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#he needs to be visited by three ghosts man he needs a personal phone call from the fucking pope telling him he's going to burn in hell
dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop
Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.
Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.
They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.
Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.
The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.
It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.
Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.
Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.
Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.
He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.
He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.
"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.
"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"
Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.
"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"
Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."
"I'm sorry Charles"
"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "
Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.
This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.
No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.
Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.
Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.
But Danny didn't stop there.
Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.
People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.
Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.
Not a single staff member in sight, either.
Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.
Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.
If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.
As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.
Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.
He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.
Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '
Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.
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mariedreamlove · 1 year
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I know I should work on new chapters for my like three running TBP fanfictions, bug imagine this:
- it's written in Robin's pov
- it takes place after Robin's passing and the death of the Grabber, and he is watching the siblings reuinte.
- he and the other Ghostboys don't dissapear, and they decide to watch over either their families (Bruce), their pets (Billy/Paperboy), something they really enjoyed in their life (we all know it's Vance with Pinball), go see the world they never got to see because their lives were shorten (Griffin) or someone special. Robin decides to watch over Finney.
- for a moment he thinks the Grabber's mask is there, but it isn't as he begins to look back.
- times is weird when you are dead, so Robin doesn't realize when months or even years go by. He begins to see Finney often depressed in his bed or at the graveyard, sitting Infront of his grave.
- but slowly he notices (and because he is dead, he doesn't realize literally half a year or something has passed) that Finney begins to live again. He goes out, to movies, and just living. Robin knows he should be happy about it, but deep inside of him begins to tear something apart.
- he is at the graveyard as the "Grabber" appears. A chase (or literally Robin running away as the "Grabber" pleads with him to stop) begins. Robin then wants to be as brave as Finn and tries taking the Grabber down, but it isn't the Grabber. It's death.
- death can change it's appearance , and often wears the face of the last person someone saw before dying. Robin tells it more or less pissed off it should wear something else. Then it changes to Robin's dad.
-Robin realizes in his last moments, his father had to be watching over him, but doesn't want to go with death as it offers to take Robin with it. Robin says he is fine with being a ghost and not growing up anymore, as long as he can watch over Finney growing up.
- death calls him and the other boys "lost souls", "poor souls", "children that I failed" and things.
- death has let the souls of the dead kids longer on earth, because it too was angry at the Grabber, because the boys were never supposed to die. So after the Grabber died, his soul was instantly collected.
- Robin continues watching over Finney, as death begins collecting the souls of the other boys.
- Robin begins to get jealous as Finn begins to get new friends, gets in a relationship with Donna. But he still visits Robin's grave and family, but it pains him.
- Donna becomes the help Finn needs, and listens to Finney talk about his experience in the basement, how guilty he feels for surviving. And how dear Robin was to him.
- Robin grows frustrated and begins trying to go poltergeist, and even menages to throw things down.
- Donna and Finney tell Gwen this, and she has an idea of who it is. She manages to either get the black phone or a Quija board and to get in contact with Robin. (they originally fear it's the Grabber, but are pleasently surprised to have Robin responding to him)
- Finney and Robin get unhealthy attached to eachother, and it's implied Donna is pregnant (it's years in the future, but again Robin doesn't see it) to a point where Finney's mental health is so declining that he mentions not living anymore.
- death comes again, like it always comes after having collected the souls of the other boys, and says that Robin should.. give up. He has watched Finney get a family, get happy. And now his known presence is destroying that. This makes Robin realize, Finney isn't a boy anymore. He has grown into a man, has a wife and already one kid.
- Robin tells Finney, he is going with death now, but is lying. Finney at first is shattered, but because of Donna, Gwen and his family get through it all. Robin again refuses to go with death, and just watches over Finney and now his family.
- years pass, and Robin had taken care of Finney's kids and even grandkids.
- he is, in Finney's words, "the angle protecting this Family". He even has named his daughter after him,
- in a hospital, Finney is asked by a grandchild to tell the story of Robin. Finney tells it, and Robin leaves the room, because again death is coming. Death has changed its tactic of looking like the last person someone saw while dying, and instead looks like the one someone wants to see most before dying.
- Robin and death are more friends than before, but he tells death to go away because Robin still wants to look after Finney, but death tells him to turn around.
- death isn't looking like anyone Robin wanted to see, but it looks like.. Robin himself. Without blood but wearing the same things he went missing in.
- Finney is dying.
- Robin begins begging with death to let him live longer, because death has had mercy with him before, but death denies it. Finney was never supposed to die in the basement, and so were the other boys, but sometimes beings can just.. destroy plans and change things (the Grabber did this).
- Robin says he wants to take Finney with him, and death agrees.
- a absolutely tear wrecking reunion, and Finney begins looking like his younger self again, because that his when he didn't want to live anymore for a long long time. Time is fluid in death.
- Donna and Gwen whisper their goodbyes to Finney, as Robin's soul begins to get collected, Finney says his final goodbyes to his family, thanking Gwen for finding the boys, and Donna for saving him. But Finn can let go, he has trust in his family, so his soul too gets taken.
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iris-ren · 2 years
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abducted
chapter nine
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getou x reader
tags: violence // feral reader // fluff //
word count: 2.3k
chapter eight
________________________________
gojo hadn’t sensed getou’s presence watching him in quite a while, it made him wonder what had him so busy all of a sudden. satoru thought about this as he walked through the tokyo streets, having just left the home belonging to a woman he barely knew. the man felt less guilty cheating on you when it was done with women he wasn’t very familiar with.
cheating was wrong this he knew, but gojo had never been good at staying devoted to one person. he tried his best with you, but even when you spent most nights at his house he would still have to booty call some poor woman in his phone not long after you left. he couldn’t help it, he was lonely. that’s what he told himself at least.
when you were first taken by getou, satoru devoted every second to trying to locate you—but as the days wore on, gojo felt the loneliness begin to creep in. at first, he spent the long days talking to high ranking sorcerer’s seeking whatever knowledge they might have on getou’s realm. those long days turned into even longer nights when he crept into another woman’s bed. gojo didn’t try to excuse his own behavior anymore, he knew what he was doing was wrong but that didn’t take away from the weight he felt on his chest not having you around.
satoru made his way through the muggy streets of tokyo. the area was usually buzzing with people and cars moving in every direction, but at this late hour the streets were a ghost town. the lanky man turned quickly down a small alleyway that led to a staircase descending down to a large black door. wasting no time, gojo knocked three times just as instructed. the door creaked open, seemingly by itself.
gojo knew where he was going, he pushed forward through the dark hallway of the basement and stopped at yet another door. he repeated the same knock, but this time a person answered.
“well would you look at this, the mighty satoru gojo has come to pay me a visit.” the special grade sorcerer eased. the man backed away from the door, ushering gojo inside of the office. “please have a seat.” he pointed to the leather chair sitting in front of the large wooden desk. the blonde man folded his arms against his chest, sitting to face gojo, “well i’m sure you're not here to have a drink or play cards, so please state the nature of your visit.” the man looked at gojo with sharp eyes, anxiously waiting for a response.
“i’m here to strike up a bargain with you.” gojo said in a matter of fact tone. not many people had ever seen the usually cheerful man, act so seriously, his odd demeanor indicated to the experienced sorcerer that whatever gojo needed—was serious.
“i’m all ears.” the man leaned back in his chair, preparing himself for whatever gojo might barter. “tell me naoya, what information can you give me on getou suguru?”
-
you had been holed up in the library for hours reading any book that could give you information on how to handle the weapon getou gifted you. you knew that the scythe was from the golden age of jujutsu, and that it takes any curse user's power if killed with its blade, but that was the full extent of your knowledge on the weapon. miscellaneous books old and new, were scattered around you on your spot on the floor. you had been in the library for so long, you could no longer comfortably sit on the couch, so you took to stretching out on the floor instead.
you fidgeted with the heart shaped necklace around your neck as you skimmed through the book in front of you. you would often absentmindedly play with the piece of jewelry, the object had turned into somewhat of a cornerstone for you. always bringing you comfort, and rooting you back into reality. it was your way of keeping suguru close to you, even when he wasn’t nearby.
you were too immersed in your thoughts to notice getou ducking through the library entryway, taking a moment to watch you. he tucked his hands into his pant pockets, feeling pride swel in his chest at the sight of you taking such an interest in learning about the cursed weapon.
“i should’ve known that i’d find you here.” getou’s voice cut through the silence, pulling your eyes from the paper. you felt almost giddy watching him walk towards you. he squatted down in front of you so that he may speak to you at eye level.
ever the gentleman.
“hi.” you whispered. “hi.” he said, matching your tone. “i haven’t seen you all day.” he mused. his chest felt tight, he suddenly felt afraid that you might have been having second thoughts about what happened between the two of you. “i thought you would want some space.” you mumbled, averting your gaze.
getou quirked a brow, “i suppose a healthy amount of space isn’t a bad thing, but why did you think i would want space?” you pursed your lips, “well i know how men are, you all get weirdly distant after sex.” your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling foolish for your choice of words.
the man chuckled from above you, still squatting over where you were laying on the floor, “i’m not most men.” he said with a fond look. you sat up, closing the distance between the two of you. your faces were just inches apart, as you spoke through a flirtatious smile.
“that much i know, most men wouldn’t abduct a woman and take them to a hidden realm against their will.” getou’s signature menacing smirk formed on his lips as he took your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, “aw, you're not still on about that, are you doll?”
you narrowed your eyes on the raven haired man, “don’t tease me, suguru.” you said in a wanting tone. his lips hovered just above yours as he spoke, “i wouldn’t dare.” he kissed you then. sweet and fondly, but it was too short lived. getou broke the kiss, and stood pulling you onto your feet with him. you looked up at him with a dazed look, wondering why he stopped.
“there’s somewhere i need to take you today.” he said in a more serious tone. “are we going to another night market?” you inquired, not understanding his change in demeanor. he shook his head, “no. not another night market, in fact you’ll need to bring your scythe.”
you felt even more confused then. where could he be taking you that you would need such a weapon? “i know we don’t see eye to eye on the non-sorcerer situation, but there’s something i’d like for you to see that might change your mind.”
-
getou used his teleportation technique to transport the two of you to the outside of what looked to be an ordinary temple of worship. you turned to face the man. his palm was still sitting on your lower back, resting on top of the long scythe that was slung across your body.
your face formed into a puzzled expression, “are we here to pay homage to the gods?” suguru shook his head solemnly, “no, this is not a temple for sorcerer’s. it’s for non-sorcerer’s only.” he took your hand in his, leading you up the steps of the temple. “you’ll understand soon enough.” he said in a direct manner.
the inside of the golden building seemed normal, like any other place of worship. it was quiet, and there were a handful of people praying silently. you couldn’t see anything wrong with the place. getou led you through a dimly lit corridor, out of the main worship area. the two of you ascended up a narrow staircase that led to a balcony lining the large circular room, overlooking a large group of people below.
suguru’s hand gripped onto yours tighter, he didn’t bother looking down on what was happening below—he already knew. instead the man watched your face as you analyzed the ritual playing out below. “what is this, getou?” you asked in a low tone, not wanting to be overheard. the mass of people below were separated into two groups. ones wearing black robes with silver etching, and others were forced into a kneeling position with their ankles and wrists bound with rope.
“a ritual—or sacrifice rather.” he spoke lowly into your ear. “these people’s religion dictates that any jujutsu sorcerer or anyone who can even see curses for that matter, are evil beings.” your breath hitched in your throat watching a few of the cloaked figures forcing one of the tied up victims to their feet, practically dragging them to the large altar where more cloaked figures stood.
he continued, still watching your face contort in horror, “this ritual is their way of ‘cleansing the world of jujutsu.’” you finally turned to face him, “but why? jujutsu sorcerer’s only work to keep non-sorcerer’s safe. this doesn’t make sense.”
getou nodded his head sympathetically, “you’re right. it doesn’t make sense, but they hate us nonetheless. they wish to exterminate all jujutsu sorcerers, which is why we have to beat them to it—kill them all. before they kill us.” you grimaced at his words, “but not all non-sorcerers are that way, not all of them want to kill us.”
“yes, but enough of them do.” his words carried a sense of finality, causing something to shift in your brain. you looked down at your hand enclosed in getou’s, then back down to the ritual below. the two of you stood in the shadows, watching one of the cloaked figures retrieve a large knife, slicing through the neck of one of the kneeling sorcerer’s. you slapped your free hand over your mouth, not wanting to scream—but even if you did you doubt anyone would have heard you. all of the non-sorcerer’s chanted loudly, while another sorcerer was being brought up for the next sacrifice.
your blood ran cold and a sharp white noise rang in your ear, getou was still speaking but you couldn’t hear him. your cursed energy flared to life as you pulled your scythe from its casing on your back. “wait!” getou called out to you, but you didn’t heed his command. the room was now aware of your presence, but you didn’t care. in fact you were happy to see their once joyful faces contort in fear, the sight only amplified the cursed energy dancing around you.
you were already cutting through the hoard of cloaked bodies by the time getou joined you. you almost felt bad for the cultists. there wasn’t much fight they could put up against the two of you, especially when getou summoned the dragon from his pool of curses. you continued slicing through the people. you swung your blade with a flourish, making your way to the middle of the room where the sorcerer’s were still tied up.
your blade was completely covered in crimson when you finally made it to the hysterical curse users. you looked around the room to find getou taking out the rest of the non-sorcerers before you decided it was safe enough to disarm. you slung your scythe back over your shoulder, and approached the group of curse users slowly. they were so scared, even tied up they tried to scoot away from you as you got near. you put your palms out in front of you, trying to signal that you weren’t a threat, “it’s okay, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”
“please, don’t hurt us.” a girl, about your age whimpered from the cluster of sorcerers. “i’m only here to help.” you said, moving to remove the rope from her limbs. seeing the state of her, and the rest of the group made you feel justified in your slaughter of the cultists. this whole situation was wrong, and these people were innocent.
you were still making work of untying everyone in the group of young and old, when getou called his dragon back into his cursed orb and joined you at your side. the sorcerer’s seemed to be paralyzed in fear even when they were freed from their restraints, not moving or speaking. they only looked up to you as if waiting for your command.
getou’s looked perfectly content when you turned to face him, “what’s wrong with them? they aren’t doing anything.” you asked in a confused tone. “well, you just saved their lives.” an older man from the group finally spoke up, “yes, you saved us. now we owe you a life debt.” you shifted your eyes back and forth from the man and getou, feeling even more confused. the man bowed from his spot on the floor, his head was practically touching the floor before he rose to face you once more. “with this life debt i will follow you wherever you go, and serve you to the best of my ability.” the man spoke certainly, and the others nodded in agreement.
you waved a hand dismissively, “oh that’s not necessary, i-“ suguru reached for your hand. “you can’t reject a life debt once it is claimed, and even if you could, we will need them in the future.” you couldn’t understand why either one of you could possibly need a bunch of sorcerer’s who probably weren’t even at a level four. you crossed your arms against your chest, “why would we need them in the future?” you wondered.
“there’s a war coming doll, and we’re going to need every sorcerer we can get.”
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achillieus · 3 years
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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)
summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB
part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)
(other parts)   (masterlist)
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This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.
Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.
No more stars for you and I.
“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”
Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.
He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.
He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.
And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.
And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.
/
It goes like this:
There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.
The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.
How could I ever forget someone like you?
The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.
/
Sebastian calls and texts a lot.
He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.
/
You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.
23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing
06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha
06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back
06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3
23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones
/
(three weeks and 10 seconds later)
“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”
“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”
Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.
/
You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.
“Surprise?”
Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.
“How?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.”
You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.
/
(looking back, these were the golden days)
You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.
Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.
You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.
He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.
You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.
He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.
“Why are you so hot?”
“Climate change”
“Oh, shut up”
It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.
And that’s the saddest part.
/
Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.
And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.
Who falls in love in ten days?  
Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.
What will you be then?
A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?
He is your whole world.
(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)
He is your whole world.
And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.
/
It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.
“I don’t agree with this.”
“Seb, it’s for the best.”
Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.
“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.
“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”
He nods, he understands.
“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”
Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.
“I know, I’ll love you the same.”
“Maybe we’ll meet again.”
“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”
He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.
And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.
/
(every night when you close your eyes you see him)
(every night you look at the stars and think of him)
/
A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“He said the exact same thing.”
You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.
Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.
Three months pass and you almost text him.
Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.
The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.
Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.
And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.
And he doesn’t know any constellation names.
And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.
/
It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.
Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.
No, it can’t be him.
You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.
Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.
He won’t recognize me, he can’t.
But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.
He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.
You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.
It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.
“What are you doing here?”
“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”
If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.
“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”
He nods a thank you.
“And you? In Prague?”
“I was at a friend.”
He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.
And then he laughs.
“I was right.”
You’re confused, he notices.
“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”
“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”
“I would have found you.”
You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.
“I didn’t believe you then.”
I barely believe you now.
He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.
“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.
“And what will you tell them?”
“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”
“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”
The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
One last look.
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.
“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”
He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 
You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.
You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.
You get into your plane and you silently sob.
/
And then it’s summer.
And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.
They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.
Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.
I’ll love you for a long time.
So long for nothing.
/
i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 
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nev3rfound · 3 years
Text
the other widow : b.b
natasha may have left what she once knew behind when she became an avenger, but there is still so much more to learn about her sister who escaped the red room with the help of a certain metal armed soldier. (3k)
masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!
requested: yes! this has been a long awaited idea from @ateliefloresdaprimavera i hope you like it love :) warnings: mentions of violence, blood, nightmares. obviously, I haven't seen the black widow movie so this is just my interpretation!
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
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In another life, things might've been different for you. Perhaps, you could have left your home country and followed many your age in their quest to find a better life in America or Europe. You might have met someone, a kind man who took care of you, who loved you deeply.
That would have been nice, in another lifetime. But it wasn't reality, at least, not yours.
Your reality was living in a world plagued by nightmares, of what was done to you for many years. It hurt to blink as you saw yourself, lying back on that table as Doctors crowded around you, muttering about the success of their work.
"No, she's still out there," Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you. The kitchen window remains open whilst you sit outside, tugging at the rose petals from the rose bush. It always was too pretty. Pretty things aren't designed to last for long.
Melina sighs heavily into her phone, glancing away from the window. "What do you expect me to do? She doesn't go anywhere." Disappointment laces her tone combined with the tiredness of her mind. She's been trying for months to encourage you to go out, further than the land you live on.
Faintly you can hear the other end of the conversation, Melina always had a habit of keeping her phone on speaker. "I might visit soon." That is all you managed to hear, but it was enough for you to drop the remainder of the rose and crush the petals beneath your feet.
"Oh good, you're awake." A pair of gloves snap against his wrists, causing you to flinch in your seat. "Now, Y/n, there's no point trying to struggle, you know what happened last time." Doctor Yeznik reminds you with a twisted smile, waiting for you to nod.
"They deserved it." You dare to mutter, only to hear Yeznik chuckle before he turns back to face you, gripping your face in his hand.
"And you deserve this." He seethes, stabbing a needle into your arm before you can fight back. "No one is coming to save you, Y/n, never forget that." Yeznik whispers, watching as your eyes begin to droop until you're unable to fight the urge to sleep.
Rising to your feet, you can feel a smile ghost your lips at the sight of a Blue Tit perching on the edge of the birdbath. One of his wings isn't quite right, and as you approach it, it remains perfectly still.
Holding your hands out, you ignore the scars from the restraints still marking your wrists and forearms. "I won't hurt you," You tell the bird as it dips its head into the water, shaking the excess off. "I can help you, little one." You add quietly, only to watch the bird retreat and fly away uneasily.
"There's always next time." Melina calls out from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Yeah," You nod, lowering your arms and bury your hands into your pockets. "if it makes it through the night without being able to fly far."
Entering the kitchen, you pass Alexei in silence, despite him turning his head to speak up.
Once out of sight, Alexei averts his attention to Melina who simply shakes her head. "She's still working on recovering." Melina sighs, taking a seat opposite the broad man. "The, the red room got worse after Natasha escaped."
"You don't have to explain," Alexei waves her off, aware of you standing at the top of the stairs, listening in due to the creak of the floorboards. "it'll take time."
"I just don't know if that's something we have." Melina comments, passing a burner phone to Alexei with a text message on display.
Shifting in his seat, Alexei looks back at Melina before crushing the phone in his grasp. "We'll do what we can." He mutters before silence ensues and the pressure from the floorboard beneath your feet eases as you return to your needed solitude.
*
Opening your eyes, you knew something was off, something was different within the house.
Underneath your pillow, you grab ahold of your gun before traipsing out from your room which remains in permanent darkness.
As you exit your bedroom, light tries to seep through the gap in the door but you quietly close it, keeping the darkness concealed from the light.
Avoiding any creaking floorboards, you keep your gun aimed at all times before the faint sound of laughter catches your attention from downstairs. It was a rarity to hear anything joyous in the household, mostly arguments occurred or stories of fights Alexei shares that you can recite from memory if you were ever asked.
But this was different, something lighthearted shared for a brief moment before you turn the corner and hover by the kitchen doorway seeing all the seats taken at the table, Melina's now taken by a redhead.
"This is a surprise." You speak up, placing your gun on the counter, now catching everyone's attention.
Smiling to Yelena, Natasha quickly turns around in her chair, leaning her arm over the back. "Hey sis," She greets you, her accent replaced by an American version. "long time no see, huh?"
Everyone in the room remains still, waiting for you to make the first move like a scared animal. You'll either scarper or approach with caution, and even at that moment, you're unsure which route you'll take.
"What brings you back here?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you remain standing, despite Alexei rising to his feet and offering you his chair.
"There's some unfinished business I have to deal with." Natasha states, and Yelena motions for you to come closer whilst Natasha has her back turned.
"And we're being dragged into it somehow?" You're quick to comment, remembering the last time it happened which resulted in your previous home being burnt to the ground and Natasha vanishing into thin air once more.
Rising to her feet, Natasha walks over to the doorway leading into the garden. She doesn't wait for you to follow, but she knows eventually you will.
"She means well, Y/n." Yelena tells you whilst playing with a knife, jabbing it against the table despite Melina swatting it away.
Humming to yourself, you force your feet forward until you're outside, listening to the peaceful presence of nature.
Whilst you're in your own world temporarily, Natasha can't help but take the opportunity to observe you, notice the changes since she last saw you. Melina explained the nightmares you've been having of late, how you wake up clawing at your own skin until it bleeds and you clutching onto a pillow, tearing into the cotton with ease as you sob.
You look visibly drained, that much Natasha can tell. She knew she should've brought you with her, away to America the last time she was here, but there wasn't enough time. She watched you from afar as the building fell into itself, devoured by the flames and you looking around for your sister, nowhere to be seen.
"There's a little blue tit who visits daily now," You begin to explain, opening your eyes as they remain trained on the empty birdbath. "he's got a damaged wing, can't fly very far but he always visits." Moving closer to the bath, you can see the reflection of other birds flying above in groups. One or two flies further back from the others, flapping their wings in desperation to not be left behind; something you know all too well.
As your hands rest on the birdbath, Natasha can see the scars across your skin clearly.
"Y/n, I never got a chance to apologise last time I was here," Natasha begins, stepping closer toward you, yet you seem oblivious to her words.
"And I hope at some point he'll let me help him, mend him back to his best so he can fly away." Your lips rise for a second at the thought before returning to a straight line, now allowing yourself to process Natasha's statement. "You don't need to apologise, Nat."
"But I do, Y/n." Natasha urges as she resists reaching out for your hand, knowing no one touches you anymore unless they dare risk a broken bone or two. "I should've found you in there and taken you with me. You were still a child, I,"
"I don't blame you, sister." Turning to face her, you force yourself to smile, an attempt to reassure her as she frowns deeply. "The only person I blame for everything is Yeznik." You can't help but shudder, hearing his voice in the back of your mind, one of the many who taunts you in your sleep.
"That's why I'm here." Natasha states.
You can't stop the scoff from leaving your lips. "You can't be serious, Natasha." Yet, you watch your sister nod immediately. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"
"I could ask you the same thing." She retorts, catching you off guard. "Don't think I don't know about the truth behind your escape, Y/n."
"What are you talking about?" You question, knowing better than to confess to your sister of all people. "I escaped that hell hole on my own. Killed several guards in the process and escaped with nine bullet wounds." You remind her, lifting your shirt to show the bullet wound scars that never properly healed.
"But you didn't escape from the Red Room. You escaped during a mission." She explains, watching your expression falter for half a second, but it was enough for her to know you're lying.
Shaking your head, you back away toward the small hutch hidden beneath an oak tree that currently houses three rabbits.
"That is preposterous, even for me, Natasha." You chuckle, opening the hutch and reach for the number one who happily hops out and stands beside you.
Looking away from you, Natasha can see the three others watching closely from the kitchen window. She can see Yelena mouthing something, but rolls her eyes when Natasha shakes her head.
"The Winter Soldier." Yelena marches over, causing you to tense up and the rabbit hops back into the hutch as you gently lock it once more. "Remember him, Y/n?"
"His name is Bucky." You mutter under your breath before slowly standing up. "And don't you dare talk about him." You spit at Yelena who spares Natasha a look.
"You helped each other escape, didn't you?" Natasha pushes her question, and this time to her surprise you don't object.
"Follow me," You sigh, walking around the garden to a set of stairs, leading you to the rooftop filled with trees and plants.
Admiring the greenery, Natasha hesitantly follows behind you.
"You going to stand there all day or sit down?" Raising a brow to Natasha, she breathes out a laugh and sits down on one of the seats dotted around that isn't taken by a plant.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Natasha leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs and you mirror her action.
"Yes." You mutter. "But I can't remember everything it, part of it I blocked out." You admit, feeling your leg already beginning to shake beneath you.
"You will be accompanied this time, Y/n." Your tutor, Ms Ivanov tugs on your ponytail forcefully whilst you remain seated.
"I don't need company." Tugging your head forward, her fingers fall through the ends of your hair and she hums in response. "I'm capable of this myself."
Ms Ivanov chuckles under her breath before standing in front of your desk, resting her hands on the sides as her eyes fixate on yours. "That might be so, but not this time." Pushing her hands from your desk, Ivanov nods to the closed door.
Within seconds someone is forced through the metal frame with a bag covering their face. They're of a large build, but your eyes widen at the sight of metal making up their left arm.
"Is it?" Your question leaves your lips before you've fully thought about what this means, and Ivanov smirks.
Stepping toward the concealed figure, she tugs the sheet from their face, revealing a mass of brown hair.
He lifts his head up and stares at you immediately those pensive blue eyes you've heard whispers of. He fights against his restraints as two guards stand behind him with loaded guns.
"There will be plenty of time for that, soldat." Ivanov laughs, patting his metal arm. "Now, Y/n. It's time to go."
*
"I don't know what happened on that mission. But when I woke up, I, I was free." Unable to look at your sister, your focus lies on the breeze weaving through the branches of the trees.
Natasha leans forward, wishing she could tell you everything she knew. "You saved each other, Y/n." She speaks up, remembering the last time she saw him, a broken shell of the man he once was, his demeanour mirroring yours.
"I guess," You shrug. "but after everything, I, I have no idea what happened to him. I, I don't even know if he's still," Pursing your lips, the word never leaves as you curl your arms toward your stomach.
Looking toward the others, Natasha sighs at their disapproving glares. She knows they mean well, that they are practically family. But you're the only true blood family Natasha has left, and she can't lie to you anymore, not this time.
Standing in Wakanda, Bucky smiled truly for the first time in years. He was no longer plagued by the fear of becoming the Winter Soldier. He was finally free of it all.
But he still had a long way to go, to make amends for those he hurt, and amongst everyone, there was you. His Black Widow, Y/n.
"Hey, Barnes." Natasha stands beside him, looking out at the vast farmland that surrounds them. She can't help but think how much you would love to be somewhere like this, somewhere that is peaceful, tranquil.
"Hello, Natasha." Bucky turns to face the redhead, having not spoken to her since he was under Zemo's control. "I erm, I would like to apologise for everything I did, and for hurting you all those years ago." Bucky explains, and Natasha patiently listens, allowing him to get his full speech out. "And for what they made me do in," Furrowing his brows together, Natasha clears her throat.
"We don't have to talk about that." She tells him as she reaches into her pocket, taking out a folded piece of paper, well worn. "I wanted to ask you something before anyone knows where I am."
"Okay?" Bucky answers uneasily, tugging on the cloth that covers the remainder of his left shoulder.
Unfolding the piece of paper, Bucky can see a glimpse of a black and white photo.
"Here," Natasha holds the photograph out, face down to Bucky who hesitantly accepts. She watches intently as he turns the photograph over and can't help but smile as his breath hitches in his throat.
"Y/n." Bucky looks up to Natasha who simply nods.
"I was wondering if you'd remember her." Natasha crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide the smirk forming on her face and amusement in her tone.
A playful scoff leaves Bucky's lips. "How could I forget her?" He thinks aloud. "I could never forget the person who helped me escape, who, who," 'Helped me realise I'm still human despite everything I've done.' Bucky thinks to himself, remembering the night before he left you as you lay in his arms whilst he listened to your soft reassurances. "Do you know where she is?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but it's useless.
"Yes." Natasha answers. "Y/n Romanoff." She states, and Bucky stares blankly at Natasha for a moment, before a light laugh leaves his lips.
"I shoulda known." He sighs dramatically. "Makes a lot of sense now." Bucky mutters, but Natasha doesn't pry. "Is, is she with you?" He glances past her, toward the jet she came on, but Natasha shakes her head.
"She's safe, in Russia." Natasha explains as she walks alongside Bucky toward the lake. "But she prefers the company of animals over people these days."
"Makes two of us then." Bucky comments. "I, I promised I'd find her." Allowing his mind to drift as the lake ripples, Bucky pictures your sleeping form in his arms minutes before he left you. He whispered you a promise, one he has yet to fulfil.
"Then let me help you keep that promise." Natasha places her hand on his arm gently, and Bucky snaps out from his thoughts. "I know you're still healing, and she is too. But I'll come back, Barnes."
Bucky nods. "Thank you, Natasha."
"James Barnes," Natasha slowly interrupts your prolonged silence. "is still alive, he, he's healing, but he remembers you, Y/n."
You reach out and take Natasha's hand in yours. For a moment, you simply stare, void of emotion before tightening your grip, beginning to crush her fingers whilst Natasha remains stoic.
"Don't lie to me, Nat." You tell her, keeping your eyes locked on hers.
"I'm not lying, Y/n." She responds, ignoring the pain you're inflicting before your grip begins to ease, but she doesn't pull away immediately. "He made you a promise, didn't he?"
"I, I don't know." You admit sadly, looking down at your lap, faintly hearing his voice in the back of your mind fighting through the horrid memories engrained there from the red room.
"He did, Y/n." Natasha asserts herself. "Would you like to see him?"
"I think so." You answer honestly as you uncurl your body and sit upright. "But only once this is over. Once Yeznik is gone. I don't want to be haunted anymore, Nat."
This time, Natasha extends her hand, taking yours in hers delicately.
"Okay, sis." She breathes out, helping you to your feet. "Let's get started."
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BNHA X DP Crossover HCs
After the long wait and finals, here are my ideas for all the quirks/occupations and other concepts I devised for the DP characters in the BNHA universe. This was just for fun and for inspiration towards others interested in this crossover au in general. 
Tagging the people that were looking forward to this post based on the replies: @qoinq-qhost, @floralflowerpower, @tgfangirl4eva @goodfish-bowl, @whitehairglowinggreeneyedcrush and more. 
Anyways, happy reading, folks!
Mr. Lancer
Hero name: Mr. Scholastic
Quirk: Bookworm
Involves his iconic usage of literature titles & quotes for swears to become abilities corresponding to the novel’s contents/themes. Course, he is limited to only books he has read and can quote accurately. Additionally, his voice gets very raspy past two or three quotes as well.
Occupation: Homeroom Teacher for Class 1- A; He’s very dedicated to his new students and teaching the fundamentals of being a pro hero and more! Course, I don’t think his chamomile tea with a wedge of lemon is enough to help him relax from his students (*cough* Danny, Tucker and Poindexter) from their antics at times. 
Danny
Hero name: Phantom 
Quirk: Ghost core (Ok, @coffeecakecafe had the best name for this one gotta give credit here)
Able to do anything a ghost is perceived to do. Go through walls, disappear and fly. This is a one of a kind quirk as it was obtained from Danny’s old quirk being altered by a machine his parents made that would repurpose/alter an individual’s quirk based on their past family members' own metahuman genetics.
Danny is doing his best and trying to understand his new quirk without causing too much attention to himself while doing so but it seems like its been doing the opposite as of late. Thankfully, he won’t be doing it alone with all his classmates around to help him!
Sam
Hero Name: Black Dahlia 
Quirk: Overgrown 
Able to create any plant that she knows the biological makeup and content of in almost any environment. However, it is important for her to drink lots of nutrient rich water and take in enough sun if she plans to create larger versions of these plants.
Tucker
Hero name: Tech Master
Quirk: Tech Core
Located on his chest/heart area is a special energy core capable of powering electronics at a rate faster than anything made-man could ever hope to achieve. As a kid, Tucker would tinker away in his family’s garage on a suit that would harness his power to the fullest extent and lead a new era of support tech in the hero world.
Valerie
Hero name: Red Huntress
Quirk: Electromagnetism (Someone I’ve been trying to find their post on my blog had posted this idea and I fell in love with it ever since)
She’s like Static Shock but with a dash of magenta/ruby lasers she can create through focusing her electromagnetism through her finger tips. She is an expert with her quirk and has the best handle of her quirk than most of her peers. She is the most frequent visitor in the support equipment workshop next to Tucker, Poindexter and Danny. It’s how she built the hoverboard she has in the show that utilizes her electromagnetic abilities for both offensive and defensive maneuvers. (Also, I enjoy the idea that Bullet is Val’s uncle on her mom’s side and is her biggest supporter alongside her dad, Damien Gray).
Jazz 
Quirk: Serenity 
Helps calm individuals and give them a sense of safety/security when they’re around her in a 10 feet radius. Though, anyone out of range cannot be affected by her quirk and she needs to be conscious in order to use it.
She planned on becoming a pro hero but felt her powers were best suited for her dream profession as a psychologist. She has used her quirk a lot when Danny was overwhelmed with his studies prior to UA. Course, a phone call and sibling chat over the phone certainly does the job for Danny now when it comes to preparing material for exams. (Course, its up to you guys to decide)
Dash
Hero name: Rager
Quirk: Strength Magnification
Improves his physique and stamina by a large percentage for a set amount of time. Needs to be careful of how much/long he magnifies his body or else his body will become immensely sore. 
Kwan
Hero name: Rallier 
Quirk: Team Rally (50/50)
Able to duplicate himself 3-4 times while being able to power-up allies’ quirks or stamina with a rally chant to help the team. The more duplicates there are the rally effect multiplies/stacks on the individual but it can lead to dangerous outcomes for their quirk output. 
Kwan is the class representative for 1-A, he’s the best at the job and was more than thrilled to be the one leading his class in more ways than one.  
Paulina
Hero name: Enchantress
Quirk: Charm
If the opponent is flustered by her taunts or flirting, their vision will become altered and start seeing things that are not there. It works better on men than women and the opponent can snap out of it with enough willpower or if they’re not interested in her.
Star
Hero name: Ms. Meteorite
Quirk: Comet
Similar to Gran Torino’s Jet quirk except faster and she can create an explosive impact on where she lands. Similar to a meteorite landing on earth, she also learns to use this as a long distance move by punching fast enough as she descends to create wind pressure punches.
Poindexter
Hero name: Tex (like in Tex Avery; Danny gave him the idea!) 
Quirk: Slapstick
His appearance is black and white just like an old timey cartoon character as well as having the durability and cartoon powers of one. However, his quirk can only work as long as what he does with it is funny in the circumstance it’s used for. Sort of like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” rules in a sense. 
Sidney is part of Class 1-A just saying, I don’t care, this is Poindexter’s time to shine here to be the coolest/funniest person in the class. Also, Tucker’s most loyal friend/tester for new support items. 
Wes Weston
Hero name: Vigilance
Quirk: Deduction
He is able to deduct people’s identities to flaws/weak points for him to use against them and  exploit against problems. 
Class 1-B Representative and the most annoying/terrifying person that Danny has dealt with in his life. He was able to figure out that Danny’s quirk is not his own or more so that it's not natural and takes every opportunity to state this regardless if anyone is listening or not. 
Amber Mclain
Hero Name: Ember
Quirk: Fiery voice (50/50)
Her quirk uses the vibrations in her sining voice to conduct intense heat waves onto opponents or utilize to rumble the structures around here and even put out the flames from her quirk. Its like a combination of Present Mic and Endevours quirk but it leaves her with a strained or inflamed vocal cords with overuse. 
Third year student or an upcoming rock star that has certainly gain huge popularity after her song “Remember” was a nationwide hit amongst the younger generation. She’s striving to be the top hero while making her next hit to become the 1# song on the listings. 
Dani
Hero name: Phantwo (lol jk; unsure what her name would be)
Quirk: Poltergeist 
Similar to Danny’s quirk “Ghost”, except she has the additional ability to melt herself to a slimy puddle and use her ectoplasmic slime to trap or surprise opponents.
Clockwork
Hero Name: Clockwork
Quirk: Time Keeper
Clockwork’s quirk allows him to stop time for 5 to 15 minutes and be able to rewind it in the same amount of time. It can be one to multiple objects as long as he touches them in order to interact with them.
Principle of UA in this au. He’s quite a reserved man but still manages to visit and congregate with students throughout the school during lunch period. 
Flynn Fenton/Flynn Walker
Hero Name: The Green Knight
Quirk: Mineralization 
His quirk allows him to manipulate the minerals and inorganic materials in the atmosphere to create into crystalized constructs that are almost stronger than diamond. Luckily, the crystals have no value so he doesn’t have to worry about that aspect of his quirk. He does have to worry about his skin becoming dried out as a result of his quirk usage. 
Flynn is a third year student that loves to check up on his cousin, Danny, any chance he gets bc of the amount of work he does with his internships.
James Walker (or James W. Hausermann)
Hero name: Warden Wraith
Quirk: Plasma Apparatus
His quirk ionizes the electrolytes in the blood system into plasma. His entire body is composed of plasma giving him his skeletal appearance. He can create plasma chains, teleport from point A to B and more as long as he focuses and has enough energy at use. Course, he can have minor to severe dehydration and imbalance in his electrolyte levels from overuse. 
Occupation: CEO of an infrastructure security company/Provisional License Examiner just like Gang Orca.The ghost prison guards become his backup/helpers for the exam phases. (They’re just trained stuntmen with combat or military experience for the occasion).
Also, I like to think Walker has kids in this au who are in the Class 1-A group; they’re not hard to spot they take after their father with their skeletal complexion. 
Skulker
Villain name: Quirk Hunter
Quirk: Tracker
The moment Skulker makes eye contact with his target he will be able to hunt them down and find them anywhere no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. He can lock on to only one target, but he will be able to know their heart beat, quirk, be able to place a tracking/scent line that only he can see and will lead him to his target’s location. It lasts for over a day or a half.
Occupation: Skulker is known for capturing, info-detailing or “retiring” newcomer pros or specific quirk users for his clients that pay him handsomely for their targets, dead or alive. Thanks to Vlad, Danny was strictly intended to be captured alive by Skulker but sometimes he gets too thrilled by the hunt to not have a memento. Trust me, it's more of a dangerous 
Nicolai Technus 
Villain Name: Technus 
Quirk: Technopathy
A genius in his own right, even if he’s a little crazy, with the best ability possible for a man of science and innovation. As long as he knows the makeup and attributes of the machine, Technus is able to completely repurpose or change a machine’s qualities for offensive and defensive qualities. Whenever that be for a mech suit or hacking a high tech system for entry, he’s able to do it as long as he knows what it is and how it functions. An example is repurposing a slot machine into a submachine gun that shoots coins at the target. 
Vlad Masters
Name: Vlad Plasmius
Quirk: Vampire
Can do anything a vampire can supposedly do. However, he was able to manifest an additional aspect of this quirk which is the ability to copy any quirk users ability. Based on the type of blood he ingests decides the amount of time he can use the copied quirk for.
Occupation: CEO of his own hero firm, he is extremely selective with the interns he has that there is a major waitlist to be even consider for Masters Inc. Course, imagine the surprise Danny must of felt when he received an offer from Vlad right off the bat after the Sports festival. 
Bruce Guiles (Bullet)
Hero Name: Bullet 
Quirk: Sphyraena or Chimera Fish
Able to do anything a barracuda can do or the quirk is a 50/50 mutant quirk in which he has both the traits of a barracuda, Chimaeras and a touch of piranha from his parents being of one of these fish species hence Chimera. Bullet can do anything those fish can do overall but he can’t go too long without hydration from water. Water quality and its oxygen content also affect his abilities by a noticeable percentage but he still remains quite formidable as a quirk user.
Occupation: Captain of a coast guard team, he’s a strict military man with an amazing record of saving people from any disasters both on land and sea. Him and Walker are best buddies ever since they went to school together. 
Vortex
Hero Name: Vortex
Quirk: Storm Warning
Vortex can utilize any variation of a natural disaster depending on the environment he’s in. Hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, you name it he can create it for his use. However, despite his amazing control over his quirk it is still possible for him to create these disasters if he lost control or magnify another pre-existing one if he loses focus. 
Occupation: Storm-chaser/Forecaster; His control and knowledge in combating/predicting these natural disasters has led to him to be part of a storm chasing crew and they’re the best in helping disaster prevention teams evacuate citizens as a result.
Petra Eris
Hero name: Pandora
Quirk: Butterfly Effect
Can manipulate or prevent a chaotic event to happen if she was in proximity and present to prevent it to happen. Or even give a little chaos to the opponent to deal with during battle. 
One of the top ten heroes and most beloved heroes in the country. She is the best strategist in any team and has a way to predict any event before they happen given the necessity of it for her quirk to work in her favor. 
Johnny 
Vigilante name: Johnny 13
Quirk: Unlucky
Johnny manifests his bad luck into a shadow that will latch onto opponents and cause unfortunate events to occur more for that individual as a result. However, the shadow cannot exist in complete sunlight; it can only remain if there are already shadows in his general area or it’s nighttime and its effects are strongest at that time obviously.
Occupation: Johnny is the leader of a biker gang or de-facto leader of said biker gang who loves to raise hell and helping folks that need saving whenever he’s around or is up to the task. Kitty tags along with him to help him out of jams and bc she loves him. :3
Kitty
Vigilante name: Kitty
Quirk: Lovesick
Kitty sends a smooch towards her opponent which if it makes contact causes the individual to have nausea or become disoriented for around 10 minutes. It can also have a chance of lasting longer if the individual was sort of infatuated with her regardless of gender. 
Pariah Dark
Villain name: King Pariah
Quirk: Ultimate Adaptation 
Similar to all for one except with the unpredictability for both the user and opponents. Pariah can manifest any type of quirk needed to defeat anyone that stands in his way both one-on-one and in groups. Course, drawbacks are the learning curve to some of the quirks and that multiple adaptions he utilizes at once will destroy his cells in the process. 
Pariah is a former follower of all for one who had unique quirk that All for one augmented to help him succeed if both Shigaraki and Tomura failed in their own conquest for the world. But now Pariah has his own plans to succeed where they failed and become the leader who shapes a new world order with an iron fist. 
Frederick Kingsmen
Villain/vigilante name: Fright Knight
Quirk: Burning Energy Infusion
Able to form/infuse objects with his own burning energy life force that is capable of burning or slicing through any in his sight. The sweat he gives off is what provides the material needed to ignite his unnatural flames despite it causing his body to overheat still. 
Fright Knight is Pariah’s second-in-command with a loyalty to him as strong as his control over his power. Fright Knight has faced many pro-heros as he carried out the smaller phases of Pariah’s plans and most of them barely came close towards defeating or leaving as much as  scratch on the knight. 
Rodolfo Gonzalo  
Hero name: Wulf
Quirk: Werewolf + Portal creation (50/50?)
Can do anything a werewolf can supposedly do; somehow it allows him to create portals with his claws to locations he has marked with them or visited in the past. 
Wulf was abducted on by Pariah’s forces and sent into the Nomu labs for experimentation to force on another quirk and instill complete allegiance to their cause. Course, Wulf broke free as a result of that new additional quirk allowing him to escape their clutches and his previous one helping him survive the endeavor. However, he lost his memories in the process and could only remember his native language, Spanish, and his hero name Wulf. 
Overgrown
Villain/vigilante Name: Overgrown
Quirk: Plant Manipulation
Can manipulate any pre-existing plant matter or create new vegetation if water and soil is present for the process or he understand the biological makeup of the plant in question. 
Occupation: Pro-hero or eco-terrorist who is tired of humanity from abusing the environment from quirk battles to industries using the land for their own benefits and none others.
That’s all I have for now! I hope this was worth the wait, guys. As well as, inspire ideas for your takes with a DP x BNHA Crossover! 
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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years
Text
Ch. Seventeen
⚠WARNING: Swearing
• ────── ✾ ────── •
For five days Osamu ignores you. Your texts go unanswered, calls are sent to voicemails, meet ups at the café are now solo trips.
You’re beyond upset at this point. If this is his way of needing space, that’s fine. You’d be okay with giving him space - you just need to know if he wants space. Having this awful radio silence between you is driving you mad. What if he’s sick? What if he needs to go to the hospital? He lives alone and his family isn’t close, and he hasn’t mentioned other friends to you before. You’ve talked plenty about Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki - surely he would’ve offered up stories about his friends if he had them, no?
But you also worry that you’ve done something to really offend him. He’s a pretty laid back guy (all things considered) so you must have really pissed him off if he’s resorting to ignoring all forms of communication.
You just need to know. Even if it will be the end of your friendship (something your brain isn’t ready to comprehend, thank you very much) you have to know why Osamu doesn’t want to talk to you.
So you’ve changed plans. You decide to skip afternoon classes and set up camp at the cafe. You knew he visited the cafe at least once a day, and you thought that maybe he was coming at different times to avoid you but you weren’t gonna let that happen so you would change your schedule and ambush him.
It was literally the only idea you could think of and at this point you were desperate.
“Jasmine tea, right?” The barista greets you when you step up to the register.
“Yes please,” you answer, reaching to grab your wallet from your bag.
“Hey, I haven’t seen that one guy who you’d been studying with in awhile. He used to come all the time.” The barista sets down your tea and types at the register. “What was his name, Osamu?”
You nod, trying to swallow your disappointment and pass over money to pay. If the employees here haven’t noticed Osamu coming in then maybe he is sick. And the odds of you coming across him here are slim to none.
You thank the barista and grab a table in a different spot of the cafe. The whole point of this is to change up your routine and try to see if Osamu will stop by. The last thing you want is for him to walk in, see you sitting at the table, and leave. You sit at your table, pull out your notebooks and get settled. Hopefully you can get some studying done while waiting.
A faint bell to indicate a new person coming in rings, and you nearly snap your neck to look in the direction of the front door. But it’s a young woman talking on her cell phone who walks in, not Osamu. You sigh to yourself and open your books.
~~~
The front door bell rings again, and like before you quickly look up. To your dismay, a group of three guys probably close to your age walk into the café and make their way to the register.
You’ve been at the café for 45 minutes and this time it’s the 10th time you’ve been tricked by someone walking in. You feel yourself wilt and look back down at your books, ignoring the stinging in your eyes. This is pointless.
“We’ve checked the campus all morning, and Shin combed the library top to bottom.”
The group of guys waiting in line are standing close enough to your new table that you can just hear what they’re saying. You don’t really eavesdrop on people, but it’s hard when they’re not really trying to keep quiet. And you had given up on your homework ages ago, so you just sit staring at the table while listening to the three friends talk.
“We know that he’s studying here. We should just go up to the registrar’s office and find out where he’s taking classes.” A second voice speaks up.
“Yeah, and how is that going to work?” The first guy was speaking again. “We’re going to waltz onto a campus of a school we don’t go to and what, ask nicely if they can tell us where our friend is? We’ll get the cops called on us for sure.”
“Enough.” The third friend spoke, and you didn’t have to look to know that his voice commanded an air of respect. “We’re here for a few more days, we cannot argue amongst ourselves.”
“Kita, it’s a big campus in a big city. It’s gonna take more than a miracle to find him.”
You look up and around the café, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the three guys who’s conversation you had overheard. The shorter friend takes his coffee from the barista with a nod and moves towards the sugar and creamer station. “Him ignoring our phone calls is making things difficult.” The guy paused again to pour sugar into his coffee. “But it’s his mother’s birthday soon, and I know she would like him to be home for it.” You look away to gaze outside but continue to listen (eavesdrop) to them. You can’t help but think that the shortest guy’s accent sounds very familiar to you.
“To hell with the birthday.” The second guy speaks again, sounding agitated. “Osamu should be home with us, not holed up in this city alone.”
Your head snaps in their direction again. The shorter man with black and white hair is nearly dwarfed by two other men, one dark-skinned and the other with dark hair parted down the center. The shorter man and dark-skinned man are busy making their coffees but the one with dark, parted hair catches your movement. You stare at each other, him having no problem holding your gaze. You watch him pull his phone out of his pocket, tap at the screen (without looking away) and bring the phone up. A quick flash and you realize that this stranger has taken your photograph.
What the hell?!
You start, not expecting the action and look back down abashed. This is what you get for eavesdropping, you dummy. You chance a quick glance and see the shorter man giving the photog a stern look. You look away again but you can’t shut your ears off as you hear them speak again.
“Delete that photo right now Suna.”
“But she was looking right at me!”
“Delete it.”
Footsteps approaching your table make you look up again and your pulse quickens when you realize the shorter man is approaching you. Behind him the dark-skinned man is scolding the other friend, both looking cross with each other. But you can’t focus on them as the short man has finally arrived at your table. To your massive surprise he bows in front of you.
“I sincerely apologize for my friend. I assure you that he deleted the photo he took and he will not be doing anything like that again.”
Hearing his voice you can definitely pick up the same accent Osamu has. His eyes are gentle and kind and he does look remorseful for his friend’s actions. “Uhhh, no worries.” You stammer out, still dazed by everything that is happening.
Before you can think to voice your confusion out loud the man bows again and takes his leave. He doesn’t get a few feet from your table before you're blurting out.
“I heard you talking about Osamu.”
The two friends hear you (as did everyone in the cafe) but they immediately make their way to your table. The dark-skinned man is looking at you with surprise but it’s the other friend’s face who catches you by surprise. He stomps over and leans down to your eye level.
“Where is he?” You’re taken aback by the ferociousness in his voice, and the frantic frazzled look in his eyes. The shorter man steps back to the table and rests a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“We’re friends of Osamu from back home, and we’re having trouble finding him. Are you a friend of his?”
“Uh, yes. Well, I think so.” You weren’t sure of your status now after he’s been ignoring your calls and messages.
“Well which is it?” The other man asks aggressively. You don’t get a chance to answer as you all hear the café door open and you turn to look at the newcomer.
Your heart flutters when you see Osamu walk through the door. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since realizing that you like him more than a friend, and besides relief at seeing him in person after he’s been ignoring you, you feel comfort at seeing him.
You meet his gaze and watch him stop in his steps when he sees you. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but it’s nothing compared to the look on his face when he takes in the full scene. Your heart twists when he pales, and before you can call out to him he takes off.
“Shit!” The man who took your photo takes off, expertly weaving through the small crowd in the café and following Osamu out the door. The second tall man chases after them a second later, having a bit more trouble getting through the other patrons.
The third, shortest friend remains, and you hear him heave a sigh. After a beat he speaks up. “May I join you?”
You start but not immediately. He doesn’t waste time in sitting down in the chair next to yours. Only when he gets situated do you realize what you’ve done - you’re letting someone who supposedly knows Osamu sit with you, someone that makes Osamu look like he’s seen a ghost and run away as fast as he can.
What if this man is dangerous? Did you just endanger Osamu’s life?
“We’re not here to hurt Osamu.” Your companion at your table speaks up. You have no idea how he was able to read your mind, and you feel even more suspicious. “My name is Kita Shinsuke - the one who took your photo is Suna Rintarou, and our other friend is Aran Ojiro. We’re friends of Osamu’s from Hyogo.”
You nod at his introduction, but you’re not buying it. Saying outright that you’re not going to hurt someone is exactly what someone who wants to hurt someone else would say.
Kita must sense your hesitation again and he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, taps the screen and sets it on the table facing you. He nudges it in your direction, and you cautiously pick it up. What you see on the screen nearly makes you drop the phone in surprise.
It’s a group of guys - you immediately recognize this Kita person with his black and white hair, as well as Suna and Aran. You also see Osamu, giving the camera a lazy smile.
And his exact replica, standing next to him with a wider, cockier smile.
His twin.
Besides the initial shock of seeing a picture of Osamu’s twin, you see Osamu looking happy. He’s got his small smirk you’ve only seen a few times, and even then it pales in comparison to the smile he’s wearing in the photo. It’s such a stark difference to the cold, apathetic Osamu you know now that your heart can’t help but twist.
You hand the phone back to Kita silently. He takes it and puts it away.
“How long have you been friends with Osamu?” He asks.
You swallow. “A few weeks.”
Kita nods. “And do you know about Atsumu?”
“Is that his twin?” Kita nods at your question. “Then yes, that’s how we became friends, kind of.”
Kita gives you a confused look (his expression barely changes but you can just detect it.) You clear your throat. “I lost my best friend a few months ago. We realized we both had something in common and we’ve been able to talk about it with each other.”
Surprise flickers across his face before a serious, somber look takes its place. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” you reply automatically. You appreciate his gesture, and you’ve been handling these kinds of interactions with general strangers for months. If, for some godforsaken reason, the passing of Hajime comes up in conversation everyone immediately offers their condolences, you thank them, and then the conversation continues. You’ve long been able to push aside the wave of grief that comes with the briefest of mentions of his passing. You understand that sometimes the stranger you were talking with doesn’t really mean the words they’re saying.
But with this Kita Shinsuke, you feel the sincerity behind it. It only comes from someone who can understand what you’re going through because they’ve gone through it themselves.
“Can I ask how much you know about Osamu and Atsumu?” Kita asks.
You struggle to find an adequate answer, embarrassed by your lack of knowledge about Osamu’s past. He always seemed uncomfortable talking about Atsumu, and you never wanted to push him. Gosh, can you really say you have deep feelings for him when you don’t even know how to answer this simple question?
“I know he came to Sendai for school.” You answer carefully, putting your insecurities away for now. “I think he wanted to get out of Hyogo.”
Kita’s response is a hum. It’s thoughtful, and you can see gears turning behind his head. You wait for him to reply, unsure of what else to say.
“Osamu definitely wanted to get out of Hyogo, and he did come here to attend Sendai University.” Kita confirms. “But what you may not know is that he vanished from Hyogo, without a trace save for the letter he left for his parents to never call him again.”
Kita’s brief explanation feels anything but that. It shocks you to your core, freezing your lungs. Any reply you would have had to it was wiped clean, and you really can’t do anything but sit and stare.
Kita nods. His features soften, and you now see a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I understand his actions. I cannot imagine living in a place with constant painful reminders of his loss.
“But he didn’t give any hint of wanting to leave. He never told anyone his plan. One day we woke up and he was just gone. His parents are heartbroken. They had already lost one son, and now another that leaves no open channel of communication, no desire for any of us to reach him. To them, it feels like they’ve lost both sons.
Your heart clenches painfully. You know Kita isn’t accusing Osamu of anything - you can’t hear any blame in his voice. But you can’t help but feel the need to defend your friend for his actions that are, frankly, self-serving.
Kita goes on. “Aran, Suna and myself have an old schoolmate, one of Osamu’s old friends as well. He recently reached out to tell us that his cousin thought he recognized Osamu here at this campus when he came to play Sendai University’s mens’ basketball team. It was pure dumb luck, and honestly not even a hint of a confirmed lead, but we got a chance to find Osamu. We arrived two days ago and have spent all of our time searching every corner of the campus looking for him.”
You still can’t get over the new information you’ve learned about Osamu. Leaving his small town and the only people he knows with no plans on returning. You can’t help but remember little bits of information gleaned from your conversations with Osamu.
He moved to a new city and got a new phone and new phone number. He doesn’t have any friends or family here in Sendai. How unwilling he was to find a therapist and seek help for unhealthy coping mechanisms.
Now with the added information of knowing Osamu left home without a trace, you’re left with a revelation that sends you reeling.
He’s running away.
Osamu is trying to run away from the trauma of losing his brother. He’s doing his very best to shake off any trace of his past and reinvent himself in a new city. Zero contact with friends or family and no support to help him work through a disturbing life event that shouldn’t happen to anyone. And he’s shoving it all down.
Why? Why in the world would anyone want to do that to themselves? And is this what he’s been doing to you now? Running away from you?
A ringing disrupts your disturbing thoughts and you watch Kita bring his phone up to his ear. “Hello?” Whoever is on the other line must tell him some disappointing news because Kita’s face falls again. “Ok, I’ll meet you at the hotel.” He hands up the phone and sighs.
“Aran and Suna lost Osamu. Not surprisingly, since Osamu was always quick, and he knows the area better than we do.” He stands. “I will leave you to your studying. May I borrow a slip of paper and a pen?”
You wordlessly hand over a scrap piece of paper and pen, letting Kita bend down to write on the table. He hands the items back to you and straightens up. You look at the paper and see his full name and phone number written down.
“You have no obligation to, but if Osamu reaches out to you will you please let me know?”
You think of the messages you’ve sent him and the calls you’ve made - all unanswered. But you can’t bring yourself to tell that to Kita now. ��I’ll try my best.”
“I greatly appreciate it.” Kita bows and makes to leave. But he hesitates and looks back at you. “We’re not here to drag him back to Hyogo against his will. If he wants to stay here in Sendai he can, he’s an adult. I just want him to know that he has people that care about him, people that miss him.”
You watch Kita pause, standing still. He swallows hard and you see his hands ball into fists. Watching Kita compose himself somehow hurts you the most in this entire interaction you’ve had with him.
When he speaks, his voice is strained. “I don’t think he knows that. I think he believes that he’s truly alone.”
Kita nods and takes his leave, leaving you sitting alone at your table in the café.
• ────── ✾ ────── •
A/N: Enter the Hyogo friends! But Osamu doesn't seem too happy to see them....are we gonna find out why? Also a sad Kita is literally the worst thing in the world and it makes me not okay! :')
Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef @badkarma-a
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genevievemd · 3 years
Text
The Newlywed Game: Round 11
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A/N: Not gonna lie, I'm a little excited to answer my own questions lol As always, a huge thank you to our queen of the newlywed game, the icon that brought us Allensey, @jamespotterthefirst! Wedding Wednesday would not exist without you. Also, I best be seeing Allensey answer these, ma'am!
For Both:
1. Where did you go on your second date?
Genevieve: Our patient's art show, although we could count the opera, but I was sad and you were -- Ethan: No. Those were not dates, G. Gen: You asked me out, there for they're dates. Ethan: No, no, no. If we go by this logic, our first date would have been that time you followed me to Derry's and we people watched. Gen: Exactly. Ethan: *pinches the bridge of his nose* Our second date was the drive in theater in Meldon, they were playing grease. You wore your hair like Sandy in the beginning of the movie, it was cute. Gen: Had to be on theme. But let's be honest, we only watched like fifteen minutes of the movie, the rest of the time we made out in your car. Ethan: *smiles wide*
2. What is their pet name for you? Do you have a favorite? Do you have a least favorite?
Ethan: She calls me 'babe' most often, it's not my favorite. Gen: Let me guess, your favorite is chief? Ethan: No, it's not. It's "my love". You don't use it often, but when you do, the look in your eyes... it's my favorite, hands down. Gen: *heart eyes* Ethan uses a variety for me; darling, sweetheart, love, baby on the super rare occasion. Also, G, which didn't start as a pet name, but it's kind of turned into one. He's like one of the few people in the world that call me G, and that makes it special, too. Ethan: Which is your favorite, "baby"? Gen: Rookie, because it didn't come from my name, and it's not the usual pet name. It's just for me. Second favorite is "baby" because it's just *fan's self*. And no least favorite.
3. What is their silliest fear?
Gen: Interns. Ethan: I'm not afraid of interns! Gen: Social interaction? Ethan: Will you -- Gen: *smirks* Ethan: Her silliest fear is the dark. Gen: How is that silly? Lots of people are afraid of the dark. Ethan: Children, maybe. And it's a situational fear, you're completely fine in the dark in our home, but you're petrified of the dark outside. Gen: You can't see what's there! There could be a ghost or a zombie, or a creepy dude coming to kidnap me. Ethan: We live in a city, that's never dark enough for something to jump out of the shadows. Gen: Stop judging me, old man.
4. How often do you go on dates together? Do you think it’s enough or would you like to go out more often?
Gen: Once a week, we have a "date night". More often than not, though, it's just us making dinner and watching a movie or something. But it's a night where we put our phones in the other room and just spend time together. Ethan: We try to go physically out on a date every couple of weeks. Gen: And it's never enough. Ethan: I know, I need to get better at prioritizing our relationship. Gen: No, I meant, like, no matter what it'll never be enough. We could go on a date every night of the week and I'll still feel like it's not enough. You're my person, I wanna be with you all the time. Ethan: *looks at G like she hung the moon* I love you. Gen: I love you.
5. What was the first thing your spouse said after the proposal?
Gen: My name. Ethan: Because you were standing there, unmoving. I was getting concerned. Gen: Like I'd have said anything other than "yes". Besides, I was in a little bit of shock. But after that, I said yes. And then "I love you." And then -- Ethan: I have to call my mom. But that came hours later.
6. If you were forced to marry one of your exes, who would it be?
Ethan: What exactly is the point of this question? Gen: To make you jealous. I'd marry my first boyfriend, Patrick. He's one of the sweetest guys in the world. Ethan: You answered that way too quick. He's the one I met during your second year, correct? The one visiting his sister? Gen: Yes, that was Patrick. Ethan: *grumbles* Gen: *laughs* Your turn. Ethan: No one. I never even considered marriage until you. Gen: Okay, but you're being forced, therefore, you have to pick someone. Harper? Ethan: No, Camila. Gen: Seriously? Ethan: Seriously. Harper and I, we were great and all, but that was situational, convenient. Camila I had rather deep feelings for, and she's an incredible doctor and woman. I'd pick her. Gen: *pouts* Okay, you're right, I don't like this question, it's stupid. Ethan: *laughs then kisses her cheek* Don't worry, love, I'm sure Tobias would steal her from me again.
Bonus Round:
Speaking of exes, describe each of your spouse’s exes using three words only. Go!
Gen: Cam; smart, philanthropic, inspiring. Harper; intelligent, beautiful, iconic. Anna; funny, compassionate, cheerful. I'm only naming those three, because they're your most serious relationships. If I name all the woman you dated for less than two weeks, we'd be here for like another ten minutes. Ethan: I feel insulted. Gen: Your turn. Ethan: Patrick; polite, lack-luster, tall. Jackson; rude, unintelligent, vain. Ryan; narcissistic, vacuous, cowardly, cruel, predatory -- Gen: Three, babe, they said three. Ethan: Fine, moving on. Nate: small-minded, cynical, disorganized. Gen: How is Nate small-minded? He's a doctor, who works at the Mayo Clinic. Ethan: Because he refused to be sympathetic or understanding to your trauma from Ryan. Therefore, he's small-minded. And a whole host of other words. Gen: *giggles* You hate all of my exes. Ethan: Not all of them, Rookie. I don't hate Patrick. Gen: Fine.
That last one was so fun to do. I love over-protective-hates everyone Ethan. Someday, I'll write the fic where he meets Patrick, takes place like right before the attack in book 2.
(tagging separately because that seems to be the only way tags work lately)
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Reluctant Vacation // Charlie Gillespie
Summary: The niece of the infamous Kenny Ortega had its advantages and disadvantages, you received insight on his projects but felt guilty saying no. Kenny seeing the exhaustion pulling you down invites to the set of Julie and the Phantoms where you rediscover your love with the field.
Warning: Swearing and fluff.
 Words 2.2k
A/N: I do take requests. It may take a bit to get to them but I’ll post some.
Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will be through commenting on the posts!
Masterlist
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The sigh came from deep in your chest wanting to drop to the floor for an exhaustion induced nap, but an airport wasn’t the best place. Large sunglasses obscured people from seeing the deep bags under your eyes on the way to the film lot. It was coming full circle, the change different from the frantic schedule you had had recently. When Kenny called you hadn’t hesitated in packing and buying a ticket.
“Miss Y/L/N?” The voice pulled you from your thoughts as a man holding a card with your name displayed. He was of Puerto Rican descendent with a young girl beside him with similar features, “I’m Ricardo. This is my daughter Madison.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m-“
“Y/N Y/L/N.” Madison supplied with a beaming grin on her face having recognized you from your role as Sabrina in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina along with movies.
All you could do was send a fragile smile in response after a long sleepless flight to Canada.
Madison’s eyes saddened at the exhaustion you carried, “I can fangirl later. You looked really tired.”
“Kenny saw and asked me to come over the guise of help, but he knows I need a break. He’s lucky I don’t need to be on set for a few weeks.” You replied, covering a yawn as you found yourself at a car, the walk a blur.
Unintentionally you found yourself asleep in the backseat the moment you settled back there for the drive. You had filmed in Vancouver before, so it wasn’t a huge deal, and the Reyes’ duo didn’t have the heart to wake you up.
“We’re here,” Madison whispered with the back-car door opened. Your eyelids fluttering at her voice, giving Madison a closer look at your face.
Walking on set, you saw Kenny giving one of his pep talks before he cut himself off at the sight of you. The actors surrounding him furrowed their brows as the legendary director power walked to a person concealed behind Mads.
“Sweetheart.” Kenny beamed, pulling his niece in for a hug before leaning back to scan her features, “You need a nap.”
“I need to meet your new cast.” You snickered stepping around the man to the three actors he had abandoned to see you. You found amusement in their widening eyes at the sight of the Y/N walking to them.
“Oh, my shit.” Owen gasped freaking out as the actress co-starring in the new Spider-Man trilogy came closer.
Last night Owen, Charlie and Jeremy had hosted a movie night in the rented apartment the first two rented. They had quickly made their way through Captain America: Civil War before watching the following movies with Spider-Man. You had a cameo in Captain America: Civil War before becoming a star in Homecoming and Far From Home.
“We manifested her.” Charlie hissed frantically fixing his set costume growing a blush at the smile you wore. He could feel the hair stylist on standby glaring at his tousled locks.
The girl in question came to a stop before the three guys portraying the phantoms of the show in the second season. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expressions each one of them had.
“Hello.” You greeted flattered when the tall blonde one turned a blossom pink at the voice of an angel. Charlie and Owen had developed celebrity crushes on you.
In revenge, Tori, a returning choreographer and background character, saw Charlie’s expression along with a familiar girl. After filming season one ended the previous year you had stopped by during the filming process of CAOS to catch up with Kenny. Tori had been there and you two became friends.
“Hey!” Tori grinned, pulling you into a hug, “These three binged your MCU movies last night, and Charlie’s wallpaper is you.”
“Tori!”
“This is what you get for telling Booboo about the poster!” Tori called to the Canadian boy jogging out his area. Charlie’s cheek darkened more than Owen’s as your smile grew bigger.
“No worries Ghost. Luke definitely my favourite character and gotta say you should have been on Charmed more than two episodes.” You supplied walking backwards to Kenny once more yearning for a night’s rest after the flight.
“Holy shit.” Charlie choked smacking Jeremy’s arm repeatedly, “She knows me. Oh, oh, OH. She’s seen me-“
 “-Getting it on for a scene.” Jeremy snickered as his friend grew more and more flustered, “That was tame compared to her and Tom going at it.”
Charlie’s face dropped being reminded of the explicit scene you had done with Tom Holland in the movie that came out near the end of 2020. The Devil All the Time was the only film out of the MCU you had done with Tom. You had played the promiscuous daughter of a devout, loyal churchgoer and close friend of the preacher.
“Didn’t they date for a few months?” Owen questioned thinking back to the media mayhem during the virtual press for the film.
Owen was correct with the chemistry between you and Tom it was natural you would do interviews together via shared video chats. Charlie watched every single one that came out with interest. He hadn’t even expected the film to do so dark and explicit, but you had a natural talent.
“English, handsome, actor-“ Charlie started to list off on the English actor with a far more extensive list of credits. Charlie felt like a Canadian child in the city of Los Angeles compared to your leading man.
“-runs a charity with his family.” Jeremy continued raising one eyebrow, “At least he isn’t tall. You’d be fully screwed.”
Charlie shoved his teasing friends away with a smirk of his own as the trio continued on to the film. Charlie put his feelings on the back burner to focus on the storyline and emotions of the scene.
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“Spider-Man Three baby!” The English accent shouted from the phone with only an ocean separating the two actors. Tom hadn’t even greeted you before screaming at the news you both received; despite the scripts from a few weeks prior the sequel had fully been greenlighted
Your head tossed back at the childlike glee on the older adult, clearly displaying the two years really mean he was two years old. After meeting on the set of Civil War along with Harrison, you had become friends. Followed with the following MCU appearances, it had been a surprise to be cast in Devil All the Time.
“Insane.” You started making your way through the set to where Kenny had texted you from. It was closing to the end of your vacation.
In the few weeks, you had reconnected with Tori on her breaks along with becoming good friends with the cast members. Something clicked between you and the core four of the show even if Madison sometimes still got starstruck.
“Did you read the script?” Tom questioned quirking his infamous eyebrow his fans wholly adored. You found it amusing, to be honest, that every character he portrayed had the same eyebrow.
“Not fully. I’m surrounded by people, and unlike you, I prefer not to jeopardize my career with marvel.” You teased glancing up as Charlie and Owen made their way over, “I’ll be flying out in a few days for filming.”
Tom nodded his head, “I got get back. Jacob and Haz are visiting. Remember to film the announcement! Bye Love!”
You gave a thumbs up before Tom ended the facetime glancing up at the duo who each raised their eyebrows. Charlie’s mask nearly breaking at Tom’s goodbye. Charlie could feel the cover of his feelings falling more and more each day.
“Announcement?” Owen questioned, slipping his jacket on over his shoulders having changed from his Alex outfit.
“Nothing.” You waved it off, starting to walk backwards with a smile that Charlie thought made your eyes shine brighter than stars.
The boys followed behind on the walk to the house Jeremy and Carolynn had decided to rent during filming. You had been crashing there as Jeremy didn’t want Carolynn to be alone with his filming schedule. It also gave the perfect place for your plan. Last few nights you had binged the marvel movies again ending with Far From Home.
The living room was decked out by Carolynn with your help from earlier as she was the only know that knew. Everyone settled in the living room with Mr Reyes there as well who had quickly become a father figure to you.
“So, I wanted everyone here for a reason. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been reading a script and I have something to open.” You started thanking Jeremy as he brought in the package, he had no clue of the contents, “Now nobody says any spoilers for season two.”
You turned on the camera Paul Becker had supplied with a small smile having already filmed the opening sequence. You sat on the floor in the camera shot, opening the big box to hand out the smaller boxes to your friends. Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, Madison, Savannah, Booboo and every else glanced at the non-descript red box.
“Open them.” You urged grinning as the room went silent except for the tape ripping off the packages.
In each individual box was marvel themed candy, a plushie of Spider-Man along with signed cards from the Avengers actors and the MCU Spider-Man cast. At the very bottom, all it said was to look up at you. Instead of facing them with their looks of shock, you addressed the camera.
“Tom and I are so incredibly happy to announce that Spider-Man 3 is in the beginning process of filming.” You beamed at the camera listening to the intense noise of your friends screaming, “we can’t reveal anything else about the film, but the script is immaculate as usual. You’ll get to see Harper on the screen once more.”
“WHAT!” The collective scream behind you came as you waited a second before ending the video. You’d have to replay it before sending to marvel for the finishing touches with Tom’s version and then you could post it on Instagram.
“Surprise!” You spoke to the group behind you all in states of excitement, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to tell you guys! I got the script a few days before I came.”
“Holy shit.” Owen spoke, laughing at he shook his head, “You managed to get autographs from fucking Iron Man himself.”
“I got connections.” You snorted meeting the gaze of Charlie, “Nah, Downey’s kids came for a visit, and I kept them company. Downey offered to do anything, and I took the favour.”
The surprise wore off as the group mingled, but Charlie’s eyes stayed pinned to your form as you sent a message to Tom. Locking your phone to noticed his eyes.
“Hey Charlie.” You smiled, sitting on the couch next to him. His expressive eyes showing a silver screen of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher.
The corner of his mouth tilted up in response to the way his name rolled off your tongue, sending his heart stuttering. A cold sweat appearing when you grasped his hand in yours in a confident manner.
“So, you leave soon?” Charlie murmured moving closer to hear you among the chatter of the group. Your lips turned down for a split second as you felt the sadness of leaving.
It was refreshing to be on set without the demands of makeup, costumes, filming and choreography. To see the action and magic but not be part of it was a definite change you had needed desperately. But to leave Charlie hurt.
“My call time is in three days. Need to get ready to bring Harper Osbourne back to the big screen.” You replied, loosening your grip on his hand, “I don’t really want to go back. I’m gonna miss you…and everyone else of course.”
Unaware to the eyes watching in anticipation you and Charlie conversed further on the upcoming months. To the great disappointment of the house began to clear out, Owen for an early call time. Savannah was meeting with her brother, and Mr Reyes was taking Madison home.
It left Jeremy and Carolynn to retire to their bedroom while you stayed on the couch with Charlie for longer. The emotions building from the prior weeks, bubbling to the surface. Hearts thudding in their chest Charlie leaned in glancing at your lips; yours glancing at his.
Who moved first couldn’t be known, but as your lips brushed together just barely you felt grounded and peaceful. If he leaned closer, you wonder what the kiss would make you feel.
“I’d like to kiss you.” Charlie murmured startled at the confidence he had gained, “But before I do. Do you have something with Tom?”
“Other than onscreen chemistry? Absolutely nothing.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper to the boy that had become so much more than some actor.
He was Charlie. The goofy boy that put a smile on anyone’s face with an impromptu concert in the middle of a crowded street. He lived life to the fullest without any regrets. He was passionate about his work, music and the environment.
Those thoughts evaporated when lips met another pair of lips in what might be described as the best kiss ever. No fireworks felt as Wattpad would say, but instead, it was the heady warmth of hot chocolate on a cold day; a warm shower after a long stressful day. It was home and perfect.
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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years
Text
Sunny day (Renjun x reader)
a/n : quick oneshot because I wanted to enjoy the nice sunny weather more but can’t.. so here’s a oneshot for you.
Warning : ending is suggestive but you can read until the end of the fluff part. 
Comfort, fluff, flirt (?), suggestive ending! 
side character : Jaemin, Dream is frat boys and Renjun is your boyfriend.
enjoy!
The mundane elevator rises as you lean your heavy shoulder to the wall and taking a breather from the long walk you had from your last class. It’s almost the weekends and you’re motivated to finish your homework and chapter readings before the weekend. Why? Well so you can sleep through Saturday and Sunday! You glance when the elevator dings and the door slowly opens.
You nod your head to the other passenger riding the lift with you and slowly dragging your heavy legs to your room. You smile upon seeing your tidy room which you strictly tried to keep tidy!
With a rush you take off your shoes, hang your jacket and toss your bag to one of the chairs available. You wash your hands and skip to change your tight pants into loose comfortable ones. A sigh leaves your lips when you squint to the window that lets in the bright spring sun into your room. What a beautiful day to be outside yet here you are, inside your room already turning on your laptop because you have to finish works. Not that you don’t want to enjoy the sun, no it’s because you know if youre out there you’ll probably be laying around on the grass toasting your body and forgetting time and work. So, for your goodness you stay inside.
Before you can open your task, a ring comes to your phone. Curious you pick it up and frown when you notice it’s your boyfriend calling. Weird? He said he will be busy today in the lab for his final research, he even told you to not call or text him for he wont have the time to reply.
“Yes?” you pick up the call with a question.
“Oh hey babe, just wanna know where are you right now?” his voice sounds calm from the other side.
You take a seat and lean back “Um in my room? Why? Do you need anything?”
He chuckles “Can’t I call my baby? The weather is pretty outside, why are you in your room?”
You sigh “Because Renjun, two of my professors decided to give me 2 chapters worth of quizzes and homework, in the beginning of the term! God bless me.” You laugh dryly in the end and Renjun just laugh out loud on your suffering.
“Well, welcome to hell. Anyways, I say you try to do your work but make sure you’re feeling this warm weather.” He reminds you again to at least enjoy the sun and not stress or tire yourself out.
You nod “Okay boss. Aren’t you busy? You told me today not to call you but here you are asking me to enjoy the sun.”
He suddenly switches to video call and you can see him sitting on the grass looking so happy with his cheeks Sunkissed. You chew on your lips, annoyed and jealous.
“What? You said you were busy!” you pout.
He giggles “I am, I just take a break here. It’s frustrating in the lab, Jaemin had gone mad.” He whispers though Jaemin looks just fine in the frame next to Renjun.
“Hey Jaem!” you greet when the other man takes a glance to the commotion coming from Renjun’s screen. He only smiles and says hi before sleeping on the grass.
“You could’ve told me  earlier and we can enjoy the sun together.” You look sad, Renjun feels guilty now.
“Oh sorry, it was impulsive. I am sorry, look I’ll take you out on another sunny day. Promise, just let me also finish my lab today and I’ll see you around.” He blows you a kiss and you force a small smile.
“Come Jaem! Let’s finish today’s work and go home.” Renjun says before you say goodbye and turn the call off.
To say that you’re not in the mood to study now is an understatement. You want to go out but you’re also too lazy to change and Renjun’s lab is too far from your dorm. Jaemin had to drive for the sake of their time and legs.
After one glass of water and an encouraging message from Renjun, you start to stick your nose to the ebook and powerpoints.
Three hours pass by and your alarm rings, it’s seven already, time for dinner. Nicely you turn your computer to sleep and before you can decide what to eat, there’s a knock on your door. Without much care you open the door only to see your boyfriend already in front of you with a paper bag on his right hand and a big smile on his face.
“Busy?” he asks as he peaks over your shoulder to see if you have any guest.
You close your door and stand in the hallway with him “What are you doing here? How can you come here?” you look around confused because Renjun did not have the access card to your building.
He grins “I have my way, have you eaten dinner?” he comes back to his first question to which you shake your head “Nope.”
He smiles and takes your hand ‘Great! Lock your door and we’ll eat together” he hurries you “Faster while the sun is still up”
You smile as you take your key and phone plus access card and grab his hand to go down. Once downstairs, he chooses the sunny spot where you can sit with him on a mattress he brought.
“Did you prepare this?” your eyes twinkle when you see the foods he takes out from the bag.
On top of the red and white chequered picnic mat, there’s your favourite comfort food.
Renjun just smile “No, I bought this on the way here thanks to the dining hall and Jaemin’s urgent picnic mat in his car. I seriously don’t know why he has this picnic mat ready, but it’s handy.” He pops open a sparkling apple drink you both like and toast it with you.
“Cheer up honey, you’re going to be alright. We’ll finish your homework. I can stay with you tonight.” He ruffles your hair when you’re enjoying your meal
You smile and nod “Okay, I still have your clothes from last time.”
He pinches your cheek “Cute, okay I’ll stay here then. The boys won’t mind, they’d probably wont notice I am not there.”
You feel sorry but at the same time laugh at him coz that Is so true. There’s no way Dream will realize he’s not there. They’re too busy with ensuring no one burns their hands or the house down.
You watch Renjun from the side, the young man is busy eating his food too. Judging by how he eats, you guess he skipped lunch with Jaemin earlier. Guess their research was that important. Before Renjun can catch you gawking at him, you toss your head away and control the heartbeat that’s thumping in your ribcage.
Why are you nervous? He’s just Renjun your boyfriend. But why can you feel this happy and glad to have him? Like you’re the luckiest person ever?
Maybe you really are the luckiest one to have Renjun. You continue to finish your food and drink.
The weather really feels great today, your day also turns bright just because Renjun decides to come and visit you for small picnic dinner under the sun. You’re glad over simple things like this and you’re always surprised Renjun can never fail to make you feel happy again. He indeed is your ray of sunshine and happiness source.
“Renjun-ah,” you whisper in his ear and he turns his head to face you.
Before he can pull his head back from the close distant, you quickly latch your lips into his and he pull your neck closer to him “Thank you,” you whisper to his lips before crashing in to another kiss where you taste his plumps lips.
Renjun feels butterflies filling his stomach again, it’s not your first kiss but it definitely feels the best. Is it because you’re this happy and he is also happy he made you enjoy the sun for a while or is it because he loves you more and more after seeing more colors of you?
Whatever that is, he’s glad he made this decision and stay with you afterwards.
“So, what homework is this? Can I help?” Renjun walks by your side hand in hand.
You giggle “Sadly it’s not your thing, I got this Renjun. You just have to be my moral support.” You press a kiss to his cheek and he blushes “I can do that.”
“Is your research going well?” it’s your turn now to ask him. He nods “I just need one more test subject.”
You raise your brow “What for?”
He smirks “To test the side effect of my stress of doing this project.”
You soff “You mean you want me right?” you cross your arm over your chest and Renjun clicks his tongue “Do I sound that clear?”
You stick your tongue out and pretend to think “Sort of, but I am booked for my works tonight. Go use the bathroom” you playfully wink and kiss his neck before sitting down on your computer and acting like nothing’s wrong as you continue where you left off.
There on the corner of your eyes you can see Renjun gritting his teeth when you tease him and leave semi-hard.
“Woah you got triggered that easily? Must really be from your hours of lab with Jaemin.” You chuckle and stop when Renjun appears with a chair next to you. You don’t like how calm he looks and you don’t like how his face is so calm as he sits calmly on your right and with his eyes glued to the screen his hand is already roaming around your body tracing arbitrary lines, ghosting your skin with his callouses fingers.
“Now we’ll see who ends up laughing.”  He kisses your ear and breathes into it making you shiver and hard to focus.
end
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shutupanakin · 3 years
Text
Wasting Your Time ch.1
“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.
The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”
Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?
Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.
click click click click click click click click—
...
or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.
crossposted on ao3 here
Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.
Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.
Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.
Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.
Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.
Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.
Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.
Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.
Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.
Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.
He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.
Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.
Tubbo at 11:30 pm
Toommy
Tubbo at 11:30 pm
do u wanna play Terraria
His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.
A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.
"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.
For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.
“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.
The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”
Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?
Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.
click click click click click click click click—
The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”
Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”
The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”
Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”
The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”
Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”
“Then you know Shakespeare?”
Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”
His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”
Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”
He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”
Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”
The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”
Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”
“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.
Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”
Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.
Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—
Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.
No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.
“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”
Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”
The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”
“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.
“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”
“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.
“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.
Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.
Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”
Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”
Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”
“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”
Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”
Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”
Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”
“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”
“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”
“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”
“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.
“Because you were going to jump?”
“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“
“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”
Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”
“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.
“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”
Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”
Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”
“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.
Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.
Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”
“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”
They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.
JACK OF ALL TRADES
That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.
“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.
“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
“How?”
Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”
Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”
Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.
He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.
Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.
“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.
“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”
Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.
Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.
He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”
“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.
Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.
“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.
“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”
“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.
“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”
“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”
“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.
Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.
Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.
Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.
“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.
“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“
“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.
“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”
Tommy considered it. “Same time?”
Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.
They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.
This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.
“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”
“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.
“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”
“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.
“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”
“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”
Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.
Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.
“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”
Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.
“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.
Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”
“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.
Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.
His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—
Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.
Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.
Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!
He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.
He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.
Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.
He really should've put money on it, though.
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
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Nifa Strikes Back
Levi hates St. Valentine’s Day with burning passion. The only thing that makes this holiday somewhat bearable to him is a little tradition he shares with his best friend Hange. But after hearing the news that Hange is going to skip the years-long ritual to go on a date with someone else, Levi is faced with conflicting and severely confusing feelings. 
thanks @innocent-ghost-demon for the idea! (i’m sorry it took me so long to actually write it lmao)
In Levi's personal opinion, St. Valentine's Day was the worst holiday of them all. It was meaningless and explorative and it served no other purpose than to fill the pockets of flowers and chocolate sellers. Levi hated it with burning passion, getting groceries in the weeks leading to the forsaken holiday was the cruelest torture, as he was immensely annoyed by big pink hearts and cute figurines with naked babies on display. It was almost impossible for him not to gag.
The only thing that quelled his hatred towards this day was a small tradition he shared with his best friend Hange. It had started years ago, when they were still in college. Hange's boyfriend had dumped her - she was heartbroken and upset, while Levi was furious and ready to go, find that bastard and beat the shit out of him for making Hange cry. Naturally, as college students, they knew only one way to deal with that kind of complicated feelings - get absolutely wasted at the local bar. Next morning they woke up with the worst hangovers of their lives and vowed to never repeat the same mistake.
But next year, Hange was rejected by a girl she wanted to ask on a date, and, like a good friend he was, Levi once again offered his shoulder for Hange to cry on. And once again they've found themselves clinging to each other as they shakily stumbled towards their dorm.
They got drunk that year again. And that's what they've been doing every year after that.
It was the only thing that got Levi through the awful holiday. Because of that, he was actually looking forward to it.
***
"Hey, four-eyes," Levi looked over the wall that separated their cubicles, throwing a small piece of paper to get Hange's attention. "Is your place as messy as usual? Or have you cleaned it for the occasion?"
"Huh?" Hange raised her eyes from a screen, pushing the glasses up her nose. "What do you mean?"
Another paper was thrown at Hange. This one landed on her lap.
"The shitty holiday, Hange. It's this weekend. So are we going to your place of mine?"
"Oh," Hange raised her hand, rubbing her neck. "About that..."
Levi frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Did he hear a twinge of hesitation in Hange's voice? That was unusual. What could it mean?
"I can't go this year."
His frown turned into a scowl. "Why the fuck not?"
"I have a date."
Levi blinked. Hange's words... surprised him. And more than that, his own reaction surprised him. He felt displeased, but not just that. He was angry, he was disappointed. He was sad?
"You're going on a date?" he asked, cursing the weakness that colored his voice. What was going on with him?
"Yeah, sorry," Hange gave him an apologetic smile. "With all this work, I forgot to tell you about it."
"That's fine," he answered, even though it wasn't fine. Hange was going on a date, and Levi wasn't fine with it. Why wasn't he? Hange was his best friend, he was supposed to feel happy for her, right? Did it mean that he was a bad friend?
No, Levi decided. He wasn't a bad friend, he was a good one. He was worried about Hange, he had seen her get hurt by someone else, and he simply didn't wish to repeat the experience.
"Who is your date?"
Was it someone from the office, he wondered. If it was their co-worker, that'd be good, Levi could keep an eye on them then. But what if they start dating? Would Hange stop spending her lunch-breaks with him? Would she go and bother someone else if she's bored? Would she pay less attention to him?
Levi shot that train of thought as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t like thinking about it. It made him feel weird. It made him upset.
"It's Nifa's cousin, she set us up. I don't know the guy yet," Hange shrugged. "But if he's at least half as cute as Nifa, then it's worth a shot, eh?"
She looked at him then, tilting her head and smiling. It was Levi's cue to congratulate her and wish her luck. Or express his pity towards the guy. Instead there was an unpleasant, ugly feeling inside him. Hange broke their years-long tradition. To go on a date. With someone else.
And it pissed him off.
"Levi?" Hange reached out to him, grasping the sleeve of his jacket with her fingers. "Are you alright? You look a bit weird. Are you upset that we won't be hanging out this year? I'm sorry about that, I'll make it up to you."
"You don't have to," he grunted, shaking Hange's hand off. He turned around, feeling the acute need to leave. The concern on Hange’s face was annoying him. "Have fun on your date and don't worry about me. I wasn't looking forward to our get-together anyway."
*** It took Levi two days to admit his own weakness.
He promised to himself to ignore Hange. To forget about her stupid date and stupid feelings it had provoked in him.
But then he saw Nifa alone in the hallway and he just had to ask.
He approached the girl, stopping just behind her shoulder. "Your cousin," his rough, low voice made Nifa jump. She didn't hear him walk up to her. "Is he a good man?"
Despite a scare Levi just gave her, Nifa's lips lifted into a smug smirk. She looked at Levi, observing him closely. His face was as blank as always, but his shoulders were uncharacteristically tight and his eyes showed even more annoyance than usual.
Her plan was working.
"Cousin Greg?" Nifa twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "He's great! I think Hange would get along with him!"
Cousin Greg wasn't that great actually. In fact, he was quite boring and very annoying. But Nifa wanted to help her superiors admit their feelings for each other and Greg owed her a favor after that time when she had covered for him during the grannies' birthday. Hange didn't have to like him. In fact, if she starts liking him, it'd destroy all of Nifa's plans.
Hange didn't have to like Greg. And Levi didn't have to like the fact that Hange was going on a date with him.
Evidently, the most important part of her plan already proved to be a success.
"He won't hurt four-eyes, right?" Levi asked, a shadow of worry passing through his eyes.
"He won't," Nifa promised with a serious face. Inside, however, she could barely contain herself. Levi was so concerned! It was so cute! Nifa needed to share these news with someone, and quick.
"Alright," Levi pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thanks." He added before walking away, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.
As she watched him go, Nifa's heart constricted painfully. Levi looked so miserable, just like a kicked puppy. She actually felt bad for him.
It was for his own good, she had to remind herself. She was doing him a favor. Levi, no, Hange too - both of them - will later thank her for this. She was doing a right thing.
Nifa repeated these words a couple of times and then rushed over to the break room, where she knew she would most surely find Moblit. Her best friend would be thrilled to hear about her success. 
*** He wasn't brooding, he told himself as he threw another disgustingly sweet candy in his mouth.
He wasn't sulking, Levi thought, as he put the glass of wine to his lips. It was awful. He had been drinking this brand of wine for years, but he never noticed how mawkish it was. Hange’s taste in wine was as horrible as her taste in romantic partners.
He didn't care about Hange and her stupid date, Levi tried to convince himself, paying only half of his attention to the movie.
On his TV screen Harry ran away from Sally after their first night together, and Levi scoffed at his stupidity. It was obvious they're in love with each other, why couldn’t they just admit it? They were both idiots and this movie was stupid, Levi decided. Why Hange liked it so much was beyond him.
***
Harry and Sally started arguing at the wedding, when Levi's phone started ringing. He made no move to get up and pick it. It couldn't be Hange calling, because she was on a date. And if that was Erwin, informing him of some emergency at work, he could kindly go and fuck himself. It was Levi's day-off and he was allowed to be as miserable as he wanted in the coziness of his apartment.
After a few seconds his phone fell silent, but before Levi could sigh with relief and continue watching the movie, he heard a few pings that announced that he had received a couple of messages. Erwin wasn't one for texting, and that got Levi wondering who was trying to get into contact with him.
Was it Petra, inviting him to a bar with others from their office?
Or, maybe, that was Yeager or any of his friends, wishing him a happy holiday?
Either way, Levi decided to ignore the messages too. If it was Petra, she'd understand his desire to be left alone. And if the messages were from any of their interns, then Levi most certainly didn't want to deal with that. It was bad enough they'd given him chocolate at work. It made him feel like he was a high school teacher, not a partner of the law firm.
He shouldn’t support this kind of behavior, Levi decided and returned his attention to the movie. 
*** Levi was halfway through a bottle of wine and Harry was ready to confess to Sally.
Fucking finally, he thought, pouring himself more wine. What kind of idiots waste twelve years denying the feelings they have for each other? Just when Harry was going to say those three little words, someone knocked on Levi's front door. With glass of wine still lifted to his lips, Levi paused the movie and stared at the door, wondering who could be fearless enough to visit him at ten pm.
As he continued to sit and ponder on it, the initially soft knocks turned into vicious bangs.
Cursing at the impatient idiot, Levi put the glass down and got to his feet, marching to the door with a glare on his face.
He threw the door open and— froze, blinking in surprise.
Hange stood on a threshold, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and wearing a wide grin on her lips.
"Will you be my Valentine?"
Levi bit his cheek to keep himself from blurting out 'yes'.
"What happened to your other one?" he asked instead, putting on a mask of cold indifference.
"Ah," she ruffled her hair. "He was actually boring as hell. Not even half as cute as Nifa," she shrugged. "I guess she's the sole owner of all adorable genes in their family."
Levi scoffed, plucking his lips. He would not give Hange the satisfaction of laughing at her lame joke. "Your date turned out to be a moron, so what? You've decided to come and bother me?"
"Yeah? Would you let me in or not?"
Levi knew he could put up a fight. He could tell Hange how annoying and inconsiderate she was. But he also knew that it would result in absolutely nothing. Hange would still get what she wants. He would still let her get what she wants. Because in all the years of their friendship he hadn't learned how to say no to her.
So with an irritated tsk and a shake of his head, Levi took a step back, allowing Hange to come inside.
"Did you bring something, except wine?" he asked while Hange was busy taking off her shoes.
"Yes!" Hange passed him her handbag.
Levi opened, finding chocolate inside. Lots of chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.
"Four-eyes. Did you rob the candy shop?" he inquired dryly.
"No!" Hange snickered. "These are gifts."
Levi had received chocolate too. His collection wasn't quite as vast as Hange's, though.
"Are all of these from brats?"
"Some are from my team. Where's your chocolate, by the way? If I received so many, I can't even imagine how much you got."
"It seems like this year you're more popular than me," Levi pointed at only a couple of box of chocolates on his coffee table.
Hange's face fell after his words. She even opened her mouth, probably with the intent to apologize or, god forbid, comfort him. Levi scowled, silently telling Hange the misplaced pity to herself. He didn't really care about such trivial matters.
And he was more than happy to find out how well-loved Hange was. She deserved nothing less than that after all.
"Don't just stand there," he snapped, when Hange continued to stare at him without saying anything or even moving.
Hange lifted the corners of her lips and hurried after Levi to the living room.
"Oh!" as soon as she saw what was on the TV screen, she clasped her hands in delight. "When Harry Meets Sally! I love this movie!"
I know, Levi almost said.
"And it's one of my favorite scenes!" Hange continued to gash. She plopped down on Levi's sofa with a wide grin.
However, as she took a closer look on a coffee table, her excitement diminished considerably.
"Two glasses?" she mumbled, frowning in confusion. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"No, it's just..."
A habit, Levi realized. He put two glasses simply out of habit. He was so used to drinking with Hange that he had taken two glasses without even thinking.
"It's nothing," he finished awkwardly. "Let's watch the movie."
Hange stared him for a second, her eyes wary. But then she snapped out of it and a smile returned to her lips. She waited until Levi took his place on a sofa and then put her head on his thigh.
"Must you always do it?" Levi complained without making a single move to change their position. "I'm not a piece of furniture, you know."
"Just put on a movie, Levi," Hange mumbled, too used to his constant bitching to have any kind of reaction to it.
"So bossy," he huffed, but took the remote in his hands and resumed the movie.
On a screen, Harry was confessing to Sally.
"It's kinda bizarre, don't you think?" Hange asked. "They knew each other for so long and yet they've realized their true feelings only years after."
"It's a movie, Hange."
"So you think it's unrealistic?" she lifted her head to stare at him. "That two people can be close friends for years and continue to be blind, refusing to see how much they need each other?"
"I think you have to be unbelievably dense to not realize that you're in love with your best friend."
Hange giggled, and the quiet sound was like music to Levi's ears. "Yeah, maybe, you're right. They're really dense."
"Idiots," Levi agreed, laying a hand on her shoulder and pulling her closer.
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musette22 · 3 years
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Drunk in Boston
Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: A week or so ago, I saw this post. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I decided to write a ficlet, a little Evanstan AU. It’s a bit late maybe, since Christmas has already been and gone, but it’s still technically the holidays so just indulge me? :p 
Also, I hit 3k followers this week, so this is also a sort of thank you to all you amazing, wonderful, beautiful people for getting me here. Love you all as much as I love these boys as much as they love each other 💘 Hope you enjoy!
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It’s 3 p.m. on 17 December, and Chris is a little bit drunk. Maybe even a lotta bit.
In his defense, he is currently in Boston for a bachelor party and they did just do a tour of the Samuel Adams Brewery. It’s not like he makes a habit of daytime drinking. Not this much, anyway.
Chris stumbles out of the bar that’s attached to the brewery, surrounded by a dozen or so old school friends, all of whom are in a similar state of inebriation, when they pass the gift shop and a familiar image catches his eye. Chris stops in his tracks. On closer inspection, what he saw turns out to be a photo, displayed in a stand outside the shop, of a park in Concord near where Chris grew up.
No, not a photo.
A postcard.
He plucks the card from the stand, swaying on his feet a little as he peers at it. In the image, the park is covered in snow, much like it would be right now, and stamped across it in a red, gothic font are the words ‘Happy Holidays’.
Instantly, Chris is hit by a wave of nostalgia. No doubt the feeling is heightened by the alcohol – he always tends to get a little sentimental when he’s drunk – but it’s not just that. It’s also the fact that Chris and his friends have been reminiscing about the good old days all afternoon as well as the sudden, depressing realization that despite all he’s achieved in the past decade or so, his happiest memories are probably those of childhood Christmases spent in Concord.
These days, Chris lives in on the West Coast. He’s kind of a superstar now, after all, and superstars live in LA – everybody knows that. Chris doesn’t usually let himself dwell too much on how lonely he is there, or how he misses the comforting accents and the real winters of the East Coast. Tonight, though, whether because of the booze in his system or the ghosts of Christmas past, he allows himself to feel the stab of homesickness.
Without conscious input from his brain, Chris finds himself buying the postcard. When the cashier asks him if he’ll be needing he stamp, too, he hesitates. “Yeah, why not,” he decides, on a whim. It’s a Christmas card, after all, and Christmas cards are supposed to be sent.
There’s just one slight issue with his plan, Chris realizes as soon as he puts the borrowed pen to the card.
He’ll need an address to send the card to.
Frowning, he taps the pen against the counter, thinking as hard as his beer-addled brain will allow him, but the only address he can think of off the top of his head is that of his childhood home, back in Concord. But… that would be weird, right? He has no idea who’s been living there, since his parents sold the house after the divorce. Then again, Chris tells himself, this could be his good Christmas deed. Sending a postcard to a total stranger just to wish them happy holidays, that’s totally in the Christmas spirit, isn’t it?
With a decisive nod of his head, Chris puts his pen to paper and starts to write. It’s just a few lines, because there’s only so much you can say to a total stranger, but when he signs off with his initials, he feels good about it. He asks the cashier for the nearest post box, which happens to be just outside the building, so he thanks the guy and heads outside.
Pulling his pea coat tighter around him against the glacial December air, Chris spares the card one last look, and drops into the post box. It feels significant, somehow.
He doesn’t get time to dwell on it though, because the moment his friends spot him, he’s immediately and enthusiastically subsumed back into the group and dragged on to the next boozy destination.
Three drinks on, Chris has forgotten all about the postcard.
***
On the morning of 18 December, Sebastian Stan opens his postbox to find a postcard with a photo of the park near his house on the front, and a hastily scribbled message on the back:
Hey,
I used to live in your house.
I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know.
Happy Holidays,
C.E.
Even after re-reading the message three times, Sebastian is none the wiser as to who sent it.
It makes sense other people used to live in the house Sebastian’s been renting, but unsurprisingly, he has no clue who they were. It was only last year that he’d decided to relocate from New York to Concord, craving a change of pace and more peace and quiet than the Big Apple had been able to offer. He’d visited Concord on a research trip for his third novel the year before and had immediately taken a liking to it. So when, after asking his estate agent to put out some feelers in the area, the guy had found him this beautiful place to rent within a day, Sebastian had taken it as a sign.
It’s a big old house – more appropriate for a family than a man living alone, perhaps – but Sebastian can afford it, and it has a lived-in vibe that makes it feel intimate, somehow. Its location on the edge of a large park, peaceful apart from the joggers and young families that frequent it, suits his needs perfectly, too. Despite being a successful author, Sebastian prefers to keep himself to himself. He’s not one for ostentatious book tours or photoshoots, doesn’t believe in social media beyond its promotional potential, and he’s found that he blends in perfectly in this picturesque little town.
In addition to being a private person, however, Sebastian is an inherently curious one.
It’s why he became a writer in the first place, and it’s also why the random, slightly mysterious postcard instantly fascinates him. Someone who decides to send a Christmas card to the stranger living in their childhood home has got to be an interesting person, Sebastian figures.
Unable to resist the temptation, he finds the landlord’s number and presses call.
“The initials C.E.?”
“C.E., that’s right,” Sebastian repeats patiently. “I received a postcard from someone with those initials who said they used to live in this house and wished me Happy Holidays. I’d like to thank them for the card, maybe tell them they’re free to come by the house anytime, if that’s something they’d like.”
“Well,” the landlord says, clear hesitation in his tone. “I wouldn’t usually give out this kind of information, especially not about this particular person. But seeing as he approached you first, I guess it should be alright…”
Chris Evans.
Famous Hollywood actor Chris Evans used to live in Sebastian’s house. The house he’s renting. Whatever.
The point is, Chris Evans sent him a postcard. Sebastian would be lying if he said that knowledge didn’t make his heart beat a little faster. He isn’t one to get star-struck, normally, knowing full well the rich and famous are people just like anyone else, only with an added layer of expensive, sparkly veneer.
Chris Evans, though. Well, let’s just say Chris’s blue eyes, his dazzling smile, and his chest – god, that chest – had helped along Sebastian’s gay awakening considerably, all those years ago.
So even though he realizes what he’s about to do could be considered slightly unethical, the next number Sebastian dials is that of his agent. There’s no harm in asking if there’s any chance she could use her industry connections to pass on a message to Chris Evans, surely?
“Chris Evans?” his agent repeats blankly. “The British radio DJ or the actor?”
Sebastian huffs out a laugh. “Actor. Definitely the actor. Why would I want to send a message to a British radio DJ?”
“Why would you want to send a message to the actor?” she shoots back. “Apart from the obvious, of course.” 
Touché.
Once he’s explained the situation to her, his agent hums thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll admit that’s pretty amazing,” she says. “As it happens, I know someone at CAA who owes me a favor. I’ll see what I can do.”
Sebastian thanks her warmly, and then he waits.
***
That afternoon, Chris gets a phone call from his agent.
“Thank you for the postcard,” she reads aloud. “If you're ever in the neighborhood, you’re welcome to stop by the house and have a look around, for old time’s sake. Happy Holidays, Sebastian Stan.”
“Sebastian Stan?” Chris asks, eyebrows shooting up. “The author?”
“Oh, you know him?”
“Well, no. Not exactly. I’ve read one of his books, though, the one that’s shortlisted for the Pulitzer price, I think? He’s very good.”
His agent hums. “If you say so. Do you want me to pass a message back to him?”
Chris opens his mouth to say yes, then closes it again. “Actually,” he says, making a spur-of-the-moment decision, “I’m still in the area so I think I’ll just pay him a visit. Do you think you could you cancel my flight back to LA this afternoon?”
His agent grumbles at him for a bit but eventually concedes, though not before she’s made Chris promise he’ll be back in LA on Tuesday, for the Christmas special he’s due to appear in. Fun.
For a few moments after he’s ended the call, Chris stares out of the window of his hotel room. It’s snowing again, big flakes fluttering down from the sky, slowly turning the grey, slushy roads white again. He wonders if Pulitzer-finalist Sebastian Stan likes to make snow angels in the backyard too, like Chris used to do.
Putting his phone between his shoulder and his ear, Chris starts to put his things in his overnight bag, and calls an Uber.
It’s almost twilight, by the time the cab come to a stop in front of the house. Chris thanks the driver and steps out, booted feet sinking into the freshly fallen snow. It’s piling up quickly, he notices distantly.
It’s odd, being back here, after everything that’s happened since he moved away, so Chris gives himself a moment to just stand there, in the middle of the deserted street, taking in the sight of house he grew up in.
The house that holds countless memories, many of them good, some of them not so much. His first dog and his first kiss. Scraped knees and snowball fights. Raucous laughter and hissed arguments.
The house looks the same but different.
Chris walks up to the front door, snow crunching under his boots, and rings the doorbell.
***
Chris Evans is on Sebastian’s doorstep.
All blue-eyed, bearded, gloriously muscled, six-foot-something of him.
“Uh,” Chris says, blinking at him in something like surprise before his gaze sweeps up and down Sebastian’s body in a blatant once-over. “Sebastian Stan?”
“Oh wow, you actually came,” Sebastian blurts by way of reply.
Chris’s eyes widen. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought- ‘cause you said-”  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian interrupts. “I did say that. I just- I guess I wasn’t expecting you to really turn up – or not this soon, at least. But it’s no trouble at all, I live alone so it’s nice to have a visitor. Especially, y’know. You.” Forcing himself to stop talking, Sebastian runs a hand through his messy hair and wishes he’d worn something better suited to meeting one’s celebrity crush. “Sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “Let’s try that again. Hi, I’m Sebastian Stan.”
“Chris Evans.” Chris smiles back warmly as he shakes Sebastian’s extended hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Lovely,” Sebastian repeats, holding Chris’s gaze. There are tiny flecks of green mixed in with the blue of his eyes, and his lashes would put any Maybelline model to shame. It takes Sebastian longer than it should to remember to let go of Chris’s hand, but fortunately, Chris doesn’t seem to be in any rush either. Huh. Sebastian clears his throat. “Would you- would you like to come in?”
“I’d love to, if you’re putting out,” Chris replies. There’s a beat, and then he freezes, eyes widening in horror. “If I’m not putting you out – not- not if you’re- I wasn’t, I didn’t mean- oh my god, Chris, stop talking you meatball,” Chris groans covering his face with a large hand. His next words come out a little muffled. “I am so sorry. Just ignore me. I have a horrible hangover, I promise I’m not usually this much of a disaster.”
Sebastian laughs, equally charmed by Chris’s helpless chattering as he is by the blush coloring his cheeks, just visible above the line of Chris’s well-groomed beard.
“You’re fine, I’m not easily offended,” he assures him, stepping aside to let Chris into the hallway. “I can take a lot.”
Oh.
This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to wince at his choice of words, but when he tentatively glances back at his visitor to see if he noticed, he stills. The look on Chris’s face instantly makes him forget all about feeling embarrassed.
Still standing by the door, melting snow forming puddles around his feet, Chris is watching him intently. There’s something curious in his gaze, something sharp and searching.
It makes Sebastian’s breath catch in his throat. He swallows, resisting the impulse to avert his gaze, play it off as a joke. Instead, he makes himself stare right back. Lets the tension build, lets it simmer and crackle as it stretches out between them, growing stronger with every second they spend looking at each other in heavy silence.
“That right?” Chris asks finally, his voice a low rumble that settles in Sebastian’s bones like smoldering embers. Chris takes a careful step forward, slowly, giving him every chance to back away.
Sebastian stays where he is. 
“Mmm,” he hums, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down lightly, experimentally, on the soft, plump flesh. When Chris’s eyes flick down to his mouth instantly, homing in on it like an eagle on its prey, Sebastian decides to take a chance.
“Tell you what,” Sebastian says huskily, stepping closer under Chris’s dark, watchful gaze. “Why don’t you give me a tour and show me which bedroom used to be yours-” he comes to a halt right in front of Chris, looking up at him through his eyelashes, “and maybe you’ll find out just how much I can take, hm?”
For a moment, Sebastian holds his breath, praying he read this thing right and didn’t accidentally sexually harass a virtual stranger – but then Chris growls and surges forward, and Sebastian knows his gamble is about to pay off.
Big time.
Merry Christmas to me, Sebastian thinks wildly, just before Chris claims his mouth in a searing kiss. After that, he stops thinking altogether.
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