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crack_van2009-08-13 09:43 pm
ficwize.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-08-13 09:43 pm
Entry tags:
Wild Blue Yonder by Phoenix Cubed (PG)
Title: Wild Blue Yonder
Fandom: DBZ
Pairing: Goku/Chi-chi
Author on LJ: Not sure
Author Website: Her FF Page
Why this must be read: I confess, Gohan is the reason I got sucked into this series in the first place, and the Cell saga is still my favorite. Chi-chi gets a bad rap in fanfiction a lot, but this story gives her a depth and realism that makes her seem sympathetic.
Another timer sounds the alarm. The crepes are done. I shovel them off the baking sheet onto the wire cooling rack. Gray gravy leaks from the browning pastry folds, I can smell the mushrooms, and so can my boys.
“Crepes! Oh boy, Mom! Are they ready?”
Small yet slender fingers sneak around my skirt and the hem of my apron; before I can voice a warning, one hot pastry is burning the mouth of a careless ten year old.
“Gohan!” I scold, “watch yourself, they’re still—“
“Oh! Oh! Hot! Mom! Hot!” My blonde baby boy hops skips and jumps in surprise, waving a hand in front of his mouth and sucking in cool air for all he’s worth, all while refusing to drop the food. Instead he runs to the fridge, pulls the handle—if he yanks the door off one more time—and disappears behind the egg white door, yellow spikes of hair sticking up over the top, waving like a wheat field in a windstorm as he frantically searches for the milk. I hear guzzling noises.
“Young man, if you’re drinking out of the container again, your bottom will be the next thing in my skillet! Gohan! Are you listening to me?”<./i>
Wild Blue Yonder
Fandom: DBZ
Pairing: Goku/Chi-chi
Author on LJ: Not sure
Author Website: Her FF Page
Why this must be read: I confess, Gohan is the reason I got sucked into this series in the first place, and the Cell saga is still my favorite. Chi-chi gets a bad rap in fanfiction a lot, but this story gives her a depth and realism that makes her seem sympathetic.
Another timer sounds the alarm. The crepes are done. I shovel them off the baking sheet onto the wire cooling rack. Gray gravy leaks from the browning pastry folds, I can smell the mushrooms, and so can my boys.
“Crepes! Oh boy, Mom! Are they ready?”
Small yet slender fingers sneak around my skirt and the hem of my apron; before I can voice a warning, one hot pastry is burning the mouth of a careless ten year old.
“Gohan!” I scold, “watch yourself, they’re still—“
“Oh! Oh! Hot! Mom! Hot!” My blonde baby boy hops skips and jumps in surprise, waving a hand in front of his mouth and sucking in cool air for all he’s worth, all while refusing to drop the food. Instead he runs to the fridge, pulls the handle—if he yanks the door off one more time—and disappears behind the egg white door, yellow spikes of hair sticking up over the top, waving like a wheat field in a windstorm as he frantically searches for the milk. I hear guzzling noises.
“Young man, if you’re drinking out of the container again, your bottom will be the next thing in my skillet! Gohan! Are you listening to me?”<./i>
Wild Blue Yonder