the weight of the world and surrounded themselves with the death that came with work. It meant something to be able to come home to someone who at least knew of the things he had to deal with and could sympathize with his negativity. 

Those were the moments he loved his brother. When he was rambling on about Thomas the Tank Engine, though, he did not. 

“Gordon. Gordon is the strongest and the bravest of the group. Like Tangerine, for example.” Lemon huffed out with a dopey smile and placed the train sticker onto the deadliest man alive’s son’s forehead. The Russian boy did not look pleased with Lemon’s antics as he shrugged off the situation entirely and removed the sticker, placing it onto the sleeve of Lemon’s coat. 

“Tangerine? Like the fruit?” The boy said, glancing at the two men whom he woke up to next. His face was covered with those kitchy do-it-yourself tattoos which read various phrases, most of which were just “fuck you” in different languages. His hair was disheveled and curly to the point where it looked too unkempt to possibly be on one’s head. To be fair though, he hadn’t showered for at least three days before Tangerine and his brother had to force him on this train back to his unloving father. 

“Like the blessings.” Lemon rolled his eyes as they had been asked that question one too many times that day. 

“I’m supposed to put my trust into people named after fruits?”

“They’re codenames. A delinquent like you should know a thing or two about that. And no, you shouldn’t put your trust into us since we’re taking you back to your father.” Tangerine said, matter-of-fact. This trust fund baby needed a kick in the balls. 

This made the delinquent get immediately frustrated as he realized where he was now. He had worked diligently to remove himself from familial affairs and now he had a one-way ticket back to the man he hated the most. He tried to get up from his seat, but Lemon was quick to draw the gun from his coat pocket, revealing the blood spatters from before. Hesitantly, the White Death’s son sat back down and placed his hands on the table in a manner similar to Tangerine. 

“Good, good. That’s how I figured this conversation would be going.” Lemon sighed and turned to his brother who wore a matching expression of exhaustion. 

“Now, we’re going to deliver you to your father and bring him that briefcase. Then, your rich little family will pay us as we deserve,” Tangerine began, unfolding his hands and using them to gesture what he was saying, “and because your father hired the best assassins in the world, we’ll be able to keep our arms.” 

“Indeed, we will.” Lemon said, grinning ever so slightly at how uncomfortable the atmosphere around their victim was getting. He definitely enjoyed the interrogation portions of his job. 

Suddenly, the tattooed boy grinned even more maliciously than Lemon as he leaned over the table to enunciate his next sentence, “What makes you think my father will let you keep your arms?” 

Tangerine spoke next, “Because he knows of our skill. He hired us for a reason, dipshit,” his British accent poked through his words, “And if either of us is to lose our limbs, it’ll be Lemon, not me.” 

“Why do I have to lose my arms? You know how much I like them.” Lemon whined. 

“Because I need mine.”

“Who’s to say I don’t need mine?”

Tangerine sighed once more and turned to his brother who looked so innocent holding a gun. 

“Because I get more kills than you do.” So what if it was a petty argument? Tangerine was quite tired of hearing Thomas the Tank Engine references and if this would shut his brother up, then so be it. However, Lemon retaliated. 

“What about the job in Bolivia?”

“What about it?” 

“Well, you know. We work best together. Our seventeen kills just trying to get this guy on a train with us.” Lemon raised the gun up a little higher to spark some sort of fierceness within the boy sitting next to him. The Russian seemed to have stopped listening in on the conversation and was more intently focused on what was happening directly outside of the train window.

“Sixteen. Sixteen kills.” Tangerine corrected, blinking his eyes in fake astonishment towards Lemon’s false counting.

“Seventeen, actually.”

This was going to be a long ride to Morioka.  

...

The train accelerated even faster as it traveled throughout the entirety of Tokyo, wind whipping around the sides of the steel structure and piercing through the wind. It was going so fast that even the windows were hard to see out of; occasionally one would see a building here and there but everything else was hard to make out. 

Tapping her nails against her book which read “The Communist Manifesto,” Prince waited for the man she had stunned to wake up and allow her to talk of her plans. Her outfit worked in the way that she had hoped it would, as she was trying to come off as an innocent schoolgirl. It was such a ridiculous concept in the secret agent world for her to not be taken seriously considering the fact that she was born a woman. Well, how she would change that perception when she finally got her way.

Gasping for air upon awakening, the man whom had searched the train with a gun to kill Prince (and had bumped into Ladybug moments before boarding) took immediate notice of his surroundings, looking for his attacker. Upon seeing the young girl dressed in bright pink, he frowned and the lines around his eyes followed suit, wrinkles on his face despite only being thirty-seven. Prince was supposed to be a man he had presumed, as his son Wataru had been pushed off of a building in spite of his involvement with The White Death.

“Who are you?” Yuichi, the man, spat out in the best English he could muster. His confident and mysterious demeanor left him once he realized that the woman was holding a gun under her table, directly pointed at him with the intent of firing if he misbehaved. Yuichi took the best course of action and decided to shrink away into his chair with the red upholstery, trying his best to be swallowed whole by the velvety fabric. 

“I,” the girl began, looking down at her finger which was placed on the trigger, “am The Prince.” 

Yuichi glared at her and thought back to his son who was currently in the hands of the hospital that took him in after the fall. His mind ran through images of Wataru, small and frail in the confines of the bed, hooked up to miscellaneous machines and tubes. 

“And you, Yuichi, are going to help me.”

“How do you figure?” He said, knowing that she had the high ground due to the weapon she had stolen from him moments after striking him with a taser. 

She took the gun and wrapped a pink hairtie around the handle; the beads on it were shining as the lights beamed down overhead. Prince then placed it on the table with the body of the gun facing Yuichi himself. She glanced to the binding around his wrists, and reached over to free him before resuming her position in her chair, just about to reach for the gun when-

-Yuichi made a leap for it and grabbed it, facing it towards The Prince who was now smiling.

“I wonder how my hitman is doing, watching over your son. Let’s call him, shall we?”

...

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the first installment of my Bullet Train series! I want this to be fast-paced and scattered like the movie, and I tried my best to make all of the plotlines match up while also including another character. I think this is the first fanfiction I’ve written where I’ve taken out a notebook and pen to make this go as smoothly without issues as possible. I hope to see more Tangerine and Ladybug fanfics as I am in love with this movie. Enjoy!

💛🦐

MAKE ME CHOOSE ↳ wings or love yourself era? — anonymous

Hey!! I am currently working through some other fanfics that have been in my drafts forever and I have a Cliff Booth one coming out soon! However, I was wondering if I should post the Seo Moon-Jo one I've written? It definitely falls into the yandere category....but then again, it is Seo Moon-Jo.

Thoughts?

💛🦐

BIKE RIDES AND CIGARETTES

Brad Pitt X Reader

Biking around the city with your husband!!!!!

Just a little drabble I wrote while I find the motivation to finish my other fanfictions :)

The spokes of your bike tires made cute little noises as the cards you had stuck to them flapped in the wind. Your footing on the pedals loose as you allow yourself to fully relax and enjoy the sunrise coming up from the east overhead, creating a nice yellow/blue tone over everything you saw. It was a perfect temperature; the petrichor from the rain that morning had left a dewy feel to everything you touched and made it perfect for a light sweater and ripped jeans. Your hair blew around in soft movements as you pedaled faster down the edges of the Seine River, the cool breeze being picked up from the water made its way to your face as it gently caressed your skin. Today was perfect.

Following suit, your husband of a year and half was behind you, looking out towards the scenery and the hazy light of the sun stretched across the sky. His hair was a perfect mess and his smile was brilliant as he flashed his lovely teeth. Brad loved bike rides almost as much as he loved you; being able to participate in both loves at the same time was the best feeling in the world to him. He was also clad in dark jeans and a light beige cardigan. He looked like he was straight out of a Renaissance painting.

Continuing down the cobblestone paths and around the bridge, you push through the soft wind to try and get to the spot you and Brad often shared your coffees on a park bench. The Eiffel Tower was on full display and there was something about it that looked extra breathtaking today, although you didn't know if it was because you were genuinely very happy or if it was the weather.

"Babe!" You slowly started to stop your bike as you waited for Brad to catch up with you. Wind blowing his sweater around him, he stopped his bike next to yours and took in the sight before him. You were beautiful and he could've sworn that if he had the opportunity to, he would fall in love with you in every country the two of you traveled to. Being a bit of a movie star definitely helped him with travelling.

"What's wrong?" You asked, voice laced with a slight worry.

"Nothing, everything is absolutely perfect." Brad smiled to you and leant in slightly as he delivered that line.

"May I ask why we stopped then?"

"There's a bookstore that you missed in your hurried attempt to escape me." He smiled and went to kiss you softly on your cheek before mounting his bicycle once again and kicking the stand back.

Excitedly, you hop back on your bike and feel for the pedals, pushing the flyaway strands of hair away from your eyes and allowing a smile to adorn your features. Taking one last glance at the edge of the river, you turn towards the direction of your husband and follow him on your bike to the little corner store you happened to completely glance over.

A worn out and faded sign was placed outside the front of the store, reading the name of the shop: "The Delicate Spine- used and renewed books of all sorts." It was a hand-me-down bookstore so there was definitely some treasures to be found on it's shelves. Itching in anticipation of what you might find to add to your book collection, you chain the front of your bike to the stand out front next to Brad's and the two of you walk in.

Wooden shelves scattered in no particular order were all around the entirety of the small place, a staircase leading to the basement which presumably had more of the same visual. The walls were a light yellow with a white trim and the paint was chipped and faded. The bell sounded above your head signalling your entrance to the older man who worked at the front desk and a sudden exhilarating smell of coffee filled your nose. It was a quaint and beauteous little place; you wondered how you could've possibly missed it before.

"All hardcovers are 20% off." The man stated with a smile as he shuffled around grabbing a box of books and walking towards the back of the store. Brad looked to you and grabbed your hand, leading you immediately down the stairs to the more abandoned shelving units in hopes of finding books of odder taste. It was funny how even a place full of items people didn't want anymore had a place within it that was even more abandoned by the public eye. With your free hand, you lightly touched the chipped paint on the walls with the tips of your fingers, gliding your hand along the wall as you made your descent; noticing the way the paint turned into a flowery wallpaper. The air was significantly cooler down here, giving you the notion that you were finally underground in the basement as you took in the plethora of books and scripts in front of you.

"I'll start on the left, you on the right?" Brad asks as he makes his way to the opposite end of the room.

"Sounds perfect to me." You replied and found yourself rummaging through the spines and loose papers. The smell of the basement was so nice, the earthy scent and the ink on paper would be one that you would remember for a long time. You wished you could encapsulate it into your memory for forever, going back to this moment whenever you felt so.

While searching through the faded titles, you come across an old favorite. Pulling out the familiar art deco cover, you notice the giant coffee stain on the front of it. Snickering to yourself, you flipped through the pages of The Great Gatsby by Scott F. Fitzgerald. There were highlights and notes in the margins signifying that whomever owned the book previously certainly got their use out of it. Grinning at the familiar name Jay Gatsby, you remembered your love for his character.

Eventually, you found yourself running your fingers over more and more titles, some of which were familiar and others that went by names you'd never heard of. Amidst your gazing, your fingers brushed over Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. However, it seemed that someone else had a similar idea and your hand grazed Brad's. Meeting his gaze, he flashed that brilliant smile once more and flipped his sunglasses above his head to push his hair back, allowing for his bright blue eyes to be on full display. Everything about him was enthralling.

"Why hello, sir. I do believe that I had my hands on Kafka first." You grinned.

"Hm...but it seems to me that you've already read this one. Therefore, I feel like I deserve the book more," He gently pulled the book off the shelf and held it out to you, "Or a pretty lady could read it to me and I'd call it a truce."

"Something like that could be arranged." You added the book to your small stack in your hands as you walked back up the stairs to pay for them. You insisted on paying for Brad's too, despite the fight he put up against you doing so.

You won, of course.

Placing your books into small paper bags, the shop owner printed out your receipt and handed you the items with a knowing glance. "You're a collector." He said with an eyebrow raise.

"Yes! How did you know?" You asked, now intrigued by what this man had to say.

He smirked. "All of them have outrageous stains and writing on the inside. My wife and I enjoy collecting the outcasts too."

You felt an admiration burning in your chest. It was nice to meet someone who also had an appreciation for things like this.

After you had finished at the desk, Brad helped to unchain the bikes. He had a determined look on his face as he busied himself with the task at hand, allowing for your leisure time to be spent searching for the cigarettes in his jacket you were wearing. You knew he always had a pack on him, yet you couldn't seem to find it anywhere in any of his pockets.

"Looking for this?" Your husband asks you, holding out his half-empty pack which he presumably took out from his back pocket.

"Why, yes actually." You go to reach for one of the cancer sticks, but he pulls it back from you.

"These things'll kill you, you know. You should really quit." He said with a teasing laugh.

"Oh yeah? And you're going to quit anytime soon?" You rebutted, knowing you were already winning this mini battle against him. Brad smoked way too much, for him to tell you to stop was complete ridiculousness.

"Fine, you got me." He pulls out a lighter and lights the end of both your stick and his, both of you deciding to take your drags while sitting outside the bookstore on the curb. Brad's cardigan was pooling below his waist now that he untucked it from his jeans, and you watched as he exhaled the smoke ever so delicately. Brad doing anything was graceful, but nothing compared to the way he smoked. The cylindrical spirals of grey coming from the edges of his mouth reaching up towards the sky and creating pretty patterns.

After a time, he sighed and looked in your direction. You were currently staring across the road, lost in your thoughts. Your face was pressed into a hard gaze as you pondered over whatever was going on in your pretty little mind; completely oblivious to your husband's staring. Brad felt his heart lurch ever so slightly as he watched you finish your cigarette and stomp on it to put out the burning embers.

"Ready to go?" You asked, motioning towards the bikes.

"Yeah."

Brad didn't say it in that moment, but he went over the reasons he married you in his head. The way you looked at him when he supposedly wasn't paying attention was one of them. He was so in love with you, he would buy you all the libraries in the world and had offered to do so. However, the little library full of misshapen and ragged books you had at home was perfect enough for the two of you.

He couldn't wait to continue these bike rides and cigarette stops all over the world.

Heyo Panko Shrimps!

I have a Moon-Jo fanfic cooking up in the drafts but besides from that, should I post a part two for my Hannibal fic Macabre ?

💛🦐

I can't risk it 😥

Terry + dino nuggies + horror movies = perfection

-🦤

"Can We Enjoy Our Nuggets Without the Threat of Death in the Background?"

Kang Taehyun X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, play fighting, death of chicken dinosaurs ⚠️

Hope you enjoy this babe, I made it with love 💛

The dino nuggets in the back of the freezer taunted you from afar. The familiar green and yellow colors of the rectangular box called out to you in a way that was reminiscent of a child wanting formula. This was a need, not a want. This wasn't just a desire, it was addiction.

Pushing aside the other contents of the chilled box, you reach and reach and reach in an attempt to grab the delicious looking dinosaurs with their faces graphically printed on their nugget bodies. Your fingers just barely graze the box when suddenly you are violently shoved aside and your body makes contact with the tile of the kitchen.

"Taehyun, what the literal fuck." You exclaim, more pissed off than anything else. You were so close you could taste the wonderful exquisiteness of the ketchup colliding with the Jurassic treats.

"I saw you." He says, sauntering over to you wearing nothing but galaxy printed boxers and a Ramones T-shirt that was too big for his midsection. "You were trying to cook the nuggets without me."

The statement was true. They had been Taehyun's treats that he picked up from the grocery store the night before; his eyes bright and wild and hair wet from running in the rain, all in an attempt to buy a bottle of champagne but instead found the dinosaurs. He planted them directly on the kitchen counter and looked you dead in the eyes. "If you touch these," he said, waving the box of goodies in the air, "I will jump off the roof faster than the pig with wings in the baked beans commercial."

Cut to him finding you guilty, caught red-handed.

"I would never do such a thing." You looked back at the counter and he stepped in front of the box, concealing the happy little dinosaurs from your view. This made you angry and you prepared yourself for a fist fight. This was the modern day Hunger Games and you would be Katniss Everdeen shooting Taehyun with your arrows, watching as he cried while you ate them. This was your world and he was just living in it. He had to be reminded.

Lunging for his side of the counter, you wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze as hard as you can while reaching for the dinos. Stepping on both of his feet, you feel the coolness of the box graze your fingertips once more before you're thrown back onto the floor with him on top of you, wrestling you down so that you can't have them. "I told you, they're mine!" He says, tickling your sides until you "give up" and call a truce. Getting off of you, he makes his way back to his spot but you manage to jump and tackle him from behind, grabbing the box out of his hands and triumphantly holding them above your head. He sinks to his knees.

"(Y/N). Please please please let me have them. I need them. I really truly do."

You thought for a moment before a lightbulb turned on in your head. "Alright," you said, teasing him with the dinos, "I'll allow you to share them with me on one condition."

Perking up, Taehyun wipes his fake tears with his hands and looks up at you will wide eyes. "What?! I'll do anything!"

You smiled. "You have to watch a scary movie with me."

Taehyun screams and jumps up off the floor and onto the counter on all fours, staring at you as though you just shot a puppy. Pulling on his hair with his hands, he looks like a maniac. "No no no no no you know I hate scary movies." He says in between harsh gasps and fake sobs.

You pull out a plate with a duck on it and start to evenly space the frozen foods, putting them into the microwave and letting them cook. Taehyun is still on the counter and eyeing you as though you're a supervillain. Watching him to make sure he doesn't try anything funny, you wait until you hear the beep of the machine signalling that your food was done. Taking it out and watching the nuggets steam was like watching the most beautiful waterfall. Dino nuggets most definitely had to be one of the seven wonders of the world, you were sure.

Handing Taehyun one nugget, you watch him scarf the entire thing down hot without ketchup. "I want more." He says, holding out his hand expecting you to place another nugget in his palm.

"Ah ah ah," you say, guarding the unsuspecting dinos with your life, "Scary movie. Remember?"

....

Looking through your collection of horror movies in your fancy glass cabinet, you search for one that Tae would never agree to watching unless it was for food. You had the basics, The Conjuring, The Shining, Sinister, but nothing was standing out to you in particular. Your boyfriend would find every single one of them absolutely terrifying, but you wanted to find one that would really get under his skin.

And what better movie to get under the skin than Saw?

Taehyun slowly walked into the living room, blanket already wrapped around his entire body and head. Only his eyes were seen through the heavy duty sheets and they looked horrified. A singular lock of hair peeked out from said blanket and swayed with the wind when your boyfriend sat down on the soft cushions of the couch. His eyebrows were furrowed as he pouted, probably due to the fact that you had forced him into this if he wanted to savor his dino nuggets.

"Okay Tae Tae," you said, placing the disc into the DVD player and watching it load on the screen, "You're gonna hate this." Smiling, you plop down on the couch next to him and move in so that you share the warmth of his blanket. He wraps it around you and huddles against you in fear as he prepared himself for the movie you put on.

"Saw? Really?"

"Shhh just enjoy it."

A couple of moments pass before you decide to look up at Taehyun who was staring at the screen with the same intensity as when you had first stolen his nuggets. His mouth was slightly agape and his lips were turned downwards in pure horror. However, the only part of the movie that he had seen so far was the opening credits.

"Tae?" You ask, trying to get his attention. "Tae?"

His head turns to meet your gaze and his expression of pure terror never leaves his face. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

He gulps and watches the opening of the first scene before he passes out. His head hits the back of the couch and on impact, a burst of red flies from his head behind him onto the wall. Screaming, you throw back the blanket and watch in horror as your boyfriend's blood dripped from the wall where it had hit.

"Taehyun!" You screamed again, not knowing what to do. Just then, he lifted his head up with a grin on his face. He no longer seemed scared but instead triumphant as he reached for a dino nugget and dipped it in the blood by his head.

"It's ketchup. Payback from earlier." He says, lifting up his nugget like a chalice of the finest wine as if to propose a toast to your losing and eats it. Meanwhile, you were still freaking out in the corner.

"You are such an asshole." You glare at him with the most hateful expression you could muster.

He shrugged his shoulders and took another nugget off the plate, dipping it into the ketchup once more, only this time he used what had spurt out onto the wall. "You may have won the battle but you didn't win the war, (Y/N)."

Sighing, you go to sit back next to him on the couch. "Touche." You snuggle back up into him and the two of you continue to watch the movie in peace. Taehyun leans in for a kiss and smiles at you.

"I'm sorry, that was mean." He looks at you with all the love in his heart and you instantly forgive him. You just want to put him in his place again.

"Yeah almost as mean as this." You say, popping the last flavorful dinosaur into your mouth and swallowing it.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

"You may have won the battle, but you didn't win the war Taehyun." You say, laughing at his outburst.

What type of fics are your favorite to write?

Oooh this is a hard one! A lot of my fics are based on my personal experiences with certain events, and I just happen to write the characters into settings I've dealt with while also keeping it pertaining to their storylines. However, I would definitely say my favorite type would be fluff. Just the snuggly lovey stuff with a couple of dad jokes here and there.

As for characters, it depends on whatever I'm into! As of recent, I've been watching Bullet Train a lot so I've written for Tangerine and Ladybug, but I'm sure it'll change and I'll go on a spree for writing someone else soon.

Thank you for asking!! I hope you have the most wonderful day!

💛🦐

Tehehehhe thanks for tagging me!!!

H - Highway To Heaven (NCT)

O - Obsession (EXO)

B - Bambi (Baekhyun)

I - I Wait (Day 6)

S - SSICK (Stray Kids)

F - Famous (Taemin)

A - Alligator (Monsta X)

V - VENI VIDI VICI (CRAVITY)

O - O Sole MiO (SF9)

R - Ring Ring (Rocket Punch)

I - I Hate You (WOODZ)

T - The Eye (INFINITE)

E - Embarrassed (BTS)

S - Sorry, Sorry (SUPER JUNIOR)

P - Poison (PINK FANTASY)

R - RED (The Rose)

I - Inside Out (NU'EST)

T - Tears Of Chaos (E'LAST)

E - Error (VIXX)

C - COUP D'ETAT (G-DRAGON)

A - ASURABALBALTA (T1419)

N - NOT BY THE MOON (GOT7)

💛🦐

tagging: @taehyung-bw @static-butterfly @keynie @heybaetae @jincorrectbts @leggomylino @chimchimsauce and anyone else who wants to join! 💛💛

Rules: make a new post and spell out your URL with song titles, (then tag as many people as there are letters in your URL - Optional)

New rule: Don’t use an artist more than once

Wasn't tagged, but wanted to do it.

M - 'Most of All' - Brandi Carlile

A - 'Annies Song' - John Denver

K - 'Keep me in your heart' - The Wailin' Jennies

E - 'Evermore' - Dan Stevens

M - 'Million Reasons' - Lady Gaga

E - 'Easy Silence' - The Chicks

I - 'I Like it Heavy' - Halestorm

M - 'Misbelieving' - Allie X

A - 'A Million Dreams' - P!nk

G - 'Gravity' - Sara Bareilles

I - 'Immigrant Song' - Led Zepplin

N - 'Never Enough' - Loren Allred

E - 'Express' - Christina Aguilera

--

Tags (no pressure): @spuffyfan394, @cosplayingwitch, @magravenwrites, @bwemph, @gaitwae, @imaginefandoms, @imaginesfire, @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd, @trashywritestrash, @whatif-animagineblog - and open tag for whoever wants to do it!

xx

I think that what makes Steve and Eddie’s dynamic so immediately iconic and delightful, is that they have nothing in common except Dustin.

Like, we see them trying to bond a few times, and they are STRUGGLING because they have absolutely no common interest. Whenever they talk, we get gems like Eddie quoting the lord of the rings or mentioning Ozzy to a very confused Steve. They both think that the other is cool but they can’t SAY IT because they basically speak two different languages. It’s a nerd/goth and jock/prep desperately attempting communication, it’s awkwardly wholesome in the best way.

But THEN as soon as it’s about DUSTIN, these two just fucking click and shift full soulmates mode. Dustin does something a little weird or vaguely annoying, and suddenly Steve and Eddie get possessed by an old married couple that has been together for 35 years but also divorced 7 times and keep getting back together to raise their son. Dustin will just breathe, and suddenly Steve "the king" Harrington and Eddie "the freak" Munson are fucking drift compatible out nowhere like "this kid needs to keep his ego in check" "IT’S HIS TONE RIGHT???" or "Henderson you are a butthead" "oh I conclure" or even "Henderson is not possessed is he?" "Oh no he is just deranged"

Whether it’s platonic or romantic, otp or brotp, it’s just think that it’s objectively the most hilarious concept of all time and I want to see more of it in Volume 2 and season 5.