#looking at these and i am fuming by my ears like a little steam train | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsukishumai · 4 years ago

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sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader word count: 1.8k tags: fluff, slight internal turmoil, accidental confession (kind of) summary; Why should Sakusa care if you make plans with his captain? a/n: for my bby @imarizaki

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’m going to the cafe with Tsukasa-senpai this weekend.”

Sakusa couldn’t stop the words from repeating in his head as he jumped up and hit his serve. He winced at the impact, the force of it being much harder than he had intended. The flick of his wrist sent the ball flying over to the opposite side of the gym, crashing loudly against the metal bars that protected the windows.

Sakusa bent over to place his hands on his knees, and sighed deeply.

You had looked so excited about your upcoming plans, and the image of your beaming smile suddenly flashed in his mind. He supposes he should feel some sort of happiness for you, but at the moment, the only word he could use to describe his emotions would be frustration.

He always thought volleyball managers were useless. His teams always had one, and they hardly ever did anything other than compliment his serves and gave him water.

But perhaps that said more about his previous classmates than it did about the job itself, because ever since he’s been on this team with you, he’s not sure he could have it any other way.

He remembers when he walked into practice, three weeks into your stint as their manager. You’ve gotten into the habit of wearing a mask during practice, the black cloth fitted snugly across your face as you happily bounced over to speak with him.

“I researched different wrist exercises online,” you had said, handing him a stack of paper you had printed, “These seemed to be the ones that had worked out well for others.”

He nodded his head in thanks, not telling you that he already has these exact exercises memorized -- appreciating the effort you had put into helping his game.

He thinks back to when he arrived back from a training camp in a sour mood; feeling angry, frustrated, and insecure at the rate of his growth in comparison to the famous Ushiwaka. He grabbed his issue of monthly volleyball from his locker, flipping it open to the aforementioned ace’s page when his lips burst into an incredibly uncharacteristic smile.

On his rival’s photograph were devil horns drawn on his head, his front tooth blacked out and his eyebrows penned into a unibrow, your writing nearly inscripting “Ushiwaka Stinks! Sakusa Rocks!”

As he walks back to the volleyball cart, his mind wanders to when you let him borrow your manager notebook, and as he flipped the pages filled to the brim with your scribbles, he realizes that you were taking notes on much more than just Itachiyama players — your attention to detail had left him in a state of awe. Though, now he’s figuring out that you seem to do that just by existing.

It dawns on him that he seeks your attention past your daily scheduled practices. His routine has changed, and instead of eating his lunch in empty classrooms, he walks out to the courtyard of his school, passed the crowds of people and to a bench situated under a tree, so he can find you saving a spot for him next to you.

Every time he hears his phone buzz, he wishes it was you. Every time he wins a game, he looks to see if you’re watching him. His so-called useless manager.

He feels more uneasy as he wonders why he’s even thinking about such things in the first place. He turns and grabs another ball before taking his position behind the end line.

If you wanted to go to a cafe with tsukasa-senpai, then you had every right to do it. Who was he to be upset about it? Wait, was he upset? The sinking feeling in his gut and the irritation swelling in his chest tells him that he is.

But why? It’s not like it was a date. Or was it? But you just said you were going to the cafe. You never told him it was a date.

So what if it was?

Sakusa throws the ball into the air, and smacks his palm against the blue and yellow leather. The stinging in his palm matched the velocity of which it flew across the room yet again, and he curses at his lack of control.

“You’re still here?”

He snaps his head to the doorway, the echo of your voice mingling with the bouncing of the volleyball reverberating on the walls.

“I thought you went home,” he said, walking to his bag placed on the bench, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“Something told me to come check on you before I left,” you said, walking into the gym.

“Well, you should get going,” he said, in a much sharper tone than he had intended, “It’s getting dark.”

He ignored the way you frowned as he grabbed yet another volleyball, and repeating the same movements he has done for the past half hour since practice ended. He could feel the way your eyes burned into his back as he landed gracefully on his feet, clicking his tongue when his ball not-so-gracefully catches into the net.

“What’s up with you,” you quip, crossing your arms and popping your hip, “First, you ignore me all day, now you won’t even walk home with me?”

Your question only serves to confuse him even further. Is not walking home together now considered an odd thing? Since when did that happen? Had he really been so lost in your presence that he didn’t notice? He hadn’t realized things had gotten this far -- to him, time with you never felt like it was enough. And right now, he’s not sure if he likes that. Not when the end result is this.

He didn’t reply, choosing instead to walk over to the other side of the court, and collecting the balls that had gone astray.

But he should have known you wouldn’t have let things go, and he should have expected your footsteps marching behind him.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you say sternly, and it irritates him even further.

What, do you think that just because you say his full name, he’s going to bend to your will? Is that the kind of hold you think you have on him? The audacity of your familiarity was bothersome and aggravating.

Because it worked.

“You’re going to the cafe with Tsukasa-senpai tomorrow.” he says quickly, turning around to face you. You nearly collided with his chest, stopping abruptly in place. You blinked your eyes at Sakusa dumbly, trying to comprehend what he’s saying.

“Yes… and?”

“Is it a date?” he cuts to the chase, no longer wishing to prolong the agony he’s been in all day.

You looked at him in surprise, jaw hanging slightly and dropping your arms to your side. You quickly regain your composure, straightening your back before giving him a hard look.

“What, am I not allowed to go on dates?”

“I never said that,” Sakusa fumed, wondering if you were trying to dodge his question.

“Then why do you —“

“Can you just answer the question?”

You huffed a little at Sakusa’s interruption, and shot him a half hearted glare. Sakusa stood his ground, looking dead into your eyes.

“It’s not a date,” you finally respond, and Sakusa let’s go of a tension in his shoulders that he had no idea he was carrying.

“Good,” he said, turning around to continue his previous task of collecting his equipement.

“Why is that good?”

Sakusa shrugged, balancing four volleyballs in his arms as he made his way back to the cart. “You shouldn’t be going on dates with guys like Tsukasa-senpai.”

At this, you scoffed in disbelief. “Excuse me? And pray tell, o wise Sakusa-san, just what exactly kind of guy should I go on dates with?”

“Me,” he said before he could stop himself. He stopped all his movements for a moment, time suddenly freezing as he comprehends what just slipped from his lips. A feeling of dread soon began to slowly creep up from his gut, spreading across his body until it reached up and grabbed hold of his heart.

He pretends he never said a thing, depositing the volleyballs back into their rightful place before heading over to collapse the net. In his peripherals, he could see your shocked expression, eyes following his every move as he starts to lower the net. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead like bullets, but he continues on.

“So...what you’re saying is,” You finally broke the silence, walking over to the other side of the court to help Sakusa with his task. “You want me to go on a date with you.”

“I never said that,” he replied, quickly gathering the material that had bunched up on the floor. He felt awkward doing this errand in front of you, something you must have picked up on, because you finished the job for him.

Still the ever dutiful manager.

“No, I’m pretty sure you just did,” you say, grabbing onto the folded up net before walking over to place it into the storage room, not giving him a chance to reply.

Sakusa uses the ten seconds you were gone to slap himself in the face.

He solemnly walks over to gather his things, the silence growing louder and louder by the second as you choose to continue closing the gym instead of saying anything further. He takes his time switching out of his gym shoes, and slowly looped each side of his face mask on his ear.

He was zipping up his jacket when you stood in front of him.

Goosebumps raise in his flesh when you glare at him, tapping your foot on the wooden floors.

“Well?” You ask.

Sakusa tilts his head. “Well what?”

“Are you going to ask me out on a date?”

Sakusa is thankful for the fabric covering his face, though surely redness spread across his entire visage.

He was sure steam was wafting up from his head, the clock in the wall ticking tocking his nerves deeper into his bones.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he wonders if this is a trap. Or perhaps a cruel joke. But regardless, he couldn’t keep you waiting.

“Will you… go on a date with me,” Sakusa spoke slowly, coughing into his hand before continuing, “This weekend?”

You smiled at him, brighter than he’s ever seen before. He feels as if the skies have opened up, and the sun herself graced him with his own personal ray of warmth.

“Let’s go home, Omi,” you beckon him out of the gym before turning off the lights, “I got a big date to get ready for.”

You don’t see his smile, but you se the way his joy crinkled at the corner of his eyes.

“Preparing already?”

You laugh. “I’ve only been waiting for this moment my entire life.”

He hadn’t realized things had gotten this far — though, he realizes he doesn’t mind if the end result was this.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

6:39 PM [From: Captain Tsukasa] :

so? did it work?

6:42 PM (To: Captain Tsukasa) :

senpai… ur kinda scary

6:45 PM [From: Captain Tsukasa] :

I know my little kohai better than u think 😌

554 notes · View notes

asciendo · 4 years ago

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In too Deep

Your friends with benefits with Zuko was the best distraction from the upcoming battle with Ozai and Azula.

But what happens when you slowly begin to catch feelings for Zuko but Sokka sets him up on a date?

It’s been six months since you and Zuko started your little fling. Both of you were the newest members of Team Avatar, Zuko being the redeeming Fire Prince and you being the daughter of a banished Fire Nation general who Zuko and Sokka rescued from the Boling Rock along with Sukki and Sokka’s dad. You’ve known Zuko since you were children but never interacted that much.

Both of you got on each other’s nerves at the start, both being stubborn on how to teach Aang how to fire bend. You knew deep down Zuko was meant to be Aang’s fire bending teacher but that didn’t mean your suggestions didn’t matter.

“I told you, you should teach him to learn how to flow with the energy, not just shoot fire out!” You rolled your eyes as Zuko huffed with a confused Aang stuck in a bending stance behind him.

“He has to learn how to hit his target, am I right?” Zuko marched towards you as you both continued to argue.

“Uhm, I feel like you both have good points, ha ha ha” Aang was always in the middle of your arguments and tried to defuse them, but he knew trying to control two hot heads was almost as difficult as defeating Fire Lord Ozai.

Your argument continued as Aang fell asleep, tired of waiting for his lessons to resume as you and Zuko were almost at each other’s throats, which resulted in Zuko shooting a fire ball on the tree where Sokka was sleeping. “HEY!”

“See! Look what you made me do!”

“What I made you do?! You threw that fireball all on your own!”

“If you hadn’t interrupted my training with Aang, we would be done by now!”

“If you just listened to someone else’s suggestions, Aang would be a better fire bender!” You and Zuko were literally in each other’s faces now, the only thing missing was smoke coming out of your ears as both of you were fuming at one another.

“If you weren’t such a know it all, I would never have gotten angry!”

“Well, you should learn to control your temper!” At your last outburst, both of you stormed off on your own.

“Am I ever gonna learn fire bending?” Aang sighed as he laid on the ground in defeat.

It seemed almost impossible for you two to start your fling, but one night you were practicing your bending on your own, then you suddenly heard footsteps behind you. Zuko.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes as Zuko approached you. “You have to let me teach Aang on my terms. I’m his teacher, not you.”

“I’m not trying to be his teacher, you’re just not teaching him everything.” you hated how he made you feel small and less capable, you knew you were a strong bender, almost beating Azula in a match once, and Zuko made you feel like your abilities weren’t good enough.

“I don’t need your help.” Zuko growled as he stepped closer to you. “What? Your ego can’t take a few suggestions, Prince Zuko?” His eyes narrowed at his title and he stepped closer to you till your back was against a tree. “Don’t call me that.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Why? What are you gonna do?” You teased and Zuko’s face turned into a scowl. Suddenly he was closer to you and your faces were almost touching. His exppression turned from anger to softness and you chucked nervously at how silent he became.

, “Zu—“ before you could finish Zuko’s lips were on yours.

You shot back in shock as you couldn’t believe what was happening. Your relationship with Zuko was more of a complicated one, filled with banter yet, deep understanding with your somewhat common past. Of course you found him attractive, with his shagy black hair, toned body and gold, piercing eyes, but you never thought anything like this would happen between the two of you. “Y/N..I-I’m so—“ this time, before he could finish, you crashed your lips on his. You didn’t know what it was but it just felt right, being with him in this way. His lips were chapped but still soft, although as the kiss went deeper you could feel the intensity in the way he grabbed your back and how you tangled your fingers in his hair.

That started your secret “fling” as you called it. Both of you didn’t want the others to know as they were just getting used to the idea of having two fire benders on Team Avatar. They didn’t suspect a thing as your bickering didn’t stop, but at night Zuko would secretly slip in your tent and you two would spend the night together. This happened every night ever since.

You noticed Zuko change a little bit towards you. He took your suggestions when he was teaching Aang seriously and on missions he’d always make sure he was near you.

There were moments when the both of you would sneak off while the gang was distracted, it was easy since you mostly camped out in the open.

You and Zuko would find an empty cave or under a tree far away and you’d get lost in each other.

Those nights when he’d have nightmares of his father, you’d be the one to comfort him. The same with you when you’d dream about your father, who you haven’t seen since you left the Fire Nation. It scared you how vulnerable the both of you were with one another.

One day, when you were bickering, Zuko went too far and made a snarky comment about your father. You looked at him with not just anger, but with fear, you were letting him in. You backed away and left the camp for a bit. He didn’t say anything that horrible, you were mean to him too. You questioned him about betraying Iroh and he replied by calling you out for not fighting hard enough to stay with your family.

It was true, you could have been in hiding with them, but you wanted to do something more for the world. You weren’t hurt by his words, but terrified how it was so easy for you to hurt each other, your fling was supposed to be something fun and to forget about the stress of trying to save the world.

You were in your tent, trying to sleep but failing. The sound of someone crawling into your tent startled you, but you already knew it was him.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t move, you pressed your eyes shut and tried to pretend as if you didn’t hear him.

“I know you’re not asleep, Y/N.” He lowered down and was sitting next to you, “I said I was sorry alright?” his voice was low but husky and you could her traces of desperation.

“No.”

“What do you want me to say, I’ll say it!”

“Shhh! Are you crazy!” You sat up and attempted to cover his mouth but he dodged your hand. “I’m sorry, okay? I was a jerk, I didn’t mean it.” he looked into your eyes and you knew he was genuine. You weren’t being fair to him, you’re not hurt by his words but scared about what you were starting to feel for him. “You just...you just rile me up so much and my temper...you know how I get and I say things I don’t mean...I shouldn’t be that way towards you, I’ll tell Aang you can teach himsometimes..” you stared at him with such confusion, he was rambling. He only rambles when he’s nervous, and he was nervous with you.

“Are you gonna stop talking or are you going to get in here?” you chuckled and motioned to the space next to you. Zuko sighed then squeezed in next to you in the sleeping bag. “I’m sorry, too.”

Zuko sighed then looked down at you. You faced up towards him expecting to feel his lips on yours, but instead, you felt his lips on your temple. That night was the first time both of you just slept, entangled in one another, and in your heart you knew you were doomed.

6 months later...

“I saw you, you know...” Katara winked at you as you both were gathering water at the nearby lake. “What?”

“I saw you.” She followed you as you continued up the stream. “I see you too?”

“No...I saw you...and Zuko.” You stopped in your tracks. “Yeah, we travel together, Katara. We see everyone every day!” laughing awkwardly you began to gather more water.

“Uh-huh.” You could hear the eye roll in her voice as she walked in front of you with her hands on her hips.

“What exactly did you see?” sighing and giving up, you knew it was useless to lie. You were caught.

“Not much, thank god but...try picking a cave not so near the apple trees next time?” Katara chuckled.

You knew exactly what she was talking about. Zuko had a hard training day with Aang and he needed to blow off some steam, which was what you were there for.

It was your turn to feed Apa so you were gathering fruits for him until you felt strong arms around you.

“Zuko, bad timing, I need to feed Appa.” You smiled, but his grip tightened. “I need you, now.” He grumbled, but you weren’t budging.

“Y/N, please.” His breath was hot on your skin and your body tingled, but you liked to tease him so you broke off from his grip and walked away. You turned towards him and you could see the desire in his eyes, the desire for you. “If I feel like it.” you said as you lifted a tiny bit of your top, revealing your toned abdomen.

Zuko growled and walked towards you and pushed you up against a tree. “I need you.” He whispered and you smirked. “Then show me.” You stared at him with longing.

Zuko chuckled then lifted you up, then you straddled him. He spotted a cave near the tree you were picking apples from and carried you towards there. He placed you on one of the rock formations and you pulled him closer with your legs.

“Show me how much you need me.”

He smirked then crashed his lips on yours. Then the two of you were lost in each other once more.

You ended up telling Katara everything, she said was surprised but also not so much. “So you had a feeling?”

“A little, not really? I mean, you guys are always at each other’s throats but he has been a little bit more... I don’t know concerned about you?” She explained how she noticed that he let you give your input on Aang’s training more, and how when they have a new mission, he made sure he’d be paired with you and she even told you how he talked to Aang about how you shouldn’t be anywhere near the line of fire when the war starts. The time when you and Toph went on a mission to figure out where Boomie was, Katara told you Zuko was pacing back and forth and cursing at how he didn’t go with you, and how it should have been basically anyone but you that went on that mission. “I never knew why, but now everything makes sense.”

You sat there for a minute then opened up to Katara about how scared you were about your growing feelings. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, seeing how he’s acting, he probably feels the same.”

The two of you made your way back to camp and found Zuko and Sokka laughing with each other. “What’s so funny?” Katara asked.

‘Zuko just scored a date!” Your heart dropped, but you tried to keep your exterior composure calm. “ What date?” Katara asked nervously as she just heard your story and encouraged you.

“We were in town and the girl at the hat store kept following Zuko, like NON-STOP! He didn’t believe she was into him but it was SO obvious! So I forced him to ask her out and he did!” Sokka punched Zuko on the arm playfully and Zuko laughed. “You should thank me, maybe having a girlfriend will make hot head over here less moody.” Sokka plopped down on the mat next to Toph and all you could think about was torching Sokka to no end. “So, when is this date?” Toph asked boredly next to Sokka. “Tonight?” Zuko laughed, “Well you better get ready lover boy.”

“I’m gonna give some water to Apa.” You announced and Katara followed you. “I’m SO sorry, I never would have encouraged you if—“

“Katara, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know, and besides...maybe this is a sign I should call the whole thing off?” you sighed and Katara nodded slowly.

“Oh sorry...am I interrupting?” behind you was a looming Zuko, grinning sheepishly as Katara stared daggers at him. “No, I was just leaving.” Katara huffed and left you two alone. “What’s her problem...”

You continued to separate the water for Apa as you heard him approaching you. “So...I’m seeing you tonight, right?” you stopped, tonight? Wasn’t his date tonight? Your heart suddenly felt lighter as you thought he cancelled with hat store girl.

“Isn’t your date tonight?”

“I mean...after?” your heart dropped. He was still going through with it. You felt your face turn red with anger, what were you to him? An object he can go to whenever he has his needs?! A simple plaything? It started off as that but you thought you somewhat meant more to him.

“What’s wrong with you?!” You stared at him with a hurt expression, his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”

You grunted and he shrugged in confusion.

“Zuko...we have to talk.”

“Uhm...okay, but I kind of have to get ready—“

“We should stop.” Zuko tilted his head as if questioning what you just said, but you knew deep down he understood what you were saying. “Stop what?”

“This! Whatever we’re doing!”

“Why? Is it because if this date? I just won’t go—“

“No, it was fun while it lasted but we’re just postponing the inevitable...you should go.” you turned away to continue with what you were doing. “Postponing the inevitable? What do you even mean by that?”

“We’re just holding each other back. We know this isn’t going anywhere and we’re just delaying it. Go, have fun. It’s time.”

“You wanted this too, you know! You said it was all fun and just a distraction! No commitments, no promises, nothing! You would remind me every night—“

“Exactly! We had our fun and now it’s over!” you turned towards him and his face was full of anger. “I can go on a date, we can do whatever we want! That was our agreement!”

“It was so why don’t you just go!” you tried to control your voice so no one would hear but it was so hard, you were so angry. “I am! I just told you I was going and you snapped and said you wanted to end it!”

“Because I’m not just some play thing you can get whenever you want! I’m not disposable.” You were inches in front of his face and you could feel the anger radiating from him. “What do you want from me...” he whispered and for a moment, it seemed like he was truly asking you what you wanted him to do, and for a second, you knew he’d do it if you asked. “Nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable!” Zuko, raised his arms in exasperation. “Me?! You’re the one going on a date.”

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t.” You did. You did care, too much. This all started out for fun, but, you were in too deep with Zuko, and you couldn’t let yourself fall for him. “Then why are you ending it?! I don’t understand.”

“I just told you! I’m not just something you can just take when you feel like it!”

“Then tell me what you want!” He was up in your face again, you didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted Zuko, but you weren’t allowing yourself to want him. “I want this to end, and I want you to go on your date.” You said softly, and you saw a glimmer of pain in his eyes. “You want to end this so bad? Fine, it’s DONE. You just lost me.” He said with gritted teeth and began to walk away.

“No Zuko, I didn’t...because you can’t lose something you never had.” He turned around and stared at you with wide eyes that turned to sorrow. His expression quickly turned to anger that you thought you imagined seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m leaving.”

“Go!” and he did. That was it. Your “relationship” with Zuko was over, and he was off with some other girl.

The next day you were on your way to Ember Island on Appa. Zuko had a hood on as people might recognize him when they arrived. Sokka kept asking Zuko how his date went but he would just shrug. “Well sorry for trying to get you some action!” Sokka rolled his eyes and Katara hit him, “Ow! What was that for!”

When you got to Ember Island, the whole gang hit the beach. Sokka and Suki were running around, Aang was making sand castles, you and Katara were in the ocean and Zuko was left sulking on the balcony in his ancestral home.

“I used to come here with his family, you know.” You told Katara as you played in the water. “You grew up together?”

“Not really, my father was a high ranking general so we’d be in the same vicinity, but no contact whatsoever.”

“I think you should talk to him...”

“Nah, I think it’s for the best, better to cut it off while it was still early.” It hurt, being around him, knowing your whole relationship was over. Even if it was nothing from the start, you started to get your hopes up and, it came crashing down.

“I don’t know...you both seem miserable now that you guys broke up—“

“We were never together.”

“Come on, Y/N! You both obviously like each other, you just don’t COMMUNICATE!” Katara rolled her eyes which made you laugh. “I think his date or whatever was a sign...it was getting too complicated, it’ll be for the best.” Before Katara could react, you both heard Sokka’s voice.

“Hey! Some dudes invited us to a party, let’s go!” Sokka yelled and the gang agreed to go, they needed a little fun before having to deal with the larger issue at hand, defeating the Fire Lord.

They were on the way to the house on foot with Aang dancing on the way there, Katara giggling, Sokka and Suki walking hand in hand while you and Zuko walked awkwardly next to each other.

As soon as you got to the house, a guy opened the door and invited you all in. The house was filled with fire nation teenagers and you all dispersed among yourselves. Sokka and Suki were dancing, Aang was showing fire bender girls some tricks, Katara was checking out the house and Zuko was sulking in the corner.

You decided to get some punch then someone tapped you on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m Han.” A tall, tanned and muscular guy was smiling at you. “Hey I’m...” you decided not to use your real name unless someone recognized you. “I’m Hania?” You mentally kicked yourself for choosing a name so close to his. “Hmm, interesting, so close to mine.” He winked and you blushed. He was cute, and from the horrible day you had, you needed some harmless flirting.

From across the room, Zuko stared at you two by the punch bowl. “Hey, lighten up! They are a bunch of hot girls here!...but don’t tell Suki I said that.” Sokka shrugged and nudged Zuko. “Zukoooo” Sokka tried waving a hand in front of Zuko’s face but Zuko kept his eyes on you and Han. “What are you looking at?” he looked where Zuko was gazing. “Oh, Y/N’s found a boyfriend ha ha.” Sokka chuckled and walked away and left Zuko there fuming.

“So, do you come here a lot? I haven’t seen you around Ember Island before.” Han asked you as he poured you a drink. “I used to when I was a kid, haven’t been back since.”

“Oh, why not?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, things change I guess?” you looked around for your friends just to make sure they were still there, then you locked eyes with Zuko. His eyes were intense and you could tell he was angry. But you didn’t care, you were nothing, you both made the decision to stop whatever you were doing with one another and you needed a little fun. “Do you wanna go look at the moon outside?” Han nodded and you both headed out to the balcony.

Zuko’s heart dropped as he saw you two leave.

“You’re an idiot, you know that right.” Katara rolled her eyes as she leaned next to him on the wall. “What?”

“I-D-I-O-T.”

“How am I an idiot?” Zuko shot up from leaning on the wall and Katara laughed. “You are so into her.”

“No I’m not!” Zuko crossed his arms and turned away from Katara. “I didn’t say her name, how do you know who I meant?” Katara kinked her eyebrow and Zuko rolled his eyes.

“You’re maybe the least happy person I know but when you were sneaking off with her, you were more tolerable for the rest of us.”

“Wa-wait what? Sneaking off—“

“Cut it out, I saw you guys.” Katara smirked and Zuko sighed in defeat. “Fine, we were fooling around. But that was it. I am NOT into her!” he started to walk away but he heard Katara giggle. “Then why have you been shooting daggers at the guy she was talking to all night?”

“B-because! He could be a spy of the Fire Nation! Her father was a recognized general you know! He could be targeting her and we’re all doomed! AND what if he’s working for Azula—“

“Uh-uh.”

“Stop looking at me like that! I’m not in love with her all right!” Katara’s face froze at Zuko’s last statement. “Love?!”

“What?”

“Are you in love with her?!” Katara started to smile as Zuko’s face turned bright red. “I said I’m NOT in love with her! Are you deaf?!”

“Zuko, I didn’t say anything about love in the first place...you said the word first.”

“So! I just said it to make a point, got it?” He leaned back on the wall and hung his head low. “Well, do you?” Katara asked him again.

Did he love her? All the times they were fooling around, he stared at her while she was asleep. He remembered feeling a sense of peace knowing she was next to him. He started to even look forward to their conversations in her tent rather than the physical stuff. He thought of how she’d throw her head back laughing whenever he told her about Uncle Iroh’s prankster antics when he was growing up. How her eyes shined in the moonlight when they’d take walks after dark. How when it was dusk and the sun would reach her eyes just the right amount and you could tell they were actually golden brown.

Zuko thought about the nights when she’d knowingly wrap her arms around his waist when he was having a nightmare about the Agni-Kai with his father. How her eyes lit up whenever she talked about her family. He thought about how he always wanted to protect her, if they had missions he wouldn’t be able to concentrate if she wasn’t near him, or how he couldn’t keep still when she was out on a mission with Toph or Katara, anxiously waiting for her to come back...to him.

“Shit” was all he said and slumped to the floor and buried his face in hands. “I thought so.” Katara smirked then sat next him. “What did I do? Agh! Why am I so bad at this stuff?” he grumbled and Katara just laughed. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“No! She’s off with that bonehead over there! It’s too late, maybe it’s for the best.”

“Ugh! You two are exactly the same!” She rolled her eyes and Zuko shot his head up. “What do you mean we’re exactly the same?”

“You both don’t simply TALK to each other! ‘Maybe it’s for the best’ my ass!”

“Huh?” Zuko looked at Katara with such confusion that Katara scoffed at him.

“You both said the same thing!”

“About what?” Zuko had no idea what she was talking about. “When you went on that date! She said “Maybe it’s for the best” that you guys break up.”

“She cared about that?” Katara stared at Zuko with astonishment; she didn’t think Zuko was this clueless.

“Zuko,,, I know you’re not stupid, but how do you think she felt when she found out you were going on a date?!”

“I didn’t think she cared...”

“Well she did.” Katara threw her hands up in defeat. How could boys be so stupid, she thought.

“Oh...” Zuko looked down and started remembering their conversation. He noticed the hurt in her voice when she accused him of treating her like an object he can just take whenever he wanted. He felt a pit in his stomach, he didn’t mean it to come off that way. “I-I didn’t even want to go it was Sokka!” Zuko tried to defend himself but Katara gave him a knowing look and he sighed.

“Fine..I was...starting to have...feelings for her...every night—“

“Aah! I don’t wanna hear what you guys do!” Katara began to cover her ears. “Calm down.” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Every night...she’d always talk about how what we were doing was just a distraction...how this would eventually end...how we shouldn’t commit to one another...I mean we were sneaking around after all.” Zuko looked at Katara for her input but she motioned for him to continue.

“I agreed to it at first, obviously. But over time...I-I uhm...” Katara could see how hard it was for Zuko to express his feelings. Which made her feel bad about how much he holds in especially with how hard his past was. “You fell for her.” Zuko nodded.

“I went on that date because I was...scared. I was feeling too much for her and I knew she didn’t see it going anywhere, I wanted to prove to myself it was nothing. That my feelings for her weren’t real and I could just stop whenever I wanted. But when I went on that date...no matter how much the girl threw herself at me, I knew I could have had anything I wanted with her.” Katara rolled her eyes at that statement.

“I just...couldn’t. The whole time I was thinking about Y/N and what she said to me, how it was over and why it was over, I knew I fucked up the second I asked her out.” Zuko finished. “When did you fall for her?”

It was five months into your fling. You and Zuko were tangled up in each other in her tent. You were just talking about their old lives in the Fire Nation and if they’d even be like this with each other if they both have never left. He laughed at how he would still be trying to prove his honor to Ozai and how you would probably be part of Azula’s crew with Mai and Ty Lee. Both were slowly drifting to sleep until you popped your head up and looked at him. “Zuko?”

“Hmm.”

“Your mother would be proud of you...you know, with the choices you made.” You went back to sleep but had no idea Zuko lay awake all night thinking about you said.

“AW! That’s so cute!” Katara exclaimed, “Alright, alright!” Zuko rolled his eyes. “So, what do I do?”

“You have to figure that out for yourself, lover boy.” Zuko winced at that name as he watched Katara walk away.

The moon was beautiful that night. You and Han talked about your lives with you lying about some aspects of course, but it was nice to talk to someone who had no idea who you were and was genuinely interested in you.

“I’m really happy you came tonight, you should come to Ember Island more often.”

“I’m happy I came too.” You smiled. Han was looking down at you and he started to lean in closer. You knew he was going in for a kiss but you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Your huge fight with Zuko was just the day before and at the moment, you couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else. But before you could decide on what to do, you saw a fist fly to Han’s face and he fell to the floor. Zuko.

“ZUKO!” You shouted but Zuko ignored you. Han stood up and glared at him. “What the fuck man!”

“Stay away from her.” Zuko warned but Han didn’t back down, he threw a punch at Zuko but he ducked. Han grabbed on to Zuko’s shoulders then tossed him inside the party, which caused everyone to stare.

“Stop it!” You yelled as you followed them inside. Zuko got up then speared Han unto the table. He was about to hit him once more but you stood in between him and Han.

“Y/N move.” Zuko said through gritted teeth, but you stood your ground. “No.”

“H-hey, what’s going on?” Aang asked nervously as the rest of the gang stood behind him in shock. The other party goers didn’t know what to do as well. You looked around and noticed everyone staring at you. Zuko was still glaring at Han as he struggled to get up. “What’s wrong with you?” you stormed out the front door with every intention to head back. “Y/N, wait!” Zuko ran after you.

“What’s going on?” Toph asked the rest of the gang. “Beats me...”Aang took a bite from the apple he was eating. “No idea but, let’s go see!” Sokka began to follow you guys but Suki pulled him back. “HEY!”

You were trying to get home as fast as you could. This whole night was a disaster and you just wanted to be left alone. “Y/N!” a familiar voice called but you continued walking. “Hey!”

“Y/N will you please—“

“WHAT!” you shot around at him and he froze in his steps. “I just need to talk—“

“NO! what is the matter with you?! Starting a fight?! Really?!”

“W-well if you weren’t trying to make me jealous nothing wouldn’t have happened!” Zuko shouted as he walked closer to you. “Make you jealous? I wasn’t trying to make you jealous!”

“Then what were you doing with that bonehead?!”

“I was having a conversation. Not everything is about you, Prince Zuko.” You rolled your eyes then continued on your way. “But you were about to kiss him. I saw YOU!” he shouted and ran to catch up with your pace.

“Stop following me, Zuko.”

“No.”

You bended fire at his feet and he jumped. “Hey!” you continued walking but he was right behind you. “Zuko, leave me ALONE!”

“No.” you stopped and turned to him then he stopped as well.

“You had no right to hit him!”

“I don’t care.” You continued on your way home but he continued to follow you. “You can’t just hit people for no reason!”

“I had a reason.”

“And what was that?!” you rolled your eyes but refused to face him.

“You were about to kiss him.”

“So what if I was?!” you raised your hands in defeat, if you kissed him or not it shouldn’t even matter. He stayed silent but continued to watch you with those piercing eyes of his. “Whether I kissed him or not, it has nothing to do with you, Zuko.”

You tried to leave again but heard a loud noise. “AGH!” Zuko shot fire at a nearby tree, which caused you to stop.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ZUKO!” You were in his face and he was breathing heavily with his eyes locked on yours. He paused then grabbed your face then crashed his lips onto yours. You gave in a little but then quickly pulled away.

“No, you can’t do that to me.” You backed away then ran back to house.

As soon as you arrived you ran to your shared room with Toph and Katara then slammed the door. You forgot to lock it but as you were about to, Zuko was standing at the doorway.

“Zuko, will you please leave me alone!”

“NO!”

“What do you want from me, Zuko?!” You yelled at him. You felt so many emotions in the last two days from anger, sadness, jealousy, defeat...and all because of him.

“You. I want you.” He said, and for the first time he wasn’t yelling and his voice was calm.

Before you could speak, Zuko continued.

“Look, I-I know it doesn’t seem like...I care...about anything really...but...” he paused and you stared at him. “I do care about some things..I-mean—“

“Zuko, you don’t have to—“

“No. You need to hear this.” His voice was suddenly serious and he was staring at you with so much intensity you couldn’t speak.

“I know we both started this thing as a distraction from what’s going on. Escaping from our pasts in the Fire Nation and what might come next with this war. But...along the way...I started...to feel things towards you that I know I shouldn’t and I thought I could control it while we were together I mean...not together like that but...yeah.” he started blushing and wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was nervous and knew it. You suddenly felt your heart warm up to him but you composed yourself once more.

“I thought I could control it, but the more time we spent together, it just got harder. Then that stupid date happened...I never should have asked her out. I know it’s not an excuse but...I just got scared. I mean, hearing you talk about how it’s never gonna work out, how this is just temporary really freaked me out, so I went out with her to try to prove myself that my feelings for you were nothing but...the whole time, I just thought about you...and I instantly regretted it. So I’m sorry for asking her out...I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t do anything wrong with that we aren’t—“

“I’m sorry for acting like I could just take you whenever I wanted. I’m sorry for disrespecting you.” He finished and you knew he meant it with the way he looked at you.”

“Zuko...it’s alright.” He sighed in relief and started to smile. “I think these things had to happen to show us that our time was up. We were going too far with each other and we were just going to get hurt, I mean look at us now, look what happened tonight. We’re not good for each other, and the team might suffer for it later on.” His face dropped when you finished. You could tell he expected another answer from you.

“How can you say that?”

“Zuko, all we do is fight! We argue about everything, we hurt each other and we’re hurting the team with our bickering and disagreements! What kept us going was the physical stuff...and if we don’t have that—“

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it was all physical for you.” He was staring deep into your eyes and you paused. Why couldn’t you just say it? A few words and this could all be over. No more fights, no more drama, nothing. You and Zuko would be nothing.

“Z-Zuko I—“

“You can’t say it because you don’t mean it.” he stated and you stepped back from him. “It’s more complicated than that, you know it!” You turned away from him. “How is it complicated? Yes we do fight, so what? That’s not an enough reason for me.”

“It is for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter!” You tried to leave the room.

“NO! Tell me what’s so complicated!” Zuko was holding your arm so you couldn’t leave. You bit your lip trying to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. “We don’t know what’s going to happen after this war. If I...if you...if something happens, and you know there’s a possibility that one of us...or both of us...” you stopped, you’ve lost your family already, you had no idea where they were, they could be dead, you couldn’t lose someone close to you again. Zuko loosened his grip on your arm, understanding what you were saying. “I’ve lost my family—“

“You don’t know what.”

“I do...and if I lose another person close to me again...”

“I won’t let that happen.” He whispered and you turned to face him. “Zuko, it’s just...I already felt losing you once over this whole thing...I’m not going to do that again and not just because of what the future holds but...how are we sure of any decisions we’re making now? I mean look at us!” Zuko stepped back and just watched you.

“You left your life in the Fire Nation twice and made two different decisions after each time. I didn’t want to leave when my father was banished, then ended up following him to only leave a week later because I felt like I could do more than hide. We’re erratic and unsure of everything, we can hardly make decisions on our own, what more commit? And the fact that there wasn’t even an “us” to begin with?” you sighed but Zuko seemed unbothered by your statement.

“Y/N...I may be unsure about a lot of things. I always think about how...if I’m making the right decisions not only for me but for the Fire Nation. I’m unsure about if this is the path Uncle Iroh wanted for me, if I’m teaching Aang the right skills. I’m unsure about the future because if my father wins, would this all be for nothing. I’m unsure about a lot of things Y/N, but the one thing I’m sure about in this whole fucked up situation is that I love you.” Your eyes widened in shock and his did too. You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, both of you unable to move.

“You don’t need to say it back, I’ve told you everything. I just had to let you know.” He whispered and with that he was gone.

You stood there motionless in the room. Zuko just said he loved you. The same Zuko that drove you crazy, that made snarky comments about your bending, that tested you till you’ve reached your limits. But it was the same Zuko that would hold you at night when you had nightmares, who reassured you whenever you worried about your family’s safety, Who would make sure you were safe whenever you were on a mission, who would secretly hold your hand when you were flying on on Appa because only he knew that heights made you nervous, the same Zuko who just told you he loved you, and you let him walk away.

You broke out of your trance then rushed to his room. You barged in but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, you saw a figure on the terrace looking out at the ocean. You walked outside and saw Zuko facing out with his arms spread across the balcony. His muscles looked tense and his head hung low. Walking towards him, you could feel your heart beat outside of your chest. You’ve been around Zuko a hundred times but this felt different.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist has you felt his body jump at your touch then relax. Leaning your chin on his shoulder and pressing your face against his, “I love you, Zuko.” You whispered and you could feel the smile on his face. Zuko turned around to face you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He looked down at you and you knew he was going to kiss you.

“Wait, I’m not Han, just making sure—“

“Zuko!” you slapped his arm then he laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes and it felt like old times again.

“I love you, and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Zuko whispered and then he finally kissed you.

290 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here.

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely.

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out.

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing.

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered.

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall.

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact.

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender.

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you.

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar.

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours.

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You:

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly.

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid.

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm.

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place.

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

#kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima bnha #bakugou bnha

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fandomlurker · 4 years ago

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A Ponderous Rewatch: Pavlov’s Mice and Cameo

So thanks to Tumblr nerfing my ability to make an admittedly absurdly long post combining the previous episode rewatch with this one, I had to do this entry in two parts.

But at least now we’re in for the real treat: The first episode in airing order that’s animated by TMS Entertainment. And hey, even the Animaniacs show itself seems to acknowledge that this is special, because theme song rhyme is…

We're Animanie! Totally insane-y!~

Pinky and the Brainy!~

…which hasn’t been done since their debut. So this is gonna be fun.

Might as well get this out of the way, then, since this episode obviously involves Ivan Pavlov. I think most people who know of Pavlov through cultural osmosis pretty much know him as just “that one scientist who got dogs to respond to the sound of bells as if they were being offered food”. This is what happened, but it’s only part of the story. In reality, Ivan Pavlov was doing research on the physiology of digestion in dogs and he noticed one day that the dogs he was studying started to drool in the mere presence of the lab technician who regularly fed them even if the technician didn’t have food with them. Pavlov developed a way to redirect the dogs’ digestive juices outside of the body so that they could be measured, and then he ran some conditioning experiments to see if he could get them to salivate in response to external stimuli that had nothing to do with food, like ringing a bell.

The year in the title card, 1904, was the year Ivan Pavlov was awarded the Nobel Prize for the previously mentioned experiments, which he published the results of in “The Work of the Digestive Glands” in 1897. Basically, by 1904 he was done with his work with dogs and he moved on to experimenting with mice…at least according to this article in National Geographic by Virgina Hughes.

With that, let’s begin the episode proper.

“At the dawn of the 20th century, Russian scientist, Ivan Pavlov, trained animals through his technique of conditioned reflex” says the narrator as we zoom in on a laboratory with Pavlov and our lovable mouse duo.

“Time to earn your dinner, my little mousey friends!”

It’s interesting how Pinky is the one that flinches uncomfortably at the loud sound of the gong while Brain simply snaps into his conditioned response. And that response? Uhhh…

“I’m a little teapot, short and stout.~”

“This is my handle, this is my spout.~”

(Is he…you know…?)

“When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!~”

“Tip me over and pour me out.~”

Oh no… This is a cute and funny scene and all, but when you know about Brain’s canonical issues with how he hates not being in control of a situation and all the traumas he’s endured (for those of you not in the know, yes, Brain does have a lot of trauma in his backstory that we learn about much later, both in the 90s spin-off and the reboot) regarding both general control and losing family and friends…there’s a bitter tinge to this scene.

He’s so embarrassed and humiliated.

He takes the cheese but he is positively fuming with rage, and I can’t exactly blame him from what I know about him.

This is made all the worse by Pinky’s innocent reaction to Brain’s little song and dance.

“Hahahahaha! Wonderful! Hahaha! EGAD, Brain, I could watch you do that dance all day! Haha, narf!”

For Pinky, this is harmless silliness and he gets to see Brain sing and dance and “have fun”, which is not a usual occurrence. But for Brain? Well...

“You have watched it all day, Pinky. Sixty-one times, to be exact. It’s a conditioned reflex to that infernal gong.”

“I’m powerless to stop it!”

Well, Brain, at the very least it’s not like you were a part of a more inhumane experiment like one regarding, say, learned helplessness or anything. …Oh wait. Whoops. (For those sensitive to animal abuse, I suggest refraining from clicking on the second link, and caution against clicking on the first if even more clinical text descriptions of such would upset you. The third link is spoilers for the reboot.)

All that aside, it seems like it’s Pinky’s turn. He gets the more traditional bell chime for his stimulus.

And the result is him going into an uncontrollable and very enthusiastic Slavic folk dance.

With violent results. I hope you appreciate that last screencap, as the animation goes by so quickly I had a lot of trouble isolating the part where Pinky kicks Brain and he goes flying.

Pinky is all too happy to get a reward of cheese, his favourite food, for doing something that he has no memory of.

“What’cha doin’ over there, Brain?”

“Contemplating your afterlife, Pinky.”

That’s not exactly fair, Brain, you know he has no control over this. To Brain’s credit, though, he doesn’t bop him or anything for kicking him involuntarily.

Pavlov leaves, playfully saying that he hopes the mice dream of cheese tonight, and the mice are immediately down to business.

“At last, he’s gone.”

“Now we can begin our conquest of the world!”

We’re already back to it being “our” conquest of the world, eh?

“Behold my latest creation, Pinky: The Vacuum-o-nator.”

Brain has never been good with naming things, has he? At least, not so far. I wonder if this will continue throughout the franchise?

Pinky is certainly very happy and impressed, though.

“It uses reverse air pressure to vacuum everything toward it.”

You know, I was just about to roast Brain for thinking that making a very odd version of a vacuum cleaner was such a brilliant thing, but then I remembered that this takes place in 1904. The vacuum cleaner as we know it was “invented independently by British engineer Hubert Cecil Booth and American inventor David T. Kenney” in 1901 according to Wikipedia, and portable vacuums were available to the general public starting in 1905.My apologies, Brain, that actually is very impressive.

Although, this all hinges on if the viewer considers episodes that take place in the past and/or at different locations than Acme Labs California to be mere Alternate Universe/What If? stories or Brain and Pinky using some kind of time machine to go to a different place and time for these episodes. (Before you tell me that this is just a cartoon and sicc the Please, Please Get a Life Foundation on me, I do this to have fun and maybe educate myself and the reader along the way. I promise I have a life. Barely.)

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

“Uhh… Yeah, Brain! But where are we gonna find rubber pants our size?”

Pinky, that’s… Listen, folks, don’t make the same mistake I did and google “rubber pants”. It’s not what you think it is. You will be disappointed.

BONK!

Seems like you’re enjoying yourself there, Pinky.

“No, Pinky. We’re going to use the Vacuum-o-nator to steal Russia’s crown jewels!”

Man, the animation for even this one small proclamation by Brain is so, so good. Brain standing authoritatively and holding the pen like a scepter or spear, the grand sweep of his arm as he says “no”, the serious and slightly menacing expression on his face, a violent and grabby swing of his arm on the word “steal”, and a dramatic point and look up towards the sky when he finishes. TMS does great work, folks.

“Narf! Genius, Brain!”

Look at Brain’s satisfied smile at Pinky’s simple compliment. Remember what I said earlier about Brain going through his explanations to show off to and impress Pinky? At this point I’m absolutely convinced that that’s why Brain turns up the theatrics more than necessary when going through his plans. After all, Pinky is (oddly and rather sadly) the only one in-universe who thinks Brain is a genius and a good person.

…Of course, the effect can sometimes be lessened by subsequent innocent bumbling.

“Turn it off, Pinky.”

He says this so exasperatedly yet so deadpan at the same time, it’s great.

“Oh! Right-o!”

Even Pinky immediately knows that he fucked up.

“Zort! Whew! Wild hairdo, Brain! Heh heh, I like it.”

He even pets Brain’s “hairdo”, aww. And though I personally could take or leave the ‘do, I like the pointed, sharp look this mishap’s given to his ears.

BONK!

“Now I feel cleansed.”

Okay, this one might have been a little too much, Brain.

“But Brain, aren’t the crown jewels always guarded by giant Cossacks?”

Well, Pinky, from what I know Cossacks were usually used extensively in the police force and as border guards during this time, so I guess that’s possible?

Brain picking the lock with the pen is a fun little detail.

“Don’t worry about the guards… For tonight, Pinky, at precisely 1 am, there’s a total lunar eclipse. “

Again, this is probably not a thing the average person could look up quickly and easily in the 90s and the writers most likely didn’t care about accuracy here, but there were no total lunar eclipses in 1904. There were some penumbral lunar eclipses in March and September of that year, though. Just a fun fact for you folks.

“The Earth’s shadow will completely cover the moon, blacking out all of St. Petersburg for a period of 30 seconds.”

Brain…?!? Brain, how did you get the diagram on that piece of paper to animate like that? What kind of Harry Potter-style magic bullshit is this?

I know this is a cartoon and all and I’m not truly upset but this honestly came out of nowhere and made me do a double-take.

“In that brief time, we will sneak past the Czar’s guards under the cover of darkness and steal the crown jewels…for he who controls the jewels controls Mother Russia!”

More dramatics!

“But…I thought your mother’s name was Désirée?”

I love Brain’s pose here. Very grumpy and sassy.

As for Pinky’s comment: We do get to meet Brain’s parents way later in the spin-off, though neither are addressed by any name. I’m taking this joke as canon anyway because it’s funny.

Well, well, well… Looks like we’re shaking things up a bit with an inking instead of a bonk. That’s gonna be a pain to get out of his white fur, though.

“Soon, Pinky, I will rule Russia…so from now on, call me Czar.”

Another sassy hand-on-hip pose.

“Right-o, Brain!”

“—eek! Czar Brain!”

“Come along, Pinky… Conquest awaits!”

Nice to know that despite the inking, Pinky’s still following him anyway. Plus he’s doing it with that fond look on his face again. Hmm…

What follows is a cute and ingenious sequence of Brain launching Pinky and himself through an open window via the spring force of a mousetrap. It goes by very quickly, but I just wanted to highlight a few things I managed to notice while pausing through it. Kudos to the animators again for these little details.

Pinky’s the one that wraps one arm around Brain’s shoulders so that Brain has both hands free to spring the mousetrap properly and so that they’ll be launched together.

Interestingly enough, Pinky’s the cautious one who braces for impact right away while Brain gleefully flies through the air with his arms outstretched.

The “camera” changes perspective and while Brain is still boldly flying forward with confidence, Pinky is still worried but has now opened his eyes as they fly towards the window.

Pinky’s still holding onto Brain and the Vacuum-o-nator as tight as he can. As they get closer to the window, however…

…Pinky seems to realize he’s going to smash into the wall above the window if he doesn’t let go, so he lets go of Brain. Brain doesn’t realize where his trajectory is taking him.

Pinky angles himself downward and through the open window, but it’s too late for Brain.

WHAM! RIP, Brain.

But his pain is not done! It looks like Pinky’s landing was in the soft snow. Meanwhile, Brain slides down onto the window and through the opening, only to bash into the lid of a garbage can, much to Pinky’s concern.

Then Brain falls headfirst into the snow.

And finally, Brain is clonked on the head by the same garbage can lid, which makes a loud gong noise. Someone get this poor mouse some Aspirin.

But since there was a gong noise, you all know what that means!

Cutely, Pinky joins in on the dance in the middle of it.

“Ha! Oh that was fun, Czar Brain! But let’s give it another go, right? Only this time with feeling!”

Man, that side-eye at the beginning from Brain…

Pinky’s body language is great in this episode, too. The gleeful flapping of his arms and feet and the “with feeling” gesture are fantastic examples of his more open and energetic nature coming through.

Oh hey, there’s that one shot of Brain being ticked off used in the spin-off theme song! I can’t exactly blame him for his anger here. He just went through a lot of pain in a short amount of time and was then involuntarily made to humiliate himself. Pinky doesn’t mean to be mean here—he genuinely wants to have some sing and dance fun with Brain—but it’s gotta sting to have the humiliation highlighted.

Pinky still doesn’t deserve a bonking for it, though. But it’s slapstick, so he’s fine.

Heh, “deliveries to rear” indeed.

Oh, are those jingle bells on a sleigh that I see?

Uh oh…

“No, Pinky… Not now!”

It cannot be stopped, Brain. He must dance!

Another quick detail as Brain launches himself at Pinky’s midsection to either topple him over or hold him still to get Pinky to stop.

Alas, Pinky’s dancing is too strong.

OUCH!

The face of regret.

His punishment is swiftly thwarted, though.

“…That was unpleasant.”

They take a different and more uneventful ride on a hay wagon to the palace.

I love the exaggerated perspective going on here.

Peekin’.

“We made it inside, Brain!”

“…’Czar Brain’.”

“Czar Brain.”

He says it so quietly and sweetly, aww.

“Yes, Pinky. There are fleeting moments when I even amaze myself.”

I…don’t know if it’s much of an accomplishment yet, Brain. Settle that ego down a bit.

Oh, that’s some classic Looney Tunes-style sneaking animation there.

Wait, why is the door to the treasure room just open behind them? Czar Nicolas II, what gives?

Speaking of…

Hello, Czar Nicolas II. I hope you’re enjoying your “eclipse party”. You only have another 14 years or so to live it up, after all.

“In just a few minutes, it’ll be totally dark and scary. OooOOoo!~ But don’t anyone touch me, I have cooties!”

I, uhhh. Okay, then.

Same, boys. Same. Best to get down to business.

“Behold the crown jewels of Mother Russia, Pinky. World conquest will soon be ours!”

Again, world conquest is “ours” and not just Brain’s. Also you can just tell Pinky’s thinking “I’m going to wear so much of this jewelry!”

“Now, Brain?”

“Not yet. Wait for the total eclipse.”

Speaking of…

“Complete darkness, Pinky. Start the Vacuum-o-nator…”

“NOW!”

That gonging noise is an interesting choice for a chime. Surely this ornate clock is only an omen of good things for our duo.

Pinky, you’re swooning again. And Brain…

Oh no.

Another clock! Who’d have thought Russian nobility loved clocks so much? This one has a more pleasant bell chime, though.

…Oh NO!

Well, looks like things are going to hell pretty quickly.

Goodbye, boys.

Goodbye, Czar Nicolas II! You might wanna look out for a man named Grigori Rasputin in the future, okay?

Nice hat, Brain.

“Whu--? The eclipse is over? Narf! What happened, Brain?”

BONK!

“Zort! I mean, Czar Brain.”

“We failed again, Pinky… But just wait until tomorrow night!”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brain?”

“What else, Pinky?: Try to take over the world!”

It was a nice try, boys, but honestly I don’t know how you were going to fit all those crown jewels into that tiny improvised vacuum bag, anyway.

One last cute little detail in this episode is our mousey duo jumping up with enthusiastic determination in front of the silhouette of the moon on the last note of the theme reprise. One day, you guys. One day…

Oh! And before I forget, have another short cameo from “Plane Pals”. It’s a tiny one.

Pinky and the Brain steal a sheep off of an airplane. For what purpose? Who knows? But that’s it. I’m kind of wondering if the writers wanted to make a running joke of them making cameos to steal random things for world conquering purposes and just sort of gave up.

Anyway, so ends our recap for this post. It sure was a long one, but what can I say? There were some very cute details that needed to be shared. Have we learned anything new this time? Well, I mean, besides historical trivia.

Brain thinks both he and Pinky are great actors, despite his own near inability to lie and keep up an innocent pretense. Oh, he can be sarcastic, sure, but he can’t seem to manage to stop himself from revealing that he’s out for world domination whenever he has an audience.

For the first time we see Brain’s annoyance and humiliation resulting from him being a lab mouse. Though it’s on the more subtle side at the moment, Brain seemed extra grumpy and violent during that last episode because of the conditioning he’s unwillingly gone through. I’m curious to see if there are any more examples of this before we reach an episode touching on his origin story. Or…one of his origin stories, at least. There’s around four of them last I checked and all but one of them can reasonably fit into the others.

Pinky is truly beginning to show how much he adores Brain, which is nice. Beforehand we knew he was down with his world domination plans for whatever reason and also that he thinks Brain’s plans are great and ingenious. Now, though, we’ve gotten to the point of him literally swooning at Brain and his plans. Something’s definitely brewing there.

Next time: We get some more substantial cameos, join our mouse duo on a Fort Knox heist, and meet a new character that is both pretty important to the “lore” of the show going forward…but also doesn’t appear in person after their introductory episode until the very end of the Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain spin-off run.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Pavlov's Mice #Plane Pals

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

Note

ADFFASFDSFG DO THE SWITCHED LUGGAGE WITH WOLFSTAR

Notes: LEGITLY I DO NOT KNOW!!!! STOP GIVING ME THAT LOOK DAMN IT RJ!!!! Big BIG love goes to @kattlupin and @justtoarguewithyou for the Beta help<3 Please don’t hate me RJ!

~Hour 0

Remus focuses on the chill that’s beginning to frost the window of the quaint, Edinburgh coffee shop that’s tucked into a dark corner of the large block of the tube station, appreciating the glittering blankets of snow coating the ground and the melodic holiday tunes playing from above. The scent of cinnamon wafts through the air and his phone’s pressed between his ear and shoulder while one hand toys with the tassel hanging off the reindeer trinket lining the counter, and the other’s clasping onto his luggage.

“I can’t wait to show you! My mum’s bought Harry the cutest little Saint Nick babygrow, and Mrs. Potter’s sent me her recipe for the samosas James especially likes. And—”

Remus laughs through his nose, pressing the phone closer before accepting the hot chocolate handed over to him by the barista who winks his way before going back to start up the next round of drinks.

“Lils, I’ve bought the ticket, and I’m about to board. No need to continue on trying to convince me. I’ll be in London for Christmas.”

“Oh, Remus, I can’t wait!” Lily crows delightedly, and Remus can just pick up on the sound of a bowl clacking to the ground, inwardly praying that she doesn’t burn down her entire cottage before Remus’s even gotten the chance to see it. “I’ve missed you, it’s positively ridiculous how long we haven’t been able to visit! Criminal, really!”

Remus drags his bottom lip between his teeth, flushing slightly at the dig considering that the absence from his closest friend from childhood was almost entirely his doing. “Well you know, with Fabian’s research and all, we were constantly out of the country, over to the States one week, and then Asia the next.”

This time, it’s effortless catching on the sound of harsh stirring accompanied by Lily’s unimpressed cluck at the sound of Remus’s ex’s name. “Well good riddance. He was never good enough for you Remus, a total self righteous prat.”

“Is that right?” Remus smiles wryly, taking a sip of his coco before wrapping his scarf around his neck once more to brace for the cold. “I thought he was mighty fancy-able considering the degree and being fit and all.”

“Dry as Petunia’s skin in the winter,” Lily sniffs airily, and Remus studiously does not mention the mountain of moisturizers that Lily stored away in an unused closet in the old flat they shared during six form when she thought Remus wasn’t looking. “Now I get to have my fun and set you up with a proper bloke, especially since you’ll be moving back to London after the semester officially closes. Ooo! We can start a double date night! There’s this cooking class they’re holding down the street for couples but I didn’t wanna join because James would only get all obnoxiously cocky when he ultimately does remarkably and I end up burning water.”

Remus laughs, remembering the occasion she’s referring to, which had led them to pressing together their measly savings to buy an electric kettle like good and proper adults, rescuing their pots from getting burnt to a crisp thanks to Lily’s forgetfulness. “Least if you come along with whichever bloke, I’ll know I definitely won’t be the worst one there.”

Remus twists up his mouth, displeased. “Unwarranted slander.”

“Your french toast chipped my pug’s tooth before he spat it out.”

“Maybe Snuffles just has a bad gag reflex.”

“His gag reflex is perfectly adequate,” she sniffs.

“Well I’ve never spat out my own food.”

“Hmm, I bet you get all the boys in the yard whenever you talk about how skillfully you’ve trained your gagging.”

“Stuff it, Evans.”

“Potter now actually, Ta so much.”

“Gone off and married yourself a posh Londoner and now you’re sounding like you’re meant to be on an episode of Downton Abbey, is that right?”

“Innit brilliant?”

“Bloody exhausting is more what I was thinking, love.”

Lily’s answering laugh is light and tinkling and it’s the happiest Remus’s ever heard her all year, and it’s like a punch to the gut when he all at once realizes just how drastically he’s missed her.

“Don’t pout Re, I’ll still be able to tolerate your lowly, Welsh vowels.”

“Sod off.”

“Mean.”

“You started it.”

“Oof.”

“Did you break the eggs the wrong way again?” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he finally retreats into the actual underground and ambles to the queue waiting to scan their tickets.

“You can’t break eggs the wrong way Remus Lupin!” Remus stays silent. “Don’t give me that look!”

“What look?” Remus asks owlishly.

“Don’t think I can’t picture it right now, with the slanted mouth and your left eyebrow raised with pure condescension.”

“I don’t like this picture of my character that you’re painting, Evans.”

“I don’t like your insinuations of my egg cracking skills, Lupin.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I? You did break it?”

“Well yes, that’s the general idea of cracking an egg.”

Remus scoffs. “The wrong way I mean.”

The silence coming from Lily is positively fuming and Remus thinks that if they were in some sorta old-timey Disney cartoon she’d be steaming smoke from her ears right about now. “’S just a singular shell, it’ll melt right in the pan once I pop it into the oven.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you’re trying to poison us. And right when I became single and ready to pull again.”

“Oh speaking of pulling,” Lily squawks, and Remus absolutely despises that tone of voice—flashes of young, drunken escapades bubbling to the forefront of his mind, twinging when he thinks of the flower he’s got tattooed onto his arse to match the crescent moon on Lily’s own.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Oi, you haven’t even let me explain myself, you berk! I just wanna help.”

“You’re an evil, evil Femme Fatale, and you shouldn’t even have this much power over me considering how rudding gay I am.” He screams that last part perhaps a bit too loudly, garnering amused glances from most of his fellow patrons, and a couple curious ones. Including a pair of disarmingly lovely gray eyes. And holy christ above does he hate Lily right now.

“But Remus,” she says in a distinct sulk through the line. “It’s just that James’s brother also recently just got out a relationship with this bird from work, and it wasn’t nearly as long as you and Fabian, but I thought you two would just be so cute together. He totally fits that crush you had on Stubby Boardman all through A levels, and I just thought it’d help you so much with getting over that ginger-haired bastard.“

“You are the only ginger-haired bastard in my life,” he tells her glumly, wincing when the ticket holder smirks at him as she scans him through, mouthing a ‘Good Luck’ with a smirk.

Damn Remus’s very existence.

Keep Reading

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #THE HARRY POTTTER SERIES #HARRY POTTER SERIES #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #NYWB #Spilt INk #I'm such a mess #truly #love you RJ babe #!!!

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

Text

The Drowned girl

No fear

Synopsis: Siggy leaves Kattegat for the first time, setting out on a journey of a lifetime. But of course danger follows as well

Warnings: violence, shit parenting (Bjorn), child abandonment, language, canon divergence

Tags:

@pieces-by-me

I don’t own the gifs.

Siggy stood at the side of the ship, holding onto a rope for stability. The wind ruffled her neatly braided hair and her new cloak. Floki stood proudly at the head of the boat, watching all his ships sail to Kattegat's docks so everyone else can come aboard as well.

Never before did she feel so light; all those times she leaped off high places was nothing compared to this. She felt like soaring in the sky, leaving behind Kattegat and all its shadows.

The people on the docks looked so small from up here, just spots that would soon be left behind. With a grin, she ran past the other sailors and Floki. "Siggy!" Warned Helga while the girl sprinted up the dragon's head and jumped onto the docks, giggling like a madwoman.

The docks were packed with people saying goodbye to their families. She could see Bjorn and his family, as well. How she loathed them all, looking happy and like a proper family. Someone nudged her shoulder.

Floki wiggled his eyebrows at her and jerked his head towards the Ragnarssons and Aslaug. "Say goodbye to Sigurd. We will not wait for you forever." Siggy rolled her eyes at him and skipped over to Sigurd.

The snake-eyed prince grinned at her and waited for her to reach him finally. "Don't die stupidly." He whispered into her ear in the middle of their tight hug. Siggy nodded against his neck and gripped his tunic tighter.

"You won't survive a day without me, Uncle Sigurd." He hit her over the head and glared at the title he hated so much.

"Go. The sight of you disgusts me."

"At least I don't look like a flock of raven's attacked my hair."

Sigurd touched his hair and glared at her remark. His hair was a touchy subject for him. Truth be told, it wouldn't be so touchy if he used a comb once in a while. But Siggy hates that torture device as well, so she won't judge too much.

"Be safe, Little Sig."

"You too, Sig."

She turned on her head and walked back to the boat, shouldering past Bjorn, who watched her with dark eyes. He always observed her, especially when she was happy. It seemed to offend him to some extent. But that was his problem.

Siggy watched the world pass by, the gentle breeze like a lover's touch against her face - adventures first caress. "Off to Rome, we go." Helga chuckled at her side and ruffled her hair affectionately, joining Floki and Bjorn at the brow. Hvitserk threw an apple at her head, snickering when it hit her in the ear.

"And here I thought I could suffer you for longer," Siggy complained and stormed after him, twirling around the mast and people as Bjorn barked at them to calm down. He must be regretting taking them with him.

The blonde run-up to the mast and climbed up using a rope as support. Taking a deep breath, Siggy closer her eyes, and enjoyed the more windy place. She could hear Helga warning her to be careful and Floki giggling as she stood on top of the sail.

Slowly she opened her eyes and grinned at the beautiful sight before her. The clear water with loads of boats on it seemed like the perfect place to be. She was meant to be here all along. Sailing the world and proving to the gods that she deserved to live. "Try to strike me down now..."

For all the love for traveling, Siggy felt, sailing there just took too long. Frankia was just within reach, and she had no desire to see Rollo. Floki talked of him sometimes - the traitor to his kind. What good would the man be? Raiding the towns and murdering those who attacked would be easier than striking a deal.

"Are you going to try and contact uncle Rollo?"

The silence that followed Hvitserk question sent shivers down Siggy's spine. Bjorn made his decision long ago, and no matter how everyone disapproved, he won't change it.

The Frankish boats met them head-on, warning bells tolling in Paris to announce their coming. When they docked, Bjorn chose men to go with him to meet with Rollo. To her great annoyance, Siggy was left behind because she can't "behave," whatever that's supposed to mean.

"If we get attacked, we will need all the fighters we can," Helga whispered to her, trying to brighten up her mood.

"And if they attack the envoys? What then?" Siggy seethed, watching the enemy soldiers lead everyone to the palace.

"Then Floki will fight his way out. You have not seen them fight. They will be alright." The young volva sighed and walked to the boat, and take out her arrows to sharpen them. It was a lie; Siggy had seen Floki fight. And Bjorn too.

Whenever Bjorn came over to visit Floki and Helga, Siggy sneaked off to spend some time alone. But the sun was already setting, and she felt lonely. Sigurd was sick, so he was home with Aslaug and Ivar. Floki was busy with the plans for the boats.

She wanted to train to become a great shieldmaiden. If she was meant to travel the world, as Floki said, she had to become the best fighter out there. Not cook or collect herbs with Helga.

Her destiny was laid out on the water and foreign lands, not in the forests of Kattegat. But at least the knowledge of herbs was useful for something. Making a sacrifice to the gods, for instance.

With a small skinny knife, she cut off bark from an oak and brought it to her little pyre made of twigs and dry grass. She lit the fire using two stones and blew into the flames, hoping the fire would grow.

When the flame was big enough, she stopped blowing and stepped back, looking at her gathered ingredients. "Oak for strength, Edelwise for courage, Sage for wisdom, and Dill to protect me from evil." One by one, she threw the items in.

The fire would bring the offerings to the gods, and they would protect her from now on. They have been cruel to her until now - abandoning her just like her parents, nearly letting her die. All because she was never acknowledged by her father - a bastard in everyone's eyes.

But that would change the moment she became famous; she would be like Ragnar. Then no one could call her a freak, failure, or insult her. They would all cheer for her, praise her and talk stories of her to their children. She wouldn't be Crazy Siggy or Siggy the Drowned girl. Instead, she could be Siggy the Great or Siggy Mighty.

The gods would accept her sacrifice and protect her from then on. She was a descendant of Odin, just like Ragnar. The gods should be on her side as well; she was a Völva and never turned her back on them! With a swift cut, Siggy cut open her palm and dripped the blood onto the fire.

"Hail All-father, Wise Warrior,

One-eyed wanderer, Come sit at my fire.

Tell me of your wisdom stories,

The scenes your missing eye sees. You who chooses the slain,

Look on my deeds and when my time comes

To run the sky with you,

Let my end be worthy of song.

In the meantime, let me feel

Excitement and poetry and fury and joy,

Let me understand sacrifice,

Think long, Remember well, And Journey Far.

Odin, Witness this."

The fire sizzled as Siggy watched it burn to the last amber, ignoring the world around her. She could feel herself grow lightheaded, and her ears grow deaf as she slowly faded. Her now milky white eyes watched the fire turn to ashes.

The scenery changed to a great ship out on the water, all alone as the water seemed to boil around it. Steam concealed everything around the vessel as thunder boomed above. On the boat stood a man made of light bound with chains sailing towards his doom.

Laughter broke her away from her vision as hands tugged at her neckline. Siggy startled and tried to break away from the dirty hands; three men stood around her. The one that was pulling on her tunic grinned, showing his rotten black teeth to her.

Siggy did her best to wretch away from him or stab him with the blade, but another man stepped on her hand. A crunch and a stab of pain made her cry out and pull her hand with two broken fingers to herself. The last one laughed at her panic and hit her own over her head to make her stop resisting.

When they were about to rip her tunic off an axe, hit him in the back of his head. Siggy shrieked in fright, and as he fell on top of her, blood seeping from his mortal wound. The two remaining men drew their weapons but were cut down as easily as their friend.

To her surprise, Bjorn beheaded the last man as Floki pulled the corpse off her. She shook on her spot and looked at the frantic man with tearful eyes. "What were you thinking wandering so far away? We told you there were berserkers in the woods."

She choked on her words and clung to him, rocking from side to side. He wiped the blood from her face with his thumbs, shushing her crying. Bjorn glared at her and stomped in front of her.

"Are you completely stupid?! Do you have any idea what they could have done to you? Your stupid fire attracted them here!"

"Quiet, Bjorn!" Floki snapped and made Siggy look at him.

Tears streamed down her face, her lips trembling in the aftershock. She leaned closer and whispered so the Ragnarsson wouldn't hear. "I made a sacrifice to the gods. I just wanted them to help me. So I could be a great traveler like you said I would."

Floki tutted at her and pulled her closer, hiding her face in his chest. Bjorn fumed behind them and gathered the men's weapons so no one else would find them. "I had a vision. I am sorry."

The boatbuilder pulled her back and shook her head slightly to make her pay attention. "There is nothing wrong with your visions. They are gifts from the gods, no matter how heavy of a burden they might seem. But never wander off so far without telling us. Do you hear me, Siggy?"

She nodded and let him pick her up like she was weightless. For such a skinny twig, Floki was strong from all the heavy work. She rested her chin on his shoulder, watching the dead bodies on the grass. Never before did she see someone fight like Bjorn. His fighting style was nothing like Floki's. It disgusted her how it intrigued her - how much she wanted to fight like him.

Siggy was growing antsy. The envoys have been gone for too long for her liking. So when she could hear footsteps from her spot on a tree, she notched her arrow and waited for the intruder to arrive. "Don't even try it, Little Menace."

She jumped from the tree and landed in front of Floki, grinning. Her eyes drifted to the tall stranger that joined them. He looked ridiculous in his orange tunic. "Who is the princeling?"

"My name is Rollo, Duke of Normandy."

Siggy looked at Floki with her head tilted to the side in confusion. "He is joining us. Now be quiet." Bjorn commanded and walked past her, not sparing her a glance.

"I hope the traitor slits your throat first!" She spun around and hit her chest with her fist, glaring at his retreating back. Helga took her by the shoulders and asked her how she has been, complimenting the yellow tunic that she changed into.

Of course, Helga didn't need to know that she only had to change because her old tunic was covered in mud from faceplanting into it. No one had to know that, in fact.

When the boats set sail again, Siggy watched the brother of Ragnar with wary eyes. He looked laughable in his clothes. So when Bjorn gave an order to drown him, she actually giggled in glee.

They pulled in the oars and tied up his hands and feet. Everyone watched as he was thrown in. Siggy enjoyed the view from the ship's head, Floki right under her. They pulled at both sides of the rope, trapping him under the boat, and halted at Bjorn's signal.

Siggy felt giddy at the thought of death so near her, even if there was not gonna be any blood. She will take what she gets and enjoy it too.

"Pull him up!"

Damn it, Bjorn! Siggy groaned and pouted at the boatbuilder, who looked as let down as her. When they pulled the traitor back up, he laid still before retching up the water that entered his lungs. Siggy pouted harder and jumped over his body as Bjorn gave the order to row. She could hear Rollo laughing but paid him no mind. Using Hvitserk's shoulder as support, she climbed back up the mast and watched the sixty ships sail away from the castle.

They dressed him in leather as if he didn't cause the deaths of many Vikings and betray his own blood. When it was time to eat, Siggy climbed from her seat and sat down next to Helga and Floki. She watched his back as he stood next to Bjorn. She didn't know who she hated more. Floki always spoke of Rollo as scum that deserved to die. And she saw Bjorn the same way.

Maybe it was a blood thing? Rollow betrayed Ragnar and the Vikings, Ragnar betrayed the Vikings, and Bjorn betrayed her. Hopefully, Aslaug gave the other Ragnarssons some sense.

Passing by Hvitserk munching on an apple, she jumped on the edge of the boat and balanced over it. "Be careful. You don't know how to swim."

Rollo turned around and watched her dance on top of the wooden edge, dipping her toes in happily. "You don't know how to swim?"

"And you don't know how to be loyal. We all have our faults, Rollo." The man chuckled and observed her. She was a mystery to him; by her age, she couldn't be Floki's and Helga's daughter. Angrboða died as a child, and this one was too old to have been born after her. And the way she beat her chest when angry seemed so familiar to him.

She nearly tipped over into the water but steadied herself and strode on fearlessly. "It would be fun if I drowned. Like the original Siggy."

The blood in his veins grew cold at that. He hadn't heard the name; the last time he did, Bjorn's daughter was born. This annoying little madwoman couldn't be Bjorn's Siggy.

The blonde teenager twirled around on her toes and gripped a rope in her hands. She wrapped it around her throat and gasped mockingly. "Or maybe I could hang myself instead. Be original and spice it up."

"Stop fooling around!" Bjorn's voice boomed from behind them, and Siggy's features darkened. Now that she was angry, they looked so much alike. "For once in your life, be responsible and act your age!"

Jumping off the edge, she glared at him, fists clenched tightly by her sides. Helga ran to her and tried to calm down, but it was to no vain. When she spoke, her voice was icy and colder than the first frost in Kattegat used to be. "I am acting my age, your Highness. I am fifteen, as you would know if you cared enough. I always wondered why my mother left."

Bjorn pushed his shoulders back to scare her into shutting up. But it didn't work one bit; all it did was make her talk louder for all to hear. "Maybe I was an ugly baby or cried too much. But I am sure the problem wasn't me. I mean... How could she ever suffer to be near you? You are angry, unloyal, neglectful, and stupid. No wonder she left! I would have done the same!"

"That is enough! You will treat me with respect!"

"I will do no such thing, you fucking oaf!"

"You little-"

Floki cut in between them and smiled uneasily. "Don't do something you might regret, Bjorn. Friend or not, you will not touch Siggy." It always amazed Rollo how menacing someone as skinny as Floki can look. It must be the wild look in his eyes and the deranged mind.

With a huff, Bjorn turned away and stalked towards the head of the ship, his back turned to the still fuming blonde. Siggy stood there glaring at him; face stuck between anger and sadness. Everyone stared at her as Helga tried to calm her down, but nothing helped.

That is until Floki turned to her and cupped her cheek, patting her on it while tutting at her. "You will scare off all the men like this. How are we ever meant to get rid of you then, huh? And here I was hoping to get a castle for you."

Siggy turned her brooding blue eyes at his, shining the say way Ragnar's used to do. "Floki!" She scoffed and hit him over the side of the head, feigning to be insulted. "What man would be stupid enough to want me?"

"There are lots of deranged men out there." Floki joked, giggling.

"Speaking from experience, are you, Old man?"

The boatbuilder snickered again and took her by the shoulders, leading her back to their sleeping place. "Who are you calling old, huh? I am younger than I have ever been."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Hvitserk came to her later, eating like always. He ate from her share of food while she repainted the markings on her face. She had taken up to the art after she wanted to impress Floki. A child really, probably twelve or so. Back then, it looked bad, but with some practice, she got better. Now she can do it, still half asleep with her eyes closed.

"Didn't think you were a flower kind of girl." Glaring at him, she tried to grasp what he meant but then sighed. In her lap laid the flower Sigurd gave her as a parting gift.

"Bay flower means glory. It was a wish for me to wet my blade with blood and gain the people's respect."

"Aaah, so it's from Sigurd."

"No, Hvitserk. It's from your latest conquest. She cried when she gave it to me. Said I was far better than you ever were."

Hvitserk chuckled and leaned closer to her. "Why? Is your cock bigger than mine?"

"As long and thick as the mast behind you." She teased back, smirking, putting away her paint to steal back her food from him. He laughed at her boldness, patting her on the head as one might do to a dog.

Hvitserk left her to sit by Bjorn and Rollo, who tried to make sense of where they were. So Siggy made her way to her parents, who were having an argument.

"No, Helga."

"Yes. I need something more from this life."

"But not a child. Don't you remember?"

"Of course, I remember. How would I not remember?"

"There won't be a "this time." I have set my face against it. I do not want another child. Siggy is enough."

Floki stalked off, and Siggy watched Helga sob with sad eyes. It tore at her heart to see her sad. "Are you alright, Helga?"

The woman looked at her and sniffled before opening her blanket and waving her to herself. Siggy settled against her chest, her head tucked under her chin. "I am sorry."

"'Tis, alright. I have you. My pretty little warrior." The blonde gave a timid smile and hugged her mother closer. If her presence could give her some solace, Siggy would gladly look like a child in need of its mother to the other warriors. If anyone voiced it, well, they would die, of course.

#vikings #history vikings #vikings imagine #Siggy Bjornsdottir #Siggy #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #Sigurd #floki #helga

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shesclearlya3 · 5 years ago

Text

i loved you first. p.1

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,205

warnings: au! in present time, language, but okay can you imagine (not dead) Xavier THRIVING in 2020

not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by joan’s song*

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | epilogue

When you met Xavier Plympton, your relationship had been strictly platonic. You expected it to remain that way, despite the fact he was funny, empathetic, good looking, and at times, a little dumb, endearingly so.

So when you started to fall for him, you continually brushed it off.

Oh, it's just a phase, you'd think to yourself as Xavier sheepishly wiped down the kitchen after using the Ninja blender and not securing the lid tightly enough. Or the time he and his friend, Chet, spent hours in your cramped living room arguing because they couldn't figure out how to set up the Roku Xavier bought instead of paying for cable. You watched in amusement, sipping your smoothie, wrapped in your blanket until they finally figured it out.

The little things Xavier would do for you also did not help. He'd make your coffee in the morning, or make dinner on nights you'd run late or grab food on the way home, ready to pig out and watch Netflix. The little things you never thought would make you fall for someone, did.

When your first anniversary of living together passed, Xavier bought a box of Capri-Suns and put some balloons in the living room when you arrived home from work. Your feet were aching, and you were ready to take a hot shower and curl up in bed. Xavier's infectious smile made you forget all of the seemingly endless bad things that had happened to you that day.

Still, you continued to hide your true feelings. Xavier never indicated he felt the same for you, and you were afraid of getting in too deep just to become disappointed.

It was like watching a Hallmark movie enfold in front of you when your best friends, Montana and Brooke soon realized you had feelings for him.

"You should tell him, y/n," Brooke said, her eyes bright, she was quite the romantic.

"Yeah, it's unfortunate watching you pine over him," Montana said, shrugging at you when you glared at her. "What? All I'm saying is that it's sad, and you deserve to be happy," she said. Brooke nodded in agreement.

"And if he doesn't like me back? I might lose him for good," you said, pushing that wicked thought away as fast as it came. "I don't want to lose him."

Brooke and Montana shared a look before changing the subject. You still caught the glimpses they threw you throughout the evening.

That was last weekend, and now that Friday was slowly approaching, you anxiously watched as the clock ticked to the time your shift ended. Xavier wanted everybody to go out and have a good time tonight, and he claimed he was bringing along a "special guest." You immediately assumed it was Brooke's boyfriend, Ray, who was away for work and was supposed to be home a day early to surprise her.

You were... kind of correct.

Ray was there, but so was another woman.

Who Xavier introduced as his girlfriend.

The initial shock at his words quickly manifested on your face. It was more horrifying when not only Brooke and Montana looked at you, but Chet and Ray as well. You hid your face with your hair as Xavier proudly introduced his friends to the redhead who was clinging to his waist.

"-and my roommate, y/n," he gestured to you with a grin.

You slowly waved at her, ignoring the sinking feeling in your belly as she slowly sized you up and down before smiling and waving back. For a quick second, you felt judged. Until you realized you had also checked her out for the simple fact of wondering what she had that you didn't.

"Guys, this is Chloe," Xavier grinned down at her, before pressing a kiss to her head.

"How long have you two been together?" Ray asked, throwing his arm around Brooke, who slid her eyes from yours.

"About a month, huh babe?" Chloe smiled.

Your mouth dropped open, looking at the couple in front of you as if they grew two heads. You lived with him, and Xavier never told you about her?

How could you not know?

You continued to remain silent as everybody congratulated Xavier on his newfound romance. A part of you was angry; Xavier was one of your closest friends, you told him everything, and he did the same. For the most part.

Had she been to your apartment? When you weren't home? When you were asleep?

You were also angry that you seemed to miss all the signs. Plus, your heart had just been shattered into a million pieces, and the night had barely begun.

Xavier followed the boys to the bar, promising to pay for the first round. Chloe stayed behind, sitting down in the booth with a sigh. Montana took your hand, giving you a reassuring smile as your eyes blinked back tears.

"Aww, are you two dating?" Chloe asked, her eyes trained on your hands. You could hear her excitement. "I've always wanted lesbian friends!"

Montana smirked, squeezing you tighter. You gave her an alarmed look, but like always, Montana came through. "Only for this one, babe," she said. "Plus, we kind of only just met you, so."

You released Montana's hand, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom while Chloe started taking selfies for her Snapchat. Brooke went to find the boys as you walked to the nearest safe haven, keeping your head down.

You didn't realize that Montana had followed you until you went to lock the door. She gave you a sad smile as she let it click shut, before locking it. For a bathroom at a bar, it was nicely cleaned and smelt like peppermint.

"I didn't know if you wanted to be alone..." she whispered.

"N-No, it's fine," you said, ripping out some paper towels to dry your eyes with. "I appreciate the company."

"If I had known, I would have told you about her, Xavier kept her from me too."

"I just feel so stupid," you sniffled, turning on the water to wipe your eyes with. "To think Xavier would remain single forever until I grew a pair to tell him."

"It's not your fault!" Montana interjected.

You nodded to appease her, but deep down, you were still thinking of the redhead in the other room who was dating the person you loved most.

The night went with you sitting in the booth, watching all your friends dance and grind on each other.

Brooke had an early shift the next day and eventually joined you, swearing off alcohol for the rest of the night. She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, causing you to tear up a little.

Chloe seemed friendly, and you hated that. You wanted to find an excuse to hate everything about her, but it was almost impossible. She had tried talking to you about Xavier, but he pulled her up and away, and you had to stare at the table, so you didn't see them practically fucking through their clothes.

It was the worst when your closest friends didn't seem to notice something was up. Or they pretended not too. The boys were clueless, and you probably needed to be thankful for that. Chet wasn't always the best with dealing with "girl problems," and Ray was currently drunk off his ass. Xavier just danced with Chloe and occasionally came back to the table to suck down his drink.

One AM slowly came around, and you gathered your things, checking your phone to see it was close to dying.

"I think I'm gonna go home." you leaned over as Brooke looked up from her own. She smiled at you, pulling you into a hug, which you gratefully returned.

"Text me when you get there!" she said, saying a final goodbye as you slipped out of the booth. You shrugged on your light jacket, dodging the dancing bodies, and made your way to the entrance when an all too familiar hand gripped your arm.

"Hey! Where are you going, y/n?" Xavier asked, pressing your hand to his chest like he always has. He didn't seem to be drunk yet. "The night's still young, babe!"

You frowned at him, loving his touch, but you pulled your hand from him. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home!" you called out over the music, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I haven't seen you all night!" he said, a pout on his face. You wanted to throw Chloe into his face, but you knew better. He deserved to hang out with who he wanted. To date, who he wanted.

"Oh, yeah, you've been busy," you said. "I gotta go, Xav," you pulled yourself from his grasp completely before slipping the hood over your head as you walked outside to your car.

When you got home, you texted your girls like you promised and slipped into the shower. You blared your favorite songs, crying when you needed to and fuming when you didn't.

You're so naive, thinking Xavier Plympton could love you.

Don't be so harsh, you then scolded yourself. But at the same time, those words hung heavily over your heart until you crawled into bed, falling fast asleep.

The next few days were somewhat average. You went to work, came home, spent time with Montana or Brooke when Xavier wasn't back at his usual time.

You hadn't seen or heard anything from Chloe since the night you met her.

Almost a week after the bar, you were surprised to find Xavier lounged on the couch, wrapped up in blankets. His cheeks were rosy, and he looked tired. Oh no.

Xavier Plympton had a fever every few months, it seemed. You had always been his designated caretaker since you met him. A part of you hoped that some things could still be the same, even with him having a girlfriend.

He smiled at the sight of you until you heard rustling in the kitchen. You set your bag down in your usual spot, "Xavier, is it another fe-,"

"Xavier! Baby, your tea is ready," Chloe chirped as she came in from the kitchen. She didn't glance at you as she walked to Xavier, holding your designated mug in her hands.

"What kind?" Xavier piped up, sitting up just a bit. You continued winding down, using your ears instead of your eyes.

"Black."

You fought the urge to snicker aloud. Xavier's favorite tea was peppermint, especially when he was sick. You could almost imagine the disgust on his face.

"Oh, thanks, babe," he said lamely. Xavier sat up, gently blowing on the steaming mug in his hands. Chloe sat in the only available chair, watching him with rapt interest. You headed to your room, stripping from your work clothes, not realizing you were rushing just to run back out there.

You're not going to spy on them!

YES, I AM! You snickered to yourself, slipping on your pajamas before brushing out the tangled knots in your hair.

Xavier had laid back down when you came out, watching reruns of Judge Judy while Chloe typed on her phone. Her brows were furrowed as she concentrated, and even then, she looked gorgeous. You chewed on your lip as you crawled on the floor towards Xavier, who smiled at you when you sat in front of him.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Hey, you," you pressed a hand to his forehead, instantly feeling the heat radiating from his skin. "When did this start?"

Xavier shrugged, "I woke up this morning and felt like shit, I've been here all day,"

"Are you monitoring your temperature?" you asked.

"Yes."

"Are you staying, hydrated?"

"Yes."

"Did you wash your sheets?"

Xavier gave you a guilty yet charming smile. "No, I have not."

You laughed a bit, removing your hand from his forehead. "I'll do it for you," you glanced at the teacup on the coffee table, seeing it was barely touched. Chloe didn't seem to be paying you much mind, so you asked him if he'd like more tea. He nodded, almost aggressively as you stood up, promising to make his favorite.

The rest of the night went like this: Chloe hounded Xavier about a few outfit choices she was debating for an important meeting at her job. You made Xavier some soup, opting to reheat your leftovers from the night before. Xavier drank two cups of peppermint tea, then dozed off, leaving an awkward silence between you and Chloe. She seemed attached to her phone, but you didn't mind.

You watched television, still sitting in the same spot on the floor as Xavier softly snored in your ear. It wasn't until you were dozing off yourself that Chloe left, pressing a kiss to Xavier's hot forehead before leaving.

You had changed and washed his bedsheets, but you knew it was pointless trying to move him into bed. When Xavier was sick, he slept like he was dead. You turned off the television and gathered his dirty dishes to place them in the sink.

No matter what became of you and Xavier, or Xavier and Chloe, you knew some things would just never change. One of them is you would always care for Xavier, no matter what.

*if you want to be added to the taglist, you know the drill.*

#xavier plympton x reader #cody fern #ahs 1984 #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #ahs imagine

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littleredlie · 4 years ago

Text

Derailed (S1P1)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical. On the day of Med’s reopening Morgan is in the middle of a tense situation as old friends from the past come back and form uneasy relationships with newer friends. Based off S1E1 of Chicago Med.

3.9k+ Words

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Will Halstead, Natalie Manning, April Sexton, Maggie Lockwood, Ethan Choi, Daniel Charles, Sarah Reese, Sharon Goodwin, Connor Rhodes Warning: This might be complete shit, I don’t know. I tried my hardest with the medical stuff, a lot might be inaccurate. A/N: Let me know how you like it

The alarm clock that sat on the nightstand beside Morgan’s bed rang as it changed to 4:45 AM. At the sound, the weary woman’s eyes blink open with great difficulty. She does not move for a moment, letting the alarm to ring a bit more before slapping her hand against the off button. Pulling herself up, she peeks out the open window to her right, noticing that Chicago was slowly coming to life for the day. It was November now, she had to turn the heat in the apartment soon though her roommate has been telling her to do it since August, but it always got hot in Morgan’s room. She hears a train nearby rumbling along the tracks and she can see a light tinge of blue sitting on the horizon. She had been back in Chicago for three years, but the mornings still entranced her. When a bird flies past her window, Morgan takes it as a signal to start getting ready for work.

Turning on the lamp, her small room becomes illuminated and the picture of her sister that sat on the nightstand beside the alarm clock came into view. It was taken during Morgan’s graduation from medical school about a month before their lives changed. Tearing her eyes away from the frame, she slips the bonnet off her head and places it on the vacant pillow to her left. The bun her hair was in unwraps into a ponytail, the ends of her braids tickling her upper back. Throwing the blue covers off her bare legs, Morgan slips her feet into the slippers beside her bed and trudges towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway. However, before she could get there, she noticed a light peering out from under her roommate’s door. She stops and softly knocks, pushing the door a little without waiting for a knock.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Morgan’s eyes sweep over Hayden’s body and she is immediately given her answer. The reporter was slumped over her desk, papers scattered over her bed and on the floor. Hayden looks up to Morgan, her glasses sitting on top of her head and bags stacking under her eyes.

“I’m about to get a huge lead about a sex trafficking group operating around Garfield Park and Humboldt. People are going missing and I know that I’m getting near, I just need –”

“What you need is rest” Morgan interrupts her leaning on the doorframe. “You cannot keep pushing this hard or your body is gonna crash”

“But–”

“No buts.” Morgan pulls the pen out of her roommate’s hand. “Get some rest please, doctor’s orders.”

“You know you cannot keep using your occupation over me, you don’t see me saying investigative reporter’s orders.” Hayden leans back in her chair, arms folding over her chest, a soft smile on her lips.

“Well, when I go chasing sex traffickers in Central Chicago than you can pull that shit.” She smiles back. “I’m gonna go get ready for work, I don’t need the car today so I’ll leave the car keys on the counter.”

“It's reopening today right? After ya know.” Hayden shrugs. That night was rough, Morgan was running on fumes before the explosion and after the lockdown she was trying her best not to tip over.

“Yeah, it’s being televised,” the doctor forces a breath out. “I hope today’s easy, cause these last few months have not. I’ll see you later.” With that Morgan closes Hayden’s bedroom door and heads to the bathroom. Soon the shower head is pushing out water and steam is beginning to fog up the mirrors. The clock in the bathroom reads 4:57 and Morgan knows that she has to hurry if she wants to make it to the hospital by 5:45. She was glad that they found this apartment not too far from the hospital that she’d been working at for the past three years.

When a shower cap is put over her braids, the dark skinned woman puts herself under the warm water, her shoulder muscles relaxing just a little. Almost instinctively, her hand grazes over the surgical scar that was just under her belly and it lingers. Pulling her hand away she focuses on the rest of her body until she is done. She dries herself and applies lotion quickly, wanting to bring the attention to her makeup. Morgan did not do much when it came to makeup, she’d put light foundation and do her eyebrows. She decided to leave her box braids in a high bun reinforced bu two scrunchies. With a towel wrapped around her body, Morgan heads to her room to get dressed.

Her maroon scrubs and white lab coat were folded on top of the ottoman at the end of her bed. Slipping on a pair of black boxer briefs and a black sports bra, she knew that she had no one to impress. It’s been a bit of a dry spell since she broke up with her detective ex-boyfriend last spring. It wasn’t like it bothered her much, she was busy with work and had been focusing on her family. There wasn’t time to date (and she couldn’t deny that it took a bit of time to get over him). Glancing at the clock again, she sees that it was 5:20. The train station was about five minutes away, so she had to hurry. She’ll eat when she gets to the hospital. Throwing on her sneakers, jacket, scarf, and hat, Morgan then grabs her phone and her well prepared backpack.

A chill danced down her spine the moment she stepped outside and made her way to the train station. She waves to the lady opening the flower store to her right as her steps reverberate off the concrete steps. Putting in the headphones connected to her phone, Morgan starts an audio book, her focus only on the words of the story and her destination.

It wasn’t long till she got there, recognizing familiar commuters and passing a few smiles to those who were willing to accept. The ride was uneventful, but Morgan was not focusing on everyone else. She was either listening to the book or her mind was wondering about the day that laid out in front of her. Working in an emergency department was unpredictable, it could be a day filled with easy answers and wins or it could be tragic, long, hard, stressful. Morgan’s been at Chicago Memorial for three years, finishing her residency for emergency medicine and then accepting an attending position. After graduating from University of Colorado’s M.D. program, she decided to come back home after 11 years and applied to a few hospitals in Chicago. Chicago Memorial was her first choice and when she got it, it was like she was starting over. That was until everything happened.

The train stops at her destination and the doctor shuffles off with a few others. Briskly, she makes her way to the hospital, arriving the same time as Dr. Will Halstead. Yanking the headphones from her ears, she walks up to him and nudges him slightly, bringing a small smile to his face.

“Ready for today?” She asks him and he looks down at her, nodding slightly.

“I was so excited I couldn’t sleep last night,” Morgan laughs at his tone and he laughs with her.

“Okay, let’s just get through the day.” Together they walk through the lobby where people are beginning to set up for a press conference. In the doctor’s lounge, Will diverts his attention to Natalie while Morgan heads to her locker. She hangs up her backpack on the hook, pulls out her white coat to put on, and pulls out her purple stethoscope, stuffing it into the left pocket of her white coat. She makes sure her pager is on before stuffing it into her right coat packet.

Soon doctors, nurses, reporters, administration and more are standing in the lobby listening to Mrs. Goodwin speak praising remarks for the mayor. There are cheers and claps resonating around the room and the air is light. It isn’t like that for too long. The second Goodwin cuts the ribbon for the new emergency department, various pagers and cell phones begin to ring. Morgan looks at Dr. Choi when he pulls out his pager and soon after hers begins to ring. She pulls it out and glances down to it, her eyebrows furrowing together. She sees the Mayor being ushered off before Maggie walks out through the automatic doors.

“CFD Plan 2, mass cas. Multiple trauma patients, minutes away.” She yells. “Let’s go!” She urges and medical personnel begin to push themselves through the doors.

❦

All of sudden the emergency department is busy and there are sirens nearing the hospital. Maggie immediately begins delegating as paramedics pour through from the bay. Morgan is pushed to Trauma 1.

A young teenage girl who’s clutching her arm to her chest sits on the gurney. Morgan peers down and sees her tibia poking out of her shin and knows that the girl is in pain.

“Let’s start a morphine drip!” Dr. Fitzgerald yells out, a nurse fulfilling her orders. “Transfer on my count, gently,” everyone surrounding the girl clutches at the sheet, preparing to move her onto the treatment table. “One, two, three,” with a soft thud the girl is finally on the table.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitzgerald, what’s your name sweetie?”

“Grace,” she breathes out, obviously having trouble breathing. “My name’s Grace.”

“Alright Grace, we’re doing everything we can to help you.” Morgan flashes a light in front of her eyes to see her pupil’s reaction. “Pupils are reactive to light, blood pressure and sats are normal, heart rate is increasing. She’s tachy, let’s push 3 of Ativan.” The room moves around Morgan as they tend to the patient who is crying in front of her. Morgan puts a nasal cannula on Grace’s face so that she could breathe easier.

Moving to her head, Morgan takes off the collar and looks down. “Grace, I need you to do something for me real quick, okay?” Morgan nods and places her hands to each side of Grace’s head. “Alright, can you touch your chin to the chest?” Grace does so and Morgan then has her move her head side to side. “C-Spine’s clear. Doris, get me Xray and Ortho down here.”

“On it!” Doris leaves the room momentarily, before returning back to help. Morgan walks down to Grace’s feet and checks it’s pulse.

“Need any help in here?” Dr. Halstead’s voice comes up from behind Morgan and she gives out a sigh of relief.

“Dr. Halstead, I need you to help me reset her tibia before it leads to any deficits.” She says to him, not taking her eyes off of Grace. “Where the hell is that xray?!”

“Should be here momentarily, they’re all used up,” Will heads to the side of Grace’s right leg and nods to Morgan.

“Hey Grace, this is going to hurt a lot, but we need to do this, okay?” Grace goes into panic mode and starts shaking her head, tears ferociously gliding down her face.

“No, please no!”

“Grace, I understand how you might feel right now, but Dr. Halstead and I need to do this. I promise, it’ll take just a few seconds and then we can fix you up.” Without waiting for confirmation from the teenage girl, Morgan nods towards her colleague and together they work. Morgan pulls down on Grace’s leg, maneuvering the tibia back into her leg. Grace lets out a scream, tears moving down her face at a faster rate. “Alright, Grace, we’re all good now.” Xray finally walks in and everyone who is void of a lead apron, moves out of the way.

In the background Maggie reports another incoming, and it pulls the attention of the two doctors. “You got this from here?” Will looks down, aiming the question at Morgan.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’ll be there to help you when I get Grace up to the OR.” She nods and he places a gentle hand on her arm, her replying with a soft smile. Will walks away from her and she turns back to her patient. Morgan and Doris work on calming her down and prepping her for her trip upstairs.

“What do you got for me?” Someone from surgery walks up behind Morgan, slightly starting her.

“She has an open fracture to her tibia, we cleaned the wound and maneuvered the bone back into her leg. Her arm has a closed fracture, due to her Xray I’d say she just needs a cast. Her leg, she’s definitely going to need surgery for realignment.” The surgeon, Dr. Lasonde, nods and both she and Morgan work to get Grace upstairs.

Soon Grace is on her way upstairs, her leg and arm placed into splints, and Morgan is throwing her gloves to the ground as she watches Lassonde push the gurney, a frightened Grace on top of it. Running a hand through her hair and giving a sigh out, she thanks the team around her before being rerouted to another person coming through the doors.

❦

Later, as she works at the computer filling out paperwork for Grace, Morgan peers up and notices someone stepping out of Trauma 4 and talking to Mrs. Goodwin.

Connor?

Before Morgan can approach him another team of paramedics walk in with Jamie and Goodwin sends them into a treatment room. Morgan looks down and finishes typing up her charts. “Hey Sharon!” Morgan yells to grab the administrator’s attention and she stops, stepping beside the curious doctor. “Was that Connor Rhodes?”

“Yeah, he’s the new trauma fellow. You know him?” She looks between the room he stepped in and Dr. Fitzgerald.

“Yeah, I do.” She says absentmindedly, “ Huh, I wonder why he didn’t tell me?” Morgan wonders for a moment before looking back down to the computer screen. “It’s fine, I don’t want to bother him while he’s with a patient.”

“I don’t have to worry about anything do I?” Sharon asks, hoping that drama wasn’t gonna arise between them.

“Oh, of course not! Connor and I have known each other since we were kids, he just didn’t tell me he was being transferred here. Don’t worry Sharon.” Goodwin nods and walks away from Morgan. Then Maggie walks up with a distraught, older white woman. “What can I do for you Mags?” MOrgan finally turns away from the computer and gives the duo her full attention.

“Dr. Fitzgerald, this is Grace’s mom, Candace.” Maggier introduces and Morgan smiles at the woman, holding out a hand for a handshake.

“Is my daughter okay?” Candace asks, fear in her eyes and Morgan does her best to calm her down.

“I can assure you that your daughter is okay. She had a closed fracture in her arm that just needed a cast and her leg had an open fracture. That’s a little more complicated, but she just needs her tibia realigned so she’s in surgery.”

“Surgery?”

“It shouldn’t be too long now, and I am willing to walk you up to wait for her.” Morgan places a gentle touch on Candace’s forearm and beckons her to follow. “Thank you, Maggie. I got her.” Maggie nods and continues her job as a charge nurse.

As the doctor and patient make their way, Candace begins to ramble. “Grace wasn’t supposed to be on the train today, I was supposed to take her. This is all my fault.”

“Candace. Candace.” Morgan pulls the woman to a stop and looks her in the eye. “It is not your fault, these things just happen. But that’s not what Grace is worried about right now, I’m pretty sure that she just wants to see her mother.” Candace sniffles and reluctantly nods, letting the doctor take her to the waiting room outside Grace’s OR.

❦

After doing a few more rounds in the emergency department, Morgan sat herself in the doctor’s lounge, still not able to find time to talk to Connor. Morgan isn’t paying attention to the conversation happening between Natalie and Will, instead focusing on the charts of another one of her patients on the tablet in her hands.

“You meet the new guy yet? Rhodes?” At her friend’s name leaving Natalie’s lips, Morgan’s head snaps up.

“You could say that.” Will answers back. “Likes to throw his weight around.” He leans back in his chair, his body still facing Natalie. “I don’t know, strikes me as a little arrogant.”

Natalie gives him a little look as she contemplates the words he just said to her.

“Hey, I am not arrogant.” He scoffs at her, a teasing smile on his face. Morgan rolls her eyes and feels herself getting a little defensive over her old friend.

“No, no. Not at all.” Natalie says, sarcastically, to his remarks. “You just happen to know more than anyone else.”

“Hey,” Morgan grasps the attention of her friends and colleagues. “I promise Connor isn’t always like that. It was just a stressful situation to be making introductions.” She says, barely looking up to her colleagues.

“Woah, Connor?” Will questions at the familiarity that Morgan had with his name. He glances at her, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, Dr. Rhodes. He’s an excellent doctor and he’s great to work with.”

“Have you ever worked with him?” Natalie asks, taking another sip from her water bottle.

“No, I haven’t. But I know him and I promise, he isn’t a dick.” With that Morgan makes her way out of the room, she smiles at Nat and doesn’t spare a look at Will.

❦

A few hours later, Morgan makes her way up to see Grace. She’s up and talking to her mom, a smile on her face. Morgan knocks at the entrance of the recovery room, peering her head in to take a view at her patient.

“Dr. Fitzgerald!” Candace exclaims, waving the young doctor in.

“How’s everything going Grace? You look a lot better than when I first saw you.” Morgan glances over her vitals and chart before walking to the unoccupied side of the bed.

“Yeah, I’m doing better. The pain meds are really helping out.” She grins.

“That’s good. It looks like you’re okay for being discharged tomorrow morning. And I will try my hardest to come by and see you off.”

“Thank you Dr. Fitzgerald.” Candace reaches over and clasps Morgan’s hand. “For helping my daughter and for helping me.”

“It’s no problem, really.” She squeezes back before pulling away. “You two have a good night, and just let any of the nurses know if you need anything.” With that Morgan delivers one more smile and heads out of the room.

Now that it was the end of her shift Morgan decided to make finding Connor her number one goal.. She was ready to give up but finally spotted him standing outside a recovery room. She sneaks up beside him and peers in, Jamie is off of the ventilator and Dr. Charles sits beside him watching something on a tablet. Morgan had heard about the operation Jamie had and she could tell that he looked so much better.

“So, when were you gonna tell me that you were coming back to Chicago?” Connor jumps, whipping around to look at the owner of the voice.

“Morgan!” He chuckles out, pulling the doctor into his embrace. She hugs him back before pulling herself out and raising an eyebrow at him.

“So, were you just going to end up on our front doorstep hoping we were gonna take you in?”

“No, I was going to surprise you. I just wanted to come back, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do. Welcome home Connor.” She gives him a small smile, looking at the one he was returning to her. “Hey, I heard about your comatose patient, sorry about that.”

“Yeah, it was tough, but he helped us save Jamie.”

“That’s good, Jamie’s a good kid. He deserves it.” They both look inside the room for a moment, before Morgan looks down at the watch sitting on her wrist. “Hey, there’s this diner that’s open 24 hours, wanna grab something to eat? Catch up and give you a bit of a rundown on how things are run here at Chicago Med.”

Connor looks down at Morgan, her head still facing Jamie and Dr. Charles. “Yeah, sure. You buying?” She finally looks up at him with a scoff.

“Yeah right.” The fellow laughs at her and she leads him back to the doctor’s lounge in the ED. Stripping herself of her stethoscope, she places it in the locker, taking a glance of the family picture she had pinned up alongside the picture she had with Connor from her undergrad graduation.

“You hang that up in here?” He gawks at the picture, noticing how much the two of you had grown in the last 7 years.

“Yeah, I did. You are my best friend, besides Hayden of course.” Morgan hangs up the white coat on a hook in the cubby under the locker before continuing her answer,“but even when we were miles apart, you were always there for me.” She softly closes the locker.

“Huh.” He looks at Morgan, coming to the same realization about her.

“Let’s go, I am dying for their mashed potatoes.” He smiles and grabs his belongings before heading out of the lounge with his friend. On the way out the door, they pass Will.

She urges Connor to continue walking as she looks up at her other friend. “Hey Will, I’m sorry for getting all snappy at you earlier. Just got a little overprotective.” Morgan shrugs, placing her hands in her jacket pocket.

“It’s alright, I understand. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.” He nods, looking over the soft smile on her face.

“You’re okay, Connor has his moments.”

Will and Morgan were an enigma. They worked well together, everyone could agree on that. And outside of work, they proved to have a level of care for each other as well as always having each other’s backs. With the amount of affection they always seemed to portray to each other, everyone also wondered why they weren’t together. They made a good pair and the blinded love they had for each other was glaringly apparent to outsiders. The two doctors however, never saw it. Will was too hung up on his crush on Natalie and Morgan wasn’t looking for a relationship (the fact that she also dated his brother didn’t help). For now, they would be friends and if the universe allowed for something to happen, the universe would prevail.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Will asks, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his scrubs.

“Actually, I’m the welcoming committee for Dr. Rhodes so I’m taking him to the diner up the street.” Will nods, but dashes his eyes to where Connor is standing. “But tomorrow morning, I’m bringing coffee.” Morgan says, bringing a bigger smile on her face and chuckle to Will.

“Alright then, have a good night Morgan,” he says.

“Night Will, see you tomorrow.” She gives him a quick, small pat on his arm before turning away and walking up to Connor. They two old friends resume their conversation and Will watches the smile on Morgan’s face as she continues walking with the new doctor.

Part Two

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adenei · 4 years ago

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Fake It ‘Til You Make It - Ch. 1

Summary: Football is life for Ginny Weasley, but when her school's football team is suddenly disbanded, she must figure out what to do next. Good thing her brother is heading to Germany for two weeks, giving her the chance to take his place at the rivalry school and prove her worth on their boy's team. It's a crazy plan, she knows, but she'll do anything to play football. The only thing she wasn't anticipating? Falling for her brother's roommate. Based on the Rom-Com She's the Man.

AO3 || FFN

Not entirely sure how anticipated this actually is (it’s probably not lol), but so begins the next HP Rom Com adventure!

There was nothing Ginny Weasley loved more than the time that blended the end of the summer holidays and the beginning of the school year. Not because she was eager to return to school. No, that wasn’t it at all. The football season was beginning, and for Ginny Weasley, football was life.

Today was the last day before team trials would begin at Beauxbatons, the school Ginny attended. It was closer to home than the other boarding school in their county, and her parents didn’t have an exorbitant amount of money to pay for boarding. She was hopeful, though, that she might be offered a scholarship this year based on her performance.

So, she was treating today’s excursion with her friends in the park as one more practice session. They were playing a pick-up game, and right now, she was killing it. Her team erupted in cheers when she scored another goal, and her boyfriend scooped her up and kissed her hard on the lips.

“That’s my girl,” Michael Corner said.

The game ended and they headed back to the blankets that they’d laid out earlier.

“I’ve got a brilliant feeling about the upcoming season! The Beauxbatons’ girls team is going to be the team to beat this year,” Ginny commented as the rest of the girls agreed.

“Of course it will, babe! They’ll have you on their team,” Michael said with a wink in her direction. “It’s a shame they won’t let us play co-ed. We’d win the championship for sure! No question.”

Ginny leaned into her boyfriend’s strong arms as they enjoyed the last day of freedom. Yes, this was going to be the best year yet.

Okay, this was turning out to be the exact opposite of the best year yet, and it was only day one. There was no way Beauxbatons cut the girl’s football team! Why would they do that? It made no sense. But judging by the way Angelina, Katie, and Alicia all had steam coming out of their ears, she knew it could be true.

“Well, if they disbanded our team, then we’ll attend trials for the boy’s team,” Ginny said determinedly as she led the charge to the field.

As they approached, they saw the boys warming up for training. Ginny did not hesitate as she marched onto the field. Michael saw her and began to run over, followed by several of the other boys.

“What do you think you’re doing,” the boy’s coach snarled.

“We’re here to find out why the girl’s team has been cut, Coach Snape,” Ginny demanded.

“The matters of the Beauxbatons girl’s football team mean nothing to me. Now, get off my field,” Coach Snape pushed Ginny out of his way.

Ginny was losing her temper now. “You can’t honestly tell me you don’t know the reason!”

Coach Snape stared at her with a look of pure hatred as he contemplated what to do next. Ginny hoped he’d tell her. Finally, he spoke.

“If you must know, the Board of Directors cut the girl’s team so the money could go toward the Debutante program. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have football trials to conduct.”

Ginny was dumbfounded. Would she ever be free from that blasted program? She saw Michael give her a smug shrug as he turned to make his way back to the field. There was something about his ‘tough luck’ look that made Ginny retaliate.

“Let us join trials!” she shouted.

Coach Snape froze and turned ever so slowly to face her. “What did you just say?” His voice paused precariously on each word.

“Let us try out for the team. We can play just as well as the boys,” Ginny pressed. The girls behind her nodded in agreement.

She heard Michael laugh. “Come on, babe, don’t be ridiculous. This is a boy’s team. You can’t play with us.”

“Oh, really? Weren’t you just saying yesterday how I play better than half the boys here? What happened to that attitude? You aren’t intimidated by my skills, are you?”

Ginny felt her face flush with anger. Michael sputtered and spewed a bunch of nonsense, but not once did he come to her defense.

“Look, Ginny, the season opener against Hogwarts is in two weeks. We’ll never win if we let girls on the team. We’ll be the laughing stock of the league! I’m sorry about the girl’s team, I really am, but you’re crazy if you think you could play with us.”

Ginny gaped at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, you know what, Michael? You can have your precious football team. We’re over!” She turned to Coach Snape. “Please? Just one chance is all I’m asking for. I can prove that I belong on the team!”

“No girls,” Snape replied pointedly.

Ginny was left standing on the side of the pitch as Snape returned to the boys and continued with their practice as if nothing happened. Ginny could faintly hear her teammates saying how unfair everything was before she stomped off the field in anger.

She fumed the entire way home. The sky matched her mood, threatening rain as she walked the short journey home. After what seemed like an eternity, the Burrow came into view. Ginny was looking forward to flopping on her bed and blasting music in an attempt to try not to think about this disaster of a day. She was a few paces from the gate when she heard a voice that made her cringe.

“Ron? Ron! ROOOOOON!”

“Bloody hell,” Ginny said under her breath.

Her hand was on the latch of the gate when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Ron, why are you ignoring—OH, hi Ginny, I thought you were—”

“Ron. Yeah, I gathered that. Sorry to disappoint,” Ginny spat annoyedly.

Lavender Brown was Ron’s girlfriend and had a bad habit of showing up at the worst times. Ginny wasn’t even sure why Ron kept her around. She was a needy, whiny blonde bombshell who always got everything she wanted, and she acted like she was better than everyone else.

“Well, have you seen him?” Lavender asked haughtily.

“Why would I have? Just because he’s my brother and I live with him doesn’t mean I see him all the time. Did you even bother to knock on the door?” Ginny pointed to the house.

Ginny knew the answer before Lavender even responded. Lavender didn’t particularly care for anyone in the Weasley family aside from Ron.

“No, of course not! He said he’d meet me here. If you see him, can you—”

“Send him out to you? Yeah, yeah, sure,” Ginny said as she shut the gate.

She’d had enough of Lavender’s obnoxious attitude, and it wasn’t helping her sour mood.

“Wait, Ginny! You’re going to tell him, right? Right?” Lavender persisted.

Ginny waved her off as she heard Lavender shriek about why Ron wouldn’t answer any of her phone calls and messages. She couldn’t help herself when she turned around and said, “You know, Lav, maybe you should take the hint. When a guy stops answering your calls and texts and avoids you, it’s a telltale sign that they want to break up.”

That earned a scream from Lavender’s lips. “No one breaks up with me! It’s not over until I say it’s over! You have no idea what you’re talking about and who you’re talking to!”

Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle as she went on her way, leaving Lavender in her little tirade. Finally, something was looking up for Ginny. Maybe her brother was going to chuck his pain in the arse girlfriend. Riling Lavender up almost made Ginny forget about the disaster at Beauxbatons. It was short-lived, though. When Ginny walked in the front door, she saw her mum sitting at the kitchen table with none other than Aunt Muriel, who had two poofy pink dresses laid out over the chairs.

Not this again.

#hinny #she's the man inspired

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pluto-art · 4 years ago

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Syncytium - Chapter 2 - Ferrum

Title: Syncytium - Chapter 2 - Ferrum Words: 5,707 Rating: T

Fan Fiction link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/2/Syncytium

Full chapter below the cut. I’d recommend the fan fiction version, however, which includes all the italicized words which are not emphasized here.

September 11th, 7:30 AM

Darkness.

A light flicked on. It flickered a moment before settling. A pen sharpened... and subsequently broken. Whoops. A vase with three roses delicately placed right near a picture in frame with four occupants. Perfect.

Pinky clasped his hands together, sighed deeply, and tipped his square rimmed glasses down a little, the better to address his eager pupils.

"Good morning, class! I am Dr. Ronald Pinkus, Professor of Trozology!"

And he wrote upon the blackboard behind him with vigor as he said it, accidentally flipping the 'k' in 'Pinkus'. He turned back towards the crowd.

"But you can call me Pinky! Ha-ha-ha!"

It was a carrying little laugh, bouncing and pinging excitedly off the walls with a lonely echo.

"I'll be your teacher this semester, and that's because, well, I'm the only teacher of this subject!"

He giggled again. No one said anything.

"You'll be instructed on the topics of Poitilism, Narfonics, and, of course, Trozology. Allllllllll grades are final, except, of course, when they're not, in which case... I'll get back to you on that!" said he, chuckling to himself once more. "Now, are there any questions? Anyone? Yes! Nilly."

If Nilly had raised her hand, no one noticed. But, then again, no one seemed to care. Perhaps it was because Nilly had no hands to raise in the first place. Perhaps this was because Nilly was actually a sack of flour. Or perhaps it was because all the "students" were made up of things like an empty bottle of soda, a bag of corn chips, two toilet paper rolls stacked one on top of the other, and a plunger. Whatever the reason, only Pinky seemed to have recognized Nilly and her very silent question. He didn't seem to mind, however. On the contrary, he positively beamed, acknowledging his pitiful excuse for a pupil-laden classroom as if they were real mice, voles, hamsters, and shrews hanging onto his every word like campfire kids to a spooky story.

"Well, I'm glad you asked that, Nilly, because I happen to be verrrrry versed in the subject!" Pinky snickered, eyes half-lidded as he picked imaginary dirt from his fingers, looking in the direction of his students with a very devious smirk indeed.

Several doors down and around a corner, in the middle of a long hallway, a locker was being absolutely mutilated. Books, pencils, various household tools, and a half-eaten burrito wrapped in tin foil were carelessly tossed onto the floor, its aggressor in a state of pure panic.

"Ohhhhh, shoot. Where are they?!" Gadget growled, hair a little unkempt as she flung a notebook over her shoulder, almost hitting a passerby in the process.

"Hey! Watch it!" the boy mouse shrieked, dodging out of the path of the wayward notebook just in time.

Gadget didn't even seem to notice as she continued to tear through her locker, muttering angrily to herself as she threw a pencil case onto the floor. It burst open. One of the pencils popped out, rolling all the way across from the locker and underneath the door of room three-nineteen. On and on the little chartreuse pencil rolled, finally coming to rest with a soft 'plink' against Dr. Globetrotter's desk. His ear twitched at the sound and his head peered around the side of the desk at its source. There sat a thin, yellow pencil. He picked it up, frowning, and set it down on a far side of his desk.

"As I was saying," Globetrotter rang, clearing his throat, but he'd barely reached out for his mug of steaming hot coffee before the class was interrupted yet again, this time by a very haphazard-looking and goggle-less Gadget.

"Sorry I'm late," she mumbled, head down and gaze firmly directed at the floor as she shuffled past a barrage of staring eyes to plop into her seat between Maisy and Tillie. Gadget shut her eyes tight. She, along with everyone else in the room, knew what was coming, and they all held their breath in anticipation.

The unpleasant echo throughout the room was palpable as Globetrotter set down his mug, glaring.

"Oh, well, I suppose we all can just excuse Miss Gadget here from arriving two minutes past our start time. Obviously, she has more important things to do than be punctual. I guess my precious hours of time spent preparing for this class that will help all of you get a proper education simply don't matter in light of one tardily-inclined, mucilage-chewing student forgetting their pack of lime-flavored gum right before 7:30, is that right?"

Sarcasm dripped like venom from every syllable, causing Gadget to shrink ever lower in her seat. Somewhere in the class, journal boy jotted down "tardily-inclined" and "mucilage-chewing" under the ever-growing list of Globetrotter insults. Maisy glared at their teacher, but, like every other student, she didn't dare say anything. To retort meant a week's worth of detention, and they all knew that it was better to bite the bullet now than suffer the consequences for a harsh retort later.

"It's not like I spend all night grading your measly excuses for a thesis, carefully combing every paragraph for even a sliver of intelligence, while you're at home watching reruns of Dukes of Hazard..."

On and on it went, ironically cutting into his so-called "precious time" to teach. On and on he rolled, all the way up until 7:55 AM. The only good thing about it was that it was twenty-five minutes they didn't have to spend studying. Some had taken to drawing little sketches in their notebooks, others took the opportunity to sneak in a snack or two, and Tillie was full-on knitting.

Finally, he reached the end of his spiel. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Now... Seeing as that's hopefully enlarged your minds a little, please turn to page eighty-seven of your textbooks, as we delve into the absolutely incredible topic of Meiosis."

"'Incredible', my arse," Maisy muttered. "Couldn't find your goggles, huh?"

Gadget shook her head, too embarrassed to give a verbal reply.

"Oh, leave her alone. We've forgotten our fair share of trinkets before," Tillie whispered, putting away her knitting. "What are you so upset about? I thought you had hearts for Globetrotter."

Maisy didn't reply, but shot another scathing glare at Globetrotter as she pulled out her textbook.

"Trusting that we won't have any more interruptions," bit their teacher, shooting a look at Gadget as he said it, "I'd like you all to turn your attention to..."

Bang.

Everyone jumped, including Globetrotter. He turned behind him to stare at the wall. What...?

"A-As I was saying, please direct your attention to..."

BANG.

Nobody jumped this time, but Globetrotter once more turned sharply 'round to inspect the wall. The heck?

A few seconds passed. Nothing. Perhaps someone was just doing maintenance... in the unused classroom?

"Kindly direct your atten-"

BANG!

"Graaaaaaaaahhhh!" Globetrotter growled, storming out of the classroom and followed by a host of eyes watching him go. Gadget cautiously sat up in her chair as he went.

Down the hallways he trundled, shoulders hunched, every footstep a declaration of annoyance as he made for door two-ten, pushing aside the occasional student or teacher who dared cross his path. It was fortunate the door was a little ajar, for he kicked it open with such force that it flew open, BANGED against the wall, and reverberated so heavily that it shook the walls. Had it been closed the door handle probably would have broken along with it.

"What in CURIE'S name are you DOING?!" the angry little mouse shouted, smoke practically steaming off of him as he fumed, his fiery gaze trained squarely at the tall, lanky mouse in front of him.

Pinky was in mid-swing, one leg raised high up in the air as his paws clutched firmly around a wooden baseball bat. He was dressed in full baseball attire, and his classroom had been very primitively set up to resemble a sandlot of sorts, each of his "students" serving as the players. Globetrotter's explosion had thrown him off only a smidgen. If anything, Pinky beamed and waved at the newcomer.

"Mr. Globetrotter! You're just in time for the home run! Or... you would have been if you hadn't thrown me off just now," he giggled.

"Would you kindly explain why you're using your room as a sports arena?!" Globetrotter snapped.

"Oh! Well, Nilly here wanted to know if I was well-versed in the thrilling art of baseball, and I couldn't turn that one down 'cause, you know, I am. Hmhm!"

Globetrotter turned to look at this "Nilly", arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

"That's a sack of flour," he retorted, unimpressed.

Pinky gasped.

"How rude! He didn't mean it, Nilly. Did you, Brain? Say you're sorry to Nilly!"

"It's Brian, and I am not apologizing to an inanimate object! And I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from playing baseball in a classroom! Don't you realize you're disturbing the peace - upsetting my students and keeping me from my work?"

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Is your classroom on the other side of that wall?"

"Yes."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Got it, Brain! We'll play baseball later, shall we?"

"You shall."

And with that, he stormed off... right into Olivia, in fact, who was in full delivery mode. The force of their impact knocked her backwards onto the floor.

"Ah! My letter!" she screeched, reaching for a little yellow note that had slipped out of her hands.

"Hmph," Globetrotter muttered, completely ignoring her as he trudged back to his classroom.

Olivia watched him go, reeling back a little at the slam of a door five seconds later.

"Ooo. Too angry. Too angry," she mumbled to herself, sprinting up to classroom two-ten and peering inside.

Pinky was now hard at work not playing baseball. All the chairs, tables, and "students" were being reshuffled to resemble a normal classroom again, the big television in the back rolled up to the front behind the main desk to serve as a new source of entertainment.

"Sorry, class. Baseball is canceled for the moment," apologized Pinky, hooking up the tv as Olivia tip-toed into the classroom and carefully shut the door behind her. "Oh well. That's why I brought my Honeymooners tapes, "he exclaimed, whipping out the tapes from the stand's shelf in a flourish. He was just about to pop one in when a light cough caught his attention. He turned around. There was Olivia smiling at him.

"Oh! Hello, Olivia!"

"Hello, Mr. Pinky," she said, a little shyly this time. "I've got something for you."

"Another letter?" he asked, taking it from her and reading:

Dear Mr. Pinkus,

I must regret to inform you that baseball or sports of any kind are not allowed in the hallways and classrooms. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I also appreciate my job, and I can't very well keep it when there's a home run going on a few doors down. This is for your own sake. I do hope this reaches you before Globetrotter does...

Sincerely, Mrs. Judson

"I think baseball in the school is a wonderful idea," Olivia piped up as Pinky read the letter, his ears lowering a little as he went over each word. "I heard we used to have a field, but... they got rid of that years ago." Her own little ears, round and pink, drooped at this. Pinky thought a moment.

"Well... perhaps we could make a petition?"

"Petition?"

"Certainly!" said he, setting down his tapes for a moment. "We could write up a letter saying we'd like a baseball stadium back on the lot, and if we get enough signatures..."

"We'll get one!" Olivia gasped, tiny hands tucking up against her chest in excitement.

"Well, maybe. It still has to pass the board of directors now, don't it?"

"We'll get a lot of signatures then. You get the form, and I'll get people to sign it!"

Pinky smiled.

"You've got yourself a petition there, Missy! I'll draw one up tonight!"

"Good good!" Olivia exclaimed, bouncing up and down, tam-o'-shanter bouncing this way and that. "So what do you teach?"

"Oh, a little of this. A little of that," Pinky said, dodging the question. "Do you like The Honeymooners?"

"The Honeywho?" she asked, shuffling about his desk and picking up one of the bunsen burners to peer into it with a curious eye.

"Now don't tell me you've never heard of one of the best television shows of all time!"

"Not really. I don't watch a lot of tv."

But whatever Pinky said next in response to this she didn't catch, for she had just discovered his notepad, and of the number of colorful stickers coating it, one in particular stood out to her. She gasped again.

"Is that a radish rose whatchamawhoozit?!"

Pinky was caught off guard. He stopped mid-sentence, stared at her, and slammed his hands down on the table, making her jump.

"You know what a radish rose whatchamawhoozit is?!"

"Look!" Olivia said, sweeping off her tammie, the better to see her fluffy ears. Hanging from each ear was a small earring, both shaped like radish rose whatchamawhoozits. "My mum used to use them for parties! I always liked them."

Pinky went wide-eyed.

"My mum did, too! You know... you're the first mouse I've met who knows what that is."

"I'm surprised most people don't know what that is!" Olivia giggled.

"Me too!" Pinky chuckled back, eyes a little misty.

For a moment they just stood there, smiling at one another, two radish rose whatchamawhoozit buddies meeting for the first time. There was something very comforting about it.

The slow tick, tick, tick of a wall clock nearby brought Olivia back to Earth, and she stepped back shyly.

"I... probably should go," she said, smiling. "She's probably waiting for me."

Pinky's face fell.

"We-.. uhh... would you like to stay for just a minute longer?"

"Sorry, but I really do have to go," replied Olivia regretfully, looking very much as if she didn't want to.

"Umm... what else do you like to do that's... not watching tv?"

"Well... umm... I do like to sing."

Pinky beamed, dug in his box, and pulled out a microphone attached to a small radio-looking device.

"Do you like karaoke?"

Olivia beamed.

Several doors down and one wall over, Globetrotter had everyone in a stupor. Gadget could barely keep her eyes open, one of the boys had taken to drawing circles over and over again in his notebook, and Maisy's brother was actually snoring. Perhaps Globetrotter would have cared if he hadn't been so engrossed in the exciting subject of Meoisis, one hand clasped firmly around a nearly-drained cup of coffee, the other brandishing a thick ruler at the blackboard behind him.

"The initial metaphase takes place when the homologous pairs travel along the metaphase plate. Kinetochore microtubles from the spindle poles attach to the-"

He stopped. His ears twitched. Some of the students lifted their heads, shifting in their seats. A distant sound of singing could be heard, just beyond the wall. Globetrotter frowned.

"Um. The microtubles attach directly to-"

It was soft at first, then it grew - louder, louder, louder. Pinky and Olivia's singing had escalated from a light hum to a crescendo and climbed all the way to the top in a full on opera. The student with the journal counted down on his fingers to his friend: three, two, one...

SNAP!

Right on cue, Globetrotter applied so much anger... or... pressure, rather, to his ruler that it snapped clean in half. Journal boy made a mark in his book: t'was the fourth one snapped this semester, apparently.

For the second time that morning, Globetrotter stomped out of his classroom, although this time he was followed, not by one student, not by two, but almost the entire class, albeit tepidly. Although he probably wouldn't notice them, considering the state he was in, caution was still advised... at least to a degree. Ronald Pinkus was in for it big time and they couldn't afford to miss this. They'd heard the rumors: that when Mr. B. got this flustered he'd actually physically vibrate, lose all mastery of the English language, and sometimes even spout intense poetry at the accuser. It was one of the only exciting things that happened in his classes and they sure as heck weren't going to pass up the opportunity when it presented itself.

Science room three-nineteen's teacher had barely managed four steps out the door, however, when he was approached by a tall lady mouse in a green dress. All the students moved back a pace, retreating into the classroom.

"Ah! Mr. Globetrotter. I was just coming to remind you that the teacher's conference is this weekend at 5:00 PM."

"Yes, Ms. Weatherby. I'll be there," he scratched, barely containing himself.

Ms. Weatherby stepped away, not the least bit perturbed, whether due to pure naivety or a lack of concern none could tell.

She was barely two feet away when Globetrotter continued his trek, down the hall and around a corner. His students followed at a careful pace. He'd just turned the corner when a boy vole with glasses knocked into him, his homework flying everywhere.

"M-Mr. B! I-I mean, Mr. Globetrotter!" he stammered, shaking from head to tail.

"What is it?!" Globetrotter growled, impatience growing by the millisecond.

"I-I-I just wanted to ask about the upcoming assignment. Is there any way I could turn mine in just... a day late? M-My mother is sick in the hospital, you see, and-"

But he was abruptly cut off as Globetrotter shoved him aside with a sharp, "NO!" to boot.

"O-Or I can just turn it in on time then! N-No biggie! Eheh...!" the vole stuttered, clutching the few remaining papers to his chest ever so tightly and quickly picking up the rest before running off. He jumped as he almost ran into Globetrotter's entire class. Gadget reached out a hand towards him, as if to apologize on Globetrotter's behalf, but Maisy stilled her with a shake of the head and a clutch of the paw. They tip-toed on.

Globetrotter was almost at door two-ten when plump Mrs. Judson came flying down the hallway.

"Globetrotter! Don't you even think about touching that door!"

The little mouse grumbled.

"I have EVERY RIGHT to open that door!" he shouted, already trembling. A couple of the boys in the crowd started bouncing up and down excitedly. This was just getting better and better. They might actually get a full show!

"You don't know what that poor boy's been through. He might be a complete boob, but you leave him alone! Let me talk to him," Mrs. Judson spouted, paws on her hips as she went face-to-face with Globetrotter.

"Mrs. Judson," Globetrotter replied, full on vibrating now, "If you don't get out of my way, I swear I'll report you to the principle for unlawful involvement in a teacher's affairs!"

"Hmph! 'Unlawful involvement.' There's no such thing."

"Oh, isn't there? I can MAKE it a thing! And," he added, voice low and threatening, "I'll tell them about Marley."

Mrs. Judson went wide-eyed.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would," Globetrotter seethed.

With brows furrowed and lips tense, she turned in a flourish and marched off, shooting his class a harsh glare as she rounded a corner, shaking her head at them.

"You watch your step," she hissed.

Some of them exchanged worried glances. It was incredible Globetrotter hadn't even noticed the crowd following him; so enslaved by anger was he. It was almost impressive. The entire group collectively held their breath as their teacher, fuming, flung open the door.

"WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU-"

But at this, he stopped, for what met Globetrotter's eyes rendered him speechless.

"Aaaaaaand wwwwwwwelcome to the show!"

The room was unrecognizable. A sparkling blue floor complemented an equally sparkling purple stadium decorated with red velvet curtains, all so dazzling that Globetrotter had to rub at his eyes to stop himself from going blind. The entire place looked like a game show one might see on tv - Wheel of Fortune or Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Energetic, happy-go-lucky music blared on a little radio in a corner, completing the effect, and a seemingly disembodied voice, all flamboyant and hospitable, dominated the scene.

"Come on in! Take a seat!" remarked the voice, which turned out to be Pinky's as he scooted Globetrotter into the room and onto a chair right next to Olivia, who waved at him.

"That's my new teacher!" she whispered excitedly to him, pointing at Pinky, who was fully decked out in a purple suit and bow tie. Globetrotter sputtered.

"Now, h-h-hold on! I need to tell you-"

"Why, yes. You do need to tell me your name, good Sir!" interrupted Pinky, holding up a microphone right in front of Globetrotter's face. "And you are?"

"I... ma... puh... G-Globetrotter, b-but that-"

"Ladies and gentleman, give it up for GLOOOOOOBETROTTER!"

An invisible crowd cheered. Olivia clapped.

"And your name, young lady?"

"Olivia!"

"OLIVIA!"

More clapping.

By this time, all of Globetrotter's class was pressed up against two-ten's door, eagerly peering in at the activity with wide, bugged out eyes.

"Now, folks, you know we just completed the singing competition, with an outstanding performance by little miss Olivia."

The invisible crowd cheered again, and Olivia blushed.

"But now it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for! Drum-roll, please," requested Pinky, and right on cue... there came a thundering drum-roll.

The entire class was now shuffling into the room, taking spots at the back that had actually been set up for a proper crowd. They filled every seat.

"TUUUUUURBULENT TRIVIAAAAAAA!"

Clapping and cheering from the invisible crowd on... the radio? another dimension? ... was now mixed in with actual applause from Globetrotter's class. He turned to stare at them, flabbergasted. He had an actual audience?! How embarrassing...

Two pedestals, each with a big red button in their centers, rose up out of the floor to rest in front of Globetrotter and Olivia.

"Now, you all know the rules!" Pinky continued, gesturing to a giant board behind him that was laden with a plethora of different topics. "Our contestant with the most points picks a topic, and both try to answer it! Whoever gets the most points at the end of the show wins!"

And he jumped up and down at this, Olivia mirroring him as she bounced around in her seat. Globetrotter was silent. He wouldn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Every time he opened his mouth to voice his complaints, no sound came out, as if he was so caught off guard by the affair that he simply didn't know how to react. And rightly so. He simply had no words for this.

"Olivia! You're up first, my dear, so pick a subject!"

Olivia stood up in her seat, thought for a moment, then pointed at one of the topics.

"Ummm... I pick... Science!"

"Science it is! And heeeeeere's your question!"

And the little box marked 'SCIENCE' flipped over to reveal a small paragraph, which Pinky read out:

The first known telescope was submitted as a patent to the Netherlands government in 1609 by which spectacle maker?

Someone slammed down on their red button.

"Yeeeeeeeeeees?" Pinky questioned, sporting a wide, toothy grin.

Surprisingly, it was Globetrotter who answered. He actually was standing up out of his seat, looking mad as a hare.

"That's preposterous! It was patented in 1608, not '09, and the answer is Hans Lippershey!"

"CORRECT!"

Ding ding ding ding ding! went Globetrotter's big red button, as it flashed on and off a luminous green color. He sat down almost shyly in his seat, as if surprised he'd found himself out of it, as his entire class clapped and cheered. He turned to look at them with an expression of absolute surprise.

"Congratulations! You've just earned ten points! But Olivia is still in the lead with thirty. What's your next topic, Olivia?" Pinky asked, an open hand gesturing to the board.

"Ummmm... music!" she piped.

"You got it!" Pinky exclaimed, as the next little box labeled 'MUSIC' flipped over. Once again, Pinky read aloud:

Who composed this famous piece?

And a deep, booming tune played loud and clear throughout the room. Olivia slammed down on her button.

"Go ahead, Olivia!"

"Mozart!" she shouted out, but...

EHNG!

Wrong!

"Ohhhh. I'm so sorry, Olivia! But it's not Mozart! Do we have any other takers? Anyone?"

Globetrotter's button rang again, albeit with a bit more hesitance this time.

"Globetrotter!" Pinky shouted.

"That's obviously Beethoven," Globetrotter muttered, arms crossed indignantly.

"CORRECT!"

Ding ding ding ding ding! rang the little button again as ten more points went up on Globetrotter's side of the scoreboard. The crowd went wild. Some of his students had actually gotten popcorn from... somewhere, and looked as though they were having the time of their lives.

"Go, Mr. B!" some shouted out, and, "Trotter! Trotter!" others cheered. "You can do it!" one gal said. Globetrotter's ears perked up a touch. They were actually... supporting him?

"Oooooo. Globetrotter's giving you a run for your money, Olivia! Better pick a good one!" Pinky egged on.

"Hmm. I piiiiiiiick... mathematics!" she shouted, standing in her seat, two pink paws set firmly on the pedestal in front of her.

"Let's see that math question!" rolled Pinky, pointing at a box with 'MATH' written on it in big, bold letters, and reading out:

The square root of 6,428 is...

Before Pinky could even list out the options, Globetrotter's red button was punched.

"80.1748090113!"

"CORRECT!" Pinky yelled, and the crowd exploded. He was now tied with Olivia!

Globetrotter actually went slightly pink in the face as his class whooped and hollered and cheered him on. He almost dared to smile a little. This was... actually... kinda fun...?

"Aaaaaaand now! For the FINAL question! This one... is a TIE BREAKER," Pinky exclaimed dramatically. At this, all the lights dimmed at once, with spotlights thrown on Globetrotter and Olivia only. "Since you both have thirty points each, I'll be picking the question," Pinky continued. "Whoever gets this one right... is the ultimate winner."

The music boomed just as dramatically. Globetrotter actually swallowed thickly. The crowd went silent.

"Here... is your final question, in 'Entertainment'," said Pinky, and he read out:

Which character in The Honeymooners was known for his catchphrase, "Bang, zoom, right to the moon!"

Globetrotter began to sweat, not because he was oblivious, even though it was common knowledge that he rarely watched tv, but because he was embarrassed that he knew the answer. He had to answer, though. Surely, the kid wouldn't know. Would she...? And yet...

SLAM! went Olivia's paw onto bright red button. No way.

"Olivia?" Pinky asked, all ears.

"Mary Poppins!" she rang out.

ENGH! went her button.

"Ohhhhhh. I'm sorry, but that's not the right answer! Globetrotter?"

He was sweating all the more now. He'd surely be teased forever for this, but he couldn't not answer a question he knew the response to...

"Globetrotter? Ten seconds!" Pinky countered.

"Come on, Trotter!" one of his students shouted.

"Yeah, you can do it, Mr. B! Come on!"

And more shouts... and more... and more built up, until finally...

SLAM! went Globetrotter's paw on the big red button.

"Yeeeeeeeeees?" asked Pinky.

"R-Ralph Kramden!" Globetrotter shouted out, eyes tightly closed.

A pause. And then...

"CORRECT! GLOBETROTTER WINS!"

The din was deafening. Balloons and confetti actually fell from the sky as the lights went up all around Globetrotter, Olivia, Pinky, and the entire class as triumphant music was played. Olivia was jumping up and down, actually hugging Globetrotter, not at all perturbed that she'd lost, as the crowd poured out from their seats to congratulate their teacher. Globetrotter was completely stiff. How the heck was he supposed to react to this?

"Congraaaaaaaatulations, Globetrotter! Let's see what you've won!"

There were no show girls, so Pinky himself had to run off-set, grab a selection of items, and fly back onto the stage in front of Globetrotter.

"You win: an orange juicerator, a block of Worcestershire cheese, and a week's supply of paperclips!"

All these he dumped into Globetrotter's hands. Everyone clapped and cheered, and the celebration might have gone on forever had the bell not rung.

"Oh! That's the bell! Time to go, everyone!" Pinky directed, and they all filed out of the classroom, Globetrotter and all, Pinky bringing up the rear. He was still in his purple outfit. "Everybody go on to your next class! Go on! Thanks for playing!" he said, spending an extra second or two to thank Olivia for being such a good sport and handing her a bag of chips. She beamed, thanked him, and skipped off, crunching on them happily. Globetrotter remained, the only participant who hadn't quite taken it all in.

"What... just happened?" he asked, turning to stare at Pinky, his bulky prizes still clasped in his arms.

"You'd better get back to your room, Brain! Your next class is about to start!" was all that Pinky said as he gently pushed him forward, ducked back into his classroom, and shut the door behind him.

Globetrotter just stood there for a moment, staring at door two-ten, before looking down at the batch of prizes he was still holding. Without a word, he slowly, almost drunkenly, meandered back to his classroom. With some difficulty, he opened the door, set down his newfound possessions upon his desk, and breathed in and out, slowly, deeply...

What... had just happened? Never in his life had he ever experience anything like that, not in this school, not in public, not... anywhere, for that matter. It was a time-waster. It was ridiculous. It was... fun? He hated to admit that to himself: that somewhere, deep down, he'd managed to enjoy something so asinine. And yet...

He took a minute to go through each of the "prizes". An orange... juicerator, it was called? It was a portly thing, about half the length of his forearm, and sporting a curved spout that looked a bit like a faucet. How pointless. Unlikely he'd ever find a use for such an item. He'd never even heard of the thing until now. He tossed it in an unused drawer. The second was a block of Worcestershire cheese. That wasn't... all bad. He quite liked this type. In fact, it was his favorite. How did that bumbling idiot know that? Last of all was the "week's supply of paperclips". Handy, he supposed. Nothing wrong with some extra tools for one's classroom. These he put in a top drawer that was visited much more frequently.

He sighed again and stuck his hands in his back pockets. Something crinkled against his right paw... Huh?

He pulled out a note.

Thanks for playing with us! You have a lovely smile. - Pinky

Globetrotter blinked, taken aback, and was caught off guard at a sharp knock on his door. He tossed the note in the trash.

"C-Come in!" he stammered.

It was two of his students: journal boy and his friend.

"Sorry, Mr. B! We forgot our backpacks!" journal boy said, as the two mice ran to grab their packs. But as they headed back towards the door, they stopped. "By the way, um... congratulations, Mr. B!"

"Yeah, that was awesome!" his friend exclaimed.

And with that, they exited the room, closing the door behind them.

Globetrotter stood rooted to the spot. He'd surely die from all these positive comments. Never had he received so many before; at least, not under this roof. He peered into the trash can, paused a moment, then extracted the little note from it. He read it again:

Thanks for playing with us! You have a lovely smile. - Pinky

He settled on those last words again, for they stuck out to him.

You have a lovely smile.

And for a moment, though no one could see him, though no one was watching, he held the little note close to his chest, closed his eyes... and smiled.

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

Author's Notes:

- Ferrum is the Latin term for Iron (Fe), which is sometimes found in paperclips.

- The nickname "Mr. B." is actually an obscure reference to another fandom I'm in. If you want the full story, message me. Heh.

- Globetrotter's reaction to Gadget being late was inspired by a friend's story in which one of her actual teachers would respond in a similarly harsh fashion to late students.

- Yes, Olivia's radish earrings are absolutely a reference to Luna Lovegood's equally unusual earrings.

- All of the information about meiosis I got directly from Wikipedia.

- The game show part of this story was my favorite part to write. Originally, I was going to have the whole thing be a lot more low-key, but this is technically a cartoon world, after all, so I figured... why not go all out?

- I finished this at 1:35 AM last night, two days after a surgery and while in pain. I have no regrets.

#pinky and the brain #fan fiction #syncytium

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gloves94 · 4 years ago

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 4

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Bully!Draco

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

1 9 9 1, September 1st

Harry and Nel talked a little about Hogwarts, their owls, the magic world and what not. After dinner Nel suggested that they venture out into the alley and go and get some ice cream. Being so late and not wanting to oversleep in the morning Harry persuaded her to stay by offering to share a pumpkin pastry with her. She was never one to complain when it came to food, so she accepted.

The next morning both overslept and left in a hurry. Because they overslept, they didn't have breakfast, instead Nel used her paid breakfast to buy some lemon biscuits to go for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts. Both went dressed in their Muggle clothes packed their heavy trunks and made way to King's Cross taking the tube. It must've been odd for Muggles to see them both. Two eleven-year old's alone carrying two large trunks and their caged owls. On the way Nel offered her seat to a pregnant lady who turned out not to be expecting a child and was very upset by her comment. Harry couldn't tell if she had done it on purpose to irritate the woman or not.

They arrived to Platform 9 but there seemed no sight of the 3/4. Nel still looked around anxiously worrying that this whole thing was some type of extremely elaborate prank. She was still waiting for Ms. Wool to pop up and claim her vengeance for the many evils the girl had done to her in the past.

"It should be here," Nel said looking down at her ticket.

Both found themselves lost and attracting the unwanted peering eyes of Muggles. The owls were growing irritating hooting loudly in protest of being inside of their cages.

"What do we do?" Harry asked feeling lost.

"Train leaves in ten minutes," Nel clicked her tongue and looked at a large overheard clock nearby beginning to feel somewhat stressed.

"-packed with Muggles, same every year-"

Both whipped their heads around. Muggles. That was only a word that wizards and witches knew. They had to be magical. Probably heading to the same place.

They spotted and decided to follow a plump woman with wavy red hair and her four children with the same matching colorful hair around King's Cross. All carrying trunks, one had an owl balance on top of his trunk. Yeah. They were definitely going to the same place.

"You're not old enough Ginny, hush," the mother scolded one of her children. "Now, Percy, you first."

The boy who seemed to be the oldest took his cart and lined up with the divider between the two platforms. The two eleven-year old's watched the boy attentively as he pushed his cart forwards briskly.

"He's going to crash!" Nel shouted with her big mouth attracting the attention of Muggles and Non-Muggles nearby.

She was in shock when he instead seemed to magically phase through the wall.

"First time?" The plump woman turned to look at the two children with a soft expression. She guessed they were both probably Muggle-born children. "We don't know how to get to the train," Harry said to her. Not being one to ever ask for help and much less from an adult Nel kept her ears peered waiting for instruction.

She placed a hand on both of the children's arms and kindly turned them towards the wall where one of her kids had just vanished.

"Walk straight at the wall between the platforms. Don't stop, and don't be nervous, or you'll crash, that's key. Best do it at a bit of a run, if you're nervous. Watch Fred," she said addressing one of her twins.

The boy scowled. "I'm not Fred, I'm George! Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother!"

The woman looked flustered. "Sorry George." She waved him forwards dismissively.

The boy grinned cheekily. "Only joking, I am Fred."

His mother scowled, aiming a swat at his shoulder when he passed. His twin yelled at him to hurry up, and the next moment, George was gone too. "Go on," She ushered both of the children forward with care. "Before Ron," she said signaling to yet another one of her red-head children whom the others gathered to be Ron.

Harry stepped back allowing Nel to go ahead. Part of her mistrusting nature suspected that he wanted to see if she would slam towards the wall or not. Regardless she nodded and took in a deep breath, gripping her cart tight. She ran towards it elbowing a Muggle on the way. She braced herself for impact wincing at the expected pain. Instead she phased through the wall just like that woman's other children also had. Glancing back over her shoulder Nel could only see a wall. Yet ahead of her- This world was never going to cease to amaze her. Before her on the platform stood a regal scarlet colored engine train that was generously puffing out heaps of white vapor steam. She gaped at it in awe face breaking into a broad grin. It was then that she spotted a spot of white from the distance.

It was that same rude boy she had meet at the bookstore. His parents were bidding him goodbye as he got ready to board onto the train.

"Oi!" She said quickly approaching him blocking his path and forgetting all about Harry or the red heads. She stood on his way hauling her trunk and owl behind. "It's you," she glared at him.

"What do you want orphan?"

Really? That was the best insult he could come up with. How unoriginal. Even Aisha could probably come up with something better. She scoffed at his petty insult.

"About that-" She began starring him down. "Don't tell anyone… about - well, about my family. Please?" Her expression softened a bit.

"Embarrassed?" He taunted with no shame.

"Never," She narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening once again. It wasn't a complete lie. "Not that you'd understand, but I don't want to be known as the orphan girl in a new school. Know what I mean?" She attempted to get him to emphasize just a little.

"And why should I do as you say?" He shot back boarding the train challenging her. "After all, you're just a filthy little mudblood," He spat the vile world.

Nel had never heard such a slur. She had no idea what it meant. She brushed it off her thick skin with no concern having been called worse by others. She didn't have a single good reason why he should listen to her besides the one she had just given him. If he wasn't going to be reasonable, she left him no choice. She left him no choice. "Because if you don't - I'll make you regret it," she threatened.

He looked at her for a moment before laughing loudly in her face and retreating inside of the train.

She glared at him. He made her feel that same way Alf and those other bratty kids that were in her life made her feel. Powerless. And that word she had called her. Mudblood. She didn't know why it left such a filthy taste in her mouth.

Climbing in the train fuming. She carefully plotted her revenge. She kept a careful eye on the back of his gelled head as he entered a compartment. Nel looked for a place of her own and went inside of the first compartment she could find where three girls and a boy were sitting. Two of the girls were twins and introduced themselves as Padme and Parvati Patel. The other girl had large bushy hair and stuck out her hand formally introducing herself as Hermione Granger and lastly the boy she was to sit next to was dorky looking his name was Neville Longbottom. He was holding a large ugly toad in his hands and looked as if he wouldn't last a minute at Wool's. They made idle talk before the train began to move. The students in the compartment stood up and were pressed up against the glass waving their goodbyes to their families excitedly.

It was then that the lightbulb went off in her head. An evil smile carved her features as she snuck out of the compartment without another word.

It took her a minute to assemble the tools she would need to make her plan a complete success. Being most resourceful she had to improvise but it would work.

Nel walked a tea trolley down the corridor. The porcelain teacups and pot clinked as she advances. She discretely peered inside the windows of the several compartments looking for that shiny white head savoring the beginning of her petty vengeance.

It was then that she spotted him. He sat on a compartment with two hulking gorillas like looking boys who were laughing at something he said. A scowling girl with shoulder length black hair sat across from him. Nel walked inside unannounced without knocking and stuck in the trolley car. She had tried her best to set up the elaborate display of lemon biscuits she had gotten for her lunch as well as the simple tea party.

It seemed convincing enough.

"Lovely day, ain't it? Lads and lady," she addressed in the most cordial tone she could muster her dark eyes zeroing in on the blonde boy. The edge of his lips curved up in a vile smirk.

"This is the girl I was telling you all about," he said bitterly. "A mudblood orphan," he spat in a tone that seemed to suggest great disgust at her lesser status. There it was. That filthy word again. "And now it seems like she's the help!"

The girl before him laughed obnoxiously loud, the other two boys simply sniggered at his comment.

Alright, you lot of pricks. Nel was even more certain now that she had to do this. They were all officially going on her shit list. She would greatly enjoy what she was about to do.

"Haven't you ever heard of the student service club?" She arched an eyebrow and spoke in the most convincing matter of fact tone she could manage. "If you volunteer you get extra points. We run the Hospitality Trolley. It always passes by right as the train leaves. Everybodyknows that."

"Like house points?" The girl asked sounding terribly confused.

Nel had no idea what house points were. She meant like bonus points to a grade point average, but this could work. "Something like that," she shrugged casually and began pouring the tea into five of the teacups on the trolley.

"That's ridiculous," The blonde scoffed suspiciously. "We haven't even been assigned out houses."

"They count towards it. It's magic," she reasoned in a most convincing argument. "Cheers," She said lifting up the teacup and brining to her lips. Hesitantly at first, they followed suit each grabbing one of the lemon biscuits on the table.

"This tea is cold," The black-haired girl looked at the tea cup she was holding with degust. The water was tinted a yellowish shade of green.

"That's because its Norwegian tea," Nel lied through her teeth sounding as snobbish as possible. She couldn't even point out where Norway was in a map, but as long as she sounded convincing enough that would do the trick.

It was then that the four brought the teacups to their lips. "Why does it taste funny?" The round-faced boy asked grimacing at the taste of the cold tea.

"This is the most god-awful tea I've ever had!" The blonde said with his nose scrunched up in great disgust.

"It takes a while for your pallet to accustom to it. It's a very sophisticated taste," she tried her best not to laugh as she attempted to sound as snobbish as some of the people in cooking shows did.

"Disgusting. You said this was Norwegian?" The girl gagged sticking out her tongue.

She couldn't help it. A squeak escaped Nel's lips. She laughed a little. "You'd say it tastes kind of swampy right?" She said holding on to her tea cup yet not drinking it.

It was then that the four other students realized. They went mute for a second and a loud croak shattered the silence in the compartment. Their wide eyes all zoomed into the porcelain tea pot. Whatever was inside croaked once again before leaping out of the pot escaping. The blonde dropped the teacup making it shatter on the floor. He gagged reaching for his throat dramatically acting as if he'd been poisoned. The girl that was sitting across from him did the same and instead sprayed out a fountain of toad tea which wet the blonde boy in front of her. She looked horrified, turning a bright shade of scarlet. The other boys looked nauseous as if they were going to be sick.

Nel lost her cool bursting out in a loud laugh before running out of the room. She wasn't going to stick and find out just what they had planned for her. Her feet loudly stomped down the corridor as she successfully evaded capture. Thankfully the service cart being inside of the compartment slowed them down in their chase.

She ran inside of a compartment and pressed up against the blind spot next to the door's window heaving, her heart racing from the excitement of the chase. Turning to face the people in the compartment she noticed Harry and that red-headed boy they had met earlier. What was his name again, Ron?

"Oh, there you are Harry," she said in a casual airy tone.

She could hear the footsteps of those other kids stomping down the hallway as they looked for her.

"What did you do?" Harry asked with a shocked expression.

It was then that the compartment door slid open. Nel pressed so hard against the wall behind her she could've morphed into it. The girl that had been in the compartment with them stuck her head in and asked if they had seen the culprit. Both Ron and Harry's eyes glued themselves to the culprit who was holding a finger to her lips pleading for both of them to be silent.

The girl left fuming. Laughing loudly Nel plopped down on a seat next to Harry.

"What did you do?" He repeated.

"Somebody pissed me off. So, I went out of my way to make their day," she laughed evilly. "Who?" Asked Ron curious.

"Dunno," Nel shrugged without mind. It was then that she stretched out her hand across the compartment to Ron. "Nel Saintday," she smiled brightly. "Pleasure."

Ron's rat squeaked. The children looked down to see a fat, gray rat which was sitting on Ron's lap. "Mind Scabbers, he doesn't do anything and is practically useless. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink in embarrassment.

Harry shrugged. "The Dursleys never gave me a proper present either." Harry smiled. "Same," Nel said sincerely. "Best gift I ever got was an ash tray, and I don't even smoke," she snorted jokingly making both Harry and Ron laugh.

Ron smiled feeling better already.

Moments later a woman complaining someone had stolen one of the trolleys from the front walked in making the girl turn red as she attempted to stiffen her laughter. The woman brought in a trolley filled with a lot full of candy which made the mouth of the children water. Suddenly the girl was regretting giving her lemon biscuits to those toad tea pricks. Ron and Nel would've never said it but both looked at the candy with longing. To their surprise Harry bought the whole thing.

Nel ate so much candy and without shame she felt like she had grown a second stomach. Ron was the same. Even Ron's rat seemed to eat. "He'd have died, and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said looking at his rat with disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but it didn't work. Look..." He drew out a battered wand, the unicorn hair poking out of one end. "Anyway-" It was then that the compartment opened. Nel flinched getting ready to bounce behind the wall when she assumed it was one of those boys, she had made to drink the toad tea. It was instead the girl with frizzy curly hair from her compartment. She stepped in. "Ah, there you are Elowen. We were wondering where you went off to," she paused for a moment. "Has anyone seen a toad?" she didn't ask. She demanded to know. "A boy Neville's lost his."

Nel smirked and sniggered slightly. Both Ron and Harry looked at her perplexed before shaking their heads.

Ron continued to practice his spell at a poor attempt to make his wand turn Scabbers yellow which was a major fail. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" She said in a know-it-all tone. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She spoke so fast that it made Nel's head spin. "Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled.

"Harry Potter." Her eyes widened with interest at Harry's name. For a moment Nel forgot that Harry Potter was a celebrity in the Wizarding World. Hermione rambled about Harry's accomplishments and bragged about all the books she had read. "Do you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, I better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon. Your trunk is still in our compartment Elowen."

With that she left. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron said irritably. He tossed his wand aside annoyed that his spell failed. "Fred and George gave it to me; should have known it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked curiously.

"Gryffindor, Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." He wrinkled his nose.

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat. "What's wrong with Slytherin?" Nel asked. Not mentioning that she had met the head of said house the day before.

"There hasn't' been a single wizard that's gone to Slytherin that isn't a complete git!" Ron said bitterly. It sounded almost personal to him. "Hagrid said they have a reputation, that they've all 'gone bad.'" Harry explained.

Nel gave her house sorting some thought. She wasn't a bad person. She shrugged a little, whatever house she was in it for sure would not be that one. She felt she was too good for it.

Moments later the door opens again. By this point Nel had lowered her guard and had forgotten all about the frog tea she had made those kids drink.

It wasn't the sweets lady or the Granger girl this time. It was that blonde boy she had met at the bookstore. The two boys that resembled his own personal bodyguards standing closely behind. One of them cracking his knuckles ready to pummel her.

Uh-Oh.

"You," He growled out dangerously glaring at the girl.

He was about to say something horrible to her when he noticed the scarred boy that was sitting next to her.

"So, it's true. They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, it's true? It's you, then?"

Harry starred at the three boys at the entrance. The boy flickered his hand at the boys behind him and absently introduced them. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ah, so that was his name. Ron gave a slight cough, not quite disguising his snicker. Malfoy stared down his nose at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He looked at Harry. "You'll soon find out that some families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." He looked at Ron and Nel with disgust. "I can help you there." Ron looked down in embarrassment. Nel leaned back on her seat with an irritated look on her face as she glared at Malfoy crossing her arms over her chest. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry said cooly making the girl sitting next to him smirk in approval of his response. "Oooh," she laughed at the comment.

"Think that's funny?" He glowered at the girl his ears turning pink from the embarrassment. "I'd be careful if I were you," he warned Harry slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around riffraff like the Weasleys, Hagrid and this one here long enough, it'll rub off on you."

Ron and Harry leapt to their feet ready to fight.

"Say that again!" Ron demanded, going as red as his hair. "Oh, are you going to fight us now?" Malfoy sneered.

"If you don't get out now," Harry said boldly.

"Hardly seems fair," Nel stood up with a cocky smirk standing between the two parties. "Three against three? Do you not know how to count?" Malfoy sneered.

She could've sworn she saw one of the boys behind her raise his fingers and begin counting.

"Yeah," She huffed. "But they have me."

One thing Malfoy had underestimated was that you should never cross someone from the streets. Specially if they have nothing to lose. In that moment Nel felt she could've belonged with Nico Shafer's gang of troublemakers. Scrunching her face, she stepped forward and shoved Malfoy as hard as he could making him topple backwards between his friends who also stumbled back barely catching him before falling on his bum. The three staggering out of the compartment.

"Stay away and keep your gorillas away from me Malfoy! Unless you want to find something uglier than a toad next time, you're enjoying a cup of tea!"

He looked aghast at the fact that somebody had actually dared to lay a hand on him. "My father will be hearing about this!" He exclaimed. She rolled her eyes at him. His threat going in through one ear and exiting through the other. With that she slammed the door on their faces and turned around triumphantly.

"You better watch your back Saintday!" Draco leaned in and hissed at her through the window. In response Nel smiled smugly and lowered the blind so she didn't have to look at his pointy face. She heard them retreat with frustrated footsteps.

Harry and Ron starred at her with their eyes wide, mouths ajar in awe. "Some people just can't handle the tea," she smirked.

"Wait- that's who pissed you off?" Harry asked.

"What did you do to him?" Ron asked with his eyes wide.

"You know how that boy’s toad is missing?" She smiled wickedly before telling the boys of the success of her vile prank.

Ron was laughing so hard he was holding onto his stomach. It almost looked like he was about to cry. "That's bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed falling back on his seat with a broad grin on his face. It was almost as good as the type of prank his twin brothers would've pulled maybe even better. "Should've seen the look on his face. He could've just died! It was toad-atally awesome," she laughed obnoxiously.

That same night. The students arrived to Hogwarts for the first time. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and one of the twins that was in the compartment where Nel had left her trunk were all sorted into Gryffindor. The other twin went to Ravenclaw.

Nel was one of the last ones to be sorted.

The hat didn't even give her a second to participate in the decision-making process. Quickly defining the next seven years and probably the rest of her life.

xxxxx

STARRING THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES with ELLE FANNING as DAPHNE GREENGRASS HARRY STYLES as THEODORE NOTT and AMANDLA STENBERG as TRACEY DAVIS

Xxxxx

AN: What House do you think Nel will be sorted into?

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capsized-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Warbirds

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Summary: Ships and planes and weapons of war named after women and dubbed she, her. Powerful, deadly. Yet, the real thing, the real body is demeaned and made less than man. When you and Carol are up in the sky and screaming through the air in your metal birds, they will see just how fragile you are.

Following Carol and Reader throughout their training in the Air Force.

Word count: 4.6k+

Warnings: smut, mild violence

A/N: It feels so good to post again! I’m so sorry I haven’t written anything in a bit, my finals this semester have been c r a z y, I’ve written 20 pages worth of papers and I still have one more left before I’m fully on winter break :’) but almost there!

I’ve had this idea for a while and....I honestly had too much fun with this. I did a lot of research and watched some documentaries on what trainees experience through basic training and I find military uniforms more attractive than I should so I didn’t hold back on this one.

Please enjoy my girl Carol!!!

“Wake up! Wake up! Open that day room door! Lights on! PT uniform of the day, PT shorts and shirt!”

The piercing voice of Dorm Chief Williams shatters the air. Fluorescent white blinds you, pulse thundering as you’re jerked from sleep, kicking off your covers. Your muscles scream, vision blurred and swimming and you stagger to your feet.

Cadets around you are already making their beds and changing into their gear. You reach for your own combat uniform, pull on the deep navy tracksuit with the reflective insignia of the U.S. Air Force glowing over your left breast.

You turn and see your bunkmate starting to stir. You feel your heart hammer in your throat and push at her shoulder.

“Carol. Get up. Hey, let’s go, Warbird.”

Williams, a tall and intimidating woman personifying dread itself, marches over to your bunk.

“Danvers, am I keeping you from your beauty sleep?” Williams barks with the most intensity you’ve ever heard from her at 0600. “Should I call the canteen and have them bring you breakfast since you’re so busy slowing down my whole squadron?”

Carol jolts to attention. “No, ma’am!”

“Then get the hell away from me and into gear. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Williams scowls, watching Carol fly to her post to dress before she turns on her heel and makes her rounds through the rest of the dorm. Finished with your own tasks, you help with Carol’s bed, smooth out her uniform, secure her hair in a tight bun. She gives you a tired smile.

“Fall out!” Williams calls.

You’re out the door in a minute flat. The short, sharp blasts of Reveille drive motion around you as you fall in line with the male recruits.

The morning is brisk, stimulating, turning your breath into puffs of steam as sweeps of indigo crack open the sky like the pearly, iridescent insides of seashells. It’s pretty, the color reminding you of waves and ocean.

Maybe you should have joined the Navy instead, Carol would say, a quick quip about how you would make such a charming sailor girl bobbing away on a ship. She always likes to tease you for your love of beautiful, superficial things.

From the moment you shed your civilian status, the Academy taught you to appreciate the little things in life; the glow of morning that tints the clouds with amber and cream as you watch the world from your cockpit. Chirping birdsong, a sort of secret you like to think that exists only between birds and Airmen, the few humans capable of sharing the sky.

You loathe how much Carol affects you, since day zero, the very start of BMT. How you can hear her voice in your mind this goddamn early.

Your MTI picks up a cadence and you match your step to the young men and women beside you, your wingmen. You feel unity, harmony beating through your bloodstream as you jog in time with your sergeant’s calls, the crisp air making you feel well rested and energized despite getting your usual four hours of sleep.

Moments like these that give you purpose, the indescribable excitement of being a part of something bigger than yourself. Of belonging.

“Lookin’ good and feelin’ good! Who are we?” Your drill instructor booms.

“USAF! Aim high! Fly, fight, win!” The squadron sounds off in unison.

You’re three weeks into BMT. Twenty-one days of primal shock, verbal abuse, blood, sweat, tears. Four weeks, twenty-eight more days until you graduate from the ranks of cadet, four weeks until your MTI awards you your dog tags and the title of Airman. The start of your career as a fighter pilot.

But until then, you’ll have to survive the next twenty-eight days.

You’ve learned more about yourself in these three weeks than you have in your entire life, your mind and body hardened with discipline. Broken down psychologically and physically and molded into the young woman your squadron needs you to be.

You and Carol are reminded of your womanhood every day. You and the others have to push yourselves harder, faster just to prove you can keep up. O’Neill, a petite little firecracker of a girl and fresh out of school, had gotten her period last week. You’d watched her wretch up bile after morning drill, the exertion and stress and cramps too much for her body to handle. The MTI had screamed at her, blue in the face, ordered her to drop on her stomach right there and crank fifteen pushups.

You cannot separate your femininity from your body, even in a military unit that declares that all are treated equal as soldiers. You are not an equal by default.

It’s belittling. Exhausting.

But you’ve shown that you can hold your own against the boys. You’ve learned how to shoot clean and fight with your bare hands, how to assemble, disassemble, and repair your M-16. You could do it in your sleep, the sharp click-click of a reloading magazine heard in your dreams.

This week, along with your usual physical conditioning, you have CBRNE training, MOPP training. You’ll be exposed to CS gas and simulations of biological warfare, your leadership skills put to the test.

You can do this. With Carol by your side, you feel like you can do anything. Little fledglings earning your wings, pushed from the nest, learning to fly when the ground is rushing up to meet you. Make or break.

Twenty-eight more days.

The gas is meant to simulate suffocation, they tell you.

“Masks off! Break the seal! Break, break, break!”

You’re already dizzy, head spinning from the chamber exercises when you stick your fingers in between the small space of your mask and pull hard.

The seal breaks with a sharp hiss.

Fire floods your eyes, your sinuses, down your throat, constricting tight like smoke and flames and hellfire. You taste fireworks, poison. Your eyes instinctively shut, blurry with tears and you cough hard, sputter, hear the echoes of other cadets hacking and gasping.

The simulation is meant to put trust in your equipment, to make you vividly remember that your mask and gear will save your life. And as you stand there with your lungs struggling to expand and the MTIs rounding on each of you in the hazy, cloying smoke, you believe it.

“Airman Recruit Danvers, Division 164!” You hear Carol pant somewhere in the fumes, along the walls of the chamber where you’re all lined up. You keep your mask raised above your head as instructed, waiting, suffocating in silence until it is your turn to state your name and division number. The MTIs move down the line with their masks still fixed. Haunting, weaving through the gas and toxins like plague doctors. The image of death. Vultures tearing fledglings apart with pointed beaks and white bone as you watch cadets choke on their own breath.

The primal impulse of fear trickles from your hypothalamus as the minutes tick on, until your lips and tongue buzz like fire ants, until you can no longer feel the tips of your fingers. You’re sweat-slicked and gasping when an MTI turns to you, screams for your identification.

You sound off. Your entire body is shaking, fevered. You are the last in your row.

You burst through the doors and out into the afternoon air with a stream of cadets behind you, taking flight as you thunder on the asphalt to the open courtyard.

You all cough, spit, clear out your lungs with curses and muted laughter as your squadron stands together beneath cotton clouds and blue sky.

Carol finds you in the mix, the few precious seconds where you’re not forced to fall in line. Seconds to catch your breath. Her skin is flushed and wisps of hair fall to frame her face, her bun messy. She grins and the two of you bump fists, playful.

Your cheeks redden, lungs tight with something other than CS gas. It’s strange seeing Carol disheveled when you’ve been so hardwired with self-control, down to how you’re expected to wear your hair, present yourself.

You like seeing her like this.

“Do we have confidence in that gear?” MTI Galloway emerges from the chambers and asks of you all.

“Yes, Chief!” You roar.

Carol calls you Phoenix after that, running so fast out the chamber and looking like a fire had been lit up your ass.

The nickname is fitting for a duo like you. Raptors, birds of prey, fierce and skilled and yet simultaneously embracing and shielding your femininity with unfurled wings.

Have women not been compared to birds in art and literature throughout history as a means to show fragility? Fleeting beauty?

Why not strength? Why ever not for sleeker attributes, or as hunters?

It’s curious. Ships and planes and weapons of war named after women and dubbed she, her. Powerful, deadly. Yet, the real thing, the real body is demeaned and made less than man.

When you and Carol are up in the sky and screaming through the air in your metal birds, they will see just how fragile you are.

You hit the ground so hard that the air rushes out your lungs in a loud wheeze. You can’t breathe. Your face burns, ears ringing. You can hear the screams of your MTI. You’d rather die of embarrassment right here.

The rope dangles in front of you, fifteen feet straight up, still swaying from where you’d fallen, taunting. Physical conditioning for your Basic Expeditionary Airman Skills Training examination next week, fittingly dubbed the BEAST. Rope climbing and complicated field obstacle courses after you’ve crawled through miles of sand and dirt, navigated through tactical drills with your full pack of gear.

Your arms tremble, your entire upper body drained of all strength, skin biting from the sand. Weak, exhausted. Your palms raw from the rope. Tears of frustration sting at your eyes as your MTI screams out your surname in another bloodcurdling roar to get your ass up out of that dirt.

Yet, the low scoff of a nearby cadet is what piques your attention.

Dalquist. A boy a few years older than yourself with an ugly, crooked grin and sandy hair. A show-off, a boy who thinks himself a man. He smirks again with crossed arms, tuts his tongue as his eyes flicker over you.

“They’ll never let you fly.” He snickers.

Then, Carol is there beside you. She grips your waist strongly, shifting your weight and the two of you slowly rise together amidst the swirling dust. You draw in a shuddering breath.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe they’re all right. Maybe you don’t belong here.

You feel Carol’s muscles tense and manage to squeeze her arm in a silent warning. The entire squadron watches the three of you. The last thing you need is falling to Dalquist’s level and getting punished for it.

So she hits him with a reply quite enough only for the three of you to hear.

“You better hope not.” She rasps.

Your time in the classroom is a welcome break from the stresses of field training. You meet Dr. Wendy Lawson, an incredibly gifted and terrifying brilliant quantum physics scientist when she’s brought in to give you post-deployment training. She teaches you flight mechanics, squadron resources and financial management. You learn about her research on quantum energy.

Lawson is especially kind to you and Carol upon hearing your aspirations to take to the skies as fighter flyers. Her standards are higher for you and she encourages you to speak out when you’ve been too timid to respond to the whole class, the twinkle in her eye giving you courage, a voice for the first time in your life.

Together, Lawson and Carol work to coax you out of your shell.

The days trudge on. You throw Dalquist’s remark behind every new simulation you’re given, every mile, every pushup of your physical conditioning.

And it shows.

Your endurance and stamina have nearly doubled, bringing out new muscles in your back, your arms. You’re stronger than you’ve ever been, strong enough to grapple an unsuspecting Dalquist to the ground during field training. He stares up at you in humiliation and horror and you push him harder into the dirt, until your MTI snorts and tells you to let him up.

The mile and a half lap you take known as the Airman’s Run the week of your graduation is a breeze. Your body is familiar with the motion and exertion, the rest of the cadets who’ve made it through BMT with you dressed in new uniforms of pressed blue shirts and the trademark navy garrison cap.

Family and friends watch as your squadron marches in a parade of waving flag and timed step. Your heart swells with pride, with unparalleled accomplishment.

You’re finally presented with the Airman’s Coin and your dog tags. You’ve completed Basic Training. You are no longer a cadet, a trainee, but an oath-sworn member of the Air Force. Next weekend, you’ll be moved into dorms and officially begin your pilot training.

And then you’re free. For the first time in seven weeks, you are dismissed after the ceremony and to spend the rest of the weekend however you please.

Free time. Privacy. Privileges you took for granted as a civilian. You feel giddy, excited.

“We did it, birdie.” Carol’s voice sounds from behind you. You turn, her smile radiant as ever and mirroring yours.

She looks like she was born to wear the uniform, her shirt crisp and cap perfectly straightened atop her pinned back hair. Your pulse stutters, you find it difficult to swallow.

“We did it.” You laugh, a little too breathless with the way she’s looking down at you with that mischievous glint in her eyes. Her gaze catches your lips, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

God, so self-assured. So confident.

Honestly, you could use a little of that confidence.

“What do you say we get out of here? Go see what this city has to offer aside from base?” She says.

Your knees nearly buckle. You have a feeling that you know what will happen off base, at least, what you hope will happen.

Technically, you wouldn’t be breaking protocol.

And with the two of you buzzing with adrenaline and boosted egos, how can you even think of saying no? You deserve to celebrate.

You leave Lackland Base and head to downtown San Antonio for the rest of the weekend, for two whole days all to yourselves.

You visit the River Walk and explore as much of the fifteen-mile long city park as you can, strolling along the banks and gorging yourselves on street food and local cuisine. No curfew, no officers screaming orders, just the two of you leisurely enjoying a Friday night beneath a soft sunset and twinkling fairy lights.

You have dinner and drinks at a quaint little steakhouse with a live band and music, the musicians donning cowboy hats, boots, chaps and all. It’s corny. It’s absolutely perfect.

The lime juice is sharp and bitter on your tongue as you throw back your third shot of tequila, lap up the salt you’ve sprinkled over your knuckles. Carol isn’t far behind you. Pretty soon, the tavern lanterns swim pleasantly before you and you sway gently to the music in your seat, blissed out, flushed, content.

Carol’s fingers fondly brush your cheek and she laughs, her eyes crinkling and you think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You grin back, a bit too eager and lopsided, lean across the wooden table to grasp her hand.

You drag her to the attached karaoke bar next door and slide a few quarters into the jukebox before she can stop you. The two of you belt out your renditions of Nirvana, Heart, Elastica. Your blood is warm and Carol dances beside you with wired microphone in hand, laughing so hard you’re both crying, pulse pounding behind your temples until finally the jukebox clicks with the last of your change and the next requested song is queued up.

The hotel you check into is just down the street and you practically fall through the doorway trying to get each other out of your uniforms. It’s jumbled and chaotic as you slip out of your combat gear, tripping over boots and pants as you finally touch overheated skin, giggling like children.

Disorderly when your lips meet, her hands coming to cradle your face, holding you still with a low groan, a grip that surprises you. It heightens the flush of alcohol sitting in the pool of your lower belly as you kiss her back, wind your arms around her.

You gasp when she tightens a hand in your hair and pulls, mouth ravaging the skin of your neck with tongue and teeth. She walks you blindly until you’re flush against the wall, turns you around with her frame pressing hard against your back.

Her fingers are sure and true when they cup, caress your heated flesh, not an ounce of hesitation in her. You keen, circle your hips hard into her as she works at unraveling you, forearm circling your neck, leaning to put her lips at your ear, breath hot.

“So pretty. My birdie is so pretty.”

It’s been so long since you’ve last been intimate. The military discipline over your physique has made you forget what it’s like to treat your body with love, to feel pleasure, to be touched by a young woman you’d do anything for.

“Let’s see you fly high, hmm?” She breathes. “You want it faster? I wanna see my little birdie soar. Can you do that for me?”

It’s so easy to let go.

Your flesh clenches around her and you sigh, your entire being quivering. Carol braces you, holds you close as you tremble with aftershocks, burning and burning.

Your world is hazy, melting when Carol leads you to the bed and hoists you on top of her, thighs straddling her lap. The liquid courage returns, coy when you grasp the cool metal of the dogtags between her breasts and yank her forward for another breathless kiss.

Her arms are strong, hard with muscle and hands splayed against the naked skin of your back as she coaxes you to earth shattering heights again and again. Until the grey light of day.

Sunday morning, you sleep in until ten o’clock, roused by streaming sunlight and birdsong. Peaceful quiet, a treat in itself with Carol’s arms lazily draped around you.

Your stomach drops when the sergeant cracks open the C-17 door and the atmosphere shrieks into the aircraft. Your gear is heavy, you’re sweating hard, and your Airborne Division is about to jump. You find it hard to breathe and try not to lock your knees, try not to faint. Gut wrenching, everything inside you screaming that this is suicide. Leaping from a roaring aircraft with nothing but a kevlar sac to break your fall.

You see the Airman in front of you subtly cross himself, pretending to scratch his chin.

You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Fingers grip your waist. Carol stands beside you.

It’s too loud for conversation, the air and engine pressing down on your eardrums with tight pressure, but she gives you a nod, another squeeze of your hip. Her lips mouth a single word.

Fly.

Then, the men in front of you are rushing towards the yawning mouth of the plane and you and Carol are running together, side by side, fearless. And then you jump, spreading your arms, dive like hawks.

The sky is a dome of robin’s egg blue, sun shining and tipping the edge of your gloved fingers with liquid gold. You fall fast, hard. Wind rips through and around you, weightless as gravity pulls you to earth.

Pulse ramming, pure adrenaline, ten agonizing seconds of freefall. You pull the pin and your parachute deploys, rocking you backwards as the fabric unfurls and catches the air. You grip your harness tight, float through the heavens and watch as dozens of parachutes dot the horizon around you.

You whoop, shoot Carol a “hang loose”, smiling wide, goofy and vibrating with excitement.

Her laughter carries across the sky.

You’re there beside her when the two of you are promoted to officer rank. First in your class, looking out over a sea of grim, bored looking faces that stare back at you with quiet hostility.

Your officer uniforms are sharp, handsome. Crisp navy suits decorated with shining medals and visible proof that you have fought tooth and nail to be on the stage where you stand now. You wouldn’t want anyone else here with you but Carol. Your wingman. Your everything.

Your names are called and you rise together in unison as Senior Airman Dalquist pins your new patches to your uniforms.

Weeks later, you learn that Dr. Lawson’s plane has gone down. It punches a hole straight through your chest, wrenches up your insides when the news is broken to you.

After BMT, you’d lost contact with her. You wish you could have told Lawson that you’ve done it, that you and Carol are dominating the skies.

And now she’s missing.

You’re in the hangar and up in the air before anyone can stop you.

The crash site is still smoldering when you touch down at a hidden lake surrounded by a halo of pine and sand. You and Carol rip off your helmets, jump out of the cockpit as soon as your wheels are on solid ground, racing towards the wreckage of an eerily familiar F-16 Fighting Falcon.

Lawson lies slumped forward, still strapped into her seat. The glass of the cockpit has exploded all around her, leaving her open and exposed. It looks grim.

“Doc?” You say. Your voice shakes a bit, but you quickly will all fear out of your mind, take a deep breath and allow your body, your muscle memory to take over. Let your training come back to you.

You push back at her helmet visor, sit her upright. Press three fingers against the artery of her neck.

Cold. No pulse.

Then, you see the smoking hole in her chest, where plasma energy has burned through her jacket and blood drips bold and blue onto her lap.

You exhale hard, ignore the strangeness of the latter to check Lawson’s dashboard for any working electrical machinery. No luck. All fried, all scrambled from the crash.

“Carol, we need pararescue stat. Get them here.” You order.

Carol nods wordlessly, composed, turns on her heel to radio them from your own plane.

You brace yourself against the frame of the cockpit, hang your head in shock. You can’t bear to look at Lawson like this. You don’t want to remember her like this.

In those tense moments of silence, a soft, strange humming reaches your ears, seeming to emulate from the F-16 itself. You take a step back to fully survey the wreckage.

The crash has exposed most of the plane’s wiring and paneling, including the engine. Though, this is no engine like you’ve ever seen.

Monstrous, pulsing with blue light and an aura that draws you closer, pulling at your curiosity. It distracts you long enough for you to almost miss the approaching silhouette of a man from behind the suffocating smoke.

He’s dressed in a bizarre emerald jumpsuit with a blazing yellow star in the center of his chest. His step is charismatic, unfaltering.

And what scares you most is the unholstered gun in his hand.

Carol calls your name in a frantic shout.

You put two and two together. Lawson’s killer.

“We have no interest in hurting you.” He tells you, finally pausing at the crest of the crash site. His voice is surprisingly charming and it sends a chill straight down your spine.

We?

You’re afraid. Your old commanding officer, one of the strongest women you’ve ever known, lies shot and killed with blood the color of toxic waste. Her engine looks foreign, otherworldly. Your mind begins to race.

“The energy core. Where is it?” The man asks and brandishes his gun. You force your breathing to steady, to find a sense of calm. You have to focus. Questioning will make him irritable, panicking will get you killed.

Intuition is enough to tell you that the core is not to leave in this man’s hands by any means.

You catch sight of the glinting handle of a pistol resting between Lawson’s knees. You flicker your gaze away and to the proximity of the engine. Then, you look to Carol.

Her eyes shine with tears in the shimmering heat. Her body is tense, drawn tight like a bow, fight-or-flight. You fear she’ll run to you, that she’ll get herself killed trying to protect you. If the roles were switched, you know you would do just that.

So you act before she has the chance to. In one fluid motion, you draw Lawson’s gun and fire a single shot at the exposed engine.

It explodes like heat and magma. Azure energy engulfs you in a millisecond. Like lightning striking your bones, fire that scorches through your entire being and condemning a blazing death of unbearable, burning power, collapsing like a supernova reborn.

Your nerve-endings detonate, a fusion of flesh and skin and pyro that incinerates you to your very core, destroys you from the inside.

You scream, high and horrible. You’ve never felt such pain.

Your eyes ignite in crimson, red hot, flaring with light. Everything inside you rushing upwards and expanding until your mortal frame can no longer contain this threshold and you burst, combust with starfire.

The blast hits Carol next, lifting her up and dissipating, coiling like mist through her skin in synergy. She glows like an iridescent comet, blue light rolling off of her like water and waves, her own eyes flaring turquoise, then white.

When the two of you hit the ground, trees and sand bend and blow around you, knocking the man unconscious as the inertia from your combined energy throws him backwards.

You cry out as you try and hold yourself, crumpled. You are charred, your body humming with poison, radiation and flame, eager to crackle out of you at your slightest impulse, eyes still flaring powerfully.

“I-It hurts..” you gasp weakly.

A true phoenix. Broken and born from ashes.

Carol is there cradling you as tears leak down your face. Wisps of magenta and teal ripple around her with every movement, glittering with cosmic potential, like she contains her very own galaxy. Achingly beautiful.

“I know, birdie.” Carol murmurs as you choke, sputter from the pain. “Fight it. Give it to me.” She says and reaches for your hands.

Carol yelps softly when you push a bit of your glowing gold into her, as she trades starpower for fire and you watch the cage of her chest bloom like a lantern, veins and eyes rimming with ember. She does the same, giving you the moon and stars and the gleaming, lavender milky way.

You let go and Carol gasps as she absorbs a new piece of you. Your mind clears, the pain nothing more than a dull ache.

Exhaustion and shot nerves finally set in as the two of you lie there, quiet enough to hear the wind whistling through pine. You throw your arms around her, your kiss tasting like tears and sand and flushed sunlight.

Carol braces you against her, hoists your arm around her shoulders and lifts you upright. Side by side until the very end.

Then, you take to the skies, blazing like comet streaks and crimson hawks.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x you #carol danvers fanfiction #captain marvel fanfictio #carol danvers fanfic #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel drabble #captain marvel fic #carol danvers #captain marvel #marvel fanfic #reader insert

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years ago

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The Unknown - Chapter 22. Pervert [Minho x Reader]

Title: The Unknown - Chapter 22. Pervert ➔ Chapter 23. Here! Pairing: Minho x Female!Reader Published: 4 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore The Unknown Masterlist | Masterlists

The next few days Minho introduced me to section 1 and 2 this way completing my training. As a last trial, he let me lead as he instructed me which sections he wanted to check out. He was trying to see if I could get from one section to another without going back on to the main path. Even I was proud of how quickly I reacted at his requests. It seemed I started getting comfortable in between the passages.

After a couple of days he even let me go with the other runners. I went with Ben at first, as we did before, then I was coupled up with Will, Jason and last Hank. I started getting along with the guys as I finally wasn't treated differently. I even went out with Thomas for both of our surprise.

It was almost time for the doors to close when Hank and I returned to the Glade, laughing. He was an average looking guy, barely taller than me with brown hair and brown eyes and a very bad sense of humour. He was rather tiring than funny, but it did help the mood when someone felt down.

"Do you want me to list any more of my precious lines?" He asked winking at me.

"I'm begging you, please don't. I already gave up an hour ago." I said half crying, half dying of laughter.

"Okay, just a few more and I will let you live peacefully." He smirked. "Is that a mirror in your pocket?" He asked and I shook my head already preparing myself for some ridiculous answer. "Cause I can see myself in your pants!" There was a few seconds awkward silence between us.

"That was a very bad one." I tried to keep a straight face, but I did start chuckling not long after.

"Okay okay, give me another chance." He scoffed at my response and as he opened his mouth along with a huge grin, I knew I was done for. "My love for you is like diarrhoea." He stopped for a dramatic moment and I frowned at the weird sentence. "I just can't hold it in." I glanced at him with blank eyes for a second, before bursting into laughter and tripping over my own feet. I fell on my stomach, but I rolled around to lay on my back to be able to laugh. I pulled my legs to my stomach to relieve the pain I had from laughter and tripping over.

"I hate you." I screamed jokingly, while trying to get up. He reached for my hand and pulled me up. "Remind me, never to go with you again." I pushed on his shoulder.

"I know, you are secretly enjoying it." He smirked. We almost reached the Map Room's door, when we realised Minho was standing there.

"You seem to be concentrating more on having fun rather than doing your job." He said in a bitter tone and our smiles disappeared in seconds.

"Slim it, Minho." I talked back. "We were just having a laugh. We would all go crazy if we just ran trying to find something that has been hidden for years, don't you think?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"That's exactly the reason why you should concentrate even more." He replied without a change of expression.

"If you want to be boring, then go ahead, but I'm not planning on joining you." I scoffed and walked past him into the Map Room.

"You have guts." Hank chuckled as he closed the door behind himself. "He would have chopped the little me off if it was me." I giggled at his use of words.

"Let me tell you a secret. Girls are privileged, you know? You say we are weaker, but that is not the case. Man are physically stronger and have a better stamina, that might be true, but women are more cunning, more manipulative. They always get what they want. You better learn that." I stuck my tongue out at him.

It took us abut 10 minutes to draw some new passages and changes we have found and we headed to the kitchen. Then I decided to take a shower first and then get some food. I went to my room and picked up some of my clean cloths and a towel and went straight for the steaming hot water.

"Are you here?" I heard Minho's voice and I didn't even know what to do in that situation. I was stunned at his bravery. I was about to attack him for walking in while I was having a shower, but then I realised a naked woman running to a man, might not be the best of the options at hand.

"Yes?" It sounded more like a question.

"Can we talk?" He continued and I wasn't sure if he was plain dumb or he was doing it on purpose.

"I'm having a shower. So I'm assuming it can wait." I said with an ironic tone.

"I'm good." He said and I just felt the grin on his face without looking at him.

"I'm not." I hissed.

"I don't mind." He replied.

"You are very clearly getting on my nervous." I said while peeped my head out of the shower curtain, hiding the rest of my body. "Would you mind leaving, please?" I looked straight into his dark eyes.

"I would." He grinned at the sight of me.

"Minho, I'm asking you the last time. Get your ass out of here." I hissed. I felt every effort of mine was ineffective. His grin just grew bigger.

"What will you do if I don't?" He walked closer. I went back into the shower and closed the water. I wrapped the towel around my body, only showing my lower body from mid-thigh and opened the curtain. I took my boots that were placed in front of the curtain indicating someone was inside - most definitely me - and I threw one at him.

"I will torture you." I said fuming at him.

"With that sight, I'm only getting enjoyment out of it." He chuckled.

"You pervert!" I shouted at him throwing the other pair of the boots at him. He started running away and I was about to follow him, but then I remembered my state and walked back behind the curtain to dress up. I barely dried myself, I just wanted to catch that idiot.

I got out of the shower and started looking for Minho.

"Get back here you shuck-face." I screamed. I was walking around in bare foot and I felt everything from stones to dirt under my feet. "I will personally carve your eyes out."

"Uhh... you changed." He smirked but was acting as if he was disappointed. "I preferred your previous look."

"You are dead meat!" I ran after him. "Give me my boots back, you pervert." I screamed and some of the guys came out of the kitchen. "I will cut you into pieces while you are still breathing and will force Frypan to make a stew out of you. Give me my boots back." I screamed and as I was getting closer I jumped and threw myself at him. I landed right on top of his back as he fell on to the ground. I took my boots from his hand and held them up in the air. "Who's the winner, slinthead?!" I grinned and was about to stand up, when he moved under me holding onto my thighs and making me drop my shoes and grab onto his neck. "Put me down!" I hit his shoulder as he stood up.

"Don't wanna." He replied ignorantly and started leaning back, pretending to drop me.

"Don't you dare! You are playing with fire, Minho." I grabbed his neck from the front trying to make him faint. But I wasn't a professional. I didn't even know what I was doing.

"Can't you feel how scared I am? I'm so terrified of you." He joked, but I just ignored him and started hitting his back.

"Put me down you slinthead shuck-face!" I screamed, but he didn't give a klunk. "Put me down before I'll do something I'll regret." I warned him quietly, but he just grinned without a care in the world. I leaned closer to his ear, brushing it with my lips.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

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kaistarus · 4 years ago

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Clickbait(YouTubeAU)--Ch 8

Pairings: Kiribaku; Tododeku; Seromina

Words: 4,678

Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being your lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima's least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he's dragging down with him won't mind...

Notes: She’s alive! lol here’s the next update finally... coronavirus right? wtf is that about. Anyway, Camie deserves more love, so I gave it to her :)

Read the full story here

As Kirishima took in the two-story house, packed full of college kids that spilled into the crushed White Claws and red solo cups yard, he realized he may be in over his head.

“Well, we definitely have the right address,” Sero said, side-stepping a couple as they wobbled past, clinging heavily onto each other as their laughs rang a little too loudly through the crisp night air.

Kirishima nodded in agreeance. The strong bass from the music inside the chipping red-paint college house shook the ground beneath him. He tried to guess what song the cheap LA DJ had remixed beyond repair, but deemed it hopeless with such a sporadic rhythm.

“This party is sick,” Kaminari smirked, pointing to the cheap christmas lights hanging on the second-story balcony that flashed to the music’s beat. As if that boosted a party’s rating in any way.

“Camie should be around here somewhere…” Mina pushed her lips into a pout, absentmindedly wandering up the sidewalk while staring at her phone. Kirishima smirked as Sero shot death stares at the people playing beer pong who did nothing to hide themselves checking Mina out.

“If we’re lucky she won’t show up at all.”

Kirishima glanced over to Bakugou, hands shoved deep into his pockets and glaring at the drunken students that could no longer control their volume. His eyes trailed down to the black t-shirt Bakugou wore that accentuated his chest just right and after admiring the view shot the grumpy boy a wide smile.

“Aren’t you and Camie friends?”

A sneer covered his face. “In her mind.”

“She’s so cool though.” Mina said, giving Bakugou a confused look over her shoulder. “We’ve been talking since your party and she’s, like, the nicest person ever.”

“No wonder Bakugou doesn’t like her.” Sero said as he fiddled around with the camera he brought. They couldn’t forget the vlog after all. The whole point of being here was to work.

“Well, that’s not right. Kirishima’s the goodest boy alive and Bakugou like likes him.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Yeah, because Kirishima isn’t annoying as fuck.” Bakugou crossed his arms with a sneer on his face. Kirishima felt a blush creep up his neck because even though they’d made it clear they had feelings for each other, it still felt surreal anytime Bakugou stated it so boldly.

It didn’t help that Mina was wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces behind Bakugou’s back.

“So romantic,” Sero said with a laugh. “Can’t wait for the day someone tells me I’m not annoying as fuck.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Mina teased, sticking out her tongue at Sero’s pout.

Manning the front door of the house was an exhausted looking guy, slouching in a rusted metal chair. Without taking his eyes up from his smartphone he extended his hand up to the group.

“If you’re a girl you’re free and if you’re a boy it’s five dollars.”

Mina blew them a raspberry as she skipped into the party while Kirishima suddenly remembered why he disliked going to parties during his short-lived college career. As he dug through his jean pockets for the crumpled five he knew existed somewhere-beneath his house keys, one of Mina’s scrunchies, and a spare chapstick that’s been washed several times and useless-the guy glanced up and went slackjaw.

“Holy shit,” he dropped his phone onto his lap and scrambled to sit up straight. “Are you fucking--Is it really--RedRiot?”

Kirishima blinked a couple times before Kaminari slung an arm around him. “Yep. RedRiot and friends.”

The guy stuttered several times before finally noticing Bakugou. “And you--you’re that angry ghost hunter guy!”

Bakugou’s eye twitched and he tried to calmly ground out. “I’m not a fucking ghost hunter.”

“Okay,” Kirishima grabbed Bakugou’s tightened fist to calm him down. “Uh, yeah that’s us. Is that okay? We don’t have to be here if--”

“Dude, no way. Go ahead.” The guy ushered them through the door, careful to not touch Bakugou as he practically growled at him.

“Really? I have five dollars it’s no big deal if--”

Kirishima was pulled through the threshold without finalizing his offer. As he followed his friends further into the house, weaving through clumps of people congregated together, he continued to look back guiltily.

“What?” Bakugou asked.

“I feel bad.” Kirishima said earnestly. “I shouldn’t get special privileges just because I’m a YouTuber. That wasn’t fair to all the other people who--”

Bakugou pinched his cheek and shook Kirishima's face around. Kirishima was too confused with the action to get properly upset about it, and the fond look in Bakugou’s scarlet stare completely wiped his mind.

“I promise you with how cheap their fucking alcohol is and how many drunk idiots are here their making more than enough money. Your five dollars means nothing.” Bakugou’s mouth lifted into a quick smile before squeezing Kirishima’s cheek and releasing it. Kirishima rubbed at the spot. “You’re too good.”

“I just feel bad…”

Bakugou poked Kirishima’s forehead repetitively. “Don’t waste time worrying about stupid things.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, but in a way uniquely Bakugou, his words had given him a bit of relief.

“Alright guys. I’ve found the booze and I’ll be back” Kaminari shot them finger guns and began backing away towards the only room lit up by overhead lights and not cheap fairy lights.

“We won’t be seeing him for a while.” Sero said, searching around the room for a different reason.

“Don’t you usually give Sparky a babysitter?” Bakugou asked.

“Sometimes,” Kirishima shrugged. “He’ll survive probably.”

“Holy shit,” a high-pitched voice squealed. “Is that Blasty?”

Bakugou’s shoulders shot to his ears and his eyes pinched closed in preparation before he was tackled into a tight hug, arms around his neck as the assailant's legs lifted off the ground. Bakugou was quick to shake her off and hold the snickering girl at a distance.

“Look who I ran into.” Mina announced as she skipped up to them trailing behind Camie.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Camie smirked, her arm now clinging tight around Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Thanks for the invite.” Kirishima smiled.

“No problem at all. If I would’ve known you guys were legit dating I would’ve invited you out here weeks ago!” She pulled Bakugou down and ruffled his hair, while he wiggled himself out of her grip. “I never would’ve guessed Blasty could land a hottie like you.” She said with several nudges to Bakugou’s stomach. He shoved her away again, yet she remained unbothered.

“Well, we haven’t really--”

“Would you fuck off.” Bakugou said, still pushing Camie away by her face, but rather than taking offense she just began giggling before gripping Bakugou’s nose playfully.

“Aww, is our little Blasty embarrassed?” She asked while moving his head back and forth. He went to swipe at her hand, but she’d already let go and leapt behind Kirishima for cover. “Geez, keep a leash on this one. Am I right?”

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, shrugging at Bakugou helplessly as Camie stuck her tongue out at the fuming boy from over Kirishima’s shoulder.

“What’s with everyone calling him Blasty?” Mina asked between giggles, the glare from Bakugou doing nothing to quell her amusement. “You and Uraraka both use it.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “It’s not fucking important for--”

“Oh my god. That’s the best story.” Camie said skipping to Mina’s side.

“Don’t you have something better to do than annoy the fuck out of me?” Bakugou growled.

“Oh, Bakubaby. You know I don’t.” Camie said with a devilish smile. “So, Bakugou’s first year in college, during his first ever chem lab, right? He was obviously trying to show off, cause like, he’s Bakugou...”

Kirishima half listened to Camie's embarrassing story of Bakugou pre-YouTube, adding Bakugou’s apparent love for chemistry to his neverending list of interesting Baku-facts, while simultaneously admiring how Bakugou looked under the dim college party lights. The humidity of the densely packed house left a slick sheen across Bakugou’s forehead and his normally chaotic hair was weighed down by the air. The thick scent of alcohol left Kirishima feeling slightly enthralled, and with the lights darkened and music covering whispers, he was beginning to understand the few couples pinning each other in the corners.

“Anyway, I hear they still tell the tale of the great Bakugou Katsuki explosion before every Freshman’s first Chem lab.” Camie laughed before taking a swig from her red solo cup, wiping the dribble from the corner of her mouth inelegantly. Bakugou was sneering at her and Kirishima could practically feel the steam rolling off him from the short distance between them.

He gave Bakugou’s bicep a small squeeze, definitely to calm him down and not for any personal pleasure, and shot him a crooked grin. “Don’t worry about it. Kaminari embarrasses himself worse on a daily basis.”

Bakugou looked between Kirishima’s grip and his eyes before scoffing. “Whatever.”

“Speaking of our idiot.” Sero looked at Mina. “We should probably go find him.”

Kirishima nodded. It had been a little too long that Kaminari had been by himself. They needed to both check that he was still alive, and if he had done anything stupid enough they could at least put it in the vlogs. Just as they began pushing through the crowd toward the kitchen Mina abruptly stopped the train.

“Do you hear that?”

Kirishima’s stomach sank as he slowly turned back toward the main room of the house. The owners of the house had removed the majority of their furniture and belongings from what appeared to be the living room. What remained was a bookshelf and a couch both shoved against a far wall and somehow, atop the bookshelf, their idiot was bouncing around. The crowd around him chanted ‘Chargebolt’ as he danced pathetically to a remixed version of something Kirishima thought he heard on the radio, but couldn’t tell anymore.

“How’d he even get up there?” Sero’s eyes widened as they watched Kaminari start chugging from a bottle of Whiskey. “How’d he get that?”

Kaminari began circling his butt in some semblance of a rhythm as he slowly turned around and while stretching his arms he began to crouch. The group started to panic and Kirishima began shoving his way forward.

“Is your friend going to jump?” Camie asked, completely stunned.

Kirishima barely broke into the crowd before Kaminari had back flopped onto it. His heart stopped as he watched his friend hardly lift off the shelf in a lame attempt to crowd surf, certain Kaminari was about to die. Miraculously, the drunken group of college kids had used their several collective brain cells to come together and catch him. The mass of people cheered loudly as Kaminari was passed around and Kirishima walked slowly back to his friends who all were staring at the event in equal zombie like states.

“I need a fucking drink,” Bakugou stated already stepping away from their circle before gesturing back to Kirishima. “Want something?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Anything is fine.”

“Can you get me one too?” Mina smiled, fluttering her false lashes.

Bakugou shot a middle finger over his shoulder in response as he pushed his way past sweaty bodies dancing too close for comfort. Kirishima smiled softly, a warmth filled his chest as he kept eyes on him as long as he could.

“Your boyfriend is rude.” Mina said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kirishima felt another blush creep up. “Well, we aren’t exactly--.”

“They’re so cute,” Camie cooed, grabbing her cheeks and ignoring how her drink spilled onto the floor. “I’ve never seen Bakugou so whipped.”

“All he did was get drinks.” Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“Please, he’s been staring at you like a lovesick puppy this whole time.” Camie said, sighing wistfully. “I’ve literally never seen him look at anyone like that before, unless it was himself in a mirror.”

Sero hummed. “There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence.”

“Oh, shut up.” Mina whacked his shoulder lightly.

“I’m just saying,” Sero put his hands up in defense. “I know this is LA, but that’s taking self-love a little too far, right?”

Mina smacked his chest with both her fists and Sero grabbed them playfully. They started up their usual bickering, Sero a teasing lilt in his voice and a light pink dusting Mina’s cheeks.

“Ugh, is everybody here lovey-dovey?” Camie frowned over the rim of her cup. “I’m starting to feel left out.”

Mina whipped her attention toward Camie and quickly stepped away from Sero. “What that’s--we aren’t… I don’t know what you--”

“Relax, it’s a joke.” Camie waved her cup in Mina’s direction with a mischievous smirk. Kirishima felt almost guilty about enjoying Mina’s embarrassment. But, at least he wasn’t posting a video about their possible relationship for the world...

He raised an eyebrow, thoughtfully.

“Back,” Bakugou nudged Kirishima’s shoulder while handing him and Mina drinks. After avoiding Mina’s appreciative hug he saddled up on Kirishima’s far side away from both her and Camie.

“Hey party people!” Kaminari slurred, wobbling his way out of the crowd he’d sunken down into earlier. “Did you see my sick crowd surf?”

“Hell yeah!” Camie raised her hand for a high-five. “That shit was sick, bro.”

Kaminari blinked before breaking out into a huge grin and reciprocating the high-five. “Yeah! Someone who finally gets it.”

“Great. Now there’s two dumb fuck blondes.” Bakugou sneered over the rim of his red solo. Kirishima snickered into his cup and Bakugou raised both eyebrows in question.

“It’s just… you’re also blonde… so…”

“Yeah, but I’m hot and a genius.”

Kirishima tilted his head in confusion. “What does being hot have to do with being smart?”

“So you agree?” Bakugou pressed a finger against Kirishima’s forehead that he followed with crossed-eyes. “You think I’m hot?”

Kirishima shoved his hand away with a red face and began sputtering. “I never--That’s not what I--I mean, yeah, but you can’t just--”

“Calm down,” Bakugou rolled his eyes with a cocky smirk that sent Kirishima’s heart into orbit. Bakugou reached forward and gripped onto Kirishima’s cheeks again to shake his head around. “It’s a joke.”

Kirishima’s eye twitched and he shoved his hand away from his face. “Why do you keep pinching my cheeks?”

Bakugou blinked a few times before poking Kirishima’s cheek instead. “‘Cause they’re fucking squishy looking.”

“What does that mean?”

“I dunno.” Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows. “It just means I want to touch them.”

Kirishima tilted his head at Bakugou’s statement, trying to mull over the words, but ended up with nothing. He couldn’t even tell if he’d been insulted or not, but by the puzzled look on Bakugou’s face neither did he.

“Hey, lover boys,” Mina clapped to garner their attention. “We’re heading outside to play some beer pong. You guys in or you gonna stay here and flirt some more?”

Bakugou immediately snapped out of his stupor with a dangerous smirk. “Is that a fucking challenge Pinky?”

“It can be.” Mina’s eyes sparked with fire. “Think you can handle it?”

Bakugou chuckled darkly, sending a chill down Kirishima’s spine as Bakugou raced Mina through the bodies that clung tighter together the longer the night went on. Kirishima shook his head as he watched them, trailing after at half the speed.

He welcomed the cool night air that chilled his overheated skin from the muggy building. The contrast of noise once Kirishima exited the door was immense. The music toned down greatly and was replaced with people whispering intoxicated secrets they’d likely regret in the morning, the only small commotion from the few gathered around the beer pong table. The loudest noise pulling attention came from Bakugou and Mina’s shit talking over an already aggressive competition.

“Can I have the camera?” Kirishima gestured to Sero, figuring now would be a good time to pick up the slack. Sero shrugged and, trusting his abilities too much, tossed it over. Kirishima barely caught it, shooting him a glare before heading over to Mina and Bakugou’s game.

“You cool with being in the vlog?” Kirishima asked, already aiming the lens at his face, recording.

Bakugou blinked, then smirked cockily. “As long as you’re recording me kicking Pinky ass.”

“It’s going to be hard to film something that doesn’t happen Blasty.” Mina emphasized the nickname while sinking a perfect shot. “Kirishima, you have to film the entire game. These aren’t the Bakugou vlogs.”

Kirishima turned bright red as he whipped the camera over to where Mina was prepping for her second shot, dunking her ball into a water cup on the side.

“Maybe you’d get more views if they were,” Bakugou grinned, catching her second ping pong ball as it bounced off the foldout table out of bounds.

“If anything we’d lose half our audience.” Mina said, catching the first of Bakugou’s balls as it went over all the cups. “I’m sure Kirishima would have a great time editing all the footage though.”

Kirishima didn’t bother arguing that point as he filmed Bakugou furrowing his brow in concentration, sticking out his tongue slightly while he lined up his toss. He’d definitely enjoy watching this back more than what’s socially acceptable. He zoomed in extremely close so that it was just Bakugou’s eyes and he chuckled to himself at how ridiculous it looked. Until they were both glaring at him.

“The fuck are you laughing at?”

Kirishima quickly shoved the camera down to his lap. “Uh… nothing.”

He fiddled with the settings so that it was back to normal and chewed the inside of his cheek to keep himself from breaking into a smile. Bakugou continued to eye him suspiciously, but winning must have taken priority because luckily he dropped the situation quickly.

Much to Bakugou’s disappointment, the game didn’t last much longer before Mina beat him by several cups. Kirishima tried to remind him with how few parties Bakugou had been to it was actually impressive that he almost won, but it didn’t stop Bakugou from pouting for the next half hour. Mina, however, rode that victory high for as long as possible, annihilating any boy who dared to challenge her there after. Kirishima stuck around for a few games to get a little more footage, promising Mina that through the power of editing he’d make her look like even more of a badass, before deciding she’d be there longer than his attention span could handle.

On the opposite end of the porch Kaminari, Sero, and Camie were slouched against the wall listening as Kaminari went on another one of his rants. He was still sipping from the liquor bottle and Kirishima raised an eyebrow at Sero since he was a little past a point that he should be drinking, but Sero shrugged and mouthed ‘water’. Letting out a sigh Kirishima was content that he could relax knowing everything was okay.

He glanced over the banister to Bakugou who had taken purchase in the center of the front lawn, lying on his back with arms behind his head as he stared at the sky. Kirishima took a moment to admire the scene, Bakugou’s relaxed beauty amidst the chaotic beer can filled yard. A beautiful mess.

He jogged down the concrete porch steps to reach Bakugou, giving him a lopsided grin when he hovered over him in the middle of the yellowing grass. Bakugou’s gaze flickered to Kirishima and a soft smile dusted his lips.

“Have you recovered from your loss?” Kirishima said, teasing.

Bakugou's smile turned into a disgruntled frown. “Fuck off. If I would’ve practiced I could’ve kicked her ass.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, but hummed in agreeance. He kicked a crushed beer can that laid beside Bakugou and ungracefully plopped down, cradling his knees he followed Bakugou’s eyes upward. He noticed that from here, further from the city, he could see more stars dotting the sea of obsidian than from his Los Angeles home.

“This is like when we first met.” Bakugou said, eyes trained on the sky. “Outside of a party or whatever.”

Kirishima tilted his head in surprise, but as the off-key singing to Mr. Brightside reached his ears he couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty identical.”

“Fuck off.” Bakugou snorted. “You know what I mean.”

He did. Kirishima closed his eyes and allowed himself to roll onto his back. His heart jumped to his throat when he felt a small brush against his hand that lay relaxed in the grass between them. He looked over and saw Bakugou had loosely placed his fingers beside his, slinging his other arm over his face to hide any expression from Kirishima’s curious look. He bit his lip and with all the courage he could, completed the action by loosely interlocking their fingers, facing the stars before he could judge Bakugou’s reaction.

But instead of pulling away, like Kirishima feared, he adjusted himself closer.

Kirishima couldn’t believe how far he’d come since that first night. From thinking Bakugou would throw him off a balcony out of pure hatred to being… whatever they were right now. If he tried to go back in time to describe this to past Kirishima, that version of him would punch him for lying before believing a word he said.

“Hey Bakugou…” Kirishima began, waiting for Bakugou’s quiet grunt of acknowledgement. “I’m really glad that I met you.”

Kirishima bit the inside of his cheek to calm the sporadic rhythm of his heart. He felt a tug on his arm and Kirishima rolled his head to the side to be met with Bakugou’s inquisitive stare, flickering across Kirishima’s face as if searching. Kirishima started looking around awkwardly.

Bakugou took a deep breath, “Kirishima, I’m not--”

“Oh lover boys!” Mina shouted from the porch. “There’s only a few more songs, so if you’re going to do anything you gotta do it now Ei.”

Kirishima pushed himself onto his elbows to shoot Mina a thumbs up before turning back to Bakugou. “What were you saying?”

Bakugou just shook his head as he rolled up onto his feet. “What’s she talking about?”

“The big finale.” He said, pushing himself up and making his way back to the house. Bakugou raised an eyebrow with uncertainty, but followed Kirishima back into the party through the riled students that swayed and shouted overenthusiastically, giving their all for the last few moments they had of their night of freedom.. Kirishima felt Bakugou grip the back of his t-shirt to not lose him in the tight knit crowd and felt his chest flutter.

But now wasn’t the time.

When Kirishima finally reached his destination at the furthest point in the living room where a young man was manning a cheap DJ station he began climbing over the makeshift blockade. Bakugou’s eyes widened and he gripped the back of his shirt tighter.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“The best part?” Kirishima smirked. He turned to the DJ who was now slack jaw and grinned.

“RedRiot?”

“Can you do me a favor?” The DJ nodded enthusiastically. Kirishima looked back to Bakugou who stared up at him stunned. He reached out to him and Bakugou looked around at everyone crowding the DJ, specifically Camie who Kirishima noticed was giving him a teasing grin, before a determined look set onto his face and he firmly gripped Kirishima’s hand.

Kirishima confirmed the DJ had connected his phone before grabbing the microphone and stepping dangerously onto an unsteady speaker. Bakugou stood to the side confused as the music died out, people first whining until they noticed Kirishima smacking the top of the microphone checking it’s sound. That’s when the squeals and cheers began.

“Hey guys,” he said as a round of cheers erupted throughout the crowd. He waved them down before continuing. “I’m filming something quick if that’s okay. I just need you to sing along if you know the words, please.”

As he hopped back off the speaker slowly the music began to fade back in: I’m Good by The Mowgli’s. Kirishima’s signature outro for the majority of his vlogs. He laughed as the entire house party shouted the song. Some had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and swayed back and forth while others jumped up and down wildly as if it was some sort of mosh pit. It held him in disbelief that he could stand up here with people knowing who he was. Some even shout his name.

He began laughing as he put down his camera, his smile wide enough that his cheeks were beginning to ache. He turned to ask Bakugou what he thought of it all, but was stopped short. Bakugou looked mesmerizing, scarlet eyes enamored as they watched Kirishima and lips in a slight upturn. It took Kirishima’s breath away.

“What is it?”

“You.” He said breathlessly.

Kirishima gave a lopsided grin. “What’s that supposed to--”

Bakugou gripped the collar of his shirt and effectively cut him off by pulling him forward for an admittedly unpleasant impact. The second Kirishima realized the situation, a beat of his heart passing before his brain restarted, he relaxed against Bakugou, repositioning for a less painful approach. The muffled cheers barely registered behind the pounding against his ribcage and the speakers that shook the stand beneath their feet as Bakugou’s lips moved steadily against his, the taste of cheap beer lingering on his tongue. He placed a blind hand atop a pounding speaker to steady himself when Bakugu pulled back with hooded eyes and heavy breaths.

Kirishima struggled to steady his own breathing pattern and keep his blush at bay when Bakugou sent him a cocky ass smirk. Kirishima would have called him out if his brain wasn’t still lagging.

“Fuck yeah!” A deep voice shouted from the crowd as a few people continued to squeal at their public display. Bakugou seemed to slowly remember where they were and flipped off their audience.

“You can’t flip them off,” Kirishima laughed, pulling Bakugou’s hand down.

“They’re being nosy.” Bakugou glared at the swarm of people as the DJ switched to the last song of the night.

“We kissed in front of them on a platform,” Kirishima raised a brow, gesturing to their location. “It’s not exactly discreet.”

“Well, I don’t cheer for every fucker I see making out against a wall.”

Kirishima chuckled low. “I think the party would’ve been a lot more entertaining if you had though.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Probably,” Kirishima nudged him and without thought said, “but I’m your idiot.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened at the statement and Kirishima quickly panicked. “I mean, I’m not like your your idiot. I’m just like an idiot who is also with you, but not like with you with you because I’m totally emotionally stable enough to just be--”

Bakugou pinched both of Kirishima’s cheeks and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I want you to be my idiot.”

“Yeah?” Kirishima asked. Bakugou nodded and gave Kirishima’s head a little shake. “Does that mean you’re my idiot too?”

Bakugou pinched Kirishima’s cheeks roughly before releasing him. “Absolutely not.”

Kirishima rubbed at his face and whined. “Wha--why not?”

“Because I’m not an idiot,” Bakugou scoffed as he began climbing off the DJ stand they were still chatting on. Kirishima pushed his lips out in a pout, accepting Bakugou’s hand to help him down. “So, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Kirishima was grateful Bakugou was there because he would’ve buffed it if not for the arm steadying him. His jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed at Bakugou’s bright red face. Had he really just said what Kirishima thought he just said?

“Like… the dating kind?”

“Yes? What other...” Bakugou scrunched up his face and turned away. “Look, if you don’t want to then just say so because I--”

Kirishima cradled either side of Bakugou’s face. “I want to,” He said, pressing their foreheads together. “I really want to.”

Bakugou nodded against him slowly before Kirishima captured his lips for another kiss. He felt Bakugou smile against his mouth and it took every ounce of strength he had not to keel over from happiness. Call him a hopeless romantic but… this felt right.

Bakugou felt right.

#kiribaku #youtube au #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku fanfic #bnha #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia

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