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normiewrites · 4 years

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i used to knit when i was younger and this fic was inspired by the haikyuu discord and a friend of mine!

just pretend that u can knit, thanks

thanks to @kingtamakimurder for beta reading this!!

other tags: admin z from @bnhaclaimedmysoul @mci-writing @burnedbyshoto

Warning(s): angst, shouto being a meanie

Interwoven - Todoroki Shouto x (g/n)Reader

It started with a small pink woollen blob that sat on Shouto’s table. It was supposed to be a strawberry and it didn’t fail to confuse Shouto as he looked around to see who was trying to get him. You were too slow to realize that his eyes caught yours staring at him and the fluffy ball in his hands, and you knew that you were in a bit of a mess right as Shouto cornered you after school was over. You couldn’t help but blush and stutter as you tried to explain to him how you observed he liked strawberries and that you wanted to knit one for him, but of course you left out the truth about how you adored everything about him and how you could feel your heart pounding against your chest whenever you felt his presence. Despite wanting to close your eyes from embarrassment, you were happy that you didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have caught the small smile on his lips as he thanked you, pocketing the item before walking away. That’s what started your relationship with the shy boy.

The next day you saw it attached to his bag and that’s how you got the confidence to knit more items for him. After the UA sports festival, Todoroki was surprised to see a singular white mitten on his desk. When he asked you why, you nervously played with the tips of your fingers as you explained how cold his right side seemed after using his ice quirk for too long. Instead of rejecting your gift politely like you had expected him to, he put it on his hand and wiggled his fingers bowing his head and thanking you, commenting it about how it fit his hand perfectly. You both knew it wasn’t practical for his quirk at all, but the fact that you had taken out your time to knit him something like this really twisted his heart in the right ways. Needless to say, he was always looking forward to the next item that he would get from you. He would always wonder what type of item it would be and what colours you would choose, but no matter what he could think of, you always ended up surprising him. Once you even managed to knit a strawberry milk carton for him. It was difficult but worth it, because from seeing how beautiful it looked and how much you were smiling as you gave it to him, nothing held him back any longer as he asked you out on a date.

Ever since then, as Shouto’s dorm room got filled with all sorts of knitted goods, your love for knitting and the boy himself grew too. You always found yourself smiling as you knitted, not caring about how long or painful the task was, because you knew Shouto would love it in the end. The way that you weaved each thread between the self-made loops and how it looked like a mess in the beginning but always turned out making sense in the end was almost like a metaphor for yours and Shouto’s relationship. There might have been a few ups and downs, especially with how terrible Shouto’s childhood was and how you both were new to this concept of love, but it always made sense in the end and each bump in the road was always paved over to make a better road for your futures. However, this time you truly didn’t know what the newly knitted scarf had in store for you.

You smiled triumphantly through the sweat at the red and white cross stitched scarf, the end of the while side adorned with ice blue snowflakes and the red side with orange flames. The scarf had taken you more than 3 months to knit and you were sure you pulled a few muscles along the way. But the excitement of seeing Shouto’s reaction overpowered how tired you felt as you hopped out of your room, on your way to your boyfriend’s room. You didn’t even care to put back the materials, too pumped up to show it to the love of your life. The halls were empty as it was late in the evening but your heart was contrastingly full with love as you clutched the warm garment close to you, knocking on the cold wooden door as you sweetly called out for Shouto.

You couldn’t help but keep jumping lightly on your toes, your cheeks aching from smiling as you couldn’t contain yourself from showing Shouto what you had made for him, clutching the scarf tighter and tighter each passing moment. But once you clutched onto it as tight as you could, you realised with a slump of your shoulders that the door hadn’t opened and that you hadn’t seen the browns and blues of your boyfriend yet, despite the light coming from under the door.

Shrugging it off softly as he must have not heard or might be studying, you latched onto the cold metal knob before turning it and entering, the light of his room evading your senses.

“Sho-chan, look what I made for you!! It took me three months but because our anniversary is coming up, so it was worth it! I know that our anniversary is next week, but I was too excited to show you, so you can just pretend that you didn’t see this, okay?” you rambled on, stretching out the scarf by the ends as you held it in front of you with a gleaming smile on your face.

Instead of hearing praises and questions from Shouto, all you heard was silence as he stared at you with a crease in his eyebrows from his chair at his study desk. It sent chills all over you and it made you wonder who needed the scarf the most right now as goosebumps rose up on your skin.

“Do you like it?” you asked, lowering your voice a bit as you approached Shouto, taking small steps as the wooden floor felt cold against your skin.

Again you were greeted with silence, but this time it was disrupted with a sigh. It was a frustrated sigh and once Shouto started talking, you wished that you were basked in the silence instead.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to study here? We have a test tomorrow and you want to disturb me with some stupid arts and crafts project?” he asked, getting up from his desk and walking towards you, your scarf now pressing against his chest.

A stupid arts and crafts project? What was he talking about? Shouto always loved your creations, no matter how disformed they turned out in the end, so why was he saying that?

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I was too exci-“

“Endeavour was right, you’re just pulling me back, purposely. Why else would you be disturbing me when you know I study at this time?” Shouto sneered at you, his words piercing your brain.

What?

You?

Purposely pulling back Shouto?

Instead of confusion, you were filled with anger now and you could feel yourself heating up. You had always supported Shouto and sometimes even put his shit before yours. But before you could react, he grabbed the scarf from your hands, chuckling as he looked down at it. The way that his eyes looked so cold as they surveyed the piece made you feel too scared for your own liking, but it worsened once his left side started to light up.

You started breathing a bit heavily, the hours of exhaustion that went into the scarf finally creeping up onto you as questions filled your head. Shouto always made sure that you knew that he loved you and he always rambled on about how he was so excited for your next mystery item, but now he was burning the anticipated item up. It was a punch to your heart as you stepped back from the person that you didn’t seem to know. You felt yourself burning up further, but it wasn’t from the heat that the boy emitted.

“What’s the fucking point of this? I have a fire quirk that I can use to heat myself up instead of this stupid shit. I guess I’ll have to demonstrate it for a dumbass like you to understand” he growled before the scarf fully caught on fire.

You opened your mouth in a silent gasp, your limbs going numb as the tears on the edges of your eyes blurred the image of the scarf disappearing within the flames, not even daring yourself to look up at Shouto. You were too confused and scared to know what he looked like right now. Would he be regretful? Confused? Crying? Or would his eyes only know hate for you?

“Why don’t you use this time for studies or something useful instead? Fucking hell, you’re just so pathetic” he yelled, throwing the flaming cloth aside before eyeing his bag that rested on his bed, not caring for how close the scarf has landed to the curtains.

He snatched something from it, and even without looking, you knew what it was. But it didn’t hurt any less when he hung the pink blob of a strawberry in the view of your lowered head. You couldn’t believe what was happening and you quietly pinched yourself to wake up, but nothing worked as your throat choked up, seeing the woollen strawberry go up in flames. That’s what finally brought you back to your senses.

Knowing that that was the first thing that you ever made for him gave you enough strength to snatch it out of his hands, yelping as you felt the hot flames seep through your skin. You knew it was stupid to try to extinguish something with your bare hands but to you it was worth it. After screaming out from the pain that raced up your skin, you immediately felt a cold hand ontop of yours, the burns now steaming as a worried Shouto looked at you with his own tears now, his expression devoid of any anger now.

“S-stop, Shouto, you’ll scar m-me!” you screamed, yanking your hands out of his, letting his body slump to the floor as he spaced out, his eyes never leaving your hand.

Sobs left your weakened body as the hot and the cold sensations shot up your arm, the strawberry extinguished as you kept tightly clutching onto it.

What happened to Shouto? What happened to the boy whose eyes lit up when they found yours? What happened to the smile that he always had when he heard your voice? Where did he go? Did Endeavour finally break him? Was he this weak all along or did he just realise that he deserves more than you? The questions plagued your mind as you kept crying, your throat too constricted to make any sounds as you let the pain engulf your body.

You felt so weak and lost, you wanted to be safe in his arms, but the damaged nerves on your hand reminded you that that was not an option anymore. And as you looked down at the kneeling boy, all you saw was the same Shout before the UA sports festival. The one that disregarded everyone and hated himself. It hurt seeing him like that more than what he physically did to you, but you were out of tears and love at this point.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry” you heard from the quiet boy as the sprinklers went off now, alarms blaring as you held your scarred hand against your chest, a salty liquid permeating your tongue.

You couldn’t deny the reality now. Shouto had burnt you just as his mother did, but he left even deeper scars on your heart. You didn’t know what to do, or why this happened, but you knew you didn’t want to see his particular red and white hair anymore. Before hearing anything more you ran out of the room, pushing past your concerned classmates and out of the building, not caring for the twigs and stones that pinched your feet as you kept running from the place that you used to call home.

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willow-salix · 4 years

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This should be titled "Gordon being a little shit for the entire chapter" here it is.

"What are you two arguing about now?" Jeff asked as he walked in to find John and Selene surrounded by papers and Selene in the process of crossing something off a list.

"Guest list," Scott supplied.

"Obviously John has barely anyone to invite," Gordon continued.

"I resent that," John muttered but couldn't actually deny it.

"They want to keep it small so are whittling names off as best they can," Virgil finished. "Well, she is, he's trying to add names to his side."

"Comments from the peanut gallery are not needed," Selene huffed, tossing a ball of scrap paper at his head. "So, Troy has to be there at the reception," Gordon groaned but she plowed on, "but it's just close family and friends at the actual ceremony, we're agreed on that much."

"Yes."

"Troy can bring George if he wants, and only one date, not two, I'm not having a cat fight go down."

"Agreed."

"Let me see," Gordon demanded, snatching the list. "Maybe I can think of someone to add to John's."

"I don't need your help, thank you, I'm fully aware of my own friends." He reached for the list but Gordon moved it out of the way.

"Boring, boring, Conrad is cool, boring, Ned, boring, mega boring, Ridley?" he eyes grew wide as he glanced at his brother. "You're inviting Ridley?"

"Uh oh," Scott whispered to Virgil, moving aside out of firing range. "Incoming."

"What's wrong with Ridley?" John wanted to know.

Virgil, Gordon and Scott's eyes slid towards Selene who was busily scrolling through her phone to see who she had missed. She felt their stares and looked up.

"What? Did I miss something?"

"You've seen the list, right?" Gordon asked.

"Of course I have."

"And you're OK with Ridley coming?"

"Ridley? Sure, why not?"

"Really?" Scott looked shocked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Selene looked a little worried now. "Is she a secret mass murderer that I don't know about?"

"No," John snorted. "Of course not."

She shrugged. "Then I've got no problem, just don't let her…I don't know, dance with the punch bowl on her head."

"Out of everything, a dancing punch bowl is what you went with?" Virgil laughed.

"My brain is a bit busy right now, don't judge me, Muscles."

"But it's Ridley," Alan argued, catching the tail end of the conversation as he came in.

"So what? She's his friend, they talk at least once a week. Men are allowed to have female friends you know."

"So you don't care that she and John were almost a thing?" Alan continued innocently, not seeing the warning glare from John.

"We weren't a thing, she's my friend."

"Oh come on, you were totally into her, why else would you almost get yourself killed and Five smushed to save her life?" Gordon laughed.

"Because that's what we do, we save lives. And I wasn't in to her, we we-"

"You what now?" Selene's eyes narrowed dangerously, her mind catching up with her ears.

"We weren't a thing," John promised her hurriedly, but guilt and a promise to never lie to her had him amending his statement. "Barely a thing, not even a half thing," he continued to ramble. "One kiss, maybe a tiny bit of flirting…" he trailed off.

"Now look what you've done!" Virgil, glared at Gordon who shrugged, totally unrepentant.

"It would have come up at some point." He caused situations, he poked the bear, he stirred the pot, that was his main purpose in life. They all knew it, there was no denying it.

"Explain," Selene continued to glare at John.

"Think carefully, Son," Jeff warned from his desk where he was sitting, observing, watching the world burn as was his style, they didn't want him butting in, then he'd sit and watch…and probably laugh.

"There's nothing to explain," John assured her. "We got on well, we are still good friends as you know, I think she might have wanted more but it didn't work out that way. The GDF changed her position, she was based elsewhere and I realised that I wasn't that bothered by it."

"Not that," she huffed, brushing his confession aside as if it were an annoying bug. "I meant the whole almost getting yourself killed. Explain."

"Oh that, it was nothing. There was a comet about to hit earth and Global one was in the way and would have been hit too, I called Ridley and told her to evacuate and get clear. I had to use Five to tow the ship out of the way."

"That's nothing? You had to tow her ship, like a recovery vehicle and you say it's nothing? What are you now, International tow trucks? Why risk Five?"

"She didn't give me much of a choice, she didn't evacuate with her crew and I had to go get her. Save her, save her ship, that was the deal she gave me, I couldn't leave her there to die."

"So, let me get this straight," her voice had taken on a dangerous tone that even Scott wouldn't argue with. "Some space hussy flutters her eyelashes and basically blackmails you and you go running, putting yourself in danger because she's too dumb to do as she's told and get her arse out of the danger zone?"

John paused for a second, debating how to answer, when she put it that way it did sound bad. Ridley had been reprimanded and demoted because of it but he'd not thought much more of it, they put themselves in danger every week. "Yes?" he hedged, not wanting to argue with her but also not knowing how not to either.

"Dumbass," she yelled, smacking at his shoulder with a pad she'd grabbed off the table. "Never do that again or I'll kill you myself!"

"Ow! No hitting!"

"You deserve it! You almost got yourself killed!"

Gordon started to laugh, he couldn't help it.

"This is all your fault," John glared at his brother, fending off another whap of the pad.

"So you don't care about the fact that they were almost a thing?" Gordon confirmed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Gordon, please shut up," John sighed, why did his family delight in making everything ten times harder for him?

"Who is he marrying?" Selene demanded to know, not looking at Gordon as she tried to dodge John's hands to reach him with the pad.

"You," John answered, grabbing the pad and plucking it from her hand, which he took in his own, lacing their fingers. "Which is why we are having this very awkward conversation and you are resorting to violence. Well, that and my soon to be dead brother."

"Exactly. The past is the past, people have history, if you wanted to be with her you would be," she shrugged, extracting her hand from his.

"But I'm warning you now, you even dare to so much as think about doing anything that stupid again and I will not be responsible for my actions." She snatched the list off Gordon. "She's going on the table with my annoying cousins as punishment." She made a note on the list looking up with a challenging glare, daring John to argue, to see everyone staring at her again.

"Why do you all keep looking at me like I'm an alien?"

"They're just jealous," John grinned, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, thankful the awkwardness was over. Honestly, he hadn't known how she would react, most women would have kicked off big time. But he should have known better, she wasn't like most women, she knew they talked, she'd never had a problem with any of his friends, she knew he'd been with others before her and it had never been an issue.

"I'm still mad at you," she warned him, batting at his arm. "Get off!"

"Nope," he tightened his grip, leaning closer to risk stealing a kiss. He didn't get far as she blocked his lips with her hand.

"I said piss off!" she giggled, trying and failing to stay mad at him.

"No, you didn't," Virgil laughed.

"You're a weird woman, Sel," Scott laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, but you love me really," she grinned, giving up the fight and allowing John to drag her closer still.

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. This was how it should be, no jealousy, no stress between them other than wedding worries and definitely no secrets. Now he just had to find a way to tell her that he'd invited Ridley to her bachelorette party too. That was a job for another day, he wasn't that dumb to push his luck that much.

#Gordon stirs the pot #Oh no #GORDON #gordon tracy #john will never forgive him #john tracy #selene tempest #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015

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ktrivia · 5 years

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All Men Dream

Bucky x Reader

Summary:

Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?

Author’s Notes:

If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!

Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, suggestions, and theories!

Chapter 3

Bucky’s POV

What woke me up was not another nightmare, but the sun. I blinked awake with squinted eyes as sunlight poured through the gap in the drapes that I never closed. There was no reason to close them, I woke up before sun rise everyday anyway. Slight confusion filled me as I pondered having slept all night, but it was overridden by the feeling of restfulness. Stretching my arms above my head, I enjoyed the sensation of being well-rested, but I still couldn’t figure out why.

I tried to remember what I dreamed about, and Central Park filled my head. I had looked at ponds full of lily pads, walked around in awe of the greenery, eating a hot dog from a food stand, briefly looked for Y/N-

My thoughts cut of as Y/N reached my consciousness and the nightmare from before the park rushed me. Why was she there? Why had she helped me? Or at least what I could only assume was helping. As much as Steve believed this woman had evil intentions, something in me was disagreeing with his assessment. While I still didn’t like the idea of someone entering my mind, there was something else to this story than I knew. All I knew was that I needed to talk to her.

Turning over, I looked at the clock next to my bed and saw it was 9am. I jumped up and bolted from my room, knowing Steve and Natasha were probably already in the interrogation room. As I turned down the hallway to the kitchen, I spotted them at the table talking and eating breakfast. Slowing my stride, I contemplated what to tell them as I approached. The two noticed me about the same time. Steve had a small smile on his face as he placed the newspaper he’d been skimming down.

“Wow, this must be a new record for you sleep wise. Came to get you for our run this morning and you were still out. Did you just wake up?” Steve asked.

“Uh yeah. I had a good dream for once.” I explained as I went to the kitchen to get my normal cereal.

“What’d you dream about Barnes?” Natasha questioned in between bites of bacon.

“Central Park from the 40s,” I replied while looking at Steve for a reaction to the setting of the dream. His face scrunched a little.

“Huh. I had a dream about that a week ago. Ate a mean hot dog from a guy selling them there.” He responded. So, Y/N had really taken me to a setting from one of Steve’s dreams. That confirmed she had gone into both of our heads, but not didn’t answer the question of why. I sat down at the table with my bowl of cereal and began eating. Cereal had gotten so much better since I was a kid. Artificial flavoring was a damn godsend. After taking a couple bites I spoke.

“So, what’s the plan with dream girl?”

“That’s what we were just talking about,” Natasha said. “Got any ideas?”

“Yeah. Let me talk to her.” I replied calmly. Steve’s expression immediately switched to one of surprise and even Natasha reacted by raising an eyebrow at my declaration.

“Buck, are you sure that’s a good idea? She goes into people’s minds every night without their permission.” Steve asked softly.

“I’m not asleep and so far, I’m the only one who has been any semblance of ‘nice’ to her,” I explained while using finger quotes around the word nice. “She’ll be expecting the two of you to walk in, but I’ll be a surprise and hopefully catch her off guard.” And hopefully get her to tell me the real reason she’d been in my dream. Nat and Steve looked at each other and had another one of their stupid telepathic conversations. I didn’t know when they became able to have these silent conversations, but they annoyed the hell out of me.

“Ok,” Steve said before added a quick addition to it. “But we have to be in the viewing room at all times that you’re in there.” I huffed at the overprotectiveness but knew why he was treating the situation this way. If I had told him Y/N had been in my dream, he would have her sent to The Raft immediately with some horrific way to keep her from entering anyone’s dreams. I wasn’t sure if she deserved that treatment yet, but if she did, I’d be the first one to sign the paperwork.

________________________________________________________________

Reader’s POV

The night, or at least what I assumed was the night, dragged on. After I woke up from Bucky’s dream I hadn’t been able to fall asleep again. Most of the reason for that was my fear of accidentally jumping into another Avenger’s dream. Bucky in his near catatonic state may be slightly forgiving if he remembered his dream when he woke up, but others probably would not be. My shoulders had begun to hurt hours ago from being bound to the chair and my legs kept falling asleep from the lack of movement. My ass hurt too which was just the icing on the cake. My throat had dried out hours ago and swallowing became a struggle. Stomach rumblings had been the only sound for a while but they stopped a couple hours ago.

I considered who would even realize I was missing. My parents didn’t call often, and we had spoken a few days prior, so they wouldn’t be trying to contact me. My few friends were out of town to avoid the hot New York summer. Maybe my boss would notice, but he’d probably just fire me before questioning where I was. Really the only living thing concerned about where I was would be Meatball, but that was probably just because he was hungry. Shit. I really hope that brown ball of fluff breaks the rules and eats something on the counter.

I jumped in the chair when the door swung open. Moving so suddenly caused my aching muscles to scream as they performed any bit of motion. A groan escaped me as I tried to relax in the chair slightly. In the doorway stood Bucky Barnes. A blank expression covered his face, and while I could read others well, I couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. He shut the door behind him and made his way to stand in front of me, then crouch down to my eye level.

“I’ve disabled the microphones in here, but it won’t take long for the others to figure out how to fix them, so answer quick. Why were you in my head last night?” He questioned in a softer than usual voice. The slight kindness from yesterday was gone, and I feared my actions from the night before were not being perceived well. On the other hand, I wondered why he didn’t tell the others about me being in his head.

“It’s like I told you. I fell asleep last night, and I must have been thinking about you right before, so I accidentally ended up in your dream. It wasn’t on purpose I swear.” I explained again.

“Why were you thinking about me?”

“I’m locked in this room alone. I was running through everyone I’d met, and you were the nicest, so it must have left a decent enough imprint to send me to your dream.” I tried to explain. Blue eyes changed slightly into what I could only interpret as a contemplative expression.

“Why did you change the nightmare? Why not let it continue and just jump out of the dream when you could?”

“You were scared. Really, really terrified. I hate seeing anyone look that way. So, when you agreed to let me untie you from that chair, I knew I had to do something to make it better.” I paused for a moment before speaking again. “We all have to deal with enough horrors in our waking lives. We shouldn’t have to experience them in our dreams too.”

Bucky stayed silent for what felt like hours, but really could only have been minutes. He opened his mouth to ask another question but shut it quickly.

“Hey Buck, the microphones were off for a minute there. You ok?” Steve’s voice asked while echoing through the room.

“All good,” Bucky replied. With a quick warning glance to me, he started a new line of questioning.

“Who do you work for?”

“No one. At least no super villains. I literally work, as in a nine to five job, for a dick named Greg, but that’s marketing work and he doesn’t even pay me enough for that.” I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I had begun rambling. Bucky’s lips quirked a little before he continued.

“Why were you in Steve’s dreams?”

“The 40s, at least the way they were in his dreams, were really fun. I liked going to eat at an ice cream parlor or go dancing. It was a completely different world than the one I experience every day and I wanted to see it more. It’s like a Disney movie in his head.” Bucky let out a quiet laugh before composing himself again.

“He does like Disney movies a lot but that’s a different conversation,” He explained while looked pointedly at the glass like he was looking at Steve. “Why did you go into his dream in the first place?”

“I had been in some famous people’s dreams before, so I knew distance didn’t matter, but I didn’t know if him being a super person would keep me from being there. Originally, it was just a personal test to see if I could get in there, but I liked them, and I kept going back.”

“And you realize if we find out you’re lying, there will be hell to pay?” He questioned with a cold look.

“Yes,” I replied immediately. “I promise I’m not lying. I don’t know how to prove that but I’m not.” Bucky was silent again as he seemed to ponder something.

“Can you bring someone with you when you dream walk, as you call it?” His question took me aback and it was a moment before I spoke again.

“I’ve never tried it. I don’t think I could bring someone with me, but I could possibly enter two people’s consciousnesses at once.” My mind began racing with the possibilities of being in two people’s minds. Would they enter a joint dream space? Or would it form a strain on me as I existed in two different minds? Bucky asked another question, interrupting my train of thought.

“Does the person have to be literally sleeping or will just unconscious work?”

“Uh, they can be just unconscious,” I answered while still focusing on his previous question.

“Why do you know they can be unconscious and not sleeping in the normal way?” Bucky asked. His voice had taken on a sharper tone and I realized my answer came off with nefarious connotations.

“It wasn’t a bad reason! My brother was in the hospital after he got hit by a car when we were kids. Thy had him sedated for a couple days to help him heal and I would go hang out in his head to keep him company.”

“Does your family know about this ability?”

“No. My brother and parents wrote his dreams off as a side effect of the concussion he had.”

Bucky nodded once, stood there for a moment longer, and then left the room. As the door shut behind him, my hope of going home after this ordeal quickly drained. I didn’t know what decision he’d made, but I was worried. After ten minutes of tense silence, the door opened again. Bucky stood there, and I could see Steve behind him with a strained expression.

“You’re going to go into my head, but someone else is coming with me.”

Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):

@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #all men dream #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #cap #captain america #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #nat #black widow #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #fanfic #fic #bucky fic #steve rogers fic

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writerkenna · 5 years

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The Lights of Stars and The Glitter in Your Eyes Chp 4

I am SO sorry for how long this took. I went from ear infection to cold to stomach flu one right after another and could hardly do more than lay in bed and watch Schitt's Creek.

I will try to be more consistent with updates from now on.

But y'all, this shit is cute. Really cute. FLUFF WARNING

Enjoy!

(songs that I liked while writing this: Mine by Bazzi, Somethin Stupid by Frank Sinatra, Chelsea Dagger by the Fratellis and the ramblings of my own mind by me)

“That system is one of the most massive in the universe. Over thirty planets. You see how big the star is?” Thor said as Bruce leaned over to where his finger was pointing at. Bruce jotted down a scribble of something.

“What’s the name? And, uh, um, what are our coordinates right now? Do you know that? Is it inhabited?” Bruce rambled, eyes darting in bright flashes between Thor, the twinkle of the Galbacus system, and his notepad. The side of Thor’s lips ticked up into a pleased smile, and gave all the details he could.

Stargazing, though not as frequent an occurrence as their other rituals, was becoming part of their shared traditions. Bruce was the push behind every extended trip to the window. Thor had learned that his seven PhDs were in Nuclear Physics, Computer Science, Biochemistry, Radiobiology, Medicine, Particle Physics, and, apparently, Astronomy, which he had explained to Thor he had pursued due to his intense and undying love of the stars. Bruce approached space with a mix of the analytical and passion, coming in with a million questions of metrics as well as younger eyes than Thor had ever seen on him. Thor always tried to answer, to the best of his abilities, the questions that Bruce sped-spoke to him. He hoped that maybe one day this could go into another one of Bruce’s papers and he would have helped with that and done a service to Midgardian science as a whole, though, secretly, he knew, as he watched Bruce’s teeth tug in a corner of lip while he gave him the details of Galbacus’s fourth planet from its star, that he did not really love star charting for any educational purpose.

“How do you know all this, by the way? All the systems?” Bruce asked.

“Asgardian education is very broad, Bruce. I know much about astronomy, as well as other sciences.” Thor’s grin inched out further as a warmth spread under Bruce’s cheeks along with a steady glow permeating from under his irises.

“Asgard has science? That’s . . . like, sorry this is kinda lame, but can you explain it to me, how that works? This sorta stuff is, well, my thing,” Bruce beamed and his mouth pulled open a smidge to show a glint of white teeth. He was genuinely excited about this, almost to the point of wonder, and the smile Bruce was sending his way, a real, true, indulgent smile, hit Thor in his core, melting that solid ball of grit inside him to some moldable mush.

“I, yes, I’m realizing that it is,” he replied. He went on, expanding on the manners of Asgardian science, the overlap of magic with the technical, and followed the motions of Bruce’s speedy fingers flicking around his notepad.

He wrote with a fire that sprung from the tip of his pencil and resulted in half-readable scratches across his page. Note taking and research were the only times Bruce, outside of Hulk form, moved with speed. His hands, which were normally kept braced around each other at his midsection in a silent state of waiting, moves rare and planned, woke themselves when the notion of science floated by them. They ignited first, those hands, though the rest of the body always followed close behind, alive with the idea of gaining knowledge. Thor didn’t think he should be blamed for staring.

Thor did stop his eyes from locking, though, when he caught himself stuck on the twitch of Bruce’s pinky as it tapped its own secret code on the notepad. Thor’s chest went hot, like an ember pushing its way through him from his back, and he had to actually shake himself to remove the tension of it. As he did, the hand which seemed to be causing the trouble moved up towards Bruce’s face and pressed against his temple.

“Agh, Christ, the big guy’s aggressive today.”

Thor’s everything fell, because Bruce had been saying that too often, because Thor knew why.

“Oh,” Thor was plummeting. He could see Hulk, see all the pain and fury spiking right under Bruce’s eyes and he hated himself for it, “What does it feel like? With him, trying to get out?”

Bruce dropped his hands down, connecting them together at his waist, and his mouth fell open at its center. His face became hard for Thor to interpret, changing too much too quickly, but Thor could see one thing for certain, two voices in one mind.

“It’s . . . ah, sort of like. Um, brainfreeze?” Bruce tried, but shook that off, “No, not like that, actually. More like, I can hear this noise, this mumble or . . . fuzz sort of thing, at the back of my head. And sometimes, like, um, right now, it’s super loud and . . . I, it’s hard to think, you know?”

“I . . . yes,” Thor said through his teeth. He paused, eyes not on Bruce but down on himself and the toes of his boots, and then raised both hands up to the sides of his head. He shoved against himself till he felt static at the corners of his sight. This felt necessary, somewhat, an atonement for his sins against Bruce, to feel the pressure he inflicted, but he couldn’t get a good traction with his knuckles, and he was sure, just from the fight that radiated out from under Bruce’s skin, that whatever Thor was trying was nothing compared to that.

“Hey, geez, don’t do that,” Bruce’s hand covered one of Thor’s and slipped it down. Thor allowed himself one curl around Bruce’s pinky with his index finger and uncoiled it as soon as he saw Bruce’s eyes drift to it.

“I . . . wanted to know how it felt for you.”

Bruce went into a wide eyed silence and took a pace away from Thor, left foot catching on his right.

“No, you-you shouldn’t want that,” Bruce said to the floor and Thor’s shoulders squared around his ears. He was certain, that if he was making Bruce’s head shake with rumbles, that if Bruce couldn’t meet his eyes, he must be truly awful.

“I-uh, Loki, I have to go meet Loki,” Thor shot at Bruce, turning as he spoke to the door and just missing seeing what Bruce’s eyes would have looked like when they returned to him.

His lunch with Loki was actually not for another thirty minutes or so but he really couldn’t look at Bruce right now, and he was fairly certain his presence was giving Bruce crippling migraines, so he took himself over to the cafeteria, flicked dirt out from under his nails, and waited.

“Why are you all twitchy, and stuff? What’s happening?” Loki settled across from Thor with a cup of something steaming. His brow was dipping into the skin of his eyelid as he scanned over the stretch of Thor, vaguely judgemental, as per usual.

“Ah, am I?” Thor checked himself. There was a tremble shimmying from his shoulder and through his thigh to his foot. He stopped, but the tension was still there, transmitting from his head in rolling waves as he thought about the situation he had screwed himself into.

“Yes, you are. Is it the politics overwhelming your very blond head?”

“No!” Thor replied, overly defensive, but, well, his head was a bit too blond for politics and he didn’t want to be reminded of the fact. He corrected his tone, “No, it is not-well, I do have a political query for you of sorts.”

“You can’t change your official title to Thor: King, Strongest Avenger, and National Asskicker,” Loki drawled, a smirk growing around his spoon as he ate his soup.

“Um, I am the only king so I think I can-wait, no, not what I was asking. I want you to be my foreign minister,” Thor whipped out a big grin on issuing on what he had hoped would be a joyous announcement. He was met with Loki’s smirk working away into a scathing frown.

“You are truly an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” Thor balked. Loki tossed his head back with a pull of a grimace across his face.

“I will absolutely not be doing that.” Loki was starting to look near disgusted and it was making Thor wonder if he had somehow insulted him. Maybe foreign minister hadn’t been big enough. Probably that.

“Now, I know foreign minister might not seem so grand, brother, but it’s perfect for you. All, ah, the cunning and strategy and being mean to other dignitaries,” Thor explained. Loki didn’t soften.

“No one here on this ship wants me anywhere near government,” he huffed back. Thor pulled his lips taut and shook his head.

“Uh, I do? Why aren’t you happy? You should be happy.” He sort of hated this act Loki put on of self pity, digging himself so firmly into the place of social pariah, which, well, maybe he was now after all he’d done. It was a chicken and egg deal with that, though, because Thor couldn’t remember when Loki was ever not whining about acceptance and lamenting his lot in life.

“I, wow, I can’t believe you’re actually this naive. You’re going to piss off all your councils, and, of course, Heimdall, if you make me anything. I mean, for Odin’s sake, you’ve already elected the beast as-”

“Do not,” Thor bellowed, a determined finger swinging out and attracting the attention of a couple two tables behind them, “call Bruce a beast.”

“Ah,” Loki said and his smirk returned with a fervor, like he had solved it. Thor groaned, because Loki had somehow turned this into a display of Thor’s complicated hang ups.

“What would you do if, in a theoretical situation, you really enjoyed someone’s company very much, but your company caused them pain?” Thor asked after he had decided he had been manipulated. Loki stared for a long moment, vacant face, before he spoke.

“Could you, theoretically, be caught for this?”

“Yes,” Thor answered, sweat brimming on the brink of his neck. He wasn’t sure exactly what the extent of Hulk and Bruce’s communication was, and his secret felt like it was wafting closer to the surface every day.

“Then I’d leave them the fuck alone,” Loki said, and Thor deflated.

Avoiding Bruce became easier as Thor went on with it. The ship had many areas to escape to, like the gym, that had bags and people to punch, the cafeteria, with meat to feast upon and people who were not Bruce to converse with, and occasionally, Loki’s quarters, which mostly resulted in both him and Thor becoming increasingly aggravated and was consequently low on Thor’s list of visiting spots. And though Bruce was up late most nights with his work on his paper, Thor could feign sleep well enough and their talking was minimalized.

Thor didn’t know if he liked the ease with which he was able to avoid Bruce.

He couldn’t, however, avoid Bruce in the council meetings. Bruce, as direct chancellor to the king, was at every one of them, sitting right next to Thor over piles of haphazard notes.

“No, no, we are going with Ariagana’s policy, not Haldier’s,” Bruce mumbled, only for Thor, slipping a page out from the others. Thor skimmed the lines on trade laws.

“We want the one with . . . ah, more safety checks on imported goods.” His eyes wandered over Bruce’s way, who gave him a small nod. Thor warmed as a curl stumbled over onto Bruce forehead with the motion. He brought his mind back to the meeting.

Bruce was a mighty distraction, though. This was the only long stretch Thor allowed himself to have of Bruce and it was hard not to fall down the coiled trap of watching all the quirks and fidgets Bruce was prone to. At that moment, Thor was getting a side-eyed view of how Bruce looped his pencil over and under his fingers in idle seconds. This, he supposed, creepily observing his private movements and ministrations, would have to fill the gaps left by their star charting and movie marathons and late night talks.

The meeting ended when a debate between two members of the agriculture committee got violent, where Thor decided with Bruce he was very clearly on Einar’s side.

“Hey.” Bruce grabbed Thor in the rush of people exiting the meeting room. Thor couldn’t help but notice that Bruce’s eyes were ghosted with the dull gray of stress.

“Hi, uh, hey, Banner,” Thor said, with an edge, with a border. Bruce’s lip ticked down, but he didn’t correct it, “Thanks for . . . you’re really good with the notes, thanks.”

“Course, bud,” Bruce said with a sigh and Thor could feel the sense of more underneath it. Despite himself, Thor didn’t leave. It had been four days without real conversation between the two. He had been craving.

“Can I ask you a question?” Thor offered. Bruce lit up.

“Sure.”

“With that film we watched, the one about the mean alien and the really badass lady warrior, is that cat okay in the end? I know the xenomorph doesn’t eat him but-” Bruce’s laugh bustled in and Thor’s brow bunched up, “What?”

“You are so precious,” Bruce said, face going soft in the edges of his mouth and the wrinkles of his eyes. Somewhere in between the muscles of Thor’s abs and his gut, a match was lit and as it sparked, his lungs burned. He took in two large gulps of air.

Bruce broke the fuzz, though, as he groaned and pressed fingertips to his temple. Thor caught himself, and guilt dredged out the fire.

“Have to go,” he shot before Bruce could say anymore. And Thor ran, fast, fast, fast.

He landed in the gym by riding his foggy wave of remorse and worry. The punching bag in the far left of the room became his venting for his anger at himself and the sparks that glinted across him when Bruce’s lips split open across his teeth. As fists flew and Thor’s vision blurred, time sped and dragged in equal portions, and Thor wasn’t sure, when someone pulled him off the crumbling bag, if he had been there for thirty minutes or five hours.

“Shit, that bag owe you money?” Valkyrie asked as Thor stumbled away from the bag. He huffed at it, then looked back over to Valkyrie, who looked like a solution.

“Spar with me?” he asked. Valkyrie’s mouth quirked up fast.

“Yeah,” she replied, followed closely by a fist zooming for Thor’s head. Thor ducked it and hooked Valkyrie’s waist until she was dipping with him.

“You’re upsetting Bruce,” Valkyrie said from under Thor’s hold. Thor gave her a long look and a puff of a ‘huh’. Valkyrie took the moment to loop her thighs around Thor’s neck and tumble them both back.

“How . . . do . . . you know?” stumbled Thor. Valkyrie laughed, but with a sigh, loosened her legs.

“He told me. Cause I talk to Bruce, unlike you, apparently?” she explained, and the legs fell. She leaned on her elbows on the rubber-ish mat below them, “Why is that?”

Thor flipped her forward as an objection to replying. She hissed out as her back slammed the floor with a might. Thor winced for her.

“Sorry.” Thor looked away as Valkyrie rolled her eyes. She started up and took a run towards him. Thor tossed his arms up as a counter.

“So what’s up?” Valkyrie asked around swings.

“What’s what?”

“You and Bruce? Are you, like, obsessed, or something? Because you are very, very freaky about him, whether or not you’re flirting with him.”

“Flirting? I, no, no, you-” Thor staggered. His hands were antsy with the allegation and they found traction in careful placement on Valkyrie’s shoulder and hip. His leg got a hit in at her gut, “I-look, flirting, no, and obsession, no. I’m not. I don’t get obsessed, please. That’s below me.”

“Ha! Okay, King, excuse me. Forgot how excellent and above us all you are,” Valkyrie said with an elbow to Thor’s chin. He took a stumble back, finishing it with a spit of whatever she had hit out of him. With a step forward and a toss of a fist, they were crashing blows again.

“Okay, so, well, I’m not saying I’m above you. I just, not obsessed. Bruce is-he . . . just, I just enjoy conversation with him because he is funny and a genius at Midgard science and has good Midgardian films to watch and listens to me and turns into a really cool green guy and makes jokes about things I don’t get but I’m trying to and-and . . . oh, oh. Oh.”

Thor was huffing hot air out into the room and on Valkyrie at that point, the fight only half to blame.

The air room in his head was being sucked out. He was dumb, very dumb. He was made a fool by Bruce in shirts that were too big, with his damned curls and wrinkles and smiles and olive skin. Thor didn’t know how he could only find this from pain and utter Bruce Banner starvation. Despite this, despite being a giant idiot who couldn’t even understand the workings of his own self, Thor felt a smile bubble up on his red face. He didn’t fully snap out of it when a foot knocked him in the chest and he fell to the floor. Instead, warm with electricity and blood rushing everywhere at once, Thor rolled his head up to Valkyrie.

“Oh Gods, I’m in love with Bruce.”

Okay so if you're wondering why they watch so many 80's movies, Bruce Banner, if going based on Mark Ruffallo, should be like 48 or 49, so, a total 80's baby. He also loves Sixteen Candles, Queen, and the Cure.

#thorbruce #thurce #gammahammer #thunderscience #Thor Odinson #Bruce Banner #Loki #valkyrie #MCU #thor ragnarok #mcu fanfiction

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efemerald · 5 years

Text

Fight Me

Read it here! (a kiribaku fantasy au)

“Fight me.”

The first time Bakugou heard it, he was caught completely off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You like to fight, right? So fight me! I’ve arranged a whole sparring ring behind the sheds – it’s not much, but it’ll work.”

Bakugou stared at him blankly, mouth twisted into a frown. He liked the stable boy; he liked coming down here in the evenings, tired from a whole day of stupid princely duties, and finding comfort in the long hours of easy, dwindling conversation. Mostly, it was just him listening to Kirishima ramble for ages about whatever new hyperfixation he’d found that day, whether it be Riot, his favorite stallion, or Kaminari’s latest antics. And yes, it’d begun mostly as a way to hide from his Mother. But somewhere along the line, it’d become the best part of his day. Kirishima’s happiness was infectious, and his sense of humor, surprisingly, matched Bakugou’s exactly. They were a good pair. Bakugou didn’t know if he could endure his work anymore without those moments of relief to look forwards to.

So what the fuck had he done to make Kirishima angry? He’d thought that was literally impossible. Besides, he took every possible care to not piss Kirishima off – unlike most people in Bakugou’s life, Kirishima was worth taking care of – so this was frustrating.

As he stood there, raking over the past few days and trying to find anything offensive – a joke that had gone too far, an insult that crossed the line – Kirishima grew increasingly nervous. The redhead abandoned his bold stance, shrinking, and began fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But, you know, I’ve been training at Fatgum’s a lot lately, and I thought–“

“The wrestling coach?” Bakugou’s nose scrunched into a sneer. “His arena’s dodgy as fuck, it’s literally in the basement of a butcher’s shop. The hell are you doing there?”

Kirishima’s face turned red. “Uh, practicing. You know. So I learn to, you know, fight, and stuff.” He mumbled the last part embarrassedly, and it took Bakugou a moment to understand it right.

Then the pieces finally clicked together. Kirishima wasn’t angry, he was just looking for sparring practice. That, Bakugou was more than happy to supply. He grinned. “Yeah? Think you can take me?”

In half a heartbeat, Kirishima regained his confidence. “Only one way to find out, Blasty!”

###

As such, fighting became a new part of their routine. It always started with a sly grin from one side, followed by the challenge: “Fight me… Wanna go?….Think you can take me?”

Sometimes it was for fun, sometimes it was just stress release, but either way, it always ended up with them thrashing in the mud, faces strained red with determination and muscles pushed to the top of their limits.

Somehow, it was a whole different world to Bakugou’s swordsman lessons, or even Kirishima’s wrestling ones. The unbridled passion on both sides; the freedom of flesh on flesh, of breath mixing with hot breath, this exhilaration was entirely new and intoxicating. Neither boy could remember being happier.

Afterwards, they’d lay on the cold pavement, tired but blissful, chests heaving, and just talk. The spike of adrenaline, combined with the darkening sky, created just the right conditions for unchecked, unfiltered conversation. It was here that the topic of the ball first arose.

“So, you’re gonna meet your bride there?”

Bakugou grunted. “Yeah, I guess. It’s my princely obligation or whatever. It’s about time, too! Soon as I marry her, I’ll get to be king of whatever backwater city she’s from.”

Kirishima barked out a laugh. “I feel sorry for whatever poor princess marrying you.”

“Oy.” he shoved Kirishima with a foot, too tired to do anything more. “I’m a fucking delight to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kirishima turned to lay on his side, and Bakugou was sharply aware of the ruby eyes now roaming over his face. “When you’re not too busy blowing stuff up, right?” he smirked. “Try not to start a war on your first day.”

“Oh, really funny, Red.” Bakugou threw a hand towards the other’s face, attempting to push him away. Kirishima saw it coming and blocked just in time. He giggled again.

Then, quick as it’d appeared, the laughter died from Kirishima’s face. “Hey, Katsuki.”

He only ever used Katsuki when it was serious. Bakugou raised a worried brow. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Will you miss me? When you leave?” the words were so uncharacteristically soft and nervous, Bakugou almost couldn’t hear them.

“The fuck you talking about, moron?” he rolled his eyes. “You’re coming with me, obviously.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re coming with me.” he waved a dismissive hand. “I assume there’ll be horses wherever we are.”

He expected Kirishima to be pleased by this. Maybe even excited to see someplace new. Instead, all he got was empty silence.

After waiting for, and not receiving, any sort of response, Bakugou finally turned to look at his friend.

Kirishima’s eyes were narrowed into a squint. His whole face was pulled into an expression of dazed confusion. “But, Katsuki...”

“What? Stop looking at me like that!”

“Katsuki, your Mom’s already given me notice of leave. Once you leave, I’ll be fired.”

“...Oh.” The news hit Bakugou like a blow to the chest. He never thought he’d be so affected by the loss of a stable boy, and yet, here he was, at loss for what to say. For the first time in years, Bakugou was seeing red.

“Yeah,” Kirishima continues, oblivious to his friend’s mounting fury. “Your Mom says the princess is very pah-tick-yoo-lur,” (he placed special emphasis on the last word, particular, in an impressive and otherwise very funny imitation of Bakugou’s Ma) “about hiring staff. Says she doesn’t want some dirty hillbilly around her home.”

“...Ah.”

“Also, you know, your Mom’s worried about how close we are. Says it’s bad for the family reputation and stuff. Guess it makes sense.”

Bakugou was silent for a very long time. His eyes had become empty, staring vacantly off into space, as he thought it over. When he sighed, the heat of his breath tickled Kirishima’s nose.

Finally, “Okay. Fine, then.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima, misunderstanding, agreed with a disappointed huff. “But we can make the most of it! I’ll write every night, and–“

“No!” Bakugou snapped. “We’re not doing any of that shit!”

“We’re not?” His eyes widened with hurt.

“No, we’re not.” Bakugou said decisively. “I’m not marrying her.”

Kirishima blinked. “Uh. Huh?”

“You heard me. I’m not marrying her, not if it means losing my best friend, dipshit.”

With that, he began to stand, dusting the mud off his pants.

“W-wait!” Kirishima scrambled to his feet. “But what about your kingdom? Your legacy, and all that?”

Bakugou grinned at him. “Don’t worry about it, Red. I’ve got it all figured out.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah. All I need is for you to show up on Friday night. To the ball.”

If Kirishima was confused before, he was completely lost now. “But I don’t–“

“I’ll get you a stupid invite, stupid. I’m the crown prince, remember?”

“But–“

“Just trust me, Kirishima.” he picked up his cape from where it lay folded on the bench, wringing it out and shooting back a grin as he walked away. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

With a flick of his head, he’d turned the corner, and was gone. Kirishima was left to stare dumbly at the empty space he’d once inhabited. “Well...” he murmured to himself. “Alright. Guess I should find something to wear.”

#kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha fic #kiribaku fic #boku no hero academia

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greennightspider · 6 years

Text

Fated Instinct Chapter 12: Confess. Confess and Repent.

Summary: Sequel to Cabin in the Snow. Akari finds herself in a predicament after an accidental overnight stay in a cabin grants her the title of fiance to the chieftain-to-be M’Baku himself.

Author’s Note: Yes it is dialogue-heavy forgiveth meh but also YAY I MADE MY SELF IMPOSED DEADLINE!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 19(2), Chapter 20, Chapter 20(2), Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Bonus Chapter 21.5

M’Baku x Akari (OC)

“Please, please help me.”

Akari took a moment to process what was happening, especially because she had thought she was going to have to throw fists, not hold hands.

"Akari please I cant do this anymore." N'Ceba started sobbing quietly, tears falling down her cheeks leaving Akari to try to switch from ‘fight mode’ to ‘friend mode’. Part of her was wondering if this was a ploy for sympathy, but until she heard her out Akari decided to comfort her sobbing classmate with an arm and gently sit her down, as N'Ceba looked like she was going to collapse.

"N'Ceba,” Akari started, slowly. “Tell me what's wrong."

"Akari I'm sorry I'm so sorry." N'Ceba choked through tears. "I didn't wanna do this right from the very beginning but I had no choice but everything was fine until the challenge day and then you and Baku got involved and I felt like shit-"

"Hey hey hey," Akari tried to soothe N'Ceba, who was clearly on a rambling confession. "Deep breaths, just deep breaths." She calmly instructed, with N'Ceba following her commands, which seemed to slightly lessen. "Why dont you start from the beginning, okay?"

"Okay." N'Ceba sniffed. Act or no act Akari couldnt help feeling sorry for her, it was hard to watch someone be so broken. Especially N’Ceba. Aside from her current ‘personal space issue’ with M’Baku, Akari could admit that N’Ceba was nice to be around. She was generally a happy person, always smiling, always happy, always social. Akari had never seen N’Ceba even come close to crying, even she accidentally got hit in the face full force with a ball.

"A couple of years ago, my father and his family took me to the palace and introduced me to Uuka. We would often go to the palace as my dad is a noble. We grew close and as luck would have it, Uuka and I slowly fell in love. He was so warm and kind and caring, I mean how could I not?" N'Ceba sniffed with a nostalgic smile before biting her lip. “He always looked out for me and cared for me. And one day in secret, since Uuka isn’t really one for big huge showy things, he went and told my father that he was the man I would marry one day." N'Ceba wiped her eyes as she continued. "While it wasn't anything official at the time, but it was something. We were going to tell people after the challenge day.” Akari’s eyes lowered and her mouth slightly parted as she knew where this was going.

"But the on the day of the challenge, when Uuka lost to M'Baku, everything shattered. What I hadnt realised at the time was that my father didnt want me to be with Uuka purely because he thought we were a "good match". No, he wanted our bloodline to continue in the Jabari throne. How stupid of me not to realise." N'Ceba chastised herself with a laugh, and Akari couldnt help but wince. Whatever misgivings she had, she didn’t think N'Ceba was stupid for thinking her own father wanted the best for her.

"It wasn’t enough that Uuka was good to me and treated me well and that he was a prince, no my father wanted his grandchildren to be friggin heirs." N'Ceba scoffed.

"Right after the challenge took place my father dragged me away by the arm and told me that from then on I was to act in a way that M'Baku would favour me. Or else. You know he would have beaten me if he wasn’t sure that it would affect my chances at wooing Baku."

"Ever since then I have acted the way my father wanted me to act. Slowly becoming closer with M'Baku, playing the typical 'fangirl'. And I know this all sounds fucked up but even you remember people never used to talk about me and M'Baku until a couple years ago." N’Ceba "And then when you came into the picture..."

"You were scared for your life."

N’Ceba barely nodded. "My father had pressured me to double my efforts, but it was pretty clear from the Winter Solstice Banquet that you two were a thing." Akari bit her lip and narrowed her eyes looking up, wondering if this really was the best time to divulge the whole ‘getting love-drugged’ story, but Akari thought it best to save for another time.

“Does Uuka know?” Akari questioned, but N’Ceba’s face said it all. “Uuka is the 'or else' isnt he.”

“I kept my distance since then.” N’Ceba sniffed. “

“Please Akari know that I am sorry I never meant to-“

“Its okay.” Akari held a hand up. "I get it now."

“But Akari this wasn’t supposed to be just me apologizing, I also came to warn you.” N’Ceba took a deep breath before speaking. “My father… even I’m not sure what lengths he would go to… have a foothold on the throne. I know it’s dangerous to speak of these things-“

Akari gripped her shoulder, settling into her serious demeanor. "N'Ceba it is treason."

“I know that!” N’Ceba exclaimed, gritting her teeth. “I know. And I have known for a long time. But I care about M'Baku. And I don’t want to see you two, or anyone else get hurt in the crossfire."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No, I haven't. To be honest my father has eyes and ears everywhere and I can't be sure who is watching. Its why I have to keep the act up even at school." N’Ceba made a subtle glance at the door. I guess I’m not the only one with trust issues here… Akari mused. “And what exactly did you need my help for?” She drew out slowly.

“To believe me.” N’Ceba gripped her Akari’s hands. “That is my favour, believe me. Please.”

Akari exhaled and looked into N’Ceba’s eyes, judging her worth. Her story did fill some holes, however it was the fact that she would even dare speak of treason to Akari, that she would risk the stature of herself, her father and her family to only ask for belief.

“I only have one-

“I have no feelings towards M’Baku.” N’Ceba reading Akari’s expression. “I still love Uuka.”

“Okay.”

“Like I really love him.”

“Okay.”

“Like have you seen him shirtless? Like I mean those back muscles though.

“Ooookay.”

“And like you’d think he’d be all nice and sappy but when I well you he can be damn dominant-“

“OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH INFO!” N’Ceba burst out laughing at Akari’s outburst, who followerd suit with a laugh shortly after. “Well I’m sorry! It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to talk to anyone about it. About.. about everything.”

Akari gave her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, I am 80% convinced.” N’Ceba laughed “Well I can’t blame you. I’d probably be more worried for you if you weren’t at least cautious.”

“Speaking of… in terms of who to trust. I think there’s at least one person that I know of in the palace who would be forever trustworthy, and that is the high priest.”

Akari tried not to tense up as flashbacks of birthing potions flooded her mind at the mention of the zealous priest. “And why would you say that?” She grimaced.

“Oh,” N’Ceba smiled. “He’s my grand-uncle.”

“…sorry he’s your WHAT??”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“My nephew. When will you let go of this obsession, this fixation that plagues you.”

“You know exactly why uncle.” The figure hissed. The two figures illuminated only in the light of the fire and candles of the temple, and the fire of the heated temper of the younger.

“M’Baku and Akari have been bound by the ritual.” The priest’s eyes followed his young nephew.

“It was an accident.” He scoffed.

“Did you not see for yourself at the Winter Solstice banquet?” The priest gripped his staff and furrowed his brows. “He has already pledged himself to her. They are in love. There is no going against the will of Hanuman.”

“We were so close.” The figure who paced in the amber light of the fire made no motion to show that he had heeded the old man’s words. “So close to gaining the bloodline of the throne and then that boy-” He all but spat, “Had to lose to that oaf and that harlot, Eshile’s daughter-

“Beware of how you speak!” The priest boomed. “They are the future bloodline of the throne, not ours!”

The priest then bit his lip in the silence filled the room after his outburst, tears threatened to adorn his eyes. “Why can you not let my niece be happy?”

“Happy??”

“Yes. To be free of this grudge, to be happy in her own right.”

“There will be no happiness for my family until we are where we belong.” The figure stormed away from his aging relative, who mourned the darkness in his nephew that saw no signs of regressing. He made for the darkness of the night that would conceal his intentions, gritting his teeth in the snowfall of the night. “Until we have what we deserve.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @skysynclair19 @junesbride @great-neckpectations @muse-of-mbaku@hippiesandpeacesigns @jackburtonsays @coonflix @hi-looo12 @bonyg@romanceoftheeveryday @someareblindtoitsbeauty@wheredidallthedreamersgo@msblkshot710 @peaches-bbygrl @theunsweetenedtruth@blackpinup22 @airis-paris14@macgruberrrsimplyyamberr @blackpantherreblogs@wawakanda-btch@im5ftbutmythroat66 @vanitykocaine @iamrheaspeaks @aykanna@laketaj24@letsshamelessqueen-m @leahnicole1219 @cutewylie @titty-teetee @babygirlofwakanda @chefjessypooh (let me know if you wanna be added come join us ;) Comments ALWAYS welcome and appreciated

#greennightspider #fated instinct #m'baku fanfiction #m'baku fanfic #black panther fanfiction #mbaku fanfiction #mbaku fanfic #m'baku x akari #m'baku x oc #someone help me with the tags for some reason i cant tag peeps

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frdknsll-blog · 6 years

Text

imagine the most serious character you know

now imagine them getting scared by the toaster going off as they walk by

⋆ ◦ ° ☾ joel kinnaman + male + he/his — have you met ford kinsella? they are thirty eight years old known around town as the bodyguard. they’ve been in the gang life for fifteen years, and currently work for the gang as a soldier. they are a pansexual virgo, which means they are practical + observant, as well as harsh + inflexible. rusty metal crow bar, beech forest in the winter, messages on read.

BIO:

born in valdez. his crackhead mom named him ford because she found him in the boot of a ford fiesta whilst she was robbing it. he was a one way ticket to claim some golden benefits.

had a string of men come in and out of their home like a revolving door who were just as bad as her or worse. ford was still protective of his mum, despite all her shit, and he paid for it.

grew up in a lil trailer park in some dodgy area. a real small community. guy ritchie snatch vibes. he heard stories of kids at school playing ball in the garden but the kids from the trailers fought each other for fun.

he only knew the difference bc he actually went to school. occasionally. he enjoyed learning and thought he’d be able to get on the right path. rip. kept to himself at school, quiet. never threw the first punch but his first was always the last.

the community attempted to overthrow the ‘monsters’ that controlled valdez. stupid.

resulted in one big throw down betw the two groups on ford’s home ground. by the time the caito’s gang were finished - mind you it didn’t take them long - the majority of the ppl ford grew up with were either dead, in the back of police cars, or on the run...

at the age of nineteen, he was thrown into jail. had already gone to juvie a few times. after he’d established his reputation as someone that didn’t like being started on bc it meant he had to finish them? it wasn’t too bad. he got to read, smoke, and read more.

one night, he’d saved the life of a guy who’d been cornered by some inmates. turns out he was the son of a guy pretty high up in the gang. he offered a ‘get out of prison’ card to ford but he declined. the outside world didn’t appeal to him.

until news reached him that the gang had found his girlfriend. immediately he asked to be let out. it took a while but by the time he got out things weren’t how he expected.

she was too far gone. a splitting image of his mother. when he found out that they had a kid, and that the kid was no where to be found, he thought it’d be the end of their relationship. but he couldn’t bring himself to give up on her.

she was a hooker and he’d spent his days trying to protect her, save her from herself. until one day it all got too much and he drove himself mad. a customer laid hands on her and ford murdered him.

caito and his gang came to ford’s protection. but everything came at a price. he began working for the gang officially and it only felt natural to do so - he couldn’t find a job anywhere else, and since his release he’d been doing small jobs to get by here and there.

she died from an overdose not long after. we don’t talk about it.

now he mostly works as a guard to the escorts/strippers. and the odd job here and there during the day. he prefers working on his own.

PERSONALITY:

he’s not angry. or sad. or anything. he’s just tired and pretty over it.

not a man of many words. talks with his eyes and incoherent grumbles: stop talking, step away, can you pass me the salt, this coffee is too hot, do you want my jacket, are you okay...

one cool, calm, collected, callous, cold c*nt. all the c’s. oh and a clean freak.

doesn’t get drunk, doesn’t do drugs. what a bore. v strict with himself. has a set of rules and sticks to them, expects others to do the same or at least respect them.

v patient but has zero tolerance. no manners, raised by rabid dogs lbr.

has a 2g phone. seriously a granddad. likes quiet, peace, serenity. wants to get things done as quickly and as cleanly as possible. doesn’t actually like having to resort to violence but it’s rly the only thing he knows.

likes wood carving. has a collection of ornaments he’d carved. honestly would probably even like knitting if he’d give it a chance tbh.

has just learned to detach himself from everything. lowkey dissociating half the time. honestly has no sense of humour.

super private. u aint gettin anything out from him about his past or personal life. loljk he has no personal life.

POTENTIAL PLOTS:

he doesn’t rly have friends. ppl he’s used to maybe. ppl who understands he likes his space and the way he works. fellow soldiers that just like to get the job done? not sure how long that’ll last bc we lov begrudging friendships in this house.

pls gimme ppl that will annoy the heck out of him. leon and matilda vibes. he’s a baby sitter lbr.

he ain’t no ho but he still got needs. one night stands onli. feel like he used 2 fuck ppl in the gang but has made a rule not to anymore cos he cbf for messiness. (we’ll see)

someone that is able to get him to him maybe? bring out the fire in him, make him lose his shit bc when he does he loses his control. and he likes being in control of himself. hence no drinking 2 much.

enemies - anyone who’s a bit psycho and trigger happy, he ain’t gonna get on with u. i feel like he’s sent on jobs to keep them lot in check.

someone that can actually get him to talk? they could have nice simple random conversations about absolutely nothing but will take a certain character (iono what that is yet pls i’m useless)

if you’ve made it this far then i’m sorry. it’s obvious i just have no idea whAT IM DOIN AND IONO Y U CARRY ON WIT THIS MESS OF A RAMBLE.

if u wanna plot like this post and i’ll message u :D or if u wanna message me first that’s grand too >:))))

#valdez.intro #tw death #tw addiction #tw drugs #tw murder #tw violence #tw abuse #tw imsobadatintroskillme #this took me far 2 long #imm #a stop editing it n0w

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plantbased-elise · 6 years

Text

Cheers for Queers

Back for another fic. I wrote this for the phandom reverse bang @phandomreversebang. The art was made by @thebabiesarentokay. The fic was beta’d @danceswithsweaters.

I hope you all enjoy this fic! Go check out the art. It is absolutely amazing!

Wattpad AO3 ART

The air around him smelled of freshly baked pastries, coffee and rain. The café was nearly empty, as it was nearing tea time, in the middle of summer holidays. Apart from Phil, there was a family of four sat around a round table at the other side of the café.

The rain was falling down, steady but forceful. It streamed along the old London streets and pooled where the pavement was no longer at level. Phil sighed whilst staring out the window, putting off leaving the comfort of the café.

He started towards the toilets, drawing out the time a little more by using the loo. He was hoping that by the time he got back it would’ve stopped raining. As much as one could hope, it was still London and it rained so often and it was unlikely for it to stop in five minutes.

As he made his way to the back of the café, he heard a small uproar at the table of the family. He ignored it in favour of respecting their privacy.

When he returned, the family was gone. Lydia, owner of the café and a close friend of Phil’s, was already placing the chairs on the tables.

“Hey Phil, thought I saw your umbrella in the umbrella stand. You should’ve seen that family leave. The father nearly threw the money at me, the son was outside in tears before the rest of the family had even stood up. The daughter was just looking at the floor.”

Phil snickered. Lydia had the habit of telling him about strange situations at the café.

“What story did you think of for them?”

Another habit of Lydia’s was to make up stories about the strange situations, which would often take a turn for the magical, taking the shape of myths about dragons, even beyond Phil’s imagination.

“Dad forgot he had cookies in the oven. The mom had a bad client at work. The son has lost his fairy wings and the daughter is still learning how to breathe fire.” Lydia was wiping the counters, her face straight and her voice level.

Phil shook his head and took his umbrella from the umbrella stand.

“How do you still have a business in baked goods? You would do great as a writer. See you tomorrow!” He opened the door to the café, sighing at the rain still pouring down.

As he closed the door, he heard Lydia call out, “Bye!”

Stood under the protection of the overhang, Phil opened his umbrella. The noise of the rain seemed to drown out the entire world. Just as Phil turned to walk down the street, he noticed someone sitting under the hangover, on the pavement, huddled against the building.

It was the boy from the café. Now that Phil got a closer look at him, however, he realised that this man was around his own age. He was curled into a ball, his shoulders seemed to be shaking slightly. His face was turned away from Phil but his hands were in his hair, tugging at it.

“Sir are you okay?” Phil approached the huddled figure, “No, of course you aren’t. Stupid of me to ask. Do you need help?”

The man looked up. Tearstained blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed brown eyes stared up at Phil.

“C-could you help me up. I can’t really feel my legs.” The man’s voice was quiet, nearly drowned out in the rain. He held out his hand for Phil to latch on to. Just as Phil was about to do just that, he noticed how the other’s hands were shaking. He clasped their hands together and pulled it towards himself.

The man came up willingly, and even though when he stood at full height he was taller than Phil, he was light and easily pulled up for someone who didn’t really work out.

When he stood on both his legs, they seemed to shake for a moment. Phil reached out his arm and wrapped it around the man’s waist for support.

“I’m Phil.” He said. He felt the strange urge to protect this man, who had been sitting so lonely on the pavement.

“I’m Dan, nice to meet you. I’m sorry to inconvenience you.” Dan tried to push himself away from Phil’s supporting arm, but the latter only tightened his hold, just enough to stop Dan from moving away.

“You know, I love the rain, but hate how wet it makes me. I wish I could just look at the rain through a glass bubble,” Phil rambled.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Phil asked, mildly concerned about this handsome stranger.

Dan shook his head softly. He kept his eyes slightly downcast, never quite looking Phil directly in the eye.

“Do you want to walk with me for a bit?” Phil offered. Dan nodded his head and let himself be led down the street.

He looked at the rain as they walked down the streets of London, moving away from the City towards the suburbs.

“You know that’s what windows are for, right.” Dan had dried his tears and was looking up at Phil, smiling with an amused glint in his eyes. His eyes still looked a little watery, and red, but they seemed to have regained a certain spark that wasn’t there minutes before. “Looking outside without having to partake in it.”

They crossed the road, narrowly avoiding a car that ran a red light, but not without Dan loudly swearing at the driver.

“You’re not taking me away to kill me, right?” he asked suspiciously, moving closer to Phil to avoid a large puddle. Only, instead of just gracefully sliding aside, he stumbled over his feet and tripped into the other. His chest collided painfully with Phil’s boney shoulder.

“Ouch!” Dan hissed, rubbing his sternum, more out of shock than out of pain. It seemed that he always got himself into awkward situations.

“Oh, sorry. Are you okay?” Phil’s hand shot up, only to retract hesitantly as to not touch a near stranger.

“Yeah I’m fine. Where are we going?” Dan was curious as to where Phil was leading him.

“Well I’m cold and you’ve been shivering the whole time. If you don’t mind, We’re on our way to my apartment.

As he looked sideways at Dan, he came to a halt in front of his apartment complex. He fumbled for his keys, his wet skinny jeans sticking to his legs.

The lock sprung open and a warm rush of air fell over the two men. “God, this is what I needed!”

---

“Make yourself at home,”Phil said, directing Dan’s attention to the comfortable-looking sofa in the living space. “I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

Dan looked around the apartment. The walls were decorated with paintings and posters, each one nerdier than the last. This man seemed to be the perfect combination of good-looking and kind. He was handsome, with a frame that was perfectly proportioned. His black hair contrasted perfectly with his pale skin.

“So I could only find my superman pyjamas and my emoji pyjamas. No judging, they’re very soft. And clean.”

Dan laughed as the offensively yellow trousers were thrown towards his head. He accepted the tea Phil handed him and took a tentative sip to test the sweetness.

“Perfect.” He couldn’t help but sigh, feeling warmth seep back into his body.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you crying earlier? You don’t have to answer.” Phil was looking at him over the glasses he’d put on and… fuck. Dan was definitely fucked.

“No it’s okay. It was shock more than the actual event. I was in the café with my parents and brother. They were visiting for the weekend. And I thought it was finally time to come out to them.” Dan sighed and took another sip of tea. “I really don’t know what I was expecting. My dad has been openly homophobic as long as I can remember, and my mom comes from a conservative religious family. I knew their reaction wasn’t going to be positive. I guess I feel worse because of my brother Alex. He just wants to start transitioning, but our parents would never allow it. He’s almost done with high school and he’s going to move out here as soon as possible. He hates that our parents call him Alexandra and that his school doesn’t recognise his preferred pronouns.”

For a while silence hung in the room. Dan sipped his tea and Phil looked at the man sitting on his couch. Phil nodded, encouraging Dan to continue.

“I guess something I’m more worried about is how I’m going to help him. I’m 26, and still in university. How can I help him find a place?”

Dan looked at his phone, which he had placed on the table. The time it showed was 11:33 PM.

“Shit, I’m sorry for bothering you. Thank you for the tea and the pajama bottoms,” Dan said as jumped up from his place on the couch. He didn’t really wanting to leave, but he felt like he had overstayed his welcome.

“Wait! I want to give you my number. That way I can return your jeans once they’re dry and you can give me back my pajamas. You can text me whenever. I’ll help you out. Or just talk to you.”

Phil put his phone number into Dan’s phone, before handing it back to him, secretly feeling grateful that he had managed not to drop it.

“What’s your last name?”Dan asked. “I have a Phil form uni in my phone and I don’t want to confuse you two.” Dan didn’t know why he felt so drawn to this guy, who he had met whilst crying in the rain. He was putting a lot of trust in a stranger.

“Oh, I never told you. It’s Lester, spelled L-E-S-T-E-R.”

The brunet hummed to himself. Funny, he thought he’d heard that name before. He shrugged it off, in favour of following Phil to the door.

“I hope to talk to you soon Dan. Goodnight, sleep tight.” Dan waved as this gorgeous man closed the doors, seeing the glimpses of a smile through the last crack of the door.

----

03.46 Am Unknown number

Now i know where i’ve heard your name before. You’re a radio presenter for BBC Radio 1.

08.36 Am Phil Lester

You caught me! Radio presenter by day, taking care of cute guys at night!

Oops that came out wrong!

I meant cute boys like you. Giving them some tea.

‘Smooth as always, Phil,’ Phil thought to himself. He sat his phone down on the counter in favour of picking up his mug of coffee. After looking at his phone for a few more minutes he left to go to work.

---

He was supposed to be coming up with ideas for the next big show he was going to do, but he was getting distracted by Dan sending him pictures of dogs and memes throughout the day. Around 1:00pm, just as he was going on lunch break, an idea hit him like a ton of bricks.

He rushed back to his computer, frantically typing up the idea in a text document, before sprinting off to the lunchroom before the pizza was gone.

Cheer for all those who are queer!

‘Being LGBT+ isn’t always easy. You’re always going to have to fight against the people that won’t accept you for who you are. What can we do to help make it a little easier and no longer taboo?’

The description blinked back at Phil from the front page of the BBC Radio 1 website. His boss had approved the idea instantly, and told him to gather some people he wanted with him on stage. On his quest he’d ended up on YouTube, looking for some of the most significant British LGBT+ YouTubers. He’d gathered a short list, and even got Tyler Oakley to fly out, who was more than happy to help Phil present.

There were just two people left on his list who he had to ask if they wanted to be there.

----

Dan burst out laughing as Phil fell off the track again. “Honestly, Phil, how can you be so bad at Mario Kart?”

Phil pouted at Dan as he crossed the finish line. “You’re just too good at this game. I demand you play blindfolded next round.” He giggled as Dan pumped his arm in victory, as if it was such an unexpected outcome.

“Kinky,” Dan muttered, “didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Phil giggled with pink cheeks. “You do that, bossy.”

This had been happening since they met. The playful comments and actions, borderline flirting, or even downright flirting. Little touches that sent sparks flying, comment that could only be interpreted in so many ways, and most of them not platonic.

Dan’s phone dinged with Alex’s special ringtone. He picked up his phone from the couch, eyes skimming over the message .

“Alex asks if he can come by this weekend to check out some housing options. Would you be okay with that?” Dan looked up hesitantly. They’d planned to go to Infinity War on Saturday, and he hated having to blow off Phil.

“Dan, of course that’s okay. When are his exams over again? He can come down as soon as his last exam is over, and stay as long as he wants. I like him.”

Dan texted his brother that it was fine, before dropping his phone back on his lap. He worried his lip between his teeth. “Phil,” he said.

“Hmm, what?” Phil hummed staring at the Television in concentration. His tongue was poking out slightly, and his eyes glinted with glee as he watched the Mario Kart characters race across the screen. (Dan had no idea how he missed Phil putting on a game of Mario Kart.)

“Earth to Dan? You look a little off. Are you feeling alright?” Phil’s blue eyes were focused on Dan and fuck, couldn’t he stop being so perfect for just one second. His face was so close.

“Oh, just wanted to ask if it’s really fine. I know you really wanted to see Infinity War this weekend.”

Phil’s face lit up as he smiled, oh so reassuring. “Dan, I want to see Infinity War, yes. But, I also want to you to help your brother,” he said softly. “I did want to ask, when Alex is done with school is he moving out here before his graduation ceremony?”

A giggle fell from Dan’s lips, unexpected and high-pitched. “Yes he is, just wants go back for graduation and then leave Wokingham behind. Why do you ask?” he looked into those blue eyes with a curious look on his face.

“No reason, just asking.”

After this admittedly strange exchange, they both returned their attention back to Free! where Haruka was about to dive into the pool.

---

“Do you see Alex? What am I saying, you haven’t met him, how would you know what he looks like. God, I hope he didn’t miss the train. What if he got stuck somewhere halfway...” Dan was rambling, so obviously nervous for nothing. He was running his hands through his hair, tugging on it to.

“Dan, calm down. Alex texted you ten minutes ago that he was almost here. The train hasn’t been announced yet. He’ll be fine. He’s a smart guy. Just take a breath.” Phil gently pulled Dan’s hands away from his head.

To anyone else on the station, they looked like a couple. Standing close, in their own bubble. Reading into each other, and responding perfectly. Alex observed them from a little ways away. Dan’s brother seemed so happy, for the first time in a long time. Alex didn’t want their bubble to burst, but it was pretty busy on the platform and he was in the way.

“Dan! Over here!” he waved his arms in the air, for emphasis. Dan looked up in shock, a blush rising on his cheeks. He smiled wildly when he met Alex’ eyes. He sprinted to him, and hugged him to his chest. Their difference in height was almost comical. Dan stood at 1.91 meters and Alex stood at a mere 1.55 meters.

Phil approached slowly, giving the two brothers some time alone. The scene was a sight to see, two people so similar in appearance standing in the middle of the station. This morning when they’d left for the station, Phil had brought his camera, for no particular reason. Now it seemed more than just a whim or coincidence.

He took the camera and zoomed in slightly, focussing on the two brothers embracing in the crowd. He made a mental note to edit the picture to make the people surrounding them blur.

“Did you just take a picture of us?” Dan looked at him, having just released his brother. He was grinning at Phil, an arm still slung over his brother’s shoulder.

“Alex, meet Phil, who takes pictures of people instead of properly greeting them. Phil, this is Alex, who you’ve already scared off.”

Alex grinned, and held out his hand for Phil to shake. “Don’t worry, I lived with Dan when he was in his emo phase. Nothing can scare me anymore. Except maybe when he made his first skirt, and it ripped whilst we were visiting our grandma. He was just standing there, in his undies, completely mortified. Best day of my life!”

Dan was blushing furiously now, and hit Alex in the arm repeatedly. He attempted to say ‘shut up’ over the other two’s laughter. Eventually giggles started escaping from his mouth too.

“Come on, we have a lot to do today.” Phil lifted the bags and started towards the exit of the station.

---

“So, Daniel, when where you going to tell me you found a man? Thought I raised you better than this.” Alex grinned devilishly. He dodged the half-arsed punch his brother threw at his shoulder. He turned left to the apartment they were viewing.

“Shut up! He is not my man. As much as I want to...” Dan was interrupted by his brother’s scream. He turned in concern, only to see his brother staring at him with a look of utter joy.

“You like him! Oh I am going to have the greatest time here!” Alex stopped when they reached the right address. The apartment complex was rundown, trash was resting against the wall.

“Alex, I don’t think you’ll want to live here. The wall over there says ‘Queers must Die!’. This is not the right place for you.” Dan stirred them around and away from the building. Looking around the neighbourhood, it seemed like those type of exclaims were all over the buildings.

“Well, then I have nowhere to go. This is the only thing I can afford near campus. Dan, what am I going to do?” Alex looked a little panicked. His breathing picked up in speed, and his legs grew a little weak. “I can’t go back to mum and dad. They want a daughter, I’m not their daughter. I don’t want to be seen as their daughter.” His hands were in his hair, tugging on the strands that came out from under his beanie.

“Alex, breathe. It’s going to be okay. We’ll find a way. You will never have to feel like that again. Come on, we’re going to Phil’s and relaxing for the rest of the night.” Dan led him to the nearest tube station, rubbing his back soothingly. Alex had been having panic attacks since he was in his early teens. Dan came to know that it was mostly induced by his dysphoria.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a text to Phil that they were on their way. He didn’t know why, but he felt he needed to go to Phil’s house, not his own home. He’d been spending so much time there, it almost felt like a second home.

Phil

Is everything okay? Thought you were going to be out till late checking out houses. 1.36 PM

Phil, always so considerate, always so wonderful. Dan really was fucked.

Phil

Text me when you’re near. I’ll get the snacks and movie set up. 1.38 PM

Dan

About five minutes away. Thank you. 1.41 PM

---

They were settled on the couch, all eyes on the television. Occasionally the crackling of a crisps bag sounded, or the crunching of crisps sounded in the room.

The peace was disrupted by Dan’s phone ringing. He picked up the call. After a rushed conversation, Dan stood up rapidly. He looked a little frantic. “That was one of my classmates. I share a workspace with him at Ravensbourne. Someone spilled coke over my final project. I have to go see if I can save it, otherwise I’m fucked.”

He was out of the flat in minutes, mumbling about stupid first years. Phil and Alex looked at one another one the couch, mostly confused. Phil reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“So you do have any more embarrassing stories about Dan that I can tease him about? I need some good material.”

Alex grinned wickedly. He looked so much like Dan, it was almost scary. He launched into stories about Dan’s teenage years.

“So, at eighteen, our parents wanted Dan to study law at Manchester. He didn’t agree and when he said he was going to Manchester to apply, he was actually on his way to Ravensbourne University, London. By the time our parents found out, he was well into his second year, and had a very promising internship at a fashion design company. Our parents were never the most involved parents out there, but they cared. It wasn’t until they found out about Dan’s ambition that it took a turn for the worse. They nearly cut all contact with him. During that time, I started living outside of our home more and more. I slept over at friends, family and tried to be home as little as possible.” Alex took a deep breath. Somehow they’d ended up talking about the Howell siblings’ parental situation.

“Dan reached out to me, and begged me not to say a word to our parents. He helped me discover me, and came up with the name Alex. Then, half a year ago, mum and dad reached out to Dan. they wanted to catch up with him. So we set up a day where we would come down to London. That’s how we ended up at the café. Then Dan came out, and everything crashed. I’m not allowed to go out, and they are convinced I’m in Liverpool with one of my friends to look into the university options. Dan gave me an out. He gave me a way to freedom. But my finances are in the way. The neighbourhood that’s close to my new school is homophobic, has slurs written on every wall. It’s the only place I can afford that is within traveling distance.”

A silence fell over the two. Phil was racking his brain. There was something on the edge of his brain, an idea forming gradually.

“I might have just found a way to solve your housing problem. I have three bedrooms in this flat. I don’t know why I ever bought it. I wanted to turn one into an office, but that wasn’t necessary. One of them is a guest bedroom, and one is just empty. I’ve been thinking about getting a flatmate. I just don’t want a stranger living with me. Would you maybe move in? If you want you can pay some sort of cost of living.”

Before the last sentence was properly out of his mouth, Alex launched himself across the couch and threw his arms around Phil.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! God, you don’t know how good a person you are.”

Phil blushed and hugged the boy back. “I do want to ask you something else, but I’ll wait until Dan gets back.”

As if on cue the front door opened. (Phil had given Dan a spare key because Phil’s tendency to lose his keys occurred frequently.) Dan shouted out ‘I’m back’ and let the door fall in the lock.

“So I managed to save my garment, and not kill the first year who spilled the coke. Are you proud of me yet?” he came into the lounge, hair tousled like when he ran his hands through it too much. Why did Phil now that he’d done that. Maybe because he’d seen him do it so much. He looked exhausted, and frankly, kind of adorable.

“Dan! Right on time. Phil has offered to take me in as flatmate. Also he wanted to ask us both something, so shut up and sit down.” Alex pushed his brother down on the sofa between himself and Phil.

“So, I’m working on a new project at the BBC. They want me to host a special, and I can decide what it’s about. I’ve got an idea set up, and invited several guests to be there too. Wait I have the website on my laptop…” Phil fumbled around with his laptop for a few minutes before turning the screen towards the two Howells.

Cheer for all those who are queer!

Dan’s breath hitched, and then he looked up at Phil. “you invited UK’s most well-known LGBT+ YouTubers, and they’re going to be there to speak?! That’s amazing Phil, congrats!”

Phil swallowed and smiled gratefully at Dan. “I want to start the conversation on acceptance from family and how this is a topic that’s kept under wraps. I wanted to ask you two if you want to accompany me, talk about your personal situation, and help me present the whole thing. I never had to deal with unaccepting parents. When I came out as bisexual, they were accepting. I don’t want to be /that/ person that gives tips whilst knowing absolutely nothing.” Phil took another deep breath.

“So would you do me the honour of presenting ‘Cheer for all those who are Queer!’ with me?”

Dan looked between the screen and Phil, mouth gaping. “You want me, a fashion major, who is the most unknown person in Britain, to host a radio special?! You are insane! Yes, I’ll do it.”

Alex looked up hesitantly. “I’d love to, but when is the special. I can’t do it before graduation. Mum and dad don’t know yet.”

“That’s why I asked my boss if I could do it after your official graduation. He agreed. We can get you settled and then we’ll do the actual special.” Phil smiled oh so softly, eyes shining.

Before anything else could be said or done, Dan tackled Phil into a hug, throwing them both onto the side of the sofa unoccupied. Alex wolf whistled loudly, but Dan ignored it in favour of saying what he’d been thinking for a while now.

“Phil, you are the best person I’ve met in a long time. God, what would we Howells do without you? I love you.”

Dan stiffened, his hold on Phil going tense. Alex coughed and Phil grew still. After a short, tense silence, Phil exhaled slowly.

“I love you too.” It was soft, barely above a whisper. Slowly, they pulled back from the hug. Dan turned to look at Alex, only to see him munching on crisps whilst staring at them.

Suddenly laughter bubbled up in Dan’s throat. He barked out a half laugh, before properly dissolving into laughter. Alex nearly choked on his crisps before succumbing to the laughter to it too.

Phil looked between the two Howell brothers, amused yet confused. His grin turned into little giggles which eventually grew into full on laughter.

---

Later in the night, they were watching Ant-man. Phil yawned discreetly, at least what he thought was discreetly. But Dan caught him out on it, only he was judging to soon, as before he could say anything he yawned with his mouth wide open.

“You guys can crash here. I’m not letting you get on the Tube at this hour of the night. Alex I’ll show you what will be your bedroom. Dan, I haven’t cleaned the guest bedroom in a while, so you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Phil got up and gathered the dirty dishes stashed on the coffee table. Dan swiftly got up to help him. Alex was half asleep, mumbling something about making things tiny.

“Absolutely not! You cannot sleep on that sofa. We’ll share the bed. I don’t mind at all.” He put force behind his words by setting down the dirty dishes, maybe a tad too hard. He turned to Phil, who had turned on the tab to start the dishes. Dan lay a hand on his, and pushed the tab closed.

“And you are not doing the dishes right now. We’ll do it in the morning, together. I helped create the dishes, after all.”

Phil just smiled at the man in front of him, looking so different from the one he’d met in front of the café three months ago. His smiled reached his eyes, dimples were etched into his cheeks. He stood up straight, shoulders right and an air of confidence about him that seemed to make him glow.

Phil step forward and pulled him in for a hug. They stood there with their arms around one another for a while. Eventually Dan pulled away, immensely reluctant to release Phil’s warm body.

“Come on, you look like you’re going to fall asleep right here. Let’s go to bed.”

Dan found that he couldn’t defy the softly spoken command.

As the night passed Dan turned from his side of Phil’s bed to the warm body next to him. He had always been a sucker for spooning.

When Phil woke up he felt warm. No, not warm, hot almost uncomfortably so. Almost, but not quite, because of the amazing smell and the soft puffs of air that touched Phil’s face. His arms were wrapped around Dan who was sprawled out partly on top and partly against his side, in a weird way. Somehow, it was comfortable, because he was fast asleep and occasionally hummed under his breath.

Phil laid there, content to be in this moment. He felt so much for the man that sleeping so close to him. He wanted him to have everything he needed.

After a while of Phil creepily staring, Dan started to wake up. First his humming became more of a soft groaning, then he started to breathe deeper.

“Good morning, handsome.” Phil didn’t know where the nickname had come form, but he damn sure didn’t regret it.

“Mmm, right back at you,” Dan mumbled, face now pressed directly into Phil’s bare chest. Phil slept without a shirt most nights, except when it was freezing out.

He looked up from his comfortable spot, into Phil’s bright eyes, intensified by the morning sun coming in.

“God, can you not look so beautiful when you wake up?!” Dan sounded almost offended, yet it was massively outweighed by the fondness and utter adoration in his voice.

“Says the model. You look like you’re doing a photoshoot, not like you’ve just woken up. I just want to kiss the sleep off your face.”

Dan’s breathing hitched. “What’s stopping you? Not me.”

Phil leaned forward and captured Dan’s lips between his own. Like everything else about the blue-eyed man, his lips were soft and warm, delicate and somehow even caring.

A whine left Dan’s throat before he responded, if a bit too eager. Phil slowed him back down, till they were kissing softly, dare Dan say, lovingly.

Their lips disconnected, but before either could pull away completely, Phil pecked Dan’s lips once. “We should get up. I want a good bowl of cereal.”

So they wandered into the kitchen. Dan decided to let Alex sleep for a little bit. He deserved it.

Sat at Phil’s kitchen table, spooning cereal, whilst occasionally smiling at Phil, made Dan feel so warm inside.

“So, I wanted to ask you. Would you want to be my boyfriend?” Phil smiled slightly as he asked.

Dan dropped his spoon into the bowl, staring up in awe at his friend... no boyfriend. “Yes. God I’ve wanted to hear that so bad.” He reached for Phil’s hand across the table and smiled fondly at him.

“Ugh, gross! Get a room you two.” Alex stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a mixture of amusement and disinterest on his face.

“Fuck off Alex!”

----

“Good afternoon Britain, and welcome to BBC Radio One. I’m Phil Lester and I’ll be hosting a special event today. ‘Cheer for all those who are Queer!’. Presenting alongside me are Dan Howell and Alex Howell….”

Dan smiled at his boyfriend as he chatted away to a room full of people, and a large portion of the population of Britain.

God he was lucky.

#prb2018 #prb18 #phandom #Phanfic #phanfiction #phan #strangers to friends to lovers #friends to lovers #writing

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