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sadclearance · 3 years

Text

summer

pairing: suwa hiroto x male!reader x naruse kakeru from orange

summary: summer is here again.

category: fluff(?), angst(?), hurt/comfort(?) idk i suck at categorizing

warning(s): implied/referenced suicide

word count: 2013

key:

there's a flashback, but the start and end of it is signified with "*"

s/t - skin tone

summer is a time of warm sunny fun. the sky is clear, the air is hot--there's nothing stopping the group of old high school friends from gathering.

"do you think y/n's almost here?" naho asks, seeing as everyone from the group has finished with their brunch meals.

"if he is, he better have eaten beforehand. no way i'm staying any longer. i wanna get to the beach already!" azusa throws her head back exasperatedly.

"i'm sure he's on his way," saku says, voice steady but mind not confident in his own answer.

"y/n just texted me," hiroto sighs, and everyone already knows what it's about. and nobody's surprised.

"let me guess," azusa leans her face against her palm, "he's got another paper."

"yup," hiroto nods, revealing the screen of his phone to his friends.

"this is summer! who has papers during the summer?" azusa frowns.

"y/n always has papers during summers," saku notes. "maybe he's just working really hard."

"do you guys even know what he's studying?" hiroto asks.

"if you don't know, none of us would," takako says.

"what?"

"haven't you noticed?" azusa's eyes go wide. "are you dense?"

hiroto pouts, "that's not nice."

"y/n hasn't talked to any of us since high school," saku says.

"what? that can't be true. you're exaggerating," hiroto shakes his head.

"nope. not one text. not one reaction," azusa puts her pointer fingers together to create an 'x'.

"do you guys think he's holding up okay?" naho asks with a quiet voice. "i barely even saw him in high school after..."

and they all know what the next words were supposed to be.

but summer is a time for warm sunny fun, not a dark topic like this.

"let's go to the beach," azusa jumps from her seat and grabs her bag.

"yeah"s are heard throughout the group, and they all get up and follow her lead.

and the day is just the way it's supposed to be. the sun is bright, the air is hot, and the splashes of water that they playfully send each other's ways are cold.

"oh, you're so gonna get it!" azusa yells after saku dumps a bucket of water on her.

"hey! be careful," naho scolds. "you're gonna knock down my castle."

"sorry, sorry," azusa sends her a wink before going back to chase after saku.

it's fun like this. it's fun being with his high school friends. so fun that it makes hiroto miss high school.

but missing high school came with reminiscing memories of high school. memories that weren't always so fun.

and now hiroto feels like he can't move his fingers. his eyes can't focus on anything, and his view of the beautiful blue water is blurry. he wants to clear his mind, but he's trapped.

his heady is foggy, yet the past moments whizzing around inside his brain is painfully apparent.

*he doesn't feel the cool breeze of the ocean anymore. he feels the warm air of the blazing fire that was lit in y/n's tiny backyard. probably a fire hazard, but who could think about that when his best friends were smiling so big?

a black-haired boy that usually wears such a painful expression is now laughing heartily alongside the owner of the small place, letting his arms rest around his waist.

and warm s/t hands are pulling hiroto towards them.

"c'mon! join the party!"

there's so much laughter and warmth, even on the cold winter night.

hiroto thinks that it's the best night of his life.

the same hands that pulled him closer are now pointing at both sides of his cheeks.

the brunette and the raven laugh more before they decide to say "fuck it" and give into a little peck on the cheek.

but right before lips meet cheeks, y/n pulls his face away, and the lips are pressed against each other.

a cheery beautiful laugh resounds throughout the cold air as grey and brown eyes stare into each other, wide with realization.

when they pull away, hiroto expects kakeru's face to twist in disgust, but it doesn't. there's a small smile playing on his lips instead.

"your loss, y/n. kakeru's lips are sweet," hiroto playfully sticks out his tongue.

"then i guess i should get a taste for myself," y/n grins like a goof.

this view is so pretty and hiroto would never trade it for anything.

but then suddenly, kakeru's feet are off the ground, and y/n's body crumbles because kakeru is--*

"what--" hiroto gasps when cold water soaks him from head to toe.

"you were off in your own little dream world," takako says, putting the bucket down on the coarse sand.

"stop thinking so hard. that's never been a strong point for you," saku jokes before getting splashed by azusa.

"finally got you!" azusa celebrates, prancing around the low water in glee.

"you're on, takako!" hiroto says with a new burst of energy. he doesn't want to bring down the mood.

"it wasn't a challenge, but if you really wanna lose..." takako grins.

he's tired by the end of the day. takako was right. he lost.

"meet up at five for the festival tomorrow?" hiroto asks before parting ways.

"yup!" azusa nods aggressively.

"keep that up and you're gonna break your neck," saku flicks her head with his pointer finger.

"yeah," takako laughs.

"should we text y/n about tomorrow's plans?" naho asks hesitantly.

"i'll let him know," hiroto says after no one responds.

"you will?" naho asks with hopeful eyes.

"how could i ever say no to you?" hiroto ruffles her hair, trying to make the air less tense.

"don't be late tomorrow!" azusa yells at the group before going her own way.

the walk back to his house is quiet. he doesn't want to be alone right now. his mind is too much to handle alone, and he just wants something to distract him from these memories forever.

before he knows it, his feet have carried him to the l/n family house's door. the house that had been empty since y/n left for college.

he wonders if y/n's even there. probably not, considering how y/n's working on the paper for his project.

but he still needs time to work up the courage to ring the doorbell.

the simple task of lifting his finger and pressing the button takes some time and way more effort than it should, but he eventually gets it done.

"you in?" hiroto asks after a while. he knows his voice is weak, and that even if y/n was home, he wouldn't have been able to hear, but he can't find it in himself to raise his voice. his energy is suddenly drained, and he feels like he can barely keep himself up straight.

he leans against the door for support. "please."

he feels like a drunk, but he hasn't had anything to drink. it's pathetic and sad and ugly. all sides of him that he doesn't want to show anyone.

but he desperately wants to see y/n.

so, he continues.

"please, y/n. open the door," hiroto weakly knocks against the door.

he doesn't know how long he's been there, but he knows he needs to pick himself up and get to his own place.

before he leaves, holding the naive hope that y/n's on the other side of the door, he says, "we're gonna go to the festival tomorrow at five... it'd be nice if you came. i'll wait for you by the park that ka--..." this part is hard. he has to harshly swallow down the lump in his throat. "that we used to hang out at."

he couldn't keep his promise.

he had been waiting since four, but it was half-past five. he couldn't keep his friends waiting any longer.

"come on, hiroto," naho says with a painfully feigned smile. "it's okay."

"yeah," azusa tries to help. "we'll just catch him next time."

"we have all week to see him," saku eventually just grabs hiroto's arm and pulls him with them.

"okay, okay," hiroto forces out a laugh. "i can walk on my own. let's get a snack."

naho's as pretty in that kimono as she was back in high school, but hiroto can't find it in himself to be interested. he realizes that the things that used to excite him don't mean anything to him anymore.

it makes him feel hollow inside. will he feel like this when--if he sees y/n?

the thought haunts him for the rest of their time walking together, looking at what the different stalls and booths had to offer.

he doesn't remember when, but at some point, the sky had turned dark. he's sure the fireworks will start any time now.

"let's find a nice spot!" azusa says excitedly.

"you guys go ahead," hiroto says, pulling away from the group. "i need to go to the bathroom."

"hurry back! or you're gonna miss it!" naho says with a certain desperation in her voice, and hiroto knows it's because she can't afford to lose another friend.

"don't worry," hiroto reassures with a little smile. "i'll be back."

he knows it's silly, but he wants to go back to the park. it's stupid and illogical to even hope for y/n to be there because hiroto's not even sure if y/n was in the house when he said those desperate words.

but hiroto can't help but yearn.

he makes it to the park, and he sees a figure sitting on a bench--their bench.

it could be a random stranger that just happened to coincidentally sit there, or it could--

"y/n..." hiroto says softly when he gets close enough to confirm the identity of this person.

"hiroto..." y/n greets back. he's in casual clothes, nothing like what people normally wear to a festival. it's clear that this wasn't a thought out idea.

he hesitantly takes a seat next to y/n, leaving more space than necessary between them.

"i didn't know you were in town," hiroto says because as much as he's been longing for this moment, he doesn't know how to continue.

"then why did you come last night?" y/n doesn't look up.

"i..." how's he supposed to answer a question that he himself doesn't know the answer to? "i was hopeful."

the silence between them is unbearable, and hiroto wishes that seeing his high school best friend wasn't this awkward. it used to be so easy to talk to each other. why was it like this now?

"do you come back often?" hiroto asks.

"no. i've been too busy with stuff at school."

"you can't lie to me."

"then why ask?" it comes out harsher than y/n meant it to. "sorry..."

hiroto waits it out this time, and it works.

"i... i come back every summer," y/n lifts his head, but not to face hiroto's. his gaze passes the brunette and goes straight for the skies above.

there's tears building up in his eyes, and he tries to blink them away as fast as he can, but hiroto's already seen them.

he tries to think of his next words very carefully, but saku was right. thinking really hasn't ever been his strong point.

so he instinctively grabs y/n's shaking hand with his own and pulls him into an embrace.

"hey, y/n..." hiroto steadies his voice. "you're still reliving that summer alone, over and over again, aren't you?"

the only response he gets is trembling arms around his waist.

"as long as we live, summer will continue to come around..." hiroto tightens his embrace and hopes that his words are the right ones. "but the same summer will never come again."

"i miss him, hiroto," y/n chokes on a sob.

"i know. i miss him, too," hiroto buries his face in y/n's shoulder.

"and i missed you," y/n cries.

"i missed you more," hiroto whispers. "i love you."

he wonders if y/n could hear him over the loud popping of the fireworks.

but more than that, he wonders if this summer, they can finally start anew, as kakeru would want summer to be a time of warm sunny fun.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

messy half-vent fic. idek if it makes sense. inspired from a manga that i forgot the name of but it was this younger guy who was chasing after an older guy, and the older guy had a deceased boyfriend that died in a car crash in the summer.

#hiroto suwa x male reader #kakeru naruse x male reader #kakeru naruse #hiroto suwa #takako chino #saku hagita #azusa murasaka #naho takamiya #orange anime #orange #orange takano ichigo #x male reader #male reader insert #mlm #anime x male reader

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melancholymetropolis · 4 years

Text

Enemy

Prompt: Reader is secretly in love with Randall and gets heartbroken when she catches him kissing another girl. She sings a sad song about it.

A/N: This fic is combining both my love of Glee and The Order.

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, implied smut and curse words, sudden POV change (Unedited)

Words: 3300+

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The ear-bleeding music seemed to slowly die down as the pounding of my heart replaced its significant impact. My brain was trying to differentiate what my eyes were capturing and what I was feeling. Although, I seemed to be doing a terrible job.

Randall Carpio was lip-locked with some girl I had never seen before that day. He was. . . I didn't know what he was at that moment. I didn't consider him a boyfriend since we never had the appropriate conversation about it. Yet, he was more than a friend, since we had kissed a couple of times. Granted, the goal was to divert needy girls from sitting in his face. But, my heart was the warmest when we shared such intimate moments. How our tongues tangled long after the intended audience had left and we were always one minute away from racing to a secluded area. Desperately wanting to release the sexual tension that had been within us since we had met last semester.

I guess I was the only one to feel those things.

I released the breath that I had been holding and turned my back to the scene. I placed the red solo cups on the porch of the rundown home and walked away from the bustling party. I tried my best to conceal the tears welling up in my eyes and the tightness in my throat. I held myself together all the way until I reached my apartment.

The shock on my roommate's face was unexplainable as I crumbled into her arms and soiled her satin shirt with my teary mascara.

I saw his face the very next day, at the student center. He was signing some form, probably for a missing key. Since Randall was a RA, he had to fill out at least 6 of those forms every Saturday morning. Looking out for freshmen was a tough job, but he did it with no complaints. I walked past him and cranked up the volume of my phone. I could feel his eyes on me, but I chose to ignore it. If he hadn’t been signing those forms, I knew he would’ve followed me. Or chased me down.

I walked to the makeshift computer station and tapped my ID on the printer's mount. The device made a loud 'beep' before spitting out several sheets of paper. I gathered the warm items into a pile and stapled them together. Instead of walking out the way I came in, I decided to go deeper into the building and take the back exit. It happened to be further away from the library, where my study group was waiting. But an extra minute of walking wouldn't hurt as much as facing him again.

I proceed to avoid Randall for the upcoming weeks. I dove myself into my studies, spending all my extra time getting ahead on classwork. And, when I got bored with that, I upped my crocheting skills. The temperature was rumored to drop to a cool fifty degrees next week and I didn't have a scarf. Less than seventy-two hours later, I had finished my scarf and began working on my hat.

Janet, my roommate, had gotten worried that I turned into a grandma. So, she bribed me into leaving the apartment.

"Come with me to this club meeting and I'll buy you dinner," she said as she plopped onto my bed.

I stopped in mid-row and looked over at her. "You're only doing this because you don't want to go alone."

"Maybe," she huffed. "But, we'd both be happy when the night is over. You'll get your precious tacos and I'll join a new club."

I rolled my eyes. I finished my row and set my unfinished project on my desk. "Let's go before I change my mind."

The air in the auditorium was alive and thriving. It wrapped around my body like a chilled hug and I never felt so calm. I took my time walking down the aisle to the main stage, absorbing the positive energy all around me. The spotlight was aimed towards the middle of the stage, where the group was huddled. Instruments lie, abandoned, near the back of the stage. Along with mic stands and sheets of music on the floor. One group member picks up a sheet of paper from the edge of the stage and locks eyes with me. He stands up straight and looks up at me.

“I know you!” He shouts toward me.

I looked behind me and saw that there was no one there. “Me? Where do you know me from?”

“We partied together a couple of times,” he said I walked up the side steps of the stage. He paused a second to process the memories and wait for me to close the distance between us. A blush flashed against his face and scratched the side of his neck. “I tried to hit on you a few times, but you were always with that Randall guy.”

Hearing his name still made my heart stop. I tried to push my emotions back into their cave as I mustered the courage to speak again. “I—” My voice cracked with just one letter so I just bit my lip and shrugged.

The familiar stranger seemed to have understood my silence and just carried on the conversation. “Well, I’m glad you could make it! We are kind of desperate for new members.”

I cleared my throat and looked down at the ground. “What’s this club about?”

“We’re like a glee club of sorts. We sing songs that describe the overall feel of the weeks prior,” he replied in an assertive tone. “Interestingly, we have been singing a lot of breakup songs lately. We actually reconsidered to rename the club ‘The Lonely Hearts Club’.”

I looked over at Janet and she gave me a sheepish grin.

Before I could even call out to her, a new voice emerged from within the other bustling ones.

“Okay, everyone! I am excited to announce that we have new members!” The voice cheered with pure joy, which radiated throughout the room. The owner of the voice, a young woman, walked over to me and smiled. “It’s a tradition for the new recruits to ‘audition’ to become official club members. You can either sing a duet—” she looked over at Janet. “Or a solo”, then back at me. “Whichever you feel is comfortable.”

“I think a duet—” I tried to say before being cut off.

“We’re gonna do solos,” Janet interjected. I threw her a harsh look, which she had completely ignored and continued on with her statement. “I have been wanting to play my version of ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears for the longest time.”

“Great! We’ll get the stage set up, and you’ll be ready to go, yes?” The leader said with a hasty head nod. She looked back at me. “While she’s performing, try to figure out if you’ll be singing acapella or acoustic. We have tons of songs from our prior setlists if you want the band to back you.”

The familiar stranger placed a binder into my hands and I almost doubled over by the sheer heft of the object. I departed from the stage and sat in the front row. I flipped through the pages, I saw various pop anthems and R&B baby-makers in the front collection. The further I went into the binder, the more breakup songs I encountered. The majority of them are Beyonce and Taylor Swift. A few from H.E.R and Bryson Tiller. I knew a few songs in their possession but none of them really hit home. Until I reached the last page.

Jhene Aiko’s Triggered.

I had that song on repeat the very first week I started to avoid. . . him. Maybe it was an exaggeration of my feelings but it sure felt right. It captured the anger, the pain, and the longing so perfectly. Plus it wasn’t too much singing. I knew I wasn’t a Whitney Houston, but I could hold a note and remain in key.

I looked closer at the lyrics and sheet music behind me. A voice inside of me wanted to do this without a band. I needed to do this alone. I had to rid myself of the feelings that kept gnawing on my insides, begging to escape.

Janet killed it, per usual. She captivated her audience with her somber tone and gentle approach. A roar of applause flooded the auditorium. Almost making it hard to top that. I handed the binder back to the familiar stranger, Justin, and climbed on the stage. I looked down at all of the glee folk and gave a sheepish smile.

“I will be singing Triggered by Jhene Aiko,” I said, mustering up all the confidence in my being.

“Will you be using the band?” the club leader, Marie, asked.

“No, I would like to sing it acapella,” I replied with a shake of my head. “It’s something I need to get off of my chest.”

“Ooh! I am excited! Go for it!” She cheered before taking a seat in the audience.

I turned my back to the group and took a deep breath. I decided to leave the microphone on the stand just to allow the hollowed-out space project my voice for me. I took a step and just opened my mouth.

“Go figure, you were the trigger,” I sang with the side of my being facing the crowd. “You brought me an obstructed view when you knew the picture was bigger”.

The chitter-chatter among the group dropped and all eyes were on me.

I took another breath and carried on. “Who am I kidding, I knew from the beginning,” I paused. An image of Randall flashed in my mind and I could feel the emotions bubble up. I clenched my fists and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just—.”

“Unleash it,” Marie yelled from the crowd. “The pain you’ve been holding. You don’t need to pretend anymore. This is a safe space.”

The crowd yelled reassuring testaments from below and it made me chuckle.

“So, cry if you need to! We saw it all,” Justin added in. “And we all have felt exactly what you are feeling at this moment.”

The exchange made me feel comfortable and highlighted that we were all humans at the end of the day. No matter how hard we judge, we all will be or have been in a position that makes us feel so small. So insignificant. It was only human for us to feel.

I nodded. “I’m going to start again.”

I closed my eyes and allowed the words to spill from my lips.

Go figure, you were the trigger.

You brought me to

An obstructed view

When you knew the picture was bigger

I opened my eyes and gave a humorless laugh.

Who am I kidding?

Knew from the beginning.

I saw him kissing her; as if I were experiencing it all over again and all I could feel was anger.

You’d ruin everything

You do it every time.

You are my enemy,

You are no friend of mine.

Muhfucker...

I paused and ran my hands through my hair. I clasped my hand together to make a loud clap before pointing to an empty space on the stage. As if he was there with me.

You muhfucking right

You muhfucking right I’m triggered

You muhfucking right I’m bitter

You muhfucking right I...

I stopped in midpoint and gave a weak smile.

Wanna fuck you right now

The crowd “oohed” in the audience from the statement and gave me a few claps.

He heard her voice before he even entered the building. While jogging across the quad that night. It had been weeks since they had last spoken and he wished he knew the reason behind it. Every time he called, it went straight to voicemail. His texts never went through, and when they did, they were left with some written automated message. Randall had debated whether to stop by her dorm and question her about the sudden disappearance, but he respected her space. But, hearing her voice for the first time in a long time had done things to him. It made him reminisce about the old times they had back at the packhouse with the other wolves. The times where they’d sleep in his bed after a night of partying; limbs drunkenly tangled together and his head on her chest. Randall loved laying his head on her breasts. They were always so soft and inviting and smelled of flowers.

Like a sailor lost at sea, he followed the sweet melodies of Y/N’s eerily beautiful voice. The young man made his way to the auditorium before he had a chance to turn back. And he was thankful he hadn’t. She was like a siren in a pool of auburn water. The spotlight made it seem as though she was glowing. Highlighting the parts of her he found most gorgeous. Randall had taken so much time just staring at her that he shocked at the amount of sadness the lyrics offered.

Tryna let the time go by

Tryna let the time heal all

Tryna let the time kill all

Of our memories

All you meant to me

All that history

All that's history

I'll calm down eventually

Why was she singing such a sad song? Who was this song dedicated to? He pondered the possibilities of anyone that could perhaps make her feel this heartbroken. Was Y/N going through a break-up? Who’s ass did he need to beat?

I'm triggered when I see your face

Triggered, when I hear your name

Triggered, I am not okay (yeah)

You need to stay out of my way

Suddenly the singing stopped and a sole tear rolled down her face. Y/N wiped it away and mumbled the last lyric about three more times before the audience rose from their seats and clapped. Multiple peopled raced to the stage and gave her a warm embrace and Randall watched as the tears continue to flood her face.

“I should kick Randall’s ass for making you feel that way,” a familiar voice— Janet— said in the depth of the group. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I have no idea who he is, but fuck him!” A different voice chimed in. “Men are trash—”

The men in the group made an unsatisfactory sound.

“Current company excluded.”

Y/N smiled and whipped her tears. “Randall’s not trash, he just...” She paused for a moment to think. “Isn’t what I thought he was.”

“And what would that be?” Randall shouted from the doorway of the auditorium.

All the heads in the room snapped in his direction and he could hear Y/N’s heart stop for just a millisecond. As he walked down the aisle, Randall’s ears grew accustomed to her increasing heartbeat. He memorized the sound after all the nights he spent with his head against her breasts, but he hadn’t heard it beat that fast. Ever. It scared him.

Upon walking to the stage, Randall watched as the group parted— like the red sea— Y/N. His favorite girl. No longer the fierce siren he saw while she was performing. Her mascara smudged underneath her eyes and her lip gloss dripped to her chin. But, it hadn’t mattered to Randall. She could walk through a hurricane and he’d still see the beauty within her.

“Why are you here?” She asked as she walked down the stairs.

“You’re such a good performer! I was completely captivated by your stage presence—” Randall found himself spilling before realizing it.

“Can you just not. . . be yourself for one minute and be serious?” Y/N said in a frustrated tone.

It was true. She was mad at him.

“I must’ve really fucked up if you can’t take my silliness,” he mumbled to himself. Suddenly a little self-conscious, Randall looked at the group of people that had obviously been eavesdropping on the situation. He looked back at his girl and gripped her hand. “Can we talk in somewhere private, please?”

Y/N sighed and gave him a nod.

Randall pulled her out of the auditorium and into the vacant corridor.

“Look, I—” He cut her off with an embrace. Hands around her waist and nose in her hair. She smelled like cinnamon and sugar. But, it wasn’t the artificial kind that came in a spray bottle, no. It was the smell of freshly baked buns and the wafty aroma that scattered across the roll while they cooled. “Randall, what are you—”

“Just tell me what I did, so I could never do it again,” he squeezed her body closer to his and pressed a cheek to her head. “Being away from you for that long is something I refuse to do again. I tried my best to give you your space but it pained me. . . Tell me what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat slowed to its normal pace as she released a shaky breath. “I saw you kiss some girl at the party.”

His body tensed. She saw him kissing Ashley? The girl was just some drunken sorority chick that stumbled across the party. Randall had won a game of beer pong and she followed him outside to give him a ‘reward’. He hated the kiss if he could even call it that. It felt like Randall was desperately trying not to choke on her tongue. He shivered at the war flashback.

“This may sound lame, but she really did kiss me,” Randall replied. “I didn’t want to come across as rude, so I just let it happen. I wish I hadn’t though. She was such a bad kisser. Like oh my god, so bad. I drool all over my shirt and everything”

She giggled. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was worse than you think,” Randall grimaced before pulling away to face Y/N. “I am sorry that I hurt you so bad that I forced you into isolation. I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that, right?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I know that now.”

Randall placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a longing look. “Do you, also, know how much I love you, Y/N?”

“. . . What?”

Randall pressed his lips against hers for a steamy kiss. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck quickly as she stood on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her legs in his hands. He lifted her up with ease and pressed her against the wall. She groaned against his lips and arched her back, further pressing their bodies together. Y/N braided her fingers in his hair and tighten her legs around his waist. The pent up frustration from the overall situation had quickly become sexual and they were seconds from ripping each other’s clothes off.

The sound of a door closing brought her back to reality and Y/N pulled away from his lips. Just for him to attack her neck.

“Randall, we have to stop now,” she struggled to stop the moans from slipping from her lips. Y/N craned her neck to the side and tugged on the rooks of his hair. She jerked his head away from her neck and narrowed her eyes. “I mean it, Randall.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted.

“I am not trying to have our first time in a hallway, Randall,” she hissed.

“But, it would be so risque,” he pouted even more. “The thrill is getting caught is so intoxicating.”

“But getting expelled isn’t,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Can you put me down now?”

“So you are just gonna leave me all hot and bothered?” Randall said in blatant shock.

“I was going to suggest your dorm room, but since you suggested leaving—! Ah!”

Randall slung Y/N over his shoulder and jogged through the hall. “I take it back! Come on, we don’t have any time to waste!”

#randall carpio #randall carpio x reader #randall carpio imagine #the order #the order imagines #randall carpio angst #implied smut #singing #glee club #jheneakio #triggered #the order netflix #the knights of saint christopher #the knights of saint christopher imagines

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lia-jones · 3 years

Text

Growing Together - Chapter Fourteen - Learning to Fly

6:00 AM

When I wake up in the morning, love

And the sunlight hurts my eyes

And something without warning, love

Bears heavy on my mind

Then I look at you

And the world's alright with me

Just one look at you

And I know it's gonna be

A lovely day-

My hand flew blindly to my phone, shutting up Bill Withers for good. Victor stirred beside me.

“Why do you have your alarm set for so early?” He asked sleepily as he pulled me closer.

“It’s time to get up.” I kissed his closed eyelids. “Chop-chop, Mr. Lee!”

Victor turned to grab his phone.

“It’s six AM.” He squinted at his screen.

“Exactly. Time for your morning run.” I beamed at him, uncharacteristically full of energy. “I’ll get things ready, you don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not running today.” He grabbed my waist, trapping me in bed. “Sleep a little longer, we’ll get ready together.”

“No, I woke up early so you could run, and you are going to run.” I squirmed in his arms. “It’s something you like and it’s good for you, you shouldn’t give up on that just because you are a father now. Besides…” I pinched his stomach. “I don’t want a chubby hubby.”

“Ouch, quit it!” He grabbed both my wrists, trying to keep me still. “I’m not chubby!”

“You will be if you don’t run!” I started pushing him out of bed with my body. “Come on, Victor, it’s sunny outside, we’re both up, there is no excuse for you not to go-”

I heard my husband suddenly leave the bed with a thump. I looked over the edge of the bed, finding him lying on the floor, an annoyed expression on his face.

“Happy now?”

7:30 AM

“We’re ready for breakfast!” I announced as I entered the kitchen with a fully dressed Owen, who was giggling with my shenanigans. “What’s for the menu, chef?”

“French toast for the beautiful lady and the short gentleman.” Victor played along, ceremoniously presenting a large plate with golden steamy french toast. “Let me get the syrup and the sliced fruit.”

“What are you having?” I grabbed the plate from his hands.

“Egg whites and fruit.” He got his plate of egg whites and sat on the table to eat. “My wife says I’m gaining weight.”

“I was joking! Have some french toast with us.” I motioned to serve him some.

“Absolutely not!” He frowned, covering his plate. “My wife is unsatisfied, I need to please her.”

“Fine, have it your way then.” I started eating, feeling somewhat guilty about my joke.

“How is your breakfast, Owen?” Victor asked. “Do you want more strawberries? Or syrup?”

“No, Sir.” Owen blushed. “It’s good. Thank you, Sir.”

“You don’t have to call me Sir, Owen.” Victor spoke gently. “Just Victor. Or Vic, like Andy does.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Owen looked down, uncomfortable. “I mean, I’m sorry, Victor.”

Victor pursed his lips, letting out a heavy sigh. I held his hand under the table. It was clearly still hard for Owen to be comfortable with him.

8:30 AM

“Do you have everything you need?” I asked Owen as we stood by the school door. “Your lunch? Your sculpture?”

“Yes, I do.” Owen beamed at me, his red curls bouncing as he looked up. “I put my playdoh ant in the plastic box you gave me, so it won’t break.”

“Well done.” I brushed his curls slightly. “Have a good day at school. Don’t forget to eat your snack.”

“I will!” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Have a good day at work, Andy!” He turned to leave.

I noticed Victor fidget slightly by my side.

“Hey, what about Victor?” I teased. “Doesn’t he deserve a good day at work too?”

“Yes.” Owen slowly came back, extending his small hand for Victor to shake. “Have a good day.” He looked down. The look on Victor’s face at that moment broke my heart.

“You too, Owen.” Victor hesitated for a moment, wondering if he could hug his son. He touched his shoulder instead. “I’m sure your teacher will love your ant sculpture.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

The car ride to work was a silent one, as I watched my husband lost in thought, his jaw clenching occasionally.

“Vic-”

“I don’t know how to get through to him.” Victor blurted out. “It’s been a month, and he still doesn't like me. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Hey, you know what Miss Dillon said.” I caressed his shoulder. “It’s normal for adopted kids to be suspicious, especially if they had a negative experience before. Give him time, he will see the wonderful man you are, I’m sure.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He sighed. “I just need to be patient.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, I will do this.” He shook his head. “I am his father, it’s my job to build a connection. I will find a way.”

10:40 AM

“Ok, guys, what else do we have today?” I asked my management team.

“I got the new report from Parker Company today.” Diane handed me a file. “I still have to check those numbers, but the profit is way below expected.”

I opened the file, reading it carefully. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“No, this is significantly below the stipulated in the contract. They are going to lose the investment.” I flipped through the pages of the report. “They invested in new machinery last month, they have clients, they should have made a lot more than what’s in here!”

“I’ll call them today, inquiring about these values.” Diane offered.

“No.” I got up from my chair, closing my laptop. “I’ll call Mr. Stone right away. They need to file a correct report in two days, LFG will reevaluate the contract by then. Last month was already terrible for them. I need to set this straight.” I walked to the door, addressing my team again. “You guys take a break. We’ll talk later. Kenny, bring me some coffee to my office. I need all the caffeine I can have.”

The call to Parker Company took longer than expected. Mr Stone was away on business and would only return the following day, so he left his wife taking care of the company affairs. She knew very little about the investment, let alone the software we were using to report the results. His assistant was even worse, taking forever to get me simple pieces of information. Twenty minutes later, and after a lot of time on hold, my patience was wearing thin. Something wasn’t right. I hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was.

I heard a knock. It was Kenny, my assistant.

“Mr. Lee just called to see if you were ready for the Cooper meeting.” He announced, nervously.

“Crap!” I jumped in my chair. “Tell him I need five minutes more, just finishing a call.”

With this new ordeal, I had totally forgotten about the meeting with Cooper and Sons at LFG. Yet again, despite whatever progress Goldman had made before, the negotiations were at an impasse. Jason Cooper was a very traditional man, and saw these new fancy robotic companies, as he called them, as the enemy. So naturally, when Victor told him what he had to do to secure the investment, Cooper backed away. The CEO then asked me if I could present the investment project myself, to see if I could get through the old man.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lee, I can’t find the file you asked for…” Stone’s assistant came on the phone again.

“It’s alright, I’ll call later.” I hung up, checking the notification on my phone. A text from my dear husband saying You’re 10 minutes late .

I bolted to the elevator. Ten minutes was enough to have one of those grumpy men fuming and leaving the room. If I wanted to even have a chance of discussing the investment, I’d have to be quick.

The elevator opened with a ding. Goldman was already waiting for me.

“You are-”

“Late!” I interrupted as I ran to the conference room door, Goldman following me. “I know, I know. Plug this into the screen, will you?” I handed him my laptop as I knocked briefly, opening the door. My husband threw me a deadly stare.

“Mr. Cooper!” I extended my hand for him to shake. “I’m sorry for the delay, I was caught up in a meeting. I’m Andrea Lee, pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise. Jason Cooper, ma’am.” He shook my hand with a smile. “Let’s hear what you have to say, your husband says you’ll explain things better. Although I have to say I’m not senile, I understood it correctly the first time.” He gave Victor a sour look.

I turned on my laptop and began a more interactive presentation, allowing Mr. Cooper to pose questions as I spoke, keeping an open and amicable attitude. It seemed to work, as the old man lost the frown on his face, and started speaking more openly as well, even daring to ask how someone like Victor had nailed a sweet girl like me. Victor kept his poker face the entire time, only a wife’s trained eye like mine could see he was outraged.

“You know, my sons are the ones insisting on this, telling me this is an opportunity for growth. But I built this company with my own two hands, and the final say is mine. This is a family company, some people have been working with us for decades. I will say yes if you come and visit us, feel the spirit, see if your indications are really appropriate for us.”

“Andrea is a very busy woman, she-” Victor chimed in.

“I would love to.” I interrupted Victor. “I will check my schedule and make room to visit you this week.”

Pleased, Mr. Cooper shook my hand.

“Then it looks like we may have a deal. Bring the contract with you. I will sign it on the day of your visit.”

12:30 PM

“Mr. Lee asked for you to go to his office.” Kenny announced, panicked.

I was up to my neck in files. Not only did I have to study strategies for the incoming companies, I also had the Parker ordeal to figure out.

“Did he tell you what he wanted?” I asked, my eyes still glued to the file in front of me.

“No, I didn’t dare ask him.” He confessed. “Could you just call him? If you don't, he’ll call again and get angry at me.”

“Why are you so scared of him? He’s not that bad.” I took my phone, noticing I had several missed calls from Victor. “Damn it, I forgot to unmute it.”

“I know he is your husband, but he is scary.” Kenny gasped, suddenly realizing how honest he had been. “I’m sorry, this was out of line, please don’t tell him I said that.”

“It’s ok, Kenny, relax.” I chuckled as I pressed call on my phone. “Go have lunch.”

Victor answered on the first ring.

“I have lunch for you. Come up.”

“It’s ok, I’ll have something later, I’m really busy.” I took another file, opening it. “Thanks anyway.”

“You’ll forget to eat, I know. Fifteen minutes, that’s all I ask. Then you’ll resume work with fresher eyes.”

1:00 PM

“You need to go easy on Kenny. I think you scare him.” I mentioned, poking a piece of steak with my fork.

“I merely told him to do his job. What’s so scary about that?” Victor didn’t even look up from his salad.

“Maybe try not to sound so… Imperative.” I pointed the piece of steak towards my husband’s mouth. “Do you want to try it?”

“I can’t.” He moved away from my fork. “I’m on a diet.”

“Still with that?” I gave him an annoyed look. “I was only joking! You look fine!”

“If it was me telling you to lose some weight, even jokingly, how would you react?” He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his lap.

Damn. He got me there.

“I would have your head.” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Since your head is still very much intact, can we agree that I am nicer than you?” He smiled mischievously.

“No, we can’t.” I closed the box containing my food and put it aside. “Because, despite my poor choice of words, all I wanted was for my husband to resume an old habit he enjoys. My intentions were good.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” He teased, setting his salad box aside as well.

“I said I’m sorry already. I didn’t mean it, you are still very attractive to me.” I got up from my chair, sitting on his lap. His arms immediately circled around me.

“Is that so?” His tone lowered, reading my expression.

“You know, sometimes it’s difficult for me to focus on meetings, looking at you in this impeccable suit, knowing exactly what’s underneath it.” My hands roamed his chest and abs through his shirt. He took a sharp breath, his grey eyes darkening. “Makes me want to do things.”

“And what things would you like to do?” He pulled me closer, his nose touching my neck as he breathed in my perfume.

“Right now?” I used my bedroom voice.

“Mhm.” His lips were already on my skin, making me shiver in delight.

“Nothing. I only have 15 minutes for lunch and I already spared thirty.” I suddenly got up from his lap, leaving him disoriented for a moment. “Thanks for lunch, handsome.” I pecked a very confused Victor on the lips.

“You are evil.” He smiled, even more enticed. “I’ll make you pay for that later.”

“Stop being petty with the diet thing and I’ll pay you double.” I winked as I left.

6:40 PM

“So there’s no explanation for the low profit?” I skimmed through the files again.

“Not one that I can find.” Diane sat across from me, looking tired. “And Stone is only returning tomorrow, his assistant-”

“Is useless, I know.” I threw the files on the table. “That’s it, I’m going over tomorrow to check it out myself. Kenny, book a flight to Creekwood for first thing in the morning.”

“What do you think is happening?” Diane questioned. “Embezzlement?”

“Or some debt they didn’t report and are trying to pay off with LFG money.” I sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

Someone knocked on the conference room door.

“Sorry to interrupt, Andrea. Mr. Lee is outside, waiting for you.”

“Go home, I’ll stay behind and try to make sense of this for a little longer.” I got up from my chair. “I just need to tell my husband I’ll be home late. See you tomorrow.”

8:20 PM

No matter how many times I looked at those files, I couldn’t find the mistake. In the meantime, Mr. Stone had returned my many calls, and I informed him I would be at his company first thing in the morning. Despite his confusion, he agreed. Giving up on the problem momentarily, I took an Uber home.

I found Victor in the kitchen cooking as Owen set the table.

“Andy!” Owen came to hug me, looking relieved to see me.

“Hello, my little bug, how was your day?” I hugged him back. “Did your teacher like your sculpture?”

“She loved it! She said it was the best presentation she’s ever seen! I even got a smiley face!” Owen answered enthusiastically. “I’ll show you, it’s in my room! I’ll go get it!”

I chuckled, seeing him so excited. Victor left the pots and plates and came to me, hugging me from behind.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” He whispered in my ear.

“I’m sorry.” I turned to him. “Yes, you get a kiss.” Our lips touched for a moment. “How was it with Owen?”

“He spent the rest of the afternoon in his room, playing.” Victor frowned. “I got him to come out to set the table.”

“Give it time, you’ll grow on him.” I caressed his chest over the black apron he was wearing. “You grew on me.”

“It took me months to grow on you.” Victor returned to plating the food. “So, did you find what’s happening with the Parker Company?”

“Yes, about that.” I grimaced, knowing Victor wouldn’t like what I had to say one bit. “I need to fly to Creekwood tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I need to figure out what’s happening exactly. And I’ll take the chance and drive to Ferriston the very next day, to visit the Cooper’s.”

“You’re travelling to Creekwood?” He tensed. “We need you here, send someone else.”

“The only person I trust to do the job is Diane, and I can’t ask that of her. She has a newborn.” I filled the glasses on the table with water. “I have to go myself.”

“You just adopted a child.” Victor retorted. “They need you at the company. Besides, I don’t like you travelling by yourself, there has to be a better way.”

“It’s only for two days, I’ll be back the day after tomorrow in time for dinner.” I looked my husband in the eyes, only to find concern in them.

“At least get that teenager assistant of yours to go with you. You shouldn’t travel alone.”

“He’s twenty-five.” I shot him a flat face.

“Yet he gets all flustered whenever I call him.” He shook his head. “No, Andrea, find another way. I don't want you to go.”

“I don’t remember asking you.” Victor’s disapproval was starting to annoy me. He flew on business every time. Why couldn’t I do the same? “It’s my job, it’s what needs to be done.”

“You’ll still go, knowing that I don’t want you to?” Victor’s disbelief couldn’t conceal the hurt in his eyes.

“I wish you were on board with this, but yes.” I said in a firm voice. “When you hired me as your CEO, it wasn’t for me to act like it only when it’s convenient to you. This is my job, my responsibility, and I think it’s the right thing to do. I’m going.”

10 PM

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Owen shyly asked as I put his clothes for the next day on the dresser.

“Yes, and coming back the day after tomorrow before dinner.” I explained, refolding a sweater, and placing it in the drawer. “Victor will be with you.”

“For two whole days?” He seemed to panic, clearly displeased with this new turn of events.

“Come on, Bug.” I sat on his bed, ruffling his curls as he sat beside me. “Victor is not that bad. He’s a good guy.”

“I don’t know.” Owen looked down. “He looks angry all the time. He was angry at you at dinner, I could tell.”

“That’s grownup stuff you don’t need to worry about. Trust me, he will get over it soon. He’s very nice, really. Now, time to go to sleep.”

Owen climbed into bed, careful not to untuck his comforter.

“Do you want a bedtime story?” I asked.

“I can read one myself.” He made a face at me, his cute dimples showing.

“This story is not in any books we own.” I spoke theatrically. “Two years ago, I met this girl, she was roughly your age, her name was Molly. She was the one that told me this very special story about an ogre.”

“An ogre?” Owen was suddenly interested. “How big was he?”

“He was huge!” I played along, happy that I caught his interest. “He was so big he couldn’t walk straight, he always had to mind the houses and the trees beneath him, or else he would crush them all with a single step. And he had this deep voice that sounded through the entire valley and scared the animals, making birds fly off in a frenzy and bunnies return to their holes. The villagers were also terrified of him, and they would scurry into their homes as they felt the earth shake with the ogre’s footsteps. Sometimes the ogre would go to the village’s school and scare the children.”

“He liked to eat children?” The little boy’s eyes went wide.

“He never ate any of them, but they were really afraid of him!” I opened my eyes wide for dramatic effect. “Until one day, when the ogre showed up at the school’s playground. His deep voice scared every child there, except for one. A four-year-old red-haired boy, named Owen.”

“What did he do?” Owen gasped.

“Well, all the children went back inside crying, but Owen stood strong. He said, ‘An ogre will not bully me! I will show him I am not afraid, and then he will see that it’s useless to scare us with his heavy footsteps and deep voice!’ The boy stood in the playground, facing the ogre with incredible bravery. Then something amazing happened.”

“What happened?” Owen jumped in his bed, completely engrossed in my story. “Did he fight the ogre with his sword?”

“No, he didn't need to.” I shrugged. “The ogre kneeled before the boy, and puddles of water appeared by the boy’s feet. The ogre was crying.”

“He was sad?” Owen’s face fell, sadness taking over.

“Well, although the ogre was scary, he wasn’t mean at all.” I spoke in a sad voice as well. “Every time he would leave his gigantic cave, it was hoping to make a new friend. But he could never do it, because everyone would run away from him. The boy understood the gigantic creature and offered to be his friend. They played together, and the ogre taught him the secrets of the world, how to tame dragons and how the world looked beautiful and small from above. They remained friends, and when the boy grew up to be a man, the ogre followed him in many adventures, defeating evil creatures, and finding hidden treasures.”

Owen stared at me with wide eyes, the story sinking into him.

“Victor is like that ogre, isn’t he?” He looked down. “I’m that little boy, all I need to do is give him a chance to show that he’s nice.”

“Such a smart young man we have here!” I tickled his tummy, making him laugh. “Ok, make yourself comfortable, I’m going to tell Victor you are ready for bed.”

10:45 PM

The silence filled our bedroom as I packed the bag for my impromptu two-day trip. My husband was in bed, reading his book, obviously still upset with me, not dignifying my presence with a single word.

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment until I leave?” I leaned on the doorframe leading to the closet. “I don’t want to leave you in the middle of a fight.”

Victor placed his book on the nightstand with a sigh.

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”

“I don’t understand, you travel on business all the time.” I sat beside him, pushing the glasses up on his nose. “Why is it so bad that I do the same?”

“I don’t like to have you this far from me.” He sighed. “I’ll reschedule my appointments and go with you.” He grabbed his phone, ready to call Goldman.

“ You can’t go, who will take care of Owen?” I held his hand lovingly. “Besides, when I send you the signed contract, you need to make sure everything is in order and put it in motion before Cooper decides otherwise. Not to mention it’s investment revaluation week. Goldman can’t do it all on his own. I know it and you know it.”

“What if something happens? What if you have some kind of setback and I’m not there to help?” He squeezed my hands tight, pulling me closer. “I’ll worry.”

“There’s nothing to worry about!” I looked into his eyes, pleading. “It’s just for two days. What could possibly go wrong?”

Victor pulled me into a tight hug.

“Two days, not a second more.” He spoke firmly into my year. “In two days, I have you back in my arms.”

“You have my word.” I kissed his chest. “Two days.”

#Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #victor mlqc #mldd victor #li zeyan #mister love dream date #mister love queens choice #love and producer #hubbyvic #marriedvictor

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nerv0usm3chanic · 3 years

Text

CORRUPTION

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

((NOTE - This is an introduction to a new PERMANENT AU feature exclusive to nerv0usm3chanic. Please see further, generalized information regarding this AU here: X

Be advised that each of these chapters are VERY LONG. The full content will be tucked under a read more after a brief introduction segment.

DO NOT REBLOG.))

“Arthur...have you been feeling okay?” Vivi asked, taking a seat beside Arthur as he focused on the project before him. He’d been fiddling with robotics for a while just as a hobby, but given how long and hard he’d been working, it looked like Arthur was working on an even more vital project than any before. He was clumsy with his right hand as he set down a pair of tweezers and looked at Vivi with tired eyes and a weak smile.

“I’ve been better, Vivi.” Arthur sighed tiredly. He’d been back from the hospital for nearly a month now - two and a half months since he’d lost his arm - and the blond spent nearly every day working on an intense project. “It’s...not too easy adjusting to not having something...” Arthur admitted quietly, staring at the metal bones before him.

“Oh, jinx! I’m sorry, Artie, I-I didn’t mean-!” Vivi started, backpedaling in her sentence before Arthur reached out with his right hand and touched her shoulder. He smiled at her softly, assuring her that it was alright.

“N-no, it’s okay, Vivi. You know it’s not your fault.” Arthur said gently, reassuring Vivi that what had happened was in the past and really there wasn’t anything she could have done. Except maybe not make them go to the cave in the first place. But Arthur refused to entertain that dark train of thought...it might wake him up. “It was just...a lot of crazy coincidences.” That was something he told himself over and over, day in and day out. It helped him feel better about the absence on his left side.

“Hmmm...well...are-are things going better?” She asked, tucking her hair behind her ears, “Is it easier with your cousin and uncle taking care of things?”

“Hmm...uh, well...to a degree.” Arthur answered, turning back to his project and carefully picking up the tweezers. Even after weeks of practice, Arthur still found it hard to adjust to being right-handed...among other things. “Lucan takes care of the front of the shop and does some fixing and Uncle Lance still runs the shop as normal. I help out with checking numbers and making sure bills and such get paid. So, I’m still working. It keeps me busy when I’m not sleeping or working on this thing.”

“So this is...” the blue-hared woman started, looking at the complex assemblage of metal rods, hinges, and wires, along with a lot of other things Vivi didn’t know the particular names of.

“Yep.” Arthur nodded, using the tweezers to carefully arrange a pattern of wires to eventually lead to sensors in one of the digits. He still had a lot of work to do before he was finished with his prosthetic arm.

“Okay um, yeah, um hold it there, for just a second.” Arthur directed as his doctor carefully positioned the first rendition of the blond’s new left arm. Six months had passed and this was going to be the first attempt to connect the false appendage to the specialized port. In that time, Arthur had spent so much time studying and using the nearby university resources, he might as well have earned an honorary degree with what he was attempting. Arthur knew this was going to hurt and he needed his cousin and uncle for support. The pale fingers of his right hand were grasping tight to Lance’s rough gloved hand in worried anticipation.

“Just take yer time, lad.” Lance replied in the softest version of his gruff voice. He wasn’t the most comforting of individuals, but the short-statured Kingsmen was practically Arthur’s parent with how much time he’d put into raising the boy. Arthur wouldn’t have asked anyone else to be there for emotional support. “An’ don’ do anything ye don’ feel ready fer.”

“We ken always do this later if ye need ta iron out some wrinkles.” Lucan offered, giving Arthur a pat on his whole shoulder. As his cousin, it was expected that Lucan would be somewhat close to Arthur. But seeing as the two had bonded so much more closely since Lucan moved to Tempo, the younger Kingsmen might as well have been brothers. All three men looked to the doctor preparing to attach the false arm.

“I wish I could numb the pain for you, Arthur.” He murmured gently, “But this is a prototype and...we need to gauge how well the adaptor works to communicate between the wires and nerves...” The arm had been through so many tests and iterations with the help of the local university and waiting for more tests wasn’t going to work anymore.

The doctor needed results for his paper. The university needed results to keep funding the specialist and Arthur. Arthur needed results...in the form of a new left arm. The chance that there would even be any kind of re-use of his left arm again was enough to motivate Arthur for this improvement.

“I’m ready...just...be careful.” Arthur nodded, gripping his uncle’s hand tighter as the prosthetic’s port approached the adaptor his doctor had installed two months earlier. There was that ominous tingle in the back of his mind, a dark chuckle rising up from the depths as the separated parts got closer. Amber eyes widened in fear as he noticed a small flux of energy and a tiny zap between the ports now just millimeters apart.

“W-wai-!” But he was too late. A pained scream ripped free from him, lightning practically erupting around Arthur’s arm port as everyone was pushed from the blond. Arthur would wake sometime later in a hospital bed, his new arm heavy and limp. He would cry out in angered frustration, causing everyone to leave the room as he pitched anything within reach at those nearby.

He had failed...again! There was nothing this metal arm could do but sit there! It was an arm-shaped paperweight...it was just good for looking like an arm...until he made a metal finger twitch.

“Alright, you ready to test out that coordination, Artie?” Lewis called over the short distance between him and Arthur while Vivi and Mystery watched eagerly. Arthur was going to be practicing more refined movement with his arm, this time it was catching and throwing a ball. A simple task for many, but Arthur had been so focused on preparing his arm, working on it days and nights for months. Vivi was proud to see Arthur regaining himself; the use of his left arm being the most important thing she’s noticed.

“I’m ready!” Arthur called back, flexing his robotic hand to prepare it to catch the baseball. He’s been working on getting back to being left-handed, but had found tasks much easier to accomplish with developed skill in using both his hands. Forced ambidexrty was interesting to accomplish - and he was exceedingly proud of his abilities - but now the point was to get his false arm’s motions up to snuff.

“He’s improved so much!” Vivi says to Mystery as she watches Lewis pitch the ball gently. “I was really worried about him for a while.”

“Yeah...it was a little shaky for a while there, wasn’t it?” Mystery added, internally still angry at himself for using such drastic action. It’s been a solid 11 months since then and still-! Mystery nearly bolted and then forced himself to sit back down with a huff; he was doing his best to contain the canine urge to chase the ball. The first few volleys back and forth were fine, no trouble at all for Arthur. Mystery felt a sudden strange energy in the air as Arthur caught the ball again and perked up as he smelt a strange singe.

“That had some real pep!” Lewis laughed as he ran to catch the ball and prepared to throw it back. He was so glad to see Arthur seemingly back to himself once more. For a while, Arthur had become a near-complete hermit, forgoing any kind of social engagement to get his arm made.

Arthur himself felt almost too relieved to be able to use his arm so easily. Physical therapy with the doctors was tough and mechanical therapy with the robotic majors at the local university was a nightmare...but it was worth it to have a functional arm once again. And the grant money to develop the appendage further wasn’t half-bad either. It was exciting, thrilling even! He almost could feel the electric excitement as he-oh...oh no. Arthur caught the ball and paused his adrenaline rush as he sees electricity dance over his arm again and hears the sizzle of the tennis ball’s singing fibers in his hand. Quickly he passed the ball to his other hand.

“Ah- uh, I think th-that’s enough for now. I think the arm’s getting a little overworked. Ah, um, st-static and all that!” He gives an awkward grin to ease Vivi and Lewis’s sudden confusion. “I’m ah, g-gonna go inside and discharge.” Arthur gave an awkward laugh and scurried to get inside the mechanics shop again, his trio of friends were left worried and confused.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Arthur whispered in a hiss, glaring at his hand as a ribbon of green electricity coiled over the metal. The dark voice in his head merely chuckled as Arthur went to a specialized discharging station in his room.

‘I was bored. You live a very dull life, Kingsmen.’ The voice hummed idly, ‘If you would just allow me to take over-’

“Never! Just-just leave already!” Arthur murmured, sliding into his room and heading for the discharging rod. On the surface, it just let off static electricity. On the inside, there was a battery hooked up and storing the electricity Arthur would often unwillingly produce. He used the power to run a lamp attached to his desk.

‘If I could, I might...but at this moment, I can’t. So I will just bide my time, boy. I am very patient~. And when your friends inevitably abandon you for your behavior~.’ Arthur frowned, furious that he had to deal with this thing all the time. But what could he do? Exorcising a spirit was one thing, but he was sure this being wouldn’t let go after a few holy words, a splash of water, and some special tags.

Arthur might need to find someone who can offer more specialized help than a priest.

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

#curruption au

6 notes · View notes

brainlessacademia · 3 years

Text

Interesting...

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

~fluff~

Word Count: about 2k

Note: hey y'all this is my first ever writing. Please tell me what yall think and what suggestions you have. thanks!.

You hated school

Well mostly you hated English and how difficult it was.

But what definitely didn’t make it any easier was having him as your partner for your classes’ poetry project.

Right when you heard that you two would be partners you couldn’t be more annoyed.

Bakugo seemed to have his same bothered expression on but with a little something else, you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Now you weren’t going to lie.. you did find him attractive. But you knew he wouldn’t go for you. He didn’t seem to reciprocate any kind of feelings. You weren’t even sure he knew your name. What also got you was-

“Hey”

His voice snapped you out of your daydream and brought you back to reality. Which was that you were working together in the library.

You suddenly felt super embarrassed and tried to hide your face from getting red but you don’t think it actually worked.

“Yeah?”, you replied as if you’d been paying attention the whole time.

“So are you going to show me what you ducking got so far or what?” Bakugo snaps.

That’s right you were here to work on the project after all.

You take out the papers from your bag and hand it to him.

As he’s taking the papers from you, his fingers brush over your hands and give you chills ever so slightly.

Why am I getting excited over just his hands touching mine. I’m so dumb. You think to yourself.

He starts skimming your paper.

“Well, can I see yours too?” You ask.

“Mine are fine.” Is all he says.

You roll your eyes. Of course he thinks his is perfect and just wants to check if your work meets his idea of good.

You look around the library and notice all the other kids studying. You look around for a while just seeing if anything will catch your eye. You then look at Bakugo reading your work and you swear you see him look down really fast as if he’d been looking at something else.

Confused, you ask “Uh.. how is it ?”

You wonder if you were just thinking too deep into it. He couldn’t have been looking at you could he ?

“ it’s alright, but i think you should change the third poem thought”

“Oh really, and how about yours? I think I should see yours to know too”

“Mine are good dammit. But since you're being so goddamn annoying I’ll show you them.”

He takes out the papers from his bag and forcefully hands them to you. To your surprise they were actually pretty good. You're wondering how he got so good at English and especially at writing poetry. You looked at him just above the edge of the paper and you swore he was trying to look like he hadn’t been staring at you.

“You misspelled irresistible by the way “ you huff as you give the papers back to him.

“Fuck you.” He says as he snatches them back with just the hint of a smile on his face.

You wonder if you’re just crazy but you can’t but help find him more attractive when he does that.

“I think we’ll only need to meet one other time. I think we got almost everything covered.” You say. You feel almost sad that you won’t really have a reason to meet with him anymore. Then you remind yourself that it’s useless anyway because he doesn’t feel anything.

“Yeah sure whatever.”

The next morning you were up pretty early. No one was in the kitchen yet so you enjoyed the quietness. You hummed while looking around for something to eat. You didn’t really feel like cooking anything so you decided that cereal would do. As you were pouring you noticed that Kirishima walked in.

“ Hey”, Kirishma says

“Hey Kirishima”, you say back.

“Are you seriously just making cereal ?” Kirishima says laughing.

“Come on, I didn't feel like making anything else.” You say tiredly.

“Come on let’s make pancakes I’ll help you.” He says while smiling.

Of course you give in because who wouldn’t want pancakes over cereal. Also you wouldn’t be doing all the work so that’s nice too.

You ended up both making a mess of the kitchen laughing and throwing pancake mix at each other. You and Kirishma got along pretty well. He was always nice and brightened up the mood anywhere he was.

“Okay seriously let’s make a few more than finish up we’ve made a huge mess.” You say as you throw some more flour at him.

“Fineeee” he whines.

You were both laughing and playing around and it wasn’t till you felt a chill go through your body that you realized someone else was there.

You looked over and saw Bakugo standing at the entrance to the kitchen with an almost mad look on his face.

“Oh hey Bakugo want some pancakes?” Kirishma says as he’s pouring batter on the pan.

“What the hell are you guys doing” is all Bakugo says.

“Uhh making pancakes obviously? Need your eyes checked?” You say matching his attitude.

You couldn’t place the emotion on his face. He seemed mad but you wondered why. He was definitely trying to suppress some emotion but what was it? He seemed bothered but more than usual. But he’s always bothered so is there really any difference?

“Just shut up and clean up this mess” Bakugo huffs. He walks and purposely bumps into you while walking towards the pantry.

“Soo you don’t want any ?” You say playfully as you hold up an extra plate with pancakes on it.

“Hell no” Bakugo says while still looking in the pantry.

“Well I’m gonna go get ready for class today” Kirishima says. He’d been eating his pancakes while simultaneously making them which resulted in more of a mess but he actually cleaned it pretty well.

“See ya y/n , Bakugo.”

“See ya” you replied

Bakugo didn’t seem to want to reply, him still putting on an attitude while searching for food.

After Kirishima left, Bakugo turned around and started walking to the table you were sitting at.

“I’m only going to eat this because there’s nothing else to fucking eat.” He yells as he grabs the extra plate and sits across from you.

“Uh huh I’m totally sure there’s nothing else to eat.” You reply.

Later during class you were trying hard not to fall asleep. It’s not like Math was anything fun anyway. Soon the bell rang and class was over.

To your surprise Bakugo caught up to you as you were walking. “I think we should meet again tonight so we can finish the project for good. '' he says.

You were surprised he wanted to meet today when the project wasn’t due for a while.

“Oh sure, Um where do you want to meet?” You ask.

He didn’t reply which you took as he didn’t really have a place to meet. Which further confused you on why he asked to meet suddenly with short notice.

“Well Um we can meet in my room if you’d like ?” You posed. You couldn’t really think of anywhere else to meet, plus you only had little to work on so it shouldn’t take that long.

“Sure whatever, I don’t care. “ he replied.

He seemed not his normal self. Like something was bothering him outside of everything that already bothers him.

“Hey you’re the one who said we should meet what's with the attitude.”

“Yea yea whatever. See you there” is all he said. Before you could say anything back he was already ahead of you to your guys next class.

Next class was science which you didn’t really mind because your lab partner was always high energy. Halfway through the experiment you and Kaminari realized you messed up completely and just created an utter mess of the table. You both laughed it off and tried to fix your experiment but cleaning it up was the worst.

“Hey y/n bet you won’t drink this.” Kaminari laughed while pushing the beaker of god knows what towards you.

“Yea no way how about you I’ll give you 5 dollars ?” You pose.

“Omg 5 dollars you got it ?!” Kaminari yelled while “drinking” but you could clearly tell it was a dumb magic trick.

You roll your eyes.

“Shut up I know you didn’t actually.” You say laughing.

Something caught the corner of your eye. You turned and you noticed Bakugo staring at you and Kaminari with a glare on his face. Bakugo turned away before you had a moment to react. Was he actually looking at us? You thought to yourself. No way and was he mad? But why ? He’d been like this almost the whole day. Maybe something was bothering him. But what did it have to do with me ?

You ended up cleaning everything with Kaminari and class ended soon after.

Back in your room you looked at the clock. 6 pm. You completely forgot about meeting with Bakugo. You two didn’t discuss a time so you just got ready anyway expecting him to show up any moment.

Soon enough about 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door. You got up to open and sure enough it was Bakugo.

“Thanks for setting up a time.” You say sarcastically. You realize you’ve been smiling for a little too long so you stop and try to change the mood.

“So uh... are you going to come in?”

“Waiting for you to move out the goddamn way . He snorts

“Oh right” you reply. Embarrassed you didn’t realize you were blocking the entrance.

You both sat down at your desk. You assumed Bakugo wasn’t going to break the silence so you decided to.

“Can I see your poems so we can decide what order to put them in?” You ask.

Without a word he hands them over to you. You were surprised you didn’t get any sort of back talk or complaints. You decided not to question it and start reading through them.

“I think y-“.

Just as you were about to say something his lips met yours. You didn’t move. Was this really happening you thought to yourself? All the times you thought he didn’t even notice you and now this was happening.

You pulled away and said, “Bakugo what-“.

“I-I like you okay? I didn’t want to say anything about it before but I knew I had to today so there you go.” He said while avoiding your eyes.

You leaned back in and kissed him. You thought he was so cute in this moment so vulnerable and shy, avoiding your eyes.

It gave you a sort of confidence boost.

Know he felt the same way as you.

“Aww why didn’t you tell me before Bakugo”. You said after pulling away.

You noticed he got super red and you pulled him into a hug.

“Well after I saw how much fun you were having with Kirishma and Kaminari I knew I had too soon.”

You pulled away from the hug with a smug look on your face.

“Ohh were you jealoussss ? Was that why I caught you looking at us today ?”

“You’re lying I was looking at you guys.” He said avoiding your eyes again.

“Oh my goodd just admit I know you were. It’s Cute.” You said.

“No I didn’t. Not at all.” He said while rolling his eyes.

“Okkkayy finee.” You said sarcastically.

You gave him another hug and you guys decided to get on the bed and cuddle for a while.

You were surprised he could be so soft and his usual fiery self at the same time. You guys stood like that for a while. You started scratching his head and he seemed to like it. He held you tightly and you wished this could’ve happened earlier.

You sat up a bit and met his eye level. You held on to his hand and questioned, “ waittt does this mean you lied to me ?”

“What do you mean I didn’t lie about anything?” He said. You noticed he looked concerned

So cute.

“You didn’t really wanna work on the project huh.” You said while putting on a fake sad face. He pulled you back down into his arms and ruffled your hair.

“Are you serious? We’re literally cuddling shut up” he said.

“Uh huh so you did lie.” You said playfully. You crossed your arms as if you were mad just to play around with him.

“Fine you know what if you wanted that I’ll just leave.” He huffs while getting off the bed.

“Wait you know I was just jokingggg” you while pulling on his shift for him to come back.

“Exactly what I thought.” He said back while smiling.

“Now come on let’s cuddle. I'm cold without you.”

#mha #bnha #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #my hero imagines #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bakugou x y/n

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imjeralee · 4 years

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 11 - It’s a TRAP!

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Extra Note: this is really my attempt in writing a big case, so shout out to the awesome @crikeygatormate, @alisakagi and @elisanice for their suggestions :) @marydragneell - here is the latest update

It's a TRAP!

…

[It is proposed that poltergeists are actually the emotions of troubled individuals – built up during times of stress. This theory, known as Spontaneous Recurring Psychokinesis suggests that this built-up stress then unconsciously projects outwards in the form of mental energy, which effects the physical environment and produces the phenomena attributed to poltergeists.] … …

The next day, you head to Wyndon Police Station to meet Graves.

You enter the busy establishment, glancing around. Inside, various policemen and women are seated at desks, busily serving people. You tell reception you’re here to see the Chief Inspector and they let you enter and you pass a young male officer of average height standing near the vending machine with a Grapploct, Growlithe and a Herdier in police hats and corresponding uniforms. He glances at you with a grin, chewing on a Lumiose Galette.

"Back again, kooky girl?" he says with a thick brogue, “Heard you solved the Giant’s Seat case. What kinda weird hoodoo did you do this time?”

You ignore him, heading to the Chief Inspector’s office and rap lightly on the door with your knuckles.

“Come in,” says a gruff and stern voice, and you subsequently enter the room.

Manectric sleeps in his basket near the coat stand whilst Arcanine sits in another corner, biting on a chew toy, and a disgruntled-looking Graves sits at his desk, going through some files. He swerves his eyes up to you when you step in and then returns to rifle through the papers before settling them down.

Graves' office is very bland but messy and as Chief Inspector, he is neck-deep with all sorts of cases so you are quite thankful he has made time for you this afternoon. You take the black leather seat opposite him and look at his desk, glancing at the Newton’s Cradle beside a small berry planter where all the leaves are dead and the soil is dried up. There is also a shiny gold plaque with his name and job title on it which thoroughly reminds you again of the authority he holds here.

He scans your face briefly before he says, “You okay, kid?” His mouth keeps moving as you nod in response. He must be chewing gum. “Did you bring it?”

“Yeah,” you delve a hand into your bag and lift out the Dusk ball with Froslass inside; you look at her capsule in your hands before hesitantly placing it on the desk. You are parting ways with her, and you wished you had more time to study and keep her. “...Promise me she won’t get hurt.”

Graves sighs as he takes the capsule and swivels round in his seat, dragging it over to a metal cabinet and pulling out one of the drawers in the middle, dropping it inside. “You know I can’t. There are rules for pokemon that kill, it's out of my jurisdiction.”

“Tell them it’s not her fault,” you protest and he slams the drawer shut, causing you to wince at the loud noise.

“We are not going to debate about this,” Graves grunts as he returns to his desk, the wheels rolling loudly, “You know the drill; the top’s asking for an explanation for the official report. I’m gonna say Leon got taken by a Froslass, you were in the vicinity and since you’re buddies with Leon, you and Charizard followed his trail, leading you to the den. That sound ‘bout right?”

“Yeah.”

Graves nods, picks up his pen and begins signing the forms one by one. “You are aware that you’re not going to get any credit for this, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want any credit.”

With eyebrows raised, Graves then says, “Magnolia gave me an earful the other day. And I should’ve known better too; I shouldn’t have given you that information. She doesn’t want you to work on these cases anymore and neither do I. And stop talking to that homeless guy.”

“That homeless guy is my mentor.”

“That homeless guy is an ex-convict who was charged with the murder of his wife and kid.”

“He didn’t kill anyone, a demon possessed-”

With that, Graves groans audibly with frustration, rubbing his temples, “Arceus, enough with this mumbo jumbo supernatural talk about ghosts and demons, you’re giving me a helluva headache.”

“You’re the one who let me help out with this case.”

“I know, and I bloody well regret it now. What was I thinking? Things are different, you could’ve died back there - both you and Leon, and then I’d have ten dead bodies on my hands, not eight. I’m serious. Just promise me you ain’t gonna do this anymore. Nobody asked you to and nobody expects you to. You’re just a kid. You should be doing the gym challenge or doing something young people are doing these days. Like doing makeup tutorial videos and posting them online. Anything but this.”

“But-"

He interrupts you hastily. “You ain’t one of us so stop acting like one of us. Stop pretending. You ain’t some private investigator and you ain’t some homicide detective. You don’t have the shiny badge, the gun or the right qualifications. If you really wanted to, you’d do it officially, sign up and take some exams or something. You'd get paid a hell lot more too.”

“Graves, I know what I’m doing and I know what I’m getting myself into. I don’t want to join the force and I don’t need to. ”

“Don’t you get it? One day you’re gonna end up dead. The next body we find is gonna be yours and I don’t want that.”

You sit in your seat with a frown, crossing your arms, “If you believed me those years ago, you and I won’t be sitting here having this conversation.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m your goddamn godfather,” Graves barks, his thick brows knitting tightly, his annoyed gaze pinned on your weary form.

“If you had just listened to me all those years ago when I came to the police station then my mum and dad-“

“Goddamnit! How many times do I have to tell you? They’re dead!” he snaps at you, slamming his fist on the table and the papers fly and his pokemon look up.

Upon realization of his harsh tone and his acute frown, he stops, his expression clearing up and dissolving into a remorseful one. Graves plops backwards in his seat with an agitated sigh, fists loosening and his face becoming flushed as he sweeps a large palm through his messy hair before he emits an exhausted groan.

“Look, kid, I…I’m sorry, I ain’t good at these things…and I-I didn’t mean…you’re a good kid, I know you mean well but…this is dangerous, you know?”

“….They’re not dead,” you say quietly before you get up from your seat and head to the door.

As Graves lets out a helpless, exasperated sigh in response, your mind is hazy, filled with unspoken rage and before you know it, you have left Wyndon Police Station.

You’re in a foul mood yet you still have a meeting with Rose in an hour. Taking deep breaths, you head to Wyndon Café to buy an extra large coffee and attempt to cool off by sitting at the fountain and drowning yourself with copious amounts of caffeine.

It’s not often you have an argument with Graves but when you do, it’s usually about the questionable existence of your family.

Your wristwatch blips, indicating that it’s almost the time of the meeting so you quickly finish the rest of your drink and head to the Rose of the Rondelands, the glamorous five-star hotel to the left of Wyndon Stadium.

“This better be worth my time,” you grunt under your breath as you tiredly scrub your face with your hand.

You wonder what this meeting would encompass when you speak to reception and are directed to the tea lounge. Leon has said something to Rose about you. Couldn’t this have been done over email? Your mood improves after you're seated down on one of the plush, cosy red settees whilst being served an array of fancy tea and scones by the well-dressed waiting staff. A pianist plays the Wyndon City theme in an eloquent and tranquil pace whilst regular customers chat over their fancy three-tiered cake trays. The ambience is disturbed as footsteps approach you and you look up.

It’s Chairman Rose and Oleana.

“Good afternoon,” says Rose, who promptly looks at you from head to toe. He’s assessing you already, masquerading whatever opinion he’s already formed in his mind about you with a light smile on his face. He holds his hand out and you stand up and firmly shake hands, “Thank you for coming.”

You have only seen Rose on TV or when he’s in his civilian disguise so seeing him in person and so close is quite the surreal experience. He's shorter than you thought. His assistant is tall and beautiful, and commands an equally empowering presence with her slender frame, complete with a disciplined quietness you haven’t seen elsewhere. In fact, she seems almost…robotic.

They seat themselves down on the couch opposite yours after the formalities are over; Oleana has a designer briefcase with her, which she nestles behind her back. A waiter arrives shortly with a tray carrying a wine glass which he settles in front of Rose on the low coffee table.

Chairman Rose thanks him, picks up the glass and the meeting starts, “Leon’s told me so much about you, I had to meet you myself. First of all, I want to thank you for everything you have done.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” you reply, as Rose takes a sip whilst Oleana sits rigidly in her seat whilst keeping her monotone gaze pinned on your form. Her lips are tightly pursed together, so tiny, that they look like red dots on her face; she resembles those porcelain dolls.

“The work that you do has come to my attention, so I’ve asked you to meet me here today. I’d like to hear more about your experiences. I’m fully aware that you study ghost type pokemon and you deal with the paranormal.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you reply, and you proceed to tell him briefly about yourself and what you do.

Rose nods as he listens, seemingly pleased with everything you’re saying, and his smile widens, “Wonderful, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear for I have a request. I’m about to open a brand new art gallery soon. The grand unveiling was delayed as it’s come to my attention that it may be ‘haunted’. The staff complain incessantly of hearing odd noises and seeing objects moving at night…I’d like you to investigate. Ghost or not, I want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

This sounds right up your alley so you nod, “Of course.”

“Thank you, you will be rewarded handsomely. Oleana will handle this initial consulting fee, your remuneration and paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“Yes, we’ll need you to sign some papers.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Take all the time you need and you’re welcome to bring along any assistants as long as they sign the papers too.”

“No problem,” you reply, “I should be able to get it done in one night. When would you like me to start?”

“Today, if possible. I can’t afford to delay the deadline any further.”

“Understood.”

Rose smiles widely and you continue to engage in small talk such as The Pokemon League, the Giant's Seat Incidence, Leon, Macro Cosmos, before Rose checks his silver, expensive wristwatch for the current time. “I have another meeting at half four so I’ll take you to the gallery right now. Unfortunately I won’t be able to show you around for long."

“That’s fine,” you say and with a plan in mind, Rose and Oleana rise from their seats, gesturing and allowing you to exit first. You’re somewhat nervous and just before you leave the hotel, Oleana fishes out a white tracksuit, cap and sunglasses from the briefcase which Rose puts on quickly.

She nods after he thanks her but remains silent as Rose treks outside in his half-civilian disguise with you beside him. Regardless, the Chairman takes you around the back of the hotel that leads to a dirty and smelly alleyway which consists of a linear path straight ahead that connects to various buildings on the same street. There are a few smokers lurking outside but they don’t pay attention to you.

“This is the quickest route. Please excuse the smell,” Rose says with a chuckle; you’re stunned a man of his calibre is happy to walk through this trashy street in his expensive shoes.

The walk to the art gallery is relatively quick; it’s a few blocks from the hotel and once you have arrived at the steel door of a building that resembles the hotel, with the same red-brick exterior, Oleana takes over, fishes for the key in the briefcase and proceeds to unlock the huge door which opens with a low creak.

A long and narrow corridor with linoleum flooring lies ahead. It's a fire exit, you realise. Your group enters and Rose abandons his disguise and sweeps his fingers through his hair. “This way.”

He leads you through the corridor that splits off to another branching corridor that leads to various staffrooms and the basement, but Rose leads you directly up the stairs and finally, pushes another set of doors and you appear at the visitor’s hall which is a large and spacious, brightly-lit room. The windows are massive and the walls stretch high above your heads. It resembles the typical museum format and layout with many long and huge posters with Pikachus and pictures of legendary Pokemon outlining the various exhibits and a giant plastic Wailord hanging from the ceiling.

“Wow, this is amazing,” you say as you gawk at the Wailored display and Rose chuckles. The art gallery is beautiful...how could it be haunted?

“Thank you,” he says, and your group make their way towards the direction of the visitor’s desk where you see a member of staff manning the desk alongside a familiar figure who glances over at your direction.

You’re stunned to see that this familiar person is none other than Leon; you were getting used to seeing him in casual wear, in a thick woolly jumper or his black sweats. Donned in the tight Champion's shirt, white leggings and the majestic cape, Leon has turned into an entirely different person...

Whilst the receptionist bows her head at Rose, the Chairman looks surprised to see the Champion. “Leon? What are you doing here?”

Leon’s honey-coloured eyes settles on you briefly and you freeze on the spot, your heart begins thumping hard all over again and you inwardly kick yourself in a vain effort to stop. Luckily, Leon quickly averts his gaze to the Chairman and smiles warmly, “Hello Chairman Rose, I just wanted to stop by and make sure everything’s okay.”

“Thank you, Leon, that’s very generous of you. Everything’s fine, your friend here has agreed to help so I’m going to quickly show her around,” Rose says jovially in response; he's scrapped the introductions since he's aware you are both well-acquainted. “Well then, let’s begin, shall we?”

You wonder if Leon’s listening because he returns to stare at you and your heartbeat soars to an astronomical rate as you sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye and you see that he has not stopped; your cheeks grows warm as you contemplate the fact that he is staring at you continuously but Rose and Oleana appear oblivious to this tension between you and the Champion.

Rose heads over to a set of double doors with the sign ‘Right Wing’ above them. You muster the bravery to fully glance at Leon briefly and when your gazes meet, his mouth moves a fraction but ultimately, he is silent, deciding it's best not to say much in the Chairman's presence especially because this is essentially, business. You cannot help but feel Leon is different once he dons the Champion cape and uniform.

He’s distant, painfully so.

Nevertheless, you follow Rose and Oleana inside the right wing with Leon trailing behind and Rose throws open the doors and it’s then you see the true extent of the art gallery’s size and the many treasures he has gathered over the years.

“We have an insect emporium, butterfly exhibit, gems display, antiques section and modern art exhibit,” Rose says proudly, and he continues rambling, going on about the other exhibits in the left wing but as you stare at your new surroundings, your chest clenches and your breathing grows laboured.

A darkness has settled within this very building.

Hoping no-one had noticed your change in demeanour (except Leon, because suddenly he appears worried for you), you turn to Rose and ask, “This is a brand new building?”

You’re aware Leon is watching you and your nerves soar through the roof, but you try your best to focus on the task at hand.

“Yes, but it’s actually smaller compared to other galleries such as the museum in Pewter City. It's only one floor."

“Did you have any problems during construction? For example, any accidents onsite?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

"And did you receive any warnings beforehand about the land you were building on?”

“None whatsoever. It went swimmingly,” Rose replies and you slide your gaze to the ground, to your feet.

At least Rose was smart and didn't build anything on top of ancient burial grounds. But that means there's nothing wrong with the building itself and it's to do with something inside. What is this...feeling? There's something...

Leon observes your reaction until you look up and spot a sign in the corner that says: ‘Dedicated to Edward Rose’.

“Who’s Edward Rose?”

“Excellent question, Edward Rose was one of my ancestors,” Rose says, “He was a lover of art and an avid treasure hunter himself, so the majority of these extravagant items on display were curated by him and I've decided to release them on display to the public. He was a great man."

You lift Rotom out to do an online search on Edward Rose to see what else comes up but there is limited information available.

Rose snaps his fingers and on cue, Oleana hands you several documents from the briefcase which you unfurl properly to study them carefully. It’s a map of the art gallery and several marketing leaflets containing all the exhibits. “Sir,” she says, “Your meeting will begin in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Oleana. I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave now,” Rose says, “I look forward to the results of your investigation.”

“Leave it to me," you assure them.

Rose and Oleana exit after you exchange goodbyes, leaving yourself and Leon in the right wing. Leon, having maintained a distance from you since you had arrived, finally walks up to you and stops by your side as you let your eyes wander over the papers before you fold them back up.

“What do you think?” Leon asks.

You wish he wouldn't ask you this question because you're actually not too sure. For certain, a distinct dark and foreboding presence lingers somewhere in the art gallery but you're not entirely sure where.

"Give me a minute," is all you say, before you begin to wander through the various displays and exhibits and Leon joins your side, falling in line with you, step by step. “The guards are right. There’s something here,” you utter as you glance around and he follows where you are looking but you are moving too fast for him so he has a hard time catching up.

You are purposely attempting not to look at him and he ends up following you through the right wing and all the way to the left wing, and back.

Unfortunately, you come to one drastic conclusion: “I can't tell right now. Entities are more active at night so I will need to come back when it's dark.”

Your brief investigation is over, so you and Leon exit the art gallery and onto the large stone steps. Once you’re outside with the Champion, you see that the art gallery is stationed on a cosy-looking street of Wyndon, far from the crowds. It’s more of a suburban area that is filled with quaint cafes and souvenir shops.

Glancing behind you to the building, the art gallery is very normal; it is a large and extravagant building in plain sight. A billboard stands to the left, just before the grand staircase, outlining the unveiling date and where to sign up for RSVP.

“How are you anyway?” you ask, as you stuff Rose's papers into your bag.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks for asking.”

You don’t think it is wise to ask him why he didn’t reply to your message which you think he is aware of, because he looks sheepish all of a sudden.

“I met Ezra at the soup kitchen,” he adds and you quirk a brow, “he wanted me to give you this. He said it needs one more spirit and that you'll understand.”

He takes out the Odd Keystone from his pockets and hands you the smooth stone.

"Thanks.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Leon asks quietly, but you shake your head and deposit the stone in your bag then scoop Rotom out, typing a quick message.

“There’s no need, I’ll ask Jace for help,” you utter under your breath.

“Jace…?” Leon murmurs, and he throws his gaze to the side.

He sounds hurt.

“Yeah, so…I better get ready for tonight. I don’t want to take up any more of your precious time either. Bye Leon,” you say quickly, before you hop down the stairs and towards the Corviknight taxi ranks.

“Ah, right…goodbye,” he says, but you didn’t hear.

You wonder if you had unintentionally made Leon feel bad.

…

It’s almost night-time and much preparation is needed for the case.

Although preparation in your books, is getting as much sleep as possible before you woke up later on in the evening to get ready and head out.

Along with the leaflets, Rose has sent you an extremely confidential pdf file that contains the list of all the displays and exhibits inside the gallery so you have an electronic copy. Overall, it’s a lot to go through, so you move onto the transcripts of the hauntings taken down by the terrified staff.

It’s the usual: doors opening and closing, knocking on the walls, grunting, growling and to top it all off, moving pieces of furniture.

Sounds like poltergeist activity which isn’t unusual in your books, and you finish packing your bag with your essentials.

You go through the papers Rose wants you to sign and it’s all legal affairs. If you are injured on premises, Rose and Macro Cosmos bear no liability. If you break anything in the art gallery, you’re also fully liable. No pokemon battles are allowed. If you steal, you will be prosecuted.

After skimming through the main points, you sign them and then send a copy to Jace to sign.

You’re meeting him at Wyndon at the agreed time and you’ve briefed him on the investigation. He is eager to accompany you and when you arrive, he hastily waves you over.

He insisted on matching outfits to make a statement, so here you are both dressed from head to toe in all manners of black clothing.

“Jace, thanks for doing this. What have you brought with you?” you ask, gawping at the black rucksack that’s hanging off his shoulders. He’s also got Joltik’s capsule stuck to his belt.

“Glad you asked!” he exclaims as he loops the bag off himself and unzips it after settling it on the ground. Jace reveals that he has packed a headlight, night vision and heat vision goggles, a tripod camera, heat detecting monocular, digital voice recorder and EMF recorder.

It's basically everything you don’t need and don’t use.

“At least take the headlight,” he moans when you tell him this.

“No thanks, I’m fine with my trusty torch. But you should definitely use those," you say, gesturing to all his equipment.

"Alright..." Jace pouts and packs his bag back up; he keeps his headlight on and EMF recorder in hand.

You’re supposed to meet Rose’s delegate at the ticketing booth, so you both head up the stairs, arriving at the main entrance where you and Leon stood a few hours ago in the daylight.

A security guard can be seen sitting in the booth along with a Clefki hanging from one of the hooks on the wall. You knock on the window and he looks up from his magazine.

“Oh, are you the pokemon researcher?”

“Yep, that’s me. And this is my assistant, Jace.”

“Hi.”

“Great,” says the security guard, “the more the merrier. Thanks for coming, I'll be your guide.”

“No problem.”

The security man leaves the booth along with Clefki before he grabs a flashlight from his pocket and switches it on. “Come with me.”

You and Jace trail after the man as he wanders to the front door with Clefki who promptly sticks one key inside and unlocks it.

The lights are switched off inside and you realise it’s worse when it’s dark, and as the man shuts the doors behind you, he beckons you to follow him once again.

“My name is Horace,” he says, “I called Ms. Oleana the other day and I didn’t think they would take me seriously, but it turns out I wasn’t the only one. The cleaners, the other security guards, they all came forth and said the same thing.”

“Which is what?” Jace asks.

“I’m pretty sure Mr Rose was warned, but there’s something evil in there,” Horace says with a slight shiver, and you’re aware that he is incredibly uncomfortable speaking about it, “He has a hell lotta old stuff and it’s all in there on display….I’m certain some of them are cursed or something so that’s where we need your help along with…uh, these guys.”

You see two young men standing at the visitor’s desk; the brunette is holding a camera whilst the blonde is tapping away on his phone.

“Rose wanted a second opinion so you’re not gonna be alone in this. He’s asked these guys for help too.”

You and Jace exchange incredulous glances before you settle your gazes on the two men. You weren’t aware of this arrangement at all.

The blonde has a tattoo of a Machamp on his neck and the brunette has a thick beard and bandanna. Both are donned in warm coats and they’re both carrying rucksacks that rattles noisily with equipment.

“Oh, if it isn't the Witch of Wedgehurst,” says Machamp-tattoo man as he looks up and eyes you head to toe. You spot a red and black checkered shirt underneath his coat and a gold necklace around his neck.

"The what?" you say, stunned.

"You know that's what people call you, right? I know who you are, I recognise you; you're the ghost-type researcher."

"Yes, but I've never heard people calling me the Witch-"

"Oh, well, you have now," he says, and as you do a double take he adds, “I’m Tanner. This is my camera man, Cole.”

“Hi,” says the bearded one, as he balances the large and hulking, black camera on one shoulder as though it weighs nothing.

“We’re the Ghostbunkers,” Tanner says with a grin.

“Ghost…bunkers??”

“Yeah, have you heard of us?” he asks, and you shake your head. His eyes bulges with disbelief. “Have you been living under a rock?”

“Um…”

“Okay, okay, to fill you in, we visit allegedly haunted places and debunk it, okay? Ghosts? No, it’s just a pokemon or something,” Tanner says, “Most of the time, it’s ninety-nine per cent nothing to do with ghosts at all.”

“So what about the remaining one per cent?” Jace asks, and it’s a perfectly logical question but Tanner merely laughs.

“Well, that’s not our forte.”

“Fair enough.”

Tanner’s focus averts to you. “Well, this is the first time I’ve had to collaborate with someone without being told,” he then grumbles sourly. “Cole, remind me to double Rose’s rate.”

“Got it, T.”

“Rose didn’t tell you guys that we were coming either?” you ask, brow raised and Tanner nods. Pondering to yourself, you slip in a quick and polite, “Please excuse us.”

Whilst Horace the security guard and the duo look at you with unamused looks, you and Jace hurry to a corner.

"Jace, people call me a 'witch' behind my back," you murmur. You have to admit; you're not too surprised about this. You already get called a kook, what else? “This can’t be happening. Have we been played?”

“What do you mean?” Jace whispers back.

“I thought we would be the only ones here,” you reply, “And these guys? The Ghostbunkers??? What the hell?”

“He said his name was Tanner, right? And his BFF is Cole…” Jace says, before he pulls out his phone and begins searching online. “Aha! Found them…”

You both huddle over Rotom’s tiny screen where Jace has found Tanner’s ‘Ghostbunkers’ website. It appears they are also from Galar. The brief description mentions he has ten years of extensive experience of the supernatural and hunting ghosts but he created this channel one year ago.

“Arceus, ten years. That’s more than me,” you croak out whilst Jace rolls his eyes, “and he has his own channel... he has a theme song. He even gets fanart.”

Next, you see dozens and dozens of comments from his fans, declaring their support and love for him and his work.

Your blog hardly has any views, you only have a sparse number of followers, you rarely get comments and you've never received fanart. Your face falls with gloom at this thought; your esteem has being whittled away into nothingness in an instant.

“So what?” Jace is quick to cheer you up, but you give him an exasperated look and continue to look at the information provided.

Tanner’s videos channel received fifty thousand views on average. His most popular upload is a video with one million views where he spent one entire night in Lavender Tower. The next most popular upload is a video where he traversed through the Old Chateau in Eterna Forest. He’s debunked a lot of allegedly haunted places all over the world, attributing it to ghost-type pokemon.

“You gotta be kidding…he’s a skeptic, which is the last thing we need,” you grunt under your breath. “Damn, I should’ve known. I had this weird feeling about Rose, like it was too good to be true. This isn’t surprising of him at all.”

“Now what do we do?”

“Well, we’re already here…let’s see this through.”

Jace gulps. “Okay.”

You return to the men and the security guard briefs you on the recent happenings but the dynamic duo decide to set the camera rolling and before Horace can say anything, the camera is focusing on you.

“Hey, do you mind if we collaborate?” Tanner asks.

“I don’t really collaborate…”

“Suit yourself then,” Tanner looks mildly displeased with the rejection. “Well, we’re going to be filming anyway. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.”

“Great!” Turning to Cole, he says, “Let’s begin.”

“Got it,” Cole replies, and he fixes the camera appropriately, a little red light goes on. You assume it’s recording now.

Tanner clears his throat and tidies his hair before he puts on a huge grin. “Hello fellow debunkers!! And welcome back to my channel. How are ya? Tanner here tonight, with another exciting ghost-bunking mission!” Tanner exclaims, and you can’t help but inwardly groan as you watch him. “Tonight, we’ve been invited to an art gallery that’s rumored to be haunted. As usual, it’s just me and my best friend Cole – but we actually have a few guests with us today.”

On cue, Cole swiftly navigates the camera to focus on Horace who blinks blankly at the duo. “Oh, uh…hello, hi.”

“This is Horace. Horace, do you mind telling us what you do and can you share a few words about this place and what’s been going on?”

“Yeah, so… I’m one of the security guards here. Last night…maybe around two am, I was making rounds and I heard this weird banging noise on the wall, in there-“

He points to the doors behind you, where you’re supposed to be investigating.

Horace says, “I went in and checked the whole area but nobody was there. It didn’t stop, it just grew louder and louder and it moved, like it started at the end of the hall and it came closer to me. Then a chair flew across the room. Whatever it is, it’s mean and angry."

Tanner thanks Horace for the introduction and the information, the camera still rolling.

“Well, this is where I’m supposed to leave you guys.” Horace adds, “I’m the only one on watch duty tonight but I’m going to be outside so I don’t bother your investigation. You can reach me using this walkie talkie so keep this on you at all times so you can contact me,” he proceeds to hand you and Tanner each a small and sleek black device. “I’ve kept it tuned to mine but if you’re worried, the channel is eighty-two, got it?”

“Things just got interesting, folks.” Tanner says to the camera with a wink.

“I need to keep the building locked though because we don’t wanna let anyone else in, you know, in case of burglars…some of the stuff here is worth millions...so let me know when you want to leave and I’ll unlock the doors for you.”

With that, Horace wishes you luck and excuses himself and you watch him pad towards the entrance with Clefki, watching the light of his torch gradually disappear and you and Jace and the Ghostbunkers are standing in darkness.

Cole stops recording and Tanner finally drops his smile, turns to you and says, “Are you really an exorcist?”

“I’m not an exorcist,” you reply with a shake of your head.

“What with Bob the Builder?” Tanner gestures to Jace and his getup.

“Bob the-?! What?! I’m her assistant,” Jace barks, pointing to himself.

Tanner focuses on you again. “Are you some kind of spirit medium? A clairvoyant?”

“No, I’m just a ghost-type researcher.”

“Oh good, at least we’re on the same page,” Tanner says, “It’s most likely a pokemon that’s behind this, don’t you think?”

“It’s too early to say.”

Tanner sighs audibly under his breath, “Well, the art gallery is pretty big. Cole and I can take the left wing and you and your friendo can take the right wing. That means we can get things done quicker. How does that sound?”

You nod. “That sounds alright.”

“As long as you two don’t get in our way, we’re good,” Tanner replies; despite the words, he delivers them with a rather crooked smile.

You and Jace exchange brief looks before you begin to head to the direction of the two double doors that will leads to the right wing.

Meanwhile, Cole focuses the camera on Tanner who eagerly begins speaking to the camera, outlining his steps and what equipment he has tonight with great detail and vigor whilst you and Jace stop at the doors.

“I have a bad feeling about those guys,” you whisper as you switch on your flashlight and unfurl the map.

“If this place is really haunted, I hope the ghost grabs them first,” Jace murmurs under his breath.

"Ready?" you ask.

"Ready," he confirms.

You push open the door; it swings open with a low creak and slowly swings on its hinges. You shine your torches into the dark abyss of the art gallery, your gaze sweeping over the many displays. You will be here for the remainder of the night.

"Good luck!" Tanner yells, a fraction before you step inside, "You're gonna need it."

#leon #leon x reader #Leon x you #reader #reader insert #jeralee #comfort in despair #fanfic #fic #archive of our own #pkmn #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemon shield and sword #marydragneell

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lyricfrost13 · 3 years

Text

BNHA/Naruto reincarnation au

Ok ok so the trope is that one character is reincarnated into another world, either as another character or as a new insert in the world right? I had a kind of cracky idea for this one.

It’s a bit long but basically a ton of characters from My Hero die during the War arc and are reincarnated as Naruto characters, which changes canon timeline but not a ton at first because they all think they’re the only one. Like, literally Minato is All Might, Aizawa is Kakashi - Team 7 is Izuku (Naruto - trust me I know it’s weird, but nearly-adult Izuku in a child’s body is here to cause problems on purpose), Bakugou (Sakura - the temper and eventually the ability to smash boulders? Yes. I know Naruto and Sakura could be flipped but I have Reasons), and Todoroki (Sasuke - evil older brother, fire stuff, kinda stoic) - there’s more under the cut because I don’t have the energy to write an actual entire fic but I need to put it down. Maybe at some point I’ll write the rest.

Yagi thought it was a dream for a while. Thought it was a nightmare, some days - but being Namikaze Minato was oddly satisfying in that he earned every bit of his power along the way. He was proud of it, the strength and speed and intellect. The only person he ever told about his old world was Kushina - and she believed him. His heart ached when his team fought and died and fought more - he tried to reach Kakashi in his grief, but the boy wasn’t happy.

Aizawa doesn’t tell a soul that he’s someone else, that he’s a fraud, not a genius. He doesn’t dare make a friend in Obito or Rin, still aching because all he can think is Mic and Oboro and his fucking class all gone. Minato’s sunny smiles in the midst of being a deadly destroyer of armies makes him think of All Might and Izuku, the heroes, the best of them. It hurts when it’s all taken away, and he uses his knowledge of how not to strain eye-related powers to cover his Sharingan when not in use and dives into ANBU to avoid thinking too hard about everything.

Touya aches. He’s a genius of his clan, blew his first fireball so hot that it charred his throat for a week and glowed blue-white instead of red. This world doesn’t leave him burned beyond repair, and killing isn’t what makes a villain - but he still becomes one, for his little brother’s sake, because while Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto are gone, he still has Sasuke. (Another suicide mission fueled by revenge - only this time it’s him that has to die in the end, not his father.) Itachi’s new flames are black, not blue.

Hawks is tired of lies. So tired of being loyal to a system that’s full of false promises. He might be a shark instead of a bird now, but he still flies the coop and joins up with a group that comfortably reminds him of the League.

Izuku grieves everyone - of course he does - in the quiet of his little apartment. He’s reminded again and again of the fact that he’s different for whatever reason. This time, instead of crying, he shouts - he laughs - he pranks the shit out of everyone to just be noticed for something that’s actually under his control. If he can’t be the #1 hero, then dammit he’ll be Hokage - the strongest leader he can manage to be.

Katsuki doesn’t know what the fuck to do. One, he’s become a girl - gender didn’t really matter all that much to him compared to strength and intelligence before, but it was still weird. What frustrated her more was his lack of quirk - explosions had defined Bakugou for so long that frankly, she was still going to research Iwa’s explosion corps and do something about that to add to her repertoire. Somewhere along the line Ino attached to her like the limpet Kirishima and Mina always had - getting up in her personal space without caring one way or another, understanding when she refused to speak, encouraging her temper every once in a while. The one annoying thing is that Ino interpreted her need to get stronger than the current projected Rookie of the Year as a crush. Which - no. Sasuke was objectively good looking for a kid, but he was also intellectually a hell of a lot younger than Katsuki-Sakura, and he always uncomfortably reminded her of Todoroki.

Shouto thrives at first - glad not to be the only one with expectations, even if he winces at the idea of an older brother shouldering so much responsibility. He lives for having an older brother to look up to, to get close to. He’s a little miffed that his clan’s specialty is fire-based, but hey, at least his father doesn’t expect him to be his successor - until he does. Until Itachi starts going on more and more missions, poking his forehead and saying “Another time, little brother,” more and more often. And then the massacre happens, and Sasuke wonders why he ever trusted that things would be so stable and ok. He’s going to get strong, drag Itachi kicking and screaming back to Konoha, and rip his eyes out so he never does that again.

...

Kakashi is late again. Sasuke was more irritable than usual - after Wave, their sensei had promised to help him learn the Ice Release that Haku had done, and he’d really wanted to have that in his arsenal to have something more familiar. Sakura and Naruto had begun sparring in their boredom, and in the middle of it, Naruto slipped and hit one of Sakura’s sore spots from the mission. She snarled.

“Fucking deku, what the hell!” she said.

Naruto yelped and fell forward, following through too far on a punch, eyes wide. Sasuke stared, blinking.

“Interesting,” said Kakashi’s voice behind them. Sasuke was staring at Sakura in shock, and Naruto looked like he was staring at a ghost. Sakura’s cheeks were turning pink.

“What are you looking at me like that for?!” she demanded.

“Problem children,” Kakashi said. All three faces whipped to face him, mouths gaping, eyes wide.

“ . . . Aizawa-sensei?” asked Shouto quietly.

“What?” demanded Bakugou. “All of us? Who the fuck are-Icy-hot? Deku?”

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s expression on Naruto’s features was - well. Kakashi cursed inwardly - had things gone well, fuck, he’d be the kid’s older brother figure. This wouldn’t have gone this far. But the elation of not being alone was too much, even with that sting of he was right in front of me and I did nothing.

“If we’re all back here,” Sasuke said quietly, “Who else might be?”

“Well, this changes things for us, but not for anyone else,” Kakashi explained. “As far as the world knows, we’re the same as we’ve always been. However, you studying Iwa explosion tactics and you wanting to learn ice release jutsus makes a lot more sense now.”

. . .

Gaara had always had it in him to destroy. From dust to sand to death - it was all the same. The Ichibi raging against a jagged seal had only exacerbated an already damaged mind, one that couldn’t handle the empty space where All for One used to be. Instead stood rage.

Yashamaru had helped, for a while. Gaara had almost even considered telling his greatest secret to his siblings - that he was once a terrible monster of a human, Shigaraki - but his uncle’s death shattered that thought quite thoroughly. That was all it took to turn him once again into a monster, until a kid with another tailed beast inside him raged against his pain hard enough to scrape at his most protected secret: He didn’t want to be a monster or a villain.

Naruto had that blinding smile as he fought he’d only seen a few times before - on Midoriya Izuku.

. . .

When Itachi next faced Sasuke, he had expected pain and rage.

Instead, his little brother created a prison of ice mirrors, Sharingan flashing as he finished the sequence of signs. His teammates screamed from outside the dome, and Itachi grimaced as he readied a stance - when had Sasuke learned anything about ice? Why would he -

“You’re going to give me answers, aniki,” he said. “One of which is this: Touya, what the hell?”

Itachi stared. And stared.

“You-Shouto?”

“Apologies for not having the hair dye remover and livestream set up, but yes,” he replied.

. . .

Shikamaru was . . . well. He wasn’t an idiot. Talking about reincarnation and heroes and another life was a way to get a trip to T&I and never leave. It didn’t mean he didn’t use his skills - Aizawa would be proud of how lazy his son had gotten in his next life, he bet.

So when he saw Team Seven act a lot differently at the beginning of the chunin exams than he recalled, he was on high alert to find out what was going on. Naruto had learned some level of volume control, Sakura had tempered whatever her issue with Sasuke was, and Sasuke had - not softened, but definitely cooled off. Seemed more attentive to his teammates.

And Kakashi had certainly become more present, if the way they were presenting themselves with high-quality gear was any indication.

Chunin Exams, Sports Festival - didn’t matter, he was still going to prove himself. No matter the fact he didn’t have his quirk anymore, he still kept asking questions.

“Hey, Sakura. Naruto. Sasuke. You ready for this?”

“We’re going to pass,” Sakura said. “No other option.” He raised a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Sakura-chan said it, so she means it,” said Naruto. Sasuke nodded.

“What about you and your team?”

“Well, it’d be a drag to take the exam again. Guess I’ve got to get the promotion now,” he sad, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Gotta scope out the competition - I’m not here to make friends.”

All three stiffened, and Naruto’s eyes lit up.

“Shinsou!”

Shikamaru spluttered.

“Wh-what?!”

“You’re not the only one,” said Sakura immediately. “Shoulda figured, eyebags. Would have thought Aizawa would be a Nara too, but it still fits.” Shikamaru was, of course, reeling.

“Aizawa’s here?! Wait, who are you three, then, if you know?”

“I’m Deku,” said Naruto, and yeah, that tracked.

“Who the fuck else?” asked Sakura, and yep, her temper and Bakugou’s were just about the same amount of hair-trigger. Which left -

“And you’re Todoroki,” he said. Sasuke nodded.

“Kakashi’s Aizawa. He’s gonna be really glad that you’re here, Shinsou. Talk to him when you get the chance.”

. . .

“You might be a monster, but so am I,” Naruto insisted as Gaara’s wild gaze turned on him.

“No, no, I was born a monster,” Gaara insisted. “I destroyed everything I touched, it all was decay, I ended a world -”

Oh. Oh.

“And All for One’s gone now,” he said.

The Ichibi’s form flickered, and the sand surrounding the boy flailed whiplike and dangerous.

. . .

Naruto entered the seal and frowned. It - his body, his spirit felt different. Somewhere between Naruto and Izuku. The mindscape shimmered, and a blond figure stepped forward - the First Hokage. But another step forward, and he shifted into someone else equally, no, more familiar. Naruto choked.

“All Might?!” he gasped. “You’re the Fourth? But - how - how is this?” he was helpless for words. Minato stiffened, staring at how the spirit before him shifted back and forth between a young man with whisker marks and blue eyes and a mop of green fluffy hair.

“Izuku? You’re Naruto?” he asked quietly. His son nodded vigorously.

“It seems I’ve bestowed quite the power and burden on you twice over,” he mused. “Come here. It’s not every day a father gets to see his son for the first time in over a decade,” he said, arms open. Naruto blinked.

“My - my father?”

“Yes,” he said with a sad smile. “I only ever told your mother about my past life. She even believed me!”

Izuku-Naruto stumbled forward and sobbed into Minato-Yagi’s shoulder, clutching him tightly.

“It’s not just us,” he said, “Aizawa and Todoroki and Kacchan and Shinsou and - there’s more out there, I’m sure of it. Not everyone, but more. And I’m going to save them all this time.”

Minato smiled.

#bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fic ideas #naruto #reincarnation au #imagine #crossover #fic idea #au #my fic #my writing

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tangerinegod · 4 years

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Hello! I am sorry to bother you but I am a senior getting ready for college this year. I am in the US and I wanted to major in the same thing you did, do you have any possible tips for me? I still haven't even looked for colleges that would be best for animation majors so I figured if you were up to giving out any tips/saying any basic ideas if you wanted to/if you had the time to then maybe I'll have a better idea! I apologise for if I sound weird! I'm tried to word it correctly but I can't 😿

hi!! i’m totally down to share my experiences! someone else also had some questions so i’m going to put them all together in this post haha, hopefully this helps! it’ll get pretty long so apologies ahead of time but art school is a lot to think about so i wanna be as helpful as i can around it, its a lot of time and money. I’m gonna put it all under a read more cus it is really really long!

i wanna start off with the fact that I had the privilege of attending school in a financially stable environment, my parents were/are really supportive so w merit scholarship i only came out with around 20-30k in debt and i also had housing support my entire time in school. they were ok with me focusing on academics so i didn’t hold a retail job unless i was out of school like summer/winter break. Ofc though i regularly take commissions/do merch/cons to try and pay for all bills that arent rent cus i did want to be financially independent where it was possible. I also did try and work during the semester but everytime i did my body would deff start to breakdown from the fact that i didnt wanna compromise schoolwork with jobs.. so just read ahead know this experience is from a student who was able to attend focusing only on school work for most of the time!

the biggest thing is knowing art school is not required to become a professional in either freelancing or industry! there are a huuuge amount of online tools and classes these days that provide the exact same education and for cheaper too. i think it depends on what experience you prefer/can handle/want but it’s definitely possible to make art/animation art your living without higher education. the thing that college will for sure give you though is the ability to meet deadlines, work even when you dont want to, and connections with peers+teachers. i think the connections part is invaluable because you’re basically coming out with a network of people you already know and who know you!

also its good to know if you want to attend/can handle art school! it’s a lot of time and energy and students get burned out really fast. the best piece of advice i got before going was ‘if you draw every single day, even if its for only like 5-10 minutes or a doodle for a whole year you should be fine’ consistency is super key because you’re attending school to draw, and you’ll have to create work for stuff you aren’t excited for at some point or another. burnout is extremely real and the only reason i didn’t experience it was probably because i got super into drawing naruto fanart again inbetween sophomore and junior year! it helped give me something to draw seperated from school which is the only thing i was drawing for since i had entered rip. a heads up id also consider myself a workaholic so i fit in ok with the ‘art school’ environment but it is suuper unhealthy. if you are fantastic at managing your schedule then it’s definitely possible to take care of yourself! freshman year i got 8 hours a sleep a night and only pulled all nighters for some second semester finals at the end. sophomore year + up though i ended up prioritizing hw over sleep and like for sure, definitely shortened my life span. there’s another q down below where i’ll go more into detail but ya, be careful w ur work balance!

another tip especially for animation is knowing for a fact what type of animation you’re looking to go into, and what the school is offering. I didn’t think i’d get into art school at the time so i only applied to two places + decided if i didnt get into either id attend community to get credits out of the way while building portfolio. honestly? i did not do a lot of research LOL but like i did end up having the chance to tour and stuff! just know that each school will have a very different curriculum. The main differences are schools that prioritize 3D (cg animation, cg modeling, ect) and 2D/traditional (hand drawn, ‘oldschool’, digital or traditional based) this is a huge difference so make sure you do research for it! in most cases a 2D/traditional program will also offer 3D since it’s at the forefront of the industry animation wise rn. My school taught 2D but like hand drawn on physical paper 2D, frame by frame. while it was a good experience it’s super outdated because digital tools make it way faster + easier! i’d recommend looking for a program that is digital 2D over traditional 2D.

if after your senior year covid is still affecting campuses in the US to keep them shut down i’d recommend attending a community college to get credits and then transferring into school. one of the negatives is paying money for gened classes when ur not there for them; if you can get them out of the way sooner and cheaper there is absolutely no negative + you could graduate earlier or use the extra time for better work or to work a job!

these are all the general tips i think i’d give on like a broad basis of attending or not to think about? let me know if u have more q’s! someone asked q’s im answering below that go more into personal experiences + work culture so heres those:

- how many hours a week do u spend studying, in class, otherwise making art? like how much of ur life does it consume?

I was basically working on art.... 24/7! since i wasnt working a job at the same time i crammed as many credits as possible into my schedule so on avg i did 18 credit semesters (around 6 classes) art classes go for 6 hours and non art go for 3, so i’d spent around 30-35 hours in class a week! hw wise it varied on the class but combined it would be around 35-50 hours a week... im guessing? on average studio classes would have 8-10 hours of hw, maybe 5 for a light week, and gened classes 5 hours w them all combined. or this was probably how things were before junior year? junior+senior year i had thesis + everything else ontop.. i’d spend around 30-40 hours on thesis a week with other classes ontop of that bc my film was super long cus im a dummy!

- is it hard going to art school n realising that altho u were probably quite talented… so is everyone else? Like. all of a sudden. ur not special and everyone seems as good as u, you know? More generally, how do u deal with comparison?

kinda?? i think instead of the idea of like you vs others it feels more of like a competition at first to be the best. this varies hugely on school culture though; my animation year was really friendly with each other and get along extremely well, so my answer to this is v different than some others who attended different schools. i think that the idea of ‘comparison’ only lasts a portion of the first year because at some point you realize that it’s not a who’s better as much as its a ‘these are my coworkers’ type thing? like healthy competition 100% because we’re all working to improve but i think most of us learned pretty early on that viewing each other as peers going into the same workforce helped a lot. also at some point everyone develops their own style/starts to develop their artistic preferences so there isn’t a way to compare whos 'better’ anymore? i dont think there ever is tbh because style is appealing based off of an individuals preferences. If anything realizing everyone else is also amazing makes you wanna work harder ig? or thats how i felt! it’s inspiring to be surrounded by so many people who create such amazing work.

- is there a lot of workaholic culture? all nighter culture?

100000% there can be a workaholic and all nighter culture. i know people who avoided it and thats honestly fantastic because i fall super easily into that pit. sometimes i’ll pull all nighters on a personal project just because i really want to finish it... i am definitely considered a workaholic all the way through and its not healthy rip... i’d estimate at the worst i was pulling 2-3 all nighters a week and only 4-5 hours of sleep on the nights i didn’t? that was only for one year tho, after that i was like yeah ok this is really bad for my health in the long run LOL so i tried to cut it down to one all nighter a week and around 5-6 hours of sleep the rest of the week! by senior year my decision to cram in full semesters paid off and i was able to consistently get around 7 hours of sleep a night + no all nighters minus finals since my schedule was lighter despite thesis 😭 while there is that culture i don’t think people view it as like a badge of honor or something to be proud of anymore which is good, we mostly view it as a flaw of the art school system and something that needs to be fixed!!

- are you glad u did it? how did u know it was what u wanted?

i am glad i did it! i’m definitely in a limbo right now of if it was worth both my time, money, and my parents money rip but i think with what i got out of it i definitely wouldn’t be as far skill wise or knowledge wise when it comes to the art industry. i would say it was only worth it for be because i had so much support going in though so i was able to focus so much on improving. if i had only been able to put in part of the effort and not make full use of the resources provided i would honestly have a different answer..

i knew it was what i wanted when i realized i really couldn’t see myself pursuing a different profession happily! despite all the bumps and stuff im fully in love with drawing still and feel honored that it’s a field that can provide a living. my second profession choice was to go into culinary school? and third option i think going was into music cus i was also a band kid hehe.

- how do u cope with ur hobby becoming ur job? how do u deal with art going from something u do for fun to something u do on command constantly?

i think seperating work art from personal art is important! in my case im doubling naruto into being personal work so i have something to fall back onto that isn’t work related. its been a hyperfixation for 12+ years? so drawing it at this point is just like personal art imo. some people have hobbies outside of art and only draw for their job! i think after attending classes for so long the idea of hobby turning into job feels extremely natural? also i enjoy doing it so thats a huge plus!

sorry this is SO long but i hope i answered your guys’ questions! if you have more just lmk!

#anon #ask #long post #im so so sorry this is like long as shit #ill literally tell you guys everything though art school should not feel like a mystery esp if ur planning to go into it!#Anonymous

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

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Stupid Teen Emotions

@forduary Week three is travel/trapped. In this story, Stan and Ford TRAVEL back to the past, where they become TRAPPED! It fits!

Chapter 1: Back in My Day

They didn’t sleep well, that first night. Ford stayed up late, because of course he would have stayed up into the wee hours of the night working on his perpetual motion machine in the original timeline. But he barely touched the project. With the knowledge he had now, he could probably build the whole thing tonight, but that would, of course, be changing the timeline. A younger Ford had learned a lot, working so hard and so long on this machine, and future Ford didn’t want to deprive his past self of that important lesson. So instead, he began writing, racking his brain for anything he could remember of January, 1969.

Stan tried to sleep at first, but he just couldn't. He was too anxious and excited, all rolled into one. So he instead dug out a few of his old comic books that never got thrown away.

They both must have fallen asleep at some point, because come morning, there was a rapping at the door that woke them both with a start.

“Get up, you two! You’re gonna be late for school!” A woman with a thick Jersey accent yelled through the door.

“M-mom?” Ford’s head lifted blearily off his desk.

“Wow, you are really taking the whole ‘stick to the timeline’ thing seriously.” Stan mused from his bottom bunk.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep at my desk…” Ford groaned.

“You never do, Sixer, you never do.”

They marched downstairs and into the kitchen, where their mother had a breakfast of hot cinnamon and apple oatmeal waiting for them. Stan was so happy to see her, he ran over and hugged her, pecking a swift kiss on her cheek.

"Aww, sweetie!" She planted a kiss on his forehead. "I'm still not paying your parking ticket." She added flatly.

"What parking ticket?" Stan asked, confused. "Oh, um, I mean, drat."

Ford was too tired to even work up the energy to be happy to see his mother. As he sat down, he automatically reached for the coffee pot. But a rolled up newspaper smacked his hand away.

“What d’you think you’re doin’?” Caryn asked, eyebrow raised.

“... getting my morning coffee?” Ford answered, addled.

“How many times do I have to tell you, honey? No coffee ‘til you’re 18. It’ll stunt your growth!”

Ford looked like he was about to have a fit.

“Wait, are we not 18?” Stan asked quickly. Luckily, his parents ignored his out-of-place comment.

“Ya don’t need coffee, ya need more sleep!” Filbrick grunted from behind his newspaper.

“You both drink ten cups a day!” Ford argued, his voice cracking again.

“That’s cuz we’re adults.” Filbrick growled, “Once you’re old an’ decrepit, you can drink all the coffee ya want.”

“Trust me, he will.” Stan said flatly.

Ford kicked him under the table. Hard. Stan cried out.

“Can it, you two!” Caryn scolded them, “You’ll wake up Shermie. I don’t wanna have to deal with three crying babies.”

The brothers finished their breakfast sullenly but quietly, and grabbed their backpacks before heading out the door.

“Think we should leave Shermie a note warning him to watch out for time travelers?” Stan asked as he fished out his keys to the STNLYMBL. “Y’know, for when he’s older?”

“Then Dipper and Mabel will be born later than 2000.” Ford reminded him irritably.

“Right.” Stan smacked himself. “Man, this sucks! Why time travel if we can’t make things better?”

Ford’s only reply was a surly sigh as he turned to the cafe next door.

“Hey, where’re you goin’?” Stan asked.

“To get some coffee!”

“Seriously, Sixer? Hot Belgian Waffles is next door, Mrs. DuBios will rat you out to Ma for sure!”

Ford heaved an even more enraged sigh that bordered on a growl, and turned on his heal to get into Stan’s car, slamming the door shut.

“Whoa, easy, we’ll just stop by the donut place on the boardwalk.” Stan reassured him as he started the car. “What’s gotten into you?”

The scientist groaned and pulled his fingers through his curly brown hair. “I don’t know! Normally it’s simple to just focus on my intellect and control my emotions, but it just isn’t working now for some reason!”

“‘Control’ your emotions, or bottle them up?” Stan muttered. Ford shot him a withering glare. “Shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Why do I keep doin’ that?”

“And the only reason I’m so mad in the first place is because I’m so tired!” Ford continued to rant, “I got at least four hours of sleep last night, it doesn’t make any sense!”

“Heh, guess teen Ford isn’t used to old man Ford’s space-sleep schedule. Or lack of sleep schedule, anyway.”

Ford’s face brightened into his ‘a-ha!’ expression. “Stanley, that’s it!”

“What?”

“The reason I’m having such a hard time regulating my emotions, and the reason you can’t keep your mouth shut even more than usual! We may still have our minds from 2013, but our bodies are teenagers in the middle of puberty. Our hormone levels are magnitudes higher than what we’ve become accustomed to.”

“Great. Goin’ through puberty again. Just what everyone wants outta time travel.”

They pulled up to the donut shop on the boardwalk. Stan poked around in his seat and found a quarter, which he handed to Ford. Suddenly, his brother looked unsure.

“Stan, maybe you should hang onto this. You’re going to need all the money you can get, come summer.”

“It’s a freaking quarter, Poindexter.”

“Yeah, but a quarter is worth a lot more in 1969 than it will be in 2013! This is almost a whole gallon of gas!”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ten minutes ago you were about to have a meltdown because you couldn't get your morning coffee, just buy it, Ford!”

“Fine, but I’ll pay for it myself.”

“With what money, genius? You didn’t have a job in high school because you were too busy with your academic science nerd stuff! Now go buy yourself a cup of coffee, or I’ll make you walk the rest of the way to school.”

Ford frowned, but took the quarter. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he got his cup of coffee. How could he or anyone else have ever said that Stan was the lazy one, when Stan was the only one who’d ever had a ‘real’ job? Even to this day, Ford had never had what anyone would call a normal job, barring that one summer he’d been a lifeguard at a waterpark in a dolphin-dominant dimension. He’d always relied on scholarships and grants and accademia, which was hard work, in its own way, but still. It certainly wasn’t what his father would have called a real job. While traveling across dimensions, he’d relied on trading information and knowledge, building and selling inventions, and even, occasionally, stealing.

Stan was the one who’d gotten a minimum wage, part-time job selling popsicles on the beach. Stan was the one who’d entered local semi-pro boxing matches and brought home winnings. Stan was the one who’d saved up for his own car.

“Ar-are you crying!?” Stan exclaimed when Ford climbed back into the car, cup of coffee in hand. Ford reached up to wipe his eyes, surprised as his brother to find tears there.

“Oh geez, Stanford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh, I just--” Stan began to babble.

“N-no, it’s not you.” Ford found his voice wavering as soon as he tried to speak. “It’s just-- gah, I’m so stupid! Stupid hormonal chemical imbalance!”

Ford tried to keep himself from crying anymore by taking a big gulp of coffee. It wasn’t very good, and it was just this side of warm, but it instantly improved his mood.

“Ah, there’s that good dopamine.”

“Better?”

“Much. Let’s go. I think we’re already late.”

Despite the fact that they were ten minutes late, there were still several students milling about when they arrived at the school. The twins felt like they should stick out like a sore thumb, but nobody paid them any mind.

“Ugh, never thought I’d come back here.” Stan grumbled.

“Well, look on the bright side!” Ford reassured him, “Now that you’ve studied quantum physics and run your own business for thirty years, Math and Science classes should be a breeze!”

“Hey, yeah! I can’t wait to see the look on Mr. Grauberger’s face when I can tell him exactly how much interest $300 will accumulate over 20 years!” But he paused. “Wait, what about changin’ the timeline? Pretty sure I never answered questions in class.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t make that much of a difference.” Ford scoffed. “Even if you get 100% on every quiz while we’re here, I don’t think it’d be enough to bring your grade up past a C, and you’ll be dropping out before graduation anyway.”

“Oh yeah….” Stan’s good mood quickly washed away.

Ford rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We know it all works out in the end.”

“Yeah…” Stan agreed, “but there was still a lot of heartache gettin’ there.”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2020 #Stanford PInes #Stanley Pines #My Writing

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rushingheadlong · 4 years

Text

Losing My Way - A Queen Gen Fic

Summary: Brian is burning himself out trying to stay on top of all of his responsibilities. He knows it’s only a matter of time until something gives, and he knows that something will probably be his thesis - but that doesn’t make his failure any easier to stomach.

Wordcount: ~5,500

Tags/Warnings: H/C, angst, anxiety attacks, guilt, discussions of parental pressure and feeling like a failure

Notes: Companion fic to And I Get Afraid. You don’t necessarily need to read that one first, but it may help to have the additional context. Given the events in Brian's life in 1974, this ended up being a fair bit more angsty than "And I Get Afraid" so please heed the tags on this! (Crossposted to AO3 here.)

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s thinking of giving up on his thesis.”

Giving up.

There’s something ugly about those two words, some finality that Brian instinctively tries to shy away from, as if by dancing around the subject he can somehow make it less real. Setting it aside, he says instead, or, Taking a bit of a break, as if he would ever return to his thesis if he chose Queen now.

Brian still loves the stars and his research as much as he did when he first began his studies, but the truth of the matter is that he’s tired. Between the thesis and the band and working an actual job to pay the bills, Brian feels like he’s been running on fumes for months now. There are days when he doesn’t quite feel like a person, let alone anything approaching a functioning one, just a collection of static thoughts trapped in a body that’s running on autopilot, a machine that doesn’t know that it’s time to shut down.

There was stress, in the beginning, when Brian first realized that he was burning out, but it faded as the exhaustion set in and now the only thing Brian has left is his shame and guilt. It was born in his advisor’s office, when he had bluntly told Brian to focus on his thesis or stop wasting both of their time, and it grew every time Brian couldn’t stop one of his responsibilities from slipping through the cracks despite his efforts to stay afloat. Now it sits heavy on Brian’s chest, weighing him down until he feels stuck in place, and turning his thoughts back to that familiar darkness that’s haunted him his entire life.

He’s put so much time into his thesis already that it feels impossible to be standing here, on the verge of admitting that he’s failed, he’s not good enough, he can’t do it - but it feels even more impossible to give up Queen. The band doesn’t come with a guarantee of financial security, or long-term stability, or any of the things that his father tells him that he should aspire to have… but the band comes with the only things that are still keeping Brian going these days.

His friends. Their music. The moments of fleeting joy when he can create things and be a part of something more than himself, better than himself, instead of the waste of time and space that he feels like most days. Instead of the disappointing son that he’s grown into despite his father’s sacrifices and wishes for him.

“One show, that’s all I’m asking for, a single show in the next week or two just to keep our name out there, and then I’m fine waiting until summer!” Roger is saying to Freddie, after John leaves for class and as Brian slowly packs away his Red Lady with fumbling hands that don’t seem to want to cooperate with him. “You don’t even have to handle the booking, I’ll do it myself!”

Confidence in Queen comes easy to Roger, and to Freddie as well, but it does not come easy to Brian. Brian has to work to stay optimistic, has to fight for every scrap of faith that things will work out for them - because he only has faith in them. Not in himself, not anymore.

Maybe that’s the real reason he’s choosing Queen. Not because it’s the right choice to make, but because despite the struggles it’s still far easier to sink what little energy he has left into the band when Queen has three other people fighting to keep her afloat, instead of into his thesis where Brian has to rely on himself alone to carve out every inch of progress that he can. But there’s still a cold voice in the back of Brian’s mind that tells him that he’s taking the easy way out, that he’s being foolish, that he’s almost 26 now and shouldn’t he be setting aside these childish dreams already?

It’s a voice that has sent Brian down into more than one panicked spiral, late at night when he’s too anxious to sleep but too tired to keep working, when his thoughts race with a thousand directions, full of calculations of how much time he’s sunk into his thesis, into the band, into everything he’s already failed at and everything he could still fail at if he’s not careful. And it’s a voice that only gets colder every time Brian gives more consideration to the possibility of giving up on his thesis-

Not giving up.

Setting aside. Taking a break.

Freddie, unphased by Roger’s enthusiasm and unaware of the way that Brian’s heart has started to race uncomfortably in his chest, just snorts in amusement and slings an arm around Roger’s shoulders. “We’ll figure something out, Rog, don’t worry, but apart from John’s upcoming exams, we don’t even know what everyone’s schedules are like yet.”

“By everyone you mean Brian,” Roger says, and he twists around and calls back to Brian, “Hey! What’s your schedule like for the next few weeks?”

Brian’s ears are ringing, loud enough to drown out the sound of Freddie’s laughter and whatever chiding response he gives to Roger, and Brian can feel his face grow hot with embarrassment. “Busy,” he mumbles as he closes the latches on his guitar case, praying that his friends don’t notice the way his hands are shaking.

“Busy? That’s all you can give us?” Roger teases. “We’re trying to plan our rockstar career here, and all you can say is that you’re busy?”

Roger is joking, Brian knows that he is, but they’re words that hit their mark a little too well, sting a little more than they should. Brian said that he’d take the summer to fully commit to either his thesis or with Queen, but in the meantime he’s doing both a disservice. He’s holding the band back and wasting his advisor’s time, and half-assing everything that lands on his plate because he’s stretched too thin and scared of letting go of the things he knows that he can’t do. He keeps thinking that, maybe, if he tries a bit harder, works a bit longer, puts in a few more hours, he can somehow make it all work without having to let anyone down - but that hasn’t worked out for him so far.

“Give him a break, Roger, you know he’s juggling more than the rest of us combined,” Freddie says. “Speaking of which, you really should come out with us tonight, Brian dear. Rog and I are getting drinks, and you deserve a night off more than we do!”

Does he? Brian is fairly certain that he hasn’t done anything to justify slacking off, no matter how nice a night out with his friends sounds right now. He’s drowning in half-finished projects and broken promises, and as he starts to shake his head he can see Freddie’s smile dim in disappointment - and Brian’s stomach sinks, because no matter what he does he always seems to be letting someone down.

“Please, Brimi?” Freddie asks, a little softer. “It’s been ages since you’ve gone out with us.”

Brian’s breath hitches as the force of Freddie’s pleading hits him and he finds himself stammering, “I- I have to drop off my guitar…”

It’s not a no, but it’s not really a yes either - but that doesn’t stop Roger from giving a loud, celebratory whoop and Freddie from beaming at him and saying, “Not a problem, darling, we’ll walk with you back to your place and then hit the pub from there!”

“I… Well I mean...” Brian tries to backpedal as Freddie and Roger start shepherding him out of their practice studio and into the too-bright afternoon sun. He doesn’t want to disappoint them, can’t stomach the thought of ruining their excitement now, but the voice in the back of his mind is reminding him of his thesis and the work he was supposed to get done tonight, and he has to hold himself rigid to stop his entire body from shaking with anxiety.

“You two go ahead, I’m gonna smoke and then I’ll meet you at the pub,” Roger says as he pulls out his cigarettes.

“Whoever gets there first grabs the first round?” Freddie suggests, and Roger shrugs in agreement before ducking around the corner of the building.

“Well then, we’ll just have to take our time getting there, won’t we?” Freddie says, winking at Brian, and he starts walking off down the street. It takes Brian a moment to remember how his legs work and he stumbles over his feet, causing his guitar case to bang against his leg, as he hurries to catches up.

“I don’t know why Roger’s so concerned about booking a show right now,” Freddie says as they walk, and Brian’s stomach sinks as he realizes that he’s going to be trapped in a conversation about the one thing he doesn’t want to keep thinking about. “I mean, once our album is released we’ll be right back in the spotlight! And with John now graduating we can do a proper tour this fall - well, assuming you decide give up your thesis, that is.”

“Set aside,” Brian mumbles, and it takes far too much effort to force out even those two words. His tongue feels like a useless weight and he thinks his throat is closing up, until he swallows and feels that it isn’t.

If Freddie hears Brian’s correction he doesn’t acknowledge it. “And we nearly have enough new material for a second album, which the studio has already promised to let us record once they find a label willing to release our work. That’ll be more than enough to keep us busy for a while, I should think.”

Busy. Freddie says that like it’s a good thing, and Brian can see how it would be but… god, he’s so tired and the thought of giving up (setting aside) his thesis only to have more obligations piled on his plate makes his chest tight with anxiety. He takes a deep breath, just to remind himself that he still can, and realizes with a start that they’ve somehow already arrived at Brian’s flat without him noticing.

Keys. That’s the next step here, but Brian drops them as he pulls them out of his pocket. He stares at them on the ground for a moment and Freddie leans down to pick them up before Brian can get his body cooperating with him again.

“Tired, dear?” Freddie says lightly, teasingly, but the joke falls flat when he opens the door and takes a step inside. “Oh…”

Brian knows what it looks like. Papers and textbooks are scattered everywhere, half-empty cups of tea abandoned across the room, dirty clothes trailing out of his bedroom because his laundry hamper is full but he hasn’t had time to wash anything recently. Something smells vaguely off and Brian doesn’t know if it’s the trash or just the general grime that’s built up around Brian’s life when he was too busy to keep on top of things. The only thing he’s sure about is that it’s not a forgotten plate of food that’s gone bad, because Brian can’t actually remember the last time he ate something at home instead of forcing down something between errands and obligations.

Freddie, carefully, picks his way over to the small table shoved in the corner where Brian spends most of his free hours. It too is covered in papers filled with indecipherable notes, song lyrics that trail off into equations, half-formed paragraphs for his thesis morphing into chord progressions, a chaos of ideas exploding off the page with no rhyme or reason to any of it. Brian knows that, realistically, very little of that is actually usable but he still hesitates to throw any of it away, just in case one of those scraps contains some important answer that he can use as a lifeline to pull himself out of this mess.

Freddie brushes his fingers along the top of the mess of papers, and glances up at Brian. His face is carefully neutral but he can’t hide the worry in his voice as he asks, “Brian, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Brian says, or at least that’s what he wants to say. He gets the first syllable out but the fine gets caught in his throat, and he tries to take a deep breath to try again but all he manages is a hitching gasp and there’s not enough oxygen in his lungs anymore and he can’t breathe, god, he can’t breathe-

His guitar case hits the floor with a low thud that Brian barely hears over the blood pounding in his ears and his own desperate, ragged breaths as he tries desperately to pull enough air into his body. He’s had panic attacks before but never as bad as this - or maybe this one just seems worse because Freddie is there, bearing witness to Brian’s breakdown with wide, worried eyes.

Brian is shaking and spots are dancing in front of his eyes and his heart is racing in his chest and no matter how much he gasps he’s not getting enough air. He’s dizzy and disoriented and he feels like he’s going to die, he’s going to die in his shitty flat in front of one of his best friends because he’s a failure and a disappointment and can’t do anything right, not even something as simple as calming himself down because try as he might he can’t stop this. He can’t stop the waves of panic, he can��t stop gasping and choking on every breath, he can’t bring himself back under control now the dam has been broken.

And then Freddie is there, gently gripping Brian’s arms and leading him over to the couch and Brian collapses into, bringing Freddie down with him because at some point - he doesn’t remember how or when - he grabbed a fistful of Freddie’s shirt and he doesn’t know how to make himself let go now.

Freddie is talking to him in a low, soft voice but Brian can’t make out what he’s saying - or at least, his panic-struck brain doesn’t want to make sense of the words. He can feel Freddie’s chest rising and falling underneath his hand, though, and at first he just focuses on that to keep him grounded when it feels like he’s losing sense of his entire body. It’s only after what feels like a small eternity that he realizes that he’s unconsciously matched his breathing to Freddie’s, and that the tightness in his chest has started to disappear.

It takes longer for the dizziness to fade and the shaking to stop and for Brian’s breathing to even out completely. Freddie stops talking at some point but he doesn’t leave. He keeps rubbing gently along Brian’s arms, grounding him with his presence, until Brian thinks his voice has returned enough to try talking again.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, and there’s more he wants to say, more that he tries to say, but all that keeps coming out is, “Sorry. Sorry-”

“Hush, Brian, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Freddie says firmly. He reaches towards Brian and gently swipes at his cheeks and - oh. Brian must have been crying. He didn’t notice that. “You should drink something. I’ll get you a glass of water,” Freddie says.

Brian nods. “Please,” he manages to say. It takes him a moment to realize that this means he has to let go of Freddie, and another moment to get his hand to cooperate enough that he can release Freddie’s shirt.

Freddie leaves the room, and returns with the promised glass of water what seems like only seconds later - though time seems to be moving strangely for Brian, and he has no idea how long Freddie was actually gone. He takes a small sip of the water, grateful for the way it soothes his throat and grateful for Freddie’s steady presence at his side, even if the cold voice in the back of his mind tells him that he should be ashamed at falling apart in front of his friend.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Freddie asks softly, after what Brian thinks is several minutes- but could be seconds or hours of silence between the friends, for all he knows.

Brian thinks about that for a moment before nodding. He does want to talk about it, but it’s a struggle to find the words - or any words at all, for that matter. All he knows is that he should start at the beginning but where does this mess even start? When Brian first realized he was burning out? With that conversation with his advisor? Or earlier than even that, when Brian stubbornly stuck with Smile - and later Queen - despite his father’s warnings to drop the band?

Does it go back further to his very childhood, to when he was a young child already torn between looking up at the stars and down at the guitar in his hands, already pressured to do more, be more, to make his father proud, but not yet knowing how herculean of a task that would be?

“My thesis,” Brian says at last, and Freddie gives him the space he needs to form the rest of that thought. “I have to gi- set aside my thesis.”

“You said that was a possibility earlier, yes. But…” Freddie cocks his head and studies Brian for a moment as he chooses his next words with care. “Well, darling, isn’t that a good thing? A sign that the band is going places? Isn’t that what we always wanted?”

“No,” Brian says immediately, but that’s wrong and he quickly backtracks, “Yes! I mean, it is, but I have to- have to make it official now. Tell people that I’m stopping. My advisor. My- my parents. My dad…”

Brian’s voice cracks a little on that last word and Freddie’s face softens in understanding. “Oh, Brian…”

Brian doesn’t talk much about his family, but he’s certainly vented to his friends about his father’s expectations for him once or twice before, enough that Freddie knows the implications of what Brian is saying - but now that Brian has found his voice again he finds that he can’t stop talking, can’t stop explaining even though he knows that it’s not necessary. “All he wanted was for me to make something of myself. To have a stable life, to be able to provide for a family, and now I’m- I’m throwing that all away! All his hard work, everything his sacrificed to give me this opportunity, and I’m just going to give it all up!”

“You don’t have to,” Freddie cuts in gently. “You can still finish your thesis, Brian. We’ll wait for you, as long as you need-”

“I can’t,” Brian interrupts, louder, faster, unable to stay calm or rational now that he’s started pouring out everything he’s been holding inside for so long now. “I can’t keep working on the thesis and holding down my job and playing with the band. It’s- it’s too much, and I’ve tried to make it work, god, I’ve tried so, so hard to make it all work but I can’t do it, I can’t-”

Freddie takes the glass of water away from Brian and then grabs his hands, and says, “Brian, darling, please, you need to calm down or you’ll get yourself worked up again. Just take a few breaths for me, can you do that?”

Brian tries, and the first inhale is shallow and a little too fast and he almost panics again. Freddie squeezes his hands and rubs his thumbs along the backs of them, and Brian tries a second breath and that one comes a little easier, and slowly Brian starts to calm down again.

Freddie doesn’t push him to keep talking but Brian wants to, needs to, and after a few moments, when he thinks he’s ready to try again, Brian says, “I’m- I’m tired, Fred. I need to take something off my plate and it can’t be the band, because that’s about the only thing-”

He cuts off before he can say the first words that come to mind: stopping me from killing myself. Because he would never - or at least, he doesn’t think he would ever - and he doesn’t need to add that to the worry that he knows Freddie is already feeling for him. “Queen is one of the few things that makes me happy, these days. It may be stupid, but I can’t give that up.”

“It’s not stupid, darling,” Freddie says without hesitating. “You have to hold tight to the things that bring you joy.”

“That’s not what my dad would say.”

Freddie bites his lip and, for a moment, Brian thinks he isn’t going to say anything at all. But Freddie has never been one to stay silent when his friends are hurting, and after a few seconds he carefully says, “I’ve never met your dad. I only know the things you’ve told us about him. But he helped you build your guitar, didn’t he? That has to count for something.”

“I don’t think it does,” Brian says. It’s the truth that he’s known for a while now, the source of every bickering argument they’ve had the last few times he’s gone home, but now that Brian has admitted it aloud he’s almost surprised by how much it hurts to really accept that.

“I think…” Freddie says slowly, “that even when our parents don’t understand our choices, they just want us to be happy. Maybe your dad thinks you can only find happiness with a proper job and a steady paycheck but that’s not true. And I think you know that that’s not true.”

Brian looks away from Freddie and down at his hands, which Freddie is still holding. “I wouldn’t be thinking of setting aside my thesis if I didn’t know that was true,” he mutters, and Freddie chuckles a little at that.

“Fair enough,” Freddie concedes. “But, Brian, darling… you can’t spend your entire life trying to please other people. At some point you have to start living for yourself, and if staying with Queen is what makes you happy then I think your dad will understand that, in time.”

Brian isn’t sure of that but he’s not particularly keen on having Freddie keep trying to convince him of this point tonight. He knows what inevitable end he’s quickly approaching, and he doesn’t want to spend more time considering what the fall out from setting aside his thesis will be.

“Yeah, I guess,” Brian mumbles instead, and before Freddie can try to force the issue Brian clears his throat and adds, “Well. I suppose we should get going to meet up with Roger, shouldn’t we?”

Freddie sighs, like he knows that Brian is trying to change the subject - though, granted, his attempt was rather blunt and hard to miss. “We don’t have to go out if you’re not feeling up to it, dear.”

Brian would be embarrassed about Freddie offering to cancel their plans like that, if he had enough energy to be anything except tired. He looks up and around at his apartment - at the mess and the grime and the evidence of the breakdown that started far before it peaked this afternoon - and after a moment he admits, “I don’t think I want to stay here right now.”

“Alright,” Freddie says easily. “We’ll go meet up with Roger then. You can spend the night at ours too, if you want.”

“Alright,” Brian echoes. He still feels tired but his chest doesn’t ache, and when Freddie pulls him to his feet he doesn’t feel as dizzy as he was expecting. He takes one last look at the disaster covering every inch of his living space, at the piles of work and obligations that he should be taking care of - and then he walks outside with Freddie, and leaves it all behind.

Fifteen months later...

“...so we’re thinking of making a bit of a medley out of the three songs. It sounds quite lovely so far, but I think you need to give it a listen before we really commit to this plan. I’ll see about bringing a tape in and… Brian?”

“Hm? Sorry, sorry…” Brian shakes his head and brings his attention back to Freddie, who’s sitting in the chair next to Brian’s hospital bed. Roger and John had stopped by in the morning before going into the studio to work out some rhythm section but Freddie was the only one keeping Brian company now, even though he probably has better things to be doing.

Stop that, he tells himself as soon as he thinks that thought. Freddie, Roger, and John have all reassured him time and time again that they aren’t replacing him in the band, and Brian has to believe that - if only because he doesn’t want to know what the stress of worrying about that will do to his invalid body.

“Nothing to apologize for, darling,” Freddie assures him. “Are you tired? I can leave if you want…”

“No! No, please stay,” Brian tells him. “God knows I don’t have any visitors except you three.”

Freddie’s easy smile fades slightly, and Brian already knows what he’s going to say a split-second before Freddie asks, “Have you heard from…?”

“My mum called and we talked for awhile, yeah.”

“And your dad?”

Brian gives a half-hearted shrug and looks down at his hands. His nails are bitten short and his cuticles are in tatters, and he thinks about asking Freddie to bring white nail polish with him next time as he says, “No. But my mum’s probably filled him in and it’s not like either of them have the time to come down, especially now that I’m on the mend.”

They didn’t come down to London during his bout of hepatitis either, but Brian wasn’t allowed visitors in the hospital then and afterwards he dove straight back into recording. And, maybe, they could have come down when he went into surgery for the ulcer but it had all happened so quickly that by the time someone had thought to contact them he was already out of the operating room and arguably through the worst of it.

There’s a lot of maybe’s in Brian’s relationship with his parents these days, but there’s one thing that he knows for sure: His father still has no interest in speaking to him.

And Brian doesn’t have much interest in reaching out to his father either.

“Do you think he’ll come around soon?” Freddie asks softly.

Brian looks up at him again, somewhat surprised by the question. He had expected the singer to lash out about Brian’s father or else launch into some reassurance that this will blow over soon enough, like he had every time this had come up in the past. Instead he seems thoughtful, almost withdrawn, in a way that sets off alarm bells in the back of Brian’s mind.

“No,” Brian says. It’s the truth, but one that he wishes he didn’t have to confess to his friend.

Freddie spent most of the previous summer reassuring Brian over and over again that his father would eventually understand. He helped Brian carve out some free time in his schedule again and helped him through the moments when Brian’s stress and fear still overwhelmed him anyway… but part of Brian always knew that this is where his relationship with his father would end up. It was inevitable, no matter how much he may have hoped otherwise - and no matter what Freddie clearly believed at the time.

Freddie nods like he was expecting that answer. Brian wonders if Freddie is also thinking of those conversations that they had last summer, and all the reassurances he had given Brian that ended up being empty platitudes, and he has his answer when Freddie says, “I feel like I should be apologizing to you, even though I know that’s ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous,” Brian agrees. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Fred.”

“I know that, darling,” Freddie says quickly. “And I’m not really sorry anyway, because I’m glad that you chose to stick with Queen and I’ve meant it every time I’ve told you that we need you in the band - that we want you with us, no matter what happens. Maybe that makes me selfish, I don’t really know.”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand and Brian smiles at the gesture, despite the seriousness of the conversation. “If it’s selfish, it’s a good sort of selfishness I think,” Brian tells him.

“If you say so,” Freddie says, but he doesn’t quite sound convinced.

Brian sighs and tries to sit up a bit more so he can have this conversation properly - but he moves too quickly and puts too much stress on his still-healing surgical scar. He groans and collapses back against his pillows and Freddie immediately jumps to his feet in alarm.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Brian assures him, though his scar still aches with residual pain. “Just moved a bit wrong, that’s all.”

“No, you’re not!” Freddie snaps, and the sudden anger catches Brian by surprise. “You’re in the hospital for the second time this year, for god’s sake! You got sick on tour, you’ve now had surgery because the stress of Queen made everything worse and your family isn’t here with you and-”

Freddie collapses back down on the chair, burying his face in his hands, and his next words come out softer and slightly muffled. “I spent all of last summer reassuring you that things would work out fine once the band got off the ground and they haven’t been fine. Not for you, at least.”

The guilt in Freddie’s voice is a shock to hear and Brian’s instinct is to respond with the first words of comfort that come to mind, no matter what they might be - but after everything Freddie has done for him over the last few months, he deserves better than that. Brian takes a moment to really consider what he needs Freddie to hear, before he finally says, “I always knew I’d end up here, though.”

Freddie looks up at Brian in confusion and disbelief. “You knew you’d end up in the hospital?” he asks skeptically.

Brian laughs and does his best to hide his wince when his scar throbs with pain again. “Well, no, that part was a bit of a surprise,” he admits. “But the doctors said that the ulcer was a ticking time bomb, so that at least was always going to be a problem even if I didn’t know about it before. But nothing that happened with my dad was much of a surprise.”

“Why didn’t you say something, then?” Freddie asks.

“Because I didn’t want to think about it,” Brian says. “If I thought about it too much I’d let it influence my decisions, and you were right when you said that I needed to do what made me the most happy. And Queen makes me happy. You and Roger and John, you all make me happy - more than fighting for recognition in academia ever would have.”

“But your dad-”

“Doesn’t have to live my life,” Brian interrupts. “Freddie, I’m not going to lie to you. I still want his approval, of course I do. But I’m done sacrificing my dreams for him. And if that means that we aren’t speaking for a little while…” Brian shrugs, and swallows down a lump in his throat. “Then that’s how it has to be, I suppose.”

There’s a beat of silence from Freddie before he admits, “I wish, for your sake, that it didn’t have to be like that, though.”

“I mean, I wish that too,” Brian says with a careful huff of laughter. “But it’s not your responsibility to make things perfect for me. Whether my dad comes around or not, well, that’s his choice. And Queen is mine.”

Freddie smiles a little crookedly at Brian, and Brian is relieved to see that the misplaced guilt is gone from his eyes. “You know, you really are amazing, Brian May.”

Brian shakes his head. “I’m really not. I’m just…”

He’s in pain, and he’s afraid that he’ll never get better and he’ll always be sick and in pain. He’s worried for the future of Queen with their tour plans for September cancelled and he feels guilty that he can’t help with the new album like he should. He’s angry at his dad, and scared that he’ll always be angry, and scared that his dad will never accept Brian’s choices no matter what he does. And he’s stressed, about his health and his dad and the band, until it feels almost as overwhelming as it did a year ago and he almost feels that panic starting to building in his chest again.

He’s not amazing. He’s just human, fragile and flawed and moving forward despite it all anyway.

“I’m just trying my best,” Brian says at last.

Freddie’s grin brightens, just a little bit, as he says, “Aren’t we all, darling?”

They all are, that’s certainly true - but it’s a truth that Brian couldn’t see a year ago, when his best didn’t feel like nearly enough, when his anxiety and stress and shame only let him see his perceived failures and not the achievements he managed to gain. It’s a truth that he’s only been able to see with the clarity that comes from rejection and loss, from losing a dad but gaining a family in Queen - and it’s a truth that only strengthens Brian’s convictions that, despite everything, he has made the right choices in his life.

“Yeah,” Brian agrees softly. “I suppose we are.”

#queen fic #queen band fic #brian may fic #brian may fanfic #queen band fanfic #queen fanfic #my fic #(this got posted to AO3 on... Monday I think?)#(but I've been overwhelming yall with fic so I wanted to wait a few days before posting it here)#anyway the next one should be the Maycury AU bc that got the most votes and I've already started writing it #but I make no promises on when it'll actually be finished...

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years

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Universe Portal

Description: Second Part of the Universe series. After people asked for a resolution to Universe Bracelet, a one shot I wrote for @yslbuckyx `s challenge, I thought I’d make a three-parter out of it. This is part two. Find part one on my masterlist below. Pairing: Bucky x Reader

M A S T E R L I S T

*I have a draft for how the portal could work but I still need to fix the suction problem.* *Solved the suction problem, now I have a size problem. Should take me about a week.* *Solved it. Still working on the last bits to correct it.* *Be ready at 3pm on Sunday and don’t lose your mind when you see it.* Shuri’s projection flickered in front of you over your Kimoyo bracelet. “Should bring him his sweater back,” you whispered to yourself and put it out to be ready the next day.

The next day rolled around and you sat on your bed in Bucky’s sweater, waiting for something to happen. It was a few minutes late but silently a portal opened inside of your room and made you jump back. “Holy,” you mumbled at the hole in your room that reminded you of video games. You slowly reached out towards it and your hand went through it. It looked like a mirror and your hand wasn’t visible anymore. With a deep shaky inhale you closed your eyes and stepped through Shuri’s portal into her universe. After a few seconds, you slowly opened one eye to see Shuri with a big grin and clearly happy about the portal working and being stable. With a deep exhale you embraced her in a hug. “You are a genius, Shuri.” you smiled and she giggled. “Nah, just a bit of math and a few weeks of work,” she said smiling proudly. “Girl, if I could be only half as good at math and physics as you are.” your brows went up. “Hey Y/N.” a deep and familiar voice came from beside you and you turned around to see Bucky standing there with his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Buckyyy!” you ran over and hugged him as tight as possible. “Is that my sweater?” he smiled and looked up and down on you, making you blush a little. “Yeah. It’s the most comfortable thing I own, to be honest,” you answered scratching your arm nervously. The short silence was interrupted by Shuri, ”Show her Wakanda a bit while I get my brother.”

You were on the streets filled with energy in the city center shortly after. “Were you here a lot when you weren’t...frozen,” you asked a bit distanced from him. “Sometimes. Most of the time it was a bit too much for my mind.” he smiled down at you before asking a question back. “What did you do in the last weeks?” “I just...wrote a lot and tried to take better care of myself. I tend to forget that I’m also a human being, you know?” you chuckled lightly. “I spent time here, watching Shuri work. And I was in South Africa with Steve for a break from the team,” he answered the question too. “Isn’t he the person you’d want a break from?” you asked with a grin and got laughter back. “You’re right. I enjoy having someone out of time with me tho. He got more mellow.” Kids were running around you and one smiled at him and said something in Xhosa and the words “White Wolf” which earned the kid a smile from Bucky. “What did he say?” you looked up at him. “Nothing.” he had a big grin on his face and put his arm around your waist. Whatever you wanted to say before was gone now. This was an unexpected move. You continued walking down the busy street and past tons of vendors that decorated their products colorfully. “Who is the pretty girl with you, White Wolf?” a middle-aged woman asked from a hair store that was decked out in hair products and scrunchies. “Y/N,” you got out a little shy but with a small smile on your face. She must’ve known him from the time he was here and it kinda made sense for someone with hair like his to be here sometimes but you were still in another universe and didn’t want to interact with too many people to not ruin the timeline if there was one. After a while, you had walked so far that you had left the city limits of the city center. Now, most of what was surrounding you was ackers and meadows. It was breathtakingly beautiful with multiple different flowers in full bloom. After a while, the street ended and you were standing in front of a big tree that was giving you a bit of shadow. “I suppose it’s a bit weird to ask you this since you’re not even from the same universe,” his voice broke through the silence and he positioned himself in front of you, “But would you like to go on a date with me, maybe?” He let a guard down and was nervous, which was quite an adorable sight for a scary big man like him. “I’d love to, Bucky.” you automatically answered calmly before you could even actively decide what to say and a smile formed on both your faces. The perfect moment was interrupted by your Kimoyo beads and a message from Shuri to come back and meet her brother, the King of Wakanda.

There he was, right in front of you. T’Challa, the King of Wakanda, the Black Panther. “Hello, Y/N. I’ve heard great things about you.” he shook your hand with his typical smile. “I can only give that back.” you blushed a little, not only had they talked about you but he also was really charming. Your brain interrupted you with the first world problem question if you are allowed to call him T’Challa or just ‘your highness’ “You know a lot about this universe?” he asked with attentive eyes on you. “Well, about the heroes in it I guess. It’s depicted in movies in my universe and doesn’t go too deep, but yeah...I blew his mind when I started talking about Wakanda.” you pointed at Bucky with a big grin. “Hey, it’s not every day that a girl from another universe knows my full story and how Wakanda works.” he held his hands up and really reminded you of Sebastian Stan at that moment. Laughter went through the room at how weirded out he still was by your knowledge. “My universe doesn’t have vibranium, at least not as far as I know. And no heroes. But also nobody that just turned half the universe to dust, so I guess I’m okay with no heroes.” you went on and a serious nod came back “No, Wakanda, huh? Would love to check.” T’Challa chuckled. “I think all hell would break loose if it was real in my world. I mean, you’re fictional where I live.” “With my sisters' new technology we might at least be able to study your world.” he smiled and looked over to Shuri. “You’re gonna find a lot of dumbasses. Shitty politics and people burning down the rainforest cause money seems to be more important than life.” you shrugged and got concerned faces back. “What? You can’t tell me that there is no equivalent to that here?” you held up your hands. “It’s just incredibly sad that this is a problem in other universes.” T’Challa went on. “Yeah, it’s not really helping my anxiety either.” you joked. “Guess some things are just human errors,” Shuri concluded before explaining the portal to his brother, you and Bucky.

“So...technically I could visit her?” Bucky pointed at you. A knowing smile spread across all faces in the room and you turned to him with a, “Yes, that’s basically the bottom line of what she just explained. But you wouldn’t be allowed to stay. I’d kick your ass if you would. Sam needs someone to annoy him to death.” you giggled. “You would kick my ass?” his eyebrows went up. “Well, verbally. I don’t think there is any way I could overpower you unless I get Nat.” “I’d pay to see you two have a strategic fight.” Shuri giggled. “Yeah, there is no strategy with me. I know how to kick basic men away, not a supersoldier with a metal arm.” “So...could T’Challa and I visit you, like right now if you let us?” he finally finished his thought from earlier. “Technically. If you plan to not come across fans of your in my universe FICTIONAL characters and possibly ruin a bit of a timeline, sure.” you shrugged. The three of you looked towards Shuri and got a nod towards the portal. “I didn’t clean tho. And don’t open drawers.” you giggled before going through the portal again. “I love the future man.” came from behind you from an awestruck voice. Your room had a little bit of chaos from the previous evening scattered across it. Socks, an empty cookie package, charging cables, a little pile of laundry and your bed was only half made. “Cute.” “I wouldn’t call it cute...but that’s subjective.” you chuckled before taking your pile of laundry and bringing it to the bathroom. “Show us our fictional versions.” T’Challa grinned like a child which would irritate you if you wouldn’t know the movies. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna change what’s happening in your universe.” your weight shifted from one side to another. “Pretty please!” Bucky joined in. Your glance shifted between the two grown men in the middle of your apartment. You felt like a mother with two children begging for more chocolate. “Fine.” a little success high five was interchanged between the two men. “So your universe is the MCU universe, there are comics that depict other universe versions and the MCU took inspirations out of those for the movies…” you started while walking to get your laptop. Knowledge hungry eyes stared at you for the rest of the day while you were explaining your and their world to them. Including the jealous look of Bucky when you started talking about the actor depicting him, looking exactly like him, just with a normal arm and different personality traits. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know me. Probably never will.” you giggled before you went on about the actors. In the evening they left again and after T’Challa had left through the portal Bucky turned around one last time. “You’re really special, you know that?” one of his rare soft smiles was on his face. “You talking about yourself, Barnes?” you grinned taking both his hands, not without a tiny flinch from him. “Any requests for the date?” one of the hands went to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “I dislike restaurants. Maybe something more relaxed. As long as you’re there I don’t really care that much.” you said blushing and got a nod back. “Noted. See you soon, darling.” he left a kiss on your forehead before vanishing through the portal. You watched the portal vanish too and stared at the white wall behind it for another minute before getting ready for bed.

M A S T E R L I S T TAGS:

@elsatxx @yslbuckyx @marmariavel @yknott81

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spyxdman-blog · 5 years

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*Buzz* *Buzz* I looked down to check my phone. “Dang it... oh hey Pete!” I said answering in the most laid back staying at home voice I can do. “what? no I’m not going after rhino, why would I do that when you told me specifically to stay home and study.” Rhino was on the move and I had to stay on him, what did he expect me to do just sit at home and do nothing? No, The sinister six escaped from Rykers and I’m not a kid anymore, I can help Peter take these guys down. “No, really I’m learning all kinds of things about physics and stuff...” I webbed myself to the roof of the warehouse for a better view. “No that wasn't a web shooter, I dropped my water...” wait... ok so there’s rhino but who is that he’s talking to? I need a better view than this. “ Hey Pete, I gotta go, I got to this really interesting section about Isaac Newtons 3 Laws of physics.” I hung up and zipped through a vent to get a little closer. I reached another vent exit and saw rhino and some big ugly green guy, definitely not one of my big bad’s but still... he does look pretty big and bad. well if he’s with Rhino none of this can be good. “Hmm. can’t hear from here but its a good thing I borrowed one of Pete’s Spider Bots. come here buddy let me know what’s going on.” I dropped the bot through the vent where it landed and crawled to a crate about 5 feet from our mystery guy.

“The others should be meeting us in times square tomorrow. once we finish up loading these crates then we wait for the signal.” Rhino said, moving the crate into the back of a semi truck.

“Grundy knows plan, Grundy heard plan, Grundy not stupid.” Ok cool so mystery guy’s name is Grundy, but I’ve still never heard that name and with a face like that I’m sure I would've heard that name by now. I have to check out what’s in those crates, maybe they’re just fireworks...

I pryed the vent open and crawled out trying to get as close to that truck as possible. I got to the truck and while they were turning away from me I crawled in and opened a crate. “yikes, those are definitely not fireworks... Project Devils Breathe, huh wonder what these are.”

“Hey It’s the tiny spider, Grundy help me squash this bug.”

“Hey Rhino long time no see mind if I just pass by you here” I said as I sling shot myself past them. I turned and shot a blast at rhinos eyes, but Grundy grabbed a table and flung it towards me. I flipped over in a somersault and looked at them. “Hey man names Spiderman but you can just call me Spiderman, who are you.”

“Grundy kill Spiderman” He raged forward like a freight train.

“nice talk” I shot under his legs but was snatched up by rhino. “Oh hey you, I forgot you were here, hey mind not bruising my face I have a date later.” He went to slam his fist into me but I webbed a box and smashed it into his back causing him to drop me, and Grundy to pick me up and throw me into the wall. “ow... hey how bout we take this outside” I grabbed a vial of the devils breathe and webbed myself out the door and as I thought rhino came barreling through the wall. “Hey, Hey I don't think insurance is gonna cover that” I dodged out of the way and webbed his feet to a pole and turned to confront Grundy.

He had a large pole in his hands and swung around in a frenzy. “Nope!” I ducked under and went invisible, I had to get to a higher ground, I can’t fight these 2 giants on their turf. I shot a few webs at the weapon in his hand causing it to stick to the ground and I zipped to the wall and bounced right back and slammed my foot right into his face and making him stumble into rhino. “Okay guys I can’t stay too much longer I had fun but we have to wrap this up.” I slung myself up the building and kept running till I was about 6 stories high and then dove. I focused all the energy I had, I had to stop this fight here and now. Peter was right, maybe I wasn't ready for these things but Peter isn't here and I can’t focus on that. I have to make him proud. I venom blasted right into the both of them knocking them unconscious and sending me flying over the building with the shockwave, I tried to catch myself but everything went black... everything except that yellow and red blur...

#wallywest #spiderman #milesmorales #spy-dman alternatedimension #spiderandwallyvssinistersix

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thorbruce-is-lit · 5 years

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i did it

I finally finished it!! It’s here!!!! All done!! I’ve finished the fic i was writing based off an older post; So As always, if you see any mistakes, or if you wanna ask anything, message me, or send an ask, or just comment. <3 <3

Millennia Together “…Huh.” It had been days of experiments leading to more loosely connected experiments, and Bruce had reached the end. Sure, there was probably so much more he could find in this rabbit hole of potential research, but he was done. He pushed himself back from his desk and leant back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “Huh.” he repeated to the ceiling. It wasn’t really prompted by anything, his decision to study his own DNA. Out of the blue, it had struck him as an interesting idea. To check out how it had mutated, see if there were any perks to being tied to the Hulk. One thing had led to another, interesting discoveries of weird genes had led to experiments, had led to more questions, and so on. But for now, he was done. “Immortal, huh?” This was gonna take a while to process.

Thor woke up to find the bed empty. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Bruce regularly got up in the early hours of the morning to work on one of his many projects with Tony. The pair would work themselves to death if they could work without interruption. He knew that the work Bruce was doing was important for potentially millions of people, but it still saddened him to wake up alone. He quickly forgot his sorrow though, dragging himself out of bed as he remembered Bruce was starting a new project that he promised to explain. He quickly made himself presentable enough to leave the compound, and left their room to go find Bruce. Thor walked into the lab with a grin and a “Good morning Stark!” “He’s not here, surprisingly.” Tony replied, looking up from his work. “Oh, and ‘morning to you too.” Thor gave a nod of acknowledgement and made to leave, when Tony said, “So you and Bruce huh?” He immediately saw Thor’s muscles tense and he could’ve sworn the air pressure in the room increased. “What about it?” Thor bit out defensively. He had been told by Bruce about the lack of acceptance on Earth, but he hadn’t expected it from Stark. Tony put his hands up in defence, “Woah there, Pointbreak nothing bad! I’m not one for hate. I’m just wondering if this is something you do… often.” he finished lamely. “If you are implying that I am not devoted to Bruce then—” “Hold on, not what I’m saying.” Tony cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t mean to breach the subject like this, if at all. “It’s just… you don’t strike me as the type to deal with loss all too well. No offence.” Thor looked at him with a perplexed expression. He was completely lost. “Go on.” he prompted. Tony sighed. “Well, Bruce is human right? And, like other beings, humans have lifespans. You get my drift?” Tony was already regretting this conversation immensely, and seeing Thor’s expression upon realising he would outlive Bruce made him visibly flinch. “Thor?” No response. That was worrying. Tony thought about approaching him, but decided against it when acknowledging the chance of getting electrocuted. However after a few minutes of standing in silence, Tony couldn’t handle it anymore.“Listen, forget I said anything. Go find Bruce, give him a big ol’ hug and forget I ever spoke to you.” Thor, seemingly unhearing, stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before turning and leaving without a word, the look of immense grief still carved into his face. As soon as the door closed, Tony headbutted his desk, audibly moaning “I’m such a dumbass,” over and over.

Thor wanted to collapse into bed, to curl up into a ball and cry. He didn’t know how he could be so blind. Well, he did. Wilful ignorance, his mind’s desire to ignore the things he didn’t like. But not this time. He didn’t curl up and ignore his problems. That wasn’t enough this time. Instead, he walked over to his laptop that Stark had supplied him with. He was still getting used to how it worked, but he understood enough for what he needed. He pulled up a search engine and began to type. Sometime around 2am Bruce stumbled into the room and fell directly into bed, groaning. “Remind me to never accept a party invitation from Natasha ever again.” In his sleep deprived state, he didn’t register Thor’s delayed hum of acknowledgement. It was long after Bruce had gone to sleep before Thor wearily closed the lid of his laptop on pages and pages of research on prolonging the human lifespan.

Bruce woke up to the gentle sound of rain on the window. Closing his eyes, he listened closely to the ambient sounds of the room. He hated his inability to stay asleep sometimes, but the calm sound of Thor’s breathing could usually lull him back to sleep. Tonight however, Thor’s usually deep calming breaths were absent for the room, and instead Bruce could hear slightly laboured… whimpering? “Thor? Babe, are you awake?” Bruce whispered. The noise stopped immediately, but there was no answer. “Thor?” He tried again, but all he got in response was a loud snore, then a shuffling of movement, and finally the deep breathing he’d grown used to over the past months. He drifted off as the rain continued to fall.

“Welcome back Thor.” “Good to see you again, my friend.” Thor met Heimdall in a quick embrace. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I am in a hurry at the moment.” “Then I shall not keep you.” Heimdall replied with a knowing nod, gesturing for Thor to take his leave. Thanking him, Thor took off for the heart of the city.

Thor found himself still in the library the next day, surrounded by a myriad of texts varying from scientific papers, to ancient history, to mythology. So far, he’d found nothing. Absolutely nothing of value. He was frustrated and tired, and all he wanted was to be in bed at home with Bruce, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t face Bruce with the knowledge that he’d failed to find a solution. He sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes wearily, in an attempt to clear them of exhaustion. It didn’t work. With a groan he pulled himself from his seat and walked back over to the scientific research papers. He’d already looked through them countless times, and had picked out all the relevant ones. Still, despite the knowledge that there was nothing left, that he had scoured all possible sources for prolonging the life of Midguardians, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. “Thor.” Thor whipped his head around. He hadn’t thought anyone had seen him arrive. He relaxed at the sight of his friend. “Ah, Heimdall. You startled me, I thought Odin had noticed I’d returned.” “No, no one is aware of your presence but me. But you must leave soon, if you wish for it to remain that way.” Thor let out a frustrated sigh. “But I haven’t found what I’m looking for. I need more time.” “You aren’t going to find what you’re after here, Thor. I must advise you leave soon. Banner is beginning to worry.” That got Thor’s attention. “But… I can’t face him. I can’t do it.” “You must.” Thor looked at him with pleading eyes, as if Heimdall could make everything better. Heimdall responded with a sympathetic look, before turning to leave. “Come.” Thor followed.

He wanted to have not looked hard enough. He wanted the library to be missing research. He wanted to be lucky. But he knew in his heart that what he was looking for wasn’t there, and that he was doomed to be alone, remembering Bruce’s death for the millennia to come. But… He could still make some new memories, he realised. He could take Bruce to all the best planets, go on holidays and make the most of their time together. As he thought this, he felt some of the heaviness on his heart lift. That’s what he would do.

It had been a few weeks since the party, and Bruce was starting to notice something was off. Thor looked tired. He was sleep deprived, that much was obvious. Bruce wasn’t stupid. He knew that Thor wasn’t sleeping. He had woken up in the middle of the night more than once to find Thor’s side of the bed cold and empty. But Thor looked tired. He wished Thor would tell him where he was going, what was happening that required him to work himself into such a state, but breaching the subject was turning out to be difficult. It was starting to worry him, but every time he attempted to breach the subject Thor stopped immediately changed the topic. He wasn’t sure how much longer the conversation could be ignored though, because he knew there had to be a limit to Thor’s energy. Despite looking almost dead on his feet however, Thor still refused to talk to Bruce about it. Today was different though. Bruce’s concerned looks and questions of what was wrong were met with knowing smiles, rather than heavy silence or rushed counters. As the sun set, Thor approached Bruce in the lab, walking up to him and softly whispering “Come, I have something to show you.” The amount of feeling conveyed Thor’s tone made Bruce shiver, and he allowed himself to be led away from his work. He wasn’t willing to shut Thor out after the past few weeks, not even for his research. Thor led Bruce by the hand, occasionally looking back and smiling, and Bruce felt his heart lighten. This was different. This felt good. They stopped a short distance from the compound, and it was only then when Bruce noticed Thor was carrying Stormbreaker. “Where are we going?” Bruce asked. Thor looked into his eyes with a warm smile. “You’ll see.”

Bruce was at a loss for words. Tree branches resembling elegant, cold fingers twisted through the fog far below, giving the illusion of trapped souls in the mist. Bioluminescent moss coated the floor far below in a pale blue light. It was haunting. Far beyond the edge of the cliff, the sunset dominated the horizon, with a vast and intricate spread of deep purples to neon greens. The clouds swirled in enormous spiralled structures, with light passing through them at just the right angles to create an apparent glow. The sky at the distant horizon met with the vast, almost endless chasm in an impossibly flawless way, the fog rising to meet the air and glowing with all the colours of the sky. Bruce lent over the barrier preventing him from falling into the vast chasm, trying to see further through the fog in the weak light below. Thor stood by his side smiling to himself, no doubt enjoying the childish enthusiasm Bruce was radiating. “It’s… amazing.” he breathed. Thor chuckled. “You’ve said that.” “But… Look! It’s so beautiful!” Bruce exclaimed, struggling to put his feelings into words. “You’re beautiful.” Bruce looked away from the breathtaking view to see Thor smiling at him again, and felt all the stress of the past few weeks fade from his mind. He didn’t notice the sadness behind Thor’s eyes.

Bruce’s suspicions were rising again. In the past month, Thor had taken him on seven different impromptu trips. He wasn’t complaining, no. Each destination was more breathtaking than the last, and Bruce couldn’t get enough of it. That’s where the big problem was. He knew that his and Thor’s relationship wasn’t what it used to be. Ever since the night of the party, something had been off, but Bruce had thought it was getting better. Wilful ignorance. All these day trips to different planets were part of the problem, but Bruce’s scientifically driven mind had ignored the concern constantly eating at the back of his mind in favour of marvelling at the natural wonders of other worlds. Now however, Bruce was taking a stand. Among the unplanned trips, Thor was still disappearing most nights. Bruce was ashamed at his own selfish actions and knew the only way to fix everything was to just talk. But to do that, he needed Thor to cooperate. The issue here, was that every time he tried to bring it up Thor was still deflecting, either pretending nothing had changed or convincing him to go on another trip. He needed to find the right time to ask, where Thor couldn’t escape. But… he worried. He worried if Thor was withdrawing from him due to a lack of interest, or if something was happening that required Thor to leave. He didn’t want to ruin any time that could be their last. So he kept quiet, worrying silently and hoping beyond all hope that Thor was okay. That they were okay.

“Thor!!” He heard a panicked shout before he plunged into the deep spring. The warm water was relaxing, and he waited a few moments before pushing himself to the surface. He looked up at Bruce’s concerned face, peering down at him from the top of the sheer rock face, and beamed. “Come on, the water’s nice!” He pushed himself back through the water, spreading his arms out in invitation. “I don’t care Thor! There’s signage here for a reason, and I’m pretty sure it says ‘No Trespassing’.” “I don’t suppose I could convince you it says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’?” Bruce sent him a stern look in reply and Thor sighed, swimming to the edge of the spring and pulling himself out. “I know they’re pretty babe, but you can’t just throw yourself in there. I don’t want you to get arrested on an alien planet.” Bruce said as Thor climbed back to where Bruce was waiting. “We won’t get arrested! I’ll just use the Bifrost and we’ll be gone before they know what happened” Bruce shot him another stern look as Thor gathered his shirt off the floor. “We can appreciate them from up here. Look, you can see all the flora around the springs, and how it grows in patterns! That’s exciting!” Bruce exclaimed, gesturing at the view. “But would you not like to see how they work from down there? You can even collect samples!” Thor pushed. Bruce sighed again. “Of course I would, but—Thor!” He let out a small scream as Thor bodily picked him up and jumped off the edge, into the water below. Thor didn’t let go until they were at the surface, and as soon as he did Bruce pushed away and splashed at him. “Thor! We can’t be down here!” He punctuated each word with a splash. Thor grinned, and responded with an even bigger splash. “But we are down here Bruce. If we can’t be down here, how do you explain this?” Bruce couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “Well, I suppose you have a point,” he conceded, “and no one else knows we’re here. So I suppose even if we shouldn’t be here, how would we know. No one’s told us we shouldn’t be here. For all I know that sign up there says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’.” Thor grinned even wider at that, and swum over to Bruce. “Well, what should we do now that we’re both down here?” he smirked, snaking his arms around Bruce’s middle. “I think you mentioned something about taking samples of the flora here.” Bruce smirked back, slipping out of Thor’s arms and taking off towards the bank. Before he had made it halfway, he felt a surge of water from behind him and turned just in time to be hit in the face with a massive wave. As Bruce spluttered, Thor laughed to himself, easily keeping himself above Bruce’s retaliatory splashes. “Bruce darling, you’re going to need to accept the fact that you will never beat me at this game. I’m too strong.” Bruce just grinned at that, and lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I give up.” He sighed dramatically. Thor beamed at that, missing the smirk Bruce sent his way. In the blink of an eye, a massive wave hit Thor directly in the face, knocking him back across the spring. “HA. We win.” Thor turned at the sound of Hulk’s voice, and shot him a dazzling smile. “Well I don’t think I can compete with that. At least, not safely.” They spent the next hour swimming together, breaking out into more than a few splash fights, until the sun began to dip below the horizon. “Thor off.” They had been lounging in silence for a while on the edge of the spring when Hulk spoke, out of the blue. “Hmm? What do you mean by that?” Thor said, blinking. He’d almost fallen asleep laying on Hulk’s arm, watching the colours of the sky change. “Thor off!” Hulk insisted, jostling Thor into full awareness as he sat up. “Oh, right. Sorry, I almost fell asleep.” “No! Banner says Thor is off. Different.” “Ah.” Thor swallowed guiltily. He should’ve known Bruce would’ve noticed his behaviour recently. “I guess.” “Why?” Hulk prompted after Thor made no motion to continue. “It’s difficult to explain.” Thor started. He didn’t know whether he should lie or not. He didn’t want to have to tell Bruce his troubles, the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about the future. “I’ll tell you some other time. I promise.” He sighed inwardly at his own cowardice. He was delaying the inevitable, and his behaviour was obviously worrying Bruce. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. Hulk grunted in agreement, but didn’t look too happy. “How about you let Banner come back for a while? He wanted to collect samples from here, and we’ll have to leave soon.” Thor stood up and stood in front of Hulk’s slouched form, kissing his forehead. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.” Hulk looked up and nodded, before beginning to shrink back down. Thor knew it was selfish to ask for Bruce back, but he knew that Hulk wouldn’t let it go, that he would keep prying to protect Bruce from harm. He knew he had to tell Bruce, but he wanted a few more experiences with him before Bruce caught on to why they were travelling. Before he knew it, Bruce was looking up at him with a concerned expression. “Thor, snap out of it.” Bruce waved in front of his face and he realised he’d been lost in his head. He mentally shook himself, clearing his head and smiling back at Bruce. “Welcome back.” “Did we win?”

He had officially reached his breaking point. Even Hulk, in the back of Bruce’s mind, was constantly worrying about Thor, and he had just walked in on his boyfriend passed out on the kitchen bench. In his breakfast. Pulling him up, Bruce got one of Thor’s arms over his shoulder and half dragged him to the nearest couch, placing him down gently and standing back. Thor looked peaceful, and Bruce’s heart broke slightly, knowing how rare peace had come to him lately. He pulled up a chair in front of the couch and picked up the coffee table book Steve had bought for the main lounge. ‘Wonders of the World’. Bruce chuckled at that, flicking through to find places similar to the locations he and Thor had visited. After almost an hour, Thor began to wake up. Bruce sensed him stirring and immediately put down the book. “Thor? Are you alright?” Bruce didn’t miss the slight panic that crossed Thor’s face as he gained awareness, before it was quickly masked by a seemingly empty smile. “Of course. I must have just fallen asleep on the couch, it’s fine.” he yawned, and Bruce frowned. “Thor, you fell asleep on a stack of pancakes. I carried you here.” Thor looked a bit surprised at that. Bruce narrowed his eyes as Thor pushed himself into a seated position. He could sense Thor was avoiding the question on purpose, but he couldn’t predict what Thor’s reaction would be if he kept pressing. Then Thor stood up. “Well, if it’s as late as it looks, I need to—” “No.” Thor looked surprised at being cut off, Bruce noticed as he stood up himself. He was just as surprised himself, to be honest. He hadn’t meant to cut Thor off, but now that he had the attention he needed, he may as well continue. “What’s going on Thor? These trips, your behaviour recently, you need to tell me.” He said it sternly, making sure to hide his insecurity. He didn’t want Thor to sense his worry and flip the scene on him. Thor’s face went through a multitude of emotions before settling on grief, and he fell back into the couch, bringing his hands to his face. Bruce’s frustration was forgotten, quickly being replaced by concern. “I can’t… I can’t fix it.” Thor choked out, looking up at Bruce with eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t find anything… I don’t want to lose you.” “What? Why are you losing me? I’m not planning on going anywhere sweetie.” Bruce questioned, crouching down and placing a comforting hand on Thor’s knee. Thor’s tears began falling, and he lifted his hands back to his face in a futile attempt to hide them. Bruce’s concern skyrocketed at that. “Babe, what’s going on? You know I would never leave you, right?” Thor took a moment to collect himself before responding, taking time to calm down while Bruce watched patiently. “Not now, not even soon. But it is inevitable. Death takes all humans at such an early age, and I will be left alone for millennia.” “Oh.” Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He had long ago come to an acceptance that he’d outlive all his friends, potentially spending millennia alone. But in all of his wildest fantasies of what could’ve been wrong, he would never have imagined this. Bruce had been thinking that if he was lucky Thor would have stuck around for a few years before he got bored and left Bruce to be alone again. It was nothing to do with Thor’s personality of course. Bruce just wasn’t that interesting. And after all, if you live for millennia, what the point of remaining with someone like him for that long. But Thor somehow wanted to spend his life with him.He knew it was an illogical response, but Bruce couldn’t stop himself from giggling at his realisation. As soon as he sees the extreme hurt and confusion in Thor’s eyes however, he instantly felt guilty. “Nono, sweetie, I’m not laughing cause you’re sad, it’s just…” He couldn’t help the next wave of giggles, before managing; “I’m pretty much immortal.” At Thor’s dumbstruck look, he continued gleefully “After the other guy, my aging process has pretty much stopped. All this grey hair’s from stress.” After a shocked moment of silence, Thor started giggling too. He slid off the couch and knelt into an embrace, laughing in relief. They laughed until they were breathless, and Thor pulled back, hands on Bruce’s shoulders with a genuine smile. “This is the best news I have ever received!” And then as an afterthought, Thor added “I’ve so many trips still planned for us.” That set Bruce off again, and they both devolved into another fit of laughter. Tony walked in on the scene half an hour later and breathed a silent sigh of relief at the two, who were lying in a heap, still giggling with tears in their eyes. He was hoping the two would sort out the mess he caused. The guilt was eating at him. He backed out of the room and left the two in peace.

Bruce couldn’t believe that Thor wanted to spend his life with him. It was almost surreal, thinking about spending the rest of his life with Thor. His boyfriend lay beside him completely wiped out, finally being able to rest after the stress of the past weeks. As he lay with his back pressed against Thor, he traced the ring he held in his palm. The realisations of the day still raced through his head, erasing all doubts he had held about proposing. He smiled to himself and closed his fist. Tomorrow, he’d do it. He fell asleep within minutes, the smile never leaving his face.

#thorbruce #brucethor #thunderscience #gammahammer #thundersmash #fic #my writing #i finally did it guys #are you proud of me?#its 2am and i cant see properly #but i did it

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1000-directions · 5 years

Text

annual writing self-evaluation

All answers should be about works published in 2018.

tagged by: N O B O D Y, i’m the one getting the party started this year 😎i’m going to tag every writer i follow, so please feel free to fill this out for yourself without feeling obligated to read my answers if you’re not into it!

i. Optional if applicable: link to last year’s self evaluation:

2017!

1. List of works published this year (in the order that they were posted):

tonight make me unstoppable

turn to dust or to gold

spring cleaning

since we’re alone

this modern love

i still remember

the gentlest feeling

think i’m gonna win this time

nothing but dreams inside

sending postcards to myself

dust to dust

lullaby for the new world order

gold dust in our hands

#ship 1d with superheroes 2k18

cloud on my tongue

sing it one last time

(unpublished winterhawk fic that will be arriving next weekend)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

hmmmm. i mean, if you count the luckyverse as a whole as one work, then obviously that. i’ve put a lot of time and thought into developing this relationship and finding ways to progress it over the course of several years and trying to justify why we are examining their relationship at the specific times that the stories take place. it’s the hardest i’ve worked on anything, it’s the most time i’ve spent on one idea, it’s the longest thing i’ve ever created, it’s the most i’ve ever enjoyed writing, and it’s gotten the most satisfying response. it’s not the most popular thing i’ve ever done, and i know there will be fewer and fewer people showing up for each successive part, but the people who support this have been just...the most generous and wonderful, and creating this thing has been such a rewarding experience for me.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

nope, this year i’m pretty proud of everything 🙃

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

from this modern love:

“Buck,” Louis says, and he’s looking at Bucky so openly, gazing at him so adoringly, and his fingertips are so gentle against Bucky’s face. He isn’t holding anything back, and it’s one of those moments where Bucky almost steps out of his own head and sees himself from a distance, and he has to tell himself, this is your life, you get to have this now.

“It was a nice day,” Bucky says instead. “I’m really glad I got to be a part of it.”

“You’re going to be a part of everything from now on,” Louis says, tracing the arch of Bucky’s eyebrow with his thumb. “Shit, I can’t stop touching you.”

“Don’t stop touching me,” Bucky says. His hands are on Louis’ hips, anchoring him in place, and they feel hot where they meet Louis’ clothing. His right palm is sweating, and his left is crackling with the anticipation.

There are two categories of energy. There’s kinetic energy, the energy of motion. The energy of Bucky reaching through space and time against all the odds to meet this man, to run after him down the street, to touch his body and kiss his sacred mouth.

And the other category is potential energy, the energy that is stored up and kept secure for the future when you’re ready for it. The energy of possibility, the energy that hasn’t done anything yet but promises you maybe, maybe, maybe.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

i got a lot of comments along the lines of ‘i didn’t expect this to work, but it did,’ which always brings me joy. i reread @queerlyalex‘s comment on nothing but dreams inside whenever i’m feeling :/ about myself and my writing. all seven comments on cloud on my tongue are so precious to me because i loved writing that one so, so much, it was my love letter to lucky and how far they’ve come. i really just treasure the people who are still hanging in there and reading about my precious weirdos and really picking up on all the things i was trying to do with that story.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

any time i have to write a scene with more than two characters is a struggle. the absolute worst ones this year were freddie’s birthday party and bucky and louis’ dinner party. just the worst. more than two characters is too many to keep track of.

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

genuinely everything. at the end of last year, i was planning to write one (1) lucky fic for rarepair fest, and i was planning to write trans spiderlou, and that was it. and instead, this turned in the year of lucky, the #ship 1d with superheroes 2k18 that i was not expecting.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

last year, i was very focused on being a more minimalist writer, on ignoring plot and just writing the parts that i found interesting, just quick projects in one sitting for as long as they held my interest. this year, i spent more time stretching out inside a scene, just settling in and letting it take as long as it needed to take. i learned how to sustain my own interest in an idea for longer than a few hours. it used to be that if i didn’t finish something in one sitting, i didn’t finish it at all. meanwhile, i can’t even tell you how many sittings i’ve spent on lucky over the last year, and i’m still excited about it and invested in it. i wouldn’t say that i appreciate the concept of plot much more than i used to -- i’m still much more focused on small moments of character interaction. but i’ve learned to embrace the concept of outlining in order to make sure i cover everything i want to cover, and i’m not so afraid of the passage of time anymore.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

this is my answer from last year:

i would like to try some new pairings. this is weird, but i’ve never really written a true nouis story? it feels like i should have, but i haven’t, and that’s something i wouldn’t mind tackling next year. also, when i first started out, i didn’t feel comfortable leaving canon behind because i worried that i didn’t have a strong enough grip on my characters yet, and i feared that if i started writing AUs or whatever, my characters would become unrecognizable. but i’d like to keep venturing out and trying new worlds and tropes. i want to write more trans characters. i’d like to write an ace fic. i’d like to bring my eye to things i haven’t written before and see what happens.

things i did this year: tried new pairings, wrote a true nouis story, wrote AUs, wrote more trans characters. and although it’s not explicitly identified in the story, bucky is demi in luckyverse, so i guess you could say i wrote an ace fic. so...i’m pretty pleased with all that.

‘i’d like to bring my eye to things i haven’t written before and see what happens’ is always going to be my writing mantra, i think. this year was very heavily focused on lucky, so i think i’d like to write more diversely next year, focusing on other stuff as well. i’d like to write more marvel stories, and i’d like to play around with winterhawk more and maybe find my own preferred niche inside that particular pairing. i just want to keep pushing myself and trying new things.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

i will say that @dearmrsawyer really stepped up and became my absolute mvp this year. jamila is the best for pure brainstorming, for just coming up with an idle idea and running with it until it’s something huge and important and vital to whatever project i’m working on. there is very little i wrote this year that she didn’t have a hand in to some extent. @nightwideopen was absolutely lucky’s #1 cheerleader, which means so much to me. @queerlyalex is always the best in terms of pure positivity and encouragement, about writing, about not writing, about life, about everything. @fleetwooded has been such a perfect beta for me, someone i absolutely trust to tell me the truth about whether or not something works, someone who is so thoughtful with comments and ideas, someone whose eye i 100% trust. @sarcathlon made me art!!!! holy shit, i’m never going to be over it, genuinely the nicest and most supportive compliment ever. and of course, bucky barnes has my entire heart and i’m never gonna stop yelling about how he is a good boy trying his best.

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

uh, yes. lol. all of bucky’s anatomical awareness is a result of my stupid useless anatomy degree. at least i finally got to use it for something!! a lot of bucky’s anxiety and panic is based on my own. bucky’s hatred and fear of grocery stores is literally me.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

i’m always going to say to write the stories that you want to write, and fuck all the writing rules that tell you there’s a specific way to tell a story. tell it your way. have fun. writing is pointless if you don’t genuinely enjoy it, because we aren’t getting paid for this, and most of us aren’t going to write things that are wildly popular, so the joy has to come from the creation of it. if you expect the joy to come entirely from other people’s responses to your work, you’re going to be disappointed. if you love what you write, then you are guaranteed that at least one person is going to love what you wrote. that’s all i got.

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

we’ve got two (or three 😩) more parts of the luckyverse in the wings, and i want to write my zayn character study. everything else is up for grabs.

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

listen, i’m tagging e v e r y o n e who i think wrote something this year because i wanna get this thing going again. so please, if i accidentally skipped you, or if you are someone i don’t follow who is reading this and you want to do it, please feel free, just say i tagged you.

@magicalrocketships @veryniceandgood @bigbrotherlouis @secretspeller @ferryboatpeak @zaptains @jiksax @mildlymaddy @dearmrsawyer @saysthemagpie @polaroidgirlfriend @clarz @imlouisaf @queerlyalex @nothanksweregood @musingsofmaura @niallspringsteen @foliealou @tintedglasses @sarcathlon @nocontrolforlouis @fleetwooded @nightwideopen @captn-sara-holmes @flawedamythyst @akai-coat @claraxbarton @kangofu-cb

#me me me #long post #writing #year in review #goodbye 2018 #it's hilarious how long this takes to do when no one is going to read it but it was nice to organize my own thoughts about the year i had

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