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crazycookiecrumbles · 2 years

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Meatball Hero

Masterlist

A/N: Second to last chapter! This will conclude the main story and the final chapter will be an epilogue, I think

Pairings/Characters: Frank Castle x Reader, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Steve Rogers

Warnings: violence, gore, wrist cutting, beatings, tony’s annoying mouth, peter and steven being big ass dorks

Summary: Can Frank fight his own nature and instinct to kill when it comes to you, or is the whole world doomed?

Previous Chapter: McNuggets

WC: ~6k

You and Tony struggled, but you made it. You both felt like shit, but you were in a rush, and you needed to make sure you got there before Marc did, because you knew he didn’t have any issue with not sparing Frank for the greater good.

When the two of you arrived at the museum, you parked the car and sat there for a moment just looking around. Everything seemed so peaceful. There were kids and their families walking around without a care in the world, tourists taking pictures of all the sights, and then there was Tony, sitting in the back, pouting like a child.

“I should’ve put up another suit in space closer to this hemisphere,” Tony mumbled. “Can’t believe I let you talk me out of it.”

“I’m the one that told you to do exactly that, and you called me a square and not to worry so much,” you turned to glare at your father who blinked twice before shrugging.

“Okay. No need to brag about your great ideas,” Tony scoffed as he leaned forward from the backseat and rested his chin on your shoulder. “You should call one of them, see how close they are. We need to make a timeline, and knowing Peter, he’s probably been on Instagram this entire time, so, tracking won’t matter.”

“…God damn it,” you muttered and took out your phone. With a quick press of a few buttons, you held the phone up and put it on speaker.

“Hey, Y/N!” Peter’s excited voice came through. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” you said, listening to the background noise that was indescribable to you. “What am I hearing?”

“Oh, that ‘whooshing’ thing? Frank kind of drives like a maniac,” Peter explained. “I’ve never been in a car going this fast before. I almost threw up! Also, I’ve never stolen a car before. Hey, listen, I know it’s super wrong and a bad thing to do….but I kind of feel awesome.”

“Jesus Christ, the kid’s gonna add auto theft to his resume. Well, at least it’s before he’s 18,” Tony sighed.

“Right,” you cleared your throat. “So you’re with Frank, you two are okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. We should be there soon, in, like, an hour, maybe. Will the museum be open?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t really matter. We can always — “

“Another crime! Sick. It’ll be my last crime. I kind of hope we break into the museum so I can add that to my list and then never do this again so — “

“Sweetie, can you put Frank on the phone, please?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Tony watched as you thanked Peter and took the call off speaker. When you brought the phone to your ear, Tony scoffed that you were depriving him of novella-worthy drama. You rolled your eyes and told him to shut up as you turned away from him and waited to hear Frank’s voice.

Meanwhile, Frank took the phone from Peter and exhaled quickly before holding it up to his ear and keeping it there with his shoulder. He cleared his throat, sweat beads suddenly form across his brow as he waited to hear your voice, “Hey, Princess.”

You beamed, heat flooding your cheeks as you curled in on yourself and relished the sound of his voice, “Hey there, stranger. Long time no chat.”

“Yeah,” Frank grunted. “Look, I’m sorry —“

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, “If it weren’t for me —“

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be an emptier, unhappy man,” Frank said quietly, hating how Peter was sitting there pretending like he wasn’t hanging on his every word, but obviously was doing so given how he was closing the windows in the car to better be able to hear him. “Shit happens, Y/N. This? This is a pretty big pile of shit we’ve stepped in, but we’ll get out of it.”

You snorted at his descriptive choice of words and fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Still, it’s my fault. And I know Peter must’ve told you by now what we had to do.”

“He did. And I Want you to do whatever it takes, you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to get you out of this Frank, I promise.”

Franks sighed, “Princess, if you can’t —“

“I will.”

“You can’t let him take over. He’ll destroy everything, he’ll — “

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. But he won’t come out, okay? I’m going to make this right, and I’m going to be the one to protect you, got it?”

Frank snorted to himself, “Buys me pizza, protects me from gods, you’re a special kind of woman.”

“Damn right I am,” you replied. “Get here soon. Okay? Let’s end this. We’ll go on a date, my treat.”

“Nah, my treat, how about that?” Frank grinned. “I’ll see you soon. Here’s the kid. I lo—” he stopped himself when he realized what he was going to say. He couldn’t do that to you, no. It was far too much of a cliche. This wouldn’t be the first time he said that, it couldn’t be. Hell, he could barely believe he was actually even going to say that.

Him?

The last woman he said that to was gunned down at a carousel, and now he almost said it to you before facing a certain death.This was….this was awful. He shouldn’t do this, he couldn’t do it. That was unfair to say, because what if he didn’t make it? Hell, what if you didn’t even think about him in that way and he was just putting the pressure on you? It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. He couldn’t do that to you.

He didn’t.

Without saying another word, he handed Peter the phone.

Peter could feel the tension radiating off of Frank, and said nothing. Instead, he said he was back on the phone to grab your attention.

Meanwhile, you were wondering if you should’ve said something more to Frank, but you didn’t want to jinx what was to come. Then, when he stopped himself, you wondered if maybe you were moving too fast, and the speed was what made him stop. Maybe he felt pressured. Maybe you had feelings for him that weren’t exactly reciprocated yet. Maybe you were just further along in your feelings of this relationship than him. Maybe it was better no one said anything at all. This wasn’t the time nor the place, you all had a mission.

“Peter, I’m going to need you to suit up and be ready,” you began. “I want you hiding like a creepy little spider with the vase until I say so. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded. “Do I tell —“

“No,” you shook your head. “We still need an element of surprise and you’re going to stay the cute little intern who is just along from the ride.”

Peter turned bright pink, “I’m not cute…I’m handsome.”

“That is the cutest thing you’ve ever said.”

“You’re embarrassing me,” he whined, which made you laugh at his anguish. “So…I’ll just text you?”

“Yeah. We’re going to go in first and try to find the entrance to get underground to that old temple, we’ll scout the place out. I’ll see you soon, Peter. Be safe!” You hung up and looked to your dad who was shaking his head.

“Should’ve said you loved him. You know, every drama movie or show would’ve had you say it.”

“Shut up.”

You and Tony prepared the best you could. You cleaned yourselves up, even though you were sure one or both of you had concussions. There was no suit of armor for backup, given that it was still in flight to that location and wasn’t going to be there just yet. Tony, without telling you, made a call for some extra help, but it likely wasn’t going to be there in time either. You still had your whip, he had his blaster, and you had a knife left behind in the hotel room by Frank, and the two of you were just going to have to deal with what you had the best you could.

After a little while, the two of you entered the museum. Tony immediately went straight to the gift shop to see if there was anything he could buy for Pepper. He was humming to himself and going through a selection on the countertop when you walked over and elbowed him in the gut. He hissed that he was being perfectly normal and casual while you were being an ‘annoying try-hard.’ A smack to the back of his head reminded him that you were being a ‘try-hard’ for a very specific reason.

As the two of you strolled through the museum and looked around, you noticed a heavy metal door that when you walked by it, you could feel a strong gust of wind blowing underneath the crack in the door. You nodded to Tony who studied the door quickly and seemed to nod in agreement with you that that could be a potential opening.

“You know what would be funny?” Tony leaned against the wall casually while you began to text Peter, “If everyone in here was actually a cult member and not just an employee. How hilarious would that be?”

“Given how fucked up we both are from that crash? Not very, dad,” you muttered.

Tony hummed, “That’s a pity, because I think you could use a laugh right now.”

“I just don’t see how that’s funny at a time like this,” you put your phone away and looked up to see what Tony had mentioned was actually coming true. The employees of the museum, which now, suddenly, seemed very empty, were walking towards the two of you and cornering you.

“I hate you,” you sighed. “I really, really hate you.”

“Eh, relax. We can take them,” Tony replied.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank didn’t park by the museum. He ditched the car a quarter of a mile away. Peter and him walked side by side, Frank’s head on a swivel as he watched every single person to make sure they weren’t trying to attack him or Peter. Meanwhile, Peter was completely calm and casual as he walked alongside him and simply relied on his spidey senses.

As they approached, Frank took Peter behind a tree behind the museum and dropped his duffel bag on the ground. Frank took off the jacket he had been wearing, dropped it on the bag, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he pulled out his bulletproof vest and studied it for a moment.

“I can’t believe she let you take that,” Peter remarked.

“Well,” Frank cleared his throat. “She doesn’t have to know. Here, you wear it.”

“What? I can’t! You need it. I — “

“Kid,” Frank looked around before settling a hand on his shoulder. “That museum right there? Trap.”

“How do you know?”

“It said it was closed, but it’s business hours, and I bet if you call Y/N she won’t answer. Plus, they’ve got guys on the windows and security is keeping people off the steps.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “You stay out here and keep that vase and your ass safe, got it? When it’s safe, when it’s cleared out, we’ll tell you to come in. Okay?”

Wow, this was even easier than he thought. Peter nodded enthusiastically and looked behind Frank before looking back at him, “You’re not going to kill anyone, right?”

Frank groaned, “No. Even though it’d be easier.”

“So, like, do you even know how to sneak then?”

“You’re a real smart ass kid, you know that? You sound just like Y/N.”

Peter shrugged, “I think she copies me because I’m pretty cool.”

Frank blinked, “Yup. Sure.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head and nodded, “Okay. You be safe. If anything happens to you, I’m fucked. You can throw a punch, right?”

“I knocked out that guy in the bathroom!”

“Just let me see. Do you know what to do if someone’s got a knife to you?”

“I’m fine—“

Frank wanted to prove that Peter wasn’t fine and that he should listen to him and take a moment to practice. Peter surprised Frank when the man pretended like he was going to stab him in the gut. Peter slapped Frank’s hand down, deflected his other hand, and shoved Frank back with just a little bit of his strength, surprising the man who looked at him in shock.

“I uh, learned a few things,” Peter argued. “School, they had an instructor come in once during gym class. Some kid had gotten mugged. Right outside the school! It was crazy. I don’t remember what it was. Could’ve been money. That makes sense. Honestly, it could’ve been his shoes, shoes are important — “

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Frank said, interrupting Peter’s horrible attempt at a lie. “Just stay here, stay low, and keep quiet, okay?”

Peter nodded, “Okay. And, Frank, be careful, please. Y/N would be really disappointed if something happens to you, and me too! I don’t know about Mr. Stark. He’s hard to read. I bet he’d care.”

Frank snickered, “Thanks, kid. Keep an eye on your phone.”

When Frank went to enter into the museum, Peter quickly made sure no one was around and changed into his suit. He too had a plan: sneak into the museum undetected, and hide until the time was right, except that he didn’t need to rely on his phone to know when. He himself had the perfect plan in mind.

Frank was very careful not to kill anyone was he entered the museum. He realized he had to pull his punches and hold back on his own strength just to knock people out, because this thing inside of him was making him stronger, turning him into the perfect killing machine.

He found the heavy door you had spotted earlier, but it was wide open. It was a dead giveaway that this was a trap. They were waiting for him. They knew he was coming, and because you were nowhere in sight, Frank knew that you were in danger.

He followed the spiral staircase down, finding himself in a cavernous area lit by torches along the walls every couple of feet. He was quiet as he navigated the underground. He realized he was approaching what had to have been the fallen temple remains when he saw broken marble pillars and heaps of stone the closer he got. He was amazed when he entered a clearing and saw a temple in much better condition that he had imagined. The roof was mostly gone and on an angle, one pillar had a massive crack down the middle while the others were missing chunks of them or gone completely, but the building itself was in tact. Frank steeled himself and marched towards it, intent on finding you and maiming whoever had you.

The inside was lit with torches. The floor was dark, dirty, littered with animal carcasses and bones he couldn’t identify. The place stunk of death, and the walkway down to the altar was lined with people hiding under red cloaks, chanting quietly, standing there and waiting for him.

At the end of the aisle at the altar were two people on their knees. Tony was on one side, badly beaten, hands tied behind his back and two people holding him down by his shoulders. Beside him was you, just as hurt with your hands tied behind your back as well. You looked ashamed, upset with yourself for not having seen a trap like this a mile away like you figured Frank must have.

“Let ‘em go,” Frank grunted. “Let ‘em go and you can have me.”

Your head shot up, “No! Are you insane? No, Frank!”

“Ignore her,” Frank said as he walked closer to them. He stopped when a knife was held to your throat, and now Tony was shouting and struggling. “Just ignore her. I’m the vessel, you hear me? I’m the vessel! Let her go and you got me.”

“I would like to do that,” the man holding a knife to your throat said as he lowered his cloak. “But I, as Idean, loyal follower of Ares, understand, you, Mr. Castle, do not play well with others. I cannot simply take your word as promise to us as a vessel.”

Frank looked desperate, and you couldn’t remember seeing that look in his eyes before, not even when you were hurt at that warehouse that led to this entire situation. His eyes were big, his hands were up like he was pleading, and he was struggling with taking steps forward or rushing backwards to prove he wouldn’t attack them and make them hurt you.

“Please, I am begging. I am begging you, not to hurt her,” Frank began.

Idean looked to Frank and sighed, “I just can’t trust you.”

You felt the knife press into your skin and the sting made you wince. You quickly realized what was happening as the blade started to drag from one side of your neck. You were frozen in pain as you realized you were going to bleed out in front of Frank, who was going to lose his mind and kill everyone in the building before moving on to the world.

The blade stopped suddenly, and Idean collapsed to the ground. You looked down to see a small, tiny throwing knife embedded in his eye as he hit the ground. The knife in his hand fell to the floor, and you could feel blood slowly dripping from the side of your neck. You looked ahead quickly and saw Frank was standing perfectly still. Soon he was huffing and puffing, and when he looked at you, his eyes were glowing bright red.

Frank smirked as he stood taller. Finding his shirt confining, he ripped his shirt starting at the collar. It tore down his chest and he ripped off the rest of it, leaving him to stand there in his utility pants and boots and pound on his chest twice, “My loyal followers,” he began, in a voice you couldn’t recognize, “It’s time. Kneel before your conqueror, for I have returned.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay, good,” Tony breathed as he studied you. “He just missed the artery.”

“Yeah, and Frank didn’t miss,” you snapped. “Dad —“

“I know,” Tony nodded. “Underoos!”

Nothing happened. Instead, Frank whipped around and stared at Tony curiously. Tony laughed nervously and looked around for a certain someone ,but couldn’t find him.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Sorry, sorry!” You heard Peter’s voice shout as he suddenly ran into the temple, the vase on his back. “I bumped into someone, but before that my fly got caught on my — never mind, you guys don’t need to know that part.”

You sighed to your father, “You brought him here, ya know.”

Frank whipped around to see Spider-Man, which meant absolutely nothing to him at the moment, but when he saw the vase his veins bulged in his body and he pointed at him, “Get my vase!”

“Shit,” you and Tony swore under your breaths.

Peter looked around quickly before jumping in the air and shooting his webs. He needed to be smart. He had to protect the vase, and himself, but he also needed to help you and Tony. Luckily for him, the person he bumped into also had a similar agenda.

Suddenly from behind you, you could hear the cultists that were watching you and Tony groaning. You tried to look behind you but winced and looked ahead instead. The rope behind your back suddenly fell and you were helped to your feet. When you turned around, you saw a man in all white once again. You thought back quickly to remember who was who, and you sighed in relief when you realized who the suit belonged to, “Steven!”

He nodded, two thumbs pointed at him, “Steven with a V! That’s me! Here to help, love. Franklin’s a little bonkers now, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, yeah, real wacky, Mary Poppins,” Tony snapped. “Spider-Man’s got the vase. We have to make sure he doesn’t break it, and we’ve gotta keep Frank from killing, well, all of us since he’s Ares.”

Steven nodded, “Okay. You two are, well, mangled. You stay here, I’ll deal with Franklin!”

Steven rushed down the steps and leapt into the air to kick Frank in the spine. The man didn’t budge. He turned around slowly, tilted his head to the side, and grabbed Steven by the throat before lifting him in the air and slamming him down through the marble floor.

“Ouch,” Steven squeaked.

Tony quickly ripped part of his shirt and wrapped the cloth around your neck to stop the bleeding. You both went to your pile of belongings and grabbed what you had needed while they were all fighting, making sure to hide a knife up your sleeve. Peter was handling the cultists fairly easily, if not slowly to make sure the vase was okay. Tony used the little power left in his blaster to lend a hand, fighting through the pain he was in.

You turned your whip on its lowest setting and slowly stood up, holding onto a wall for support. Frank was wiping the floor with Steven who was trying very, very hard not to hurt him. Steven, having been thrown into another column, held his hand up and pointed a finger to the sky, “One sec, chap. Marc, you’re up, mate.”

Steven’s suit changed, which meant that Marc was now out to play. He went directly for Frank, leaping into the air and bringing a knee to Frank’s face. He ripped off his crescent darts and started slashing at Frank without care. The two were fighting and it was ugly. Frank took a hit that broke his nose, a stab to the gut several times with the darts, and he was still standing like nothing happened. Marc was going to kill Frank and force Ares out that way, and he was going to make sure he did it.

You couldn’t let him.

With your whip on its lowest setting, you grabbed Marc’s wrist as he swung at Frank and yanked him back. Frank used this to his advantage and delivered a devastating blow to Marc’s face that had his head snapping to the side. Another blow from Frank went to his knee, and you used this to yank Marc towards you again. When he was on his side and getting up, you stumbled over to him and held the knife threateningly to him.

“Don’t kill him. I can save him!”

Marc stared up at you, “You think you can stop me?”

“I’ll do what I must,” you replied.

Marc growled, “Then hurry the fuck up.”

You turned away from him and caught a glimpse of the scene. Frank threw Tony into a column, the man landing on the ground and barely able to move. Frank was going right for Peter, so you used your whip to grab Frank’s arm. Frank stopped walking and looked to his bicep. He laughed and yanked hard, which sent you flying towards him. Frank tossed your whip to the side and grabbed you around the throat to lift you clean off your feet.

“You could’ve been useful for breeding, pity,” Frank laughed in your face.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, no…do I have a breeding kink now?”

Ignoring you, Frank slammed you down into the ground. You yelped in pain and grabbed his forearm with one hand, one leg coming up to wrap around his arm as you tried to limit his movements, but it ended up doing nothing, “Frank, Frank, come on. It’s me! The annoying princess, right? Frank?”

There was a flash of those deep brown eyes, and you cried out realizing you had gotten through to him, “Frank!”

“Do it,” He growled, his body shaking violently as parts of him started to glow red and fight against Ares’ hold. “Do it!!! Now!”

“I love you,” you unsheathed the knife hidden up your sleeve and slashed Frank’s wrist. “Vase, now!”

“On it!” Peter swung in quickly and landed after a flip right beside you. He easily grabbed Frank’s shoulder and slammed him down into the ground, missing how Frank stared at him in utter shock as he lay there bleeding. Peter took out the vase and quickly held it to Frank’s wrist to catch the blood. “It’s not enough—hey!” Peter dodged Frank’s other hand coming at him and quickly webbed it down. He saw Frank’s eyes were red again and he scoffed, “Behave, mister.”

“We need more blood,” you breathed as you looked at Frank’s arm before his entire body. He was losing a lot of blood already thanks to his fight with Marc, but he was still going. He was bleeding from every direction, his face was a mess, his body bruised and beaten. You didn’t want to do this, because now you really feared you couldn’t hold up your end of the promise of saving him.

“Cut down his wrist,” Peter said quietly. “The blood will flow more. I—I can web it after, seal it to stop the bleeding. We can do it. It’s okay,” Peter tried to be so supportive as he watched you squeeze Frank’s arm. “I—I’ll do it —“

“No,” you picked up the knife again. “Hold him down. I’ll do it.”

Peter webbed the rest of Frank’s body down, leaving his arm free for you. Frank was fighting against you, so Peter easily pinned his arm down while you sliced down Frank’s wrist and forearm. Around you, Marc and Tony were finishing up with the cultists, all the while you were bleeding Frank dry.

The color drained from Frank’s face, and slowly from the rest of his body. As you watched the blood fill the vase, you noticed how the vase began to glow red from the base of it all the way to the top. When Frank’s bleeding slowed, the vase glowed completely red, the blood absorbing into it, which made the red designs on the clay grow a vibrant color like they had been freshly painted.

Peter quickly webbed Frank’s arm and the rest of his wounds while freeing him. You pushed the vase to the side and scooted over to drag his torso onto your lap while Marc and Tony approached.

“Hey, hey, can you hear me? It’s over, Frank. It’s over. Just hang on, okay? You just have to hang on for me,” you pled with Frank as he lay there completely limp. “Come on you stubborn motherfucker, you can’t die yet. Okay? You’re not dying, Frank! Come on give me something!”

“I’ll get rid of this,” Marc said quietly as he picked up the vase. “Somewhere where no one can get it and this won’t happen again.”

“Probably for the better,” Tony muttered. “Kid—“

“Yeah, Mr. Stark?” Peter looked over to him.

“You’re carrying the big guy.”

“That’s fine. I totally can.”

Marc looked at Spider-Man strangely, head tilting to the side. Suddenly, the suit changed and, once again, Steven was fronting as he rushed over to the young man and grabbed his shoulders, “Oh, my god! Are you the young lad? Peter? Are you the young lad from the museum, the one they keep talking about? That’s you, lad, you’re the little bug boy? Oh, my god, the things you can do! You stopped that man’s fist like it was an infant trying to strike you, that was impressive! Wow, look at you! You’re an impressive one, yeah? Way more than what meets the eye!”

“Oh my fucking god, this guy again,” Tony groaned and stared at the ceiling while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Guys, we need to go.”

“Yeah, right, sorry. I’m just—wow! Good for you, kiddo! Bloody amazing! I hope I don’t have to face you in a fight, but I’m mighty scrappy myself.”

“I saw! You’re really cool, and those dagger things? The crescent stuff?”

“My darts, yeah!”

“So sick!”

“Innit, though!?” Steven beamed. “I like you! You appreciate how cool it is. Marc’s just all, ‘it’s a weapon Steven, not a toy’ and I’m like, yeah, it’s a weapon all right, but it’s a really, really cool one now innit?”

“It sounds like he doesn’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“He definitely never stops to smell the roses enough. If you ask me, he could use a lot more of that,” Steven replied.

“Guys!” You shouted. “This is very cute. You may exchange phone numbers, but we need to go because if Frank dies, I’m coming after all of you!”

“Oh, I believe that,” Peter said quietly before picking up Frank absolutely effortlessly. “Let’s go. She scares me.”

“I’d never hurt you,” you sighed. “I’d embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“See? Scary,” Peter repeated to Steven quietly.

Steven nodded in agreement. The man slipped between you and Tony, put his arms around the both of you, and helped you to walk out of the underground. It wasn’t hard for anyone to see you were in pain. Forgetting the physical pain you had been in, you were very clearly distraught over Frank’s condition. Yes, the man had taken quite a few beatings, yes, he’d basically kissed death, but you’d never seen him look this bad before. This was terrifying. Were you really going to be the one that killed Frank Castle?

As you exited the museum, you felt a strong gust of wind. You all looked to the side to see a quinjet make a quick, rough landing and open up to reveal Steve jogging down towards you all.

“Oh, about time! You’re just extremely late and missed the party,” Tony said as Steve ran over to check on you all.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asked as he noticed Frank. “Is he —“

“Almost,” you said quickly.

Steve nodded to you, “Okay. Let’s get him in the jet and get him hooked up. We’ll make sure he’s stable until we get back to the tower. We’ll stop somewhere if we have to — I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Steve looked to Steven who shrieked.

“Captain America! Big fan! Love your work, love the shield! Hi, my name is Steven with a V! Truly a pleasure.”

“I hate him,” Tony whispered to Steve.

Steve sighed, “You hate everyone, Tony. Steven, it’s nice to meet you. Can we give you a lift?”

“Oh, no, no, that’s my ride over there,” Steven pointed to the white limousine waiting for him. “We’re going to go dispose of this vase, make sure it never happens again and all. Everyone take care! Pleasure working with you all! You know, except when Y/N threw us out the car, I get it, though, goodbye!”

You all watched as Steven ran to the car. Steve looked to all of you and tilted his head to the side, “Did he say ‘us’?”

“It’s a long story, which I can happily tell you as soon as we all get some drugs in us, except the kid, who has not a single scratch on him,” Tony said as you all piled into the jet. “Come on, buck up, Y/N. He’s not dead yet.”

“I actually am losing his pulse,” Peter said quietly as he brought Frank in. “So, whatever we can do for him, let’s do it now.”

“Oh, god, Frank,” you cried.

~~*~*~*~*~~~*~*~*~~~*~*~*~~~

It was a quiet walk by yourself. Everyone left you alone to do what you needed to do in order to feel better. They knew this was a fragile time, and you were just trying to do the best, do everything you could. With a deep breath, you rounded the hallway and entered the familiar medical wing. You nodded to the staff before entering the private room and shutting it behind you, flipping the switch to lower the curtains to give you even more privacy.

Sitting upright in the hospital bed was was Frank, pouting like a petulant child who had gotten his toy taken away from him. Most of his body was in bandages, and 3/4 of his face was still purple and bruised. You sighed as you walked closer to him and sat on the edge of his bed.

“You know, for a fancy tower, I thought, you know, you guys would have something better than this shitty purple jello,” Frank pouted as he put the cup down on the tray and stared at you. “It’s borderline torture, I would know.”

You hummed, “Well, maybe your tastebuds are broken considering you died about four times before we could land near a hospital for you.”

He blinked, “Okay. Fine. I deserved that one.”

“Uh huh,” you smiled softly. “But maybe something would make it taste better.”

“What’s that?”

You removed your hand from your back and slammed a brown bag down on the tray table. Frank stared at you curiously before a familiar smell filled his nostrils. His heart raced, you could hear it on the machine, and you grinned as he grabbed the bag in disbelief and opened it, “Oh, no you fucking didn’t.”

“Oh, yes, yes I did,” you beamed watching him pull out the sandwich from the bag and sniff it while it was still in its wrapping. “Meatball hero from Parm, extra sauce like you like it.”

Frank groaned as he set it down, “God, I fucking love you princess,” he exclaimed as he ripped open the wrapping. When he realized what he had said, his smile faltered slightly and his hand froze in the air before it came down on his tray table for him to drum on. “I uh,”

“You love me, huh, Frank?” You raised an eyebrow as you studied him. “Because I bring you meatball heroes?”

“No,” He muttered and looked down at the table.

“Well, now isn’t this cute? Shy, bashful Frank Castle. My, my, my, have I died and gone to heaven?”

He groaned, “You’re not funny. You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Hmm, yeah, I may be, but I’m a pain in the ass that loves you,” you said, watching as he lifted his head ever so slightly to glance at you through the corner of his eye.

“You um, you what?” He asked, reaching up to scratch his head.

“I love you too, Frank Castle,” you smiled and grabbed his hand. “I love you. I wish I didn’t wait so long to say it, but I do. And if it scares you, too bad, you’re still stuck with me.”

“Ah, like a parasite,” Frank teased, sitting up a little taller, al little more confidently as he held your hand. “I love you, Y/N. You drive me crazy.”

You smirked, “I have that affect on people. Now, you gonna give me a bite of that hero, or what?”

“Oh, no, this is for me. Where’s yours?” Frank asked as he unwrapped the sandwich. “‘Cause this is all mine, because I’m hurt, ya know? Got possessed and all. I need this.”

“You won’t share with me?” You laughed, “Rude!”

“Nah, I’m kidding. Come on, put one of my balls in your mouth,” Frank said as he held up the sandwich to you.

You shook your head, “You’re an idiot, Frank Castle.”

“Yup, just another idiot in love. Go figure,” Frank winked at you around a mouthful of food. He leaned forward, ignoring the pain searing though his body as he reached up to cup the back of your head. He pressed his lips against yours, causing you to giggle from tasting the sauce on your lips as he kissed you. “I love you, Y/N. Thanks for saving my ass.”

“Just returning the favor, babe,” you smiled softly and kissed him on the lips. When he pulled away, you snatched his wrist, brought the sandwich to your mouth, and took a massive bite out of it, making him laugh and yell at you that you were abusing an injured man.

After a few minutes of silence, Frank spoke, “I can’t fucking believe Peter fucking Parker is Spider-Man.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x stark!reader #series: terrible taste in pizza #tony stark #stark!reader #marc spector #steven grant #steve rogers #moon knight #ares #reader #jon bernthal #fic #marvel fic #fanfic #marvel fanfic #series

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brightgnosis · 1 year

Text

My Mother in Law has now decided that the reason the Kitchen has gone the way of the garbage heap isn't directly because no one is doing kitchen duty ... It's now because "we have two magnets for the Dishwasher and it's obviously confused all of us somehow" and that's why no one is doing kitchen duty properly anymore 😡 Absolute freaking nonsense.

For background: We have a magnet on the Dishwasher that's divided in half. The top half says "Dirty", and the bottom half says "Clean"; in theory the way it's supposed to go is that when you put a new load in and start it up, you turn it to "Clean". And whenever it's unloaded, whoever unloads it turns it to "Dirty".

This worked incredibly well for a while because there was a verbal agreement we made that they (mostly my Father in Law) would unload the dishwasher and I would load it, and the little magnet helped us easily keep track of when that was done since we all live on completely different floors.

Except my Brother in Law moved in after his divorce, and somehow, without any consultation at all, it primarily became his "job" to unload the Dishwasher ... Until suddenly it wasn't, because he just completely stopped doing it out of nowhere for some reason?

My Mother in Law constantly makes excuses for him. Her favorite being that it was "because he got a job and his job works him long and odd hours"- which absolutely isn't an excuse in this house because two of us are disabled and the other two work over 50 hours a week minimum and we're all still also still pulling all our weight just fine; in reality, it's because he's legitimately just lazy as hell.

It truly doesn't help, though, that everyone else but me in this house is completely incapable of performing even the most bare basic acts of domesticity ... Like wiping the counter down immediately after spilling something (they will literally let a spill sit there for weeks). Or rinsing the dishes after you're done with them (rinsing? never heard of her). Or even stacking the dishes to begin with so that they're not clogging counterspace (and then they will complain about not having the counterspace to do anything!). Or like, not piling shit in the sink for days on end (no but seriously stop it, it's disgusting and it smells) ????

And so, like, pretty much the second anyone but me touches the Kitchen, it becomes a literal garbage pile on every conceivable surface. And after a whole year of this nonsense, I've just give up entirely; I'm so tired of being literally the only one to actually clean the kitchen in any significant capacity- but especially of watching it get trashed to the seven Heavens within 5 seconds of doing so because no one can do basic tasks. And no one's honoring the agreement we had in place anymore anyways, so why bother?

Which of course led to passive aggressive bullshit like the time she tried to subtly imply that I specifically needed to be the one doing more around the kitchen literally two days after I was the one who deep cleaned it, because all of their dishes had already taken back over everything; meanwhile now I clean my own stuff as I go now, exactly as I use it, with very limited exceptions. Screw their stuff entirely.

But now she's blaming it all on the fact we had two of those stupid little magnets, I guess 🙄 And I just know that my Husband's decision 4 days ago to start unloading the dishwasher for me every single day at 7:00 pm (since no one else in this hell hole will) so that I can finally have some semblance of a life back in this damned house (because we finally figured out that a lot of my lack of motivation and energy is coming from the kitchen and its constant state of hell) is going to be credited to her removing one of them today.

It's so infuriating because none of them can just own up to the fact that they are themselves the disgusting little rat gremlins when it comes to the kitchen; I'm so tired. I just want my own place again.

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littlewalken · 9 months

Text

Jul 28

Well if The Nightmare Man isn't the book I'm looking for then it's back to trying to figure out what is. Meanwhile I found a couple others I read as a kid and would like to read again.

I don't read much fiction but it falls in to these general categories- read it as a kid and want to read it again or is something I would have read as a kid if I knew it existed. Harry Potter because I read it at work and almost used a couple of the larger volumes as weapons. (not today, sometimes a book is just a book). 'Classic' or influential or important but only if I want to read them in the first place, since I stood up to that teacher I had to kill in middle school I won't read anything I don't like. Finally I found a review/summary that makes sense and perhaps this book will be interesting. I liked the movie/TV show and want to read the source material.

That last one has been the only one I've regretted, and not because the book is better or things got lost in adaptation, but a couple of movies I like came from real pieces of shit and like...

I really got to take another screen grab from this. Something Special or Willy/Milly is a sweet little movie that does the best it can for the times. It's a great companion to Just One of the Guys. Y'all want remakes? Y'all want streaming series? Y'all want LGB+ shows? Something Special could use the treatment as long as it doesn't get woke washed as well. I'm pretty damn sure Willy is Jewish and his adventures in white masculinity with that background will do nicely, thank you. Alfie's character arc will take care of a lot of the rest. Seriously, watch the movie.

But don't go looking for the book Hermaphrodiety the movie is very loosely based on. And I mean loose in the idea that the teenage gender change at high school has a million potentials but the author pushed that aside for... All you need to know is it was written by a man who must have had an adult movie catalog and checked off categories as plot points as he went because generally it's just nope.

Yes, that is Pamela Aldon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFkYm4IzY6M (didn't want it to auto play) The guy is Eric Gury who did a few things in the 80s you might recognize him from. And damn do they have chemistry. The casting in this is great.

Got real life to get to today. Which my sleeping could decide what it wants to do with the waking up. Need to finish a move that is entering a rough patch and make myself read a few things.

*And for the sake of keeping track of real life one of the perspective places to live at seems to be out, oh the mobility challenged people wanted the ground floor in a building without elevators?

Someone with ADA ties see if that is even legal in a 3-4 story place.

** The YA book I was looking for is called Circle of Revenge. I was on the right path searching for YA fiction 1980-1990 with brainwashing etc. Ultimately the tag that found it was 'torture fiction' because for some reason if you don't get the dashes just right it doesn't match up to 'brainwashing fiction'. Off to add it to the pile to eventually reread.

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svbatomic · 3 years

Text

someday i will find the inner strength to create a pinned post or a carrd or smth but today is Not that day and neither is tomorrow probably

#it’s so depressing that i literally haven’t even looked into prospective colleges on any level and i’m a month away from the end of jr year #and yet my dumb annoying ass is like #waah i should make a pinned post :((#why am i too lazy to make a pinned post i should put all of my willpower into getting that done :((((#how will my moots know my favourite animals and dream smp characters without a pinned post :((((((((((#meanwhile finals and shit just like . pile up in the background

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micheswife · 3 years

Text

Confessions

MICHE ZACHARIAS X SHY CADET

Miche finally tells his crush he likes her. That's it

Miche watched her from Erwin’s office as she left the headquarters to enjoy a well-deserved break. The evening sun highlighted her brunette curls, stopping just below her delicate shoulders. It was a shame really, her hair used to touch her waist when she first joined. She was so incredibly shy and anxious back then, struggling to find her place among younger people that were much stronger than her. He remembered back when she declined the promotion for the sake of her happiness. It had been 3 years since y/n joined the survey corps at the age of 20. She was a late beginner, but her analytical skills, a fateful emotional meltdown and a background in research had soon gotten her a place under section commander Hange. Y/n was not good as a fighter, but she was observant, more than Erwin and Hange. Miche could not help but notice her, she was cute after all. She had flaws, just like everyone else, but the veteran soldier was drawn to her in particular. He couldn’t remember when he felt like that for the first time. Maybe it was when he saw her for the first time, clutching a soiled handwritten application and trying her hardest to put on a brave face. Who knows? Who cares? The important part was that he liked her, she did not know and he was not going to tell.

“What are you looking at Miche? “

“N-nothing, Erwin. Go on…”

Miche went back to focusing on the meeting. y/n had already disappeared in the next lane, so there was no point looking outside. The meeting would go on for hours, as usual, veterans had no holidays.

Meanwhile, y/n made herself comfortable near the quiet riverbank. It was one of the few attractions in the little land of Paradis, especially after the fall of Wall Maria. The serene river glowed red under the now darkening sun rays. Y/n had about 30 minutes to draw something, after which it would get too dark. Problem was, y/n had no idea what to draw. So she just sat there, wondering about her life. It seemed self-indulgent to refuse work only to get out and ponder about herself, but she needed it. The chaos inside the headquarters hardly did her any good. She wanted quiet and peace, but what she had right now was just pure loneliness. Y/n had friends, but nobody close or free enough to sit under the open night sky. So she sat all alone over the wall, the cold breeze ruffling her hair. If only there were someone to hold her.

“Bottomline, all of you must prepare your squads for next month’s expedition. We can’t afford to compromise manpower. Pay attention to the weak members, we need them to come back alive. You all are dismissed.”

Miche walked out of Erwin’s office and went straight to his room that he shared with Dieter, another squad leader. He felt tired, as though he knew what was about to come. A lot of action and a shit ton of casualties, not to forget all the rigorous training he was about to deliver on the cadets.

“What a long day..”

“Tomorrow’s going to be longer, Ness.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you will make it through the expedition?”

Miche scrunched his nose at the odd yet totally reasonable question. Him and Dieter served the scout regiment since their teenage years, yet they never quite got used to the anxiety before impending doom. Against his overbearing stress, Miche gave him a positive answer hoping to lift his spirits.

“I will make it out alive, Ness. The most damage I will end up with is a lost limb, after which I will retire and live a peaceful life. Don’t worry.” Miche finished with his signature scoff, masking his true emotions. The shameless, pretentious display of cockiness was all worth the little chuckle from Ness, the most sociable, tender man among veterans.

They made their way to the dining hall after chit chatting and freshening up. Their tables had the usual serving of bread, soup and vegetables. His eyes scanned the place for the owner of those beautiful, crazy curls, y/n, she should have been back by now. He couldn’t see her anywhere. Usually it was so easy to spot her in her corner seat. Perhaps Hange assigned her some work, but he couldn’t risk revealing his crush by asking the overly-energetic squad leader. So he quietly finished his plate, feeling just a little hint of emptiness because he missed y/n.

“Nifa, find y/n and tell her I want her in the lab tomorrow at 6am sharp.” Mike overheard Hange speaking from a couple of tables away.

“Yes captain.” Nifa quickly finished her meal and left the dining hall and eventually the headquarters. Her face made it clear that she had done this several times now and Miche was not surprised. Y/n was often in her own head and stayed out for a long time. Miche just found it unusual for her to stay out this late. It was cold outside, no person in their right mind would stay out past 8pm. He wished he knew what was going on inside the girl’s head that made her personality so withdrawn, but he did not have the time. He needed to draft a schedule for this week’s training and tests for the cadets. Just the thought of sitting in an office doing paperwork with a candlelight flickering throughout the night made him feel calm. He was extremely skilled on the field, but he liked doing paperwork too. His studious side was something only his immediate squad and other veterans were familiar with. Sometimes he couldn’t help fantasizing about sharing his study with y/n. Aside from his feelings, y/n had the brains to draft a perfect test that tapped into all the necessary skills for the next expedition. After all, that was what she had been doing before joining the survey corps, albeit in a different field. Miche stopped in his tracks as an idea struck him. He felt dumb, so dumb. He had drafted so many tests, all by himself, fully knowing that there was someone that could probably do it better than him. Fully knowing that y/n had been a psychology student, and she had perfected the theory subjects after joining the survey corps. He turned around and approached Hange.

“Would you mind if I borrow one of your soldiers for a while?”

“That depends, Miche, who are you talking about?”

“Y/n, I need her help drafting the tests tonight. I think she can do a good job.”

“You are right.. I’ll let her know.”

“Tell her to be in my office by 9;30 tonight.”

Miche left for his office to begin work, he wanted to finish as much as he could before y/n showed up. Because work was not the only thing he was concerned about. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was dubious, but he needed to do it. It was funny how a few hours ago he thought he’d never confess his feelings, but later created an opportunity to do that exact thing. He couldn’t believe himself.

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It was 9;30 sharp, and Miche heard a soft knock on his office door.

“Come in, it’s unlocked, and take a seat before me.” He said without lifting his head.

Y/n made herself comfortable and glanced over three open books and a single page. Miche was writing down questions.

“Alright y/n, I need your help drafting the question papers for tomorrow’s tests. Of course, you will be exempted from actually taking the test as a reward.”

“Understood, sir”

“Good, now I want you to create 30 questions that combine the concepts of formations, weaponry and strategy. Make them difficult, and make sure to base it upon the last 5 expeditions.”

“Alright-”

“You have 2 hours to finish this.”

“Okay..” y/n walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed a heap of books. Miche raised his eyebrows in confusion,

“How are you going to refer to that many books and finish it within time?” Miche questioned her.

“I will, don’t worry.” y/n’s sudden confidence took him aback.

“Well good luck.”

Time flew by quickly as both of them were engrossed in their work, the only sounds coming from the candle and turning of pages. It wasn’t peaceful to be precise, y/n was turning pages with such aggression it made the section commander steal glances at her. She would flip through the pages and write down important points, constantly checking the time as she worked. Her handwriting got messier as time flew by and Miche couldn’t help but notice. He could tell that y/n totally had the plan to give those cadets a hard time. She had a weak, but cocky smirk the whole time, and Miche was just glad that he was not one of the people that would need to take the test. He knew that expression and aggressive handwriting very well. She always wore that smirk while writing exams, and everytime she came out on top. Miche knew she was overcompensating for her sub-par physique and iron-deficiency that interfered with her ODM skills, but that semblance of confidence on her face always turned him on. Her hair was still messed up, she struggled to keep that twisted fringe out of her face.

“Where’s the ruler?!” Y/n asked loudly, shaking Miche out of his trance.

“Wait…” He fished out a ruler from the clutter in his drawer and handed it to y/n.

“What are you drawing?”

“A wrong diagram of the latest formation.” Y/n replied curtly.

“I see.. Good.”

Miche was organizing his drawer after finishing his work when y/n handed him the tests. It was 11;30 sharp. The ink had somehow gotten between y/n’s fingers. Miche went through all seven pages of three extremely complicated tests and shot a glance at y/n, who looked like she was awaiting his praise. She was sitting with her back straight, wide eyed and messy hair. Miche chuckled, and y/n smiled. She knew she had done those cadets dirty with her questions.

“You have a naughty side, don’t you?” “Kitten” , was the term Miche refrained from using at the end.

Y/n nodded with a cheeky grin. The section commander squinted and got up from his chair, towering over her. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she broke eye contact with him, staring down at her feet instead. Her delicate shoulders now looked tensed up under her transparent, embroidered shoulder shawl. The pile of paperwork didn’t allow him to notice her beautiful blush pink dress. She had embroidered little flowers to accentuate her figure all the way down to her hips.

“You look beautiful in that dress.” Miche blurted out, causing her to blush harder and breathe unevenly.

“Thank you, sir..”

“Look at me when you speak.”

“O-okay..” she slowly raised her head, still not wanting to make eye contact.

“I will be straight to the point y/n… I like you, not just as a comrade.”

“Understood.” y/n was taking quick, short breaths, causing the tall blonde to get on his knees. She had gone back to her timid mouse state and he could no longer read her.

“Are you scared right now?” Miche tried hard to not sound like a creep.

“No, I like you too!”

“That’s -” he began to speak but got cut off.

“More than a comrade, if you were wondering…” she trailed off shyly. Miche kept staring at her, dumbstruck at her honest confession. This whole time he had no idea about her feelings.

"When were you planning to tell me ..?" Miche asked, pulling a chair behind him. He was still leaning towards y/n with an expression of pure shock.

"I… Never planned on saying anything." Y/n's expression saddened as she looked at him with her doe eyes.

"I can understand.". he was telling the truth. The realisation that their confessions were a result of his impulsive decision dawned on him. He couldn't take his eyes off her form. She looked anxious, fondling with her pendant in one hand.

"Do you want to take this further?" Y/n asked with a shaky voice, and his answer was immediate.

"Yes."

She looked straight into his eyes and smiled.

"Can I kiss you?" The 35 year old man felt like a teenager trying to walk on eggshells. The woman before him giggled and nodded in approval, finally lifting her hand from the pendant. She was starting to settle down, although the butterflies in her stomach made it difficult. Miche was about to lean in when she stopped him and got up from her chair.

"I forgot to lock the door." She said naughtly.

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Okay, I really wanted to turn this into a smut, but I am too chicken. 🙈🥺

#miche aot #miche zacharias #aot miche #section commander miche #miche x reader #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #mike zacharias #miche x you #miche fluff #mike aot #attack on titan #snk miche #aot hange zoe #aot hange #aot canon #canonverse #shingeki no kyojin

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vindicatedvirgil · 3 years

Text

new year’s first kiss

Summary: After a tumultuous year, Virgil and Remus start the new one in the best way possible.

Ship: Dukexiety (Remus x Virgil)

Warnings: Romantic Dukexiety, mentions of a panic attack, mentions of fireworks, mentions of a small party with drinking, food mention. background Loceit and Royality. first kiss. new year’s kiss.

Word Count: 1354

Author’s Note: What better way to end the year than by writing a soft fic about my two favorite boys? Sanders Sides has been such a big part of my year, who knows if I would have made it through without the series and all of the friends I've made because of it. Happy New Years, folks! thanks for making 2020 suck a little bit less.

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Virgil perched himself on top of one of the few empty counters left in the kitchen. Everyone else was crowded on the enclosed balcony, poppers and handheld fireworks in hand, but it had become too much all at once, so he crossed his legs, his head leaning against the cabinets. He hoped that Logan and Janus wouldn’t mind (he did this all the time anyways). He could hear neighbors a few blocks away setting off the big illegal fireworks, and he gripped his mug of gatorade a bit tighter.

He thought about heading home, but the group had agreed to pile onto the floor of Logan and Janus’ apartment (although he had concerns about Roman and Patton getting a little handsy, especially since he had spotted them taking shots earlier) and wake up as late as possible then go to the shitty diner down the block for brunch. Virgil didn’t want to let his friends down, not on New Year’s, not when he’d put them all through so much with his anxiety over the past year.

And no one had been more supportive than Remus, which surprised him, since they’d only met over the summer when he returned from university. Virgil had met Roman and Janus the prior year, when he was the techie for their college’s play. Roman had starred, of course, and Janus was the director. A talented duo, and no one was more surprised than Virgil to find out that they each had their own boyfriends.

Virgil had met Logan and Patton exactly a year ago, when Roman threw a big New Year’s Party. Once he met Janus and Romans’ significant others, it made sense why the pair wasn’t a couple; they fit in so well with their own partners. Roman and Patton were that sickeningly cute couple who did romantic things like bring each other flowers and kiss under the mistletoe during Christmas. Meanwhile, Janus and Logan were more reserved, their hands usually settled in each other’s or on the other’s lap, but their love was just as obvious as the other couple’s.

But this year was more mellow. Just the six of them, in Logan and Janus’ tiny apartment, with way too much food. It was pleasant, but it was still a lot for Virgil’s brain. It had been a long year, full of anxiety attacks and dropping out of college. But his friends had been there the whole time, and when Remus moved back to town, he joined the foray.

Remus had startled Virgil from the very moment they met. He was basically a carbon copy of Roman, but he had a twirly mustache and a grey streak in his hair. And where Roman wore reds and whites, Remus lived in greens and blacks, in his spiked leather jacket and combat boots. His piercings would glint under the lights of any room he was in, and Virgil was captivated. But as wild as Remus was, as dirty of jokes he would tell and as loud as he could be, he was understanding and kind towards Virgil’s anxiety. He’d soften his voice, he’d distract Virgil with random facts, and he’d take Virgil’s cold hands in his warm ones whenever the emo needed it. Virgil couldn’t have avoided the fall for Remus, and it was absolutely terrifying.

“Vee? You in here?” Remus’ voice called out as he stepped back inside from the cold balcony. The others were excitedly counting down, only a few minutes until midnight were left, but Virgil had excused himself a while ago, and Remus was concerned. He peeked into the tiny kitchen to find the black-clad man sitting on one of the countertops, his headphones over his ears as his head leaned back on the cabinets. He seemed… peaceful.

Remus tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips, his eyes softening at the sight of the anxious man in a moment of calm. He wasn’t sure how to alert the man of his presence, but thankfully Virgil’s eyes opened slowly and settled over him until green eyes met gray ones, and headphones were slid off.

“Hey, Vee, you doing ok?” Remus asked, stepping a bit closer to the counter. Remus was the tallest of the group (much to Roman’s dismay), so he was still eye-level with Virgil, who was fairly short when he was standing firmly on the ground. Virgil just shrugged in response, his eyes flicking out the window, where he could see the lights of the handheld fireworks and hear the laughter of his friends.

“A little bit of sensory overload, I’ll be alright,” Virgil responded, and Remus nodded, carding a hand through his hair. Virgil felt a bit guilty for dragging Remus away from the fun. “You should go back out there, be with them when the clock strikes.” Remus laughed, a high pitched tone that made Virgil’s heartbeat speed up.

“Please, they’re all going to be making out at midnight, I don’t want to be an awkward fifth wheel,” he said lightly, and Virgil chewed on his lower lip, his mind wandering, wondering what it would be like to kiss Remus at midnight. Would his mustache tickle Virgil’s upper lip? Would Remus like his hair tugged or back gripped? Would he grab his hips? The possibilities were endless, but impossible.

A particularly loud boom shook the apartment, and Virgil jumped, his head hitting the cabinet a bit hard. Instantly Remus was right there, one hand on Virgil’s knee, the other on the back of his head, rubbing softly.

“Shit,” Virgil mumbled, his face turning bright red from being in such proximity to Remus. “I’m okay, I just… got startled.” Remus didn’t move, though, letting his fingers tangle in Virgil’s purple hair, pulling him until their eyes met. He could hear the final minute countdown outside, only forty-five seconds to go until a new year hit.

“Virgil, I want to ask your permission for this before I just jump in, cause I know you get anxious about this kind of thing,” Remus started, and Virgil bit the inside of his lip nervously. “I want to kiss you at midnight. And not just because you and I are the only ones here who are single and don’t have anyone to kiss, but… I want to kiss you at midnight on New Year’s because I want to start the year off doing something I want to do all year. I want to kiss you on January 1st but also on March 19th and September 23rd and December 31st and every single day in between.”

10…

“I know it’s terrifying, I’m scared too, but… I want this more than anything else, Virgil.”

5…

Virgil leaned forward until their foreheads met, their fringes combining into one. “Kiss me, you fool, kiss me now and tomorrow and every day.”

Happy New Year!

Remus slotted himself between Virgil’s legs perfectly, his arms gripping onto the anxious man’s waist as their lips met for the first time, hastily and needily. Virgil pulled Remus closer, his hands fisting against the battered green shirt that Remus was wearing, and he didn’t care that he needed to breathe. Breathing was secondary now. Only Remus’ lips on his mattered.

Virgil stirred, his eyes opening slowly to find himself asleep on the couch, warm arms surrounding him. He blinked a bit, yawning, and a chuckle came from behind him. “You’re awake just in time for the countdown, babe,” Remus said softly, his fingers trailing through Virgil’s hair. It had grown even longer over the past year, and Remus loved it so much, his fingers were always tangled in it or braiding it.

“How much time is left?” Virgil asked sleepily, shifting around in Remus’ arms until they were facing each other. His question was answered when he heard a faint shout of 10! coming from the apartment next door, and he smiled, taking Remus’ face in one of his hands. “We started this year with a kiss, seems like it worked pretty well for us.”

“Seems so, emo,” Remus smirked, leaning in until their lips met softly, the fireworks booming all across the city.

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[masterlist] [AO3]

if you liked this, please consider reblogging! it helps creators like me.

#amanda writes sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #dukexiety #ts dukexiety #romantic dukexiety #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts remus #remus sanders

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onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (next part)

(word count: 3,098)

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Part Two: Sapnap

Sapnap has never thought of himself as an outwardly sentimental person, but nights like tonight make him consider changing his mind on that front.

Things have been weird, lately. Weird in a different kind of way from the usual weirdness. Personally, he blames Wilbur Soot and his dumb drug van that has somehow evolved into a dumb country and a dumb revolution, because apparently he thinks it’s fine to be invited onto someone else’s server and promptly declare independence. But whatever, it’s fine, and so what if it’s getting a little more intense than the games they usually play? So what if Dream’s starting to get strangely obsessive about the whole thing? Sapnap thinks he might too, in his position, and there’s no need to get too worried about it anyway. There’s no way this war—if it can be called a war at all—will last much longer.

But it’s been weird.

Nights like this, though, remind him that it’ll all be okay in the end. Because tonight started out as a war meeting, all of them hunched around a table in Dream’s base, talking over plans and hypothetical ways to kick the L’Manbergians straight into next week the next time they fight. But over time, conversation shifted to other things, lighter things, and Dream flicked water at George’s face for some reason, and George retaliated by throwing small objects at Dream’s mask, and somehow that’s resulted in them all piling onto each other in front of the TV, watching really terrible horror movies. Dream tosses popcorn at the screen whenever someone makes a horrendous decision, and they’re all cracking stupid jokes and making silly commentary, and Sapnap feels warm and tired and safe. It feels like old times, when it was just the three of them on this server, or maybe even like just a few months ago, before Wilbur got it into his head to create a drug empire and they were all still friends, and the stealing and the griefing was all in good fun and the disc thing was a joke and not something that Dream is still weirdly preoccupied with.

It’s a nice reminder. Things were good before, and they’ll be good again. Everything will go back to normal soon, and right now, with Dream draped across his lap and George half sprawled over both of them, he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

And then, Tommy stumbles into the room.

He blinks a few times, because what? But no, Tommy’s still there, even though this is about the last thing he expected to happen. Scratch that, it’s like, the negative third thing he expected to happen tonight, because what is Tommy doing here?

There is a split second in which his instinct is to go for a weapon. But even disregarding how fucked up that is, because this is still Tommy, still the kid he joked around with and hung out with in the early days, and he doesn’t want him hurt or dead no matter how annoying he’s been lately—even disregarding all of that, the urge fades quickly.

Because Tommy looks like shit.

He’s unarmed and unarmored, nothing on his back but his usual t-shirt, and that appears rumpled, like he slept in it and didn’t bother to change before coming here. His hair is mussed, even more than normal, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Sapnap would chalk it up to sleep deprivation if there weren’t obvious tear tracks drying on his cheeks.

Which, holy shit. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Tommy cry before. So what the hell could have happened that he would show up in Dream’s base of all places, alone and looking like this?

“Uh,” he says, very eloquently. “We’re having a war meeting? What are you doing?”

Tommy’s gaze drifts from them to the TV and back to them again.

“Oh, good,” Tommy says, and he sounds… off. Like he’s trying too hard to sound casual. Sapnap’s not quite sure how he knows that, except that there’s an odd strain in his voice, and the words don’t seem to come easily, like he has to search for them, and that’s wrong. Tommy delivers insults as easily as breathing, even when they’re not particularly clever ones. “Here I was worried you were having a sleepover. Like middle school girls.”

“We can have a sleepover if we want,” George mutters, sounding slightly offended and also like he’s too tired for this. Which, honestly, Sapnap completely agrees with.

“If this is supposed to be a sneak attack or something, it’s a really bad one,” Dream says, and finally puts in the effort of rolling to his feet in one smooth motion and taking a few steps in Tommy’s direction. “Why are you here, Tommy, and how soon can you leave? Or do we need to make you?”

It’s definitely too late at night to sound threatening. Even Dream can’t manage it very well, too much sleep creeping into his voice.

Except it seems to work. Tommy flinches, and takes a step back. Alarm bells start clamoring in Sapnap’s head, because the one thing Tommy has never been is scared of Dream.

Dream catches it too. His head tilts, and he stops his advance. Sapnap exchanges glances with George, and they both get to their feet as well, the earlier warmth and comfort almost forgotten. The movie continues to play in the background, disregarded.

“I’m not here for a fight,” Tommy says, and Sapnap can’t stop his snort.

“You’re always here for a fight,” he says, and Tommy—

Tommy looks at him. Just looks at him, and it’s only for a second, but he could swear that there is something dark in Tommy’s eyes, something dangerous, something that Sapnap has seen before but never in the face of someone so young, something that speaks of loss and bloodshed and an unshakable determination to do whatever it takes. To accomplish what, he doesn’t know, and he can’t find out, because Tommy blinks, looks away, and the moment is gone.

“Not tonight,” Tommy says, and turns his gaze on Dream. And keeps it there. “I want to propose a deal.”

“You want to propose a deal,” Dream repeats. “You want—you came here at three in the morning to try to make a deal with us? I—okay, why? What do you want, and why do you think we’ll give it to you?” Dream’s voice is increasing in both volume and snappiness, and Sapnap can’t blame him; deals, when coming from Tommy, inevitably end in some sort of scam, in his experience, and if Tommy’s really trekked all the way over to their base to try to pull one over them, he’s got another thing coming to him.

But at the same time, Tommy has actually trekked all the way over to their base, looking like he’s halfway to death via exhaustion. His voice is flat, and he’s watching Dream like he’s some sort of predator, like he’s going to attack at the slightest provocation. Which might just be the case, but the point is that Tommy has never seemed this aware of it. Never been careful, never given Dream the respect and caution that his skills deserve, despite Dream besting him in combat time and time again. So somehow, Sapnap doesn’t think that a simple scam is the end goal here.

“You’re going to give it to me because I know you, Dream,” Tommy says, lifting his chin defiantly, and there, there is some of his usual spark, his usual confidence. Odd, though, that it seems to be just that: confidence, not false bravado, not a child playing in shoes several sizes too big, not Tommy trailing after Wilbur like a puppy trying to learn to be a wolf. Just surety. “I know what you want.”

“Oh?” Dream crosses his arms. “And what do I want?”

“The discs,” Tommy says, and Sapnap feels his jaw hit the floor. “And I’ll give them to you. No scams.”

Dream has gone still. Shocked, Sapnap thinks. “You’ll give me the discs?” he says. “Just like that, you’ll give them to me?” He’s disbelieving—but he’s interested. That much is plain as day. And Sapnap still doesn’t understand why Dream cares about those things so much, because sure, Tommy was being really annoying about them, but at the end of the day, discs are all they are. Music discs like any other music discs.

“I mean, no, not—not just like that,” Tommy says. “This is a deal, man, I want something from you. But that’s what I’m offering. The discs. Both of them.”

Sapnap scans his face, his posture, searching for any sign of a lie. There is none. Tommy’s lips are drawn in a thin line, his expression more serious than any Sapnap has ever seen from him.

“Okay, what is it?” he asks.

“L’Manberg’s independence,” Tommy says. “Independence for the discs.”

And that’s—that’s laughable. This revolution of theirs has barely been going on for a month, and it’s already painfully obvious that they’re going to lose, and badly, that they don’t have the resources or the manpower to defeat Dream. They’re going to crush them; they’re not about to let them form their own country right in the middle of the Greater SMP just because of a couple of music discs. That would be stupid.

Except Dream’s still interested.

“You’d be willing to give up the discs?” he asks, an odd note in his voice, and—he’s considering it. He’s actually considering it.

“Oh, come on, Dream,” George says, apparently thinking along the exact same lines. “You can’t just—”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and shifts his weight between his feet. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off Dream. His whole body is tense as a bowstring. “I mean, you know. Sometimes you’ve got to think about what’s important.”

“Did Wilbur ask you to do this?” Dream says.

Tommy stays silent. For a moment, Sapnap takes that as a yes, as agreement, and a burst of anger flares, surprising him. But the core of it is this: sure, Tommy’s irritating, but the discs are important to him. That much has been made extremely clear. So for Wilbur to force the kid to give them up for the sake of his grand country would be messed up.

But Dream laughs, soft and low. “He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?” he says, and Sapnap starts, looking back to Tommy for his reaction.

Tommy winces.

Did the child really waltz into enemy territory without telling anyone where he was going? That’s stupid, even for him.

“What Wilbur doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Tommy snaps, and then scowls. “Well, usually. I take that back, actually. But I’m not here because he told me to. I’m here because this—this is the best choice. It’s the best outcome. So how about you just take the fucking things, and then you go away and leave us alone forever, eh? How about that?”

Dream hums. “And how do you know I won’t take the discs and then raze your little country to the ground anyway?” he asks. “What would stop me?”

Tommy levels a flat stare, and for a second, it’s like there’s someone else peering out of his face.

“I’d fucking stop you, you bitch,” he says. “I’m not—I’ve got news for you, buddy. You think you’re some kind of god. Well, you’re not. You’re just some guy, just like the rest of us, and so what if you’re all strong and shit? There’s always someone stronger.” He pauses for a moment. “There are worse monsters out there than you, Dream. More powerful things. And if you start trying to play your games with me, I’ll take you the fuck out. Don’t even try me. I don’t—I don’t have time for this.” His voice cracks suddenly, and Sapnap looks on in horrified fascination, trying to make sense of anything he’s saying. “Look, you still want the discs, yeah? You can have them. Just give L’Manberg its independence. I won’t try anything. They’re yours to keep, forever. I won’t fight you. So c’mon, you green bastard, do we have a deal?”

Throughout this speech, Dream has gone very, very still.

“More powerful things than me?” he asks. “Tommy, this is literally my server. I think you’re underestimating me here.”

“No,” Tommy says. “No, I’m really not.”

Dream stays silent for a moment. Sapnap would bet anything that underneath his mask, he’s frowning.

“Alright,” he finally says. “Show me that you have them here, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Sapnap would protest. He feels like he should. A couple of discs aren’t worth allowing a whole new country to form in their server. But Dream’s tone brooks no argument, and more than that, there’s definitely something wrong with Tommy, something that grabs his attention and keeps it, even though he can’t put a finger on what it is. So he just watches as Tommy brings his enderchest out of his inventory, and pulls out two music discs, staring at them both for a long second.

And then, he holds them out toward Dream.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” he repeats, and his voice is colorless.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” Dream replies, and takes the discs from Tommy’s hand. Tommy jerks his arm back quickly, face going pale as a sheet as he stumbles a bit.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s shaking, shaking hard, “don’t you fucking, don’t fucking touch—”

Sapnap’s not sure what the issue is. Dream’s fingers might have brushed Tommy’s when he accepted the discs, maybe, but he doesn’t know why that would cause such a reaction. Dream freezes in place, startled, and it’s impossible to tell where he’s looking, so Sapnap exchanges another glance with George and steps forward, intending to calm Tommy down, perhaps, to guide him out of the base so he can get back home. Maybe he’ll walk him himself; he’s not sure he trusts the kid not to get eaten by a zombie on the way, in the state he’s in.

But Tommy wheels on him, stabbing a shaking finger at him, and he stops in his tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s near tears, barely getting the words out, and Sapnap feels so lost. “Don’t get near me, just, just fuck off, why don’t you?”

“You’re in our base!” he says incredulously. “Tommy, what is up with you?”

Tommy just shakes his head. His eyes drift back over to Dream, and the discs in his hand. His face contorts, and Sapnap can’t even begin to interpret the expression he’s making, something sad and angry and desperate all at once, but with something else, something… weird. Everything about this is weird, though, and he doesn’t particularly want to admit that he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit, but frankly, he’s not sure he has a choice.

Because he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit.

“It’s for the best,” Tommy says, quietly, as if to himself, but his voice sounds so wrecked that Sapnap’s first instinct is actually to give him a hug. It’s easy enough to refrain, but still. “It’s for the, it’s for the best. For L’Manberg. It’s, um—” He glances up, right at Dream’s mask, and flinches again. “Right. I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but it never is. Bye, Dream.”

And then he’s backing out the entrance, and he’s gone.

“Bye, Tommy,” Dream says, somewhat belatedly, and then they all stand there in silence for a good two minutes. Dream turns the discs over and over in his hands, a repetitive motion. Sapnap recognizes it for what it is—a self-soothing mechanism, something to calm himself with. He’s rattled.

“So, that was really weird, right?” George says, and Sapnap lets out a long breath.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’d say that was weird, George.” And then he whirls on Dream. “And you! Are you serious right now? You’re just going to, what, let them make their country, just like that? Over a couple of discs? Seriously?”

Dream takes a moment before replying, and when he does, his voice is low, considering.

“I want to see where this goes,” he says. “I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t think that Tommy would be willing to give up these discs for—well, for anything. And the fact that he did this on his own? Without even telling anyone? You’re right, it’s weird. I want to figure it out.” He shrugs, posture untensing. The discs vanish into his inventory. “Besides, I have the discs now, which means I have power over him. And we can always declare war again later if we want. I promised him L’Manberg’s freedom, not that they would get to keep it.”

He frowns. “I guess.”

Power over Tommy. Normally, he’d agree. Holding the discs over his head in the past has worked wonders. But the way Tommy looked, the way he came to them of his own volition, suggested giving up the discs himself—something about him has changed, and Sapnap’s no longer sure that it will be that simple. Because sure, his face when he gave them up was agonized, but then there was everything else, too, everything he said, the way he was acting, like he thought there was some bigger threat on the horizon, and that it wasn’t Dream.

Weird. Just, so weird.

“Alright, I guess we see how this goes, then,” George says.

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes,” he echoes, and wonders why the words inspire such dread in him.

They go back to their movie. But though they sit together again, pressed into each other’s sides, none of them relax. The tension in the room does not leave, and he knows that none of them are paying attention to the movie at all, that all of them are lost in their own thoughts, and he resents it, a bit. He wants that easy camaraderie back. Wants his friends, his friends and simpler times, before war, before discs, before Tommy-fucking-Innit and all the rest of them. Just him and Dream and George, messing around, doing what they want, making a server into a home.

Simpler times seem like a long way away. Sapnap thinks about it long into the early morning, long after the credits stop rolling, and can’t come to a conclusion that satisfies him. Can’t find peace. He doesn’t think the other two can, either.

But then, he’s not sure what else he expected. Sometimes, he thinks he’s forgotten what peace means.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #sapnap #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #/rp #cw swearing #cw violence mention #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au

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lemon-patches · 3 years

Text

Handon Pre-Legacies Headcanons

(So I was rewatching some the originals clips and these just popped into my head)

-It's already been established that Landon worked at the Mystic Grill and that's probably where he met Hope for the first time

-Now don't get mad at me but I'm gonna be honest, I don't think Landon stood out to Hope all that much...at first

-Keep in mind that at the time she did have a crush on Roman and we've all seen how committed she can be when it comes to romance

-But on the other hand Landon's trying to get his heart to start functioning properly again because who is that???

-And why does she have such a weird milkshake order???

-So anyways time goes on and whenever Hope's not locked in her room on campus she's at the Mystic Grill

-Thanks to her reclusive nature she doesn't really interact with anyone sans her server and kinda just sits there quietly enjoying her food and the scenery

-Meanwhile Landon's just in the background drooling and pining silently

-And don't get him wrong, he wants to talk to her but he always chickens out halfway through and just writes down his feelings and thoughts onto a napkin or something

-lowkey the reason why he's always writing her letters. because he got used to expressing himself best that way

-So even more time passes and Hope vaguely notices that Landon's the only waiter that's memorized her orders for the most part

-Hope being Hope, she calls him out on it. Politely of course but Landon still panics and nearly has a heart attack while he stutters and sputters out a defense that he's not a creeper

-okay so maybe he's kinda cute or whatever

-Hope thinks it's sweet and tells him so. Leaves him pretty good tips too (which sends Landon into a spiral because she's nice and she tips well?!?)

-True interaction doesn't really take off until she notices Landon being harassed by some Mystic High goonies and sees him forcing himself to bite his tongue

-But just because he has to hold back doesn't mean she has to and she's ready to rip these little shits a new one until they lock eyes and Landon shakes his head at her

-cue the start of hope wanting to hit shit and landon presenting another option...not to mention protective!hope

-Hope respects his wishes but still feels bad that he has to deal with it. Since she can't be reactive maybe she can be proactive

-She's seen him bobbing his head or singing under his breath to the music that plays on the speakers. So one day, during a moment of particularly vicious heckling she asks him who his favorite musicians are as a means of distraction

-And ladies and gentlemen they are off. Shy as he may be, if you want Landon to open up to you almost immediately ASK HIM ABOUT MUSIC OR SCI-FI SHIT

-They go back and forth talking about which artists they like and why and constantly go off on tangents. Almost like they can talk to this person about anything and they'd get it (how strange...)

-It's on one of those tangents that Landon finds out that Hope is from New Orleans which just sets off another 20 minute conversation

-They talk for so long that not only did the bullies get bored and leave but Landon gets scolded by his manager for abandoning the other customers

-worth it

-Before they know it, an odd little friendship has formed in a place that seemed to exist suspended in time, away from both of their worlds

-Hope spends more and more time at the Mystic Grill since she didn't really have friends at school (leave me alone, it's canon)

-At some point Landon just starts spending all his breaks with her and when he's working Hope is still content to watch Landon scurry around while she doodles or does her homework

-Discounted milkshakes anyone?

-They don't really talk about deep shit but their presence becomes a comfort to one another

-And Hope has to regularly remind Landon to get back to his job before he gets yelled at again

-They talk about and do so much random shit

-Ranking the menu items? Check

-Scoring all the contestants on karaoke night? Check (those two are utterly ruthless btw)

-Playing darts or pool over free leftover fries? Check

-Silently judging rude customers? CHECK

-And yes, Landon's crush just grows steadily day by day because he can tell even without knowledge of the supernatural that Hope Mikaelson is quite special

-And Hope is just so damn happy to have a genuine friend who doesn't judge her or want her for family's past or her powers

-Hope only comes over like 2 or 3 times a week but it's almost like a refuge for both of them to look forward to during a tough week

-That is until Hope gives Henry her blood, she gets suspended from school, and life proceeds to go to utter hell

-Hope's life is chaos and Landon's wondering where his lunchtime buddy went

-First it's just a couple days and then Hope's gone for weeks

-(the napkin notes just pile up)

-During that time separated Landon decides that he can't just rely on her being at the Mystic Grill to hangout with her. He's been extremely lucky so far and now's the time to buck up and finally ask her out

-Especially when he gets the news that his latest foster parents don't want to keep him and he's probably gonna be leaving soon

-Eventually he does see her again but doesn't comment on how much more...subdued she looks

-He figures it's none of his business unless she tells him and remembers the promise he made himself

-Sure, he wasn't expecting an audience (hi uncle Elijah) but it's now or never

-He gets shot down. Politely. But shot down nonetheless

-But hearing about his #1 tormentor's car blowing up did cheer him up quite a bit

-He's literally packing all his meager belongings when he decides to go out into the town while he still can

-AND GUESS WHO HE RUNS INTO?!?!?!!!?!?!

-Sure, they only really spent twenty minutes with each other but they danced. They danced.

-Landon's smiling like a goddamn idiot for the rest of the night. And sure enough, the following morning, there's a social worker waiting for him ready to relocate him

-He's sad, not so much because he'll miss the town or school or even his job but because he'll miss her

-But at least he can remember how they danced together

-About a month later, when Hope can think of human interaction and not automatically curl up inside or want to bare her new fangs Hope actually finds herself at the Mystic Grill

-Yes, she wants a milkshake, and maybe a burger but she mostly wants to see Landon

-She's actually there about half the day until she figures he's not coming in today (and to think she thought she had his schedule mostly memorized)

-It takes about a week of not seeing him before she finally asks another worker about Landon only to find out that he doesn't work there anymore because he moved

-”...oh.”

-After that Hope kinda just goes back to school and stays there

-She still goes to the Mystic Grill but only once or twice a month if she's nearby (no one gets her orders quite right anymore. especially the milkshakes)

-Now if Hope's not in class or training, she's in her room by herself, locked away from the world (no one else can leave her if she's always alone)

-Life goes on

-But every now and then she'll wonder how her friend is doing

-Little does she know that he's wondering the same thing

(flipping hell. look at them. disgustingly adorable. i love it)

#shit why does the ending actually make me kinda sad?#i thought this was gonna be a quick little drabble but apparently I had some THOUGHTS #idk its midnight and im rambling #might make a oneshot outta this who knows #and this has nothing to do with anything but the judgy looks handon had in 1x14 give me LIFE you have no idea #legacies #handon #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #headcanon #headcanons #handon headcanons #tumblr thief strikes again

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imafraidof-thedark · 3 years

Note

okay jerk i’ve never met before i expect some pure lunor shit specifically with TMS weekly movie night

hello, bitch, who i obviously haven’t met! here’s some lunor/habby and TMS movie night! hope it’s substantial

also i can make a tag list if anyone is interested in being tagged when i post more, so comment/dm if you want to be added to the tag list.

additionally, i’ll most likely be writing more ayaotd fics after that, so, you can send me an ask with a prompt to write for

READ ON AO3

“Just start without me. I have to do my homework,” Connor said, looking up at Luke, who had just walked in telling him that they were starting the movie soon. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” asked Connor.

“I mean, no,” Luke restated, climbing onto Connor’s bed and closing his laptop, moving it away from him. Luke climbed over Connor and stretched out over his body, leaning into his arms. Connor snaked his arms around Luke’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple, threading his fingers through Luke’s hair.

“I guess I can do my homework later,” he murmured, and Luke smiled, pushing himself up slightly to kiss Connor’s cheek. Connor moved his hand down to Luke’s face, and cupping his cheek, kissed his lips.

“Thanks, Con,” Luke replied in between kisses, blushing slightly.

“‘Course,” Connor said, “anything for my angel.”

“Soooo,” Hanna said down in the living room, tucking her foot under her and sitting down on the couch. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Connor said IT one,” Gabby said, from her spot on the floor in front of Hanna, next to Jai.

Hanna crossed her arms. “Who is currently not here,” she said under her breath.

Jai snorted. “He’s probably in the kitchen making out with his boyfriend.”

“Jai!” Hanna exclaimed hitting him with a pillow.

“Am I wrong?” he asked.

Gabby gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. “He’s most likely not wrong.”

“Gabby! Not you too!” Hanna groaned.

“Hanna, you can’t say that there hasn’t been something else since Luke ‘gripped him tight and raised him from perdition,’” Jai said, making finger quotes in the air.

“Jai-” Hanna started but broke off as the door opened and Connor and Luke walked in.

“Speak of the devil,” Jai smirked.

Hanna rolled her eyes and Gabby laughed lightly.

“Whatchya talking about?” Luke asked, walking over to sit in the corner of the couch. Connor followed close behind with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nothing,” Gabby said quickly.

“Okay,” Luke said skeptically as Jai stretched out his arms, reaching for the popcorn bowl. Connor handed it to him, then sat down in between Luke and Hanna.

“‘S it queued up?” he asked and no one spoke. “Seriously?” Sighing, he got up and turned on the tv in his living room.

“Sorry that we don’t know how to work the tv,” Jai replied and Connor just rolled his eyes, pulling the disc of the first IT movie out of the tv stand. “And where the disc was,” Jai added as Connor turned on the tv and put the disk into the player.

“It’s not like you’ve been over to my house a million times, Jai.”

Luke put his arm up on the side of the couch and said, “he hasn’t. He’d be talking with Seth while we’re hanging out.”

“Okay, the funky dude isn’t that bad,” Jai protested.

“No, he’s that bad,” Hanna said. Jai shrugged and shoveled popcorn into his mouth while Connor took his spot again, Luke’s arm shifting closer to him as he clicked play and the opening scene started up, with the volume high enough to drown out almost any other noise.

“I’m thinking it might’ve been a bad idea to watch IT after the Shadowman,” Gabby said, 30 minutes into the movie. She’d migrated to the couch now, and she and Hanna were both under a blanket, and Jai had piled pillows on the floor and was lounging across them.

From the opposite side of the couch, Connor, who had his head resting on Luke’s shoulder, spoke. “Yeah, probably. Bad planning on my part.”

“Or maybe it was just a ploy to get me to hold you,” Luke whispered into Connor’s ear, careful not to let the others hear.

Connor smiled, blushing slightly, and looked up at Luke. “You look really cute when you do that, too,” Luke added.“Shut up,” he muttered, but moved closer into Luke’s side anyway, and The Midnight Society (minus Seth) sat in silence for a few more minutes before someone spoke. “We’re out of popcorn,” Jai said, lifting the empty bowl above his head. Connor flicked his eyes over to where Jai was.

“We’ll make it,” Hanna announced, grabbing the bowl from Jai and standing up. “C’mon.” She motioned with her hand. Gabby blinked and looked around in confusion, but stood up and followed Hanna. “And you can keep watching the movie,” Hanna added as she held the door to the hallway open for Gabby.

Gabby yawned as she walked over to the counter where the Stevens’ air popper and popcorn kernels were already out from the last batch. It was when Gabby had measured out the kernels and started the machine that Hanna finally spoke. “Gabby?” she asked hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“I have something to tell you,” Hanna said, wringing her hands nervously. Gabby turned around to look at her and jumped up onto the countertop. “I’m listening,” she replied when Hanna didn’t speak.

“What? Oh, yeah.” Hanna rubbed her eyes. “Gabby? I like you. Like, romantically like you. Like, like, you,” she confessed, starting to pace. “And I get that you might not be okay with that, which is fine, I guess, and I won’t mention this again if that’s the case and we can pretend this never happened, cause I still want to be your friend, even if I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Hanna.”

“Yes?” Hanna asked apprehensively, stopping in front of Gabby.

Gabby smiled. “I like you too. Like, like, you.”

Hanna immediately felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. “You do?” Her voice came out breathless and strained.

“I do,” Gabby assured, reaching an arm out to Hanna. Hanna stepped forward shakily, then again, and again, until she was right in front of Gabby. She could smell Gabby’s flowery scent that accompanied her everywhere; the cherry chapstick on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Gabby whispered, which Hanna still heard over her frantic pulse and the air popper in the background. She nodded and Gabby leaned in slowly.

When their lips met, Hanna felt the whole world disappear. It was only her and Gabby. She felt Gabby pull her closer and she unconsciously leaned in and deepened the kiss, her arms moving around Gabby’s waist.

Meanwhile, Gabby moved her hands up Hanna’s arms to her face to touch Hanna’s cheeks gently, her ankles hooked together behind Hanna’s legs.

They finally broke apart after the first couple of popcorn kernels popped. Gabby leaned down and touched her forehead to Hanna’s, both of them smiling breathlessly.

“So you really like me?” Hanna asked.“Yes, I really like you,” Gabby responded, tucking a strand of Hanna’s hair behind her ear. Hanna smiled and kissed Gabby again.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Gabby repeated, pulling Hanna in for a hug, only letting go when they heard the popcorn stop popping. Hanna pulled away, placing a chaste kiss on Gabby’s lips, then walked to turn off the air popper.

“Jai will want salt and butter,” Gabby told Hanna.

“Well,” Hanna stated, grabbing the salt, “sucks for him, cause he’s just having salt.”Gabby grinned as Hanna shook the salt over the popcorn, then shook the bowl lightly. “Ready?” Hanna asked, holding her hand out for Gabby to take.

“What are we gonna tell the rest of the Midnight Society?” Gabby asked quietly.

Hanna lowered her hand. “We can decide tomorrow. They don’t need to know yet if you’re not ready. That okay?”

Gabby nodded.

“And besides,” Hanna continued, “they’re all fine with my moms, anyway.”

Gabby nodded and Hanna held out her hand again. This time, Gabby took it, smiling, and hopped off the counter.

“Thank you,” Jai drew out when Hanna handed him the bowl, and Hanna nodded in return, settling down on the couch with Gabby. Hanna opened her arms and Gabby leaned into her chest.

“You know, I think if the Losers were actually smart, they wouldn’t run to try and stop IT,” Jai said, holding his arm up vertically. “I mean like, Pennywise was gonna take them anyway most likely. It’s kinda useless.”

“Jai, you do realize what we did when Connor was missing, right?” Hanna asked incredulously.

“Well yeah. But that’s cause we had a friend missing.”

There was an awkward silence. “Jai, Georgie was missing. He’s Bill’s brother,” Luke deadpanned.

Jai blinked. “Yeah okay, I see your point.”

The rest of the movie passed relatively smoothly, Gabby falling asleep first, two-thirds of the way through the movie, her head resting on Hanna’s shoulder. Hanna fell asleep 10 minutes after that, and then Jai during the last scene in the field.

“That was fun,” Luke whispered at 1:30 am when the movie ended and the credits started.

“Yeah,” Connor whispered back, neither of them bothering to get up and turn the tv off just yet.

“Watching this movie makes me realize how glad I am to have you back,” Luke told Connor, running his hands through Connor’s hair and then kissing his hairline.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Connor replied, and they fell into an easy silence. When the credits finally stopped, Connor reluctantly pulled away from Luke.

“Where are you going?” Luke whined, flopping on the couch, reaching for Connor.

“I have to put away the disk and turn off the tv,” Connor answered, bending down and taking the remote from Jai’s hand, then clicking the tv off. “But we can go to my room after.”

“Oh, okay,” Luke said, standing up and waiting in the doorway. When they left the room, they didn’t have to turn off the lights. All the members of the Midnight Society now had strings of lights hung up around their houses, and Connor’s living room was no different—there was a string of white Christmas lights around the room, and the actual lights had been off for a while.

It was nearing 4 am when the sky had started lightening in the summer morning that Luke and Connor were both laying in Connor’s bed finally trying to sleep. Their legs were intertwined and they were both laying on their sides, facing each other. “I’m really glad you’re my boyfriend, angel,” Connor whispered.

“I’m super glad you’re my boyfriend, too, Con,” Luke whispered back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Connor’s face, then kissing him again. With that, they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each others’ arms.

#asks #ayaotd #are you afraid of the dark #lunor #habby #connor stevens #luke mccoy #gabby lewis #hanna romero #jai malaya #ayaotd fics #my fics #fanfiction

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shinsorokiri · 3 years

Text

UA Idol | Chapter Twenty

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 3,079

Warnings: Language, excessive amounts of nerves, Y/n’s song mentions a razor

A/N: Another one. This one was fun and now I’m excited because we are getting into live shows which means a LOT OF ACTION IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN LEMME TELL YOU. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! I’m having fun with this series and I have a few ideas for some other ones, so if anyone would be interested in hearing about them just let me know and I’ll post little prefaces or something. Okay, I’ll shut up now, please enjoy! :)

───────────────────────────────────

“Are you ready to kick some ass?!” Mina screams as the two of you are getting dressed for your final performances of Hell Week. You laugh a bit, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m ready. I’m assuming you’re even more ready considering you just screamed that at six in the morning.”

“Oh, you know I’m ready. I’m so pumped, dude. So. Pumped.”

“I can tell.”

“And you need to calm down, (Y/n), I can tell you’re nervous.”

“I’m always nervous, Mina. Especially with this.”

“Yeah, well you’re gonna kill it and get through to live shows with absolutely no problem, so I don’t wanna hear it,” Mina winks at you as she applies her lipstick, and you grin. It’s nice knowing your best friend has more faith in you than you do. You freshen up, making yourself look presentable. You’re wearing the best outfit you brought here, and to say you look good is an understatement. “Someone looks hot,” Mina says as the two of you are about to leave. You laugh. “Speak for yourself,” you say, and she just stops in the middle of the hallway and starts twerking and doing tiktok dances. All because you said she looked hot and she’s extra as hell. You can only roll your eyes as you laugh, and surprisingly while she’s doing this, Uraraka runs over to you guys and joins in with her. “Oh my god y’all, let’s go,” you say through laughter, rushing over to the elevator and hitting the button.

Uraraka and Mina both follow after you the minute they hear the doors ding, opening up to reveal Midoriya and Todoroki. “Hey guys!” Uraraka says, hugging Midoriya. Todoroki and Midoriya both greet everyone and you all start talking about the performances. “I’m so nervous,” Midoriya says, and Todoroki tries to inconspicuously grab his hand to give him reassurance, but you all see it. None of you say anything though because it’s cute. “I am too, dude,” you say, and Mina hits both of you. Not like actually hits but a friend smack on the arm. “You two need to stop this, you’re going to do great!” “I agree with Mina, you’re both going to be just fine,” Todoroki says, and Midoriya starts grinning like a mad man. “But it’s okay to be nervous, just know that y’all are going to kill it and everything will be fine!” Uraraka says, giving you both a thumbs up. By the end of the elevator ride, you feel a little better with what’s about to happen. When you all walk out into the lobby where you run into Hitoshi and Denki. “Hey guys,” Mina says, running over to Denki and bumping him with her butt. She is… very energetic for getting up extremely early. Denki laughs and butt bumps her back. The two of them have the most chaotic energy you’ve ever seen in two people. It’s kind of impressive.

“Hey,” you say to Hitoshi and he grins. “Hey.”

Unbeknownst to you, he had been checking you OUT the minute you stepped off of that elevator. He knows you’re insanely attractive and he’s seen you look good countless of times but like… wow. Right now, you look insanely good, and he can’t even try to hide the fact that he was looking you up and down. Of course, Todoroki noticed this, and made a mental note to text in the group about what he just saw. But later. When you two weren’t around.

“Alright guys let’s head out!” Denki screams the minute that Kirishima, Bakugou, and Sero step out of the elevator and Momo and Jirou appear from the stairs. Now you all could walk to the theater, it truthfully wasn’t that far, but UA Idol provided the contestants with big ass vans just like they did for the first round of Hell Week. You pile in one with Mina, Denki, Hitoshi, Kirishima, and Bakugou yet again, but this time the conversation is a lot more familiar and Bakugou even partakes in it without calling someone a dumbass in every sentence.

The drive really was short, so you just stared out of the window the whole time. You were listening to what was happening and responding with laughs and things, but you weren’t necessarily talking. You were just going over the lyrics of your song in your head and trying not to psych yourself out. Hitoshi knows this, of course, and he gently hits you with his foot, causing you to look at him. “You okay?” he mouths, concern evident on his features. You nod, and he raises an eyebrow at you. You give him a small grin, trying to convince him that you were fine because you really were, you were just nervous. But he doesn’t buy it and decides that he’ll ask you about it when the two of you are alone. And Kirishima notices this exchange, but he also bookmarks it in his brain to talk about in the group chat later as well.

When your van pulls up to the theater, you all hop out and head inside. Everyone is gathering in the actual theater again, and you all head in. This time, you’re sitting with all of your new friends instead of just Hitoshi since you aren’t divided up into genres this time, but of course you were still right next to him. “Okay, seriously, what’s up?” you hear a whisper and look over to see Hitoshi highkey concerned about you. You smile a bit. Cute. “I’m just nervous Toshi, it’s okay,” you respond, and he frowns. “I wish I could help you out with that but like, same.”

“I knew you’d feel my pain. But don’t worry, you’re going to do great.”

“And you are too, kitten.”

He elbows you, causing you to smile. Now you didn’t feel 100% confident after this, but you did certainly feel a lot better. When all forty of the remaining contestants are gathered in the theater, everyone is informed on what is about to go down. The theater is where everyone will wait and watch the performances on a big screen, but since they’re in LA and it’s a really nice day, a separate performance stage was set up outside. Everyone will be doing another soundcheck before the performances, since they’re changing from indoors to outside, and they will start at two pm. It seems a little early, but the way they do this is they have everyone perform for a live audience which usually takes around three and a half hours. Then, they need to discuss who will go through and who won’t, which can take anywhere between an hour to two hours. Then, they proceed to invite everyone back onto the stage outside where the judges are going to be sitting to tell them if they’re going through to the live shows, or if they’re going home.

After that, you all get to work immediately. Everyone heads out to the outdoor stage, running through soundcheck again and adjusting to the new dynamics of outside. You would be lying if you said you weren’t also pumped as well as nervous. This was about to be so fun, but also extremely important for your future. Before you knew it, it was two, and there were so many people in the crowd. You all watched from inside the theater on a big screen on the stage, and you hear Sero mutter something in Spanish while Denki and Mina’s jaws drop. “That… is a lot of people,” Midoriya says, his nerves evident in the shake of his voice and look of fear in his eyes. “Yeah, but who cares? If they’re here to hear good music and watch a good fucking performance that’s what they’re gonna get. Don’t let a shit ton of strangers make you perform like shit, Deku,” Bakugou growls at Midoriya. He’d started calling him Deku ever since yesterday when he saw how clumsy the poor kid was. It’s not a very endearing nickname, but it’s certainly a degrading one. Midoriya doesn’t seem to mind though, and in retaliation started calling him Kaachan. Don’t ask why, no one really knows, but it makes Bakugou’s blood boil. “He kind of has a point, you know,” Uraraka says as the first contestants start going. “I mean, they’re here. For a good performance. So that’s what we’ll give them!”

You take a deep breath, trying to listen to Bakugou and Uraraka, but still internally freaking out a little bit. Everyone going so far had been really good, you have no idea how the judges can pick people to send to the next round and who to get rid of. You would never be able to do that. You watched as all of your friends, old and new, went, occasionally going to sing backup for them. For some unknown reason, basically all of you were the last one to go. Kirishima and Denki helped Bakugou sing the background vocals for his song, Sugar, We’re Goin Down by Fall Out Boy and then Kirishima and Bakugou in turn helped Denki with his rendition of No Control by One Direction. Meanwhile with Kirishima, he had quite a few people helping him out since he’s singing Locked out of Heaven by Bruno Mars, but all of them had amazing performances. Mina, of course, killed her performance of Positions by Ariana Grande as well as Uraraka with her performance of New Rules by Dua Lipa. Sero completely and totally caught everyone off guard singing a Caramelo by Ozuna, mainly because a lot of people didn’t realize he was Asian Latino and fluent in Spanish, Japanese, and English. Of course, you all knew because you hung out with him like all day yesterday and he threatened to beat Bakugou with a shoe completely in Spanish which was hilarious because Bakugou didn’t know what was going on, but a lot of people (excluding the judges since they saw him literally audition in Mexico) were surprised. Midoriya did a surprisingly good cover of Dance Monkey by the Tones and I and Todoroki really did a great job singing Willow by Taylor Swift. Mans has range. And now, Hitoshi was up. You gave him a thumbs up when he looked back at you at the piano, which was a decision you both made so you could since back-up and also play the piano, it made sense to do and was easier on the pianist in the band. He could learn one less song. Then he started strumming his ukulele and went off.

“I was scared of dentists and the dark. I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations, Oh, all my friends are turning green. You're the magician's assistant in their dream.

Ah-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ahh-ah-ah And they come unstuck…

Lady, running down to the riptide, Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left-hand man. I love you when you're singing that song, And I got a lump in my throat 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.

There's this movie that I think you'll like. This guy decides to quit his job and heads to New York City. This cowboy's running from himself, And she's been living on the highest shelf.

Ah-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ahh-oh And they come unstuck…

Lady, running down to the riptide, Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left-hand man. I love you when you're singing that song. And I got a lump in my throat 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.

I just wanna, I just wanna know If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay.

I just gotta, I just gotta know I can't have it, I can't have it any other way.

I swear she's destined for the screen. Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen, oh

Oh lady, running down to the riptide, Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left-hand man. I love you when you're singing that song, And I got a lump in my throat 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.

Yeah, I got a lump in my throat 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.”

The crowd was very interactive with him, singing along and afterwards, they were going crazy because they genuinely enjoyed his performance. He looked at you with a very happy expression that made your heart skip a beat. You smiled back at him, and he motioned for you to take the microphone while he took his place at the keyboard to help sing back-up for you. The judges also seemed to be enjoying themselves through Hitoshi’s song. You were still nervous, but you took a deep breath and started your song anyways.

“Ooh, ah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ooh, ah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I know we don't need anyone, anyone. Here in the dark, I feel my heart. And we react like chemicals, chemicals Here in the darkness, I feel my heart beat.

Oh, when we lock eyes, Come with me don't kill the vibe. Look around, no one's in sight Hold me down if I get too wild, I swear. You and I could just disappear. We can run away from here. To the darkest places, Too late, no one can save us now.

When you spill your guts they don't go back in. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) If I say too much it's my consequence. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) So take your razor love and run it down my skin. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) If I bleed too much it's my consequence. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Oh, your fingers locked in my hair, Our clothes all over the chair, We're all alone And I'm dancin' in my underwear. You laugh and I blush, and it hurts so much. You melt and I die, The world is ours At least it is tonight.

(It's chemical, it's chemical Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

When you spill your guts they don't go back in. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) If I say too much it's my Consequence. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) So take your razor love and run it down my skin. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) If I bleed too much it's my Consequence. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah we don’t need anyone, anyone. Here in the dark, I feel my heart. And we react like chemicals chemicals. Here in the darkness, I feel my heart beat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Ooh, ah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ooh, ah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.”

You were met with more applause and singing along than you expected, and honestly you had a great time performing. You got the audience involved, your voice was spot on, everything went perfectly. And you were very happy with what you did. And it seemed like the judges were too. You both walked back to the theater, all pumped up as you sat next to your friends. Compliments were going all around, everyone telling each other how well they did. Now, you all had to wait to see if you made it through.

Everyone was called back in the order they had performed, and after seeing countless people come out with bad news and a few with good news, your nerves were back in full force. Unluckily for you and Hitoshi, you two were dead last. Again. So, you just had to sit there, and wait. And the worst part is, only half of the people who already got the news came out the way they went in to keep the remaining contestants clueless on if they made it through or not. Luckily, though, Mina, Denki, Sero, Kirishima, Bakugou, Uraraka, Midoriya, and Todoroki all made it through. You knew that much. And now, you and Hitoshi were the only ones waiting.

A producer came out and you gave Hitoshi a thumbs up as he stood to go back. “Wait, the two of you are okay to head onto the stage together.”

You look at each other, a little confused, before you stand up and follow Hitoshi back to the stage where the two of you had performed earlier. “Oh, good, they sent you together,” you hear Midnight say as the two of you walk on the stage. Sure enough, there are two seats set up where the usual one is for whoever is being told good news, or bad news. “Yeah, this will make it much easier.”

“How are you two?” Toshinori asks, and you snort. “Very nervous.”

“I second that,” Hitoshi says, and the judges laugh. “Well, that’s good. When you’re nervous about something it means you care about it, so that’s a good answer,” Aizawa says, a small grin on his face. Weird. He never smiles. “So, do y’all think you made it through?” Hawks asks, and the two of you look at each other before Hitoshi shrugs. “We honestly don’t know.”

“Yeah, everyone did really well today. We can only hope we did.”

“Another good answer,” Aizawa says, and the two of you grin. Getting praise from Shouta Aizawa is a wonderful feeling. “Well, I suppose we can just rip the band aid off. You two have been waiting for quite some time,” Midnight says, and Toshinori nods. “So, as you know, only twenty people are able to advance to the next round.”

You both nod.

“And you both did very well today.”

You both say thank you.

“And so far, we’ve only accepted eighteen people in the top twenty.”

Your heart starts beating faster.

“Which means there are two spots left.”

Hitoshi grabs your hand.

“And those two spots, belong to you two. Congratulations, it’s up to the world to see how far you’ll progress in the competition now.”

───────────────────────────────────

Song list:

Kirishima | Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars

Mina | Positions - Ariana Grande

Denki | No Control - One Direction

Midoriya | Dance Monkey - Tones and I

Uraraka | New Rules - Dua Lipa

Bakugou | Sugar, We’re Goin Down - Fall Out Boy

Sero | Caramelo - Ozuna

Todoroki | Willow - Taylor Swift

Shinsou | Riptide - Vance Joy

(Y/n) | My Consequence - Hey Violet

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wolfish-trickster · 3 years

Text

One sad story

Loki x female!reader (eventually) Avengers x reader (platonic)

Part 1/2

Word count: 1 272

Summary: you feel like you are unwanted in the team unless you change, but that's hard. The whole team is worried about you, but only Loki managed to do something, for now.

Warnings: sadness, depression. It will get better I promise.

Bring Sally up, bring Sally down, lift and squat, gotta tear the ground. Bring Sally up...

You can't anymore. It's nearly the end of the song but you just can't continue. Natasha on the other hand is doing push ups as if it was nothing.

"How are you so strong?" you asked her, breathing heavily.

"Don't know, might be my training?" Nat turned the video of and started to stretch her arms. You were still laying on the cold floor, cooling your heated body. It would be nice to just close your eyes and forget everything around you. But you have to stretch first, otherwise you might damage your muscles.

After stretching and warm shower both you and Nat went to kitchen.

"Hey Y/N, me, Wanda, Pepper and Maria want to have a girl night, wanna join?"

"No, thanks. I'm too tired. I'll just turn on some movie and fall asleep," you fake-yawned, trying to convince her of your tiredness.

"Alright, do as you wish," said the red haired spy, knowing you weren't as tired as you acted.

You turned around and made your way to elevators. Just as boys were coming out of the gym. All of them shirtless of course. 'Show offs' you thought, rolling your eyes with a smile.

But then, you noticed him. A certain raven haired god was walking quietly after the horde of heroes, wearing a tank top and man bun. You quickly looked away, rushing to your room. You were very closed friends, but you started to distance yourselves lately. In the begging it was just the two of you. Reading in the library until one of you fell asleep, watching movies under the blanket, talking while enjoing a cup of tea. But ever since the rest of the team (mainly boys) started to train with him, talk to him, spending time with him. He just didn't have time on you anymore.

But that's fine. You had time to yourself. You started working out, gaining muscle. You already were an Avenger, now you have to look the part. You were trained to be fast, not strong, that's why you didn't have that much muscle. That's why you looked small and weak and useless compared to your teammates. Gods, assasins, soldiers...

And then you. Ordinary human. With basic training. Without special skills or super powers. Invisible. Unimportant. Replacable.

You sighed and turned your laptop on. Browsing through Netflix until you found The Little Prince. It's always easier to conceal crying when you have a background noise.

"Hey, where's Y/N? I thought she'll come," Wanda asked Natasha, fixing her black dress and curled hair.

"I thought so too but she said she's too tired. She was lying, obviously. Something's going on with her, but what?"

"I just hope she's okay."

"Oh please, why wouldn't she be? She's Y/N, the toughst girl I know. Besides, where's Maria? Did you tell her we are leaving at six instead of seven?" Pepper intervened enthusiasticaly. This was the first night off she has had for 3 months.

Girls then heard high heels clapping towards them."Of course they did. It takes time to look this gorgeous" to emphasise Maria threw her hair loreal-comercial style.

"Alright ladies, let's go shopping!"

"Does anyone know of Y/N whereabouts? She promised she'll watch that 'movie thing' she mentioned earlier"

"Thor, you've asked 3 times already and for the fourth time: she's sleeping in her room. Let her rest."

"Says someone who had no problem letting her be awake for more than 20 hours straight. We get it Tony, your sleeping schedule is messed up, doesn't mean she has to have it too."

When Bruce entered the living room he was presented with Clint and Tony in the middle of their poker game (playing for cookies), Thor chewing on an apple behind Tony peeking into his cards and Loki calmly reading a book with a steaming cup of tea sitting next to them.

"I can watch that movie with you Thor, if you'd like to. By the way, did you notice Y/N started to act.... a little odd lately?" Bruce swore he saw Loki looking up from his book with his peripheral vision.

"Nah, she's the same as always. Just a little tired. I saw her working out like crazy these past weeks. HEY YOU LIL CHEATER, STOP IT!"

"I'm not cheating bird brains, you just can't play. I'll share if you apologize. But Bruce is right, something's wrong. I mean I'm glad she's getting sleep but something just isn't right" Tony was dragging all of the cookies towards himself, making funny faces at pouting Clint.

"You know what? How about we play for something more valuable?" Clint asked with a smirk.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Sure am fancy tin can."

"POP TARTS!" both of them shouted at the same time. Clint was already making his way to kitchen for the box of said valuable treats when he was stopped by Thor.

"If you are going to play for my loves, you have to win against me too!"

"Thor, have you ever played poker?"

"Of course I have," he haven't, but he's been watching them play for over an hour. How hard can it possibly be?

Meanwhile Bruce sat down next to Tony, opposite of Loki.

"What about you?" Bruce asked Loki.

"What about me?" Loki took a sip of his tea, not looking up from his book.

"Well, Y/N was the first one to convince us you're not as much of a dick as we thought you are and you don't even care about her!" Tony managed to say with full mouth of his prize.

"First of all thank you for not thinking I'm a dick, second of all I do care about her and third of all she's just tired. You said it yourself Stark. I'll check up on her when she's rested."

"Get in line Rudolf. Bruce, do you want to play?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Clint and Thor arrived with two giant boxes of Pop tarts and started to sort it out into four piles.

Loki just rolled his eyes, got up and walked towards elevators.

*knock* "Y/N? Are you there?"

Oh shit.

Why was Loki here? Of all people why him? Right when you finally ran out of tears to shed. You didn't even need to look into a mirror to know how you looked like. Puffy red eyes, wet face, runny nose and bird's nest for hair. Just great.

"Yeah, what do you want?" even your voice sounded like you've been crying for two hours straight, which you did.

"Y/N, are you okay? Can I come in? Please?"

"Yeah," you murmured loud enough for him to hear.

He opened the door and walked straight to you, cupping your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Sweetheart, were you crying? Who hurt you?" you could hear the pain in his voice. Why did he care all of a sudden? Did boys ditch him?

"No one, I'm fine. Really. I was just watching a very sad movie and it made me cry, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I mean, have you seen it? I bet you would cry too," 'but you don't have time on me and my silly movies' you added in your head.

"Well, guys are playing cards for sweets and girls are out wasting money on accessories they will never wear and I have currwntly nothing to do. Let's watch the movie that upset you so."

'If only it was the movie that really made me cry' you thought and put the movie on.

#loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #avengers #Avengers fanfiction #loki angst #loki fluff

46 notes · View notes

tagsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

From @hodgehegposts

to @eirabach

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

It had all started one, late, night, when Alan was back on duty on the Island and Brandon was busy halfway around the world trying to piece together enough footage to keep his vlog going over the next few weeks so that he could visit Alan without having to worry about not producing content. Their relationship seemed to be walking the tightrope that their two competing schedules spun, relying on snatched moments of contact over vid-calls and flying visits, but for the moment it was working for them. Brandon knew, deep in his heart, that the moment that it seemed to be getting too much, that it wasn’t enough any more to sustain themselves with these brief glimpses, that he would leave to go to the Island and be with Alan full time, if Alan would let him, knowing that Alan could never give up International Rescue even if he tried, but they hadn’t reached that stage yet. For now, they were coping, for now it was okay, even if it was at times tiring.

“Do you ever think,” Alan had said that one late night, huddled up in bed and cradling his comms device close to him. “Do you ever think that like, this isn’t the only universe?”

“What do you mean?” Brandon had asked, hair tousled from sleep, a mug of coffee on his bedside table growing cold.

“Like, do you think that maybe somewhere else, there’s an Alan and a Brandon who are able to spend all their time together? Like, an Alan and a Brandon where there isn’t an International Rescue, or whatever?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“I think there is. I think there are infinite universes, each with something different in them, with infinite Alans and Brandons, all with their different lives.”

Brandon had just smiled, because only Alan would ever think to say something like that.

Meanwhile, in another universe...

It was cold, snow piled high along the edges of the sidewalk and the sky had been heavy with the threat of more for the past week. It was one of those long, dark winters that made people want to hibernate, to stay inside with blankets and hot chocolate and fluffy socks. People didn’t, of course, because life didn’t stop just because it was a harsh winter, but that didn’t meant that there weren’t appreciative smiles when people stepped inside and into warmth, shedding coats, hats, scarves and gloves like they were a second skin, stamping on the doormat to shake off the snow from boots and blowing on frozen fingertips.

That hustle and bustle wasn’t present this morning, though. The city was sleepy and still, the late rising sun staining the sky with a fiery orange, a spot of bright vibrancy in the otherwise stark weather. It didn’t matter, though, how beautiful the orange was, because those who were up to see it were already focused on other things, on family and sugar and laughter. In a tiny, cramped apartment with dodgy radiators and plants spilling across the countertops, buttery yellow curtains at the window and a blue sofa that seemed too big for the space it had been squeezed into, a young couple were smiling, the radio playing softly in the background whilst one of them tried to cook and the other instructed from the kitchen table, a plaster clad leg propped up on a stool and pile of cushions.

“Are you sure that’s right? It looks like a mess,” Alan said, frowning at the bowl in front of him. Brandon rolled his eyes, shifting a little in his seat.

“Yes.”

“But it doesn’t look like cookie dough.”

“That’s because you haven’t added the flour yet.”

“It looks like shit.”

“Alan,” said Brandon, aiming for stern but missing when he wasn’t able to completely hide his grin. “It’s supposed to look like that. That’s what happens when you add the wet ingredients and dry ingredients together separately.”

“Are you sure though? You’ve seen my grandma’s cooking, the stories of food poisoning were not exaggerated, and I really really don’t want to find out that I managed to inherit those genes on Christmas Day. We’ve spent enough time in the emergency room for this month.”

The tone was light and teasing, but Brandon could see the worry that still flashed through Alan’s eyes at the memory of the snowboarding accident, the way his hand tightened ever so slightly around the mixing spoon, and Brnadon wished he could stand and cross the small kitchen, wished he could kiss away all of his eyes boyfriend’s stress and bad memories. Instead, he went for a wry half smile, flicking a stray chocolate chip from the small pile given to him by Alan when he had pouted over not being able to steal any.

“Hey,” Brandon said, trying to lift the atmosphere that was starting to settle. “I’m okay. And I know how to make cookies, and I trust you. Don’t stress, okay?”

“...Okay,” Alan agreed, giving Brandon a small, tentative smile. Brandon huffed.

“Alan, it’s fine.” He reached across the table, only just managing to brush the very end of his fingertips across Alan’s soft hoodie, but Alan got the message, moving around the table and bending down so Brandon could give him a small, reassuring kiss. “Just chill, yeah? It’s Christmas. And you promised me cookies for breakfast and I plan on holding you to that, so better get baking.”

“So demanding,” Alan teased, still leaning over Brandon.

“You love it.”

“I do.” He gave Brandon one last, sweet, kiss before straightening back up and returning to the kitchen counter. “Right then. Flour.”

“Yep. All purpose, one cup.” Brandon sat back, crunching on another chocolate chip and trying (and failing) not to laugh when Alan dumped a cup of flour into the mixture with a heavy hand and caused a white cloud to puff up into his face.

***

Later, when the sun had finally risen properly and the air outside was light, bright and clear, despite the freezing temperatures such weather brought with it, Alan and Brandon were tucked side by side on the blue sofa, sharing one of the many blankets Gordon had gifted Alan with when Alan had first moved to Colorado. Alan had protested at the time, but Gordon had pointed out that LA was different to Denver, and Alan would thank him later. Alan had rolled his eyes petulantly and hadn’t, in fact, thanked him, but he could at least appreciate the usefulness of them, even if they were a particularly ugly shade of yellow that didn’t match their curtains and only Gordon and Brandon seemed to like.

It may be ugly (in Alan’s opinion, not that he was famed for his interior design skills), but it’s soft and warm and, most importantly, big enough to cover the two of them, Alan tucked into Brandon’s side whilst Brandon sat diagonally in the corner seat, broken leg stretched out and propped up on a stack of Alan’s old textbooks, softened by one of the cushions taken from the sofa. There was an untouched plate of cookies on Brandon’s lap and a cheesy Christmas film that was playing on the television in the background, going mostly ignored. It was soft and sweet and domestic in the living room that was barely bigger than the kitchen, if two separate rooms could even be made distinct given that it was a large bookshelf that marked a divide, full of books, trinkets and photographs, rather than an actual wall.

“...are you going to try one?” Alan asked eventually, breaking the comfortable quiet. Brandon’s eyebrow raised, but he lifted a cookie to his mouth, taking a large bite and not breaking his gaze on Alan. Alan could feel himself blush, waiting with baited breath as Brandon chewed swallowed, eventually ducking his head into Brandon’s shoulder. Alan could still feel his eyes burning into him as the silence stretched. “Well? And stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous.”

“Well…”

“Oh God. I've poisoned you, haven't I? They’re awful. We should’ve just stuck to cereal, and now I’ll have to write your eulogy where I explain to everyone that it was my lack of baking skills that killed you-”

“Alan. Shut up. They’re good.”

“...what?”

“They’re good.” He shifted, dislodging Alan enough so that he could kiss him softly, the taste of chocolate chips and sugar on his lips. “Thank you, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Brandon,” Alan mumbled into the kiss, not willing to pull away. He could feel Brandon’s lips pull up into a smile against his own.

“Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Meanwhile, in another universe…

Brandon had always, always, associated Christmas with snow. As a child, his family had always jetted off to spend Christmas abroad in some picturesque, aesthetically pleasing place with the backdrop of snow and pine needles, choosing to spend the Christmas holiday in a bed not their own and paint the picture of a happy, perfect family that had made Brandon want to scream when he was old enough to understand the hypocrisy of it all. It hadn't been any better as Brandon got older and he was shipped off to work for his godfather in a bid to curb some of his wild tendencies. It hadn’t really worked, of course, because Lemaire was just as wild as Brandon in his projects, albeit with the benefit of dressing it up as a need to explore, rather than to satisfy his own endless curiosity and need for adrenaline, but at least now Brandon had a better understanding of the importance of a carefully curated public persona, why aesthetic shots of dreamy wooden chalets to paint a false image was important.

Still. Just because he could now appreciate his family’s motivations, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to jump at the chance to spend Christmas with Alan, when the idea was first proposed, complete with shy blushes and a hopeful, tentative smile. Brandon had simply kissed Alan, hard, and given his now breathless boyfriend the biggest smile possible that told him just how excellent an idea that was.

Brandon was supposed to have arrived on the twenty-second of December, enough time to acclimatise to the Island and meet everyone before the main festivities began, but this got pushed back to the twenty-third and then again to the twenty-fourth, when a bright pink car pulled up outside his apartment and a person who was decidedly not Alan stepped out, a small pug in a seasonal red jumper held securely under one arm whilst the other was outstretched for Brandon to shake the perfectly manicured hand.

“Brandon? Alan is terribly sorry, he was desperately keen to come and get you himself but unfortunately rescues have held all of them up and you’ve just been stuck with me. I do hope you don’t mind. I’m Penelope Creighton-Ward.”

“It’s fine,” Brandon assured, finally able to place a face to Gordon’s girlfriend that Alan had mentioned once or twice before. He ducked quickly into his hallway to pick up his bags and followed Penelope to the car.

The flight to the Island was pleasant enough, Penelope making polite conversation as they crossed the ocean, but Brandon was feeling increasingly impatient, a feeling that didn’t dissipate until they had landed and he was finally, finally, back in Alan’s arms. Luckily, only Gordon and Alan were around and it was easy to sneak back to Alan’s bedroom to exchange kisses and private smiles, drinking in each other’s presence now that they were together again.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come and get you,” Alan said eventually, cuddled up into Brandon’s side and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Stupid space pirate ghosts.”

The hand that Brandon was using to card through Alan’s hair stilled, and he looked down at him in confusion, Alan’s soft hair tickling his nose. “The… what?”

“Space pirate ghosts,” Alan repeated, mumbling through a yawn. “Met them before but they’re so annoying.”

“If you say so.”

“They are, you’re lucky you haven’t met them. They just cause so many problems and steal my astro-boards all the time. So annoying.”

“Space pirate ghosts?”

“Yes. Or space ghost pirates if you prefer.”

“I think you need to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm,” Alan agreed. It wasn’t a tacit agreement, but Alan’s breaths started to even out and Brandon had resumed the gentle strokes through his hair. It wasn’t long before the two of them were sound asleep, tangled and pressed close together as the sun began to rise on Christmas Day.

Meanwhile, in another universe…

Everything was beautiful. It was beautiful and perfect and tasteful, from the canapés and trays of drinks being carried unobtrusively around the edges of the room to the elegant decoration of holly and pine, a great Christmas tree standing at the opposite end to the hall where the band was playing, soft white lights twinkling from where they had been wrapped around the branches and catching on the red and gold glass baubles and causing them to shine in bright spots of colour that culminated in a great, golden sunburst of a star at the top of the tree. The music was loud enough to cover people’s conversations and provide a semblance of privacy, but not too loud that the guests had to shout at each other, playing a wide range of popular carols and songs that had prompted enough people to take to the dance floor that it was now quite full.

None of that mattered to Brandon, however. Nothing mattered at all, hadn’t mattered the moment the Tracy family had stepped through the great doors in full force, all decked out in their smart suits and commanding attention without even trying. Lady Penelope had glided forward in full hostess mood, greeting Jeff Tracy first with a kiss to each cheek and a musical laugh to whatever comment he made to her, before turning to each of the brothers and welcoming them each with a kiss of their own, leaving Gordon until last and breaking the pattern with a swift kiss to the lips. Brandon watched as Gordon had beamed, his entire person brightening up even more, brighter than the sun, and Brandon had to squash the pang of longing and jealousy forcefully. It wasn’t fair to indulge in those feelings. He and Alan had talked about it, had agreed to keep things just between them for now whilst things were so new and Alan still hadn’t, actually, come out to his family, and it was fine. Brandon loved Alan more than anything and wouldn’t ask anything from Alan that would make him uncomfortable, wouldn’t even think to ask.

Still, watching as Gordon pressed a kiss to Penelope’s hand and guided her onto the dance floor to spin her around in time to the music, Brandon couldn’t help the small part of him that wished that one day, he’d be able to scoop Alan up and sway with him on the dance floor as well.

***

It didn’t take long for Alan to find him, or for him to find Alan, or for the two of them to gravitate together because really, they were like magnets in the way they managed to always seek each other out at gatherings like these. One of the advantages of being related to rich, powerful families was that they were often at gatherings for rich, powerful people and it was perfectly natural that a friendship would have sprung up between the two of them, providing a perfect cover story for their meet-ups. Even still, when they did inevitably find each other that evening, it was in a secluded doorway that seemed to be mostly hidden from the rest of the room, a door almost hidden by a heavy velvet curtain that Brandon was currently standing behind as he pressed Alan into the door frame, their lips sliding urgently over each other as hands gripped at suit jackets.

“Wait,” Alan gasped breathlessly, pulling back to gaze heavy lidded at Brandon. His lips were pink and puffy, and Brandon couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss them once, twice, three times more. Alan’s hands moved from where he was pulling Brandon’s hips closer to cup his cheeks instead, stopping Brandon from being able to distract him further. “I have something to tell you.”

“Can it wait?” asked Brandon, his question more of a plea.

“It’s important.”

“Alan…”

“I came out to my dad.”

That pulled Brandon up short, stopped him from trying to drop kisses down Alan’s neck, choosing to look Alan in the eye instead as he tried to gauge Alan’s feelings towards coming out to his dad.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I um… I told him that I had a boyfriend. I didn’t say it was you, because I know we agreed to go slow for now and not tell a whole bunch of people and I wanted to talk to you first before Dad knows, but yeah. He was okay about it and now he knows. He knows I like guys. Or I guess a guy. A specific guy. You-“

Brandon cut Alan’s nervous rambling off with a searing kiss, trying to pour as much love and support as possible into it until his brain managed to come up with adequate words to say. The moan Alan rewarded him with indicated Brandon’s success.

“I love you, so much. I’m so proud of you,” Brandon said when they finally pulled apart, thumb brushing the nape of Alan’s neck and arms resting on his shoulders. Alan’s face split into the widest grin.

“I love you too.”

“Are you staying the night?” Brandon asked, already tipping forward for another kiss, pushing Alan further back into the wall.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re amazing, hot as hell and we’ve been kissing for a while now and I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go back out with all those fancy people including our families.”

“...fuck.”

“My point exactly.”

“Follow me, I know a shortcut.”

Alan took one of Brandon’s hands, lacing their fingers together, and fumbled for the door behind them. Just as he was tugging Brandon through it, Brandon reached up and snagged the branch of mistletoe that was hanging unobtrusively above it, winking at Alan’s questioning look.

“For later,” he promised, and tried not to laugh as Alan started pulling him through the manor at a quicker pace.

Meanwhile, in this universe…

Brandon stifled a smile when he saw Alan yawn for the fifth time, easily making the calculations that were by now second nature when trying to determine the time zones and working out that it had now gone midnight for Alan and that Alan really needed to sleep. The conversation had drifted and meandered along, as it was prone to do when the two of them were talking, but Brandon couldn’t stop thinking about what Alan had said earlier, about the different universes with the different Alans and Brandons.

“Hey, Alan,” he said, and Alan blinked at him sleepily, already curled on his side with one arm tucked under his pillow.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re right. About the different universes.”

“Of course. I’m super smart,” he bragged, and Brandon rolled his eyes, the move tempered by his huffed laugh.

“I know baby. But I think, even with all those different universes, there isn’t a single one where we don’t find each other.”

“No?”

“No. I think in every one we’re together, and that we’re happy.”

“I’m happy in this one. With you.”

“I know. And I’ll be with you tomorrow. Well. My tomorrow.”

“I know. I love you, Brandon.

“I love you too. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“See you at Christmas.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #Brandon Berringer #alan tracy #hodgehegposts

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 270: Harry Potter Rules

Previously on BnHA: Present Mic punched Ujiko in the face! It was awesome. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo of it. Meanwhile Endeavor saved Mirko’s life by setting her on fire (reason #15 why I will never become a superhero), and Aizawa did some sexy Spider-Man poses for our viewing pleasure while fighting the rest of these Noumus which are still annoyingly refusing to die. Anyway but back to Present Mic, the undisputed MVP of this chapter. Because you see, in addition to the punching, he also used his Loud Voice attack (literally the actual attack name; Horikoshi will steal all of my jokes and leave me with nothing) to smash open Tomura’s Noumutank! Which I really thought was going to immediately lead to Everyone Dying, but apparently I was wrong! Anyways so yeah, right now Tomura’s just lying down all heart-stopped and not-breathing. Which seems very anticlimactic, BUT I JUST HAVE THE CRAZIEST FEELING that maybe, just maybe, the super powerful villain lad who just spent the last three arcs slowly upgrading his bad self just in time to wage war on the world as the story reaches its climax, might not actually be dead though.

Today on BnHA: DON’T MIND THAT OMINOUS ORGAN MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, IT’S NOTHING, IGNORE IT. Ahem. So first of all, as some of the bolder among us dared to speculate, Tomura is not, in fact, dead. He’s still very much kicking it with his nipple-less pecs and truffula tree hair, putzing around in his mental landscape filled with crumbled buildings and disembodied Theatrical Gesture Hands. For some reason he doesn’t have shoes or a shirt in his mental landscape, which was a very interesting choice on Horikoshi’s part, but we will speak no more of it. Anyway so to sum things up, Tomura’s family is all “TENKO WE LOVE YOU” and he’s all “oh hey” and then AFO fucking appears and he’s all “COME HERE MY BOY” which is exactly as creepy as you would expect, and for some fucking reason TOMURA ACTUALLY DOES COME HERE. And lol it turns out Ujiko gave him AFO. Like the quirk. Yes, that quirk. So long story short, Tomura is about to be possessed by AFO’s evil soul or some shit, and to put the cherry on top, fucking Deku out of fucking nowhere, MILES AWAY, is all “HE’S COMING.” Because of course he can sense it, because AFOFA IS REAL, AND FUCK ME THIS IS ALL HAPPENING TOO FAST, FUCK.

I know this chapter has been out since like 1pm, but I’m not getting to read it until 5 hours later because for once in my life I was trying to be responsible and actually get some work done on a Friday. I thought this might lead to less oh-god-I-still-have-to-get-that-done anxiety hovering over my weekend, but instead it just led to oh-god-I-have-to-get-the-chapter-recap-done anxiety hovering over my now! anyways so this might be a bit rushed lol

(ETA: yeah turns out this wasn’t exactly the kind of chapter you could just read quickly and get on with your life lmao. so, then!)

what a nice panel of Present Mic taking out the trash

you heard ‘em fellas. the doctor is secured. good job everyone we did it, manga over, congratulations. now to cut away to a two-page spread of Dark Shadow comically smothering Dabi’s flames with a giant stock pot lid, and that’ll be that! what a wonderful, extremely short and strangely underwhelming arc in which we haven’t even seen the actual main characters do anything yet. but I guess we don’t need them since the main bad guy is lying dead on the floor! everything is just so fucking dead and secured!! do you think if I keep repeating it enough Horikoshi will finally be like “okay geez I get it” and reveal his hand already

Mic is now ordering Ujiko to power down the Noumu, which again, I’m sure he will definitely do without a fuss since after all the good guys have clearly won the day

OH SHIT OH FUCK

rip X-Less. gonna just take a moment here to imprint your beautiful face onto my memory before it turns into a pile of ash. your face, I mean. not my memory. well my memory more or less already is a pile of ash but that’s neither here nor there ANYWAYS

:’)

what are these little sound effects. I think that’s supposed to be a buzzing noise?? anyways whatever it is PLEASE STOP IT, I AM NOT HAVING A NICE TIME SO STOP

ffff Horikoshi sure has done an excellent job of setting the mood in such a way that all of these panels of X-Less doing incredibly mild things are sending my stress levels through the roof. like is anyone else reading his lines more or less like “WELP, TIME FOR ME TO DIE, ANY SECOND NOW, WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, HERE IT COMES”

(ETA: when is this poor sweet innocent man going to fucking die already.)

LET’S CUT BACK TO MIC ESCAPING THE IMMEDIATE VICINITY

I have the clearest mental image of Horikoshi standing by with a walkie talkie in one hand and one of those remote bomb detonation clicky switch thingies in the other, patiently waiting to receive the go-ahead once all of the important characters have gotten to safety

anyway so now Ujiko is talking again

no fear everyone this is just the beginning of his verbal noumu deactivation sequence. nothing to worry about. everything is fine

yes for some reason his code phrase to put all the noumus back to sleep involves going into rambling detail about his work researching quirk singularities and shit. it’s fine. it’s not a big deal. code phrases are just like that sometimes all right

just ignore the increasingly panicked look in Mic’s eye as he slowly realizes he was way too fucking keen to just leave the “dead” Tomura back there with his laser-eyed hero buddy. anyway so let’s continue learning all about the Quirk Illuminati or whatever the fuck

okay so... he faked his own death? 70 years ago, at age 50 or thereabouts? I mean, that’s interesting and all I guess. not saying I wouldn’t be thrilled to spend the rest of this chapter learning all about Ujiko’s boring evil life. I don’t need to say it because it’s implied on account of Ujiko sucks and is the worst. so yeah can we get a move on though

oh shit?!?

WHOSE NARRATION IS THAT IN THE BOXES TOMURA IS THAT YOU OH GOD OH GOD

also, comparing AFO’s smile to a buddha’s really sent an actual shudder of disgust down my spine for some reason lmao. I personally would have steered that comparison in a different area, maybe less to buddhas and more to Norman Bates from Psycho, but to each their own

oh shit wait up

okay but this is actually a pretty big revelation though, isn’t it? because it’s been hinted for a while now that AFO and Ujiko had some method of duplicating quirks (the fact that all the Noumu share the same regeneration quirk was the biggest clue, but there was also John-chan’s quirk, as well as Hood’s Muscular-esque quirk), but as far as I can recall, this is the first time we’ve had it confirmed. though to be fair I wasn’t joking when I said my memory really has been shit lately sob

anyway so for real though, can you really call it a BnHA chapter if you’re not spending a good chunk of it being hopelessly confused over the ownership of some ambiguous thought bubbles. WHO IS THIS. I do seriously feel like it’s Tomura, because he’s the wrathful one, but another hallmark of a typical BnHA chapter is me constantly questioning everything I know as I muddle my way through

(ETA: yeah I’m pretty sure it was him. still impressive how vague it is though! it could also potentially be Ujiko, Mic, or even Deku. hopefully Caleb’s translation on Sunday can shed some more light on this. though he wasn’t really helpful last time this happened lol.)

SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

didn’t... you just... say that “preservation” was your quirk?? what do you mean that you wanted it?? CAN YOU JUST FINISH YOUR SENTENCES LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

anyway so here’s a summary of this chapter thus far

present mic: okay goodbye forever x-less

x-less: what a strange thing to say! :) also is it just me or is this machine fucking staring at me

present mic: turn the noumu off please

ujiko: seventy years ago... society... singularity... he’d be 120 years old now...

??: [REPULSIVE FEELING EW WHO’S TOUCHING ME]

ujiko: all for one has the smile of an angel...

??: [SON OF A BITCH I’M SO FUCKING WRATHFUL]

ujiko: my quirk... preservation... the truth is... my quirk... preservation... the truth is... my quirk...

all caught up?? grand. also btw is anyone else super disturbed by the fact that Ujiko recognizes Mic as being “Kurogiri’s friend”, like holy shit though? how would he know that. I can’t think of any implications of this that aren’t super disturbing tbh

anyways back to -- LOL WHAT THE

Horikoshi Kouhei: [furiously scribbling notes to himself at 3am] BUT WHAT IF THE FOLDING CITY FROM “INCEPTION” HAD MORE GIANT HANDS

jesus christ. is this like some mental representation of what shit is currently like in Tomura’s mind? lots of crumbly destruction and traffic lights and the house his father built (isn’t it? I feel like it looks familiar), and SO MANY HANDS, HE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS

anyway so at this point it’s a coin toss whether or not anything in this fucking chapter is ever going to make any kind of fucking sense! but here I am voluntarily along for the ride while Gene Wilder sings that creepy boat song right in my ear!

DSFKLDSJ

ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF SOMEONE WHO HAS BEEN FLOATING IN A JAR FOR THREE MONTHS TBH. that is some luscious quarantine hair

SDFLKJSDLFKJSLKFDHLKSDJFLKJLKSDJL:FKJSDL:KJ

(ETA: that Tomura in the top left may be my new favorite panel. look at him. all he is is a nose and chin and ~*~HAIR~*~.)

HANAAAAAA AHHHHHH OH MY LORD OH MY LORD! OKAY I’M FINALLY PAYING ATTENTION NOW FOR REAL! NO MORE JOKES! EVERYBODY SHHHH!!!

FFFFFFFFFF

“LOOK AT ME I’M A MAIN CHARACTER I CAN HAVE STRANGE VISIONS AND TALK TO DEAD PEOPLE IN MY DREAMS, SOUND LIKE ANYBODY ELSE YOU KNOW?” TOMURA SHUT UP I DON’T HAVE TIME TO ANALYZE THIS SCENE THEMATICALLY RIGHT NOW I’M TOO BUSY BEING SAD ABOUT YOUR DEAD SISTER WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY CALCULATING THE ODDS OF THIS SOMEHOW BEING FORESHADOWING FOR HER NOT REALLY BEING DEAD. OH GOD, OH FUCK YOU GUYS, I’M FREAKING OUT

WHAT KIND OF YOUNGER BROTHER DOESN’T CALL HIS OLDER SISTER “NEECHAN” TOMURA WHAT KIND OF ANIME CHARACTER ARE YOU

AT THIS POINT HIS HAIR IS ITS OWN INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER WITH THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS WOW

HORIKOSHI PLEASE STOP SHAKING THIS CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE OF SIBLING FEELS SO VIGOROUSLY I AM SO TERRIBLY AFRAID OH GOD

“BY THE WAY TENKO I JUST HAVE TO SAY, YOUR MAN BOOBS ARE SERIOUSLY IMPRESSIVE AND YOU SHOULD BE VERY PROUD.” YES HANA I WAS JUST GOING TO SAY. HOW ASTUTE OF YOU TO POINT THAT OUT. BOY HAS BEEN HITTING THAT BOWFLEX

WTAF IS HIS HAIR THOUGH SERIOUSLY??!

IS IT JUST ME OR IS THIS DIALOGUE BUBBLE ACTUALLY COMING FROM THE HAIR ITSELF. TOMURA. TOMURA BLINK TWICE IF YOU ARE IN DANGER

SJJKJSKJSW

TENKO IT’S ME YOUR GIANT MOM I’M BEHIND YOU HONEY TURN AROUND AND LOOK HELLO HI I LOVE YOU DO YOU STILL WANT TO BE A HERO

ffff why is he so pretty all the time lately

you are very handsome with your billowy hair and ken doll abs, you. sure are having a lot of trippy visions for a dead guy too there

HEY!!!!

WHO SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED -- DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST -- ffffffffff I need to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes fuck

okay well. but since it is getting late I guess we’ll just pack these feelings up real quick and put them inside a box and neatly label it “feelings I have about Tomura having a vision of his mom and immediately turning back into his innocent little boy self in said vision as soon as he sees her.” not too sure about the contents of this box yet but I will have to explore them thoroughly at a later date

oh hey it’s this asshole

“THAT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO, DAD.” jesus Kotaro. get over it

and also guess what, if you go and get Tomura all riled up so he wakes up grumpy and disintegrates the first hapless guy he sees, I will hold you solely responsible for that poor man’s death. I’m just warning you now

oh my

I remember this conversation going a bit differently the last time, but hey

LOOOOOOL

HIGH FIVE. PUT ‘ER THERE

WHY WOULD YOU LOOK SO SURPRISED LOL DID YOU NOT JUST TURN TOWARDS HIM WITH A SINISTER MURDER FACE LIKE TWO SECONDS AGO. LIKE WTF DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN

OH NO OH SHIT

FUCK ME, GUESS IT WOULDN’T BE A DRAMATIC BNHA DREAM SEQUENCE IF THIS ASSHOLE DIDN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE AT SOME POINT OR OTHER NOW WOULD IT

-- HOLY SHIT?!

RECORD SCRATCH, FREEZE FRAME??

holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit

holy shit. fuck

...okay so

is this implying that AFO has been Noumufied? but that doesn’t make any sense, does it? he already had multiple quirks. what other advantages could there be to him becoming a Noumu. well whatever I’m just typing out all of my thoughts real fast for the time being and I’ll try to make sense of them later

or is it because he sees Kurogiri as a father figure? and AFO also?

or is he using Kurogiri’s quirk????? IS HE SOMEHOW WARPING INTO TOMURA’S DREAMS

because that third one, to me, is what this panel most looks like? Tomura says he looks like Kuro, but he doesn’t though. Kuro has a very distinctive face which this is very much lacking. instead it looks to me much more like one of Kurogiri’s portals, with AFO’s buddhaesque smile sticking out. so yeah. I got nothin’. except, again, fuck

(ETA: yeah I obviously have more thoughts about this now, but we’ll get to those in a bit.)

...

.......

-- !!!!!!!!!!LKJLK!JLKJ

oh shit oh shit oh shit

OH SHIT

NO BABY NO DON’T DO IT

GASP

THEY’RE TRYING TO SAVE HIM AHHHH

I HAVE LIKE TEN THOUSAND THOUGHTS IN MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW YET SOMEHOW MY MIND IS ALSO STRANGELY BLANK?? I DON’T EVEN KNOW?? I’LL JUST KEEP READING

KOTARO ARE YOU TRYING TO HELP HIM OR ARE YOU PULLING HIM TOWARD AFO??

OH HE’S PUSHING HIM BACK!! OH SHIT IT’S A WHOLE FAMILY EFFORT

THEY’RE TRYING TO SAVE HIM AFO IS GOING TO TAKE HIM OVER AND THEY’RE TRYING TO PROTECT HIM OH GOD OH JESUS

BABY TENKO EYES OH MY GOD HE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE DEKU THAT I THOUGHT IT WAS DEKU FOR A MOMENT

NO TENKO!!!

FUCK -- DOES HE NOT CARE? HE ACTUALLY UNDERSTANDS WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN BUT HE DOESN’T CARE?? IS HE TRULY SO PROFOUNDLY MISERABLE THAT HE’D GO AHEAD AND ACCEPT THIS FATE WILLINGLY

NO SOUNDS. NO WORDS. YOU COULD HEAR A PIN DROP IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW

except that I have the most incredible, chilling, disturbing, electrifying feeling that my mental soundtrack is about to start blaring AFO’s theme from the anime on full blast...!

LOOOOOL SOB OH FUCKK

THE MOST TERRIFYING, DRAMATIC KIP UP YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE!! THIS IS IT, IT’S BEEN REAL FRIENDS, THIS IS WHERE WE DIE

-- ARE YOU REALLY, TRULY, GENUINELY SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW

NOW OF ALL TIMES IS WHEN WE FINALLY CUT TO THE TRIO, I’M CAN’T, I’M FUCK

AND THAT’S THE END AHHHHH

holy shit holy shit holy shit. wow

okay so. I don’t really have any sort of neat and tidy way to wrap up this hot mess of a recap lol. so, just... have a whole mess of all of my stupid whirling thoughts

those first four pages really did nothing to brace me at all lol

okay, so. here’s my understanding of all this, I guess. basically we’re going full Harry Potter rules here. AFO horcruxed his quirk, and from the looks of it, a piece of his soul (perhaps even the main piece) along with it. he then passed it on to Ujiko to implant into Tomura

horcrux!AFO then wakes up, and takes over Tomura. so then my understanding is that he’s going to be possessed by him. and I also got the impression that he’s fully aware of that, but just doesn’t care at this point. he knew his family was trying to warn him, but he didn’t care. and that look in his eyes when he disintegrated them just seemed so fucking resigned to me, though. jesus

but now the more interesting thing! so we can liken Tomura to the resurrected Voldemort from book 5 and onward, reborn after transferring his power into a new vessel. which would go a long way toward explaining how AFO was able to sense what was happening from all the way in Tartarus; because if we liken it to Voldemort and his horcruxes, it would mean that he still has a connection to them (similar to the connection between Voldemort’s mind and Harry’s)

but so now comes the really interesting thing -- what does this then imply about the connection between AFO and Deku? because you’ll recall that AFO alluded to a similar mental connection back when Deku first activated SIXQUIRKS. and now we have Deku somehow being magically aware of AFO’s sudden resurgent presence in this chapter. but why?? if the reason AFO and Tomura share a psychic link is because of a shared quirk, why would Deku also be experiencing the same link? the answer is, he wouldn’t -- unless he, too, had the same shared quirk

in other words, I think All for One for All is fucking confirmed you guys. I can’t think of any explanation for this other than that OFA is also a horcrux quirk. a little piece of AFO broken off and embedded in his brother, and then passed along through the generations. and now residing within Deku

anyway. so that’s a hell of a lot to ponder lol. I guess we can at least be grateful for the fact that we’re not waiting two weeks for chapter 271 like Hori originally planned. can you fucking imagine. what a fucking asshole lol

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inkedstarlight · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter 8

Summary: Nesta struggles with the aftermath of Tomas’s actions. Meanwhile, Cassian finally makes his grand entrance. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: non-explicit mentions of sexual assault and dealing with that trauma Bittersweet Masterlist

It was Thursday.

Nesta only knew that because it was the day of her final exam.

And because two days ago, Tomas tried to rape her.

When she had returned home that night, she received a text from him.

Tell anyone about what happened and I will ruin your fucking life. Don’t test me.

After reading those two sentences at least a dozen times over, she’d rushed to the bathroom and emptied her stomach until she was dry heaving.

Elain had been sound asleep on the couch when Nesta crept into their apartment in the late hours of the night. The television was still on, reruns of “The Great British Baking” show playing quietly in the background. Nesta had covered her sister with a knit blanket and shut the television off before retreating to her bedroom.

She made the mistake of looking in the mirror that hung above her dresser. Staring back at her was a girl with hollow eyes and downturned lips. The girl’s clothes were rumpled, her makeup smudged. Dark purple newly formed bruises tainted the entire length of her neck.

She didn’t recognize herself.

Nesta didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t even because of Tomas’s threat. It just… it didn’t really matter. There wasn’t anything she could do to fix it. It happened and now it was over. Not to mention that Nesta had driven to his house with the intent of seducing him. She was the one who decided to cheat, to wear that provocative outfit.

It didn’t hurt that Tomas was a straight, white male. That he had sway with the professor. Even if Nesta decided to testify against him, she could already predict the outcome: Tomas denies the accusation, gets off with a warning, and Nesta is forced to continue working with him. It was plain and simple. His privilege outranked her trauma.

But even though Nesta hadn’t spoken a word about the incident, Elain was quick to realize that something was wrong. She’d always been good at reading people, especially Nesta. Elain used to say that she could pick up on other’s emotions and it was almost as if she felt them herself. Elain didn’t know exactly what was wrong with Nesta. She noticed the change in her behavior despite Nesta’s attempt to continue to function like a normal human. Elain had tried to get it out of Nesta, to no avail. Nesta insisted that everything was okay. Because it was.

She kept functioning. She showed up for work. Attended her classes. Got out of bed every day. In fact, she was so busy that she didn’t even have the time to think about that night. She took melatonin at night and fell asleep instantly. Nesta was fine.

And now it was Thursday. She was seated in class waiting for the Fictional Techniques exam to be proctored. Over the last two days, she’d managed to buckle down and concentrate on studying. She got a good amount done. Enough to at least pass the damn thing.

But then he walked in.

Nesta froze. Tomas put his things down on his desk and rummaged around. Like everything was normal. Like that night never happened. Like she wasn’t trembling in her seat in terror.

There was nothing Nesta hated more than allowing herself to be vulnerable enough to be scared.

She didn’t think he’d come to the exam itself. T.A.’s had no reason to be present. Typically, it was only the professor. And she especially didn’t think he’d come after the events that’d transpired just days ago.

But Gods, she was so stupid to think he wouldn’t.

Nesta watched as the professor gave him the pile of exams to hand out.

No.

Nesta’s eyes shot to the doors to her right. She could leave right now without Tomas noticing her. She would just need to sneak out the doors quietly. But the professor’s desk was right next to the exit, and there was no way Nesta could slip past her without drawing attention to herself.

All she could do was wait as Tomas went up and down the rows of desks. She stared down at her hands unmoving as she heard him approach. He was silent when he set the paper down in front of her. But as he walked past, she felt his fingers brush her bruised neck and subtly tug on the ends of her hair.

Nesta was frozen.

“You may begin,” the professor announced from the front of the room. They had two hours to complete the exam.

Nesta looked down at the exam on her desk. It was at least ten pages. She managed to write her name.

But when she tried to read the first question, the words blurred together. Her head was spinning as she willed herself to focus.

Two hours and then you’re done, she repeated to herself. Two hours. That's it. She let out a shaky breath.

Something told her to look up, to check to see if Tomas was near her. Nesta raised her eyes just slightly to see where he was. She didn’t have to look far.

Tomas was sitting at his desk staring at her, a leering grin on his face. He tilted his head to the side as if to mockingly say, Something wrong?

For the next two hours, Nesta didn’t breathe once.

And before she knew it, the timer was going off. She glanced down to see her blank exam. There was nothing written save her name. Not a single answer was filled out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She scrambled to write something – anything – as students passed her desk to hand in their exams. Her heart was pounding, her hands damp with sweat. Gods, she was going to fail -

“Miss Archeron, time’s up,” the professor called to her. Everyone was trickling out of the classroom. “You had your time, put down your pencil.”

Nesta’s hand was shaking as she dropped her pencil. It fell to the floor, and she didn't pick it up.

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

I haven’t seen you in weeks. Are you dead?

Nesta stared down at the text Amren had sent her several days ago. She didn’t know what to say. She was surprised when she’d received the text. Not many people ever checked in with her like that, much less someone she met only a few weeks ago.

She wanted to say, I'm not okay. Something happened. Can I see you?

But instead, Nesta ignored it.

“Are you coming tonight?” Nesta was sitting on the couch when Elain emerged from her room.

“Coming where?” She didn’t so much as glance at her sister. Her eyes were glued to the television screen. They had been for the entire day.

“Feyre’s house.”

“No,” she replied bluntly. Iroh let out a meow, and Nesta rubbed his ear.

Elain stepped in front of the television. She was putting on her earrings as she asked, "Why not? You haven't been in a while. We miss you."

Nesta snorted, finally lifting her gaze to meet Elain's quizzical brown eyes. "I seriously doubt that."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, Elain," she scoffed, throwing a hand in the air. "Haven't you noticed that you're the only one to invite me to these dinners anymore? Feyre doesn't give a shit, and Rhysand probably celebrates every time I don't show up."

Elain looked down at the floor and fidgeted. Elain was kind to everyone, but she seldom lied to preserve someone's feelings. Even Elain knew that Nesta was right, that her presence wasn't missed, that there was no point in arguing. "I care," she murmured quietly.

Nesta's heart got stuck in her throat.

Why? she wanted to yell. Why the fuck do you care about me? You're the only one left who does.

"It's just not a good time right now," Nesta explained. It was a shitty excuse, and she knew it. But what else was she supposed to say?

“Well, their friend, Cassian is finally coming home today. Apparently, this is the longest he's been deployed for. He was supposed to return last month, but it got extended," Elain told her. "Maybe that'll change things a little. They've all been so worried about him, Feyre especially. I think him being back will help with the stress she's been under and she'll be more open-minded."

Nesta sighed, not bothering to argue. She knew that Elain wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'll think about it, okay?"

It wasn't exactly a lie. Just highly improbable that she would go in the near future.

“Feyre said he’s more hotheaded than you, and that’s saying something," Elain joked, trying to cut the tension. Nesta did her best to muster a laugh. Elain's hopeful smile faltered slightly.

“Well, have fun."

Elain remained standing in front of her for a moment before the couch sank down with her weight as she sat next to where Nesta was curled into herself. Elain's delicate hand closed the space between them, and she tucked a stray hair behind her older sister’s ear.

“Is everything okay?” Elain’s voice was impossibly soft. She squeezed Nesta's hand.

Nesta willed herself not to cry. The physical gesture itself was enough to make her emotional; she hadn't even hugged someone in what felt like forever. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Silence fell between them. Nesta could practically hear the thoughts racing through Elain's mind. She was always trying to fix other people's problems. But some can't be repaired.

“You… you know you can talk to me right?” Elain said tentatively as if Nesta could blow up at any minute. Like she was fragile.

Nesta didn’t say anything. She couldn't say anything.

Elain let out a small breath, and Nesta could hear the shakiness in it.

“I think Mor made some cupcakes for dessert tonight," she tried to say brightly. Nesta could tell it was hard for her to pretend to be positive. Elain's voice softened. "I’ll bring you back a little something, yeah?”

Nesta merely stared straight ahead and nodded.

The couch creaked as Elain stood. She leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to Nesta’s forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered. Elain hesitated for a second before straightening and walking out of the room.

Nesta didn’t even hear the door close when Elain left. All she knew were the tears that rolled down her cheek, one after the other. Just when she thought they'd stop, more would come rushing down. She didn’t brush them away.

I love you too.

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

Someone was trying to open their door.

Nesta didn’t know what time it was. All she knew that someone was trying to get into their apartment. It sounded like they were trying to pick the lock.

She checked the alarm clock that sat on her nightstand. Nearly three in the morning.

Maybe it’s Elain, the rational part of her brain thought.

Nesta jumped out of her bed, tiptoeing to Elain’s bedroom. She cracked the door open slightly to find her sister fast asleep.

Nesta’s heart raced. She could only think of one person who could be behind that door.

Tomas.

He could easily find out where she lived.

But she hadn't breathed a word of the incident. Why would he be here?

Nesta closed her sister’s bedroom door, ignoring the way her body trembled. She didn’t bother waking Elain. There was no point in scaring her when Nesta was probably just being paranoid. She’d sleep through anything anyway, she slept through a goddamn fire alarm one time. Nesta grabbed the baseball bat that leaned against the hallway wall as she approached the front door.

Why the fuck do we have this? Who plays baseball in this apartment?

Nesta crept closer toward the door. She mentally cursed herself for not installing their own peephole. Or security system. Anything.

She took a deep breath before grabbing the door handle with her left hand, bat at the ready. Nesta opened the door and –

“AGH!”

“What the fuck are you -"

“WHO ARE YOU?”

“Who are you?”

Nesta blinked at the man before her, the man who wasn't attacking her. She blinked a couple times before her eyes finally adjusted to the bright lights in the hallway.

They were both breathing heavily as they sized up one another.

“This is my apartment,” he gestured to Nesta’s apartment.

The fuck?

She looked him up and down. Mostly up, thanks to his obnoxiously tall height. His chocolate hair was pulled into a small bun, loose strands framing his tanned face. Inked muscles disappeared under the sleeves of his grey shirt. He looked very disheveled, his eyes red from... exhaustion? Alcohol? Both? A suitcase was on the floor behind him, a key in his hand. When her gaze finally met his eyes, she glared at him.

“This is my apartment."

“4B?”

Gods help me.

"Did you really just wake me up because you don't know how to fucking count?" Nesta snapped, annoyance bubbling to the surface.

The man gave at her with a strange look. She sighed at his incompetence and gestured to the plaque that rested on the wall next to the door. “This is 4A. You have another floor to go, buddy.”

But the man didn’t seem to care that he had just embarrassingly forgotten where his damn apartment was as he peered closer at Nesta.

“Do I know you?” his voice was low and rough. His fingers twitched as if he was going to reach out for her.

Nesta rose a brow. He was really testing her patience. “Nope.”

“I… Did you recently move in? I’ve never seen you here before.” He dragged a hand over his stubbly five o'clock shadow with a thoughtful look. “And I would definitely remember if I had.”

Nesta snorted despite the fatigue that plagued her body. “Does that usually work for you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That line. ‘Oh, I could never forget such a beautiful thing like you,’” her voice lowered as she mockingly imitated the man in front of her.

The man looked like he could burst out laughing. Nesta crossed her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him. What the fuck is he laughing about?

“I didn’t say it was your looks that are unforgettable,” he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Nah, it’s more the signature death glare and callous attitude.”

Normally, Nesta would either shoot an insult right back at him or throw a punch. But she wasn't in the mood. Not to be talking to someone in the ungodly hours of the night or to test a stranger's patience. Especially not a stranger who looked like he could easily break through the door and hurt her.

Nesta's stomach sunk at that last thought. Her eyes shuttered closed for the briefest of moments as she reigned in her anger. When she opened them again, a flash of concern seemed to cross the man's face.

She didn't give him the chance to say another word. She was done with him, with this entire conversation. Gods, all she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep until the world fell away and her mind was quiet.

“Good luck finding your apartment. If you wake me up one more time tonight, I won't hesitate to use this," Nesta snapped, holding up the bat in her hand for him to see. Then, she was slamming the door in his bewildered face.

It wasn't until she laid back down in her bed that Nesta realized the interaction she'd just had was been the first since that night to make her feel something other than numbness.

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

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