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orangeoctopi7 · 3 years

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It’s Fine (It’s not fine)

@forduary week 1 is Hurt/Comfort. The one’s definitely more on the hurt side of things, but I promise there’s some comfort at the end!

Stanford Pines is six years old. He’s in his bedroom, reading quietly. He’s just getting to the climax of the adventure story he’s reading when his brother Stanley crashes into the room. It wouldn't normally be a problem, Ford is really good at tuning out the world around him while he reads, but Stan is complaining loudly.

“I’m booooooard!” The boy moans, grabbing onto the post of their bunk-bed and dangling off it dramatically.

“Whaddaya want me to do about it?” Ford asks in irritation, not looking up from his book.

“Let’s go play on the beach! Or go to the comic store! Or… or something!” Stan suggests. “Anything but just sit around here doin’ nothin’!”

It was a hot summer afternoon. Ford didn’t want to go down to the beach or the comic store when he knew for certain anywhere they went today was bound to be crowded with people. He just wanted to sit and read in his room and enjoy some time to himself.

“Can’t you go by yourself?”

“Are you kiddin’? Ma would throw a fit!”

Ford heaves a long-suffering sigh, places a bookmark to hold his place, and snaps his book shut before thumping it down on his bed.

“Well we don’t hafta go if ya don’t wanna.” Stan says lamely.

“It’s fine.” Ford assures him.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is ten years old. He’s at recess, trying to lie low. Stan got held back for the whole half-hour because he’d been caught trying to sneak the class pet, a newt, into his backpack. This of course leaves Ford at the mercy of Crampelter and his thugs, who have little to no mercy on any given day.

“C’mon freak, fight back!” The towheaded bully taunts him, holding Ford back by the forehead as he tries to struggle past the blocking arm for his backpack, held just out of reach. “I know I seen you taking boxing lessons back at Mel’s Gym!”

“It’s ‘I saw’ or ‘I have seen’, and just b‘cuz I’m taking lessons doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to pick a fight I know I can’t win!” Ford protests.

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” Crampelter scoffs, before grabbing onto one of Ford’s hands while he continues to reach vainly for his backpack. “But y’know what does sound fun?”

“Let go of me!”

“Seeing how flexible your extra fingers are!” Crampelter starts to push Ford’s pinky finger back with his thumb, stretching it to its limit.

“Stop it! That hurts!”

But Crampelter just keeps pushing and pushing until Ford is sure some tendons are going to pop, when a shrill whistle echoes across the playground.

“Hey! Crampelter! Drop the freak!” The teacher on recess watch commands.

The bully finally lets go, and Ford stumbles to the ground, holding his injured hand close to his body.

“Here, lemme look at that.” the teacher pulls Ford’s hand away to check it. “Eh, ‘snot bleeding or broken, you’re fine.”

As they walk back from school that afternoon, Stan rants over and over that Crampelter Will Not Get Away With This, plotting various methods of revenge, most of them too fanciful to ever come to fruition.

Ford is silent the whole time, his gaze turned towards his shoes.

“Hey.” Stan suddenly stops his ranting and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“It’s fine.” Ford mumbles.

“I promise I’ll try not to get held in for recess again.”

“I said it’s fine.” Ford assures him, knowing that hoping Stan won’t get held back from recess again is like hoping it won’t snow in January. Technically possible, but highly unlikely.

* * *

Stanford Pines is fourteen years old. He’s a freshman in highschool, and he and his brother are in detention after he was caught letting Stan look off his algebra test.

It’s not that Ford has anything against sharing his answers with his brother. It’s not like he has any sort of moral high-ground here. It’s just that Stan is always so carelessly obvious about it!

“I said I was sorry, alright!” Stan hisses at him, trying not to draw the teacher’s attention.

“We’re not in middle school anymore, these things actually go on our record now!” Ford hisses back. “You have to be more careful!”

“Well maybe if you would actually slip me your paper instead of making me crane my neck over your desk! Nobody’s gonna notice if you hand your test in two minutes before everyone else instead of five!”

“That’d be even more obvious! Maybe if you wore your glasses for once!”

“Maybe I would, if you could hold your own in a fight!”

“What does that even have to do with anything!?”

“You don’t wear glasses in a fight, genius! That’s just asking for them to get broken! And I know I’m always having to step in and save your skin, so why would I even bother wearing them in the first place?”

“Hey!” The teacher overseeing detention snaps at them. “No talking!”

The boys shut their yapps and go back to studying, or at least pretending to study.

“I’m sorry.” Stan murmurs, once he’s sure the teacher is no longer paying attention to them.

“It’s fine.” Ford grunts back.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He is begrudgingly walking down to the beach with his brother.

“C’mon Ford, it’s October, there’s only a few more days of weather nice enough to work on her left! And the dumb science fair isn’t until April!”

“I still have so much research to do before I can even start!” Ford complains. “Not to mention procuring parts, testing different models--”

“That all sounds like stuff you can do once it gets cold.”

“I should be in the building phase by then!”

“Alright, look,” Stan jabs a finger in his brother’s direction. “If you wanna spend the last few warm days of the year cooped up in the library, that’s your problem. But I’m gonna enjoy the sunshine and the beach, and finish fixin’ up the Stan’o’war. We’re so close, I can practically taste the treasure and babes!”

“...Fine.” Ford grumbles.

“No, no. You go do your nerd thing. I’ll put the finishing touches on this thing we’ve been working on together since we were pipsqueaks.”

“I said it’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He’s just come back from the most humiliating moment of his life (thus far). He confronts his brother, the offending evidence crinkling in his clenched fist. Stan tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal. Like he expects his brother to say It’s Fine.

It is most definitely not fine.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 20 years old. He’s showing his new roommate around their humble apartment.

“I really ‘preciate this, Stanford.” Fiddleford McGucket tells him for the sixth time that day. “Most folks wouldn’t offer to put their TA up in their apartment, ‘specially not when you’re lucky ‘nough to get yer own place!”

“Well, I’ll be starting the Doctorate program myself, next year! That makes us equals, in my mind.” Ford says proudly. “And I’m happy for the company! The only reason I have the apartment to myself is because my last roommate and I parted over… differences.”

“Heh, you too, eh?” McGucket chuckles. “Least you weren’t kicked out, like I was!”

“Why were you kicked out?”

“Oh, several reasons. I think the robot in the kitchen was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Ford laughs. “Well, I for one would love to have a robot that does our dishes and cleans the counters.”

McGucket grins and leans against the table.. “See, I knew we’d make great roommates!”

Unfortunately, McGucket’s leaning is more than the wobbly table can take, and it tips over on its side, scattering textbooks and papers everywhere. The two friends begin cleaning up the mess, McGucket apologizing profusely.

They’ve almost finished putting everything back onto the table when Fiddleford picks up an old photo of two little boys standing before a derelict little boat.

“Well bless my soul! Is this you, Ford?”

Ford’s heart skips a beat. He hadn’t realized he left that photo lying on the table!

“Ah, yes, that’s me. That was the day I decided I wanted to be a researcher--”

“And lookit this little fellah next to ya!” Fiddleford interrupts Ford’s soliloquy. “He looks just like you! I can’t believe I’ve known you for three years, and you never told me you had a twin!”

“Er… it just-- it never came up.”

“How in tarnation does yer own twin brother never come up?” Fiddleford asks incredulously. “So, what’s his name?”

“Stanley and I are not on speaking terms.” Ford says stiffly. “I haven’t spoken to him since I was a teenager.”

A multitude of expressions dance across Fiddleford’s face before Ford can hope to interpret any of them. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He finally says.

“It’s fine.” Ford says tersely, snatching the photo back.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 21 years old. He’s trying to get a good night sleep before his first dissertation tomorrow.

Trying being the operative word.

The past year rooming with Fiddleford McGucket has been great, for the most part. Ford loves spending time with an intellectual equal. McGucket accepts all of Ford’s idiosyncrasies, and Ford accepts all those of his friend.

Well, almost all of them.

It didn’t take long after they started rooming together for Ford to realize one of the several reasons McGucket had been evicted from his last apartment had nothing to do with his penchant for robotics, and everything to do with his penchant for late-night banjo playing. As much as it cut into Ford’s sleep schedule, he didn’t have the heart to complain to his roommate about it. He knew he had plenty of his own bad habits that were difficult to deal with, like his coffee addiction, his antisocial behavior, his tendency to start a project and just leave it laying wherever he was around the apartment, and his few dozen subscriptions to cryptozoological newsletters.

The digital clock on Ford’s bedside table reads 2:20 AM when the music finally, thankfully stops. He sighs and turns over in his bed, hoping to finally fall asleep.

When he wakes in the morning, groggy as a hung-over sailor, Fiddleford at least has the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, did I keep ya up last night? I kinda got lost in the music an’ lost track of time.”

“It’s fine.” Ford mutters as he pours himself a large mug of the strongest coffee he can brew. This is the first roommate he’s gotten along with since… since he started college. He can put up with this.

“Well, if’n ya need me to, I can start headin’ up to the practice rooms in the assembly hall fer my jam sessions--”

“It’s fine.”

* * *

Stanford Pines is 31 years old. He’s spreading thick globs of slimy aloe vera on his hands. He’s been letting his muse take control of his body while he sleeps for about a week now. Bill says he’s not used to the limits of a physical human body. He’s injured Ford’s body just about every night so far, but last night, when he picked up the hot coffee pot by the pot instead of by the handle, was the worst by far.

“This keeps on happening, Bill. You need to be more careful.” He gently chides his muse.

“WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT’D HAPPEN? WHY DIDN’T THE IDIOT WHO DESIGNED THAT THING INSULATE THE WHOLE CONTAINER INSTEAD OF JUST THE HANDLE? YOU COULD DESIGN A COFFEE POT WAY MORE EFFICIENT THAN THAT!”

Ford smiles, blushing. “Perhaps I’ll get around to modifying it someday. But for now, as I was saying, could you please be more careful with my body at night?”

“HEY, YOU’RE ACTUALLY LUCKY THIS HAPPENED. IF I HADN’T DROPPED THAT POT, I WOULD’VE TRIED DRINKING IT THE SAME WAY I DO IN MY NORMAL FORM, AND THEN YOU’D PROBABLY BE BLIND. SO WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT, YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!”

Ford pales. “Er, perhaps I should help you practice using my body first, just to decrease the risk of that sort of thing.”

“OH, I’M SORRY! DO YOU NOT WANT MY HELP? DO YOU NOT WANT TO ACHIEVE GREATNESS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE?”

“No! No of course not! That’s not what I meant!”

“DON’T FORGET, I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU, SIXER! I’M AN AGELESS BEING OF PURE ENERGY! THE ONLY REASON I’M HELPING YOU SPEED UP THE PROCESS ON BUILDING THE PORTAL IS BECAUSE I KNOW HOW PATHETICALLY SHORT YOUR MORTAL LIFE IS. YOU’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO TRUST ME. OR ARE A FEW BUMPS AND BRUISES TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE?”

“Of course not! It’s fine! I’m fine!” Ford insists, finishing bandaging his burns.

* * *

Stanford Pines is… probably 45? He’s not quite sure. He’s lost track of time after traveling the multiverse for so long, especially after the Do-Over Dimension.

He’s making his way through a crowded alien market, hoping to find something he’ll be able to use in his Quantum Destabilizer, and also hoping not to be recognized by any bounty hunters. It’s annoying, having to wear a hood and goggles and mask everywhere he goes, but that’s just the way it has to be now.

It’s fine.

It’s only until he can complete the Quantum Destabilizer. After that… it didn’t matter what happened after that.

It’s fine.

* * *

Stanford Pines is 62 years old. He’s sitting in a hospital bed. Despite what that may suggest, his life has finally taken a turn for the better. Bill is gone, Weirdmaggeddon is over, and, miraculously, no one died. Stanley was going to be ok. The kids didn’t hate him. He’s achieved his goal of destroying Bill Cipher, and survived! He’s fine. They’re all incredibly, wonderfully, fine.

The doctor is giving his vitals one last check before officially discharging him from the hospital. It’s obvious that under normal circumstances, Ford would not be leaving the hospital any time soon, but thanks to the incredibly persistent insistence of his family, and the fact that the hospital is already absolutely filled to the brim with people who were injured during Weirdmageddon, and the fact that Stanford was instrumental in stopping Bill, they’re making an exception.

“Alright, you’re free to go!” The doctor finally says, handing his clipboard over to Ford to sign.

“Hooray!” Mabel cheers as her uncle signs his exit papers. “Now you’ll be able to help us set up for our birthday party!” She slings an arm around his neck to hug him, completely forgetting about the thin layer of bandages around his neck. Ford can’t suppress a yelp of pain.

Mabel reels back, hands flying to her mouth. “Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Ford forces a smile.

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“Mabel, really, it’s fine.”

“Ford.” Stan says firmly. Ford recognizes the expression on his face from the last few days. It’s the look he gets on his face when he’s remembering something painful. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He asks, confused.

“Saying ‘It’s fine’ when it’s not.”

Ford raises an eyebrow. “Stanley, it was just an accident. It really is fine.”

“Oh, yeah, of course this was…” Stan stammers, apparently coming back to the moment. “Mabel’s not-- this was just an honest mistake. But you say… uh, or at least, you used to say that a lot. Even when I could tell it wasn’t really fine. You gotta stop that.”

Ford shifted in his bed uncomfortably. “I’m just being polite.”

“There are ways to say things aren’t fine while still being polite.” Dipper points out.

Ford can feel himself flush. “I’m not good at that. I always come off as rude… or angry.” Saying it’s fine is just easier. He can just move on and forget about it. Control his emotions. Remove them from the equation for the time being, process them later when he’s alone, so nobody gets hurt.

Stan takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “You just gotta trust us, that we’re not gonna leave you just ‘cuz you get angry sometimes.”

Is that really what he’s been afraid of this whole time? That certainly seems to be a part of it, but not the whole. All the same, he does at least feel that he can trust his family. And he can try to be more honest with them when something is bothering him.

“I think I can do that.” he says as he gets up from the hospital bed, ready to go home.

#Gravity Falls #Stanford Pines #Fanfiction #My Writing

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Level Up, Chapter Twelve (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

AN: I can't even lie, the support on the last chapter and about this fic coming back made me so so incredibly happy. If you're still here and reading and leaving reviews, THANK you, I love hearing your thoughts and reactions and it honestly is why this chapter came pretty speedily. Enjoy and tell me your thoughts! Thank you writ for betaing <3

“How on earth are there seven thousand people watching this Instagram live? They got nothing better to do than talk to our sweaty asses?”

Monique’s eyebrows push together in disbelief as she looks at Vanessa’s phone screen, her eyes scanning the comments and it makes Vanessa snort, turning the camera towards her.

“It was your idea. I was perfectly content catching my breath and drinking some water now that class is done, or maybe, y’know, taking a shower,” Vanessa quips, her eyes flitting across the screen as she watches the comments fly by at light speed. “But you wanted to say hi to your ‘fans.’”

“They love me,” Monique tosses her braids over her shoulder, batting her eyes at the screen. “Right, guys?”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” Monet drops down beside Monique on the ground, popping her head in front of the screen. “I’m the one that everyone loves. I mean, how can you not?”

“Very easily.” Monique’s deadpan expression makes Vanessa burst into laughter, shaking her head.

“Y’all are nuts, I swear.”

It’s still strange to Vanessa, the way that this is her new normal. The fact that she can open Instagram and start a live and have an audience, the fact that she can post a picture and have famous people showering her with comments. It’s as if her world has tilted, little slivers of light that are shining upon new opportunities she would have otherwise never been able to see.

Like the fact that Detox has inked her a deal with fucking Fenty Beauty, of all companies, as a brand ambassador and now she has a shoot next week and Rihanna, Rihanna, knows who she is.

Rihanna.

It still doesn’t feel real. Hell, maybe Vanessa actually had hit her head real hard during her last match and the whole period since has simply been vivid dreams while she’s in a coma at this very second. Maybe that’s a more likely scenario.

“Hold up, pass me the phone, I got something to say,” Asia holds out her hands, wiggling her fingers, and Monique sticks out her tongue, handing the phone to her.

“You better be quick. I was having fun with the filters.”

Monet scoffs, nudging Monique’s shoulder as she looks over at Vanessa. “Forget about the filters for a sec. Where are we thinking for dinner? That’s the more important thing to focus on.”

Monique pauses. “Well, see, while I’m a fan of that burrito place we went to last week, it did give me major gas, and I don’t wanna smell up any subway cars on the ride home-”

“Nasty- ”

“There’s a such thing as too much information when the people on Instagram live can overhear you, doofus-”

“As I was saying,” Monique continues, her voice a little louder, “I’m down for some Korean food, maybe. Thoughts?”

Vanessa giggles as Monet shakes her head at Monique, who looks entirely nonplussed. “I’m good with Korean.”

As much as things have changed, from the brand deals and the sponsorships and the people on the street who do a double take when they recognize her, Vanessa’s glad that one thing hasn’t. Her friendships.

She’s not sure how she’d take it if Monet and Monique and Asia started to treat her differently, if maybe they’d think she was a sellout or hate her for having a meme that she has no control over. Her friends don’t pretend as if the whole thing hasn’t happened, either, which she’s sure would feel worse. Instead, they roll with everything, getting excited when Vanessa brings them free sponsored items that show up in her mailbox or scrolling through her Instagram comments and screenshotting the hilarious ones. It’s as if they’re all going through it together instead of just her, and honestly, it feels kind of nice.

The Korean restaurant three blocks away from the gym is one that they’ve frequented quite a bit over their weekly dinners, the booths cozy and a perfect bubble for the gossip they can’t necessarily have while in front of a punching bag. And sure, their last few dinners have revolved around Vanessa’s random celebrity encounters on social media, but today the spotlight is on Asia. Or rather, the grumpy manner in which she’s eating her gimbap.

“I said, there’s nothing wrong. I’d tell you if there was,” Asia mutters, shoving a bite into her mouth.

Vanessa exchanges a look with Monet and Monique. Asia’s the queen of denial, the one who draws attention to problems precisely by trying and failing to hide them. When Asia says that nothing’s wrong, she’s fibbing. Majorly.

“You wouldn’t tell us, you’d stew about it like you are now. So, there’s something wrong. Checkmate,” Monique raises an eyebrow, and Vanessa can’t help but turn towards Asia and nod because hey, Monique’s right.

Asia, though, sulks. “No, there isn’t.”

“Asia. Just tell us!” Monet waves her chopsticks in Asia’s face, who wrinkles her nose. “Did we do anything?”

“No, no, not you guys,” Asia sighs, sinking down lower in her seat. “Not you. You know I’d be quick to beef with y’all if you did something wrong.”

Monique nods. “She’s got a point.”

“Then what? Is it Kameron?” Vanessa asks, and Asia’s expression change is immediate, the way her eyes dart a telltale sign that Vanessa’s hit the nail on the head.

“What’d she do? Do we need to fight her? Though, to be fair, not sure if any of us could fight her. Bitch is ripped,” Monique takes a sip of her drink before she can dig herself in a bigger hole, and it makes Vanessa snort.

“That’s the thing, she didn’t do anything,” Asia scowls, as she grabs another bite. “Nothing at all.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?” Monet’s eyebrows furrow and Vanessa’s sure that she’s making the exact same expression, too.

“Yeah, what’s nothing?”

“Exactly nothing!” Asia huffs. “It’s been months of us just smacking and that’s all we do, aside from talking about the weather or maybe about Bachelor in Paradise ‘cause she watches that too, but...nothing. We haven’t even been on a date or anything. Nothing!”

“Oooh… ” The way Monique’s realization trails off is comical, and Vanessa has to press her lips together to keep from breaking into a laugh because she does feel for Asia, she really does.

Vanessa’s seen her and Kameron come out from the change rooms or from behind one of the punching bags more than once, the two of them looking ruffled from their little makeout sessions. And sure, Vanessa’s thought that the two of them had more going on. At least, more than what she’s seen with her own two eyes.

But evidently not.

“So you’re waiting for her to make the first move?” Monet gives Asia a look. “C’mon, girl. If you want to date her, then ask her out yourself. Stop waiting around if you want more.”

Monique leans forward. “Yeah, what’s that saying? Follow your destiny?”

“Never heard of any saying like that.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Vanessa clears her throat, trying to shoot Asia a reassuring look. “I think the point that these two are trying to make is that Kameron’s definitely into you, too. She wouldn’t be sticking around if she wasn’t. So what’s the worst that can happen if you ask her out? Maybe she’s shy, or something. Wants you to make the first move.”

Asia scoffs. “Shy? That bitch never stops talking once she starts. I swear, that quietness is totally a facade.”

“There you go,” Vanessa nods, smiling. “See? You know her enough that she’s comfortable around you to loosen up.”

“Doesn’t mean I can ask her out,” Asia mutters, letting out a sigh. “What if she says no? What if all she wants is just this casual not-even-a relationship? What if this is the most I’m gonna get without her running for the hills?”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Monet counters. “Hey, anyone who can swap spit with you for months on end has gotta be into it, right?”

“Nasty. Truly nasty,” Asia grumbles, but her posture is less slouched, less defeated. A little more hopeful.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to feel like she’s using her position of power over you, being a coach, and that’s why she’s letting you take the reins,” Monique ponders, as she lifts up a bite of noodles. “So that she doesn’t feel like she’s pressuring you into saying yes.”

“She really wouldn’t have to pressure Asia at all, she’s jumping at a chance to...” Monet trails off when Asia shoots her a narrow-eyed glare. “Sorry.”

Vanessa reaches out to pat Asia’s shoulder because she feels for her, she really does. “You have two choices, really. You either gotta be happy with this current situation you two have going on with all the smacking and breath mints, or you gotta be willing to take a risk for a higher reward. For a chance of more with her. Though it is a huge risk to take-”

Monet winces. “Vanj, ending on that is not encouraging-”

“-look what you can get out of it,” Vanessa finishes, leaning forward in her seat. “Are you really going to be happy with the absolute bare minimum that you’re getting with Kameron? Is it the way you want things to stay? ‘Cause it seems like Kameron is fine with it.”

“Alright there, Doctor Phil,” Asia grumbles, resting her cheek against her hand, “maybe I’ll talk to her. Maybe, though. I don’t do talking.”

“Tell that to my eardrums who had to listen to you complain about your leggings for twenty minutes straight in the change room yesterday,” Monique mutters, before letting out a squeal when Asia kicks her under the table. ” Ow !”

Asia does look lighter, though, as they head out of the restaurant and towards the subway, a spring in her step that definitely had not been there during dinner. Vanessa just hopes that it’s enough, that Kameron’s feeling the same and maybe Asia’s springboard won’t break from under her anytime soon.

It’s one thing to put yourself on the line, but to risk it all? Vanessa’s a romantic and all that, but she’s not sure that she’d be able to go through with something like that herself if it all went sour.

Brooke’s not really sure of what to make of the way that Kameron’s pacing in front of her closet, to the point where she’s about to wear a hole into the floor. That being said, it is fairly entertaining to watch.

“Y’know you haven’t even looked in your closet yet, right? Aren’t you supposed to be picking an outfit to wear for your d-”

“Don’t even finish that word,” Kameron bites out, holding up a finger and Brooke snorts before taking a sip of her water. “What am I even doing?”

“You’re going out with-”

“Ugh,” Kameron sighs, flopping down on her bed beside Brooke. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

Brooke turns on her side, facing Kameron. “Not if you keep dithering like this. You’re putting my anxious self to shame.”

Brooke gets it, though. The way that Kameron’s leg is bouncing and the way she’s unable to keep still are both sure signs that her mind is running at a hundred miles an hour. Considering what Kameron’s about to do this evening, Brooke can’t blame her.

“What if I can’t come up with anything to talk about? What if we just sit there awkwardly and twiddle our thumbs for an hour?” Kameron covers her face with her hands, letting out a groan.

“Is what why you only make out with her in a closet like two teenagers?”

“Shut up.”

“You gotta learn how to have big girl conversations sometime or the other, Kam.” Brooke pats Kameron’s shoulder. “You can talk to me just fine. You can talk to Asia too.”

“But you’re just you. Asia is… Asia,” Kameron mumbles, her voice uncharacteristically soft, and Brooke can’t help but let out a snort.

“Thanks for that non-compliment. Very sweet.”

“You know what I mean,” Kameron sighs. “What if she won’t like me when she gets to know me?”

“You’re a catch. Definitely not my kind of catch, but someone’s kind of catch. Maybe Asia’s,” Brooke dodges before Kameron can whap her with a pillow, grinning when she misses. “Besides, Asia already knows you. You two bicker throughout classes and definitely had things to talk about when driving back from the last tournament. Or was that arguing for the entire drive about the appropriate speed limit on the highway? I can’t remember.”

“You’re terrible at pep talks,” Kameron grumbles, rolling onto her back.

“But you’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Regardless,” Brooke announces, rolling off the bed and grabbing Kameron’s hands to pull her up, too, “we need to pick out an outfit for you. Can’t have you dazzling your star student and date for tonight in your current wine stained joggers. Unless Asia’s into that.”

Brooke gets Kameron into jeans and a tank that shows off her arms and tattoos and Kameron begins to perk up a little at least, looking at herself in the mirror, as Brooke presses an eyeliner pen into her hand.

“Go on. Do your makeup.”

“Do you think she’ll-”

“Yes she’ll find it hot, no you can’t make out with her instead of going on the date. It’ll mess up your lipstick.” Brooke leans back on her hands as she watches Kameron from the bed.

It makes Brooke think, though, as Kameron tousles her hair and slips on a leather jacket and stands a little taller. The fact that Kameron is going on a date with Asia. It’s no secret that the coaches at Brooke’s gym sometimes hook up with the students, despite the fact that it makes Brooke’s nose wrinkle sometimes. It’s relatively harmless, never turning into anything too dramatic. Kameron’s had her own share of them, but this feels...different.

Maybe because Kameron actually cares about impressing Asia, past just the shallow looks and first impressions. She likes Asia and wants Asia to like her too, for more than someone who holds a punching bag for her. Kameron’s toeing the line with Asia from something casual towards something that could be more, and to Brooke, the drop feels real high.

It’s not like they have that much to risk, not really. Sure, a shitty date could make classes awkward for the two of them, though no harm done in the long term. But then why is Brooke’s heart turning over in her chest at the mere idea of it?

She doesn’t know. But she’s going to make her friend look good for her date, that’s for damn sure.

“What shoes?” Kameron holds up a pair of boots in each hand, and Brooke squints as she looks between the two of them.

“The docs.”

“Not too stereotypical?”

Brooke grins. “Way stereotypical. But Asia’s going to eat it up.”

She feels like a mom helping her daughter get ready for her first date. Considering how few dates Kameron has actually been on, how little she takes the leap to get to know people past a shallow level, it somehow feels appropriate.

The sun is beginning to set as Brooke leaves Kameron’s apartment, painting pinks and purples that cast an iridescent glow along the buildings and reflect off of her watch. It’s her second favourite time of the day after sunrise - instead of charging her batteries the way that the oranges and yellows of the morning do, the sunset calms her system, slowing down the thoughts in her brain that go just a little too fast for her liking.

Her phone buzzes when she’s waiting at an intersection, and Vanessa’s name on her screen makes her face break into a smile without her even noticing at first. Maybe it’s just the way that Vanessa’s always so funny, never failing to make Brooke laugh with whatever she comes up with over text.

Vanessa: alert alert Asia is going out with Kam tonight!!!!! Monique and I wanna follow them and see where they go but Monet won’t let us lol

Brooke: LOL. That’s probably for the best. Let the two of them figure it out on their own, y’know?

Vanessa: boooo but that’s boring

Vanessa: Asia said they were going to play something called lob???

Vanessa: tf is that do u know

Vanessa: cuz I thought lob was a haircut

Brooke: Picture mini golf but with small balls that you throw. And without the golf clubs.

Vanessa: haha small balls

Brooke: Really?

Vanessa: IT’S FUNNY

Brooke: It’s a fun game. Went there once some years back and honestly, it feels harder than mini golf. Not that I was good at mini golf.

Vanessa: ok but I’m good at mini golf, does this mean i’d school ur ass if we played

Brooke: Well we’d have to find out and see, wouldn’t we?

Brooke watches the clock at the top of her screen pass by one minute, then another, and Vanessa hasn’t replied, wait, did Brooke say anything wrong? She reads their conversation through again and when her eyes hit the last text…

Wait.

No, it doesn’t sound like she’s asking Vanessa out. Because she’s not trying to. Vanessa’s not, they’re not…

Unless Vanessa’s taking it that way and wants to run for the hills and never speak to Brooke again-

Vanessa: ok lets square up then punk

Phew.

Brooke: Did you just call me a punk?

Vanessa: and what about it??

Brooke: That’s extra burpees for you next practice.

Vanessa: playing dirty!!

Brooke lets out a laugh but it’s more of a shaky exhale than anything else, running a hand through her hair as she walks past the front desk of her apartment building and pushes the button for the elevator. Getting into the elevator alone is a blessing, a chance for her to lean her head back against the mirrors and close her eyes for a second, trying to ignore the way her heart is beating in her chest.

It’s not that she hasn’t thought about it. Brooke has eyes, Vanessa’s beautiful but also now such a good friend but she’s also her student and they’re not like that, they’re not and Brooke doesn’t do relationships-

Ding.

The doors open and it’s almost a relief, in a way, because for a second Brooke gets to pretend that she can leave her worries in the elevator and not bring them into her apartment. But they sweep up on her shore as she unlocks the door, the way they always do when she wants to avoid thinking about something.

Maybe Brooke’s just in her head. Maybe Vanessa hadn’t noticed how her text could have sounded suggestive at all, hell, maybe Vanessa had just been in the bathroom or something and that’s why she hadn’t answered Brooke’s text right away. There’s a million different ways to interpret what had happened, and Brooke’s just working herself up at this point. She knows that.

Problem is, her brain doesn’t always listen.

Yvie’s frowning at a pineapple at the kitchen island when Brooke hangs up her coat and walks into their apartment.

“Not going so well?” Brooke raises an eyebrow at the bent knife in Yvie’s hand and the still-intact pineapple.

Yvie scratches her head. “I really should have just bought the pre-chopped pineapple. But all that wasted packaging, y’know? Figured this was better for the environment.”

“Not for the knife, though.”

“Sadly,” Yvie sighs, letting the knife roll onto the cutting board with a clatter. “I think there’s another one in the utensil drawer somewhere. I’m gonna try again.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you look up a tutorial first or something? Maybe there’s an easy way to do it.”

“And ruin the surprise and excitement? Nah,” Yvie shrugs, before grinning. “I’m gonna defeat this pineapple on my own.”

“Have fun with that. And let me know when you’re done so I can have some, too,” Brooke snorts, sitting down on one of the stools at the counter.

Yvie lets out a woo when she pulls another knife out of the drawer, waving it around. “Found it! Nice.”

Brooke leans back on her stool even though Yvie is a good six feet away, because she also remembers the time Yvie accidentally threw a pair of scissors across the room while animatedly telling a story complete with hand gestures. “Careful, Yves.”

“You’re fine. The pineapple is the only one getting murdered tonight.”

“Comforting.”

“Anyways,” Yvie starts, twirling the knife in her hands before lodging it in the side of the pineapple, letting out a curse under her breath. “Is Kameron ready for her date? Did you lend your fashion expertise and all that?”

Brooke shrugs. “Kameron has that part under control. She needed more cheerleading than anything else to actually get herself on the date without clamming up. You know how she gets sometimes.”

Yvie snickers as she yanks the knife back out of the pineapple. “You mean her complete lack of game whatsoever?”

“Yvie!” Brooke admonishes, rolling her eyes when Yvie grins. “I think she’ll be fine with this girl, though. From their constant bickering, they have enough chemistry to warm even Kam up a little bit.”

“Aww. I remember that stage,” Yvie’s face is almost nostalgic, her bottom lip pushing out. “Scarlet and I would always clash in class. Of course, I still found her hot when she was being stupid, but that’s beside the point.”

“And now the only thing you two argue about is about who’s going to hang up first.”

As nauseating as the two of them are, Brooke has to admit that Yvie and Scarlet are kind of cute. The way that they’re making it work despite the fact that they live far away from one another is sweet, as ‘temporary’ as Yvie says their distance is.

“God, I love that bitch,” Yvie’s eyes are almost dreamy, a jarring sight when combined with the knife she’s dangling from her grip. “Speaking of love, what’s the situation with your new lady like? Miss internet sensation herself?”

“What?” Brooke yelps, and the heat that floods to her cheeks is annoying, because from the smug grin on Yvie’s face, she definitely notices. “She’s not my lady. Jeez. I train her.”

“Yeah, yeah. Because that’s what the cuddling on the couch during Chicken Little night looked like. Completely.” Yvie’s look is knowing, too knowing, and it makes Brooke want to fold in on herself, sink under the counter.

“It’s not like that,” Brooke mutters, reaching a hand out for one of the pineapple cubes that Yvie’s successfully chopped and throwing it into her mouth, because it gives her more time to think of something to say.

It’s not. They’re not together, they’re not flirting for Pete’s sake, they’re...they’re Brooke and Vanessa. A washed up coach and an athlete with enough potential and talent and drive to have already made a splash on the boxing world without any professional fights under her belt. Vanessa’s special, more than she knows, and Brooke wants to be the one to nurture that and have a front row seat to her greatness. She’s more than a random person to flirt with and then ghost, she’s more than a sham of a relationship. She’s permanent. At least, Brooke wants her to be.

Desperately.

And not losing Vanessa in the future means that Brooke has to avoid doing anything to ruin whatever it is that they have between them.

“Okay. Tell that to the way you guys were snuggled together like two little puppies or something. It was kind of adorable.” Yvie pops a cube of pineapple into her own mouth, throwing another towards Brooke.

“We weren’t snuggled together,” Brooke mumbles as she chews the pineapple, shrugging when Yvie scoffs and rolls her eyes. “What?”

“So what was it, then? Huddling for warmth? In an apartment with a broken AC that’s always warm, anyway?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Yves,” Brooke lifts up her hands in surrender. “She’s my student. We’re not doing anything.”

“Y’know what I think? I think you don’t know what to tell yourself. And that’s why you’re avoiding thinking about it,” Yvie says, holding up another cube. “Want some more?”

“Don’t you have to go Facetime Scarlet or something instead of pressing me about Vanessa? God,” Brooke grumbles. “Yes to the pineapple, by the way.”

Yvie snickers as she grabs a bowl, filling it with a handful of cubes. “You’re grumpy when you’re forced to confront your feelings.”

“There are no feelings.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Denial may be a river in Egypt, but it’s also very entertaining on you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Brooke groans, resting her cheek on her palm with her elbow against the counter. “Now go have phone sex with your girlfriend while I get my earplugs out.”

“And I’ll enjoy it, thank you very much,” Yvie singsongs as she waltzes into her bedroom, kicking the door closed and leaving Brooke alone in the kitchen.

She’s sure about what she’s said to Yvie. There are no feelings. Well, friendship feelings, and feelings of caring for Vanessa as a person because she’s pretty damn great and a wonderful person, but...not those kinds of feelings.

Brooke doesn’t do those kinds of feelings. Not when they end the way so many other things do, not when relationships don’t ever last the way that they promise to. Brooke doesn’t need her time with Vanessa to end anytime soon.

Besides, platonic cuddling is a thing. Brooke has snuggled up against Kameron’s bicep more than once during their athlete days on the drives to tournaments. Not that it was ever that comfortable back then, but hey, maybe Asia will like it now.

Maybe she and Vanessa can go play lob at the bar one day at the bar that Kameron’s taken Asia to - not as a romantic thing, because they’re not like that, they’re not, but because Vanessa’s competitive streak is adorable. Something that Brooke loves to see but also something that pushes Vanessa to be a great athlete and is almost mesmerizing to watch.

So, yeah. Lob as friends.

Brooke’s going to emphasize the ‘friends’ part when she asks Vanessa. More to calm herself down about it, than anything else.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #boxer au #level up #holtzmanns

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terrific-togekiss · 3 years

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What if there was a Walt Disney Fighting Game? [Video Game Concept]

Note: I am well aware, that Disney would probably never say yes in a million years to this idea. Taking their beloved, child friendly characters and having them fight?!

OH THE HORROR?!

I am also aware there have been concepts for this in the past.

Final Fantasy Dissidia was supposed to be a Kingdom Hearts fighting game, but Nomura felt uncomfortable portraying Disney characters in such a violent atmosphere.

And there are sketches of what a Walt Disney fighting game could've been, inspired by Super Smash Bros, before it was canceled. It would've focused on more violent characters such as Gaston, Beast, Ursula, Captain Hook, Captain Silver and the Horned King. But the idea was dropped.

Here's the link.

This entire post is just building and putting together what a Disney fighting game would look like to me, if one came out in today's world. It's all merely speculation and ideas that's been in the back of my head for awhile.

(Special thanks to @mayflower-gal for helping me set this up. 😁)

Anyways, let's get started!

Part 1: The Plot

For the plot, I believe it would have to be something simple, since this an idea for a first game. It's the start of a potentially huge franchise, so I wanna keep it not only simple, but an aspect that helps kick off the potential series. And pull in many fans, old and new of Disney.

Let's take into account one thing: what's a recurring theme across various Disney movies (and overall media)?

Is it the lovable, comic relief sidekick that makes audiences laugh? Is it the songs that kids find themselves singing, long after the tale is done and the curtain has closed? Is it perhaps, the clever celebrity choices for important side characters?

No, It's the one defining aspect that draws in audiences, both new and old, bringing you to fall in love with the characters as the story is told:

Wishes.

Pinocchio wishes to be a real boy. Beast and all his servants wish to be human again. Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant. Ariel wishes to see the world beyond the sea.

Everyone wishes for something more in their life and have dreams that they wish come true.

What if all those wishes were counted? Collected?

Watched over. Much like a parent to their children. Or a teacher to their students.

Found engaging. Found entertaining. Found comforting. Found peaceful. Found introspective.

Looked at with childlike wonder and glee when accomplished.

But frowned on when those wish for selfish desires. And an even deeper disappointment at those very same inhuman desires, coming true.

Good and bad exists inside every person, it's just a matter of what one chooses to act on and stand by at the end of the day.

What someone wishes for is reflective of that.

Now imagine that same being coming to life and wrecking havoc across the Disney universe. Judging for themself, if any of these colorful, imaginative characters, truly deserve their...

Happily,

Ever

After.

Yep, the main plot of the story mode is all the various Disney characters literally fighting for wishes and dreams to come true...

against the LITERAL embodiment of wishing upon a star.

Each playable character having their own unique ending.

Some endings being repeats of your favorite Disney movies, with some minor changes to acknowledge the game's plot. While others are original due to the wide cast of characters that are available, besides your favorite Disney Heroes.

For example, you beat the story mode as say, Pinocchio, he wishes to be a real boy.

I know it sounds very redundant since a majority of these things already happen in the Disney movies, but I feel as though relieving them would be fun. In addition to some original ones that didn't happen with either the villains or less major characters.

It's only the hypothetical first game and I wanted start with something simple, that fans could easily get into. More complex plots, with more character interactions should be saved for any possible sequels.

Part 2: The Gameplay

The game would be your typical 2D fighting game. You have,

Combos exclusive to every character that requires practice.

Playstyles that make each character feel unique.

Special moves for each character to get the upper hand and the main focus in besting your opponent in 1 VS 1 matches.

Of course, there's dialogue before fights in the character intros. With so many to pick from, it had to be put in somewhere.

It resembles 2D fighting games that you've all no doubt heard of, such as Marvel VS Capcom or Street Fighter.

But what would a Disney fighting game have to offer on the table, in order to survive the overall video game market?

It would have to be something unique and a feature that not only gives it originality, but a chance to stand out with so much creativity and innovation. Practically begging fans for more.

Which is why I present to you: Disney Songs.

Or as this game prompt will call them: Musical Finales.

The highlight of many Disney movies and overall media, the music is what leaves a lasting impression on many audiences. Which is not surprising, since Disney is mostly a musical. At least in terms of most of their films.

With so many iconic songs from throughout the company's history, of course I'll be squeezing them somehow!

Each character has a music meter, that can only be filled up with how the player times and follows the beat of the character they play as. Follow the rhythm and beat of a character, and it will fill up quicker. Get cut off by the opponent and it doesn't fill up.

That beat being the music of the stage each player fights on, by attacking to the music and the same time. Think of it like the Sound Battles mechanic in Mother 3.

Every character has four different kinds of attacks: Neutral, Musical, Wonderful and Special.

Neutral Attacks are normal attacks that are mostly used to set up combos.

Musical Attacks are attacks that deal more impact, when timed with the music of the stage.

Wonderful Attacks can be seen as character oriented attacks, that embody the personality and charm of the character you play as. And can be used to entertain the audience. We'll get into that later.

Special Attacks are unique finisher moves that require a separate meter to be filled up, as with most fighting games.

Now what happens when the music meter is full? A Disney Song starts playing of course!

Say you filled up Cinderella's music meter for example, then "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" starts playing, granting some unique abilities for Cinderella.

Each song would grant different outcomes and bonuses for the various characters. They're not Special Attacks, as that's already a separate mechanic already.

For example, "Part of Your World" starts playing if you're playing as Ariel, filling up the stage with water and slowing down the opponent, giving Ariel a chance to either take advantage of that, bump items into them or create big waves of water.

But what happens if BOTH characters trigger the music meter at the same time?!

Well, that's where this gimmick becomes a fight for which song keeps on playing!

Both songs would start playing, both at the same time and volume. Except, both characters have to compete to see which is stronger.

This is done by the two characters fighting, before triggering a rhythm game between the two. Once one is the victor, the other song fades, while the other stays playing. Doubling the duration of that character's Musical Finale.

Another mechanic is the Entertainment Meter. Every level you fight on has one, that determines which fighter the audience likes more. Via Wonderful attacks, you can charm the audience into supporting you more. This activates things like getting healing items or stat boosts in power and speed. Some of your favorite Disney sidekicks even provide aid from the audience!

It's almost like watching a Disney movie live and being able to interact with the story!

Or the battle system in Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door.

I feel as though this is the best way of keeping the game interesting, giving it an identity of its own and still embodying that magic people will grow to love. It can also lead to some entertaining interactions in the background or foreground of a stage, as the music meter also brings in characters that would not be playable, but support playable characters nonetheless. Like Flounder and Sebastian.

Of course, either feature could be turned off if you're not a fan of that sort of thing, but that's a given.

Part 3: The Stages

With many Disney movies pick from, it's no wonder there's plenty of choices to pick from. Since this is the first game, I chose to focus more on the movies. Here's my take.

Steamboat (Mickey Mouse cartoons)

Duckberg (Ducktales)

Spoonerville (A Goofy Movie)

Dwarven Forest (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves)

Wonderland (Alice in Wonderland)

Monstro (Pinocchio)

The Prince's Ball (Cinderella)

Neverland (Peter Pan)

Forbidden Mountains (Sleeping Beauty)

The Coliseum (Hercules)

Andy's Room (Toy Story)

Elsa's Ice Castle (Frozen)

San Fransokyo Institute of Technology (Big Hero 6)

Atlantica (The Little Mermaid)

House of Mouse (House of Mouse)

The West Wing (Beauty and the Beast)

Cave of Wonders (Aladdin)

Pride Rock (The Lion King)

Ant Island (A Bug's Life)

Tamatoa's Trove (Moana)

Hawaii (Lilo and Stitch)

Headquarters (Inside Out)

Mor'du's Ruins (Brave)

Big Ben (The Great Mouse Detective)

Notre Dame (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

Merlin's Cottage (Sword in the Stone)

Emperor's Palace (Mulan)

The Great Before (Soul)

Todayland (Meet The Robinsons)

Paradise Falls (Up)

Zootopia (Zootopia)

Monsters Inc (Monsters Inc)

Nomanisan Island (The Incredibles)

The Bayou (The Princess and the Frog)

Atlantis (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Halloweentown (The Nightmare Before Christmas)

Oakey Oaks (Chicken Little)

Spirit Mountain (Brother Bear)

Sherwood Forest (Robin Hood)

Treasure Planet (Treasure Planet)

Horned King's Castle (The Black Cauldron)

The Secret Lab (The Emperor's New Groove)

Bald Mountain (Fantasia)

The Grid (Tron)

World's End (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Radiator Springs (Cars)

Grandmother Willow's Forest (Pocahontas)

East High School (High School Musical)

The Axiom (WALL-E)

Regent's Park (101 Dalmatians)

New Mushroom Town High School (Onward)

Happily Ever After Castle (Walt Disney Opening)

Part 4: The Roster

The bread and butter of many fighting games, the roster is no doubt one I had a bit of trouble putting together. With so many characters from over the years, it's no surprise. But since this is the outline of a possible first game, here's my interpretation.

Also, the cast is big to avoid being too barren or dull.

And because I had a lot of fun putting it all together.

Mickey Mouse (Mickey Mouse): The all around character of the game, he mostly fights by a series of cartoonish tricks, magic tricks and his paintbrush from Epic Mickey. His Special Attack would have him break the fourth wall like and rewind the fight like an old film projector in reverse. Except he heals, while the opponent receives twice the damage. His Musical Finale "Sorcerer's Apprentice" has him use Yensid's Sorcerer hat to its fullest and give his overall moveset more flashes to distract the opponent and slow them down.

Donald Duck (Donald Duck): Everyone's favorite, greedy mallard and the world's angriest duck. Donald would fight mainly with toon force, his fists, his bad luck and his anger. The more damage he takes, the angrier he gets. His Special Attack would have him don the Duck Avenger persona from his PK days and use a series of superhero gadgets to finish the opponent. His Musical Finale "The Three Caballeros" trades his anger for Jose Carioca and Panchito Pistoles showing up, making him happy. As they hurt the opponent, each time they hit Donald, to keep him happy.

Goofy (Goofy): Everyone's favorite Disney dad, Goofy joins the fight as not the brightest but with the biggest heart. He has toon force to aid him in some unconventional ways. His Special Attack would have him become Super Goof from his older days. His Musical Finale "Eye To Eye" would restore health everytime he dodges an attack, with a dancing flair to it.

Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves): The first Disney Princess, Snow White makes her debut and she's not alone. The Seven Dwarves direct most of her attacks, such as tossing rocks, mining tools as weapons and even just grabbing the opponent and tossing them. Snow White herself can sing and command woodland animals to tie up opponents or just fight to defend her. Her Special Attack would have the Dwarves try to roll a boulder, only for lightning to strike on the opponent and the boulder as extra damage. Her Musical Finale "Whistle While You Work" will call on a huge number of forest animals, as they tidy up the stage and Snow White, slowly replenishing her health and slowing down the opponent.

Pinocchio (Pinocchio): Don't lie in his presence, as that nose is not only for show. Pinocchio fights mostly by using his nose as a staff, the Blue Fairy bringing other toys to life to aid him and Jiminy Cricket distracting the opponent with music. Pinocchio's Special Attack would have him wish upon a star and turn himself into a real boy, as the opponent is turned into a puppet and loses damage as a result. Pinocchio's Musical Finale "I've Got No Strings" would cover the stage in thin lines used for puppets: if the opponent touches one, their frozen briefly. If a projectile attack hits, the same happens.

Cinderella (Cinderella): The bell of the ball and someone whom never gives up on kindness, Cinderella will use the dance moves she showed off at the ball for her moveset, having a dancing and musical feel to how she plays and flashy dances to win against the the opponent. With her Fairy Godmother using her magic to help her, such as flashes of light. Her Special Attack would have the clock strike midnight and she leaves behind her glass slipper: once the opponent touches it they get weighed down by a giant magic dress. Cinderella's Musical Finale "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" would have the Fairy Godmother cast a series of spells over the stage, as a new carriage pops up every time Cinderella pulls off a combo. The carriages run over the opponent and can even carry Cinderella to safety.

Peter Pan (Peter Pan): Leader of the Lost Boys and Captain Hook's second biggest pain in the butt, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell are here. Peter Pan has a pocket knife with him and Tinker Bell's pixie dust for aerial attacks. His Special Attack would have him toss a bunch of gold on the opponent, as the rest of the Lost Boys tackles them and beats them up for the treasures. His Musical Finale "You Can Fly" would create a trail of pixie dust behind him, that randomly causes the opponent to either jump too high or too low.

Captain Hook (Peter Pan): Keep all 'ticks' and 'tocks' away from this pirate! Captain Hook has a wide array of hooks to switch between, a flintlock pistol and his sword to win the battle. His Special Attack would have him run away from the Tick-Tock the Crocodile, as said crocodile attacks the opponent instead of Hook. His Musical Finale "A Pirate's Life/Elegant Captain Hook" would call his ship the Jolly Rodger onto the stage, as the pirates on the ship occasionally throw knives at the opponent and shoot at them, everytime Hook is caught in a combo and can't escape.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty): Aurora, sleeping beauty herself, is doing anything but sleep and her guardians are making sure of that! Her attacks has the Good Fairies use their magic in numerous ways, such as moving objects, animating objects and even petrification. Her Special Attack has Prince Philip show up with the Sword of Truth and the Shield of Virtue, to deal heavy damage on the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Once Upon A Dream" boosts her stats everytime she's hit.

Maleficent (Sleeping Beauty): The Mistress of all Evil, Maleficent uses a wide array of magic powers from cursed, throny vines, to her iconic green fires, she's one tough fighter from a distance. Her Special Attack would have her turn into a dragon and breath fire down on the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Once Upon A Dream" would have her make the opponent more drowsy, each time they hit her, until falling asleep, unless they keep moving.

Robin Hood (Robin Hood): The sly fox of England and one talented theif, this fox focuses on disguises, archery, swordsmanship and woodsmanship to make his way. His Special Attack would have authorities show up to arrest him, as they rain down arrows on the opponent in the process. His Musical Finale "Running Through The Forest" would allow him to dodge all attacks, without needing to hit the controls or input buttons.

Basil of Baker Street (The Great Mouse Detective): World's greatest detective! At least in the mouse world that is. Basil would investigate the stage of the fight, much like a crime scene and even pick up clues that double as weapons, such as a propeller or a mouse trap. His Special Attack would have him investigate a crime scene that hurt the opponent, before pushing them aside as 'worthless' evidence. His Musical Finale "Let Me Be Good To You" would have him require no further evidence and counter each hit with a deduction on his opponent's crime and even stop them from performing combos. Doing damage in the process.

Professor Ratigan (The Great Mouse Detective): Never call him a rat. Ever. This crime boss of the miniature crime world be no stranger to fist fights and gleefully take a swing at your demise, whether it's his fists, cane or traps. If not him, then his minions are more than happy to drown some orphans! His Special Attack would have him call his pet cat, Felicia to devour the opponent. His Musical Finale "The World's Greatest Criminal Mind" would give him more durability to hits, more destruction to the stage and traps cover more range on the stage.

Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Princess of the Sea, everyone's favorite mermaid is ready to explore beyond the sea. Armed with her father's trident, some amazing swimming skills and various sea animals at her command, she's more than ready. Her Special Attack would have her conjure a giant wave, that also covers the opponent in sea creatures. Her Musical Finale "Part Of Your World" fills the stage with water and can have Ariel bump floating objects into the opponent.

Ursula (The Little Mermaid): The last sea witch you would want to cross paths with, Ursula has eels to do her biding, poisonous ink clouds and even thunderclouds. Her Special Attack would have her turn giant via King Triton's trident and use the added power to attack the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Poor Unfortunate Souls" has her disguise herself as the opponent and slowly regain health from all souls being eaten by her. As a bonus, if she's infront of a mirror that's on the stage, her reflection will be her true form.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast): My, quite an odd girl, reading books and getting on the field of battle?! Belle's entire moveset would revolve around books; not magic books, just books on the rest of the cast and fairytales overall. She would be able to switch between each of these books and use what she's learned from them. For Example, 'Romeo and Juliet' gives Belle immunity to stat changes and rose themed weapons that hurt the opponent, like throwing weapons. 'Aladdin' gives her a magic ring that can conjure up magic smoke, furniture on the foe and teleport her. 'Jack and the Beanstalk' plants vines that can raise her up or entangle the foe. There's more books at her disposal, but that's just the general idea. Her Special Attack has her father ride in on his invention, chopping up an entire forest until the opponent is covered and crushed by chopped up logs. Her Musical Finale "Tale As Old As Time" gives her the power to 'skip' a fairytale, turning each of her attacks into the endings from the books. For example, 'Aladdin' would trap the opponent in an oil lamp, leaving room for her to attack.

Beast (Beauty and the Beast): The poor and cruel prince, turned into a monster as evil as the one in his heart. Beast has his boost in strength from his beastly form and claws to defeat the opponent. The curse not only affected him: his servants are by his side. Lumiere can incinerate the opponent or plant fires on the ground, Cogsworth can distract them with timed clock sounds, Mrs. Potts can spill tea to slip up the opponent, Chip will knock over bookshelves and Wardrobe can block attacks. His Special Attack would turn the opponent into a piece of furniture, leaving them open for attacks: each opponent having a different transformation. His Musical Finale "Be Our Guest" would have every attack with one of his servants, also heal Beast in addition to hurting the opponent.

Gaston (Beauty and the Beast): Nooo oooone's slick as Gaston! Quick as Gaston! No one's neck is as incredibly thick as Gaston! He's especially good at combo breaking! Boy what a guy that Gaston! Gaston has his inconic blunderbass and his fists, along with a bow and quiver and a hunting knife to deal with an opponent, almost as if they were an animal he's hunting. His Special Attack would have an angry mob charge at the opponent and beat them up. His Musical Finale "Gaston" gives him a strength boost, everytime he pulls off a combo successfully.

Aladdin (Aladdin): Everyone's favorite street rat and theif, he's not alone on the field of battle as Abu and Genie are here to help him. Abu can cling to the opponent and hit them repeatedly, Magic Carpet can be used for aerial attacks, Aladdin has a sword that he 'borrowed' from a guard and Genie can shape-shift in a variety of ways to best the opponent. Aladdin's Special Attack would have Genie distract the opponent, as Aladdin steals something off them and uses it to beat them. Aladdin's Music Finale "Friend Like Me" would have Genie grant a wish, each time Aladdin gets a combo, such as a stat boosts and healing.

Jasmine (Aladdin): The sultan's own daughter that would rather be anything than a prize to be given away. She has learned self defense skills, her father's guards and her pet tiger Rajah in her moveset. Her Special Attack would have the guards arrest the opponent and toss them into prison, as they struggle to escape and take damage. Her Musical Finale "A Whole New World" has one the Seven Wonders of the world occasionally pop up in the background to hurt the opponent, as the fight goes on.

Jafar (Aladdin): The Sultan's Royal vizer of Agrabah and one whom believes he should rule Agrabah. Jafar has his magic staff to hypnotize and cast spells onto his foe. Occasionally tapping into the phenenomal, Cosmic power of his Genie form to do some real damage. And Iago is here as well... mostly to complain. His Special Attack would have him become an all powerful Genie and Iago wishing for ways to 'hurt' (not kill) the opponent. His Musical Finale "You're Only Second Rate" would boost all of his stats and attacks, except he can't KO the opponent until the Musical Finale is done.

Simba (The Lion King): King of the Pride Rock and son of Mufasa, the Lion King himself is more than prepared with his claws and iconic roar. His roar can even control the weather to strike lightning and cause windstorms. His Special Attack would have him call on the spirit of his father, Mufasa, as the two of them roar at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Circle Of Life" will have him remember, how we are all connected and draw on the life-force of nature, slowly healing him and giving his roars more range.

Scar (The Lion King): Mufasa's little brother and King after his timely demise, Scar has his claws and his hyenas to make short work of his foe as if their nothing more than a light snack. His Special Attack would toss the opponent of a cliff, into a Wildebeest stampede just like in the movie. As a bonus, he would say 'long live the king's son' if Simba is the opponent. His Musical Finale "Be Prepared" has him do damage without needing to attack the opponent and just walking into the opponent.

Pocahontas (Pocahontas): Daughter of Chief Powhatan, this Disney Princess has the skills necessary in order to survive and win. Her Special Attack would have her people come in to fight alongside her and best the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Colors Of The Wind" gives her attacks more launching power and each dodge she does generates winds that hurt the foe.

Governor John Ratcliffe (Pocahontas): The main villain of Pocahontas, this greedy scoundrel will do anything to claim what he believes is rightfully his. He has a sword and uses his position of power to call his men into the fray. His Special Attack would have his men charge like in the movie at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Mine, Mine, Mine" prevents the opponent from interrupting his attacks and tripping over any gold sticking out of the ground.

Quasimodo (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): The hunchback of notre Dame himself and quite the sweetheart, he just wishes to see the outside world. His job as the ringer of the bells comes in handy to stun them, swing bells at them, his talented acrobatic skills and surprising strength. His Special Attack would have him reenact the Festival of Fools and have the opponent be caught up in all the chaos. His Musical Finale "Out There" turns all of his bell attacks, into soothing sounds, that heals him.

Esmeralda (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): An outcasts, like many other outcasts of Notre Dame, she's picked up on a multitude of tricks to evade capture. Such as illusionary tricks to trick opponents and various circus acts from the Festival of Fools. Her Special Attack has Phoebus teleport out of a field of smoke and beat the opponent. Her Musical Finale "God Help The Outcasts" plants multiple pillars of light over the stage, that burn the opponent and heal Esmeralda.

Judge Claude Frollo (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame): Someone whom believes only he can purge the world of evil and that all he does is for the greater good. Frollo, due to his old age mostly uses his sword, his horse and his 'fears' to end the opponent. Those 'fears' being cloaked figures that defend Frollo and burn the sins of his opponent. His Special Attack burns the stage, with the opponent caught up in the flames being tied to a stake. His Musical Finale "Hellfire" burns the opponent every time they hit and touch Frollo.

Arthur (Sword in the Stone): The rightful king of England, proven by pulling the sword in the stone, Arthur is ready to be king. Merlin's apprentice is armed with the sword of legend: Excalibur and his mentor Merlin is there to provide some magic aid by turning Arthur into various animals and predict the opponents attacks with foresight. Arthur's Special Attack has Merlin turn into a germ to infect the opponent. Arthur's Musical Finale "Higitus Figitus" grants Arthur increased weight, almost as if he's the sword in the stone and making him harder to launch and knock away.

Hercules (Hercules): The son of the Greek God Zeus, Hercules goes to prove himself as a true hero and this brawl may be his greatest trial yet. With his power as a Greek God, granting him immeasurable strength, agility and endurance. And his pet Pegasus shows up for aerial attacks. His Special Attack has his father Zeus come in and hurl his thunderbolt at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Zero To Hero" increases his durability each time he pulls off a combo, making him immune to attacks at times.

Hades (Hercules): Greek God of the underworld and lord of the dead, Hades will claim victory. In addition to mastery of fire and smoke, Hades can shift between generally calm and collected, to angered and enraged, which affects the range and power of his attacks. Pain and Panic also shapeshift to provide some help. His Special Attack has the Titans show up and attack the opponent. His Musical Finale "My Town" floods the stage withdead souls that slowly deplete the health of the opponent.

Mr. Incredible (The Incredibles): One of the greatest superheroes whom ever lived, in spite of an unneeded early retirement from the government. Robert "Bob" Parr, known to the public as Mr. Incredible, has his moveset revolve around his superstrength and invulnerability, also being able to use the environment to his advantage like uprooting trees. His Special Attack calls in the rest of The Incredibles; Dash, Violet, Elastigirl and Jack-Jack to help take down the opponent as a family. His Musical Finale "The Incredibles" has his attacks all release shock waves that occasionally make debris hit the opponent, like it's the intensity of a comic book.

Syndrome (The Incredibles): You better catch him while be monologues as he does not play around! The wannabe superhero uses zero point energy to toss the opponent and send objects flying their way. His Special Attack calls in the Omnidroid to make short work of the opponent. His Musical Finale "Kronos Unveiled" forces the opponent to not stand still for too long or repeat the same attacks, or else the Omnidroid will fire lasers at them almost as if their being analyzed.

Mulan (Mulan): From lying to save her father's life, to saving all of China to joining other famous Disney heroes on the field of battle, Mulan has been through a lot. She has a sword, fireworks, a staff and a fan to best her foes. Mushu tags along, spitting fireballs at the opponent and tricking them into attacking smoke illusions that resemble Mulan. Her Special Attack has fireworks hit a snowy mountain, crushing the opponent under an avalanche. Her Musical Finale "Reflections" has Mulan disguise herself and blend in a crowd that slowly came onto the battlefield. The opponent attacking a random person will have them retaliate and hurt them.

Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas): The pumpkin king and the patron of Halloween, his title comes with a wide array of pumpkin bombs, a flexible and detachable skeleton body. His Special Attack would have him trap the opponent in a series of giant pumpkin bombs, before his pet dog Zero lights them up. His Musical Finale "This Is Halloween" plants a series of tricks and treats all over the stage: treats for Jack that heals him and tricks that leave the opponent in a scared state. They take more damage while scared.

Oogie Boogie (The Nightmare Before Christmas): A literal burlap sack of nothing but bugs, Oogie Boogie has those very same bugs come out and harm the opponent. From spiders that tangle them up, to tarantulas that poison them to flies that hoist them up, he's as gross as sounds. His Special Attack would have him inhale the opponent and let his bugs do the work. His Musical Finale "Oogie Boogie's Song" increases his luck of landing higher damage, by also hitting a dice on the stage.

Tarzan (Tarzan): A man raised by apes, Tarzan has the strength to even keep up with apes and survive in the forest. In addition to his amazing strength, Tarzan can also swing from vines, use his impressive smell and hearing to counter attacks and a spear. His Special Attack has him command an army of apes to beat up the opponent. His Musical Finale "Son Of Man" puts fruits on the trees he swings from that he can heal himself with: since the opponent is not Tarzan the same fruits either poison them or make them dizzy.

Yzma and Kronk (The Emperor's New Groove): The former advisor of Emperor Kuzco and her most loyal henchman. Kronk does the fighting with his astounding strength and Yzma will be in the background, occasionally throwing potions on the opponent. Kronk will pull the lever, that will do a variety of things such as drop a bust of Yzma, a giant rock, a vase, etc. Their Special Attack has Yzma yell 'PULL THE LEVER KRONK!' sending the opponent and Yzma down a trap door to below the stage. Leaving it up to interpretation what happens, as Yzma casually walks back to the stage with a crocodile biting her leg. Their Musical Finale "Snuff Out The Light" replaces Yzma's potions with singing that prevents the health bar from going any lower.

Milo J. Thatch (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): An orphan that grew up to be quite the cartographer to even finding the lost city of Atlantis. Since he's not much of a fighter, the friends he made on the trip will do the fighting for him. Vinny plants explosions, Mole digs holes and attacks from the ground, Sweet heals Milo and boosts his durability, Audrey sends vehicles at the opponent and Cookie leaves food for people to trip over. He's even picked up on some Atlantean magic from Kida. His Special Attack has him pilot an Atlantean cruiser, shooting lasers at the opponent. His Musical Finale "Where The Dream Takes You" reverse the opponents controls, every time Milo lands a hit, almost as if their lost without a map.

Kida Nedakh (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): Princess of Atlantis and the current Queen, Kids is armed with a spear and a connection to the Heart of Atlantis, granting her forcefields and runes that dish out the ancient city's might. Her Special Attack summons a giant tsunami with the opponent being hit as Atlantis sinks. Her Musical Finale "Kida Returns" has the stage covered in runes, as the guardians of Atlantis will hit the opponent if they step on a rune.

Stitch (Lilo and Stitch): Experiment 626, also known as Stitch is an alien that befriended the kind-hearted Lilo Pelaki. Stitch is indestructible, has four plasma blasters, can roll up into a ball and lift up to 3000 times his own weight. His Special Attack calls in his cousins to each hit the opponent once, before Stitch himself smacks them with a car. His Musical Finale "Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride" doubles the strength of any attacks timed with the music.

Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean): Captain Jack Sparrow comes to the battle with his signature sword, musket and flintlock pistol. His Special Attack has the Black Pearl ram the opponent and shoot cannonballs at the opponent. His Musical Finale "He's A Pirate" makes him impossible to KO, he can still take damage though.

Sulley and Mike Wazowski (Monsters Inc): The dynamic duo and best friends, Sully and Mike fight with the former scaring the opponent and the latter being pulled from the background, used as a ball to hit opponents. The more combos they land, the more scare is generated as energy: this energy being used to power machines to attack the opponent. Their Special Attack has the stage be overloaded with scare energy, to the point of canisters bouncing all over the stage and hitting the opponent, much like in Monsters University. Their Musical Finale "If I Didn't Have You" makes the opponent laugh each time they hit Sulley, generating energy and leaving them open to attack.

Jim Hawkins (Treasure Planet): Jim Hawkins, someone with the 'makings of greatness' according to Captain Silver has a chance to prove that here. With his solar surfer to pull off some amazing tricks, a knife and a blaster, he can hold his own just fine. His Special Attack would simply be Treasure Planet blowing up, with the opponent caught in the explosion, as he flies away on a ship. His Musical Finale "I'm Still Here" gives him the markings of greatness, in the form of stat boosts everytime he pulls off a trick on his solar surfer.

Captain John Silver (Treasure Planet): The fearsome pirate cyborg and only real father figure to Jim Hawkins, Captain Silver is ready to use those pirate skills from over the years to claim his treasure. As a cyborg, he has a wide selection of tools and weapons, such as lasers, a cybernetic eye, guns, a sword, a cleaver, a battering ram, the list goes on. His Special Attack has the opponent fly into space, while he leaves on a pirate ship. His Musical Finale "I'm Still Here" fills the stage with comets that can freeze the opponent if they come into contact with them and increases the strength of Silver's lasers if they pass through.

Merida (Brave): The Scottish princess and daughter of Queen Elinor and King Fergus, enters the battle with her archery skills and swordsmanship to win the fight. Her Special Attack has her ride in on her horse Angus, delivering a series of arrows to finish off the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Touch The Sky" makes all her arrows hit the opponent, without fail.

Kenai and Koda (Brother Bear): The bear brothers, one born a bear and the other cursed to turn into a bear. Kenai and Koda fight as a team of bears from claws to wilderness skills they picked up. Even the Great Spirits watch over and protect them, by influencing nature to protect the brothers. Their Special Attack has the spirits of Sitka and Koda's mother come in to protect them and deal with the enemy. Their Musical Finale "On My Way" increases the range of their block, with the Great Spirits protecting them.

Tiana and Naveen (The Princess and the Frog): A hardworker that believes the only way you can make it in the world, is through hardwork. Even if that meant kissing a frog. Tiana has a wide assortment of cooking utensils to win. With Naveen distracting them with singing and dancing. They can switch to being frogs, where they use their tongues to tangle up the opponent and hop off lily pads. Their Special Attack has Mama Odie turn the opponent into a series of animals, before sending them away with her Voodoo magic. Their Musical Finale "Almost There" gives Tiana a golden glow that greatly increases the range of their attacks and distracts the opponent with golden glows.

Dr. Facilier (The Princess and the Frog): The Shadow Man himself and one whom turned Naveen into a frog, Dr. Facilier fights with his cane, Voodoo magic, shadows and spell casting. His Special Attack has him pull the opponent into a deal, as their dragged down by the Voodoo Spirits. His Musical Finale "Friends On The Other Side" let's him take a gaze into the opponent's future, turning all of his attacks into counters, if they hit the same time as the opponent's attacks.

Rapunzel (Tangled): The lost princess of the Kingdom of Corona, blessed with magic hair and has quite the efficient frying pan. Her hair can not only heal herself a bit, but can be swung from, tie up the opponent and makes for a surprising whip. Her Special Attack has Flynn and Maximus ride in, with Rapunzel hitching a ride, as the three take down the opponent. Her Musical Finale "I See The Light" fills up the stage with lanterns, that can blind the opponent if they touch any.

Hiro and Baymax (Big Hero 6): The child genius and the helper robot turned fighter have become quite the crime fighting duo, that honor Tadashi's wish of wanting to help people. Baymax does the fighting, with Hiro on his back, such as martial arts, rocket fist, an energy blade and sonic blaster. Their Special Attack calls in the rest of the Big Hero 6, as they teamup and take down the opponent. Their Musical Finale "Immortals" assuming they get the rights to the song has Baymax dodge every attack that comes, without needing to move the controller and slowly heal up.

Judy Hopps (Zootopia): A young bunny from Bunnyburrow that came to Zootopia to pursue her dreams of being cop and help people. Her bunny physiology grants her enhanced hearing, quick agility, high jumping and she has trained herself to take down foes much bigger than her. Her Special Attack has her do her job as a cop and arrest the opponent, with the entire police force joining in to help. Her Musical Finale "Try Everything" plants tourist attractions all over the stage, that can hurt the opponent and heal Judy.

Elsa (Frozen): The Queen of Arendelle and the Ice Queen herself, forced to conceal don't feel, don't let them know. But she'll be doing anything but that here! Elsa has ice powers to freeze the opponent, create pillars of ice, ice slides, ice skates etc. Her Special Attack calls in Marshmallow to deal with the opponent. Her Musical Finale "Let It Go" allows her ice powers to come to life and aid her in battle.

Moana (Moana): Moana of Motuni, whom has sailed the sea to return the Heart of Te Fiti with Maui. She has a harpoon and an oar, along with the ocean helping her and watching over her. Her Special Attack returns the Heart of Te Fiti to Te Fiti, whom fully heals Moana, temporarily boosting her attack. Moana's Musical Finale "How Far I'll Go" covers the stage in water that has boats to hit the opponent and granting Moana faster speed.

Maui (Moana): The Maori Demigod of the wind and sea, with quite the number of feats from over the years. With his magic fish hook, he can shapeshift into a number of animals, his most common being a hawk. His Special Attack being lassoing the sun into the opponent. His Musical Finale "You're Welcome" makes all damage to Maui, take longer to leave an impact.

And that's that. A LOT longer than I thought it would be. Now your probably thinking, what about all the other Disney media? It's an idea for the first game, so other characters (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Scrooge McDuck, Goliath, Kim Possible, etc.) would appear in a potential sequel.

Or DLC, since every game these days has it.

Thanks so much for reading all this and taking the time to do! I would love to hear some thoughts and feedback! I had a blast making all this and would like to see if you're interested in hearing more video game ideas.

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slater-later · 3 years

Text

Clarence x Reader Flirt at the Bar

Audience: General

Warnings: None, flirting

Notes: At Y/N, insert your own name, pronouns, and preferred complimentary words. That way, Clarence uses what you like!

Read below the cuff!

For: @da3m0ns-exe

The two of you had met at an Irish pub a few blocks down the street. Dimly lit under the cheap green ‘chandeliers’, at least, they were trying to be, hanging over a narrow line of booths. A green shamrock sign buzzing in the corner window, listing O’ Conners next to the four leafed sign buzzing beside it.

It was a fine dump, gritty and warm and thick with cigarette smoke. A few old geezers sat at the bar, buzzing back large thick dark beers as they chatted in Greek. It was Detroit after all, and everyone was welcome. The D brought everyone together. And if you had a few bucks to spare, it would make your night worth while. The jukebox buzzed in the corner, firmly set from the 70’s and stacked high with classic 45’s. A quarter would get you two songs, and it would flip through the rest. Buzzing Marvin Gaye’s Through the Grape Vine through the open speakers. There were a few TV’s in the corner of the bar, one showing a Tigers baseball game and the other the racetrack. A chestnut filly bending over the corner and splitting from the pack. Her jockey lit a firecracker from out under her behind as he rode her to the front, cracking his crop as they crossed the finish line. Taking home 50k- something a brod in the corner was upset by. Throwing her hands up as she watched, swearing! Because she had bet the bar that #5 would win. California Folly, the chestnut mare, bit her for the win, and she slapped up her cash to the house. Her buddy chuckled to himself at her anger. The bartender greedily took her cash, smirking, as he slipped it into the cash register. He changed the chalk boards odds for the next race. A commercial flashed across the screen.

It was a bettin’ bar, and it was a Friday night. That meant, the race tracks were on. They even caught the signal from the tracks out West. Meaning people could get drunk and lose their money all night long. At least, far enough into the night to be firmly fucked by 10, and either pissed from losing their money or giddy because they made a decent buck. Either way, it meant the crowd pounded back drinks. The bar took home a load whether it was packed full or filled with crickets.

Clarence was seated up at the bar, his army jacket slipped off and hanging on his chair. He slowly leafed through his comic, head buried deep in his book. He slowly drank, the rum and coke sitting at the edge of his lips, relaxed and quiet after a long day at work.

He had closed up shop and came in for dinner, a burger and fries, and read the newest edition of Deadpool in his freetime. He actually had a small stack of them next to them. He had cashed his check and sorted the freshly delivered boxes before he locked up. Making a mental note to pay the old man in the morning- he would stuff the bills in the register tomorrow morning.

The new stuff sold fast, and that was exactly why he needed to make his pick before it hit the shelves. He had to be strategic! Take advantage of the perks of running the store!

You slid into the stool a few spots down, gesturing over to the bartender as he made his way over. He was built, wearing a plain black shirt that hung over his body. A gold chain that hung from his neck. He looked kind and quiet, gentle. He had worked there for several years.

“Whatcha’ having?”

“Pabst,” You nodded, popping out your wallet.

“Pint or pitcher?”

“Pint.”

“Alright, but they’re $7 until 11.” He collected your cash and made his way up the bar, pouring your drink.

Clarence’s nose was in the comic, one hand holding the bridge of it while the other slowly set down the beer. Reaching out for a fry and mindlessly dabbing it into ketchup before it crawled to his mouth. Slowly inching closer.

His long and shabby fry broke off, falling into his lap and getting on his jeans. You couldn’t help but to laugh. “You okay over there bud?” The bartender handed you your beer, curling in the glass as you took a sip. The foam made a fine mustache on your upper lip.

“Jesus!” He bit, pissed. He had just gotten to a good spot- he fucking didn’t want to stop! “I don’t know man.” He shook his head, nabbing a handful of napkins out of the dispenser and cleaning his lap.

He finally looked up as you set down your glass. Catching the side of your face- “I ain’t pulin’ your chain, but ya got somethin’ on your face,” He grabbed another handful, passing it over. “A lil’ on here,'' He rubbed his upper lip, brushing his faint five o’ clock shadow.

You grabbed a napkin from him, quickly wiping it away before you got too embarrassed. Shit happens. “Thanks,” You muttered with a smile, softly laughing. Folding it afterwards and placing it under your glass.

He nodded, reaching for his comic again.

You were in a good mood and company always made it better. You had the urge to chat, he was attractive, after all. “So, whatcha readin’?”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “It’s uh, Deadpool. Issue #7,” He put his thumb on the page and flopped it over to the front. Reaching out his arm to show you the cover. “It’ll hit the shelves tomorrow.”

“How’d you get your hands on that?”

“Oh,” He flashed a guilty smile. Caught. “I work at the comic book store down the street, this is next week's issue,” The cover showed Deadpool stepping forward, gun in hand, his red and black latex suite dressed with a heavy white jeweled overcoat and flashing plants. He was wearing the iconic Evil Presley suit, black wig and sunglasses and all. Finger-pointing at a very unpleasant Cable, probably cursing Wade for being alive. Or was it that he can’t die?

“It’s the new Deadpool and Cable issue. It’s a new series they’re doing, do you wanna look?” He offered it and you happily accepted. Taking your time as you flipped through the pages, reading the inside insert. The introduction.

He rattled on, “It’s not as good as some of his other series but then I saw the front cover. I wanted to grab it before we ran out. I’m a big Elvis fan,” He smiled softly. Watching you read.

“Oh?” You peered up, raising an eyebrow. A hook- Elvis wasn’t exactly your man, but it didn’t deter you. “Is he your favorite?”

He beamed as he sipped his glass, nodding as the glass left his lips, setting it down on the wet napkin. “Favorite? It doesn’t begin to describe how much I love that man,” He could rattle on for forever. Even blab again about how much he wanted to fuck Elvis. But, usually, that wasn’t the most widely loved small talk conversation? He was better off tabling that conversation for a later time. Unless he wanted to blow his chance when flirting with a hot person. A man needed to get lucky sometimes, alright? Sheesh, he didn’t think some bisexuality was a bad thing. Isn’t that, a, you know? A sexual fantasy for some folks?

He drilled a finger into the side of his temple, elbow up on the bar as he watched you. How your feet shifted in your sift as you curled up closer to him, leaning in, tenderly turning the page of a secretly, newly loved comic. Mashing up the two things that made him bounce up and down with pure excitement. He was delighted.

“I’m a huge fan, I’ve always been since I was a kid. My dad used to listen to him while I was growing up, and I’ve had the itch ever since. He changed rock n’ roll forever, for the better,” He would watch old tapes of his dancing and performing on stage, having become familiar and comforting to his body. It was something he could return to, regardless of how he felt, and know he felt comfort in.

That, and watching him dance up on stage was light lightening. A friend and a lover.

“What’s your favorite song?” You smirked, flipping a page. You were more interested in his eyes than the panel. Wondering if he had caught on.

He slid from his seat to the one next to you, dragging his beer along with him. The bartender snapped up his long forgotten dinner. Wiping down the table. “Do you mind?” He gestured to the seat, checking in.

“No,” You shook your head smiling, your delight so easy to read. “Not at all,” You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat. Your body felt fresh, warmed by the flash of heat spreading through your cheeks. You hoped another drink of your beer would help, at least to calm the giddy building up inside of you.

You would cut yourself off at two beers. At the rate of your drinking, you’d been in the hole after three. Too drunk to drive and by the soft patter of the rain outside, you didn’t want to be stuck in the rain. Trying to wave down a cab as it poured, head buzzed and tired, ready to flop down in your bed and forced to make it back. Getting fucked up was fun, but getting home could be a challenge.

The thought already sounded miserable. You’d much rather be here, with the jukebox, under the warm hum of the bear and its speakers. It switched over to You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine by Lou Rawls.

“Good,” He smiled with a surprising amount of soft charm. Voice low as his pinky mused with his lip, eyes slow as they took in your body.

He had to look away.

FUCK! It wasn’t polite to do that shit, he was either going to get a drink thrown in his face again or something!

He kept his eyes up at the bar, tongue flashing across his teeth as he chuckled to his mind. He could be so fucking stupid! This Y/N was going to beat him.

He fisted for his cigs in his flannel pocket, offering you one.

Okay, this guy was an idiot, but a cute one.

“Thanks,” You took a cig and slipped it between the side of your lips. Grabbing your lighter in your coat pocket, prepared as a common smoker should. You lit both of your cigarettes.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” You shot, releasing a draw downward.

He snapped it out of his mouth, square in hand as he shook his head awake. “Shit, what was it again?” He laughed, he was losing his head around you. You sucked all the smarts out of his brain.

You elbowed him lightly, amused. “What’s your favorite Elvis song?”

He paused for a moment, getting his mind in gear. Quickly shuffling the different songs on his head- “Hound Dog, and then Blue Suede Shoes, and All Shook Up,” It was the fast, catchy beats of Elvis’s drawl that got him. The electricity that he exuded, that made him want to dance and grab the hand of a friend, a stranger, even an old person!

It made him want to boogie to the music.

You snickered, he hit right on the money. Damn, this guy had taste. Of the few you knew well, those were it. “Where does Jailhouse Rock rank?”

“8th,” He said clear as day, pointent. It was clearly not his favorite, but a hot contender. He had, in fact, listened to every single god damn song Elvis had published. Including the Hawaiian soundtrack album, which was a partial wash. He thought Elvis was at best when he was shaking it for a crowd, not trying to play at movie making. Yet, it hadn’t stopped him from consuming them all. “I paused not because I didn’t have a top three, but because…” Shit, he got himself in a hole? Wasn’t he playing the ‘cool guy’ really well?

“Because?” You flicked into the ashtray, bringing your arm in for a draw. Raising your eyebrows at him as you drew, feeling the air.

“Because I was thinking about you,” He slipped both elbows on the bar, facing forward towards the line of liquor and head turned towards you. Smirk painted on his lips, shameless in his expression, “You’re very Y/N.” He smiled, eyes stilling on you as they peered into yours eyes, then passed down your shoulder. “And I don’t normally get to talk to a Y/N like you.” Usually, they either weren’t interested in talking about comics and Elvis. So, what was there to talk about? Stupid small talk they he didn’t know much about? It was much harder, trying to find a Y/N with similar interests.

Your face felt warm again. You finished off the rest of your drink. Quenching your fuzzy head with the sharp inhale of nicotine, trying to peel the flush off of your cheeks. You couldn’t hide it- his soft pink lips looked beautiful when they moved. Especially when they were saying such sweet words.

You slicked a hand across your face, hiding the bite of your red cheeks, “How about we get a booth in the corner? And you tell me a bit more about yourself?” It seemed like a good idea. And it would give you a moment, to collect yourself, before continuing your chat.

You raised a hand to the bartender. He turned and you held up two fingers. A pint for you each.

“Hmph!” His spiky eyebrows peaked up, elated. “Sounds good to me!” He snickered, collecting his stack of comics and waiting for the drinks to come. You two stepped to the back to back of the bar, sliding in next to each other at the dark spot in the room. A place, where neither of you would be bothered. Holed up, until the bar closes, chatting about sweet nothing while you got to know each other. Maybe get, caught in the rain together, under his umbrella. Before turning in, to his apartment.

It was, in fact, closer than your apartment.

#true romance #christian slater #clarence x reader #fan fic #tristen writes #enjoy Ben!#This was fun

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harley-sunday · 3 years

Text

The Draw - Epilogue

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 1.9k

AN: This it. It’s done. I don’t really know what to say other than that I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. The ending (part 17) was supposed to be something completely different up until last week, when eL convinced me to take the angsty-route. I’m glad she did, because it allowed me to include a piece in the epilogue I wrote a long time ago but never really got to use until now. Thank you, sweets! Here it is, guys, enjoy! ♥

Masterlist

His collar is up and his hands are tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket because it’s cold, much colder than it usually is this time of year anyway. He looks up at the dark sky and wonders if there’s any snow in the clouds that slowly drift by, trying to remember if he’s heard anything about it on the news earlier that day but not recalling a weather warning going out.

He’s on his way home after another meeting with his lawyer, who, for some reason, always insists they meet in a restaurant rather than his office. It’s never during normal business hours either but always late at night, and always somewhere else. At first he was fine with the arrangement but it’s starting to annoy him that the restaurants have become increasingly more expensive and he’s always the one that ends up footing the bill. As if he doesn’t pay his lawyer enough to help him come out of this messy divorce as unscathed as possible.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the guilt that he feels about wasting three years of his life in a loveless marriage that never had a chance of succeeding in the first place. His therapist tells him to look at it as personal growth, but he doesn’t agree, not really, anyway. At least the court date has been set, he thinks, and this should all be over and done with two weeks from now.

He quickens his pace as he lets his mind wander, taking long strides, looking straight ahead and not paying much attention to the few people that are out this late. Most of them ignore him too. It’s New York after all. For a moment he debates the option of hauling a cab to get him out of this cold but he dismisses the idea quickly. He likes the walk home from downtown, it gives him an opportunity to clear his head and helps with the insomnia that sometimes bothers him.

Crossing the street absentmindedly there’s something on the other side that catches his eye. He does a classic double take and then shakes his head, not quite believing what he sees. He must have walked by these storefronts at least a dozen times and tries to recall if the art gallery has always been there, but he simply can’t remember. The black canvas that’s displayed in the window is illuminated from above by a single light bulb, highlighting the various brush strokes going from left to right and top to bottom. He knows it’s called ‘Love’ before even looking at the little card pinned to the bottom right corner, and it’s like someone’s punched him in the gut. He first saw it a few years ago, when it was still a work in progress, standing on an easel in her guest bedroom in Charlotte, the paint still wet, and the black somehow less black.

It’s then he notices the lights inside the building are on and it’s like his body has a mind of its own and before he knows it he’s on his way in. A bell chimes above his head as he enters and he hears a chair being pushed back in response somewhere. The space he’s in is long and narrow, only about fifteen feet wide, but the ceiling’s high and makes it feel more spacious than it is. There’s a wall about forty feet in, with a door that’s slightly ajar, and music flowing in from the back room, some song he thinks he recognizes but hasn’t heard in a long time.

“I am so sorry but we are closed,” the voice is soft, coming from behind the door, but he would recognize it anywhere and he chokes up a little at the familiarity of it all. The door opens a little more then and all of sudden she’s there, exactly like he remembers her, “I must have forgotten to-” but she doesn’t finish her sentence because it’s then she sees him. Her eyes widen in shock and she actually drops the paintbrush she’s holding, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hey,” he says with a foolish grin, because never in a million years did he expect to run into her again, not here, and definitely not tonight.

“Hey,” she mimics, her eyes softening and the hint of a smile on her lips.

He takes the few steps needed to get to her, and for a moment he hesitates, unsure if she’d let him, but then he throws his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug. He can feel her smile against his shoulder, and he presses a kiss into her hair, because God, does it feel good to hold her again.

“Here you go,”

He takes the beer she hands him and waits until she’s uncapped hers before he raises it in a toast. She clinks her bottle against his and takes a swig and he follows suit.

They’re sitting on the floor of what turns out to be her art gallery, their backs against the far wall, looking out on the dark street on the other side of the window. She turned the lights off before she brought him his beer, except for the lone bulb illuminating ‘Love’, and it feels like they’re in a little bubble, shielded from whatever’s going on outside and if someone told them he’d have a way of making this little moment in time last forever, he’s sure he would.

He’s taken his jacket off, using it as something to sit on after she admitted she’s only got one chair here, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting against the bare brick wall. He’s got a million questions for her but he’s not sure where to begin and so he takes another sip of his beer instead, letting the silence settle between them.

She’s sitting next to him, close enough that her arm brushes against his whenever she takes a drink and it feels like there are little electric currents running through him every time she does. She looks up at him then, her eyes narrowed, almost as if she’s studying him, “You ok?”

He wants to tell her he’s fine, great even, but the way she looks at him tells him she’ll see straight through any bullshit answer he’ll try to give and so shakes his head, “Not really.”

“Talk to me,”

He opens his mouth to say something but then decides against it. They haven’t seen each other in four years and so much has happened but none of it they went through together and-

“It’s ok if you don’t want to,” her voice is soft and kind. She clears her throat then, “It’s just- I’ve read the articles about your divorce and- Well, the accusations she's made and- I don’t know, Seb, I figured maybe it has something to do with why you’re out this late.”

“Yeah,”

“I’m sorry.”

He lets out a heavy sigh because he doesn’t want to bother her with everything that’s going on in his life, not really, but he also knows she’s a good listener and there’s no one he’d rather talk to than her right now. Looking down he plucks at the edge of the label on his beer bottle, deciding then to be honest with her, “I guess I should have fought harder, should have made it work, I-” another sigh, “They say you never know what you got ‘till it’s gone, right?”

He sees her nod out of the corner of his eye, and then her hand’s on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and it’s like a bolt of lightning runs through him, “Then why don’t you?”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Why don’t I, what?”

“Fight,” she explains. “Try to make it work. If that’s really how you-”

“Would you let me?”

“I-” she hesitates and pulls her hand back then, “What?”

“I wasn’t talking about her,” he confesses quietly and when he looks up at her he sees her eyes are wide in shock. He tries to smile, “It’s always been you.”

“Oh,” she breathes, her eyes a little glossed over now. She doesn’t say anything else and he doesn’t really know how to go from here so he keeps quiet too. But then she puts her beer down and stands up, holding out her hand to him, “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

He takes her hand and lets her pull him to his feet. She doesn’t let go when she leads him to the front of the gallery, her hand warm against his, and when he gives it a gentle squeeze she smiles at him from over her shoulder and it warms his heart in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

She stops in front of a painting, reaching behind it to turn on the searchlight, the warm light casting a golden glow on the canvas. “I made this one right after we broke up,” she says, her voice a little rough, “took me forever to finish because I couldn’t stop crying.” His heart breaks a little, but she dismisses her statement with a wave of her hand, “I got there in the end. It was like therapy.” A smile then, “I submitted it to a local art competition and I don’t know-” she shrugs but he can tell it’s important, “People seemed to really like it. Someone actually wanted to buy it but I couldn’t- I would never.”

She gestures around her then, “This is all because of that.” He must look confused because she continues, “I kept painting, had some of my work on display in local art galleries, but it wasn’t until I decided to quit my job after Deb retired last year and Mark got appointed as her successor that things really took off. More art shows meant I sold quite a few pieces, enough so I could open my own art gallery anyway.” She looks up at him, “I don’t really know how I ended up in New York, but,” another shrug then, “here I am.”

“Here you are,” he agrees quietly. He doesn’t know how these things work, if it’s karma or faith or destiny he has to thank for this, but he likes to believe that her coming back into his life at this exact moment was meant to be and he vows right then and there to never let her go. There’s still so much he wants to tell her, has to tell her, and he’s sure the same goes for her, but it doesn’t matter. Not now anyway. Now he just says, “If you’ll let me, I’m willing to fight.” He squeezes her hand, “For you.”

“Me too,” she whispers. “For you,” she looks at him then, “and for us.” She lets go of his hand a little, only so she can intertwine her fingers with his, leaning into him, her other hand on his arm. She nods towards the painting, “Do you like it?”

He looks at it then, really looks at it, taking in the different shades of green she’s used, which, even when they’re on opposite sides of the canvas, seem to pull towards each other, always meeting or almost meeting in the middle, and somehow he just gets it. “I do.”

“It’s called ‘The Draw’.”

#The Draw #Sebastian Stan imagine #Sebastian Stan fanfic #Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 years

Text

Graduated - Gerard Way x Reader

Summary: The reader finally gets to graduate university and gets a little surprise from her boyfriend

Reader: female

Warnings: I wrote this for my friend, so this might be very specific (and exaggerated)…, not properly proof read :/

Word count: 2 384

A/N: I know I exaggerated some of the parts in here, and the person who this is for knows it’s for her, but I wrote it the way I imagine it must have felt like sometimes. I’m so fucking proud of you, sweetie.

Impatiently you shifted around on your chair. It was a nice chair, no reason to complain, but truth be told, you didn’t want to be here, not anymore. You were done here. All you really wanted was go home and video-call your boyfriend for as long as possible until he had to hang up.

But here you were, listening to the university’s dean’s speech in which you took no interest. Maybe you should have, after all this was your graduation ceremony, but you had already gotten your certificate, and now you wanted nothing but leave this part of your life behind.

Sure, time at uni had been fun. Sometimes. You had met a bunch of cool people who you enjoyed hanging out with, you had spent afternoons sitting in cafés with them, procrastinating the inevitable studying together, you had gone to parties and met more people, but in the end you had never really become as close with any of them as you would have wanted. Maybe because they wanted to be there, wanted to study architecture, and you just did it in order not to get into trouble with your parents.

How many times you had wanted to give everything up! How many times you thought about just throwing it all in the wind and run away, go on tour with your boyfriend who was playing in a band, just leave this godforsaken city behind!

It had not always been this bad, but the stress and anxiety had worn you out over the years, had caused burn out, or depression, or whatever you wanna call it. Not that anyone cared. Not until Gerard had come back into your life.

You had known him and Ray from school, had always been friends with them, even though they were a couple of years older than you. But as soon as Gerard’s brother Mikey had graduated high school the same year as you, they had piled into a van together with a guy called Frank (who now was just as much your friend as the rest of them), and had driven off into the sunset to make their dream of being a punk band into reality. Of course they had asked you to join them. And you had wanted to say yes so badly. But you knew that if you had done that, your parents would have never talked to you again, and so you had bowed to your parents wish and gone to university to study architecture, even though you never had really wanted that.

It had taken almost two years before your friends had finally been back in town, and those four weeks in the summer holidays had been the best four weeks of your life. You had hung out with them all the time, had made music, taken pictures of them, helped bring a huge art project to life… and you had gotten together with Gerard. He had always been the one you had felt drawn to the most, always been the one you had called first when you had good news to share. And between band practice, drawing comics and staring at you, he somehow had managed to tell you that for years he had felt the same way for you as you felt for him.

That had been almost two years ago now, although it hardly felt like that long. Soon after that summer the band had gone on tour again, and Gerard was only home a couple of weeks a year. Most of the time you hardly noticed, except for in the evenings, when the stress of the day finally stepped into the background, and you had a few hours to your own thoughts. Those were the moments you missed him. Often he called you after shows, talking for hours until he realised you had to get up in the morning, and sent you to bed with a chuckle and an “I love you”. In those two years, in which you had been together, you had only spent about three months in the same city. The last time you had seen him was over three months ago. And how you missed him!

You glanced over to where the girls sat, that usually had spent their lunchbreaks with you. They were surrounded by their families. One was arm in arm with her boyfriend. You quickly turned to look away. You would see Gerard soon. After this weekend, right on Monday morning, you had booked a flight out to L.A. where MCR would play a show that evening, and then you would accompany them on the rest of the tour. You had been hesitant about that at first, when Gerard had suggested it, but you had never been on tour with them, and you really missed Gerard, and judging by the sound of his voice over the phone, he missed you too.

‘Just two more days,’ you told yourself, and tried to focus back on the dean’s speech.

Luckily the dean did not talk for a long time after that, and when he was finished, your favourite professor jumped on stage to announce that there was a buffet for everyone to have some snacks before sending you off into life.

With a sigh you got up. You felt stiff after all the sitting, as if you had not sat for long enough during your time at university. You made way for some elderly couple who seemed to be the grandparents of one of your fellow classmates, and huffed at the memory of your parents telling you, they would not be in town for your graduation. It felt like you had done these four years of psycho terror for nothing, although Gerard had always told you that you needed to finish this degree or you would have thrown away four years of your life. Maybe he had been right, thinking about quitting two months before the final exam would have probably been something you would later regret. And this way you had at least something that proved you had learnt anything at all.

Once you had made your way out of the maze of chairs, you wondered whether you should join the others by the buffet. Scanning the crowd, you realized that they all seemed to be talking to someone already, and you would have felt like an intruder if you had walked over now. So instead you brushed your hair out of your eyes, and turned around, promptly bumping into someone carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Quickly excusing yourself, you stepped to the side, but then you saw the face of the person who held the flowers, and almost would have gotten a heart attack. Tears shot into your eyes as you stared at this so familiar face while a smile spread over Gerard’s face at seeing your reaction.

Opening his arms, he allowed you to fall against him, wrapping him in a hug, and burying your face against his neck. Gently he closed his arms around you, not as hard as he would have wanted to, but he tried really hard not to ruin the flowers he was still holding.

“Congratulations, baby,” he whispered against your ear, and you quickly turned your head, and pecked his lips before pulling away, and whipping tears of your cheeks.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Francisco,” you almost shouted, playfully shoving him, while you felt tears rise again.

“Couldn’t just miss my girl graduating,” he grinned, “not after all the shit you’ve been through just for this.”

“I fucking love you, you know that,” you sobbed, not caring about the tears anymore. Who cared about make-up anyway?

“I should hope so, otherwise the red roses here would be embarrassing,” he laughed, and handed you the bouquet of sunflowers, daisies and a couple of red roses.

“There you are!”

Before you could thank Gerard, Ray and Mikey pushed through the crowd.

“Gerard just stormed off,” Mikey complained.

Wide eyed you stared at them.

“You’re here too,” you exclaimed, and quickly went to hug Mikey and Ray tightly.

“We’re all here,” Mikey explained, “Frank’s just over there, at the buffet.”

“Where else,” you rolled your eyes, and felt another wave of tears burning in your eyes. “You have no idea how much I love all of you.”

Not knowing what to do with yourself you turned back to Gerard, and hugged him, hiding your face against his chest, making him giggle and wrap his arms around you protectively.

“Oh, we brought chocolates, lemonade and some cake too,” Ray remembered, “but the stuff’s still in the car outside.”

“We didn’t want to burst in here with all the food, in case someone has the idea to ask for some of it,” Mikey explained, making you laugh a little, but you did not move away from Gerard.

“Guys, these tomato bruschetta are excellent,” a familiar voice announced, “Here I brought some. Take them quickly; this old lady is already giving me death glares.”

Laughing you finally pulled away from Gerard, and turned to Frank, who had joined you, balancing several of the tiny breads on one of his hands, holding them out to everyone. Like the others you took one, and waited until Frank’s hand was finally free before hugging him too.

“Thank you for coming here,” you laughed as you let him go again.

“Sure, I mean it’s not like Gee gave us a choice,” Frank shrugged, but his eyes gave away how happy he was to be here, too.

“And by the way, the old lady is one of my former teachers,” you let him know, nodding into the direction of a white haired woman who was watching the five of you closely.

“Ah well, you’re not her student anymore,” Frank grinned.

“You’re right. And that means I also have absolutely no business still being here,” you decided, “Let’s get out of here.”

“But the buffet- ! They have tiramisu,” Frank whined.

“You can do whatever you want, Frankie,” you laughed, “but I’ve been stuck here for long enough. Four years of my life wasted on finishing a degree I never wanted. It’s time I get out.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Gerard agreed and kissed your hair. “Like Ray said, we brought cake and lemonade. We could drive down to the lake and have a picnic there.”

“Aw, a picnic sounds absolutely perfect right now,” you nodded enthusiastically, and allowed Gerard to slip his hand into your free one.

“We’ll make quite a sight, down there between all these teenagers, while we’re all dressed up,” Mikey giggled following Gerard and you, who lead the way through the hall.

Looking over your shoulder you realised he was right. All of the men were wearing either dark jeans or dress pants, and dress shirts. Mikey was even wearing a tie. And you were dressed in an elegant skirt with a cute blouse and a cardigan. You really would stick out between the high schoolers who were doubtlessly hanging out at the lake around this time on a Friday afternoon.

“And after the picnic, I thought the five of us could commemorate the good old times by grabbing pizza over at Giovanni’s,” Gerard continued making plans, causing Frank to cheer quietly at the prospect of getting some tiramisu there.

You turned your head to look at him, and found he was already looking for your reaction.

“What are you trying to do,” you wondered, “Flowers, picknick, pizza,… you don’t need to convince me you’d be a great boyfriend, I already know that.”

“Hey! I just wanna spoil you,” Gerard defended, “We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you’ve just graduated, so I think I should be allowed to spoil you.”

You let go of his hand, and instead wrapped your arm around his back, which caused him to chuckle, and wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“What about L.A., is that still on,” you wondered, as you stepped from the crowded hall into the emptier hallway that lead to the main entrance of the building.

“Of course it is. We managed to schedule the shows so we got today and the weekend of, but the L.A. show on Monday is still on as planned,” Ray explained from behind you.

“And I still hope you’ll come with us,” Gerard added, looking down to you expectantly.

“Not like we’d give you much of a choice,” Mikey added, before you could even answer.

“He’s right, we can’t have Gerard mopping around because he misses you so much for another two months,” Frank agreed.

“I wasn’t mopping!”

“Yes, you were!”

“Oh, you were!”

“Nooo, not at all!”

All his bandmates spoke at once, making you laugh.

“It really seems like I have no choice, do I,” you giggled, linking your thumb into one of the belt loops on Gerard’s trousers.

“No, you don’t,” Gerard agreed, and nuzzled his nose into your hair.

Pushing open the heavy door to the old building, the five of you stepped out of the university into the warm light of the afternoon sun. Stopping in your tracks you leant your head back a little, and felt how the sunbeams warmed up your face. Taking a deep breath, and closing your fingers around the bouquet Gerard had given you, you opened your eyes again. Realisation washed over you; you were free. For four years you had fought your way through the system, just to please your parents, and now you were free. If these four years had taught you anything, then that you would never be happy if you always did what others expected you to do. You needed to do what you wanted to do. The long term plan? No idea. The intermediate plan? Go on tour with the boys. Actually you could maybe do that as a long term plan, too. But right now? Picnic and pizza with Gerard.

“Everything alright?”

You turned your head and looked into hazel green eyes that worriedly glanced down to you.

“Yeah, yes. Actually. I’m just- I’m happy.”

Gerard smiled and leant down to kiss you quickly before the others called for you.

“Let’s go,” he grinned, and arm in arm you followed your friends to the van.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @starduststyx

MCR: @deadlovers

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bronzeflower · 4 years

Text

That’s not how Imaginary Friends are Supposed to Work!

This is a fic based on a comic by@franeridart which can be found here

This fic is also on ao3

-----

When Eijirou was really young, he had an imaginary friend. Most children do. Except he didn’t really make someone up like everyone else did.

Eijirou was in his family’s living room, sitting on the floor and leaning over the coffee table as he drew pictures with both hands at once and hummed a made-up tune.

But the tune he was humming was the only thing he made up in this experience.

Because one moment, Eijirou was drawing peacefully, and, the next, he was interrupted by shouting, the sound making Eijirou tense up.

“WHAT THE FU-” A man suddenly appeared, blurry at first, but he soon came into focus.

Eijirou relaxed slightly as he and the man started staring at each other. This gave Eijirou time to observe him.

He was big, or, at the very least, much bigger than Eijirou, and his bigness was accentuated by the huge red cape he wore that had a tattered edge and a furry collar. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he was wearing a bunch of necklaces and a pair of earrings that looked like teeth. He also had really spiky blond hair and red eyes.

As they continued staring at each other, Eijirou figured that if the man wanted to hurt him, he would have done so by now, so he was maybe, probably, trustworthy.

“Uhm,” Eijirou began, tilting his head to the side and bringing his hands closer to himself. “Who are you, Mister?”

The man’s eyes widened as he leaned a little bit away from Eijirou before answering.

“I’m Bakugou Katsuki, the Barbarian King!” Katsuki said very proudly, puffing his chest out as he said it.

“I’m Eijirou. It’s nice to meet you,” Eijirou wasn’t really supposed to talk to strangers, but this Katsuki guy didn’t seem all that bad. And he looked super cool! “And, um, if you don’t mind me askin’, how’d you get here?”

“Uh,” Katsuki seemed to be a bit at a loss for words, so Eijirou quickly tried to think of something.

“Here!” Eijirou handed over one of his crayons - the red one. “You could draw it out!”

“Smart idea,” Katsuki praised, and he took the crayon and started doodling on one of the papers Eijirou had.

Katsuki’s expression quickly changed from surprised to angry.

“I was fighting a mage with the powers of time and space,”

“Uh-huh,” Eijirou nodded, looking at the picture of Katsuki he drew. It was a drawing of what was definitely Katsuki with a depiction of the person who was probably the mage. “You have a sword!”

“It’s a cutlass,” Katsuki corrected. “But yeah, I do.”

“Where is it?” Eijirou asked excitedly, and Katsuki’s face turned sour.

“I dropped it what this nasty fucking bitch transported me to god knows where.”

“Gasp! Those are bad words, Mister!” Eijirou declared, and Katsuki let out a chuckle.

“And she’s a bad person, so it fits!”

“Ehhh! So you’re a hero!” Eijirou picked up the drawing Katsuki did, grinning at it and imagining what was surely an awesome battle in his head.

“Hah! You may say so, yeah!”

“So cool!” Eijirou praised.

“You bet!” Katsuki grinned before he turned more neutral, looking down towards the crayon he still held. “More importantly, what kind of charm was used to make this stick write red?”

“That’s a crayon!” Eijirou answered, very confused as to why Katsuki would ask a question like that.

“Crayon? What’s that?”

Before Eijirou could explain, Katsuki got all blurry again, and it seemed his words did so too, sounding almost garbled.

“Ah. Looks like I’m going b-” And then Katsuki was gone.

“...oh.” Eijirou said, feeling pretty sad and very surprised that his new friend had disappeared. It looked like Katsuki had dropped the crayon he was holding too. “Bye-bye then.”

Eijirou wasn’t all that sad for long, getting distracted easily enough. He started to draw out Katsuki and imagined adventures he went on.

After he finished doing that, he grinned at his work, picking up his favorite and going over to one of his moms.

“Mama! Mama!” Eijirou shouted out. “Look what I drew!”

“Oh!” Mama gasped. “It’s so nice! And who is this in the picture?”

“He’s the Beerbarian King!” Eijirou announced, and Mama tilted her head a bit.

“The Barbarian King?”

“Yeah! He’s a hero!”

“Oh yeah?” Mama smiled. “And Barbarian King is his hero name?”

“Uh-huh!” Eijirou confirmed. “He told me about how he was fighting a villain! And the villain could use time and space powers.”

“That’s some powerful quirk. And how did this fight go?”

“I think he’s still fighting it,” Eijirou answered. “He dropped his sword before he came here because of the villain’s quirk.”

“And what’s the Barbarian King’s quirk?” Mama asked. Eijirou thought for a moment, his face in deep concentration.

“I don’t know,” Eijirou finally said. “He didn’t tell me. He had to leave because he was still in battle.”

“And he didn’t want to harm you because you’re a civilian, right?”

“No, it’s cause he’s still being affected by the villain’s quirk.”

“I’m sure he’ll come out on top, no matter how powerful the villain is. Heroes always win after all.”

“Yeah!”

“What do you want for dinner, sweetie? I’m trying to decide between donburi and tonkatsu.”

“Tonkatsu! It’s got, um, katsu! For victory! And Katsuki!” Eijirou then brought his voice down to a whisper, or at least as much of a whisper as he could manage. “That was the Beerbarian King’s name.”

“Surely making tonkatsu will bring him victory, then!” Mama grinned. “Now, do you wanna help me?”

Eijirou nodded vigorously, and, when dinner was finished, Eijirou spoke about Katsuki for the duration of the meal.

Maybe making tonkatsu wasn’t necessary because Katsuki already had victory in his name, but Eijirou figured a little extra victory couldn’t hurt.

After that, Eijirou almost forgot about Katsuki, but especially when his quirk manifested, and he had to be rushed to the hospital.

It hurt a lot, but Eijirou got a cool scar from it, and heroes always had scars, so it was obviously a sign that he would become a great hero!

After his quirk came, Eijirou also started losing his baby teeth, which all came out pretty quickly as his adult teeth came in. And his adult teeth were cool! And sharp!

One day, while Eijirou was bundled up in a hoodie while playing games on his DS, he heard a familiar voice.

“-ack.”

Eijirou quickly turned his head towards the source of the noise, a smile already on his face.

“Gasp! Mister! You’re back!”

“Or not,” Katsuki had his body posed for a fight, but his stance relaxed as Eijirou jumped off the bed and approached him.

“I thought you had left forever!”

Katsuki kneeled down so that he was at eye level with Eijirou.

“Hey, Eijirou, how long was I gone?”

“How...long?” Eijirou’s grin dropped as he thought.

“Yeah, how long.”

“Uh...uhm…” Eijirou puffed his cheeks out before giving an answer. “...Three?”

“Three what?”

“...Maybe more than three?” Eijirou looked down in frustration.

“Y-yeah?” Katsuki snorted as he held back laughter.

“Hm…”

“More than three?”

“Hm-hm.”

“I-I see,” Katsuki was hiding his smile behind a hand, but he soon became blurry like last time. “Ah fuck, there I go again.”

“Aw, already?”

And Katsuki was gone. Eijirou frowned, but he did his best to rationalize that Katsuki probably couldn’t control when or where he went.

But Eijirou didn’t have to wait too long for Katsuki to appear again, with him showing up about a week later.

“Ah, I’m here again,” Katsuki spoke, and Eijirou grinned up at him.

“Yay!” Eijirou cheered. “Hopefully you can stay for longer this time.”

“Hopefully.”

“I wanna know more about you,” Eijirou said.

“Yeah? What do you wanna know?”

“Uhm…” Eijirou thought for a moment. He didn’t really prepare any questions beforehand. “What’s your quirk?”

“What’s a quirk?” Katsuki tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing the word.

“It’s like, um, a power that a person has,” Eijirou decided on. “Mine is hardening! See! I can make my body go all sharp and rocky!”

Eijirou did his best to demonstrate, but he couldn’t harden all that much.

“It’s not all that strong now, but if I train a lot it will be!” Eijirou declared, and Katsuki nodded in understanding.

“So like magic.”

“Sure!”

“I can summon explosions,” Katsuki explained, opening up his palm towards Eijirou and making small explosions.

“Woah! That’s so cool!”

“I can go bigger, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eijirou frowned at that before grinning.

“I’ll just have to get good enough at hardening! Then you won’t be able to hurt me!”

“That’s the spirit!” Katsuki affectionately ruffled Eijirou’s hair before disappearing again.

“I’m gonna have to think of better questions,” Eijirou announced to himself.

Eijirou spent the next few minutes attempting to think up questions.

“Favorite color is always a good one! Or is it too boring? Hmmm...No, it’s a classic for a reason! And, um, favorite animal? Hobbies? Oh! I could ask about his sword! Like, is it special? He said something about magic...maybe I can ask about that? Obviously favorite number. His friends too! I gotta know about them!”

Soon enough, Eijirou got bored and started playing with his toys.

Katsuki doesn’t come back for a long time. For basically forever, to the point where the winter months were over. But he did show up, and Eijirou was prepared, more or less.

“Tell me about your friends!” Eijirou shouted as soon as he noticed Katsuki appear.

“Huh? I don’t got friends,” Katsuki responded.

“What!? What about your adventuring buddies?” Eijirou asked. “You have those, right?”

“I guess I do have a few travel companions. They’re all annoying though.”

“Tell me! Tell me about them!” Eijirou demanded, and Katsuki caved and sat down. They were surrounded by Eijirou’s action figures, so Katsuki picked one up to demonstrate.

“Obviously there’s me. I lead a group of five idiots right now.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“I’ve only got one permanent companion,” Katsuki explained. “My lover and best friend.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, what’s she like?” Eijirou questioned, and Katsuki made a face at it.

“He’s a guy. And he’s super manly and strong, and he’s a dragon.”

“A dragon!?” Eijirou exclaimed, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “I wanna be a dragon! What’s he look like?”

“As a dragon?” Katsuki questioned, and he continued when he was met with a nod. “He’s huge. Bigger than a house, and he’s covered in red scales that are impervious to pretty much everything, and he can breathe fire.”

“Awesome!”

“He sure is!” Katsuki boasted.

“What about the others you’re traveling with?”

“Well, Sparky’s the whole reason why I have to travel with a bunch of idiots in the first place. He’s an envoy who’s supposed to deliver a message to the Kingdom of Endeavor, although he mostly flirts and plays the lute badly.”

“Is Sparky his actual name?”

“No, but he has lightning magic. With how powerful that kind of magic is though, I suspect he’s actually a runaway prince or something.”

“Ohhhh.”

“He brought along Ears, who’s a knight. She’s good at finding out information.”

“Why Ears?”

“Her magic manifests physically, so her earlobes are really long,” Katsuki answered. “Sparky also brought along Tape-Face and Black Eyes. Tape-Face was, like, the owner of some establishment, but he owed Sparky a favor, so he joined in on the trip, but he’s got some useful survival skills. Black Eyes was part of my kingdom - she’s another barbarian, which means she’s super strong, obviously. All barbarians are strong.”

“Why did she come with?”

“Overheard us talking about the trip in Tape-Face’s tavern, and she decided to come with for some reason.”

“Why do you got mean names for all of them?” Eijirou frowned. “You brag about them, but why are you mean to them?”

“I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” Katsuki said.

“Then change your reputation,” Eijirou advised, as if really was as simple as that.

“I’ve gotta act scary to protect those I care about,” Katsuki announced. “Scares away all the villains.”

Eijirou nodded in understanding but frowned.

“That’s sad. You should be able to scare off the villains and be friends with people.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got you.”

“I’m your friend?” Eijirou asked, pointing towards himself, and he grinned when Katsuki confirmed. “Yay!”

And Katsuki left, and, while Eijirou was still bummed about it, Katsuki managed to stay for much longer than usual, so Eijirou was pretty happy about that.

At dinner, Eijirou talked about what Katsuki told him.

“He’s got a buncha people traveling with him, but he calls them all mean names,” Eijirou spoke.

“Why does he call them mean names?” Mama inquired, looking somewhat concerned.

“Uhm, he said that he wants to scare away villains to protect people. I said that was sad and that he should make friends, but he said I was his friend, so I hope that will help him make more friends!”

“And you want him to have lots of friends?”

“Yeah! Heroes shouldn’t feel lonely because, um, because they save us, and they deserve to be happy.”

Eijirou continued to chatter away about the Barbarian King, and, sure enough, Katsuki would always appear again, sometimes after a month or more, sometimes after a few weeks, and sometimes even after just a few hours. The time he stayed varied too, although more frequent visits seemed to mean shorter visits as well, although he rarely stayed for more than half an hour.

“I wanna be a dragon!” Eijirou declared when Katsuki appeared one day. “Let’s play pretend! I’ll be a dragon protecting the castle, and you’ll be the king of the castle. We’re protecting the kingdom from villains!”

“Of course we’ll win! No one’s gonna even touch our kingdom!”

“Wait! Is your dragon husband a king too?” Kirishima asked, and Katsuki blushed.

“We aren’t married yet, so no.”

“Oh,” Kirishima frowned. “You should marry him cause then he’ll be a king, and being a king AND a dragon is awesome!”

“You’re right. If I marry him, he might even become cooler than me,” Katsuki smirked. “Tell you what, I’ll propose to him the next time I see him, yeah? Then he’ll become the coolest and manliest person in the world.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou cheered.

“Hmmm, and I’ll love him with all my heart and-” Katsuki started, but he was interrupted by Eijirou making a disgusted face.

“Gross!”

“What? You were the one just encouraging the marriage,” Katsuki pointed out.

“Yeah, but the mushy stuff is gross!”

“Even if I say something like I’m going to fight side by side with him for the rest of my life?”

“Mmmm, that’s fine,” Eijirou decided. “Because it’s fighting. And a dragon king is cool. But love is all mushy and gross.”

Katsuki laughed.

“Sure is.”

“Yeah, you should just duel him instead of kiss at the wedding.”

“Sounds good to me,” Katsuki was doing his best not to laugh hysterically, but he ultimately failed, and so Eijirou started laughing along with him.

Once they finished laughing, they managed to get in a few minutes of playing pretend before Katsuki blurred and left.

That night, while Eijirou was explaining his adventures with Katsuki to his moms, he found out exactly what other people thought of Katsuki - that he was imaginary.

Something about that didn’t sit right with Eijirou. Katsuki wasn’t imaginary. He was definitely real, and Eijirou was going to prove it.

So, the next time Katsuki showed up, Eijirou set his plan into action.

“Sit down,” Eijirou ordered, and Katsuki sat down as Eijirou climbed into his lap. See! If Eijirou could touch him and be above the ground while doing so, then Katsuki was real!

“What’s this for?” Katsuki asked, absentmindedly picking up an All Might figurine that was lying around.

“Mama says you’re my imaginary friend,” Eijirou announced, looking down at his own figurine - a Crimson Riot one.

“Does she now?”

“What’s imaginary mean?” Eijirou questioned, more to have something to say than through any actual curiosity.

“It means you got what it takes to be a bard, kid,” Katsuki answered, and Eijirou immediately protested.

“I don’t wanna be a beard! I wanna be a hero!”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki let out a little laugh. “I think you’d make an amazing beard though.”

“I don’t care!” Eijirou declared.

“Too bad,” Katsuki mocked. “You’re a beard now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Noooooo!” Eijirou dramatically whined. “I’m gonna be a hero! Like Crimson Riot!”

Eijirou brandished the toy he was holding towards Katsuki.

“Is that him?”

Eijirou nodded.

“He’s got a quirk like mine.”

“Sounds like you can be his successor.”

Eijirou’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah! That’d be so cool! I’ll be, um, uh…” Eijirou froze as he did his best to come up with a hero name. “Like, Crimson Riot Jr. or something.”

“How about Red Riot?” Katsuki suggested, and Eijirou grinned.

“Perfect! I’ll be Red Riot! And I’ll protect everyone!”

“Yeah, you will,” Katsuki’s voice got garbled near the end, and Eijirou found himself falling backward, and he landed on his back. It didn’t hurt a lot, but it was very clear that Katsuki had held him up away from the ground.

Eijirou had his proof that Katsuki was real.

Eijirou saw Katuki a few more times before he arrived for the last and final time. They played superheroes and played pretend and talked.

Eijirou found out Katuki’s favorite color was orange because it was the color of fire, his favorite animal was a wolf because they represented strength, his favorite number was one because he was going to be the best at everything. His second favorite number was four because it sounded like die.

Eijirou learned that Katsuki’s hobbies included fighting monsters and kicking ass, which he apparently also got paid to do. Eijirou found out that Katsuki’s cutlass was special and that he got it from saving his lover when they first met. Eijirou didn’t get to learn as much about Katsuki as he wanted to, but he was glad when Katsuki showed up.

But the last day Eijirou saw Katsuki was the day before Eijirou started primary school.

Eijirou was nervous and excited. Nervous because he’d be starting school and excited because he would meet new people. And, while he was in his room looking over the items he had to bring with him tomorrow, Katsuki showed up.

This time, Eijirou didn’t really greet him with open arms, so Katsuki crouched down to eye level.

“Hey, Eijirou. What’s wrong?” Katsuki asked, his voice much softer than Eijirou had ever heard it.

“I’m scared to start school tomorrow,” Eijirou admitted. “What if the other kids don’t like me? What if I don’t do well? What if I don’t understand anything!”

Eijirou couldn’t help but start crying.

“What? No, no, no, shh, it’s okay,” Katsuki blabbered. “It’ll be okay.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Eijirou cried as Katsuki held him in a hug.

“Then I’ll beat up whoever makes fun of you,” Katsuki announced, and Eijirou let out a burst of choked laughter.

“Th-that’s not nice.”

“Even if they’re villains?”

“Maybe,” Eijirou said, tears still going down his face and snot starting to run. “But what if I’m not good at school?”

“Then you work at it until you are good at it,” Katsuki answered. “Becoming the best takes time and effort.”

“Okay,” Eijirou paused for a bit. “Mama’s making tonkatsu tonight. It’s supposed to bring victory for school.”

“Then I’ll be a little extra victory for you, yeah?” Katsuki responded, and Eijirou nodded slightly.

“Thank you.”

After that, Eijirou and Katsuki were silent as Eijirou clung to Katsuki. Eventually, Eijirou relaxed and ended up falling asleep.

When Eijirou woke up, he was tucked into his bed, and the sun was going down.

Eijirou remembered Katsuki’s words as he ate the tonkatsu Mama made, and he thought of them again as he went off to school the next day. He would work real hard! Then he could show Katsuki how good he had gotten at school!

But Eijirou never saw Katsuki after that day.

It wasn’t too sad of a realization, as Eijirou soon forgot about Katsuki, only remembering him as an imaginary friend he had, likely conjured from being homeschooled for his preschool education and not really interacting with too many people his own age.

Now Eijirou was working hard to get into UA to become the hero he always wanted to be. Even if he didn’t move before he could think, he could train until he did do so.

And when Eijirou got his results back, he found that he was second in the practical exam, only behind a guy who got seventy-seven villain points and zero rescue points. The complete opposite of the guy who got zero villain points and sixty rescue points.

Eijirou dyed his hair red and spiked it up for the first day, promising himself that he would live his life with no regrets.

Eijirou found the large door of the 1-A classroom and walked in, and the very first thing he saw was something that was much, much too familiar.

What the fuck!

What Eijirou saw was an angry-looking guy with blond hair that was basically the spitting image of Eijirou’s imaginary friend.

That’s not how imaginary friends were supposed to work!

After Eijirou’s initial shock wore out, he figured that it was just a strange coincidence that the blond looked so similar to the Barbarian King. He was sure that it was only a physical similarity.

That was, until Eraserhead called up the man using the name ‘Bakugou Katsuki’, and Katsuki backed the ball he threw with an explosion.

It was the same name, and the same quirk, and Eijirou had to seriously wonder if his imaginary friend legitimately became real through the power of something he couldn’t control. Maybe it was a secondary quirk that Eijirou had, or maybe he ran into someone who could make imaginary friends real, but a quirk like that would probably only create temporary people, and this Katsuki was certainly not going away any time soon.

Not to mention that Eijirou was pretty sure that the Katsuki here was much younger than his imaginary friend. The Barbarian King had been an adult while Katsuki was his own age.

But it had to be a coincidence, right? Had to be. Absolutely had to be.

Maybe it was possible that Eijirou had met Katsuki or someone he was related to when he was young, and Eijirou ended up creating his imaginary friend based on that. Yeah. That made sense, right? That made more sense than anything else anyway.

Regardless of how strange it was that Katsuki looked and acted so much like the imaginary friend he had when he was young, Eijirou ended up befriending him.

And Katsuki was amazing! Smart! Manly! Strong! And, even if he was pretty rough around the edges, to the point where he was basically a cactus, he still had a good heart. Hell, Katuski even tutored Eijirou! And he enjoyed hanging out with their friend group, no matter how much he protested that he didn’t.

Katsuki loved them, and Eijirou could tell.

But there were occasional things that happened that reminded Eijirou so much of his imaginary friend that shook Eijirou to his core whenever they occurred.

“Sparky! Tape-Face! Get over here!” Katsuki shouted, and Eijirou suddenly remembered the rude nicknames that the Barbarian King gave his traveling companions. And, sure enough, Katsuki called Mina “Black Eyes” and Kyouka “Ears.”

Katsuki would tell Eijirou certain things, and Eijirou would get the sense that he already knew the information.

It was really weird, so, one day, Eijirou decided to tell Katsuki.

“Hey, Bakugou?” Eijirou called out, leaning away from the desk to look towards Katsuki, who was on the bed.

“What do you need help with now?” Katsuki questioned.

“Ah, it’s not really anything about the material,” Eijirou admitted.

“Then why say anything?” Katsuki scoffed.

“Cause I wanna tell you something weird!” Eijirou said. That seemed to get Katsuki’s attention.

“What kind of weird?”

“You know how kids tend to have imaginary friends? Like, making up a friend, which includes their appearance and personality and background and stuff?”

“What about it?”

“Well…” Eijirou laughed a little, suddenly very self-conscious about the topic. “I had an imaginary friend when I was really young.”

“Yeah? That’s not fucking weird, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki pointed out.

“That’s not the weird part!”

“Then get to the point.”

“My imaginary friend looked like you,” Eijirou stated.

“So?”

“No! Seriously, dude! I walked into class the first day, and I saw you, and I was shocked by how similar you looked! And then you had the exact same quirk as him, and I genuinely had the thought that I ran into someone with a quirk that makes people’s imaginary friends real! Even down to the names you call people - it’s completely unreal.”

Katsuki had an expression that was a mixture between confusion and disgust.

“What the fuck.”

“That’s what I thought!” Eijirou shouted. “It was so fucking weird! And-”

“Oh, this is new,” A new voice appeared, along with The Fucking Barbarin King. Just. Appearing. Into the room Eijioru was in. Just like Eijioru remembered happening as a kid.

“What the fuck!” Eijirou screeched, and it sounded like Katsuki had the same reaction. And, apparently, so did the Barbarian King.

“Why do you look like me?” The Barbarian King demanded. “Is this some kind of trick? I’m gonna kill that fucking witch!”

“Eh!?” Katsuki growled out. “I’m the only me there is, you shitty extra!”

“Hold on!” Eijirou shouted in an attempt to stop any sort of escalation. Both Katsukis turned towards him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I was fighting a mage with space-time powers,” The Barbarian King answered.

“I know that!” Eijirou yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “But I thought you didn’t exist! I thought you were just, just an imaginary friend I had! When I was a kid!”

“I thought we established that I was very much real,” The Barbarian King said.

“Okay, okay, hold up,” Katsuki got up and held up a very dangerous palm towards The Barbarian King. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Bakugou Katsuki, The Barbarian King.”

“Bullshit! I’m Bakugou Katsuki! And what the fuck is a Barbarian King? Some kind of title you gave yourself?”

“Of course not! I’ve trained my whole life to be a king!”

“Kirishima-” Katsuki was cut off suddenly.

“You don’t call each other by your first names?” The Barbarian King questioned, his eyes widening in surprise.

“What!?” Katsuki’s palms were popping, and his face was red. “Why would we do that?”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” The Barbarian King scowled. “You’re in that stage of your relationship. Got it. Good fucking luck dealing with this emotionally-constipated mess, Eijirou.”

“Don’t call me that, you-”

Someone was knocking at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Eijirou said, getting up to grab the door.

“Hey, dude, Sero and I were wondering if, uh,” Denki had just looked at the madness behind Eijirou. “You...wanted to come…play some video games…”

“Maybe later?” Eijirou grinned sheepishly as Denki took in the scene.

“Holy shit. The squad needs to see this,” Denki proclaimed before bolting before Eijirou could discourage him from doing so.

“Sparky’s here too?” The Barbarian King asked, and Katsuki seemed to get angrier.

“Hey! Only I get to call him that!”

“Awww, Bakugou! You do care about us!” Eijirou grinned, only for Katsuki to respond with a middle finger.

“God, I just want to get back to my own world already!” The Barbarian King groaned, leaning back and shoving his hands in his hair. “And finish beating the ass of that stupid fucking time-space witch! And then propose to Eijirou!”

“To me?” Eijirou asked, only to be met with a scoff.

“Not you Eijirou! My Eijirou! The fucking dragon I told you about when you were a kid!”

“You’re gonna propose to a fucking dragon?” Katsuki questioned.

“Yes! I’m gonna propose to a fucking dragon! Gonna marry him too if I have anything to say about it!”

“Older Bakugou is going to marry a dragon?” Denki asked. The door was open and behind Denki were Hanta, Mina, and Kyouka.

“That’s AWESOME!” Mina declared, barging into the room. Soon enough, the entirety of the bakusquad in addition to The Barbarian King were in Eijirou’s room.

“Are you even real?” Kyouka stared intensely at The Barbarian King, who scowled.

“Of course I’m real! Why the fuck wouldn’t I be!?”

“I’ll be honest,” Hanta commented. “I really didn’t expect there to be an older Bakugou here like Kami said, but I guess I stand corrected.”

“Dude!” Denki’s eyes were twinkling. “We should play some video games with older Bakugou.”

“What the hell is a video game?” The Barbarian King questioned, and Katsuki grinned manically.

“Something I’m going to kick your ass at!”

“Like hell!”

Soon enough, the Bakugou squad was playing video games, and, after explaining what video games were to The Barbarian King, he was kicking everyone’s asses in the games.

“How are you this good when you didn’t even know what video games were until like ten minutes ago!?” Hanta shouted as his character got absolutely obliterated.

“Because I’m the best, obviously,” The Barbarian King gloated.

“Fuck off! I’m the best!” Katsuki retorted.

“Yeah? Then beat me in this, coward!”

“Eh!? I ain’t a coward, you bitch!”

Katsuki plopped down on the couch, grabbed a controller, and starting beating The Barbarian King’s ass into the ground.

During their rematch, however, The Barbarian King blurred and disappeared in the middle of the game, leaving Katsuki to grumble.

“Couldn’t even handle a second beating, the bastard.”

“Nah, he just can’t control the jumps,” Eijirou interjected, a statement which caused the Bakusquad to look at him in confusion. “Okay, you’ve got to give me a minute to explain.”

Eijirou gave the basic rundown of how The Barbarian King was his imaginary friend when he was young and how he had just found out that his imaginary friend was actually real and existed.

“So let me get this straight,” Mina started. “This older Bakugou just kind of...showed up in your childhood, and you just passed it off as being an imaginary friend?”

“What else was I supposed to think!?” Eijirou exclaimed. “A random adult stranger just shows up sometimes and plays with a kid? Someone would have called the cops! It’s a miracle my moms never managed to see him!”

“You know, he does have a fair point,” Hanta pointed out. “It is pretty bonkers.”

“That just makes it weirder!” Mina proclaimed. “Why didn’t you think it was weird?”

“I was a kid!” Eijirou shouted. “How was I supposed to know that was real? As far as I knew, that was how all imaginary friends worked!”

“It’s really not,” Kyouka said, causing Eijirou to groan.

“Well, I know that now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, imaginary friend stuff, blah, blah, but why the fuck was he an alternate version of me?” Katsuki questioned, and Eijirou shrugged.

“I don’t know, but apparently we’re getting married in that universe, so maybe that has something to do with it!”

“Wait! Kiri’s the dragon!?” Denki yelled. “Holy shit!”

“Awww, it’s true love!” Mina declared, only to get shut down by Katsuki.

“Shut up! True love ain’t shit!”

Kyouka nodded in agreement.

“Booo!” Mina whined. “You’re both terrible and hate love!”

“I don’t hate love!” Kyouka argued. “I just don’t think true love is a thing.”

“It totally is!” Mina countered.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Bakugou and Jirou on this one, Ashido,” Hanta admitted, a shy smile on his face. “Sorry.”

“What! Kami, Kiri, please tell me you two believe in true love! I can’t be alone in this!”

“Well,” Eijirou rubbed the back of his neck. “I like the idea of it, I guess, but isn’t it more appealing to be able to choose who to love and putting time and effort into that relationship no matter what?”

“Kiri!” Denki spoke, a tear in his eye. “That was so manly!”

“Ugh!” Mina groaned. “You’re all terrible!”

“Well, you’re never gonna find love if you don’t work for it, bitch,” Katsuki had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Don’t tell me I’ll be all alone!” Mina complained. “I just want a nice guy or girl or whatever to love and smooch a little!”

“He didn’t say you’ll be all alone,” Kyouka interjected. “He said you have to put time and effort into a relationship like Kirishima described.”

“Awww, Bakugou! You do care!” Mina jumped up in an attempt to pull Katsuki in a hug, only to be rejected.

“Stay away from me, you witch!”

“Let me love you!” Mina shouted.

“NO!”

“Guys, Bakugou clearly needs our help,” Hanta said before grinning wide. “And you know what that means!”

“Group hug!” Denki launched himself towards Katuski and Mina, knocking both of them over in the process.

“Fuck! No! Get off of me!” Katsuki screamed as Hanta and Kyouka joined in on the hug, which was now less of a hug and more just trapping Katsuki on the floor.

“Nope. You deserve this,” Kyouka said.

“I would help you out, Bakugou…” Eijirou started before joining the hug. “But that would mean missing out on a great group hug!”

“You’re dead to me,” Katsuki said, the ire fading from his voice. “You’re all dead to me.”

“Shush, you love us!” Mina gleefully cheered.

“Like hell I would ever admit it!”

“But you DO love us!” Denki yelled.

“No, I don’t,” Katsuki denied.

“Sure, and that’s why you’re hugging back,” Hanta pointed out.

“I’m going to crush you all.”

“Feel free, bro!” Eijirou exclaimed as Katsuki began his attempt to squeeze the life out of all of them. It was a little bit difficult, but fuck if Katsuki wasn’t trying.

At some point, the hug ended, and the respective members of the Bakusquad started to return to their dorms.

Eijirou walked back with Katsuki because their rooms were right next to each other, but Katsuki stopped him before he entered.

“So,” Katsuki started. “That whole imaginary friend thing was fucking weird.”

“Yeah, it really was,” Eijirou responded. “But I doubt we’ll ever see him again.”

“What about what he said!?” Katsuki’s voice suddenly raised in volume, his cheeks tinting red.

“Which thing?”

“About...him and his world’s Kirishima and all that…”

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that, Bakugou!” Eijirou claimed. He really didn’t know how to handle this conversation. Eijirou was usually really good at reading Katsuki, but, right now, Katsuki was revealing something that Eijirou had never seen from him. It was new territory.

“What if I wanna worry about it?” Katuski spoke in a rush.

“Wha? Bakugou-”

“Katsuki,” Katsuki corrected.

“Wh-what?” Eijirou stuttered, unsure if he had heard that right.

“I don’t give a shit about what that fucker in another dimension says, but, I guess, he was right about one thing. I like you, and I can’t fucking believe it’s taken me this long to tell you,” Katsuki looked Eijirou directly in the eyes, and Eijirou found that he couldn’t breathe. “So, call me Katsuki.”

“Okay,” Eijioru breathed out, not being able to say anything more.

“And I’m taking you out on a date on the weekend," Katsuki punctuated his statement by poking Eijirou in the chest.

“Okay,” Eijirou repeated, his words still stuck on the back of his tongue.

“And...I’m calling you Eijirou, alright?” Here, Katsuki got shy, his voice decrescendoing as he finished his statement.

“Okay,” Eijirou nodded. “Okay, yeah, yes. Okay.”

Eijirou took a deep breath before smiling wide.

“I like you too, Katsuki!”

“That much was obvious!” Katsuki responded, but he was still a little bashful.

“I’d love to go on a date with you!” Eijirou confirmed, now that he was finally able to get words out.

“Obviously,” Katsuki said with a wobbly voice. “Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with me? I’m great.”

“Of course you can call me, Eijirou, Katsuki.”

“Okay, Eijirou,” Katsuki said softly.

Eijirou couldn’t stop himself from grinning widely, and the brief moment of silence between the two of them was quickly interrupted as Katsuki suddenly raised his voice.

“Goodnight, Eijirou!” Katsuki pointed a finger up towards Eijirou, as if accusing him of something. “I’ll text you the details of our date!”

“Can’t wait! Goodnight, Katsuki!”

Then they parted ways, going to their respective rooms.

Once the door closed behind Eijirou, he found himself giggling and squealing to himself. He started jumping around the room as his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.

Katsuki had told Eijirou that he liked him! Katsuki wanted to be on a first-name basis! Katsuki had asked him on a date!

He couldn’t wait!

However, given that it was the start of the week, Eijirou had to wait for basically forever for the date. The days passed by like molasses, to the point where Eijirou felt like he might die of old age before the weekend.

But he didn’t. And, finally, finally, the day came, and Eijirou found himself frantically trying to find a good outfit to wear for his date.

“Kaminari!” Eijirou whined. “Please help me put together an outfit for my date! Please, please, please! I’ll owe you forever, dude!”

“Bro, you don’t need to do anything,” Denki insisted. “It’s basically in the bro code to help your bro with their date outfit.”

“Thank you so much!” Eijirou thanked, but he might have spoken too soon as Kaminari decimated his entire closet.

“Do you have anything in here that isn’t athletic-wear?”

“Uh, I think I have a suit in the back of the closet?”

“Too formal!” Denki cried. “Wait! There’s hope!”

Denki pulled out Eijirou’s Crimson Riot jacket.

“I mean, you’ll look like a huge jock wearing it, but I’m pretty sure that’s one of the few aesthetics that you won’t look super out of place in.”

“I can’t wear that!” Eijirou cried. “It’s limited edition!”

“Jackets are for wearing, Kirishima. You don’t have anything good. Please at least wear this jacket.”

Eijirou and Denki locked themselves in a staring contest that ended with Eijirou sighing in defeat.

“Thank god,” Denki then continued to rummage through Eijirou’s closet. “Please tell me you have jeans somewhere in here. Or just any long pants. I would lend you some of my own stuff, but, let’s be honest, you are way buffer than me and would probably rip everything.”

“That’s fair.”

“Although I’m sure Bakugou would go nuts over you ripping a shirt just by flexing, I’d rather the clothing you wear stay intact by the end of the date,” Denki turned from the closet to shoot Eijirou a flirtatious look. “Or maybe on the floor.”

“Shut up, Kami!” Eijirou shouted, a red flush on his face. “It’s only the first date!”

“Suit yourself,” Denki shrugged and went back to looking through Eijirou’s clothing.

After a long while, Denki managed to get Eijirou into a black graphic tee, the Crimson Riot jacket, a pair of baggy dark wash jeans kept up by a punk rock belt of Denki’s, and some combat boots.

“Holy shit,” Eijirou spoke once he saw himself in the mirror. “I look good.”

“Of course you look good!” Denki proclaimed. “I helped you with the outfit! Now, what do you think about having a little bit of eyeliner? Just to make your eyes pop.”

“I mean, I’ve trusted your judgment this far.”

“Perfect,” Denki took out some eyeliner and carefully held Eijirou’s eyelid down. “Don’t move your eyelid too much. And, there!”

“That was quick.”

“Hold still - I’ve still got to do the other eye,” Denki announced as he did the other eye. “And we’re done. What do you think? I, for one, think your date is going to end up lost in your eyes.”

“Maybe not that extreme,” Eijirou commented, a blush on his face. “But you’re right. It does look really good.”

“Hey, Kirishima, is Kami in here? I-” Mina walked into the room, and she suddenly zeroed in on Eijirou’s outfit. “Holy hell, Kiri, you’re looking fine.”

“Outfit curated by yours truly,” Denki took a dramatic bow.

“Kiri!” Mina gasped. “Are you going on a date?”

“He sure is!” Denki proclaimed.

“I can’t believe you asked Kaminari for outfit advice and not me,” Mina whined. “This is best friend erasure.”

“I can have more than one best friend!” Eijirou defended. “And, sorry, but I didn’t really trust you to put me in something that wasn’t crazy.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Currently, you are wearing a pink leopard print tank top and leggings that are split in half so one side is space and the other side is purple tiger print,” Denki pointed out. “And how could I possibly forget your famous sequined flip flops.”

“Like you’re any better with your black sweatpants and t-shirt with a lightning pattern on it!” Mina countered.

“I have a brand!”

“Just because you have a lightning quirk doesn’t mean all your clothing has to have lightning bolts on it!”

“Not all of my clothing has lightning bolts on it!” Denki defended.

“Oh, yes, I forgot all your clothing with electric type pokemon on it.”

“Hey! Pikachu is a classic!”

“But you don’t need him on your ass!”

“Guys, guys,” Eijirou interjected. “We got to stop arguing about this.”

“He’s insulting my taste in fashion despite the fact that he has a Benjamin Franklin t-shirt, which he wears without an ounce of irony,” Mina argued.

“Well, yeah,” Eijirou sighed. “But he’s better at fashion than me, and his style is a little more tempered than yours, so.”

“Why couldn’t you have asked Bakugou then?” Mina questioned. “Aren’t his parents fashion designers or something like that?”

“It’d be a little weird to ask your date for advice on what to wear on the date,” Eijirou admitted.

“What!? You two finally got together!? When did this happen and why did you not tell me immediately?”

“I wanted to wait until I actually went on the date, but then I found I desperately needed help with my outfit, so I went to Kaminari,” Eijirou quickly explained. “Please understand.”

“Alright,” Mina sighed before giving Eijirou a hard look. “Those better not be the pants with Geodude on the ass.”

“They’re not!” Denki claimed, but he looked at Eijirou’s rear to check anyway. “Yeah, they’re not.”

“I hate the fact that you had to check,” Eijirou said.

“Wouldn’t you of all people notice if you had Geodude on your butt?” Mina inquired.

“I was just putting on whatever Kaminari handed me.”

“Fair enough,” Mina shrugged. “But you better ask me for help next time.”

“Yeah, I’ll just go one by one through my friend group asking for advice on what to wear on dates,” Eijirou said. “I’ve started with Kaminari, and then I’ll ask you, and then I’ll go to Jirou, then Sero, and then I’ll go over to Tetsutetsu, and, afterward, I’ll start asking other people in our class. Eventually, it will get to the point where I’ve asked every single person in the school what I should wear on a date.”

“Maybe by the end of that, you’ll have a sense of style,” Mina said, and both Eijirou and Denki reacted to the statement.

“Ohhh, sick burn,” Denki said.

“Harsh, but probably fair,” Eijirou stated.

“But seriously,” Denki interrupted. “You should get going. Have fun on your date!”

“Wait!” Mina shouted, leaving and coming back about two minutes later. “You’ll need this!”

“Oh thank God it’s just a rock,” Eijirou breathed out. “I thought it was going to be something else.”

“It’s rose quartz!” Mina explained. “It’s for luck in love! What else would I bring you?”

There was a silence in the room before Mina realized exactly what Eijirou and Denki thought she would bring for Eijirou to take on a date.

“Just! Go on your date!” Mina flushed as she shoved Eijirou out of the room.

“Let’s go,” Katsuki spoke the moment he saw Eijirou, grabbing hold of Eijirou’s wrist and pulling him along.

Eijirou frowned.

“Oi. What’s that face for?”

Eijirou opted not to speak and instead gently guided Katsuki’s hand to let go of his wrist and intertwine with his fingers.

“We’re on a date, right?” Eijirou said as a way of explanation, and he felt a rush of victory when he saw Katsuki blush.

“I guess,” Katsuki grumbled, looking away from Eijirou. Eijirou smiled and swung their arms slightly. He did have to harden his hand slightly so that the crackling of Katsuki’s palms wouldn’t hurt him, but knowing that Katsuki was so flustered around him made Eijirou all bubbly inside.

They weren’t really able to get permission to go off-campus on such short notice, so their date mostly consisted of walking around while holding hands before getting bored and going to work out at the gym.

If Eijirou had to say, it was an amazing date. And, he did have to admit, he was very happy that his imaginary friend wasn’t so imaginary.

After all, The Barbarian King helped Eijirou date and eventually marry the love of his life. Eijirou couldn’t be happier.

---

It was a little jarring to go from seeing Eijirou as a kid to seeing him as an adult, even if Katsuki did see him as a teenager at one point. And, the more Katsuki saw of him, the weirder it was.

Katsuki stayed for a little bit each time when Eijirou was a kid, and then once for a long time as a teenager. Now, he was watching Eijirou as an adult, but almost in snapshots.

One moment he saw Eijirou chatting with friends and the next he was watching his skin turn into stone as he got hit with a hundred swords.

It was like watching his life flash before his eyes, except that it wasn’t his memories, and it was happening in real-time. Eijirou fighting. Eijirou helping. Eijirou getting married.

Suddenly, everything stopped, and Katsuki found himself surrounded by a familiar emerald forest.

“Ah, I’m home,” Katsuki and Eijirou, his Eijirou, ran up to him with tears in his eyes.

“Katsuki! You’re back!” Eijirou cried, bringing Katsuki into a tight hug as he sobbed into Katsuki’s cape.

“Yeah, yeah. No need to be dramatic. It was just a few hours.”

“I missed you,” Eijirou mumbled, and Katsuki could feel the tears on his neck, so Katsuki pulled Eijirou into a more proper hug.

“...I missed you too,” Katsuki whispered, his voice as quiet as he could get it, but it still had Eijirou pulling away from the hug suddenly to look at Katsuki.

“You missed me!?” Eijirou’s eyes again filled with tears, which Katsuki did his best to wipe away.

“Yeah, now shut up and stop crying, Ei.”

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Eijirou gave Katsuki a watery smile, the ghost of tears still on his cheeks, and suddenly Katsuki was speaking before he could think.

“Marry me.”

“What!?” Eijirou’s eyes widened in surprise, but the surprise in his face soon faded as he was right back to crying, but he was smiling joyfully. “Yes! Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Eijirou gleefully picked up Katsuki and spun around, laughing all the while.

“Put me down!” Katsuki demanded, but he was smiling as well.

Once Eijirou put Katsuki down, Katsuki spoke again.

“We’ll get married after this mission, okay?”

“Okay!” Eijirou agreed, and so they met back up with the rest of their traveling companions and finished the mission.

There were lots of ups and downs to it, and they left with plenty of scrapes and bruises, but, finally, Katsuki and Eijirou were able to have their wedding.

It would have been small, but Eijirou was excitable and insisted on inviting all the people they’d gone on adventures with over the years.

So it wasn’t small. But at least the majority of it was simple.

Katsuki and Eijirou’s outfits were the only things that weren't.

Katsuki was shirtless, as always, but he did not have sleeves, instead showing off his many tattoos, but, most importantly, the K on his shoulder that he received when he and Eijiorou started to travel together. He had a different cape on, still red, but one that had a finished edge and golden trim. His pants were simple and white, a little more tightly fitting than his usual garb, but he still wore his normal adventuring boots. His cutlass also rested on his waist.

Of course, Katsuki’s outfit would not have been complete if it weren’t for the array of necklaces he had, evidence of his conquests, along with bracelets that served to decorate his arms beyond his tattoos, not to mention his usual earrings, the ones he obtained from Eijirou himself. Finally, a crown sat atop his head, and his heart beat wildly at the thought of Eijirou receiving a matching one.

Eijirou wore armor, a red chest plate covered in designs. Runes of protection and love and good fortune adorned the armor, and the shoulder pads depicted dragon crests. Eijirou’s tattoos could be clearly seen on his arms. Like Katsuki, his pants were white, but Eijirou’s were baggier, and he had also worn his adventuring boots. Eijiou’s own weapons, his long knives, were also worn at the waist.

Eijirou’s accessories were a little more sparse than Katsuki’s, but he still wore charm bracelets on his wrists. They were decorated in offerings of goodwill. Eijirou’s hair was spiked in the usual stupid way, but it meant the earrings he wore were on clear display. They were orange to match Katsuki’s, and the way the light reflected off of them made it seem like Eijirou was glowing.

There were a few official people at the wedding - after all, this was as much a coronation as it was a wedding, and the crown that was meant to go on Kirishima’s head was resting on a soft pillow.

As the two of them reached the altar and were told to say their vows, Katsuki knew there was only one way to say them.

Katsuki moved to kick Eijirou’s leg. He made contact, and Eijirou began to fall but not before making a move that brought Katsuki down with him.

They spent about a minute freely wrestling on the ground and probably horrifying whoever made their outfits before they were questioned.

“What are you doing!?”

“Our vows, duh,” Katsuki answered as he and Eijirou continued to fight.

After another minute or so, Eijirou had Katsuki pinned, and Katsuki grinned up at Eijirou.

“We’re equals, got it?” Katsuki declared, and Eijirou responded with a megawatt grin.

“Of course!”

With that, the two of them got back up, a little dirty, and held hands at the altar. The ordainer awkwardly said that the two may now kiss, so Katsuki went in for the kill.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing his husband. Husband!

When they parted, Katsuki couldn’t help but go in for another kiss.

After the wedding ceremony, the coronation ceremony began, and Katsuki watched as his husband (!) kneeled down as someone listed off all the things a good king should do before the crown on the pillow was finally delicately placed atop Eijirou’s head.

Katsuki did have to laugh a little because the crown did somewhat mess with Eijirou’s hairstyle, but he had a hard time caring as Eijirou stood up and looked over to him.

Katsuki kissed him again. He would fight a million space-time mages for this man.

#kiribaku #bakushima #franeridart #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kaminari denki #jirou kyouka #sero hanta #ashido mina #bakusquad #bnha #my hero academia #fantasy au

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all-things-skam · 4 years

Text

Title: Three words for you

Ship: Wtfock | Robbe Ijzerman + Sander Driesen (Sobbe)

_______________

There was a nervous knot in Robbe's stomach as he lit all the candles inside his bedroom. He put them on all the safe surfaces, trying to push away the constant doubt and light form of PTSD that had drilled itself in his head.

The teenager was so paranoid about the candles that he almost threw them out and got a whole bunch of new ones, but the ecological aspect of his mind - along with his bank account status - told him it would be waste, so he ended up using these ones.

The last time Robbe made a romantic set up was for him and Noor's big night - which didn't end the way he had planned...

Although it happened weeks ago, that it was in the past now, his mind couldn't help but wander there. He feared it would happen a second time and, in all honesty, if it did, Robbe would cry. Like, a complete, full-on breakdown. With Noor, it was more of an annoyance than embarrassment. Cert, he was embarrassed, too, but, at least, there was a reason why it didn't work.

In the end, Robbe was glad that his dick didn't cooperate and nothing happened. It felt as if his brain and heart had sent a message to it, preventing Robbe from making a mistake.

Giving himself to Sander felt more right.

Checking the time on his phone, Robbe's heart started to race. Sander was going to be there in less than ten minutes.

The temperature in the room suddenly felt higher in degrees. Was because of the fire of the candles or because Robbe was really nervous? Probably both.

He took a breather, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Robbe's palms were sweaty, making him scrunch his nose before wiping them on his pants. He let out a little whine of despair and irritance, hoping it would evade his stress.

''Relax,'' Milan's voice echoed in his head.

Right before leaving for his tinder date, Milan had caught a glimpse of Robbe's room and guessed what was about to happen. Milan being Milan, he made a fuss about it, teasing Robbe about his romantic side, and gave him a handful of unsolicited advices to make his first time agreeable.

So far, he was already failing the first step.

Closing his eyes, Robbe took a deep breath and held it for five seconds before exhaling. Everything is going to be okay, he told himself like a mantra between every breaths. He repeated the technique a few times, feeling his heartbeat go back to a steady pace.

A couple minutes later, Sander pressed the doorbell button, sending Robbe in another nervous round. He sprinted to the door, almost tripping on a stray sock, and unlocked it, letting Sander in.

Like always, Sander had a bright grin on his face - his signature smile - and his hair were perfectly placed despite the wind outside. His cheeks were a bit red from the December weather, but he looked none the less handsome.

Smiling back, Robbe closed the distance and cupped Sander's face, deposing a loving kiss on his lips. ''Hi.''

''Hi.''

Kicking the door shut, Sander brought their lips back together, this time not letting go until their reach Robbe's bedroom.

From the look on his face, Sander didn't expect this kind of romantic set up. He knew that Robbe had lit some candles - he could smell the candle wicks burning -, but not this many.

Sander's silence worried Robbe, immediately assuming that he didn't like his surprise. He shouldn't have put so many candles...

''You did this for me?'' Sander asked, pulling Robbe out of his thoughts.

Robbe pulled his finger out of his mouth, a nervous habit, and looked down sheepish, nodding. ''Yeah, I just wanted it to be special for us.'' The corner of his lips tugged a little, but not quite into a full smile.

A wide grin bloomed on Sander's face and taking Robbe by surprise when he pulled him in for a languid kiss, almost knocking their heads together in his eagerness.

''It's stunning. I never took you to be such a romantic.'' Sander went in for a quick peck, fingers nested in Robbe's curls. ''That's a five stars on bookings.com for sure.''

Robbe rolled his eyes, chuckling at their inside joke.

Sander must've felt his nervousness and was trying to lighten the atmosphere, something Robbe was grateful for. Maybe it was the twitch of his eyebrow that gave him away? Or the finger in his mouth a moment ago.

A soft tune started playing, coming from Robbe's bluetooth speaker. For once, Sander had picked something else than David Bowie. Robbe smiled, the slow beat and perfectly fitting lyrics driving him into his next move.

They started slow, Sander shrugging off his jacket without parting their lips. His touch was gentle on Robbe despite the desire burning inside him, pressing their bodies closer in response to Robbe's hand grasping at his shirt.

He wanted so much more, but didn't want to rush, wanting to savour this moment and make it last as long as possible. After all, they had weren't going to have the flatshare to themselves another time soon. Getting Zoe to sleepover at Jana's without revealing his plans had been difficult enough.

Robbe's shirt left first, getting stuck around the collar. Just his luck. Sander laughed, tugging harder and let it fall on the floor on top of his jacket. He spread his hands over Robbe's smooth skin and dipped to kiss his jaw, down to his neck and collarbones, warning appreciative noises from his boyfriend.

He tried to listen to Robbe's needs, wanting this moment to be good for him, without entirely suppressing his own.

The rest of their clothes followed, peeling them off before Sander directed Robbe to the bed and crawled over him, connecting their lips. From there, the kisses were getting messy, Robbe's leg curling around Sander's lower back, trapping him as his short fingernails grazed on the older's skin. Sander didn't say anything, not minding the scratches.

Robbe broke the kiss, pulling back almost breathless. There were a million thoughts rushing through his head and it was just far too much to handle. He had to say it] before they went any farther. “Wait.''

Sander immediately went still, stopping whatever he was doing. He pulled his eyebrows, trying to get a clear look at Robbie’s face through the dim light. ''What is it?'' he asked gently with a hint of worry, the words falling off his lips in a whisper.

''I...'' Robbe bit down his lip, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words. Why was he so tongue tied? ''I-I...'' He attempted to speak up again, but nothing would come out. Embarrassed, the brunet looked down.

Sensing that something was up, Sander stopped the music. He sat on the bed and Robbe mimicked him, facing each other. He searched his face to look for any clues as to what was going through the younger boy’s mine, but Robbe wasn’t even willing to look up at him, brown irises staring down at his bare thighs.

Was Robbe having second thoughts? Or, was he just nervous? Had Sander hurt him?

''Robbe,'' Sander began, smoothing his hands up and down his boyfriend's tensed shoulders and back. ''Hey... We don't have to if you're not ready. No pressure.''

Robbe shook his head, quickly correcting Sander. ''I'm ready. I'm just nervous.'' He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage and finally looked up at Sander, staring into his beautiful eyes. ''I-I love you. I love you, Sander. So much. I haven’t felt like that about anyone before and I don't know if I'm saying it too soon or if there's an unspoken rule of a certain months of dating that we have to wait before saying it. But, I'm telling you now.'' Robbe bit his lip, drawing a short intake of breath. ''Please don't freak out.''

A bright, beaming smile appeared on Sander’s lips. ''Is that what you were so nervous about? Saying 'I love you'?''

Sander wasn't laughing at Robbe, it was just adorable - and a bit comical - that confessing his feelings made him more nervous than losing his virginity.

''That among other things...''

He then proceeded to tell Sander about his malfunction with Noor and, surprisingly, he didn't laugh. He was understanding. He gently stroked the side of Robbe’s face and even kissed his forehead multiple times. Why was Sander so good to him?

''Promise not to leave me if I can't- I-I don’t wanna disappoint you, but maybe it’s me, maybe I’m fucked up-''

Sander interrupted him midway, refusing to let Robbe finish his sentence. ''Robbe. I love you. Whatever happens...or not tonight, I'll love you still. Okay?''

Robbe exhaled, weight lifting off his shoulders. ''Okay.'' A smile curled on his lips and Sander pulled him in his arms, kissing his temple and face, causing Robbe to giggle.

After a moment, Sander gently guided Robbe down on the bed, taking back where they had left off.

#wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #sobbe #rosander #sobbe fic #robbe x sander

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thetierdslytherin · 4 years

Text

Its nice to have a friend Spencer Reid x reader

So this is a Spencer Reid song fic based on its nice to have a friend by Taylor swift. and I saw someone else to a songfic based on this song for another character and i felt inspired. there’s mention of bullying and divorce but other than that just a fluffy fic.

Mostly gender neutral reader x Spencer but at one point the reader wears a dress

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

School was finally over as the bell rang signaling the end of the day my teacher said something but I didn't hear her. No, I'm too excited to get home. It's the first day of winter break and I couldn't be more excited. I didn't really see the point of kindergarten and most of the kids are mean.

Anyways my mommy lets me walk home by myself alot of the bigger kids do and it's only a 10 minute walk to my house. I finally stop running just outside of the school yard where a lot of the kids color and draw on the sidewalk too icy to do it now which reminds me i'm not supposed to run because I could get hurt.

As I look up to continue my walk home I see a kinda frail looking boy with crooked teeth and glasses too big for his face, ah Spencer he's not in my class with me but I know him cause a lot of the kids tease him and hide his stuff. I don't really know why but my parents say if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. Besides, I don't know why they do it all he really does is sit by himself and read.

He doesn't have any gloves on or a hat and it's snowing and I'm cold with my gloves and coat so I know he is too, maybe he doesn't have any. It's not really common to snow in Las Vegas but it's probably because the kids hid them from him. I run up to catch up with him. It's not that hard, he's not exactly moving fast, he doesn't seem really excited to get home, maybe he doesn't have anything to do.

“Here take one of mine” I hold out one of my gloves to him so at least only one of his hands will be cold. He looks at me like he's expecting me to tease him or snatch the glove away at the last second but I guess he deems me trust worthy enough and takes it putting it on his furthest hand.

“t-thanks i’m s-spencer”

“I know i’m y/n you lost your gloves right?” I know the kids took them but I don't want him to feel any worse about it.

“Yeah I did thanks” he still looks really cold so I grab his hand closest to me and try to interlock our fingers so both his hands will be warm. He kinda flinches at first but then seems to accept that I'm not gonna hurt him.

“So you won't be cold Spencer”

We walk for maybe a minute in silence before I get another idea

“Wanna hang out?”

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

I'm now i'm second grade and Spencer is in third and ever since that day we've been best friends and do practically everything together and this is the first year without him in my grade and I miss him a lot but we still hang out everyday after school.

“C’mon Spencer it won't be bad I promise my parents are right inside and if you want to go you can but could you please try it”.

I'm referring to spending the night in a tent in my backyard.Sleepovers were a common thing for Spencer and I especially with his dad having left I think that's why he likes being over so much it lets him forget for a little while.Earlier this week I learned Spencer had never been camping due to his thing with germs but after a lot of begging and secret planning on my part he agreed “okay y/n but if I don't like it we can go in?”

I nod happily and lead him to the backyard where everyday after school I've been cleaning it and setting up a campsite in the cleanest way possible. “Did you know that 77 million american households contain a member that camps and 81% of households in America say they want to camp more?”

“No, I didn't Spence, do you have any more statistics about camping for me?’ this is one thing I love about him he can tell you something about any subject you ask him it's because of his Eidetic memory.He found out he had last year and its super cool he can remember and fact I wish I had his memory some times.

I open the tent to reveal an air mattress with a bunch of blankets and some comic books my mommy bought earlier. It's not the big books like he likes to read but it's Marvel comics that I introduced him to a few months ago and we've been reading them together ever since.

“w-wow y/n this is so cool, did you know the hulk was supposed to be grey in the original comics but was changed to green after a mess up with printer ink?”

“No but i'd love to hear more comic facts”

He deserves someone to listen to him after everything with his parents and all the kids at school bullying him. I don't want him to ever feel alone.

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

It's amazing how two people who are in such different places in their lives can still love each other so much while Spencer is the only 16 year old I know with 2 phds working on another i'm still in highschool. Not from lack of hard work though i’m graduating this year 2 years early so I can go to cal tech to be with Spencer. If i'm being perfectly honest if not for Spencer I wouldn't be graduating early but I miss him too much to stay any longer. I'm sick of highschool boyfriends and football games and dealing with the same kids who bullied Spencer for being a nerd acting like we’re best friends just because I made nice with them.

Right now were on the roof of my house after a lot of convincing on my part to get him out here

“Why are we out here y/n do you know how many roof related accidents happen a year?”

“No but I'm sure you do dr.” I think my favorite pastime of recent is teasing Spencer.

He's saying something to me as I nod along but I'm not paying attention to what he's saying. No, I'm too busy staring at him.

He's really grown into his features he still has a boyish look about him but now his jawline is very defined and his brown hair goes just past his hair curling at the ends after a long day of hanging out the gel has worn out making his hair as messy as ever and he’s traded his glasses for contacts but i still think he looks for lack of better word beautiful either way. I know I love him, I've loved him since the first day I met him and over the years at one point I guess the feelings went from platonic to romantic but I don’t tell him. I don't have to I know i'll spend the rest of my life with Spencer Reid

“y/n y/n hello”

“Hmm, what were you saying Spence?”

“I-i’m sorry am i boring you y/n?” the worst part is he's not mad about it he looks upset like he feels bad for boring me.

“No never, i'm sorry I was just thinking”

“About what?”

“You” why did I say that but it's fine it has to be Spencer won't care but I don't want to see his reaction to my words instead focusing on the pink orange sky

“You know I love you right that i'll always love you”

I feel him grasp my hand interlocking our fingers and I let out a quiet gasp-but he heard it. We've only held hands twice our whole lives the first day I met him and after the goal post incident so this is well, completely out of character for him and our friendship.

“I love you too y/n”

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Feels like home, stay in bed

The whole weekend

They call us stupid-young and dumb-that well be divorced in 10 years but we love each other and known each other our whole lives hes just been accepted into the BAU at 20 he has to move to Quantico. I'm gonna go with him I can get a job i've finished my degree there's nothing keeping me here.

“Let's get married”

“What?” it's rare that I make him speechless but this seems to do the trick.

“Why don't I love you and you love me. We've been dating for how many years now 4? I want to spend the rest of my life with you i've known that I wanted you in my life since that first day on the sidewalk I want to grow old with you and have kids and grand kids so why wait let's get married” I look up at him silently pleading with him to just agree with me.

“y/n 45% of marriages end in divorce and 20% of couples under 24 get divorced in the first year of marriage”. He’s cautious I don't blame him not after what happened with his mom and dad.

“Well this is one time i'm going to ask you not to trust the statistics. I may not know all the facts about marriage and life but i know us and i'd like to think that's enough. I don't want anything big just us we can go down to the courthouse and make it official”

He moves over to the couch where i'm sitting and grabs my hand “yes”

It wasn't anything big, him in the only suit he owns and me in a dime store wedding dress. The rings we have are cheap and the diamond in my hand may have been small but it means everything to me.

We didn't even tell our parents why his mom is institutionalized, his dad left and my parents don't approve of me leaving for Quantico instead its Spencer and I with 5 of our college friends. We both walk out of the courthouse as they throw rice at us-unnecessary but sweet of them-and get into his car driving off to go home. We aren't having a honeymoon unless you count moving to Quantico.

He picks me up and carries me through the threshold of the apartment as he sets me down I ask “can we do our vows I know we both agreed not to prepare anything don't worry I didn’t I just want to tell you some things and you don't even have to say anything back I just need to say it. Spencer I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you and all you’ve acomplised and overcome even the first time I saw you I could tell we were gonna be friends.I am just so thankful to have you here right now and for sticking with me through all of the chess matches and late night adventure and stupid boyfriends and what I guess i’m trying to say is thank you for always being you I love you.”

I look at him with tears in my eyes and with tears in his eyes too and he clears his throat “ y/n I will never be able to express how you have helped me over the years from school yard bullies to cal tech and my mom.And I know i'm not the best with words i'm better with analysis and fact but there is no fact or statistic that will let me describe how i'm love with you I am” I put one hand on the side of his face and pull him in for a kiss.

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

It's nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #childhood friends #comfort

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thefloralpeach · 4 years

Text

Bird Set Free- a Reddie Superpower AU

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier | Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Words:7454 | Chapters:1/?Hits:0

Summary:

Richie Tozier grew up to be a hero. Eddie Kaspbrak grew up without anyone there to save him. What do you get when you cross an angry vigilante with a hero who’s just trying his best?

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335246/chapters/55900111

It started out as a conspiracy, and quickly turned into national controversy.

Nobody’s sure exactly who was the first case- abilities manifesting at a young age, anywhere between seven and seventeen. Videos surfaced of young kids doing extraordinary things, some of which people assumed was photoshop, but some of which occurred on live social media videos. The videos increased in frequency, the reports of strange happenings poured in every day, and eventually the government had to come out with a public statement.

Apparently, superpowers exist now.

It was the only thing anyone could talk about for a solid year. As a middle schooler, all you could do was wait to see if you were next.

The Losers often found themselves in conversation about what powers they hoped to have.

“I hope I get shapeshifting. I’d turn into the hottest motherfucker this world has ever seen and take over the world,” Richie would say.

Eddie never talked about it much, but he thought it might be nice to be immune to sickness. That way, maybe his mother would let him leave the house more… Or, maybe walking through walls would serve that purpose. He just wanted to be able to do what he wanted, and not be forced under her wing.

It was eighth grade when Eddie began to despise this hero stuff.

Instead of continuing his education with his friends, his mom decided to pull him out of school due to the fear that someone with powers would hurt him. She said that his ‘no good friends’ would end up accidentally hurting him, or some ignorant kid would get their power suddenly and Eddie would be a victim of it. Even when he reminded her that ability prevalence rates were pretty low, of course nothing could sway her.

So he said goodbye to seeing his friends in school, and hello to meeting up with them at every other possible moment; until his mother decided that was also too dangerous. So, he remained in his house like a prisoner.

His friends visited though, of course they did. Eddie had a window, and the Losers were pretty good at climbing. Besides, Eddie didn’t think anything could keep Richie from finding him and bothering him.

It’s a gross, rainy night when Richie makes a promise.

It starts with pebbles thrown at his window- Richie’s signature greeting. Eddie tries not to think about how cheesy and romantic it is, but the thought crosses his mind anyway.

He opens the window, and is promptly met with Richie shaking out his wet hair like a dog. Eddie makes a disgusted noise, which only draws laughter from the taller boy.

“You sure your ability isn’t being gross and annoying?” Eddie asks as Richie finishes climbing in, almost stumbling over his own feet. He clutches his hands to his chest, feigning hurt.

“I can not believe you would insinuate something so hurtful, Eddie my love!”

Of all the nicknames in Richie’s arsenal, that one is definitely the worst. Eddie can be annoyed by Eds or the ever-popular Spaghetti, but when he pulls out something so cliche that it could be in a romcom, Eddie’s heart always skips a beat. He hates it. And he also loves it.

Richie’s pulling stuff out from his backpack before he’s even sat on Eddie’s bed. It became a sort of tradition for Richie to bring Eddie some stuff that his mom wouldn’t let him have whenever he visited.

“What’s in the magic bag tonight?” Eddie asks, eyeing the bag of all-pink starbursts Richie already pulled out.

“Candy, of course,” Richie narrates, pulling out a bag of gummy worms and a jumbo snickers bar. “I also got you this cool magazine that talks about abilities and heroes, and this week’s newspaper.”

Richie would often bring Eddie stuff to read, stuff that clued him into what’s going on outside. Eddie’s mom allowed him a computer, but no internet, so Eddie relied on his friends for information about the world. It was a simple act that he cherished so much.

“Oh- I also made you this!” Richie announces, pulling out a CD from his bag. The cover is decorated with some crude doodles, and labelled ‘songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’. He tosses it to Eddie, who immediately bursts into laughter.

“A CD? Isn’t that a bit old school?”

Richie puts his arms up in defense. “Well, you don’t have internet or a damn phone, so what was I supposed to do? Send you a Youtube playlist?”

Eddie shrugs. “Alright, fair enough.” He ignores the way his heart quickens at the thought of Richie compiling a playlist for him. “So, what’s on it?”

“Ah, you need to play it to find out, my deah!” He responds, slipping into a hilariously poorly-accented Voice. Eddie shakes his head, covering his mouth in a weak attempt to muffle his laughter. “I have something else for you, too.”

Eddie calms himself then, and quirks an eyebrow up. “Do I wanna know?” He asks cautiously. Richie was known for following words like that with a wet willy or a pinch to his cheeks. But, the jokester only smiles in response.

“Yes, you do! How would you like to sneak out of here with me some night?” Richie offers, and Eddie’s eyes light up. “We can head over to the clubhouse-”

“God, you guys still have that?”

“Yes! We can go hang out there, and all the others will be there too! And we can get a pizza since we know you’ve been force fed, what, gluten-dairy-nut-free bullshit?”

Eddie laughs, so giddy and over the moon with excitement that he ignores his health concerns. Richie doesn’t think his allergies are real anyway, and Eddie isn’t so sure he disagrees. Regardless, how could he even think to be concerned about such trivial things when he has the chance to escape, to spend some time outside for the first time in months?

Of course, Eddie agrees to go. They make plans for the weekend, when Sonia would be at bingo night. Richie and the others would sneak around and help him out the window, and Eddie could sit on the back of one of their bikes on the way- since his own bike had been given away once he was put on house arrest. Eddie gives Richie a list of his favorite bands so Richie can make a playlist for the night, and together they plan a list of snacks to have. They pick out some choice movies as well, since Ben had said he could rent a projector from the library for the night.

Eddie’s never been so excited for something in his entire life.

Friday comes after what seems like forever, and his mom leaves for bingo, and Eddie waits excitedly in his room. He reads a comic book to pass the time until 5 o’clock comes.

And then 6 o’clock comes.

Then 7 o’clock.

Something probably happened… maybe they couldn’t get away from their parents in time, so they just had to push things back.

8 o’clock.

9 o’clock.

And then Eddie’s mother pulls into the driveway, and he’s pissed. He’s angry, he’s furious, he’s…

Crushed.

Saturday comes and goes, but nobody visits him.

Sunday is the same.

Eddie’s mother asks why he’s spending so much time in his room, and asks if he’s sick- he struggles to invent a lie that she’ll believe. So he tells her the truth- that he’s sad, that he misses his friends. Not that she does anything to help (“Oh honey, you’re so much safer without them anyway”), but she does leave him alone to brood.

This is the first week in months that he didn’t get a word from any of his friends. He’d never gone more than two days without Richie visiting him, but in the coming years, this would become the new normal.

For the next few years, the only company Eddie has is his mother. His overbearing, absolutely psychotic mother, who put helicopter moms to shame.

It’s a month after Eddie’s abandoned that he’s able to catch a newscast while his mom naps in the middle of the day. It’s the 4 o’clock news, the headline reading ‘Superhero Madness: New Ability Registration Mandate to Pass, Increasing Regulation on Enhanced Abilities.’

He’s reading comic books, stories about real superheroes. The media outlets he’d seen were all over calling this new phenomenon the “Age of Heroes” and shit that Eddie finds absolutely ridiculous. So a kid can learn things really quickly or make magnets stick to them- Spiderman is still cooler. Spiderman just wants to save people, he wants to save anyone who needs it, even those overlooked by other heroes. Spiderman doesn’t care about being big and flashy. He’s a real hero- not like these wannabes.

Regardless of his opinions, he tunes his attention to the news for a moment. It’s not often he actually gets to see what’s going on outside of his prison cell of a home.

“… Required not only to register their abilities, but to train at government-approved facilities. Officials say this mandate will assure that these enhanced individuals learn to manage their abilities, thus ensuring their safety and the safety of others. Opposition has arisen as well…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Government-approved facilities? Please. This is the least cool backstory he’s ever heard. Then he remembers, this isn’t a backstory. Because this isn’t some cool hero story. This is real life, and in real life, his friends left him, and no hero is coming to save him.

It’s two years later when he manifests a power of his own.

The newscasts he’d been able to watch intermittently had reported that abilities seem to appear between the ages of ten and sixteen, as if a part of puberty. It made enough sense, Eddie figured at the time. He assumed after his thirteenth and fourteenth years passed that he’d never manifest anything- but he’d been wrong.

It’s nothing special, of course. He’s watching something on TV, not even the news or anything special, just some reality show, when he notices a weird light. He looks around, thinking at first that a lamp was suddenly turned on, but he quickly realizes it’s emitting from the palms of his hands.

“Huh…” he mutters. Light hands. Some freaking power, huh?

They don’t appear to do anything besides glow every so often. He debates whether or not to tell his mother, but ultimately he decides to hide it. What good would telling her do, anyway? What did he expect, praise? Comfort? No, he knew he would get nothing less than an hour of rambling about how much she now had to worry about, how much it would drain his energy, how much they had to fear from a soft little glow.

So, he hides it.

As much as he hates his stupid glowy hands at first, it starts to become a rather welcome feature.

He no longer has to hide a flashlight in his room for when he wants to read in bed- his own hands suffice now! Well, when he can get them to turn on, which isn’t all the time. He starts to understand all the hype he’d been seeing on the news about controlling abilities- if this were something dangerous, Eddie would surely be in some deep shit.

Every now and then, Eddie gets the gaul to ask his mom about things that he knew he wasn’t supposed to- if he could go out with her when she grabbed something, if he could return to school now that abilities are more regulated, if he could just go for a bike ride like he used to. The answer is always no, of course.

The only time he’s allowed out of the house is for visits to the doctor, which have also become less often for some reason. Eddie wonders why his medications remain the same even though he’s being seen less.

Sometimes, his mom gets tired of his curiosity.

“Eddie, you know why you have to stay in here, you know it! I can’t risk losing you, Eddie-bear. Do you know how many people are being attacked every day by these new monsters?!”

“But mom-”

“I don’t let you watch the news because it’s so terrible, every day there’s more attacks and more people sick and dead , I just can’t bear it!”

Eddie wants to tell her that he sees the news when she doesn’t think he’s watching, that things are starting to stabilize, that crime rates haven’t actually gone up that much and that people aren’t actually being attacked- but of course she doesn’t let him get a word it. It’s part of her defense against Eddie trying to fight back.

“Mom, listen to me, please -”

“Do you want to do that to me? Eddie-bear, you know how hard it’s been after I-” she sniffles for effect, “After I lost your poor father. I can’t risk losing you too, honey, you know that-”

“Mom will you just listen to me?!” He raises his voice, earning a gasp from his mother. The look on her face is almost scandalized. He doesn’t realize why until he gestures in frustration with his hands, and he notices a familiar glow. “I just want-”

“EDDIE!”

She interrupts him, running over and fawning over him until his glow dims and eventually fades. He’s bombarded with questions about how this could have happened, how could she ever let him out now, how they had to make extra sure to be careful, blah blah blah. He promptly loses all hope of ever getting out of there.

She corrals him to the stairs and up to his room, her shrill voice running nonstop the entire time. Eddie tries to tune it out, but it’s hard- she’s persistent, and his hopes are crushed. He hears the lock on his door click as she leaves.

Eddie barely notices the glow of his hands as he punches his pillow. He spends ten, maybe twenty minutes just punching, screaming, doing what he can to get his frustration out. Once he slows down, giving his poor bedsheets a break, he realizes that the glow has spread to just above his elbows.

“Stupid fucking glowy hands…” he mutters, glaring at them as if that would get it to stop. Of course, it doesn’t.

With a sigh, Eddie drags himself over to his bookshelf, grabbing something that sounds mildly interesting so he could distract himself from his stupid emotions and his stupid situations and his stupid hands. As he glances over the other options, his eyes land on something he hadn’t looked at in years- Richie’s mix CD. ‘Songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’. The glow in his hands fades as Eddie traces over the shitty doodles on the cover, and a ghost of a smile settles on his face.

He’s still pissed off that everyone abandoned him. He’s confused, he’s frustrated, he’s angry and he’s hurt- but most of all, he’s nostalgic. More than anything, he misses his friends, and he just wants it all back. He likes to think that there’s a good reason that they left him, and that they’ll be reunited one day and everything will be happily ever after- but he also knows that’s just a lot of wishful thinking.

Eddie breaks his thoughts by popping the CD into the player on his radio, pressing ‘play’, and flopping on his bed.

He closes his eyes, smiling to himself as the first notes of the song drift into the room. The CD plays on repeat until Eddie falls asleep for the night.

The next day, Eddie is horrified when his mother hires someone to install bars on his bedroom window. It’s for your safety, Eddie, she insists. The government is getting involved now, I can’t let them take you away.

But he knows they wouldn’t take him away. He knows he isn’t that lucky.

And he has the sneaking suspicion that his mother would have installed the bars whether or not the government was a concern.

Eddie’s hands don’t glow as bright anymore after that, though he isn’t sure why. Maybe he hated that stupid power so much that it’s in the process of disappearing- he hopes that’s the case. If he can prove he’s normal, then maybe one day he can leave.

In the next year, Eddie catches many newscasts about ability regulation. He managed to convince his mom to let him watch the news a little bit, because current events was something he had to be versed on in order for his home school requirements. She wasn’t happy about it, but ultimately he gets to watch the news more regularly now.

It’s something Eddie never quite cared about, news. When he was twelve and thirteen, the news was the most boring thing he could ever think of watching. But now, it’s a connection to the world he no longer gets to be a part of.

The last he’d heard, a few months back, was how the government had started allowing those with trained abilities to register as heroes. Their official title was something boring, of course- The National Force of Enhanced Individuals or something dumb like that. But everyone calls them heroes. Crime rates had been steadily decreasing since they passed the bill creating the force, and maybe, just maybe Eddie gets his hopes up when he hears that.

He hasn’t asked his mom about going outside in a while, but during this newscast, he thinks maybe he has a chance…

“So, that’s great, huh?” Eddie ventures from his spot on the couch, looking expectantly at his mother.

She’s sitting in her recliner, as she does most of the time, her attention on some magazine rather than the television. In response, she hums in question, not even bothering to look up.

“The- the Force of Enhanced Individuals…” he gestures to the screen. “Seems they’re lowering the crime rate. That’s great, right?” He cautiously explains, wary of the fact that this conversation could go to hell at any second.

She raises an eyebrow, glancing at Eddie for only a mere second.

“I suppose so, yes. It’s about time these streets got safer. You never know what could happen out there.”

Eddie pauses for a moment.

“So… it seems like things are more regulated now. More than they were a few years ago, I mean…”

She puts her magazine down then, switching her focus over to Eddie. “Eddie-Bear, I know you’re not trying to ask me to leave again, right? Because you know we’ve talked about this. You know why you have to stay here.”

And, there goes his plan.

His eyes are pleading, and he tries his best to sound reasonable, to make a point.

“I don’t- I don’t want to go far, just… I want to be outside more than just doctors visits, Mom! It’s not healthy for me to stay in here-”

“Don’t use your health on me! I know everything about your health, Eddie, and I know that you’re much better off in here, safe. ”

“I just want to go- go to the store with you maybe, or the library, or hang out in the backyard- I mean look, Mom, crime rates are down more than they’ve ever been! Heroes are protecting people!”

“Stop asking, Eddie.”

Her voice is so calm, so sure that Eddie feels like he wants to explode. He clenches his fists, and again, that familiar glow is back.

“No! I shouldn’t even have to ask, Ma!”

“Don’t you start this with me-”

“Most kids my age are outside all the time! They go to school, they go out with their friends, they do things! I don’t even know where my friends are!” He yells back, ignoring her retorts.

“Your friends don’t come here anymore, and it’s better for you that way! They were terrible influences, you don’t need them, Eddie-”

“I’d like to know where they went, why they left! I’d like to have the chance to look for them at least! Christ, Mom, this is a prison!” He gesticulates wildly in front of himself, pleading with his hands without noticing that they’re exactly why he won’t win this fight.

“Eddie, do not raise your voice with me. You’re scaring me, honey!” Eddie knew this tone well. “Why don’t you go upstairs and calm-”

“I DON’T WANT TO CALM DOWN, MA!”

As he yells, he swiftly throws his hands down to his sides, and something happens.

He can’t put words to it, but he feels a sort of tingling heat in his hands, and the next second he hears a crash- no, two crashes, one on each side of him.

Everything is silent for a moment, even his mother. Her mouth hangs open, though no words come out, and she’s looking at Eddie with something between shock and horror on her face. She turns her attention to Eddie’s left, and instinctively, he does the same.

There’s a visible dent in the wall there, as if somebody strong had punched it. Almost cautiously, Eddie turns his head to the other side, and notices an equal dent in the cabinet. Each dent is equal height, and Eddie knows what happened.

He’s still processing it, and he doesn’t want to be right, but he knows.

“Eddie…”

Her voice is so low, Eddie barely processes it. His eyes glance between the dents, then to the floor.

“Yeah… I’ll go to my room.”

After that, his visits to the doctor decrease exponentially so, only once every few months. But he’s given more medication than he’s ever had before. Given his little ‘condition’, he’s not surprised. It’s probably messing with his system somehow, and the medicine is helping with symptoms he hasn’t even noticed yet.

He feels tired all the damn time, even though he goes to bed early and wakes up a little on the later side. When he’s not doing his work or watching something completely idiotic that his mom insists he must join her for, he’s either napping or staring into space. It’s annoying- maybe that’s one of the things that the medicine is helping. Or maybe he’s just fucking depressed, who knows.

He’s also confined to his room most of the time, and his mom locks the door when she goes out. After his outburst, he assumes she doesn’t trust him, and he can’t be too mad this time, he knows. She’s just trying to keep him safe, of course.

He doesn’t have much schooling left. He still gets to watch the news for current events, but only when supervised by his mom. And, it’s better than nothing. He does okay on the work he’s given, although he knows it’s all minimum-effort curricula.

He has video games to keep him occupied, and a fair amount of books. His mom gets him things sometimes while she’s out, which is nice of her.

He’s also been trying to control his abilities.

Maybe it’s stupid. All he has are glowy hands… but he knows they’re capable of something else if they were able to mess up the walls that day. And if he knows anything about superpowers from the comics he reads, he knows that it’s much better for everyone if he controls this thing before he accidentally learns more about it.

It takes a lot of work to learn how to make them glow on command. It takes a lot of focus, and a solid month before he actually does it for the first time when he wants to, instead of it just appearing.

Awesome- now he can use his own personal flashlight whenever he needs it. Whenever his mom says “lights out” at 10pm and he still isn’t tired, or when he drops something and doesn’t have a phone flashlight to help him find it.

And it’s cool, it’s a great feeling actually, to be able to have a little bit of control over this shit. But it’s not enough.

Eddie’s mom is out grocery shopping, so naturally he’s locked in his room. He dreams one day of being able to blast the door open somehow, but he’s far from that. He dented the walls a little bit exactly one time, so he’s not exactly the pinnacle of power here.

But… maybe someday he could be.

A stool sits by Eddie’s window as a perch. He sits down as he opens his window, thankful that the weather is warming up, and for a moment he forgets his goal here. The open window is the closest he gets to being outside anymore, and every time he smells the natural air, he finds himself longing for the days he used to spend out in it. He misses biking around town, he misses the barrens, he misses the clubhouse in the forest. But a window is better than nothing.

He physically shakes his head to refocus himself.

Outside his window are several trees- his targets. It’s almost surreal, realizing exactly what he’s about to do, but he knows it’s important.

“Focus…” He whispers to himself, nestling his arm between two of the metal bars that lined his window now. He rests it lightly on the windowsill, spreading his palms as if trying to use the force.

Except, this isn’t the force. He’s not drawing anything to him, he’s trying to push it away .

His hands glow, which is no longer anything special to him. He figures they’ll glow brighter as he focuses more, as he prepares for… well, whatever he’s capable of, but at the moment, he doesn’t notice anything.

Thoughts keep crawling into his mind- how much he wishes to go back outside, to see his friends again, to have friends again.

As his mind wanders, the glow spreads up his arms, gradually becoming lighter. But, he’s not focusing. He’s reminiscing, he’s yearning for what he once had, and what he could have if he wasn’t in this stupid fucking house.

Wait, no.

Eddie shuts his eyes tight, willing the thoughts from his mind.

“I said focus, dammit.”

When he opens his eyes, he stares at the tree in front of his window, aiming his hand at it. He takes a deep breath, thinks of nothing but the tree, and-

And nothing happens.

Clenching his fist for a moment, he takes another breath and decides to try again. Hand through the window, eyes on the tree, focus on power. Mind clear, hand glowing, energy flowing, and…

Still nothing.

Eddie tries this for a solid half an hour before he gives up, slumping over his stool and resting his head against the bars. Maybe that weird blast thing was just a fluke, and there was no way to control it. Or, maybe it’s based on like, what he eats, or what he does during the day. Maybe he has a lot more investigating to do before he can actually make his powers do anything besides give him glowy hands.

The world outside the window catches his attention again, and he spends some time just watching it. It’s a nice day out; he can hear kids playing down the street, birds chirping, he can see squirrels and chipmunks scampering around, and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. Four years ago, he’d have been all over a day like this- riding his bike, relaxing in the barrens or by the quarry with his friends…

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that his front door is locked from the outside, that his own bedroom door is locked to keep him in, and that he’s a prisoner in his own home. It’s not fair that the only thing he wants to do is get out, to run, but he can’t. He’d trigger his asthma anyway.

It’s not fucking fair that he can’t even escape out of a window because there are fucking bars on it, it’s not fucking fair that everyone he knew, everyone who was ever kind to him had just up and left him why would they do that? Why did they do that?

(Eddie’s hands glow brighter, but he doesn’t notice.)

Was he really so forgettable that his friends could move on so easily? Or was that his mom’s plan all along? Had she told them to fuck off one day, and they all just listened? The school district still has to check on him regularly to make sure his mother is following the law- had they really noticed nothing? Or had he just never been worth the second thought?

(His hands are shaking, still resting on the windowsill.)

Richie made him a damn mixtape, for christ’s sake! A mixtape! You don’t do that for people you don’t care about, you don’t do that and then abandon them, forget about them, leave them to their warden of a mother and a lifetime of no real fucking human interaction.

(There’s a faint vibration in Eddie’s palms.)

Eddie clenches his jaw, runs his hands through his hair before placing them back between the bars, and shuts his eyes.

Fuck heroes. Fuck superpowers. Fuck this whole organization, the one that spiked fear into everyone and feeds off of it. Eddie’s mom is scared, now Eddie has to suffer for it, and there’s nobody coming to save him. These people have the balls to call themselves heroes, but who the hell are they saving?

“Fuck…”

(His palms brighten.)

“FUCK!”

Eddie slams his hands down against the windowsill and feels it before he sees it. Energy. Pure energy. And it came right from his hands, he knows it did.

The glow of his hands dimmed to a dull shimmer, and there’s an obvious dent in the tree that had been perfect just a minute before.

Like last time, everything is still for a moment, oddly quiet. Eddie can only stare ahead of him at the injured trunk. He flicks his gaze to his hands, still tingling, still glowing.

So. That’s how his power is going to work, then.

After a few months of “good behavior”, Eddie’s mom stops locking him in his room when she goes out. It’s a start, he figures.

He “graduates” that spring, but there’s no ceremony, no speeches, no cap and gown. He gets a cupcake though, which is nice.

The news is still filled with stories about heroes, about thrilling stories of rescue, about new agencies funding research and training and about crime rates plummeting. It’s all good news in theory, but Eddie can’t help the pings of jealousy he feels for all the happy people he sees rescued.

Rescued.

Nobody’s come to rescue him. Nobody even looks for a situation like his- it’s not a flashy villain he needs to be rescued from. He’s in no mortal danger, not even any physical danger in all honesty. But does that make him any less miserable?

No.

And how many other kids are in similar situations? How many other people need saving, but are ignored for all this flashy hero and villain fantasy shit? Eddie thinks about these things a lot. But it’s not like he can do anything about it.

Something good, he guesses, is that he’s gotten better at damaging that poor tree outside his window. The trunk and some of the wider branches have visible scars, though they still aren’t much. Maybe he’s confined to small blasts or something, but it’s still kind of cool.

So his powers are tied to emotions? Good. He’s got a lot of those. And he thinks about them when he wants to channel his energy- that must be what his power is, technically. Energy.

It makes sense that he’s exhausted after he practices, in that case. He tries not to show it, though- he doesn’t want his mom to have any more reason to worry about him or keep him confined.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon in July when she runs to the store, and Eddie gets a few hours to himself for what he’s been calling target practice in his head. He doesn’t know what he plans to do with his tiny blasts of energy, but he figures it’s better to be able to have some sort of handle on them than to just have the ability to do it and no idea how.

Like always, he’s tired after he fires off a few blasts- both physically and emotionally. He thinks about those news stories, the smug faces of all those self-proclaimed heroes. He thinks about his situation, how he longs to leave, how he may as well be in an actual prison. It’s good stuff to keep in his mind when he wants to practice, but it’s hard to come down from, and it always just reminds him of how fucked his life is.

Sighing, Eddie pushes himself off his stool, taking a moment to stretch his arms over his head. A snack and a nap sound absolutely perfect right about now, so he decides to do just that.

He pads out of his room and downstairs, a little tempted to turn on the TV, but he was sure his mom would have some way of figuring out that he’d done it- she probably had cameras or something installed, or motion sensors, or a battery monitor on the remote. Something weird and over controlling, of course. It’s expected by now.

While Eddie rummages through the pantry, he understands why his mother had to go out. They were low on snacks of pretty much every kind, and he was gonna have to make something if he actually wanted food. Maybe pasta, that was an easy choice.

Spaghetti.

The voice of an old friend echoes in Eddie’s head, and he finds himself smiling softly before he closes the pantry door.

If he’s gonna make something, he may as well check to make sure they have cooking spray, and maybe some spices. Not that Eddie’s the best cook ever, since he’s not often allowed in the kitchen, but if he has to make something he’d rather it be edible and not something bland that sticks to the pot.

Okay, so he has no idea how to use spices besides like, salt and garlic, but he can still experiment.

Step one- learn where the spices are.

Eddie isn’t allowed to cook, really. Anything he’d done, he’d done while his mom was out. And it’s not like she’s the lord of good cooking, so Eddie’s also pretty amateur.

Finally, he opens a cabinet and finds some usable stuff next to the nonperishables. Garlic powder, some extra salt and pepper, oregano, basil, some extra baking soda and baking powder… and some old pill bottles? He takes the containers to inspect them, curious.

One of the bottles is labelled Phenobarbital, and the others Lorazepam.

That’s Nembutal and Ativan.

Sedatives.

His first thought is, obviously, that they’re just more medications lying around the house. It wouldn’t be surprising, since his mother seemed to always be going to another doctor, and she used to take him nearly once a week.

His second thought is that they had a set medicine cabinet, one that was organized by need. Why would she move them to a food cabinet instead?

And his third thought is one that scares him to death. Suddenly, he’s wondering if it’s not his powers that are making him feel drained.

Because, what had his mother ever needed sedatives for? Sure, one doubles as an anxiety medication, but there’s no way in hell Eddie is lucky enough for his mom to actually seek help for her paranoia.

Tentatively, Eddie opens one of the bottles, and he recognizes the pills as ones he’s given… often.

His breaths quicken, and he wants his inhaler but it’s upstairs- and is it even an inhaler? Or is there something else in there that his mom didn’t tell him about?

Suddenly the bottle is shaking in his hand, his fist clenched around it as the pills rattle around inside. And suddenly, it’s much brighter in the room than it was before. He feels a familiar vibration in the palm of his hands.

“Eddie-bear!”

He hadn’t even heard the door open. But he heard that voice. Her voice. That grating, shrill, helicopter voice. It only gets worse once she finds him in the kitchen, her footsteps quickening as she rushes over to him.

“Eddie-bear, what are you doing? What’s going on honey, put that down, you need to take your pills and go to your room-”

Eddie’s eyes are glued to the bottle.

Sedatives. Fucking sedatives .

He knew she didn’t trust him, but he didn’t think it would have come to this. He never thought she’d flat out lie to him like this.

His jaw is clenched, and he swallows down a lump in his throat as his mother keeps babbling.

“What the fuck is this, ma?”

She gasps as if scandalized. As if she has the right to be shocked, or to be upset at anything Eddie does after pulling this shit.

“Eddie- honey, you know that’s just your medicine. You’re sick -”

“These are sedatives, don’t lie to me.” He snaps his head up, glaring into his mother’s eyes. She takes a step back, looking at him like he’s some dangerous monster. And, hell, maybe he is.

“Eddie you- you needed them-” her tone is pleading, and it just pisses Eddie off more. “You- you needed something to help you, oh God-”

The fear is evident on her face, and the only thing Eddie feels is rage.

“Help me? You think that was helping me?” He drops the pill bottle then, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You-”

“Eddie, your eyes-”

“You drugged me!”

“God, have mercy-”

“YOU FUCKING DRUGGED ME!”

Eddie gestures in front of him, and watches with not-so-much horror as his mom stumbles backwards with an audible shriek.

There’s a moment where he wants to panic. But the anger takes over again, and he doesn’t care what happens to her. He doesn’t care what he did. He doesn’t care.

He needs to get away, he needs to go be alone. He takes off towards his room, but pauses as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of his kitchen’s glass cabinets.

His eyes… his eyes are glowing, just like his hands.

No pupils, no hazel iris, no whites. Just a glow, like a flashlight.

Before he has to listen to more shrieking, Eddie all but runs upstairs, slamming his door with more force than he thought he had in him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he felt the house shake with the action.

He rushes to the window then, his body shaking with how fucking angry he is, and throws it open. Reaching both hands out in front of him, he aims, and it doesn’t take a second thought to fire a blast.

It’s easy when he thinks about everything, and when he feels like there’s so much… so much energy pent up inside him that he could burst.

The dent he makes in the tree is much more noticeable this time.

He grits his teeth, and fires another.

Fuck her. Fuck everybody.

A branch falls.

He fires another blast.

Fuck “heroes”. Fuck this society. Fuck this whole fucking world.

He hears his mom getting up from downstairs. And he’s not fucking sorry. Not one bit.

Eddie doesn’t speak to his mom after that.

He avoids going downstairs, and eventually she starts bringing meals up to him, pills in a neat little pile on the side.

They taunt him, the little white tablets. At first, he’s not sure which ones are the sedatives, and which ones he actually needs. But he’s not sure how much he cares anymore.

He stops taking all of them.

And, surprise surprise, nothing happens.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He takes the medication and hides it in a small box under his bed, covered by comics so his mom doesn’t find it if she ever decides to snoop around. And, after all this shit, he wouldn’t put it past her.

He’s 18 now. Most kids his age are going to college, going to work, moving out, doing something .

And Eddie? He’s making a plan.

He notices his mom trying to slip him more medication. And he’s wary of anything that she might be able to sneak a powder into.

He must be successful in avoiding her attempts to drug him, because he feels more alive, more energetic than he had at any time in the past two years.

The stool near his window becomes Eddie’s new best friend. Now that his energy is back, he’s better than ever at controlling his blasts.

He knows his emotions help it along, and he learns that the brighter the glow of his hands, the stronger the blast he can emit; and he learns that his blasts can be strong. It’s during a particularly intense storm that Eddie tests the waters a little more, and ends up knocking over one of the trees outside his window.

If he can knock over a tree, then surely he can knock out a wall, right?

He bides his time, but it takes everything in him to pretend like things are normal. He waits for winter to pass, paying moderate attention to the news when his mom goes out and storing up some essentials. Nothing too conspicuous- a jar of peanut butter here, a box of crackers there, and a few twenties from the stash in her room.

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s gonna do or where he’ll end up, so he does his best to prepare for anything.

He keeps a bag under his bed, right next to the box of discarded pills. His mom hasn’t been too nosy about his room- why would she have any reason to be, since he rarely leaves it anyway. By February, the bag consists of a few comics, the supplies he’d stolen from the kitchen, and the money. By March, he adds more money, two changes of clothes, a bottle of water, and a blanket. He wants to be prepared in case he has to leave early.

By May, the weather has evened out, the days sunny and long.

Eddie barely interacts with his mom, and something tells him she doesn’t much mind. She’ll insist on an “I love you” every now and then, but Eddie obliges in order to keep her at bay. He’s learned to play the part of the perfect, quiet, sedated little boy.

It’s a Saturday late in the month when Eddie decides it’s time.

His mother is downstairs, watching some mind-numbingly stupid reality show. He does one last check on his bag, making sure he had everything. He’d been able to steal about $250 without his mother noticing, which he figured was enough to get him, well, somewhere . Everything else is in place- even his inhaler, for good measure.

He slips on his best sneakers, which didn’t have much wear in them, since he’d been outside maybe ten times in the past two or three years. His clothes are comfortable, with a hoodie tied around his waist and a watch around his wrist for good measure.

He takes a step back, standing in the middle of his room with his bag slung over his shoulder. Soon… soon he’d be out. Taking a deep breath, Eddie raises his hands to the same height as the window, and he focuses his energy-

Until something catches his eye.

Something he spent a lot of nights listening to. Something he wants so badly to hate, but he can’t. It gives him too much nostalgic joy.

‘Songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’

Eddie swallows a lump in his throat as he stands perfectly still, eyes glued to the little CD, sitting besides his portable player.

Part of him wants to leave it, to forget everything about this part of his life and start over, brand new. But, as much as he wants to forget everyone, to forget the Losers club, to forget Richie , he can’t. He can’t bring himself to do that.

With a huff, he grabs the CD, placing it safely in Richie’s stupid little case. He shoves them in his bag, then returns to the middle of the room, facing his window.

He can almost hear his mom’s voice in his ear, urging him to stop, telling him he’s too weak, that he won’t survive out there, that he should just stay safe here with her.

“Fuck you,” he responds to no one.

Again, Eddie raises his hands, angling them towards the window.

“This one’s for you, Ma.”

Boom.

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie fanfiction #it fanfiction #reddie fanfics #it fanfics #it (stephen king)#my writing #my art #uh yeah heres this

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bandrlodge · 4 years

Text

Just My Type

Bucky x Plus Size Original Female Character: Briar Hawthorne

Chapter Summary: Briar experiences 6° of separation

Chapter warnings: general buffoonery, recreational drug usage (marijuana)

Chapter One: Design Client Anonymous

Briar smirked, pulling her coffee cup from the cabinet. Another night, another Natasha one nighter. Of course, she'd hurried them out as she heard her roommate stirring. She pulled Nat's comically small mug from the cabinet as well and prepped both of their drinks. One sugar for Nat. Five sugars and a heavy splash of Coldstone's Sweet Cream Creamer, for her cup. Briar heard the patter of her footsteps down the steps as she was topping off her mug.

"Morning, Nat." She smiled, sliding the mug over. She grumbled, ruffling a hand through her thick, red hair. Briar settled back against the counter, adjusting the neck of her oversized Manson shirt before grabbing the coffee.

"So...how was last night?" Briar asked. She sipped the coffee, relishing the warm hug now rushing through her bones. Natasha chuckled and downed her mug full in one gulp.

"Let's leave it with, slimy yet...satisfying." Briar gagged.

"Fuck you, you nasty bitch."

Natasha laughed, "I've offered, several times."

Briar shook her head, "I don't fuck where I sleep."

"That doesn't make a whole lot of sense." They heard a voice call. Briar's head snapped over to our balcony door, which was now closing on a very disheveled Clint Barton. His hoodie hung off his frame, obviously torn in a fight. Clint, was a character; the only one of Natasha's group that was ever allowed to meet her. She loved him and couldn't count the number of times he'd shown up, carrying pizza and begging to rewatch Avatar. One time, he'd even brought a dog, Lucky. From that moment on, he'd had a permanent invitation and open door to their place. Other than him, no one had ever been allowed inside the apartment and in the four years she had known Natasha, she'd never met a single friend other than Clint.

For good reason though; living with a semi retired Avenger was dangerous. She never wanted to try and draw more attention to our friendship and home by bringing home extras. Well, high profile extras, according to her.

"No one asked you, bird brain." Brisr smiled. Clint perched himself beside me on the counter, snatching the half full coffee pot from its machine and taking a swig straight from it.

She rolled her eyes and simply took another drink of her own, having learned long ago any war involving coffee was a war that would never be won with Clint.

"Oh yeah, Nat, uhm...Boss wants to talk to you. Says you should probably call him, like...an hour ago."

"So, we arent gonna address the bloodied knuckles and tattered clothes?" Briar cocked an eyebrow and glanced between the two. Nat shook her head, "Probably not. I'm gonna go make this call." A moment later she was gone, leaving poor Briar at the mercy of the blonde coffee fiend.

Clint finished off the remainder of the coffee sitting in the pot and scooted closer to me, bumping his shoulder against my own.

"So, how's work going?" He wiggled his eyebrows, flashing his side cocked smile. laughed, raking a hand through my hair. Her finger snagged into a blue tendril and pulling at it absently while she answered,

"Honestly? It's fine. That's it. I expected a bit more from a high profile firm. I took two cases from the lead designer and one from a coworker at their behest, but, there isn't too much to go around." Briar had switched from a solo home design firm almost eight months before. While being her own boss was pretty much heaven, she needed health insurance and there was no way she could afford those payments on my own. So, she took the newest Senior Designer spot at Legendary Interiors and the rest was history. Even with the small work load currently, Briar was pretty lucky with them. The base pay was substantial and there was always a fifteen percent commission for Senior levels. She had her health insurance and not once had she been asked to remove her piercings, change her hair color, or cover her tattoos.

"But, I'm lucky. So, I don't wanna complain too much. Plus...you should see the room I'm working on now. The case came nameless to me, but, the space is amazing. From what I can tell, I actually have the space to do all of the projects I've come up with. The proposal is being sent in on Monday afternoon. Hopefully..." Briar took a large breath, "its accepted." Clint nudged her,

"You're fantastic, Briar. It will be" He hopped off the counter, putting the now empty pot back into it's holder and held out his hand.

"Show it to me, Smurfette."

Briar laughed at him and abandoned her coffee cup to drag Clint down the hall to the design room. She flipped the light switch and pulled him over to the light table. Rough sketches of a modern penthouse with multiple greenery patches throughout the floorplan lay upon the table, littered with various colored ink marks. Clint sat on the stool and studied them for a few moments, chiding the blue haired woman for biting on her nails whilst he was doing so.

"This is great, B. The greenery you've used is so...oddly placed but, it works."

She squealed, "That's what I was going for. The client is a war veteran with severe PTSD. I wanted him to have the modern space he requested, but...he originally just asked for a little spot in the house to retreat to. But, I put a bunch of spaces around the house. Triggers arent confined to one space. So, why should his self care depend on getting to one specific area?"

Clint nodded along with her rambling, something obviously ticking away in that big brain of his.

She smacked his shoulder softly to get his attention, "Whatcha thinking, bird brain?"

He turned to look at his friend, a shit eating smirk plastered on his face.

"I know whose space you're designing."

________<_________<________<________<_____

Bucky had sent the proposal for a new design over to Legendary six weeks ago. By now, he had hoped to see at least a rough sketch. Except for a few short email exchanges between himself and the Vice President of Design, he had no information on who had taken his project nor, what they were doing with it.

He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Tony,

'You said that design place was the best, right?'

Not a moment later: 'Yes, tin man. Who got your project? Katherine? Jonas?'

'I don't know, Tony. I haven't heard from anyone other than Camille. She didn't give my name to the designer like I asked, which I appreciate, but I don't know whose working on it.'

Bucky managed to fix himself a hot cup of lavender tea before Tony responded with a name and a phone number.

'Her name is Briar Hawthorne. She's been with them eight months and is their newest Senior Designer. Camille gave it to her specially. That's her cell phone number. I had to schmooze for that. Use it wisely, old man.'

Bucky laughed, Tony schmoozing on his behalf was still jarring. But, thankfully, the past decided to stay in the past after the Thanos affair. There was too much to rebuild and too much to cherish now, there wasn't time for wallowing in past mistakes. He sat on his bed, pulling a sleeping Alpine tightly to his side and shot a message over to Briar.

Hopefully, he could get some information on his damn apartment design.

______<________<________<_______<______<__

Briar sat on the balcony, weary eyed, and staring at the text message on her phone. She took another inhale of her joint and leaned her head back against the egg shaped hanging chair she was in. An exhale later she was typing her fifth attempt at a response to him.

She took another drag of the joint and recalled finding out the identity of her client.

Clint had laughed for a good five minutes. Chuckling at the absolute fucking serendipity he was watching unfold. Natasha had come in as he was dying down and as soon as he told her - in a hushed whisper between two very best friends - she had also spent a full five dying from laughter.

Turns out, the client was none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. A.k.a. the Winter Soldier. Natasha had complemented the decision on the multiple greenery spaces for relaxtion and meditation, saying that the Sergeant would like that idea. Clint had teased Natasha about how she couldn't hog their Smurfette anymore, knowing that the team would likely attach themselves to Briar quickly.

She reread the text for the hundredth time.

'Hi, Ms. Hawthrone.

My name is James Barnes, and I am the client whose penthouse you are designing currently. I know originally I asked to remain anonymous but, I wanted to check the progress on the design. I've not recieved any sort of update.

Thank you, again. '

He seemed so formal. Briar was stuck on how to respond, wondering if she should mention Natasha or if she should just be professional.

'Mr. Barnes,

Thank you for reaching out. I apologize that you have not been provided with regular updates but, I can tell you that the draft proposal and cost summary will be available to you on your account dashboard on Monday. I submitted my idea to Camille yesterday afternoon. Please don't hesitate to reach out with any other questions or concerns.

- Briar Hawthorne'

Professional, succinct.

Boring.

She hit send and stuffed the phone down beside her thigh in hopes that the cushion on the chair would muffle the vibrations so she could ignore it should he respond. Briar finished out her joint and pulled another from her cigarette case and lit it up.

She felt the dooming buzz of an incoming message on her thigh and groaned.

It was James.

'Could we maybe meet tomorrow and go over the plans together? I would feel better going over the plans with the actual designer. Not her boss.

And call me Bucky. All my friends do.'

So, they were friends now? She chuckled and settled back into the chair again.

Meeting a client off the clock could go wrong, there was no telling if she'd face repercussions on Monday.

But, the opportunity to present her project on her terms in her words...

'Yeah, sure. I can do a full layout set up on my design wall here at the house. Just text Natasha for the address. She doesn't let me give it out. She's a weird roommate.

And call me, Briar.'

There. She threw it in.

The frustrated groan yell from inside the house a moment later meant that Bucky was quicker on the draw than she would have thought.

_______<_________<___________<_________<__

JMT tag: @sea040561 @heli0s-writes @suz-123

Thank you to you, reading this. Yeah, you. You're awesome.

#bucky x oc #bucky x ofc #marvel #fanfic #plus size character #bucky x plus size ofc #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction

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linkisntrelevant · 3 years

Text

✧｡ kim hanbin. 22 .he/him. ｡✧ is that LINCOLN “Link” KWON living at THE LINKS in APARTMENT #204? i heard the COMIC BOOK STORE WORKER has lived there for 18 MONTHS now. every time you pass by you can hear I Fall Apart by Post Malone playing. maybe they play it because they’re friends would say they’re the GIVER. it could just me assuming things. even if they would say they are (+SELFLESS) and (+DETERMINED.) that doesn’t mean they can’t be (-BRASS) or (-STUBBORN.) let’s just stop by and ask them sometime. considering they’d describe themselves as (second hand everything, finding pacifiers and baby toys everywhere, sleeping alone, crumpled up bills because he isn’t sure how to pay them, studying in between shifts.) that’s if they’ll actually answer the door. good luck. (ooc: shelby, she/them, 26, cst.)

Basic:

Birthday: 6 August 1998

Sign: Leo

Nationality: Korean

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: He/him

Background:

Birth Place: Austin, Texas

Hometown: Austin, Texas

Health Issues: minor depression, three screws in his knee from surgery he had when he was a teenager

Trauma: warched his girlfriend die while giving birth

Physical:

Faceclaim: Kim Hanbin

Eyes color: Brown

Hair color: Black

Height: 5'10

Weight: 142lbs

Dominant hand: Right

Tattoos/scars/birthmarks: "I think I saw you in my sleep" with a pair of small hands tattooed on the back of his right arm, a tombstone tattooed on his wrist “death is a thief,” flowers and spiderwebs tattooed on his elbows, 0 gauged ears

Relatives:

Mother: Min Byeong Soo

Mother’s Occupation: Labor and Delivery Nurse

Father: Kwon Jin Eun

Father’s Occupation: Accountant

Siblings: Min Joo Kyung (27), Sun Min (24)

Children: Ensley Kwon (3)

Random Facts:

His favourite food is dinosaur chicken nuggets. He always has a bag of them in the freezer. He says its because his daughter, but they are really for him.

He hasn’t been in a proper relationship since he was with Harmony. So he’s been single for 3 years.

He still draws when he has the chance, which is when it’s slow at the comic book shop. He’s been working on drawing a comic book series for years.

Past:

Link is the first generation born in American from his Korean immigrant parents. For years they waited, studying American history and culture in hopes to move to America, to give their children a better chance at life. Sure enough in 1998, the same year they learned they were pregnant with Link their citizenship was granted. No more green cards, actual American citizen identification for them and all three of their children. In a way of celebration, they named their new child, their first son Lincoln, after their favourite president.

Being the first son put a lot of pressure on Link. He always tried his best in school, playing on the baseball team as well as studying hard to live the life his parents so desperately wanted for him. The pressure was a lot for him, since it was coming from his big sisters as well.

It wasn’t until the boy was in seventh school that he had the vocabulary and knowledge to understand that the pressure he was feeling wasn’t normal. That the nights he laid awake at night weren’t normal. Other students weren’t put under as much pressure or held to such high expectations as he was. That was the first time that he told his parents that he thought he was depressed. Both parents dismissed him, telling him that was a rich person’s sickness. He had a roof over his head and hot meals on the table every night, he had nothing to be depressed about

So he ignored it, going on as if nothing was wrong. But deep inside he knew that what he was feeling was valid. That something was wrong in his head.

Link’s sophomore year, he met Harmony and his world was shook. The second he laid eyes on her, he knew he wanted her. She was in the stands at one of his baseball games. He kept an eye on her the entire game, just to make sure she didn’t leave before he had the chance to talk to her. Sure enough, she was waiting for him by the dugouts after the game was over.

The rest became ancient history. For the rest of high school they dated and were practically inseparable. A high school romantic just like all the cheesy movies. Link knew it too, but he didn’t care. He loved this girl with everything he had inside of him.

Their first year at college, they took too much advantage of their freedom and ended up in the family way. The pregnancy was complicated to say the least. Neither of them were ready for a baby and not a single one of their parents was supportive when they told them. Abortion was never on the table, as Harmony was already four months along when they realized what was going on. So they decided on adoption, giving the baby the life they knew they would never be able to give it. For months they met with couples until they found one that seemed nice and would love their child unconditionally.

A week before the due date, Harmony went into labor in the middle of the night. A few hours later, around sunrise their daughter was born. She was healthy and safe, but Harmony was not. She wouldn’t stop bleeding and unfortunately didn’t make it. When the adoptive couple came to collect the baby, Link couldn’t part with her. This little girl was all he had left of his Harmony and he couldn’t bare part with her. So he didn’t. Ensley Julienne Kwon was his baby and he wasn’t going to give her up for anthing.

For the first year of his daughter’s life, he lived back at home with his parents. Trying to make things work while listening to their constant badgering and negativity. They helped with the baby but were always reluctant and negative about it, criticizing how he decided to do certain things and judgmental of how he was caring for himself. But the young father was still drowning in the loss of his love.

One week after Ensley’s first birthday, Link packed up his car and left with no real plan of where he was going or what he was doing. Talking to some of his online friends, he decided to head for California. A couple days of living in his car and he found himself an apartment and a steady job at his friend’s comic book store. It’s not an ideal living situation, but he’s happy...for the most part. At least happier than he was back in Texas.

Wanted Connections:

Besties with Benefits: I want this to be a legit friendship, like the bestie who hook up with each other

Just Benefits: A simple hook up, someone who they don’t even need to hang out after they finish or even really get along. Just good sex

A shoulder to cry on: it’s no secret that Link is having a hard time with life and he needs someone to act as his support. Someone to act as an older sibling, a mentor, a therapist. Someone to be there when he needs it the most.

Wanna Be Baby Mama: this one has to be female, because I want this person to become very close with Ensley, almost to the point where she starts calling this person Mom.

Nerd Buddies: Someone who comes into the comic book shop a lot because they’ve seen his work and like it. These people don’t have to be close, but the potential to be more is there. Future besties maybe? Maybe more. Who knows! We’ll find ot

#twenty3:intro #bio #how could you be so heartless [self]

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phantomjellies · 4 years

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the adventures of peter parker, intern extraordinaire, touring his own home, ft. embarrassing avengers (chapter five)

read on ao3 or continue below

Peter had never hated Shuri more than he did right then and there.

He didn’t really hate her, just...strongly disliked what she was doing at the moment. Which was typical — the two of them were constantly pulling useless and elaborate pranks, running around quoting vines, and using their resources to wreak extreme havoc onto the Avengers. But it was all in jest, and the two of them really were friends.

But, friends can still want to kick each other in the head sometimes.

He turned around and came face to face with an evilly grinning Shuri, dressed in that stupid shirt they found that just said “fuck y’all, i’m gay” in rainbow comic sans, black jeans, and light up heelies.

“You’re a walking meme,” he said dryly.

She sent him some finger guns before jumping at Peter and wrapping her arms and legs around him. He stumbled backwards, tempted to just fall and melt into the floor, but he decided, no, I’d like to keep some of my remaining dignity.

“Shuri, I swear to God, get off of him.”

“MJ,” she whined, drawing out the letters, “he’s my husband!”

“One — you’re gay, and two — he’s my boyfriend.”

Shuri sighed loudly and released her koala hold on Peter, stepping back and surveying the class.

“Shit, is this your class?” she asked, grin widening.

“Yep,” MJ said, popping the p. Peter shot her a look that he hoped expressed his sense of betrayal. “This is the merry band of nerds, otherwise known as the Midtown AcaDeca team.” She paused. “Except for Flash, who has been far from merry this entire trip, probably because he’s annoyed that he’s wrong, but hey, we all make stupid mistakes, right?”

“Like that time Peter-”

Peter cut her off by lunging towards her, slapping his hand over her mouth.

“We don’t need to hear anymore stories — fuck! Shuri! You just licked my hand!”

She shrugged.

“You put your hand over my mouth, I lick it. Sorry mate, that’s just the way the world is.”

Dr. Rodriguez cleared their throat.

“Princess,” she started pleasantly, “I know you’re royalty, and, truly, you and Mr. Parker do make an amusing pair, but this is a tour. So, either join in and be quiet, or you can kindly leave us to continue. The choice is yours, my dear.”

Shuri mimed zipping her lips closed, slinging her arms around Peter and MJ and dragging them over to Ned. She might’ve been completely immune to the bewildered stares of Peter’s classmates, but he was not, and he shrugged out of Shuri’s grasp, crossing his arms and resolutely staring straight ahead.

Somehow, Shuri managed to stay silent while Dr. Rodriguez finished talking to them, and even sat in silence while Dr. Palmer answered questions.

It wasn’t until they were back out in the hallway that she grabbed Peter’s wrist and yanked him up to Grace, grinning widely.

“Graaaaaace,” she sang, throwing her other arm around her shoulders. “Where are we going next?”

“Dinner, my dude. Teenagers gotta eat, you know?”

Peter stole a glance backwards at the rest of his class, who were all not so discreetly intently watching him and Shuri, or whispering to each other.

“Ugh, that’s no fuuuun,” Shuri whined. “Can’t we go to, like, another lab?” She turned towards the group, grinning wildly. “Who wants to go to another lab, huh? Preferably one where we can blow shit up?”

“Fuck yeah,” someone said, and there were murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd.

Grace rolled her eyes. “Shuri, this is a tour. They can only go where I’m allowed to take them.”

Shuri pouted, but then realization slowly dawned on her, and her face lit up again as she whirled around to face Peter.

“Peter, my dear friend, one who I love so much, would you be willing to take us humble tour-goers up to the fun labs?”

“Okay, one; you are not a part of this tour, two; the intern labs are fun, and three; I can’t just take everyone up to the labs. That’s literally not how this works.”

“Well, I mean, with permission from the right people…”

Peter shot Grace an exasperated glare. She sent him a pleading look.

“Fine” he groaned. “I’ll ask. If he says no, he says no, and that’s final, okay?”

Shuri and Grace cheered.

Peter stepped away from the group, taking in a deep breath before clicking Tony’s contact.

“Hey, kid. Aren’t you supposed to be touring?”

“Yeah. But some people don’t know how to leave others alone, so now I’m being peer-pressured into asking if we can come up into the higher labs.”

“What, like my lab?”

Peter sighed. “I don’t know. Can you just say no? We haven’t cleaned the lab in forever and I don’t need them seeing all that shit.”

“Okay, first of all, watch your language-”

“Fuck you.”

“And second, if you think I’m going to let a bunch of dirty teenagers into my lab-”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“-You’re absolutely correct, I love showing off. Tell them to come right up.”

Peter blinked in surprise.

“Oh no,” she said, hanging up and turning back to the group. “What a shame. He said no.”

“Actually, Mr. Stark has invited your group up to his lab.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Friday? You’re just gonna snitch on me like that?”

There was no response, and Peter let out a long groan, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah. Whatever. He said yes. But uh, there are a few kinda sorta classified things? So if y’all wanna just go to dinner I need to head up and make it...not classified.”

“Did you just call Tony Stark on your phone?”

“What? I -- yeah. Are you surprised by that at this point?” Peter shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll text someone when everything’s okay.” He looked directly at Shuri. “FYI, I’m mad at you.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Get over it.”

Peter flipped Shuri off before turning on his heel and walking into the elevator. He rode it up to the lab, because really, the place was a mess, and he didn’t need his team to see last night’s calculus homework and the formula to his webs both projected in the air, with his handwriting on both of them. They might’ve been an oblivious group of teenagers, but they certainly weren’t dumb. Peter turned off all incriminating holograms, putting away the random tools littered throughout the workspace and cleaning up the dishes and coffee mugs left behind. He was in the middle of trying to figure out how to make it seem more like Tony Stark’s workshop rather than a place that Tony Stark and local nerd Peter Parker fucked around and made the occasional genius upgrade when he heard the door open.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the tour?”

“Yeah, well, someone decided to let a bunch of teenagers run rampant in their lab, so I’m here to make sure you don’t accidentally blow my cover.”

“I was going to do that.”

Peter glared at Tony.

“Well I’m already doing it.”

“Place looks nicer than it ever has. Haven’t seen that patch of floor in years.”

Peter rolled his eyes, sighing as he waved away another hologram full of random scribbles and a very bad illustration of Captain America drawn by Tony.

“This isn’t like...your lab anymore.”

“Workshop,” Tony absentmindedly said, picking up a piece Peter had thrown into a bin. “Lab sounds too sterile and uptight. This is a place where ideas are born and jokes are told. This is a place of legends, bro.”

“Never say bro again,” Peter said, shaking his head. “But anyway, this is...more our lab. Workshop. Like, it’s not just your space that I use sometimes. It’s both of our ideas combined.”

“Yeah. And?”

“And that doesn’t bother you? That some nerdy teenager is taking over your space?”

Tony sighed exasperatedly. “Kid, how many times do I have to tell you that I chose to let you in here. I’m Tony fucking Stark. I’m the boss of myself.”

“Technically Pepper’s your boss.”

“Yeah, okay, if Pepper says no that means no, but still. I’m the one who let your scrawny ass run your mouth off in here.”

“My scrawny ass can kick your ass, so I’d watch your mouth, old man.”

“Not the old man again,” Tony whined, chucking a screwdriver at Peter. He caught it, sighing and setting it in a drawer.

“Can you at least hold some form of lab safety when my team is in here? ‘Cause, like, they’re all gonna post about this in some way on social media, and I don’t really think you want ‘Tony Stark throws screwdrivers at teenagers’ trending on Tumblr.”

“What the hell is Tumblr?”

“Nevermind.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Hey, where’d all your work go?” Tony asked, cashing Peter to glance back at him.

“Oh, I just dismissed the holograms for now. I was going to bring them back afterwards.”

“Why? It’s your work too. I’ve gotta show off my favorite intern.”

Peter shook his head. “Tony, no. It’s your workshop. That’s what they’re expecting. Not more of my ramblings.”

“Bullshit. They come to Tony Stark’s workshop, they get Tony Stark and his intern. We’re a package deal now, buddy. No escaping it now.”

Tony crossed the room, placing his hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“Kid, you deserve to be in here just as much as I do. And your ramblings? Genius, all of them. So I say fuck what they want, we’re gonna give them the reality. And that includes your work and your stupidly legible handwriting.”

“Pepper really struck a nerve there when she mentioned the difference, huh?”

“My handwriting is not illegible,” Tony scoffed. “It’s aesthetically pleasing.”

“For who? It looks like word spaghetti.”

“You know what? I take it back. I’m banishing you from the workshop. You come in here and call my handwriting word spaghetti? I kick you out.”

“That’s like the fifth time this week you’ve kicked me out of the workshop. I dare you to actually do it.”

“Can’t,” Tony said sadly. “You’ve made me soft. Little bastard.”

Peter rolled his eyes, a fond grin on his face.

“You sure you want them all in here?”

“Pete, I really just want to show them that you’re better than all of them.”

Peter choked, eyes widening.

“You what?”

“Nothing. Now go join your little tour group again. I’ll finish in the lab. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that nothing exposes you.”

“Fri?”

“I’ve got you, Peter.”

“Good to know someone still loves me.”

Tony flipped Peter off. Peter stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation and walked out.

#rin's writing #god it's been a long time #but hey #i did it #irondad #field trip fic #marvel

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