reflective jackets

anonymous asked:

Andrew and Neil go to an amusement park where Neil gets lost and Andrew *definitely does not* panic and worry, please! You are so amazing!

So like I kind of kept to the prompt??? Amusement park became State Fair, and Andrew and Neil lowkey became all the Foxes??? I’m sorry???

The parking area is already filled to the brim when they arrive. Andrew is pretty sure this doesn’t even count as a parking lot; the large field weighed down by rows upon rows of cars. There are numerous people in reflective yellow jackets using neon orange cones to direct traffic, and Andrew follows the line of cars to the next available spot. Matt’s truck pulls in beside the Maserati, and everyone climbs out, smiles out and wide in anticipation. Families and groups of teens alike weave their way through the cars around them, their chatter and laughter carrying on the breeze. It’s almost enough to drown out the screams and music coming from the Fair.

Despite it only being early October, the air has a chill to it with the sun gone, so the Foxes pull on hoodies and jackets before heading towards the epicentre of excitement. The sky is a pale indigo above their heads, a view stars blotching the inky surface, but the bright flashing lights up ahead are quick to wash them out. With each step closer, the scent of fried dough and spun sugar gets stronger, and seems to fuel the buzz reverberating through the group.

It doesn’t take long to get tickets, and then they’re moving through the entrance gate into the fairgrounds. The lights and sounds are even worse in the mix of things. A cacophony of chaos that grates on Andrew’s nerves and twinges at his temples like the start of a headache. He briefly wonders why he even agreed to come to the State Fair, but he finds he minds a little less when he takes in Neil’s expression. The striker’s face is bright, and his eyes are wide. The start of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he whips his head around to take everything in.

“Let me guess,” Andrew starts. “You’ve never been to a State Fair before.”

“Actually, I have,” Neil says. “Crowds like these are a great way to lose someone who’s chasing you.”

“Oh my god; that’s so sad,” Matt chimes in. “You need the full Fair experience, Neil! We’ll start with the Tilt-a-Whirl.”

“The tilt a what?”

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Things I associate with NCT 127

Taeil: Loving gazes, late night kisses, hanging lights, rubbing circles in skin, flannel, the smell of brewed coffee, quotes, hickeys, messy blankets in the morning, t.v. static, vhs tapes, sneaking out at night, old school movies, bruises, garage bands, acid wash jeans, tie dye, black and white images. 

Taeyong: Leather bracelets, veins, denim jackets, metal trinkets, chokers, rolled up sleeves, patches, aviators, graphic tees, walks in the dark, black nails, candle lit rooms, ripped jeans, tattoos, abandoned carnivals, over grown parks, empty museums, dead trees, graffiti, train yards, bruises. 

Yuta: Sitting beside the lake, skipping stones, lost gazes, waterfalls, wicker chairs, ages books, sitting on the pier, being alone in the forest, chills down your spine, moleskine, rusted lockets, cross hatching, scribbles in notebooks,  vacant fields of flowers, type writers, polaroids, mist.

Jaehyun: Wallet chains, doc martens, leather cord, reflections, patchy jackets, silver rings, leather jackets, the sound of rain, red wine, intense gazes, ink pens, calligraphy, cassette tapes, smoke, sitting in the grass, rosary beads, black lace, over sized t-shirts, messy hair in the morning, watching the sun set.

WinWin: Floral patterns, the night breeze from a roof top, parking garages,  goodnight kisses, turtle necks, lemonade on a hot summer day, scarves in the winter, morning walks, the feeling of grass between your toes, long sleeves, cold hands, the city skyline, traveling to new places, a busy city at night, dates at coffee shops.

Mark: Paisley, suspenders, backpacking around the world, crystals/gem stones, brush strokes, melting candles, sitting under trees, writing lyrics, brush strokes, messy paint swatches, dream catchers, the smell of grapes, grand father clocks, hourglasses, lazy hugs, smooth concrete.

Haechan: Hammocks, afternoons at the pier, getting lost in the forest, broaches, the feeling of sand between your toes, the sea breeze, throw pillows, knit sweaters, blurred images, ankle bracelets, summer love, watching the sun set, potted plants, palm trees, cloud gazing, pine needles, sunlight slipping through curtains, feathers.

misunderstandings [alex summers]

a/n: and here i am, multiple fics on the go, probably crying into my orange juice as you read this very sentence. this is from an anon for alex + “so, are you guys dating or?” @shayara ; i guess enjoy? also, @phoenixejean i know you love alex and kiah ( @erwrecklensherr ) we’ve established you’re a hoe for alex so have fun with this :)

warnings: probably swearing, alex a flustered fucking dork

“Alex, when I finish this sentence, feel free to murder me so that I can end this essay on a high.”

“C'mon doll, why would I murder you? Then I wouldn’t get to see your beautiful face!”

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out at him. Ororo throws herself onto the sofa opposite, followed by Jubilee, her bright yellow jacket reflecting the light into your eyes. You hold your arm over your eyes, making a little sound of discomfort. Alex laughs at your wrinkled up nose, missing the smirk Ororo sends at Jubilee, and the mouthed ‘I’m winning the bet’ that follows it.


“You mutated piece of shit!”

The angry shout comes as you leave the supermarket with Kurt, and Alex barely has time to mutter ‘fuck’ before you’ve dropped the shopping bags you were holding and are making your way towards the culprit, cracking your knuckles.

“You want to say that again?”

The guy spits at your feet, and you smile at him.

“Well, you’ve just sealed your fate.”

He swings at you but you’re quicker and you dodge, clicking your fingers. A second later, there’s fire in your palm, and you corner him against his car.

“You want to be a dick, fine, but remember there’s people like me out here to make you face the consequences.”

You drag a flame across the driver’s door as a warning, and he winces at the mark it leaves.

When you get back, Kurt mutters a thank you and Alex slings his arm around you shoulder, telling you not be so impulsive while a small smile graces his lips. What can he say?

He would do the same in a heartbeat for you.


“So, are you guys dating, or?”

The question comes on a Saturday night, when you and Alex are on the sofa, watching a stupid tv show. Peter and Scott are lying on another sofa, Scott seemingly half asleep until the question is asked.


“You two, are you dating yet or not?”

“Uh, not?”

Alex faces falls a little at your answer, but he quickly regains his composure. You’ve noticed though, and he silently damns your ex-spy instincts.

“You okay?”

“Just peachy,” he says, but it’s possibly the worst lie he’s ever told, and you can tell.

“It’s just, well, maybe i would like us to be dating. I, uh, well,” and he’s fumbling for words and what is he supposed to say when you’re looking at him like that.

So he doesn’t say anything, and he forgets that Peter is looking on, grinning like an idiot and that the smirk on Scott’s face is seemingly permanent and instead he kisses you.

He kisses you, insistent and warm, one hand on your hip and you reach down and intertwine your fingers with his other hand, moving your spare hand to his curl in the hair at the nape of his neck.

You’re both too distracted to realise that Peter and Scott are leaving the room, sniggering loudly behind their palms.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” Alex says between kisses, and you slide your hands up his shirt and he moans softly into your mouth.

“Me too,” you whisper, “me too.”