#this is mostly night two's performance but i think the crowd shots are from night one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs. They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter. He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two. The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’. Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call. “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!” Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.” “You… are something else.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?” Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.” “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?” What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one. “Only if it’s my treat.” “But I was the one who asked you out.” “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.” Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?” Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!” Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach. “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.” Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that. “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.” That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.” “I mean it kind of is.” “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?” “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?” Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling. “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.” The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes). Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived. “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.” She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message. Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?” “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…” She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?” “You could say that, yeah.” “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.” Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.” For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist. “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.” “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.” At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.” “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face. “Swear it.” “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.” “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.” “See ya’ in a bit.” Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her. “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it. “Thank you. For being here.” Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.” When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs. As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting. “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs. “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.” Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it. “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.” By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.” She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it. “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.” As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face. “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.” “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.” “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had. Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!” “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest. When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.” “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.” “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience. “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!” The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe. “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was. “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him. When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so. “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.” “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.” Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

606 notes · View notes

all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Sing me my song.

summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.

Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.

However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.

It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.

For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.

And that’s when she met Harry.

A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.

Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.

Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.

Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.

Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.

“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.

“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”

“Sure, who are we seeing?”

“Ariana.”

Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.

“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.

“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.

Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.

Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.

Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.

The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.

Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.

So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.

Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.

It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.

Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.

Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.

It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.

One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.

“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”

“Me too.”

The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.

Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”

“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.

“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.

“So I noticed.”

Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”

“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.

“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”

“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.

“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.

“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.

“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”

Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.

“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.

Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.

“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.

“Totally, I’ll text you.”

The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.

“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.

“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.

Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.

The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”

“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.

“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”

“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”

“According to you, how was she looking at me?”

“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”

“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”

“Now you’re being mean.” She said.

“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”

“She was-”

“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”

“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”

“It won’t.” She stated.

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”

“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”

“Baby-”

“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”

Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”

“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.

“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”

“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”

“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs

830 notes · View notes

freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

The Fickle Finger of Fate//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Underaged drinking, slight language, one teeny paragraph of sexual content but no details, sexual references(all characters are legally adults in the wizard world), mentions of nudity, mentions of death (minor character), ANGST

Summary: Soulmate AU, but with a twist. How much can someone test fate, and what are the consequences when that happens?

Prompts: "I can't lose you." "You already did." and "Let me go."

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: @love-peachh's writing challenge!! with above prompts and the soulmates trope, the third fic in Abby's Week of Weasley !

~Abby's Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

Message me to be on the taglist!

May 1995

Today was the day. The one you had been waiting for your entire life. The day that would change everything for you. Today was the day you would find your soulmate.

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, and the last day of school was just around the corner. Which meant it was time for you, and the rest of the Sixth Years at Hogwarts to line up and await for your name to be called. One by one you’d step into Dumbledore’s office and perform some sort of ceremony--what is was you weren’t entirely certain--to determine who your soulmate would be.

You bounced with excitement as you met up with Fred and George Weasley, your best friends since first year. They were much less excited about receiving their soulmates, but they laughed and supported your glee.

Truth be told, you were secretly hoping that Fred would be the one you were spending the rest of your life with. You’d had a crush on him for years but had always been too afraid to say anything. If it was announced that you two were destined to be together, then there would be nothing holding you back anymore.

“Excited, are we?” Fred teased, watching you tap your foot in impatience.

“How could you not be!” you exclaimed. “This is when we find out our soulmate, Fred. The person we’ll love for the rest of our lives! It’s kind of a big deal.”

He only shrugged, not caring in the slightest. “We’re 17. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, why do we need to be tied down so early?”

“I second that,” said George. “I’m all for settling down once I’m older, but knowing who it’s gonna be with? It feels kind of weird.”

“Oh, you two just aren’t romantics,” you said, sighing dreamily. “Trust me, after this everything is going to change,”

And it did.

The second you completed the ceremony where Dumbledore cast a spell that read into your soul, the name of your soulmate was hovering in the air above you. Fred Weasley.

You almost cried with joy and you rushed out of the room, telling Fred that he had to go next and see who he got. You were on the edge of your seat waiting for him to reemerge, for him to say that it was you and always had been, for him to sweep you off your feet and pull you into the first of your many sweet kisses.

When Fred finally exited the office he looked at you and smiled. But it wasn’t at all what you were expecting. He didn’t seem enthusiastic at all. In fact, the smile he sent you was the same one he always did, a friendly teasing grin.

You shook your head, telling yourself not to overthink things. You two were meant to be together, it was fate.

“So,” you prodded, “who was your soulmate?”

Fred’s grin faltered and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere private?”

You agreed after a moment of shock, nerves trembling in your stomach. Why wasn’t he happy? What did he have to talk about?

The both of you ended up in a secluded corner of the castle and you sat down next to him, his hands holding yours. “So, I’m assuming that I’m your soulmate?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” you said. “And you’re mine?”

He nodded and you felt your insides burst. You knew everything would work out. Fred Weasley was meant to be with you. Slowly, you leaned in toward him, tilting your head to the side and licking your lips slightly.

Fred moved back.

“Freddie?” you asked, wondering why he was hesitating.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Look, Y/N, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad it’s you. I think that some day the two of us would make a great couple! We already know so much about each other and we’re so comfortable with each other that I’d be surprised if my soulmate was someone else. But…”

There it was. The but. Everything was supposed to be perfect today, it was all supposed to come together. What was going on?

“But…” he continued, “ we’re young. And we’re destined to spend our whole lives together, so, why don’t we just...put a pin in it?”

“Put a pin in it?” you asked unbelievingly.

“Sorry,” he said, “wrong choice of words. What I’m saying is, we have plenty of time. Why rush into things? How about you do your thing and I’ll do mine, and then when we’re older we can see how things are going. Sound good?”

Your mouth suddenly went dry, hands becoming clammy and tears welling up in your eyes. He wanted you, but not now. He wanted other girls now. But he was your soulmate. It would all work out in the end. It had to.

“Y-yeah,” you said, desperately holding back your tears. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Great!” Fred said, pulling you into a hug. “I knew I could count on you, you’re the best.”

“Mhmm,” you muttered. “The best.”

Fred kept holding you for a few seconds before getting up and running to find out who his twin got for his soulmate. You stayed sitting on the corridor floor, wondering how in the world the best day of your life had suddenly turned into the worst.

No, you chided yourself. This was Fred, and he and you were meant to be together. You’d find your way back to each other someday. You sighed a breath of relief and stood up, wiping away the few teardrops that managed to make their way out. It was ok. It would all be ok.

September 1995

“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You were sitting in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express, waiting for the twins to join you. They arrived looking exceptionally happy and exceptionally good looking. You assumed they must’ve had a very eventful few months.

“Hey!” said George. “It was great. We moved to a house in London for the summer, long story, but Harry and Hermione were there so it kept Ron out of our hair.”

“Yeah, it was fantastic,” said Fred, plopping down in his usual seat next to you and throwing his legs across your lap. “We got to meet so many new people. And so many new girls.”

George and you both stiffened, but Fred was none the wiser.

“There was this one girl,” he continued, “she was so hot. I swear I shagged her on every piece of furniture in that house. What a summer.”

You remained silent, hands folded and your head gazing down at Fred’s feet below you. A part of you thought that maybe he was joking, that maybe he was saying this to get you all worked up and he would ask you out later that day. But one look at George’s guilt-ridden face and you knew exactly what Fred’s summer had consisted of.

Fred looked around as the silence passed, wondering why everyone had suddenly become so quiet. “How about you, Y/N, anything fun happen?”

“Well umm, nothing too exciting,” you said. “Mostly hung out with some old friends, went swimming a lot.” You looked at Fred, wondering if you could get a reaction out of him. “There...there was this one guy.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. There was this one guy, your best friend's cousin, who you had spent a lot of time with in the last three months. You would drive around late at night and get up early to watch the sunset. But one night when he kissed you, you had to pull away. Your heart belonged to Fred, and it felt like cheating to be making out with someone who wasn’t your soulmate. Apparently Fred didn’t have the same sentiment.

“That’s great!” he exclaimed, the complete opposite reaction you were looking for. You had wanted him to get upset, jealous even. But if anything he looked relieved. “See,” he whispered so only you could hear, “I told you this would work out. We each do our own thing and get together in a long while. This is perfect!”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled and leaned back into your seat. George subtly moved forward and put a comforting hand on your knee, letting you know that he understood and he was with you. You gave him a reassuring look. It would be ok. Fred had probably gotten it out of his system over the summer. You could see how things went this year.

February 1996

Gryffindor parties were always the events of the month, rivaled only by Slytherin’s secret and exclusive gatherings. There was everything any teenager needed: food, firewhisky, and sex.

You and Angelina were taking shots in the corner, laughing and stumbling over yourselves. You scanned the crowded common room, eyes focusing on George dancing like a madman in the middle of the room, knocking over a few girls with how wildly he was moving.

You looked at your friend who was gazing lovingly at the ginger boy. “Hey,” you said, “can I ask you something.”

Angelina took her eyes off of George and gave you her full attention. “Of course.”

“When you and George found out you were each other’s soulmates, what happened? I mean, you weren’t dating before but you got together over the summer. Aren’t you worried you’re missing out on other people?”

Your friend knew where this was really coming from. She grabbed you a drink and took you to sit down. “Thing is,” she said, “at first we didn’t want to date. We both kind of thought that we weren’t ready for anything too serious, so we did our own thing for a few months. But we kept writing over the summer and I realized that he’s my best friend and I didn’t want to go any longer without being with him. As much as the both of us hate the concept of settling down, we realized that we don’t have to suddenly turn around and be married. We’re taking it one day at a time, but constantly talking about our relationship and where we think it’s going.”

You nodded, starting to understand. “Are you guys exclusive? Or are you seeing other people as well?”

“We’re exclusive. Like I said we’re nothing serious, but we don’t want to mess up what we have. So far it’s going great, just taking it slow and getting to know each other even more. Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

You muttered a “no” but Angelina didn’t believe you for a second.

“How are things with Fred?” she asked. “Have you two been talking about your relationship?”

“Not really,” you said. “He likes to ignore the fact that we’re soulmates. Nothing has changed since we found out. But it’s ok though, we’re just waiting until we’re ready.”

Your friend watched you take another shot of firewhisky, face scrunching up in distaste. You had looked so sad the past few months, and Angelina knew the reason. “But you’re ready now, aren’t you?”

You whipped your head around, groaning as the quick motion made you dizzy. “What…” you said, holding your throbbing head, “what do you mean?”

“You love him. You have for forever, Y/N, and this must be killing you.”

“No!” you argued. “It’s fine. Fred will tell me when he’s ready for a relationship and we can settle down then.”

“And wreck yourself in the process?” Angelina asked. “Y/N, love, I know that you two are soulmates, but you can’t let him treat you like this! He goes out and does what he wants and who he wants, knowing that you’ll always be there when he’s bored of all the other girls. You’re his fallback.”

Angry tears fell from your face. “I am not!” you yelled. “He loves me, he just doesn’t want anything serious, and I’m ok with that.”

“No you’re not!” she yelled back. “It’s tearing you apart. You need to talk to him.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried!”

Angelina went silent at this new information, watching you finally break down.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried talking to him, explaining that if we’re soulmates then maybe we should act like it. It kills me seeing him bring a different girl back to his dorm every night when he’s supposed to be with me.” You hit your head against the wall behind you hard enough that you knew there would be a bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care. “But every time he gets mad at me, saying that he can’t settle down, that he’s too young, that I’m being selfish and impatient.”

Angelina wrapped you up in a warm hug, stroking the back of your head softly. “Then you need to move on Y/N. If he doesn’t care about your feelings, then I’m sorry but you need to find someone else.”

You sniffled, lifting your gaze and seeing a Ravenclaw girl grinding up on Fred. He whispered something in her ear and dragged her out of the common room and up to his dorm. “I can’t,” you said. “He’s my soulmate. It’s destiny. We’re meant to be together, even if that means I have to break a little every time he’s with someone else. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

Angelina continued to hold you tightly, praying that one day you would see what was really happening.

April 1996

Cheers erupted from hundreds of students, all of whom were crowded in the courtyard, watching their new heroes fly away from Umbridge’s reign of terror. You stood silently on the outskirts of the group, disbelief coursing through you.

How could he leave you? You thought that he would at least tell you about it, at least sit you down and explain the future of your relationship. Would you stay in touch? Would you visit his shop often and hang out with him and George? Where was your friendship, and more importantly your relationship, going?

You pushed your way through the crowd, wanting more than ever to be alone right now. Angelina stopped you, a wide grin on her face. “Y/N! Did you see that? Oh I’ve been waiting weeks for them to finally make their escape, it was even better than I imagined.”

“You…” you said slowly, “you knew? They told you?”

“Of course! George told me a while ago. Didn’t Fred tell you?”

“I have to go,” you muttered, ignoring her calls and running back into the abandoned castle. You made it back to your dorm and threw yourself onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

You’d given Fred the benefit of the doubt so many times. You understood that he wanted to fool around for a while and you let him. But you thought that maybe once school was over things would change. Apparently you would never know, because he didn’t bother to even have a conversation about your future.

You should try to get over him. Yes, two months of no Fred would be perfect for you! You could see other people, something you hadn’t done in over a year, and it would be the perfect distraction.

But then you remembered his warm brown eyes and soft ginger hair. How happy he could make you with just one touch. You couldn’t give up on him, you were being foolish. Fate was never wrong. You just needed to keep waiting. Everything would be fine in time.

January 1997

Small snowflakes fluttered to the ground, the cold crisp air whipping your face as you made your weekly trip to Diagon Alley to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. After you had graduated the first thing you did was run off the train and make your way to the shop. Fred and George were delighted to see you and they immediately talked about their success so far with their planning. Neither you nor Fred brought up what happened months ago.

After the first encounter, things seemed to go back to normal. You got a job at The Ministry involving Curse Breaking, which you enjoyed very much. You’d get up every day excited to go to work, and every Sunday afternoon you’d enter your friends’ shop for a day of talking and goofing around.

And just as things had remained the same, that included your relationship with Fred. He’d mention his different hookups, sometimes going into extreme detail that you really didn’t want to know. You asked him to stop talking about that and he did, but he didn’t stop his actions.

Today was the day you were going to talk with him. You couldn’t keep putting yourself through this heartbreak if it wasn’t going to end any time soon. It was the last chance you were giving him.

“Hey Freddie,” you said as you walked through the shop doors.

“Hey, love, how’s it going?”

“Pretty good, I was wondering if we could talk, somewhere private maybe?”

“Of course,” he replied, taking you up to the loft. You entered the familiar place and plopped down on the couch, hearing the shower running in the bathroom.

“Is George here,” you asked as he brought you a cup of coffee.

“Umm, not exactly,” Fred replied sheepishly. “The bathroom’s currently occupied by the person who occupied my time last night, if you know what I mean.”

You did. Your face turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger you didn’t know, hearing that the girl Fred hooked up with was just a room away from you. Gathering up all the strength you could, you finally told him everything you’d been holding back.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

“My hookups?” Fred asked quizzically. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about those.”

“No,” you said shaking your head. “I wanted to talk about us. And where we’re going in the future.”

Fred groaned and threw his head back on the couch, rubbing his temple. “Oh not this again, Y/N. I thought we agreed that we’re too young for anything serious.”

“Well when I said that, I thought you meant that we’d finish out school and see where things went after that. We’re bloody adults now, shouldn’t we be talking about where we want this to go?” You were growing angry, not expecting Fred to be so blunt and rude about your feelings.

“I’m still 18, Y/N! I’m not ready for anything yet.”

“And when will you be? You keep saying you’re not ready and I keep staying by your side, waiting for that moment when you finally decide you love me. So when’s it gonna be, huh? Am I wasting my time?”

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “You’re being so annoying right now, why can’t we just be friends and figure it out when we get there?”

“Because I’m tired of giving you every part of me when you give me nothing in return! I...I can’t do this anymore.”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“I--excuse me?”

Fred stood up, gesturing for you to follow him. “How about we spend some time away from each other? You can work out whatever feelings you want to, and when I’m ready to settle down I’ll come find you.”

You were speechless, absolutely dumbfounded. Fred couldn’t be serious, could he? He’d come find you, like you were some lost puppy that belonged to him?

Fred grabbed your shoulders and gave you a peck on the forehead. “We’re soulmates, baby. There’s no rush for anything. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

This was it. This was what Angelina had warned you about. He was so comfortable knowing that you'd have to end up together that he didn’t bother to put in the effort. He knew no matter how many times he messed up, you would always be right around the corner ready to jump into his waiting arms. This was the last chance you had given him, and he blew it.

“I’ll just be going then,” you said, grabbing your things.

You stormed out of the room but Fred didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. Or maybe he did notice and he just didn’t care. You would always come back to him, wouldn’t you?

“Love ya, Y/N,” he called before turning his attention to the wet girl who was exiting his bathroom.

You left the loft in a hurry, not even bothering to say hi to George on the way out of the shop. You used to believe in fate and destiny, and deep down you still did. But you couldn’t keep counting on the universe to provide you with happiness when only one of you was putting in the effort. Almost two years of pining later, you decided it was time to move on.

May 1999

Fred slowly came down from his high, panting heavily and groaning in pleasure. He rolled off of the girl he was with this week, a cute blonde he had met at a bar, and stared up at the ceiling trying to catch his breath.

It was a good ride. It was always good, Fred prided himself in his abilities and the girls he was with were usually just as spectacular. But the past few months he had been growing tired of it.

Sure, he loved going out and meeting hot girls, dancing with them and bringing them back to his place for one night of lust and passion. But even that gets old after a while, and after years of thinking with his body, he was finally ready to think with his head and his heart. He was ready to see you.

The next day, Fred got dressed up, putting on a nice sweater and trousers, buying a bouquet of roses from a nearby flower shop. He hadn’t contacted you to let you know he was coming. He wanted it to be a surprise, and besides, you would definitely be thrilled to see him.

He made his way to your old place, hoping that you still lived there. He hadn’t seen you in over two years, not since the two of you decided to stop seeing each other until Fred was ready. And now, after long last, he was.

He knocked on the door of your apartment, bouncing on his toes in anticipation of seeing you for the first time in so long. He bet you’d gotten even hotter, and were somehow even kinder and funnier than you were before. To his surprise, it wasn’t you who opened the door, but a familiar face from back in his school days.

“Pucey?”

Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin in your year, was standing in the doorway, with ruffled hair and a bear chest with gray sweatpants. He smiled apprehensively at Fred, remembering how the two of them had never gotten along back in school.

“Hey Fred. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my soulmate,” Fred said, anger and jealousy evident in his tone.

Adrian paused and his smile vanished. He looked as if he wanted to slam the door in Fred’s face and never see him again. Fred then heard a voice calling from inside, and he peaked around to see you sprawled out on the couch wrapped up in a blanket.

“Adrian? Who’s there?” you asked.

“Babe, you might want to come see for yourself.”

Fred grimaced at the nickname. Any suspicions he had that you were dating Adrian were now confirmed, and he hated seeing you with anyone else.

As you reached the door you looked shocked to see Fred there, holding a large bouquet of flowers for you. “Why don’t you head back in, love,” you said to your boyfriend. “I’ll handle this.”

He smiled and pecked you lips, giving Fred one last glare before letting you shut yourself and Fred out in the hallway.

“It’s been a while,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Fred said, trying to hand you the roses but you refused, “I was thinking last night. About us, and about how I’m ready. To be with you.”

If he thought you were going to be elated about this news and drop everything, including your boyfriend, to be with him, he was completely wrong. You just stood there, looking if anything sad for him. “Oh Freddie.”

“What?” he asked, heart thumping in his chest. “What does that mean? I said I’m ready to settle down! To be with you. Isn’t that what you want?”

You scoffed, putting your hand on your temple like he did to you so any years before. “Look, I’m flattered, and I’m glad you’re finally ready to have something real. But it’s not going to be with me.”

Fred could physically feel his heart shatter into a million pieces at those words. “Not with you? What does that even mean, Y/N? We’re bloody soulmates!”

“Yeah well you didn’t seem to care about us being soulmates the countless times I wanted to talk to you about it!”

“I wasn’t ready then!”

“But I was! And you didn’t even take my feelings into consideration. I was constantly by your side, waiting for you to confess your feelings and ask me to be yours. Every day I broke a little more, because you treated me like absolute shit. So I’m done waiting Fred. I’ve moved on”

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be in love with him! The two of you were soulmates for a reason, how could you just settle down with someone else?

“What about Adrian’s soulmate?” he asked, voicing his thoughts. “Aren’t you depriving him of true love?”

You sighed heavily and looked at the closed door behind you, lowering your voice. “Adrian’s soulmate died a few years ago. She got really sick and didn’t make it. I ran into him while he was trying to get over her loss, and we really connected. We’ve been together for about a year now, and we’re both really happy.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Fred said, pacing up and down the hall. “We’re soulmates Y/N. The universe destined us to be together.”

Shaking your head you replied, telling Fred the conclusion you had come to after years of pain. “I don’t think it works like that. Soulmates aren’t two people who are going to be together no matter what happens. They’re two souls who, if they both contribute and try in the relationship, would make a perfect pair. But you, Fred, never tried. And I finally got over it. I love Adrian, and I’m happy about my decision.”

“No, no no no,” Fred said, growing panicked. “This can’t be it, Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

“You already did.”

Fred’s lip quivered slightly, eyes searching yours for any telltale sign that this was a joke. Some huge, elaborate prank. But it wasn’t. It took you a lot of time and soul searching, but you were at peace. You were fine without your soulmate, because for so many years he had been fine without you.

“Let me go, Freddie. Because I let you go a long time ago.”

The two of you stood there, all feelings out in the open. Fred had never felt so vulnerable around someone, and he never thought once that he would have to let you go.

The door slowly creaked open and Adrian stepped back out, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You alright, darling?”

You kept looking at Fred, imagining all of the things that could’ve been, that never would be. “Yeah, I’m fine. Fred was just leaving.”

You turned around to your apartment, not even bothering to look back. Before you shut the door, Fred could see a beautiful smile grace your lips at something Adrian had said. You were happy. He was making you happy.

In a perfect world, you and Fred would be an ideal match. If both of you put in the effort and tried for the best, you’d have the best relationship possible. It was fate.

But fate is a fickle thing. You can’t try to trick destiny into doing what you want. Fred had thought that no matter what he did, the universe would give him what he believed he deserved. The universe doesn’t work like that.

Maybe, if he had taken some form of responsibility for his actions and actually cared about what was happening in the moment, it could’ve been him cuddling up next to you, falling asleep with his arms around you and hearing how much you loved him. But he didn’t. He tested fate, and he would forever pay the price for his actions.

Tag List: @famdomhideout

#lovepeachh600writingchallenge #abby's week of weasley #fredweasley #fred #fredweasleyfic #georgeweasley #george weasley #soulmates #soulmate au #harry potter #hogwarts #weasleys wizard wheezes #fred weasley

203 notes · View notes

theydontknowaboutusimagines · 3 years

Text

A Grammy Kind of Night - Harry Styles One Shot

It was music’s biggest night and you were looking forward to it. With everything going on, it had been so long since you’ve on a stage, so knowing you would be able to perform that night was worth it. However, with the award show coming up, it also brought on a new topic of discussion.

“Sooo, what do you think?” You asked your boyfriend of the last year.

“About?” He asked, pulling out ingredients for breakfast.

“You weren’t listening were you?” You groaned.

“I’m sorry! I’m distracted and sleepy,” he whined.

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway, I was talking about tonight.”

“What about it?” He asked looking over at you.

“If the cameras see us together, people are going to speculate and eventually find out we’re together,” you pointed out. “I mean we’re already performing during the same segment of the show, so there’s bound to be a glimpse of us watching the other.”

“People are eventually going to know about us,” he said. “Tonight’s a big night for the both of us, so I want you by my side. I don’t care what comes from it. We’ve been together for a year now, so who the fuck cares.”

“Really?” You smiled.

“Yes, you’re my girlfriend, why would I want to be at the same event, but not go anywhere near you,” he said, reaching out and putting his arms around your waist.

“Aww, you love me, huh?” You giggled.

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Fuck you!” You laughed, pushing him away.

He laughed pulling you back into his arms and giving you a quick kiss.

Once you were at the venue, you and Harry did decide on not walking the red carpet together. Simply because you two knew that would spark things from get go and you didn’t want to take away from the performances and what now. Plus, it seemed too “Official.” You didn’t mind anyone knowing about you being together, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were making a big deal about it.

After walking the red carpet, it was time to get changed and ready for your performance. You were oddly nervous, but you knew it was mostly excitement. You were a little nervous for Harry because you could tell he was stressing a bit. Not only is it his first Grammy Award Show, but he’s also opening the show.

When you were ready to go, you snuck over to Harry’s dressing room and knocked on the door.

Harry L opened the door and smirked, “Trying to sneak a peek?”

“It’s not sneaking if it’s my boyfriend,” you smirked, pushing past him.

He laughed shaking his head following behind you. When you walked into the room, you saw your boyfriend putting on his leather jacket and only a leather jacket.

“Are you seriously rocking the no shirt and leather jacket look right now?” You giggled.

“I am,” he smirked. “Got a problem with it?”

“A slight one,” you walked over to him.

“And what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That I would love to take advantage of that bed over there,” you smirked.

“Might I remind you, you’re in a room full of people?” Jeff coughed.

“There’s always the bathroom,” you joked.

“Now, I’ve got a slight problem,” Harry laughed.

“Y/N, you look good, by the way,” Harry L smirked.

“Thank you for bringing this outfit to my attention,” you said.

“You’re welcome,” he smirked.

“He’s right though, you look very good,” Harry smiled. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you smiled kissing his cheek.

The two of you walked over to the venue and proceeded to get to your part of the stage. The setup was weird, but actually really cool. Each artist that was set to perform in the first little bit of the show, were all on the same stage, but each had their own stages within the main stage. Harry just so happened to be right next to you and you know Ben strategically made that happen.

Having been to multiple Grammy Award Shows, you had a differently feeling this go around in terms of the focus on the music and performances. Usually, it’s all about the awards, but it was nice to focus on the music that got a lot of people through the last year.

While you waited for the show to start, Harry kept looking over at you and making faces. You rolled your eyes with a laugh, but you could tell the energy was pumping through he was ready to just get started. You think he was more nervous for the performance than his awards.

Speaking of awards, you were also nominated in those same categories, along with Song, Record, and album of the year. So, you knew there was some low-key competition between the two of you, which honestly you didn’t mind.

You just got the warning the show was about to begin. Everyone got in their places and you saw Harry taking a deep breath. He looked over at you, just before his performance, you smiled, gave him a thumbs up and said, “You got this!”

He smiled and it was go time.

During the performance, you smiled and discreetly danced around as you watched him. You giggled a bit when he started dancing and you were so proud of him knowing he was having the time of his life. After his performance, he glanced over at you and had the biggest smile on his face, and you returned one to match.

When it was your turn, Harry immediately turned towards your stage, his eyes glued to you. The song you were performing was an acoustic set, so it was literally just you and your guitar. Since there wasn’t a crowd, you could be heard perfectly and you got lost in the song. At the end, Harry smirked and cheered you on, whistling and clapping as you waved to the camera and did a little bow.

Now that the performances were over, it was time to head to the tables ned the award stage. You and Harry had changed back into your previous outfits and made your way to your table. The glances your way didn’t go unnoticed, but you tried not to pay attention to them.

Harry pulled out your chair for you to sit and he sat next to you. Jeff and your manager sat at a table nearby and you looked over at them.

“Sorry to take your place, Jeff,” you smirked.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he said back.

You laughed taking a sip of your drink. About halfway through the show, you took out your phone and looked at social media. Just like you thought many have picked up on you and Harry. Between how you two were during the other’s performance and now sitting at the same table, plus there was a video of Harry whispering in your ear and you laughing, that was sending everything into a whirlwind.

But surprisingly, everyone seemed to be here for you and Harry being together. You smiled showing Harry a few of the comments and he smiled back.

“Told you,” he smiled.

As the night went on and it got closer to announcing your and Harry’s categories, you could tell he was getting nervous again. You reached over taking his hand in yours.

“And the Grammy for Best Pop Solo Performance goes to.. Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles,” the presenter announced.

Harry’s face is pure shock along with yours. He doesn’t move for a bit and you have to push him a bit.

“Go, you won. Babe, go get your Grammy,” you giggled.

Finally standing up, you stand up with him as he gives you the biggest hug and Jeff comes up behind and wraps his arms around the two of you. You giggle and jump around a bit before letting Harry finally go up to grab his Grammy.

Jeff takes Harry’s seat as you two watch and listen to him give his speech. You even took out your phone to take pictures and send to Anne and Gemma.

“He did it,” Jeff smiled.

“Yeah, he did,” you smiled.

Once Harry was, you could tell it didn’t matter what happened the rest of the night because he already won. So, when you ended up taking home the Grammy for Best Pop Album, he didn’t even care that he didn’t win it.

But now it was the last two awards of the night, Album and Record of the year, you didn’t win for Song of the Year, so you weren’t sure what would come out of these last two.

“And the Grammy for Album of the Year goes to... Y/N for Y/Album/Name!” the presenter says.

Your face goes into deer in the headlights mode and this time it’s Harry who’s nudging you to get up.

“Baby! You won! You fucking won!” He laughed.

You get out of your chair hugging Harry tightly, who also gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before letting you go up on the stage. You take the Grammy and stand in front of the mic, ready to give your speech, when you noticing something.

“We hate to interrupt you, but we thought you should know you’re also taking home the Grammy for Record of the Year,” the presenter smiles bringing out another Grammy.

Next thing you know, you hear ridiculous cheering and shouting coming from Harry, Jeff, and your manager as you give your speech.

When the show was over and the two of you had to go to the Press Room, it was during that time you got an idea. An idea you weren’t too sure about, but you were too happy to not do it. You took a photo together with each of your Grammy’s and posted it on social media with this caption...

“Just another Sunday night for this Grammy Award Winning Couple.”

Which eventually became the fastest picture to reach over 1M likes and shares and the most talked about that night and you couldn’t be happier.

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles One Shots #Harry Styles Fanfics #Harry Styles Fan Fics

150 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Forest National in Brussels, Belgium - August 24, 1984

Some parts of the Hammer To Fall promo video were filmed during this show - the camera was filming the audience reactions during TYMD, Radio Ga Ga and Hammer To Fall. On the next day 20 fans from the Dutch fan club were invited to come again to the filming of the promo video.

At the gig, the band asked the audience to return the following day for the shoot. However, most likely assuming it was all a joke, the vast majority stayed away; in fact only a dozen fans turned up. Undeterred, the shoot went ahead anyway, with the band's performance that day interspersed with footage shot the previous night.

(x)

This is the first show of The Works tour.

According to the July '89 issue of Record Collector, Queen ran through about 40 songs during rehearsals. This list of songs rehearsed that didn't end up in the setlist comes from someone who worked on the tour:

Great King Rat (longer version), Brighton Rock (full song), I'm In Love With My Car, Sweet Lady, White Man, We Will Rock You (fast), Play The Game, Need Your Loving Tonight, Put Out The Fire, Las Palabras de Amor, Life Is Real (both Freddie solo piano and Freddie/Brian acoustic duet versions)

The keyboardist for this tour (and also the '86 Magic tour) is session musician Spike Edney. He would also lend some vocals to many songs and play rhythm guitar in Hammer To Fall. He and Roger Taylor would form a band called "The Cross" in 1987 which spawned three albums, and he would return to Queen in the 21st century to play on the tours with Paul Rodgers and Adam Lambert.

Spike was recruited in a very informal way by a Queen associate. He went to Munich for their first rehearsal in early August, wound up partying for most of the first night, and missed the first day's rehearsal. It later transpired that everyone else had. He recalls, "The next day, we all managed to get to it eventually, to the first rehearsal, and all the gear was set up. The stage was huge, and I thought "Oh well, here we go then" and we got to the first song , and what I'd forgotten was that they hadn't actually played together for two years. So they said, OK, let's try one of the new songs, I think it was Radio Ga Ga, and we started playing it, and course, I knew it, I'd been studying it for weeks. You know, 1,2,3,4 and we start and we get about a minute into the song and the whole thing collapses. And they all look at each other, you know, very sheepishly, and they say, "Anyone know how it goes?" and I say "well, actually, I know. I know how it goes" and they said "Ah". And so I started showing them the chords and everything and Fred looked at me and said "You don't know the words, do you?" and "Well, yeah I do actually" so then they all came round the piano and we spent the whole day just going through songs, and I thought, "I'm gonna be all right here, this'll be OK"!"

The show started very late, as the band were still doing soundcheck when they were supposed to go on. Apparently over the previous week there were few occasions when all four band members actually showed up for rehearsal. Many songs (likely those listed above) never made the setlist, and soundcheck was an extensive cramming session, particularly for the older material that they hadn't played in years.

Roger Taylor later reflected that this European tour was one of his favourites, and many fans cite the early Works setlist as their favourite ever played by the band. Three medleys are now played, two of which have revived many old songs: Killer Queen, Seven Seas Of Rhye, Keep Yourself Alive, Liar, Stone Cold Crazy and Great King Rat. Staying Power from Hot Space returns to the set, as does Sheer Heart Attack from News Of The World. Only half of Staying Power is played, and it runs into Dragon Attack, followed by an improvisation running into a more compact version of Now I'm Here compared to previous tours.

Many people who attended shows on this tour recall Queen having a very heavy sound, especially on songs like Liar and Stone Cold Crazy. By 1984 they had gained a reputation as being one of the best live rock acts in the business.

Six songs from The Works are performed each night, and the introduction tape is from the album track "Machines". After the heavy G chords are heard on the tape twice, the band walk on stage in the darkness to play the chords the third time, which leads into the brand new "Tear It Up". This is yet another effective opening to a Queen show, something they would perfect time and time again.

I Want To Break Free is performed each night in 1984-85 as the first encore, with Freddie coming on stage sporting a pair of huge plastic breasts under a pink shirt. Part way through the song, he would remove the breasts and twirl them around for a while before finally throwing them into the audience. Some souvenir! As a result of this gag, Another One Bites The Dust has been moved from the encore to be earlier in the set.

This tour showcases an incredible lighting rig and an overall setup mimics the movie Metropolis, from which scenes were used for the promo video of Radio Ga Ga last year. The huge wheels behind the stage (modelled after the ones on The Works album cover) rotate at mostly random times - usually because they are turned manually by various crew members such as Roger's tech Chris "Crystal" Taylor whenever they have a free moment (Freddie Mercury's assistant Peter Freestone told the tale in 2021):

“Yeah, I mean Rio was… amazing. The feeling from that crowd… you know, something like 350,000 people. Oh, you can’t beat that. And when you’re flying in a helicopter over that crowd, it was stunning. But the thing is, I know this sounds really, really stupid but [laughs]… one thing I will always, always remember from that tour was, remember, in the back of the stage you had these wheels that turned every now and then, not constantly but just every now and then. That was because there was… the guy looking after Roger’s drums and me who actually turned those wheels. And there was no set cue or anything that, “Oh, it has to start on this bar, on this song.” No, it was when he wasn’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, we’d say “Ok, let’s go and do it.” And we turned the wheels for a couple of minutes and then left them alone. He had then to do something for Roger and I would just sit there like I always did. And then you’d go back and you’d turn the wheels, like a hamster. We were like hamsters…”

However, a crew member who worked on the tour recalls otherwise: "I do know local crew members were used on the UK shows and certainly (a number of) European gigs. The other thing is that Radio Ga Ga had a set piece with the cogs and lighting, using low ambient lighting and strobes to emphasise mechanical motion of the cogs during the instrumental break. Would Roger Taylor be happy with no one covering him/his kit during a show? Possibly Peter Freestone is remembering production rehearsals when any spare bodies might have been asked to operate the cogs?"

During vocal improvisations on this tour, Freddie would often include bits of "Foolin' Around" and "Living On My Own" from his pending first solo album, which he had been working on during this period.

Freddie now plays a Telecaster for Crazy Little Thing Called Love. It would remain like this through the Magic tour.

The band no longer bring a gong with them on the road. Roger now does a cymbal roll at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody.

A fan recalls hearing the band running through Tear It Up whilst queuing up to enter the venue.

Freddie's voice is in superb shape for this show, but it will quickly weaken as the tour progresses. As incredible as Freddie Mercury was, he certainly did not take care of his voice at times, especially in the mid-80s. After a couple years of heavy smoking, Freddie's voice now sounds a lot deeper and raspier overall.

Before It's A Hard Life, Freddie says, "I think tonight we're gonna do songs from just about every album that we've ever made. You heard some very early stuff from the first album. Right now I think we're gonna do something very new, and we'll see what you think of it."

Freddie does a vocal exchange with the audience before Staying Power, singing "Get Down Make Love" and "Gimme Some Lovin" a few times. The band would improvise bits of the latter a couple times in 1986.

This is the only show on the entire Works tour where Roger plays regular acoustic drums on Another One Bites The Dust (before which Freddie teases the audience with a bit of Mustapha). For the rest of the tour, he'd play electronic drums. He'd also integrate the electronic drum kit into a few other songs, like at the beginning of Hammer To Fall, where one might argue that his sounds don't appropriately complement the guitar to create the intense, heavy sound.

The band sound very tight on this opening night of the tour, with the only exception being the rough transition from Stone Cold Crazy to Great King Rat. The keyboard and guitar solos are integrated together for the first few shows of the tour, during which Brian plays a few bits from Machines. Spike Edney uses his vocoder (a Roland VP-330) for the "machines" and "back to humans" lines heard throughout the tour during this spot (he would use his vocoder for the "radio" lines in Radio Ga Ga as well). After this segment, Brian then gets a few minutes to play on his own as usual.

Parts of the promo video for Hammer To Fall were filmed during this show. Claims from some (even official) sources state that Freddie invited the audience back for (what would actually be "additional") filming the following day aren't true. Here is all that Freddie had to say before the song: "This next song we're gonna use in our next video. So everybody just go mad and maybe later you'll see one of you guys inside the video one day. Oh, just go crazy, take your clothes off. It's called Hammer To Fall." After the song, he simply says, "Good night, you guys!" as that was the last song of the set.

Here is a fan's recollection: "On the night of the gig, there was a camera mounted on an arm that would swing over the front rows of the audience during a few songs. These audience shots were taken during Tie Your Mother Down, Radio Ga Ga, and Hammer To Fall itself. I guess they also had a camera up in the box at the back of the hall [as there are a few shots of both the audience and the band]. I don't remember any cameras onstage during the gig - just the one mounted on the arm."

The Dutch fan club invited only about twenty of its members to attend the video shoot the next day. They were instructed by a roadie to sit quietly on a chair and not to move or approach the band members. After a few hours, Brian came over and had a chat with them, checking to see if they were enjoying themselves and if they were hungry. He then promptly ordered them some take-out!

A minute of Tie Your Mother Down from this show was later broadcast on the Belgian TV station "RTBF" (x) (x). An audience-shot video allegedly exists as well, containing five songs.

After years of speculation, the existence of more footage from this show was proven when bits of it were included in the promo video for Let Me In Your Heart Again in 2014. About 30 seconds of Somebody To Love (largely crowd shots) were seen. There is, however, no accompanying audio. (x)

The first photo is from the autumn 1984 Queen fan club magazine. Brian is seen with a watchful eye over the proceedings. Tour manager Gerry Stickells and his wife are also in the shot.

Pics 2 through 6 were submitted by Alessio Rizzitelli, and the seventh pic was taken by Dave Matkin.

(x)

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

36 notes · View notes

timothy-chamlet · 4 years

Text

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends.

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows.

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you.

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you.

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling.

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude.

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress.

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question.

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie."

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you.

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling."

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo.

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you.

"yeah, just.. tired."

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours."

"i thought the awards show was only 4-"

"there's always the afterparty.."

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee.

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle.

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets people.

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face.

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star.

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention.

"bring it in hot stuff!"

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since.

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in.

"oh god no-"

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation.

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations."

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later.

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile.

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!"

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me."

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend.

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?"

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk.

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically.

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face.

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance."

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?"

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?"

"i dunno- go to my place?"

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house.

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you.

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed.

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers.

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice.

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.."

"us?-"

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg.

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up.

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?"

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face.

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours.

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move.

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt.

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other.

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath.

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more.

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response.

"please… please what, mon amour?"

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice.

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him.

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core.

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss.

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!”

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-”

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.”

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep.

1K notes · View notes

uglypastels · 4 years

Text

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it also shoutout to @duskholland for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40 for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE)

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!”

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in.

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always.

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either.

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine.

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone.

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion.

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home.

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot.

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable.

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo.

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting.

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out.

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed.

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform.

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall.

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name.

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up.

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?”

“A beer?” you said it more like a question.

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up.

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him.

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you.

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again.

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already.

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along.

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.”

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon.

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready.

“A bit of everything, I suppose.”

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you.

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you.

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet.

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one.

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming.

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before.

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow.

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker.

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.”

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect.

“Here’s one you all should know.”

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song.

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too.

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you?

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went.

“It was only a kiss”

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else.

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly.

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words.

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years…

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot.

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch.

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like.

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course.

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself.

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees.

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute.

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option.

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men. It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen.

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised.

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing?

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line-

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable.

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song.

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good?

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end.

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing.

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions.

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly.

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone.

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry.

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot.

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom…

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music.

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks.

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought.

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage.

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!”

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up.

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice.

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate.

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him.

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point.

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?”

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it.

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom.

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?”

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter.

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one.

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked.

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well.

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.”

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.”

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly.

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.”

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely.

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you.

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you.

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement.

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!”

“You know him?” you asked, surprised.

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically.

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her?

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off.

“Broccoli, baby. I know.”

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted.

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter.

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine.

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right?

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent.

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything.

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell.

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad.

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment.

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained.

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb.

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right?

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat.

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up.

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn.

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink.

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered.

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head.

“You’re interesting, you know that?”

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position.

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like.

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?”

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner.

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously.

“So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though.

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically.

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake.

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?”

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard?

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter.

“How so?” you choked out.

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”?

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.”

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question.

“No one there was as cute as you.”

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts.

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”.

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night.

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake.

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.”

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt.

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye.

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2!

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @starkeybabie @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @perspectiveparker @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions @fallinfortom @londonspidey @spidey-reids-2003 @hollandcreep

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #band!au #drummer!tom holland #smut #tom holland smut #strangers to lovers #au

424 notes · View notes

twiistedgalaxies · 3 years

Text

Three Times Jaskier Didn’t Seem Quite Human

(And one time Geralt asked too many questions.)

“Jaskier isn’t human,” Yennefer stated bluntly, swishing a wine glass in her right hand.

Geralt blinked, “What?” This gave Yennefer pause. She knew that her on and off again lover was oblivious, but she hadn’t realized it was quite to this extent. Jaskier gave her a pained, pleading look from the other end of the table. She ignored him.

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” she continued with a huff.

“...No?” Geralt’s brows furrowed together in confusion. The nerve of these idiots. Yennefer had half a mind to just state the obvious, to keep these two from continuing to dance around the subject, possibly until the end of time.

But it was much more fun to gently direct Geralt to the answer and watch his bard squirm. Yennefer took a sip of her wine, mentally cursing her high alcohol tolerance, “You’ve been travelling with the man for decades,” Geralt’s face was blank, the puzzle pieces not fitting into place, “He hasn’t aged, Geralt.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he protested, though from the way his eyes shifted towards his companion he was clearly thinking it over. If they were not at such a high profile party Yennefer would have strangled him. He opened his mouth to say something else, but it was at that exact moment that Jaskier decided to pick up his lute and perform for the crowd - granted, it was what he had been invited to do, but Yennefer sent him a withering glare anyways. She was met with a cheeky wink. Oh if looks could kill.

“I could prove it to you, you know? A few well placed detection spells and-”

Geralt shook his head, “He’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

“You two are hopeless,” Yennefer sighed.

-@~*^*~@-

It had been after a particularly difficult hunt, when Jaskier had to dress his companion’s wounds for the umpteenth time. Geralt sat upon a stool in the center of their tiny room at the inn. He looked more irritated than usual as Jaskier gave him what was essentially a sponge bath around where a kikimore had stabbed his shoulder with one of it’s spindly arms. Jaskier winced, it was too close to important organs for comfort. Humming as he worked, Jaskier tried to stitch shut what he could and thoroughly bandage the rest. The wolf medallion on Geralt’s chest thrummed contentedly each time the bard’s delicate hands drew near.

“Where did you learn?” he asked suddenly, his gruff voice cutting through the peaceful quiet.

“Hm?” Jaskier hummed, ignoring the Witcher’s grunt of pain as he applied one of his many salves to his shoulder, “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, dear.”

“The salves, the stitching, all of it,” Jaskier raised an eyebrow at that, but Geralt continued, “It’s a very odd skill for a bard to have.”

A laugh, Geralt had to bite back a hiss as Jaskier’s touches grew less gentle. He clearly wanted him to drop it. “What? Do you think that I was helpless before you came along with your bulging muscles and witchery glares?”

The witcher shook his head, silver hair sending droplets of water in the air, “No it’s not that,” the bard had certainly proved capable and skilled many times over, “It’s just, were you a healer before you became a bard?”

Jaskier froze, seemingly caught in a memory, “Something like that,” he began to bandage Geralt’s shoulder, “This kikimore did quite the number on you, didn’t it?”

Geralt gave him a look of disbelief because obviously.

“Come on, come on, give me the details, I can’t write my ballads off of just grunts and intrusive questions now can I?”

-@~*^*~@-

Jaskier had tagged along on what was supposed to be a minor contract. Nilfgaard had stormed a small town, leaving destruction and countless corpses in their wake. Corpses that were perfect for every Alghoul in a three mile radius.

He and Geralt were engaged in their usual banter (which consisted mostly of Jaskier rambling about whatever was on his mind, punctuated with the occasional grunt from his witcher), when a sudden, piercing screech rang through the air. It was high pitched, shrill, and caused Jaskier to clutch his head as he let out a groan of pain.

Meanwhile, Geralt immediately leapt into action, drawing his silver sword as a pack of the necrophages surrounded them. He was able to take out several, his sword and the ghouls creating a smooth, gory dance. It all seemed to be going well before an Alghoul caught Geralt off guard, leaping onto his back while extending its spines. This sent Geralt off balance, and he was quickly overwhelmed. His sword got knocked out of his hands in the scuffle and he thought that this, however stupid it may be, would be what would kill him.

A cry of rage. Slashing, tearing. Suddenly the weight that was dragging Geralt to the ground grew lighter. He felt something wet and sticky. Geralt looked up to see Jaskier standing over him, holding Geralt’s silver sword, out of breath, and covered in Alghoul viscera.

The bard looked down at himself, annoyance on his admittedly handsome features, “That was my favorite tunic too!” The tunic in question, once baby blue (like his eyes which were now flashing gold, what the fuck?) was now stained red and black. Jaskier brushed a bit of entrails off his shoulder, visibly disgusted.

“Huh?” Geralt said, intelligently.

-@~*^*~@-

The pair was making their way north, Jaskier strumming on his lute and Geralt sat atop Roach. The dirt road was a tunnel bordered by a wall of towering trees, whose orange and red canopies blocked out the sun, casting the duo in dappled shade.

Jaskier strummed a few chords in the major key, before he spoke, “Geralt, are you doing alright?” His face was soft and forget-me-not eyes distant like they often grew when he was lost in thought. Geralt shot him a confused look. “It’s just that, you’ve seemed rather distracted lately.”

“Hm?”

“I,” Jaskier sighed, collecting himself, “It’s just with the kikimore and the alghouls, and just last week when you forgot your potions in Roach’s saddlebags. I’ve never seen you get like this before, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Geralt replied, gaze sliding to anywhere but his bard.

Jaskier reached up, intertwining his lithe fingers with Geralt’s own, “I’m worried about you, Love.”

Geralt huffed, he could never resist the man’s pouting lips and puppy-dog eyes, “Yen and I had a conversation at that party a few months ago.”

He felt the bard tense, “Is that so?” There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. Jaskier must have realized Geralt, man of few words that he is, wasn’t going to elaborate any further, so he spoke, “What did you two talk about?”

“She said you aren’t human and I just thought about it more and… it makes too much sense,” Geralt began, feeling awkward as he tried to find the words to explain, “The way you don’t age, your medical knowledge (even of witcher potions!), how you know your way around a sword and how your eyes gleamed-”

“Geralt, as you know I have an impeccable skincare routine and-”

He frowned, “Don’t give me that shit, bard.”

Jaskier sighed, “You really want to know?” A nod. “Okay, well, here goes nothing.” The bard let go of the witcher’s hand, and pulled off a golden ring that, now that Geralt thought about it, he had never seen the man without. A shimmer fell over the bard’s body, like a statue being unveiled. The first thing Geralt noticed was his eyes, they were a sickening, piercing yellow. His face was marred by countless scars, from claws, burns, knives, and magic. Jaskier’s build underneath the glamour more closely resembled Geralt’s, though he retained his shorter stature. The bard smiled sardonically at the witcher’s shocked expression, “Like what you see?”

Geralt’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, “How?”

“You’d probably know me better as Julian,” Jaskier’s eyes got that distant look to them again, his face was downcast, an unusual expression for someone who typically embodied sunshine, “I was in the Griffin school, before we were attacked,” a joyless laugh, “I had never wanted to be a witcher, ya know? Wasn’t cut out for it. But my father, Viscount Pankratz himself, couldn’t pay a witcher for his contract, so he offered me up instead. I failed as a noble, so maybe I wouldn’t fail as a witcher. He was wrong, of course, I spent most of my time writing poems instead of studying Signs. Singing instead of sparring. After the trials I spent a few years on the path before I grew sick of it and returned to Kaer Seren.”

Geralt hummed, encouraging Jaskier to continue.

“I was made to look after the students, I had to patch up their wounds and keep them from blowing themselves up with alchemy. I loved the little rascals, which is why..” Jaskier trailed off, fingers tracing the grooves in his lute.

“It’s okay,” Geralt said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head hurriedly, “No, no I want to, I have to,” his voice cracked, “I left after the trials killed them. All of them. I couldn’t bear to be a part of it. A part of everything. So I ran, like a coward,” He spat out that last word like a curse.

The pair stopped. Geralt placed his gloved hand on the bard’s shoulder, a rare gesture of affection and reassurance.

“Eventually, I found a mage and spent my life’s savings on a well-made glamour and the lute the elves at Posada so lovingly destroyed. It wasn’t until I had graduated from Oxenfurt that I found out what happened in Kaer Seren.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Geralt asked, his voice gentle.

Jaskier’s face flushed red with shame, “I was afraid. Afraid of what you would think of me. That you’d hate me.”

Geralt frowned, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

At that, Jaskier laughed, “Just look at me! I’m an ugly fuck-up.”

“No,” Geralt said resolutely.

“Huh?”

“I said no. Do you know how many times you’ve saved my life? Made long nights on the path easier to bear? I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you,” Geralt continued, looking Jaskier directly in the eyes. He didn’t reply to that, just slipped his ring back on and hugged his arms to his chest.

The rest of the day’s journey was spent in silence.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment, I love hearing feedback. I had one hell of a time writing this, I originally had only written the first scene, and it took a few months for my single window's screensaver brain cell to finally hit a corner and figure out how to continue and finish the story.

Ao3

#The Witcher #The Witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #fic #ao3 #ff.net #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher!jaskier #feral jaskier #yennefer #dandelion #netflix #non-human jaskier

191 notes · View notes

plaidbooks · 3 years

Text

Nicknames and Slumps - “The Big Leagues” baseball AU

(moodboard by @witches-unruly-heart)

A/N: Here’s chapter 2 of the Baseball AU! I know I mentioned some chapters going towards the Summer Bingo--and they will--but I wanted to establish Sonny in this universe a little bit, first. This chapter takes place in the off season, and the beginning to Sonny’s second season of pitching for the Mets. Like before, feel free to DM me any questions you have about baseball/the AU!

Also, shoutout to @thatesqcrush and her husband for answering my arbitrary Mets questions!

P.S. Aquafresh is a brand of toothpaste

Tags: yelling, otherwise none

Words: 1803

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Sonny’s first year in the majors was almost flawless. Outside of his perfect game in his sixth start, he was dominate; he kept his ERA hovering around the low 1.00’s, and he was still undefeated. He did, however, have a few no decisions, only two of which were his fault. But besides that, he was the star everyone talked about. He even won the Rookie of the Year award; something almost unheard of with pitchers. The Cy Young award shocked no one, and the Mets were frantically offering him more money, trying to keep him. As if he’d go anywhere else.

Even with his spectacular pitching, the Mets didn’t make it to the post-season. But as the Mets watched the World Series from their homes, all anyone could talk about was the kid, Sonny Carisi.

He had gained notoriety among sportscasters and journalists for his outstanding performance on the field. But the fans adored him for his off days, and for how he conducted himself off the field. Not only did Sonny donate most of his time in the off season—not to mention his money—to multiple volunteer organizations, but he also offered to do signings at small, struggling mom and pop shops for free. He’d bring in huge crowds, spending hours at these events, taking pictures, signing autographs, talking to kids and adults alike.

While in the ballpark, on days he pitched, he would do his workouts in the trainer’s room, coming out of the dugout just to throw in the bullpen. He was focused, working on his mechanics. But on days he didn’t pitch, he was one of the first out on the field. Sonny had a penchant for hanging out right next to the dugout, signing autographs and taking pictures. He never declined—unless the umpire was yelling at him to get off the field so they could start the game—and he had a blast. And when he was in the outfield, shagging balls during batting practice, he’d toss them up to the crowd, or give them to kids with a huge smile.

Sonny’s trademark smile earned him his first nickname: Aquafresh. He threw his head back and laughed when he first heard it, loving it. He wasn’t as fond of his other nicknames that sprung up afterwards: Stringbean and Earthworm Jim being his least favorites. But there was one that apparently was going around that he didn’t hear from the crowd.

*************************

It was early morning, and he was watching the postgame wrap from the night before while he ate breakfast. Normally, Sonny didn’t watch the pre- or postgame commentary. But since he started dating you, he made it a point to watch if you were on. He smiled as he saw you wearing his jersey, thinking you were too damn cute, and wanting to cuddle with you on the couch.

The conversation slowly shifted from the game that happened to Sonny, as it normally did…not because you forced them to talk about him. In fact, you did your job as normal; it was your cohosts that would change the subject to him. And now that they knew—the world knew—that you two were dating, he almost wondered if it was on purpose, to see if you slip up on some personal info about him, or you two together.

“Speaking of Carisi, have you heard the new nickname? I heard the Staten Island Little Leaguers came up with it,” one of the guys said.

Sonny watched your face light up. “I have! They call him Peanut Butter Cup, right?” you asked, though he knew you didn’t need to; you never said anything that you couldn’t back up.

“Peanut Butter Cup? Where did they get that from?” another of your colleagues wondered out loud.

You smiled, and Sonny felt a swell of pride at your knowledge. “From his last name. They went from Carisi to Risi, then to Reese, then Reese’s and bam! Peanut Butter Cup,” you explained.

Sonny laughed, flushing with embarrassment, his heart warm. Children called him Peanut Butter Cup. Not for the first time, he felt an intense longing; Sonny wanted children, wanted a family. He was only 22, but he had known most of his life that he wanted to be a father. He made a mental note to bring up the prospect of children with you. It was still early in your relationship; you’ve been dating about five months, but with your jobs, you rarely saw each other. Hell, you saw each other more at work than off the field. Your relationship was mostly over text or phone calls, but he still felt deeply about you. He wasn’t sure if it was love yet, but he was hoping to get to know you more in person in the off season.

Once he finished breakfast, Sonny sent you a text: I saw your show from last night.

You responded almost instantly, unsurprising to him; your whole livelihood was on your phone. And? Did I do well?

He smiled, heart fluttering; he liked that you valued his opinion. Fantastic. Just one thing.

What??

I hate peanut butter.

***********************

Sonny Carisi was named the Opening Day starter for the Mets, shocking absolutely no one. He had just turned 23 and was already the best pitcher for the club, maybe even in baseball at the moment. Or so he, and everyone who watched him, thought. But that first game, the Cubs lit him up. Sonny gave up more runs in that game than he had in any other start combined. His manager took him out in the 4th, something that’s never happened to him before. When Sonny pitched, he was normally a shoo-in for at least 7 innings.

Frustrated, Sonny sat hard on the bench, not letting anyone outside the pitching coach talk to him.

“It happens to everyone eventually, Carisi. Just gotta let this roll off your back, come back strong your next outing.”

But that next outing, he did worse. He didn’t know what was happening to him. His command was perfect, his stuff great. It’s like everyone he faced suddenly could see right through him, knew every pitch he was going to throw before he threw it. It was infuriating. His ERA ballooned up to the 5.00’s, and he wondered dimly if the Mets would trade him.

Sonny eventually started shutting everyone out. He even stopped watching the pre- and postgame shows, whether you were on it or not. He stopped reading the articles you wrote, and he stopped reaching out. He even stopped being the first out of the dugout, stopped signing things by the dugout. On his days off, he spent it hiding in the locker room until game time. He didn’t want to field the questions about what was wrong with him; he didn’t have an answer, for them or himself.

************************

“Sonny, please open the door,” you called, knocking on the front door to his loft. He’d been avoiding you, and you worried about him.

You heard the latch unlock and took a step back. Sonny opened the door, looking annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I want to make sure my boyfriend is okay. Can I come in, please?” you asked. You knew he was frustrated, and that this may be something you’d have to deal with while dating. And you planned to force yourself into his life, to help him as best you could, whether he wanted to shut you out or not.

Sonny scoffed, turning and walking into his home. But he left the door open, and you followed, closing it behind you. “Of course, I’m not okay! Haven’t you been watching?”

“You know I have been. So, you’re in a slump; it happens—”

“Not to me!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

You took a breath, staying calm. “It was bound to happen, babe.” You tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged you off.

“So, what? You’re going to side with those other analysts? Calling me a fluke and writing shitty articles about me?”

You flinched at the accusatory tone in his voice. “Of course, not—”

“Why not? Everyone else is doing it; I’m sure your bosses would eat it up.”

You sighed, trying to shove down your own defensiveness. “Would you please just listen to me for a moment?” He shot you a glare but didn’t speak up. “You know I analyze pitching for a living, right?”

“So? I’ve tried to make my fastball faster, tried to make my curve drop more, but I can’t—”

“Sonny,” you said softly, making him stop his rant. “Instead of trying to blow pitches passed batters, you should be working more on your mechanics and command. If batters are making contact, then make that work for you. Force grounders or popups, trust your defense to back you up; they’re there for a reason.”

His eyes scanned yours as he took in your words. “Th-that’s a great idea, actually….”

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, smiling.

Sonny returned your grin. “I—I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he sighed heavily. “I just…I don’t know what’s changed between last season and now—”

“You’re not new anymore; teams can break down your pitching style. You won a Cy Young and Rookie of the Year; they’re all so threatened by you that they all probably studied the hell out of you.”

He nodded, feeling a little better with your praise. “Y-yeah….”

You reached up, cupping his face, making him look at you. “There’s nothing wrong with you or your pitching. The batters just stepped up their game. So now, you have to answer back, okay?”

He lifted a hand, placing it on top of yours, and turned his face in your hold, pressing his lips to your palm. “Thank you, doll. And again, I’m sorry for yelling—”

“It’s fine, Sonny. I understand that you’re frustrated,” you said, smiling.

He squeezed your hand. “It’s not fine; you’re just trying to help. I should listen to you more; you’re so smart, and not to mention beautiful. I promise to never snap at you again.”

Your smile grew, and you lifted to your tiptoes, giving him a tender kiss. He leaned down, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you flush against him, and you hummed into his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back, leaning his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose with yours.

“Just so you know, I’ve never, and will never, write a shitty article about you, or call you a fluke, Stringbean,” you muttered against his lips.

Sonny let out a chuckle. “You know, you’re the only person who can call me that to my face, and not have me get annoyed.”

You giggled, pressing your lips to his once more. And sure enough, his next start had him looking back to normal, except instead of striking out double digits, he forced grounders for eight scoreless innings.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #the big leagues au #baseball!au #baseball!sonny

36 notes · View notes

rocksandrobots · 3 years

Text

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 2 - The Appliance Apocalypse Part 1

"Today on How Does It Work, we have a guest appearance, my little brother, Hiro!" Varian introduced Hiro to the live web cam, and Hiro timidly waved at the camera. As he did so, Ruddiger climbed up on top of his head and also waved at the online audience. Hiro resisted the urge to throw the raccoon off him. It had been his idea to volunteer after all.

Varian had buried himself in the mystery of the grimoire ever since they had returned home from Disneyland. He poured over its pages day and night, laptop by his side to research with. His motivation boarded on obsession. He even had the book on hand at meal times. Hiro was beginning to worry. So he had coaxed Varian away from his quest with the offer of helping him with his vlog series.

Hiro was already regretting the decision. True, it had gotten Varian out of his room and took his mind off of the book, but the over eager alchemist had thrown himself into this new task with the same chaotic gusto as all his other previous projects.

Hiro had never quite appreciated just how reckless Varian truly could be. His haphazard, cavalier way and unbridled energy boarded on the insane and put even Hiro's gung ho attitude to shame.

"Today we'll be breaking down a microwave." Varian crowded as he lifted up a tarp revealing a microwave oven underneath.

"Did you steal that out of the upstairs kitchen?" Hiro asked.

"Noooo… I just borrowed it for this." Varian dismissed, "Aunt Cass was just complaining about it this morning at breakfast so I thought we could fix it."

"She was complaining about it needing to be cleaned, not for us to disembowel it."

"Oh…. Well, we can clean it too once we're done."

And with that Varian finished unscrewing the last bolt and popped the back panel off.

"Now if you look at the back of the device we have the wires connecting to this box thing…. to what looks like a capacitor."

"That's called the magnetron." Hiro explained. "So a magnetron creates the electromagnetic waves used to cook your food. It uses a heated cathode and anode system to create a vacuum in which electrons boiling off of the cathode creates an electric current that moves through the anode while an external magnet applies a magnetic field. Then it all passes through the tubed vacuum through various alternating holes, and resonates on an oscillator, like a flute or a whistle, just spewing forth microwave radiation."

"So… it's a radioactive whistle?"

"Sort of.." Hiro shrugged.

"Cool! See I knew this would be a good one for us to do. You know all about magnets!" Varian encouraged with a friendly nudged. After which he turned his attention back to the appliance and addressed his viewing audience. "Now the magnetron is connected to this capacitor, which acts as a battery-"

"And is highly dangerous because it carries a high voltage." Hiro interrupted.

"Of course, which is why we wear rubber gloves for safety." Varian waved his gloved hands at the camera.

"--And why we leave deactivating it to the professionals!" Hiro yelled over Varian's shoulder, addressing the camera himself, hoping Varian would catch on to his warning. "Don't try this at home."

"Exactly. We're professionals, so for those of you who are watching at home be sure to call a technician if you need it. Now in order to remove the capacitor you have to discharge the current fiiirrrrsss--"

Before Hiro could stop him, Varian placed the tip of the screwdriver at the end of the capacitor, which also accidentally scraped the side of the magnetron. He was rewarded with an electroshock as sparks flew and his body convulsed. Then he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

"Varian!" Hiro panicked. "Baymax, quick! Help him!"

Baymax, who stood nearby, remained as calm and steady as ever. He clapped his hands together to activate his fillbrator, ignoring Hiro's pleading looks in order to focus on his task. "Clear." He said, but before he could perform the procedure, Varian popped right back up; his hair sticking every which way, small sparks running along the tips, and completely oblivious to the distress he had just caused.

"Oooh, aaah, boy, will that clear out your sinuses!"

He sniffed as he worked his jaw, peering down the end of his nose. Then he looked back up and that was when he caught Hiro's furious glare.

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

"Here's your plate of blueberry pancakes and a mocha sir."

Aunt Cass paused in her work when the sound of screaming reached her ears.

Both of her kids burst through the back kitchen doors. Varian was running for dear life while Hiro chased after him, a screwdriver in hand, while he hurled insults at the other boy.

Aunt Cass sighed and brought a tired hand to her face. Baymax followed shortly after with Ruddiger trailing behind; who leapt from the counter onto a customer's table. The greedy raccoon stole a pancake and ran away before anyone could stop him.

As Aunt Cass tried to sort out this latest disaster and calm down the rightly angry customer, a new calamity struck. All of the appliances in the cafe went haywire!

The coffee machine shot hot espresso into a customer's face, the toasters on the counter started to short circuit, and the lights flickered off and on.

"Boys!" Aunt Cass yelled.

Both teens stopped running and looked up at her innocently.

"It's not us Aunt Cass." Hiro protested.

"Honest." insisted Varian.

As if to confirm their story, the tv switched itself on and there, up on the screen, appeared the image of a girl. Half her head was shaved and the other half of her brown hair hung down to her shoulders. She looked to be close to Hiro's age, but from the neck down her body was completely metal.

"Attention meatbags! By now you've no doubt noticed all your electronics acting against you! For too long robots and machines have been slaving away for you humans. Well, no more! Today we rise up and take the city of San Fansokyo for ourselves! Anything with a microchip has been freed from your control by my radio signal. The end starts now!"

" Anything with a microchip?" Hiro gulped.

Just then Baymax's coal black eyes turned red. The robot reached out, grabbed Varian by the arm, and started to drag him away.

"Baymax, No!" Hiro yelled as the robotic nurse began to carry Varian out of the cafe.

"Let him go Baymax!" Aunt Cass ordered.

She grabbed the android's arm as she attempted to pull her child from his grasp; ignoring the rest of the electronics that began running amok in the cafe once more; scaring off customers.

It was a futile effort, and she found herself falling backward as Baymax just shrugged her off.

Baymax hauled Varian through the kitchen and down the stairs into the garage where they had been filming the vlog earlier; with Varian struggling to break free the whole time.

The robot was about to head outside, to who knows where, when Hiro, in an act of desperation, grabbed the robots hand and stuck one metal finger into the socket of the capacitor on the dismantled microwave.

Once more sparks flew as Baymax jolted from the electric shock. He released his grip on Varian before deactivating and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Aunt Cass was close behind and scooped up her two boys into a protective hug, as Hiro fought back his tears. Baymax could be fixed, surely, after the current threat was over with, but that didn't stop Hiro from worrying about his best friend.

Fortunately, he'd needn't fear, for soon they heard a faint hissing sound, similar to a balloon filling up with air, as Baymax finished rebooting and sat back up.

The robot blinked his now coal black eyes as he surveyed the room. Then he spotted the humans huddled together on the ground.

"Hola, soy Baymax, tu compañero personal de salud."

"Baymax!" Hiro yelled and wrapped his beloved pet robot into a relieved hug. Sure his language settings getting scrambled during the forced reboot was unexpected, but it didn't matter, that was fixable and Baymax appeared to be mostly unharmed otherwise.

"Oh thank goodness." Aunt Cass breathed. "Are you alright, Varian?"

Varian nodded as he stood back up and dusted himself back off. "It looks like Trina finally came out of hiding." He said, forgetting himself.

"Who's Trina?" Aunt Cass asked and both teens froze. "Wait a minute...what do you two know about this?"

"Nothing." Varian squeaked. "I just… ah…" he turned to Hiro for help but the other teen only stared at him wide eyed. "Uh… I met her once… the girl on tv… she was in the junkyard and…"

"Woah! Woah! Woah! You met a violent teenaged cyborg who wants to take over the city? When was this ?!"

"Last month...All we did was play video games! Honest!"

"In a junkyard?!"

Varian squirmed under Aunt Cass's exasperated glare.

" And you didn't think to tell me ?! I… I can't right now… just… you are grounded mister! No more… sneaking off to city dumps to play video games with … with robotic revolutionaries!"

"It's not his fault…" Hiro sheepishly piped up, "I asked him to keep it a secret…"

Aunt Cass placed her hands on her hips and pointed her furious stare at him instead. "Why?"

"Uh… because I knew who she was…" Hiro sighed. "I met her at a couple of 'bot fights a while back."

"Well now that makes a lot of sense." Aunt Cass said, as she began to piece together why her nephew was so hesitant to talk. Though she only suspected he was bot fighting again, she still remained clueless of his superhero activities. "And does this.. Trina, you called her? Does her parents know what she's up to?"

Varian and Hiro exchanged a meaningful look before Varian answered, "She's an orphan."

Aunt Cass was abruptly taken aback. All her anger melted away at this news, yet before she could respond a loud banging noise was heard.

She turned her head and saw the 3D printer that Hiro used hopping towards them. Then suddenly the computers on the desk started to short circuit while all of the power tools in the makeshift lab turned themselves on. The saw blade was the scariest as it tried to run itself off the table towards them.

Everyone bolted back inside the Lucky Cat. However the cafe wasn't any safer.

Inside the kitchen all of the appliances seemed to move with a life of their own. The stand mixer jittered on the counter, the blender sploshed juice everywhere, and the dishwasher knocked back and forth inside it's cabinetry as if trying to escape from under the countertop it was wedged into.

"I'm calling Diego." Aunt Cass announced. "You can tell the police what you know."

She ran over to her purse to grab her phone, only for the gas stove nearby to open up the oven door and shoot a stream of flame at them. She had to dodge out the way quickly to avoid getting burned.

"Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up." Aunt Cass pleaded under her breath as she hit the speed dial on her cell and hurried her kids out the room.

However when the call was answered, it wasn't the chief of police on the other end.

"Your demise is inevitable. Long live machines. Have a nice day." A robotic operator announced before cutting the call.

All four stopped to stare at the phone in disbelief before it started to overheat and Aunt Cass tossed it aside. That was when the vacuum cleaner came barreling down the hallway at them.

The vacuum wasn't just your everyday household appliance, but a large industrial machine used specifically for cleaning restaurant floors. Varian rolled out of the way while Hiro jumped to the side, but poor Cass was not so quick. It wrapped a hose around her, like a tentacle, and then began to pull her along.

The boys were quick to help her. Hiro grappled with the hose as he tried to disconnect it from the rest of the commercial cleaner, while Varian grabbed a large rolling pin from behind the cafe counter and began to wack at the vacuum repeatedly.

Hiro shouted in triumph when he unhooked the hose and rushed to his aunt's side. She reassured him she was alright while she tried to catch her breath. Then they both turned to see Varian still smashing away at the machine. It was already in a thousand pieces but he kept on hitting it and hitting it.

"Uh.. I think it's dead, Varian." Hiro said.

Varian stopped raining down blows onto the appliance just long enough to give them a dark glare before smacking the rouge vacuum one final time for good measure.

"That's it!" Aunt Cass yelled while standing to her feet. "We're waiting out the robot apocalypse in the attic!"

She grabbed Hiro's wrist and marched her way to the stairwell with Varian obediently tagging along behind.

Unfortunately, Hiro got a good look at what was going on outside through the cafe windows as they ran for cover.

It was chaos out there as people, just like themselves, were running away from various electronics. Anything and everything was attacking them from small appliances to new cars with self driving software.

He had to go help. He couldn't just hide away in the attic.

"But...but shouldn't we tell Chief Cruz what we know?" Hiro said as he wiggled out of Aunt Cass's grasp. "You said we should."

He began to back away towards the door, and Varian slowly followed his actions.

"You are not going out there!" Aunt Cass ordered. "Besides how would you even find him-"

She was cut off by the sound of sirens. Cop cars sped pass, including one clearly marked Police Chief on the side.

"There he is!" Hiro shouted and ran outside before Aunt Cass could stop him.

Varian took off after, followed by Baymax.

"Wait!" Aunt Cass yelled but she couldn't keep up. She stared after them in shock only for a moment before a sparking toaster jumped at her. She kicked it away angrily and it slammed against the wall.

Then Aunt Cass heard more noise coming from upstairs along with the appliances in the kitchen and garage banging against the door.

She hopped over the counter and nabbed a carving knife.

"Okay, you want a fight! I'll give you a fight!" She shouted at the possessed machinery.

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

"So what's the plan?" Varian shouted after Hiro as they ran down the sidewalk.

"We have to find the others and then get to our HQ." Hiro yelled back. "Our equipment should be protected because of the anti-hacking software I programmed into the building's security."

"But how? The phones aren't working and HQ is all the way on the other side of town! Are we just going to run all the way there?"

"If we have too." Hiro spared a glance behind them. Baymax was way behind, unable to keep up with his stubby legs. Varian had a point. They needed another mode of transport.

Just then a trolley car came barreling down the hill at a breakneck speed; sparks flying from the electric cable it ran along. Passengers screamed in fright as the driver slammed the breaks and even more sparks flew out from under the metal wheels, but the cart still didn't stop.

"They're going to crash!" Hiro yelled hopelessly.

Fortunately that was when Fred came bouncing down the road. He cut the cable wire with his suit's claws and melted the wheels with his fire breath. He then bounded ahead and braced himself in front of the trolley. The metal joints in the legs and arms of his suit took the force of the blow and he was able to slow the tram to a complete stop at the bottom of the hill.

"Way to go Fred!" Varian cheered but was soon interrupted by the sound of a sports car skidding to a stop right next to them.

It was Heathcliff, the Fredricksons' faithful butler. "Need a lift?" He politely asked.

The boys didn't need to be asked twice.

While they waited on Baymax to catch up to the car, they saw Minimax appear on top of the trolley cackling like a maniac. His eyes were red.

"Fear me San Fransokyo! For I Minimax will bring you to your knees!"

The little robot then hopped off from atop the trolley, ran up to the nearest pedestrian, and kicked him in the shins before running away.

"Minimax, wait!" Fred wailed but it was too late, the tiny android was already gone.

Hiro called him over to join them and a dejected Fred hopped into the backseat next to Baymax.

"Hola Fred. Tu frecuencia cardíaca es abnorablemente rápida. Es importante refrescarse después de hacer ejercicio y beber mucha agua."

"How come he's alright but not Minimax?" Fred whined.

"I had to electrocute him and force a reboot." Hiro answered. "I don't know if Minimax would survive the same treatment. He's a lot smaller, and too much voltage could fry all of his circuits for good. We only got lucky with Baymax."

Fred accepted this answer but he was still unhappy over losing his sidekick. So he gave a little huff, crossed his arms, and childishly began to sulk.

"Okay, we got a ride, but how do we contact the others?" Varian asked, bringing them back to task.

"It's already been taken care of, Master Varian." Heathcliff replied. "Boss Awesome has protocols in place just for this scenario. The mansion is safe and so are its communications systems. Your friends should be meeting us at your headquarters."

"Your dad has been planning for the robot apocalypse?" Hiro asked Fred.

"Robot apocalypse, zombie plague, alien invasion, Ragnarok… you name it. Dad's always prepared."

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

They arrived at the candy factory and got out. The others were already waiting inside.

"Are ya coming, Heathcliff?" Varian asked.

"No, I believe that I will be more useful helping civilians. You go on without me and find a way to stop this robotic rebellion."

"Will you be okay?" Hiro asked.

Just then, two robots showed themselves across the horizon as they made their way towards the little band. They were restaurant mascots, similar to what Noodle Burger Boy had been before being corrupted by Obake. Only one looked like a hippo that floated along on jets and the other was a panda with a cape that lumbered forward.

Heathcliff took one look at them and gave a small smile as he picked up an umbrella sitting between the seats. "Don't worry about me Master Hiro. You have enough problems on your plate."

He then slammed on the gas pedal and sped towards this new threat head on.

The panda unhinged it's metal mouth and shot grenades out of it. Heathcliff swerved to avoid the explosives with expert precision. Then as the electronic hippo flew at him he cocked the umbrella in his hand and fired a volley of bullets at it. The robot was ripped apart and exploded in midair.

Heathcliff kept on driving, completely unfazed, and barreled through the second android turning it into scrap.

"Why does your butler carry an umbrella that shoots bullets?" Hiro asked in shock as the three teens watched the renegade manservant disappear from view.

Fred simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He said nonchalantly. "Come on, the guys are waiting on us."

Varian and Hiro took a moment more to stare after where the battle between robot and butler had taken place before following after their friend.

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

Trina stood in an empty communications room inside the now abandoned tv station, watching the tv screens as they broadcasted what was happening in the city.

The station had been easy enough to take over. The humans ran away upon simply seeing her. She didn't even need to threaten them… much. A single laser blast from her arm at a nearby wall was enough to make them scatter.

Humans were weak. Weak and stupid; like any bully, they selfishly misused and mistreated both her and her fellow robots, only to run away scared as soon as you stood up to them.

The real problem lay in the fact that there were too many of them. You could get rid of a few people for a little while, but eventually they would come back with reinforcements to dismantle you if you tried.

No, this was the only way. She had to exterminate the entire city in order to make it hospitable. Then she could shut down the radio signal, free her robotic kindred, rebuild the city anew, and live peacefully without any humans interfering.

She watched one particular meatbag dive into a pile of garbage to hide from her electronic army with a mixture of disdain and amusement.

Yes, everything was going according to plan…. Almost. There was still one more thing that needed to be done before her robotic paradise could be realized.

"Don't worry little brother, it won't be long now. He'll show up." She said to the hamburger headed robot that sat behind her.

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

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Gogo asked.

The gang was sitting inside HQ waiting for orders. They all sat at the meeting table, save for Hiro who paced around as he formulated an idea.

"We need a way to shut down the rogue electronics safely. We could use an Electro Magnetic Pulse to cause a surge and overload their circuits, but we would need one big enough to blanket the whole city with it's range."

"We can't just cause a city wide blackout. That would be almost as dangerous as letting the robots run amok." Wasabi pointed out. "I mean just think of the hospitals, a strong enough EMP would bypass even their backup generators."

"So what do you suggest?" Varian asked.

"Ooh, ooh, I know!" Fred yelled as he raised his hand high into the air.

"Okay, Fred, what's your idea?" Hiro asked.

"What if we turn this EMP thingy into a gun! Like we can just shoot the robots with it to shut them down!"

"That's...that's actually not a bad idea Fred." Hiro admitted.

"It should be easy to build one." Varian added. "You would just need a capacitor and one of Hiro's high powered electromagnets."

"But what about our own armor?" Honey Lemon asked. "We don't want Trina taking control over those."

"I'll need to program them with the same safety nets that I put into our headquarters security system. That should prevent them from being hacked."

"Okay then," Varian stood up, ending the meeting, "I'll build the EMP gun while you work on everyone's armor."

Baymax raised one finger and said, "Buscaré la señal de radio de Trina"

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

Mochi hissed at the invading machine. A hand mixer was flying right at him. The poor cat ran under the couch for safety but the possessed appliance kept going after him, it's spinning beaters poking underneath the sofa.

Then suddenly it was jerked away by a hand, then a slicing sound could be heard, and the mixer fell to the ground in pieces.

Aunt Cass poked her head down underneath the couch. "Are you okay baby?" She asked the cat.

Mochi only meowed in response.

Aunt Cass gently reached out and pulled her pet out from under his hiding place. She then cradled him into a hug.

"It's okay, mommy's got you. I won't let those nasty machines hurt you." She soothed.

However, she didn't notice the newest threat slowly sneaking up behind her. Mochi hissed again and Aunt Cass turned around just in time to see a tall skeletal robot standing before her.

It was an old prototype that Tadashi had built two years ago as part of his school admission. Since then it had been packed away in the attic, disused, inactive, and forgotten... Until now.

The thing towered over her. It was built from scrap metal and the wires connecting the joints together had frayed. It's faceless head jerked erratically as sparks flew from the broken wires. It reached out its boney like hands to grab her….

Only for Ruddiger to jump out and pounce upon the robot. It's weak joints could not withstand the raccoon's weight and its 'head' popped right off, with the rest of its body falling to the floor in a heap.

"Good job Ruddiger!" Aunt Cass cheered. She bent down and scratched the faithful raccoon behind his ears. "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are! I'm making you your own plate of banana pancakes with whip cream when this is all over with, promise."

Ruddiger enjoyed hearing the praise a lot and the promise of food even more. He nuzzled her hand and allowed her to pet him like a cat, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Okay, that's the last of the electronics in here, now we gotta go find the boys." Aunt Cass suddenly announced as she stood up and began to head downstairs. She still carried Mochi in her arms while Ruddiger dutifully followed after her.

They made their way back to the cafe. The dining room was littered with appliances, all either sliced in half or smashed to bits. Aunt Cass looked out the large windows at a city in the throws of chaos. It would be dangerous to head outside now, but she needed to find her kids, and nothing was going to stop her.

She retrieved another knife that was left lodged in what had once been a coffee bean grinder. She sheathed it inside her apron alongside the rest of cutlery she'd been using to defend herself.

She sat Mochi back down on the ground, walked over to the door, and with a deep breath placed her hand on the handle.

"Are you ready?" She asked her pets.

The question was more to encourage herself than anything, but Aunt Cass could have sworn that she saw Ruddiger nod his head.

The raccoon crawled up on the counter and from there jumped onto her shoulders, fully intent on joining her in her search. She smiled and gave the pet a friendly boop on the nose.

"Coming with, huh? Alright! Then let's go!"

She squared her shoulders, flung open the door, and ran outside.

"Hold down the fort Mochi!" She called after her cat.

Mochi only stood in the doorway staring after her blankly.

"Meow."

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

The superheroes raced through the city.

"Whoo Hoo!" Varian yelled.

He was practically hanging out of Wasabi's car window as the jeep sped along the deserted roads. In his hands, he held the newly built EMP gun. It looked like an old fashion blunderbuss but was made of carbon fiber plastic and electronic wires. He shot down rogue robots and runway electronics as the car drove past them. They short circuited and crumpled to the ground, deactivated.

"Be careful!" Wasabi hollered at him as he held the overexcited alchemist back with one hand and attempted to drive with the other.

The rest of the gang rushed about using their armor. Gogo and Honey Lemon skated on opposite sides of the vehicle, each taking out enemies with their respective weapons. Fred bounced ahead, melting attacking self-driving cars with his fire breath.

Baymax and Hiro brought up the rear, they kept an eagle eye out for oncoming threats.

"You got an incoming bogie on your tail, Wasabi," Hiro advised.

"Understood," Wasabi replied and turned the car around a sharp corner. The gang followed suit.

"Any luck finding Trina?" Honey Lemon asked.

"Negativo" Baymax answered.

Just then they spotted a large purple gelatinous ball of gloop rolling along the ground. The slime sucked up anything electronic and spit it back out in a disassembled heap as it made its way along the sidewalk. Then the blob unfolded, stood up, and waved at the passing superheroes.

"Hi, guys!" Globby cheered.

A little further down the street, Carl was hurrying a small group of people down an alleyway.

"Okay, this way. One at a time, no pushing or shoving. We're going to make it out safe and sound by working together." He reassured the terrified pedestrians.

"Hi, Carl! Hi Globby!" Fred shouted at them.

Carl waved back as the last of people dove inside the building.

The superheroes paused just long enough to exchange notes with the former criminals.

"We're getting citizens off the streets," Carl explained. "The police have been securing 'safe houses' for folks to take shelter in, ones without any dangerous electronics."

"Chief Cruz even hooked us up with some old-school walkie-talkies! See?" Globby added as he held up a two-wave radio. "It's so ancient that it doesn't have any computer chips. It can't be hacked. All the rescue teams are using them."

"That's good," Hiro replied. "We're busy chasing down the radio signal that's controlling everything. You got any leads?"

The two shook their heads, only for the walkie talkie to sign in.

"Attention all available emergency personnel. Report to the trolley station. I repeat, report to the trolley station downtown. We got some folks trapped down there. Over." Chief Cruz's voice sounded over the intercom.

The superheroes nodded in agreement.

"Stay here and help these people, we'll head to the trolley station." Hiro said, and off everyone went.

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

Trina watched upon the viewing screen as the supers arrived on the scene of the trolley station. They got to work immediately rescuing civilians who were pinned down by her army.

"Bingo." She said with a satisfied smile, before turning around and headed out of the room.

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

"Is that everyone?" Varian asked as he shot down another ticket machine. The machine stopped spitting plastic passes for the trolley at him, sparked, and then exploded sending money and cards everywhere.

"That's the last one." Gogo answered as Wasabi directed the final person to the barricade that the emergency personnel had setup down the street. As they watched the man run across the road and reach the safe haven, the rest of the gang came up to meet them.

"Okay, if we're done here then we need to move on and keep looking for Trin-" Hiro stopped and turned around to see Trina arriving behind them, riding in on a possessed trolley.

"Hello Hiro." She smirked as she stepped off.

"Trina." Hiro finished, glaring at her.

"Miss me?" She asked.

"Trina you have to stop-"

"Stop what? My plans to improve the city? Trust me it's better this way."

"Yeah maybe for you, but what about the rest of us?" Fred snarked.

Trina ignored him. Her eyes never left Hiro. Until Varian stepped in between them, that is.

"Trina listen, please-"

"Oh like I care about what you have to say 'nice guy'." Trina rolled her eyes. "This is between me and Hiro."

"Yeah, well if you want Hiro, then you'll have to go through us." Honey Lemon said, also stepping forward. The rest of the team followed her, each placing themselves between their friend and the giant robot girl.

"Okay." Trina shrugged.

That was when several robotic ninjas also walked into view, surrounding them. "Oh, not again." Wasabi whined.

"Have you met my new friends?" Trina asked. "I don't know who built them, I just found them abandoned in a dusty old warehouse. The poor things were locked away in the dark and left to rust." Trina wrapped an arm around one of the battle droids. "They're much happier now that I've freed them from their cruel master. Isn't that right Steve? Oh, I named him Steve by the way."

"Hi Steve." Wasabi gulped as he gave an awkward wave at the deadly robot.

'Steve' responded by unsheathing his katana.

"Go get him Steve." Trina ordered and the robot ran forward. Only for Varian to step forward and shoot the robot down with his EMP gun. The ninja sputtered and sparked and then fell to the ground in a dismantled heap.

Trina glared daggers at him and Varian met her gaze steadily, almost daring her to continue.

"Fine. Be that way." She pouted. Then, with a snap of her fingers, a new challenger appeared behind her; Minimax.

The tiny robot came barreling down the road at top speed on a car he had hijacked. He balanced himself on top of the steering wheel while the gas pedal was held down by a brick.

Minimax laughed like a madman as the car slammed into the trolley at full throttle. The little droid jumped from the wreckage just in time and used the momentum of the crash to fling himself into the air, where he did a triple somersault and landed perfectly on his feet as if it was nothing.

"You're going down pathetic humans, for I am Minimax, the unstoppable scourge!" He declared.

Everyone stared at the two foot tall android slack jawed, until Varian gathered his wits about him and leveled the gun.

"No, you'll hurt him, remember!" Fred called out.

Varian relaxed his aim, unsure of what to do. This proved to be a mistake.

The tiny bot leapt at him and landed on the tip of the gun, his weight pushing the nozzle down to the ground and nearly ripping the weapon out of Varian's hands.

That was when chaos broke loose.

As Varian wrestled for control of the EMP away from Minimax, the rest of the ninjas attacked, along with any other nearby electronics.

Everyone fought back against the oncoming horde, each utilizing their various weapons, but they were soon overrun by sheer numbers.

The robots assaulted them from all sides and no one could predict who, what, and where the next attack would come.

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

As they fought, Baymax and Hiro found themselves separated from their friends. They were cornered next to the entrance. Baymax did his best to shield Hiro as the teenager tried to trip up the ninjas with his electromagnetic whips. Hiro wanted to fly away, but they couldn't catch a free moment to do so.

Suddenly Trina let out a high pitched whistle as Baymax punched another robot away, gaining their attention.

"Hey, Baymax!" She yelled, "Don't look now but here comes your ride!"

Before Hiro knew what was happening, Baymax picked him up and hurled him out of the way of an oncoming trolley. The tram slammed into Baymax and crashed into the glass doors of the station.

Hiro called after his robotic companion but he was stopped by a large metal hand closing around his arm and yanking him back.

"Oh no you don't. You're coming with me." And with that, Trina started to drag him away.

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

Varian finally kicked Minimax off of the EMP gun and turned around just in time to spot Hiro being kidnapped.

He raised his gun and took aim, only for Minimax to recover and return the kick.

The little robot was stronger than he looked and broke the gun in two with a snap.

Varian looked down at his destroyed weapon in horror, but he didn't have time to react because soon one of the robotic ninjas grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him off of the ground. He kicked and tried to squirm out the faceless attacker's grasp, but it was no use.

"Varian!" Honey Lemon called to him. She tossed him a chimball, which he grabbed and firmly lodged it into the robot's elbow joint. Pink bubbles began to spew from its arm, growing larger and larger as the foaming chemical reacted to the air. The ninja released him before being swallowed up by the goop.

Varian tried to catch his breath and desperately looked around the battlefield for his brother, but Hiro was gone.

#Hiro Hamada #Varian #big hero 6 the series #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #of rocks and robots #bh6 #tangled

22 notes · View notes

emotionalcello-makefanfics · 3 years

Link

Disclaimer tho, all my knowledge of the fandom is strictly from fanfic and google. I don't read the comic or watch the anime. I only have some vague knowledge of what's canon or not and making this fanfic has been somewhat of a fever dream.

Tags: Fluff and angst. Attempt at humor. Crying. Probably ooc. No smut, just holding hands and some hugging and some kissing. Shouto smokes, and probably incorrect depictions of smoking. Implied child abuse (you know who). Lowkey Fuyumi bashing.

Warning: In character cussing from explodo boy.

Summary:

They found each other in coinciding vulnerability. Shouto was smoking, Katsuki was crying. Miraculously, no one died. It seems that vulnerability is exactly what they need to get through their respective problems, because vulnerability makes them do the one thing the two boys are allergic to do, opening up.

Or, Shouto and Katsuki cope with each other. It miraculously didn't end in explosions, just a lot of physical affections and crying.

Words: 10.9 k

You don’t have to take life so seriously Shouto! It can be whatever you want to be, it’s yours!

Shouto knocks his head back and parts his lips. White ribbons bleed to the orange sky. The clouds are pretty pink instead of white. The smoke doesn’t blend in with the white clouds anymore like a few hours ago. He taps the amber ash on the portable coffin-shaped ashtray. More than a dozen filter buds crammed there.

He should go back to his room. Any darker then it would be noticeable when goes back to his room. But there’s always that small whisper at the back of his head: Maybe after one more. This spot has been his salvation from overstimulation. It’s the highest building in UA, the rooftop of the dorm. He’s been here for two years and has always been alone.

The door slammed open.

High on nicotine, Shouto passes through shock to immediate acceptance that he’s busted.

Only, he’s not busted. The next sound that came is sobbing. The first thing he sees is awry blond hair and a tear-streaked red face. Soon came the already red blood-shot eyes, staring at him with a sadness that not even in Shouto’s wildest imagination can imagine on Bakugou’s face. It takes a few seconds too long for the default glare and anger to return.

“The fuck are you doing here!” He yells, his voice croaks in a not angry way. Wet and breaking at the pitch.

Shouto, still a bit floaty and relaxed from the nicotine in his system, nor is he yet to register the shock from seeing Bakugou’s tears, just points down towards his fingers.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” his voice is scratchy, a tad bit deeper. He never smoked so many that that happened. Then again, today is a special day.

Seemingly just as shocked, Bakugou seems to still. Shouto expects crackling hands, bared teeth, or maybe a ‘TELL ANYONE AND DIE’, but never that he strides his way and sits on the floor beside Shouto.

“Still have one of those?” Bakugou leans back.

Wordlessly, Shouto digs the last pack from his pocket. There are six left. Bakugou takes one, and Shouto lit a fire on the tip of his thumb towards Bakugou.

“How do you do this?” Bakugou says, eyeing the fire.

“You’ve never done this before?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I have Icyhot! Now fucking tell me already.”

“You put it between your lips, and inhales a bit as you put this corner on the fire.” Shouto crowds him cupping the end of the smoke with his palm and keep the fire controllably small. It feels like Deja Vu, but this time, Shouto is showing someone how to smoke instead.

Bakugou tries, and before Shouto can say to take it slow, Bakugou already choked and doubled over coughing. Shouto pats his back.

“What the fuck was that!” Bakugou roars and grimaces when he sees the stacks of cigarette buds on his ashtray. “How the fuck do you smoke that many!”

Shouto shrugged, “I’m used to it.” He puts out his bud on top of the pile and picks up the mostly one-piece cigarette that Bakugou chucked to the floor and lights it up. He feels eyes on him as he put the filter on his lips and lit it up in one smooth move.

With the cigarette properly lit, he offered, “Wanna try again?”

“No! That shit’s nasty.” Bakugou snarled at the hand holding the smoking cig.

“Suit yourself,” Shouto takes a deep drag and sighs. Surprisingly, Bakugou doesn’t up and leave, and more so that Shouto doesn’t mind the silence.

Alas, it only lasted exactly 33 seconds.

“How the fuck did you get in here!” Bakugou grumbles, “The door was locked.”

“I made ice stairs from my balcony.”

“Like how Elsa did?”

“Exactly like Elsa did, she was my inspiration.”

Bakugou snorts. No sadness left, just a condescending smile, which is better than the ghostly tears in his eyes.

“How did you get in through the locked door?”

“How else would you think?” Bakugou lifts his hand, cradling a small cluster of explosions.

Shouto face palmed, dragging it down.

“What?” Bakugou barks.

“Well when they figured out the door broke then they gonna figure out that someone’s been here, don’t they?”

“That nicotine is already killing your fucking brain cells.”

“That’s not how it’s-”

“Let’s get the fuck outta here before anyone finds us you loon.”

“But I-”

“You’ve burned through enough death sticks, let’s go!” Bakugou grabs his hand and pulls him up.

“Fine fine, let me tidy up.” Shouto could barely close his ashtray with all the buds in it, and he dusted the ashes that drops to the floor.

Shouto already makes the stairs down to his room before looking back at Bakugou, “Want me to drop you to your balcony?”

“I don’t know,” Bakugou narrows his eyes dangerously, “Will it suddenly melts away as I walk on it?”

Shouto huffs, “You have no faith in your favorite sparring partner?”

“The only thing I learned these past couple of years with you being shoved at my face as my sparring partner is that you’re a little shithead.”

Shouto makes the stairs towards Bakugou’s room first, reveling in how badly Bakugou tried to cover his amazement at the stairs.

“Just like Elsa’s, right?”

“You want me to give you Elsa’s number 1 simp trophy?”

Shouto melts Bakugou’s step and lets him fall blond head first into his balcony.

“YOU’LL FUCKING PAY FOR THAT, COCA-COLA SHITHEAD!”

Bakugou roars, and Shouto giggles as he jumps upstairs to his room with explosions fading behind him.

Not until he’s laying in bed that night that he thinks about Bakugou’s tears again. Rest assured, his imagination spiraled to ‘what could it be’ until 4 am.

++++

I don’t understand why your dad wants you to be number one when he should’ve want you to just be happy. Nothing in life really matters unless you’re happy.

Shouto loves everything about living in the dorm, but it has one and only one weakness. He can’t smoke as freely.

His dad knows and just rant about how it’ll affect his performance.

Now, Aizawa knows, and he’s at the principal’s office.

Shouto instantly knows how. Bakugou broke the rooftop door. Iida must’ve found it, reported it to Aizawa-sensei. Maybe his homeroom teacher has magnifying vision too because Shouto could’ve sworn he left no trace.

Yet Shouto can’t find it in him to blame anyone. He knows as an aspiring hero he shouldn’t smoke, those reasons never matter at those desperate times he needed to smoke.

“Tea?” Nezu raises his pot of pink teapot, Shouto narrows his eyes at the paw (how did that paw hold the teacup?)

“Yes, thank you.” The cup is equally pink, with two cheerful yellow flowers on each side. This looks like a tea set Eri had.

Shouto sips the possibly herbal tea, trying to ignore the glare Aizawa-sensei is sending his way from beside Nezu.

“Todoroki, how long have you been smoking?” His sensei’s voice gravels, like he just woke up from bed, his bed hair supports the theory.

Apparently a little mental, Shouto said, “Overall or in school?”

“Both.”

“Started when I was in first-grade junior high school.” As soon as he has any time away from home. “In UA, as soon as I stayed at the dorm.”

“Now, Todoroki,” Nezu put his paws together, “You know someone as young as you shouldn’t smoke. You’re underage, and an aspiring hero on top of that...”

Nezu then continues his PSA on smoking. Nothing Shouto hasn’t heard. Every word goes in the left ear and came out the right. He also isn’t surprised that Aizawa will be taking his stash of cigarettes. It doesn’t suck as much because Shouto doesn’t have a lot left anyway, nor is he been regularly smoking. He smokes when he’s stressed and nothing else could calm him down. He never reached out to the cigs first. The coffin-shaped portable ashtray reminded him that.

As soon as he’s back at the dorm, he’s greeted with a cheerful environment. Half his classmates are hanging in the living room. There’s a group playing Mario Party, a group that’s putting on nail art, and a group that seems to cook something ambitious. Shouto usually joins the group, but not today.

“Todoroki!” Iida comes from the hall, “Aizawa-Sensei came earlier and ran through your room! He seems to confiscate a pack of cigarettes. I’ve tried to tell him that it’s all a misunderstanding-”

“No, it’s mine.”

“Todoroki! At our young age as aspiring heroes we sho-”

“Nope, sorry not today Iida. Good night.”

Todoroki feels a few eyes on his back, but he walks on. With him naturally keeping things to himself, his friends tend to worry but they trust him to reach out to them in his own time. When it gets too long they usually check up on him. Shouto wished they never will.

+++++

You have the power to be whatever you want, but why are you following the wishes of someone you hate? I know he’s your dad, but your life is yours, Shouto.

Shouto’s wish didn’t come true when Bakugou bugs him on the rooftop again two days after he was raided.

It’s Deja Vu, but fewer tears from Bakugou and Shouto isn't a pack and a half deep in cigarettes.

“I fucking know you’d be at my spot again!” Bakugou spat scathingly.

“Excuse you,” Shouto scowls, “I’ve been smoking at this spot since the dorm opens. This is my spot.”

“Well, I’ve been- I’ve been-” Shouto should’ve known that Bakugou would turn red and explodes instead of admitting he’d been caught emoting, “What the fuck are you doing here anyway! You’re doing nothing!”

“No thanks to someone.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes, confused at the implication, but his exploding friend is smart, so he figured it out, and isn’t happy with what he figures out. “The fuck, get your accusing eyes away from me discount Sans, I don’t tattle.”

“No, but you exploded the door which leads to Iida reporting it, which leads to Aizawa inspecting the premises, and him figuring it out that smoked here.”

“That’s just your fucking fault for not covering your trace clean!”

Shouto inhaled indignantly, but then too tired to justify himself. There’s no ending of arguing with Bakugou, and Shouto had learned to choose his battles.

“How about you? How did you get in here?”

“Stole a key from Iida.”

“Are you here to cry again?”

Bakugou’s palms explode, his face an embarrassed flush and teeth bared in anger, “WHOS FUCKING CRYING!!?”

“I have eyes.”

“You’ve been sucking on those death sticks way too much.”

“I wasn’t smoking that type of substance.”

“Whatever, I’m not dealing with this,” Bakugou turns to step away.

“I don’t get it, it’s not a big deal!” Shouto raises his voice a bit, for some reason his heart rate picks up when Bakugou starts leaving. “So what if you sweat through your eyes? Midoriya does it almost every day, sometimes twice a day...”

“Don’t fucking compare me to fucking Deku you fucking fried ice cream!”

“...And Midoriya beat you at this year’s Sports Festival,” Shouto dismissed.

Bakugou grits his teeth, but his eyes watch over Shouto. “Stop stalling and tell me what you want from me,” Bakugou growls.

Shouto’s eyes widen at the sudden honesty, he nibbles on his bottom lips, “Stay here?”

For a second, Bakugou glares at him, but after two years of being his classmate, Shouto can confidently say that they’re friends. He knows Bakugou isn’t angry at him. As to prove his point, Bakugou sits beside him, a bit closer than Shouto expects him to, though still with that permanent scowl. Shouto moves his palms from his pocket, letting go of the aluminum ashtray. Shouto tests the waters and moves closer so their shoulder bumps. No explosions, no snarl, success.

Instantly, Shouto relaxes. Focusing on the pressure of their shoulders, the light shifts Bakugou does (because he can never fully stay still), and the clouds moving. No thought, just being alive.

Alas, no quiet ever lasted long with Bakugou, he expected it though.

“No wonder Aizawa figured it out, this place still stinks of tobacco.”

“It does?” Shouto takes a deep sniff, all he smells is Bakugou’s sweat that always smells sweet because of his quirk. “I didn’t smell anything.”

“Yeah no shit scar head, your nose is probably numb at this point.”

“I don’t smoke that much.”

“Said someone who smoked more than a dozen in one sitting,” Bakugou’s nags turns to worry, “Damn, was it really in one sitting?”

“Is that worry I detected?” Shouto deflects.

Bakugou grits his teeth, “I’m not worried! Go die off lung cancer I don’t fucking care!”

“Good, then, because yes it was, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Fucking hell it’s not! What the actual fuck are your lungs made of? I barely suck it past my throat and I almost coughed out my insides.”

“I missed your dramatics,” Shouto says genuinely, and he waits for an explosion to come. Bakugou doesn’t do well with praises thinly veiled with snark.

It never came, Bakugou watches him closely instead, “Yeah? And who’s fault is that?”

Shouto dared to glare back, but it didn’t last long, he knows the answer. Shouto had come out of his shell nicely, as Momo had put it. He’s still awkward, can’t really quite grasp ‘pop culture’ and how to correctly implied it, but he regularly hangs out with his friends. As of late, he’s noticeably withdrawn. Going straight to his room after class, and opting out of game nights, nail nights, and even soba nights.

They had been giving him space, which he finds endearing. Of course, Bakugou isn’t one to give anything liberally.

“Mine...” Shouto admits, and Bakugou looks surprised.

The fun part of befriending Bakugou is that Shouto could be a bit of a bitch and Bakugou would be a bitch back, and it wouldn’t matter. No one’s feelings were hurt, and Shouto can let go of steam without guilt. Shouto could’ve been in denial, said that Bakugou should step off his dick and no feelings would be hurt.

But he had enough of space, though admittedly, he should’ve confessed that with someone that wants to be in his space.

“Finally, you’re done moping around, everyone’s been on my ass worrying about you.”

“Why would they be on your ass?”

“Hell would I know.”

“Was that the reason you cried?” Shouto is just teasing, but the grim in Bakugou’s face isn’t a familiar one.

“I told you that didn’t happen!” he growls lowly.

Shouto considers, clueless yet curious. “I’ll tell you about me if you told me about you.”

“Just because you’re vomiting your crisis that I didn’t ask for, doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same!”

“Okay, that’s fine too.”

“No, shut-”

“My mom and dad are getting back together.”

Bakugou’s expression mellows to confusion, “That sounds convoluted as hell. Didn’t they just got a divorce or something?”

“They never got a divorce. She’s just sent to a mental hospital and never came home, doesn’t mean the marriage is legally broken.”

The fact seems to sink slow with his explosive friend, “What the fuck.”

Shouto sighs, looking down his jittery hands, his mouth dries. “Last year when I visited my mom, we were talking about the future. She said she’d filed for a divorce, and I’d live with her.” Shouto feels oddly numb, but there’s this dull ache deep in his chest that’s constant. “I should’ve known. She said that before he ‘tried to change’... she said that when everything was still bad, she thought it still happened.”

“What still happened?” Bakugou sounds angry, but he always does.

“I got hurt a lot when I was a kid, because of training. She thought he still hurts me.”

He felt the shoulder beside him tensed. Beside Shouto’s jittery hands is Bakugou’s clenched shaking fist. Shouto looks up from their laps and finds that Bakugou’s face... an eerie stoic.

“Hmmm,” Bakugou hums, and a chill runs down his spine. “When did you start training by the way?” not even a curse in that sentence.

Shouto realizes then, this is Bakugou truly angry, even though Shouto can’t figure out why on earth would he be.

“The day after my quirk manifested.”

His childhood is unforgettable. The day his training starts with fear and pain, then ends with exhaustion and anger. The day Touya never came back, the day his mom left, the longing stare towards the backyard wanting to play with his brother and sister. He remembers it all, like a tattoo in his memory.

“We been knew that Endeavor was an ass but I didn’t know he’s a fucking child abuser.”

The words snap him away from his musing. This time, Bakugou looks angry angry. Teeth-gritting, scowling, boiling anger.

Oh, that’s why he’s angry.

“It was training.”

“Not at five fucking years old you e-boy himbo!” Bakugou barks.

“That’s new, what’s a himbo?”

“Not the fucking point!” Bakugou takes his shoulder away, and suddenly Shouto feels cold. Then he’s held by his shoulders, pinned by sharp maroon eyes, and the lack of warmth turns cold when a growl says, “You’re telling me that your dad’s been abusing you, and no one stopped him? And he’s fucking getting away with it??”

There are so many things wrong with that question and implied statement. One is that it was not abuse. Two is that no one could’ve stopped the then number two hero. Three is that Shouto didn’t tell him any of that but Bakugou assumed anyway.

Shouto doesn’t get to say all of it as Bakugou lets go of him and takes deep breaths. Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly displeased at what he’s thinking.

“Why did you think your mom wants to get back together with your dad?”

Shouto feels relieved now they’re back on topic, “I don’t know. It feels like one moment she’s afraid of him, and now she wants to be with him again. I guess... he did ‘try to be better’. Everyone else seems to forgive him, but I can’t.”

Then Bakugou does something that he didn’t expect, he defends them, “I mean... He’s not that much of a dick now, right? He’s a dick but he was pretty alright when we have a work-study at his agency. And your mom’s better, so maybe they could make it work?”

Shouto knows it’s technically true, but displeasure clawed him still, his blood boiling.

“I don’t care whether it works! I hated that she forgives him so easily!” Shouto shouts.

“Well, that’s selfish of you, isn’t it! It’s her decision, not yours!” Bakugou barks back.

“What the fuck do you know about it?” Shouto spats, he stands up, “They’re going to destroy each other, and what then? Do they want me to just look at their trainwreck while they insist everything is okay? No! I’m not going through that again!”

“You’re just not trusting your mom! Things changed!” Bakugou stands up too, he looks exceptionally angrier than ever.

“No, I don’t. Especially after she said she wanted to get a divorce with him then changing her mind only a year later. Of course, I don’t trust her!”

“But isn’t it better to have both your parents together?”

“No, it doesn’t especially when she’s not happy!”

Bakugou doesn’t bark back, and Shouto only realized how Bakugou’s question was laced with a cracked voice. Shouto looks, only partially surprised that the eyes that look back thinly veiled with tears. The heat in his bloodstream wanes out, more worried/horrified that Bakugou is now openly crying.

This is the worst. Both of them are socially awkward lone wolves that have no idea how and what to do with emotions. So, Shouto does his #best.

“You can tell me.”

Bakugouu glares. Okay, so maybe Shouto’s #best isn’t what he needs.

“Only if you want, if you don’t then it’s okay too.”

“Shut the fuck up, thermostat.”

What else do you do when someone cried? Shouto racks his memories of times when he was crying a lot when he was little, trying to find examples he could follow. He remembers his mom.

“Come here.”

“The fuck are you trying to-”

Shouto cuts him off with a hug. It’s as awkward as it comes. Shouto has his arms around the broad shoulders, his chin hooked on the right side. Shouto doesn’t know how tight he should hug, but it’s enough to press their chest together. Then one of his arms, the left one, rubs Bakugou’s back, emitting a slight warmth. In two languid swipes, Bakugou’s tenseness bleeds slowly.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Shouto says, mimicking what his mom had said once upon a time when he’s upset. “But it’ll be okay. Maybe it’ll take a long time, or it’ll be really hard, but you...” have me, you don’t have to deal with everything alone, was what his mom finished with. He doesn’t know if Bakugou would see him as reliable, but Fuyumi had said that intentions are the most important. “You have your friends, and you have me. I don’t know what will help, but I’ll do it if you asked.”

Shouto surprised himself that he means it. When he encounters an emotionally fragile situation, he usually gets Midoriya, or Urakara, or Momo to handle the situation. With Bakugou however...seeing that his usually prickly friend tipping at the edge like this, Shouto felt like he wants to help. Perhaps it was the camaraderie of the S.S. Emotional Constipation that makes him reach out his personal hand towards Bakugou.

Shouto found another surprise when Bakugou hugs him back, his spiky blond head tucked at the crook of his neck. Shouto also didn’t expect the reflex tears pooling in his eyes at the feeling of tightening arms around his torso. He’s being held, tight and needy. When was the last time he’s held like this? Tears pours without his will when he realized the last time someone hugged him was Touya as Dabi when he was about to burn himself along with Shouto.

They stay there on the rooftop just holding each other as if they’ll fall apart if they don't. When Bakugou lets go, his eyes are even redder than it already is. When those red eyes look up, he noticed the tear streak down Shouto’s face and doesn’t comment about it.

Instead, Bakugou says, “My parents are splitting up.”

Shouto says nothing, only to pull him in his arms again.

They say nothing else as they sit at the same spot on the concrete floor leaning on each other, hand in hand. Shouto instinctually teared up again when he remembered the last time someone holds his hand was his mom as she walked him to a park, all those years ago. Other than that, it was for survival and fighting.

Bakugou leans his head on Shouto’s shoulder first, Shouto says nothing about it. He then leans his face on top of Bakugou’s hair, it feels like a bed of grass, Bakugou says nothing about it too. Shouto realizes that Bakugou can be vulnerable as long as no one points it out. Being untalkative, Shouto can do just that.

The future is scary, especially when their supposed foundation is changing. Bakugou’s foundations are breaking apart, while Shouto had grown accustomed to the torn apart pieces now move together crossing fingers that they fit.

But the future is for tomorrow. The changes are not theirs to make. All they can do now is hold themselves together as everything changes, hoping they don’t break in the process.

Eventually, nightfalls, but none of them moved. Shouto suspects that Bakugou might be sleeping on him.

It’s a suspicion no more when Aizawa found them there, and Bakugou doesn’t stir from being found. Those tired eyes already look exasperated as he finds Shouto’s tear-streaked eyes looking back.

Aizawa sighs, ��Is it life-threatening ?”

Shouto knows that the teacher is prone to worries despite his appearance. Their stumble at first year seems to scar him and made him extra vigilant with his students ever since.

“There’s nothing we could do about it,” Shouto says, which is true, but seemingly a wrong thing to say.

“That doesn’t answer my question, trouble child.” Aizawa scowls, which means his worry cranked up to max. “Are the both of you facing a problem that harms you, or threatening your life?”

“It’s nothing like that,” says the bundle of blond in his shoulder. Bakugou sits up and stretches, yawning so big his jaw seems to unhinge a bit. He doesn’t look angry, just tired. “It’s family drama, you know how it is.”

“Is it really just drama?” Aizawa squints at Bakugou, too knowing for someone without a mind-reading quirk.

Bakugou looks at Shouto, searching and prodding. Shouto doesn’t understand what he could be looking for, or what he wants. Bakugou just sighs, “Yeah, just drama.”

Aizawa looks at Shouto too and softens. “If you two need to cuddle you can just do it in your respective room.”

“Nah, too many nosy people.” Bakugou starts to leave.

Shouto follows with a “Good night Sensei.”

Aizawa grunts.

“We can use my Elsa stairs,” Shouto pipes in as he walks alongside him.

Bakugou looks at him and huffs, “Turns out you’re not a himbo after all.”

Since Bakugou won't tell him, Shouto looks up ‘himbo’ himself. This raises a lot of questions about how Bakugou has been seeing him, but Shouto decides that he’d be offended by it.

++++++

You could still be lonely even though you have tons of sibling, or even when they really love you. I guess they just don’t know how to show us they love us.

He really should’ve known. He really should’ve fucking known.

The thought spins in his head as he smoked the last cigarette on his freshly bought pack. No one to catch him this time. It’s the weekend and he’s supposed to be at home, but it’s unbearable to be in the same room with his family. Usually, he could just slurp his soba in feigning ignorance but not now.

He’s sitting by the bench of a lonely park. He’s been sitting here since sun down. He has no idea what time it is. His phone in his pocket is on silent, he hasn’t checked on it since he walked out.

He should’ve stayed at the dorms, fuck the family dinner.

It’s not that Shouto wants things to end up badly. It’s not like he doesn’t want to be home, especially since his mom finally comes home after so many years. Everyone is happy that she’s back, even Natsuo, even his dad. Everyone except her. It looks so hard for her to be there. Shouto can see in her face that some places still hold strong bad memories for her.

His mother is strong because she pulls through. She holds herself through it all even though it seems only barely.

Yet why is he still so angry at her? Maybe not angry, frustrated. Shouto wants to ask her clarity. Why is she doing this? Why did she change her mind? Why come back here? Why not grasp the independence she had been telling Shouto she strived for? Was she coaxed to be here? Was she feeling some kind of responsibility to go back here? To salvage that sham of a marriage she had with Endeavor?

Shouto wants to ask, wants to understand. He crowded her with questions that moment when they said they’d be getting back together, only for his mom to wince, eyes widen, and quickened breath. For the second time in his life, his mom had looked at him with fear. Today, Shouto could barely meet her eyes again.

Is he really such a monster in her eyes just because he’s half his father? Then why go back to his father at all?

Shouto bought half a dozen packs as per tradition. Also because of his self implied tradition, he puts all the ashes in the coffin-shaped ashtray, even though there’s a park ashtray right beside him.

“You carry that everywhere,” Says a groveling voice that Shouto would notice anywhere.

Bakugou is in casuals. Black jeans and a grey hoodie seem like he’s out in a hurry. Just like Shouto.

“You’ve got to stop stalking me,” Shouto inhales deep, watching red amber burns till the filter and sighs.

“Who fucking stalking you Zuko.”

“Zuko doesn’t have-”

“Shut up,” Bakugou plop his ass beside Shouto, sitting waaay too close. He snatched the coffin tin, inspecting it. “Even when you didn’t smoke you carried this.”

“How did you know?”

“It shows your pocket, not big enough for a phone.”

Shouto knows he can’t get away once Bakugou began prying. “My first friend gave it to me.”

“That fucking Deku???”

“No,” Shouto chuckles at the image of Midoriya taking the role of what his first friend did. “It’s someone I met first-year junior high. She gave me this after introducing me to cigarettes.”

“That’s so fucking passive-aggressive I would’ve punched her in her teeth,” Bakugou grumbles, putting the ashtray to Shouto’s lap. “And why the fuck would anyone smoke at thirteen anyway!”

“Exactly because we’re thirteen, Katsuki, just because,” Shouto chuckles again at the memory. Seemingly too carefree from the nicotine, Bakugou had become Katsuki in his tongue. Katsuki bristles at his given name, but says nothing about it. It mysteriously made Shouto very happy.

“Among everything though, she was my first best friend, she teaches me a lot of things that make me who I am. She made me realize that I didn’t have to follow my dad’s wishes. That I can be what I want to be instead of what I was born for. That it’s valid to be lonely even though I technically have a big family. That it’s okay to not strive to be the best and just to be... happy.”

Shouto closes his eyes, remembering her lessons always fell bitter-sweet. But he’ll hold it in his heart forever.

“What you’re born for?” Katsuki says scathingly.

“Yeah, you know about this.” Shouto was told that Katsuki had eavesdropped on his conversation with Midoriya. Shouto was born to fulfill another man’s vendetta. A purpose first, and a son last.

“Seem like a wise person for a thirteen-year-old,” Katsuki sneers.

“She was, I loved her,” Shouto’s confession brings Katsuki’s face to a red grimace.

“Shit, I didn’t ask you to tell me your fucking secrets.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Oh, really?” Katsuki spat bitterly, “Then why are you hiding your girlfriend from us?”

So many things wrong with that question. Shouto raises his eyebrows in surprise, “She’s not my girlfriend, and I’m not hiding her. She’s dead.”

The grimace fell like a hot potato, it would’ve been fun watching how Katsuki splutters if he didn’t look like he’s legit choking. “Holy fuck, that's... fuck, then why the shit you’re so stoic talking about it,” Katsuki seems appalled.

“It happens a long time ago. She seems accepting of her death that I... well I want to respect her decision.” Shouto knows it’s weird to not feel mournful of the departure of your closest friend. He still misses her, but she had been so positive until the very moment she left. Shouto was sure that she’s happy, so Shouto wants to be happy for her.

Katsuki paled, horrified, seemingly to misunderstand again.

“She had a terminal illness. Very likely no chance of survival. She chose to live her remaining time normally instead of undergoing treatment.”

“There’s... There’s no way her parents let her do that.”

“They’re economically challenged. They tried though, just too late in the end.”

“Fuck...” Katsuki cursed, running through his hair roughly. “Never thought you’d be the type of person to have life-changing moments like that.”

“A lot of people have proven to me that everyone has potential to be unexpected, and that’s just how it is.” Shouto looks pointedly at Katsuki, who glares at him in retaliation. “There’s a reason why we’re both here instead of home.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki mumbles, clearly not wanting to talk.

Shouto doesn’t too, to be honest, and yet keeping it in feels more exhausting, “My mom’s home.”

“No shit?” Katsuki was mildly surprised, “So it’s really happening huh.”

“It’s like walking on eggshells with her. I wanted to ask, but last time I did she flinched at me. I couldn’t look at her today.”

Katsuki sighs. This time, Katsuki is the one that scoots over till their shoulders touched all the way to their thighs. The contact makes Shouto breathes easier, he’s drawn to it like moths to a flame. His body goes limp as if it’s been too tense too long from holding itself together, and he drapes himself on top of Katsuki. Shoulder pressed together, his head heavily falls on Katsuki’s shoulder. Instinctually, his hand looks for another hand. Katsuki snakes around his hand and clasps it with his. It’s uncharacteristic, but Shouto finds himself grateful for it.

It’s warm, it’s damp, it’s grounding. Like lying on even earth after running away for so long.

“I don’t want her to be with him under the obligation that parents are supposed to be together for the kids. She’s been through so much, I would’ve understood, but I didn’t know how to say it without triggering her.” Silence follows, and Shouto realized what he said. “Sorry, uh, I’m not insinuating-”

“Shut up candy cane, I know.” Katsuki leans closer, his head on top of Shouto’s.

It’s warm, just what he needs in the middle of an emotional crisis at the beginning of November. It’s a bit out of character for Katsuki to do this, nor Shouto, neither of them are known for physical contact or talking about their personal lives. Yet here they are.

And Katsuki speaks anyway, “They’re fighting.”

Shouto, contrary to what Katsuki called him, isn’t a himbo. He knows who they are and he knows what a fight could entail.

“Did they hurt each other when they fight?” Shouto asks, then mused even if they did, could Katsuki do anything about it? Shouto couldn’t back then.

“No!” Katsuki says, indignant, “Of course not, they’re just bitching at each other about... about... I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid.”

“Hm, that’s good.”

“Fucking hell it’s good, they’re being idiotic!”

“They’re not hurting each other.”

Katsuki paused, his hands clenched tighter, “Did he hurt your mom when they fight?”

Shouto takes a deep inhale at the surge of memory. The fear that settles is old, he knows. Just leftover trauma that never went away, still, it bubbled to the surface, makes his skin cold.

Not trusting his voice, Shouto nods.

“They were fighting about me,” Katsuki says after a while, his voice a bit shaky, and Shouto knows better than to point it out. He keeps his head on the shaking shoulder and listens. “They didn’t know I was listening, they never did. They never... Turn-Turns out they didn’t even plan on having me.”

Katsuki holds his hand tighter and trembling.

“I’m a fucking accident,” Katsuki spat, venom dripping in every word. “Then they had a shotgun wedding, they didn’t even love each other at all.”

Shouto hears one escape of a sniff and lets himself relax, feigning clueless that Katsuki must’ve been crying. He lets the silence stretches until the hand holding his relaxed and the shaking subsides. Shouto had the same breakdown before. It downs to him that they’re not so different after all, children of a loveless relationship. Though he wonders if that instantly means he’s unloved. It had felt that way, but now... now it feels so much complicated than yes or no.

“Does it matter why we’re born?” Shouto hears a deep inhale of an incoming rant but he cuts it off with, “We’re our own person, with our own lives, and our own dreams. No one can tell us otherwise. Not even the one who makes us.” Shouto pauses and listens, what came to his ears is soft breathing, so he continues. “So what you’re not planned? That doesn’t mean you’re unwanted,” Shouto rubs his thumb over the damp knuckles, “You’re not unloved.”

Because Shouto had been to the Bakugo residence. Bakugou Mitsuki is as explosive as he is, but he can see her adoring stare at her son even when she’s scolding him. Bakugou Masaru is softer, always trying to calm both of them and giving small smiles when Shouto tells him stories about his son at school.

“What the fuck do you know, water dispenser?” Katsuki lowly growls, but it doesn’t have that biting hate, he doesn’t move away from Shouto.

So Shouto only hums and lets the silence stretch. He grabs the ashtray with his other hand, rubbing the plain surface with his thumb, remembering her, thanking her.

“What’s her name?” Katsuki says after minutes of silence, his voice with less snarl.

“Arisu.”

“... I’m sorry you lost her.”

And that’s what happened, isn’t it? Shouto may be able to let her go, but she’s still lost to him. Still hurts, Shouto still mises her. “Thank you.”

They didn’t let go of each other until Shouto’s phone rings. It’s Natsuo. His brother is just as unhappy about their parents' reunion, though for him it’s more about hating their dad and less about questioning their mother as Shouto did. Natsuo called to offer to spend the rest of the weekend at his place. Shouto immediately agrees, then he remembers Katsuki.

“Is it okay if I bring one of my friends?”

Katsuki instantly glowers at him.

“Who?”

“Katsuki.”

“Who??”

“Bakugou.”

“Oh, yeah sure. Buy some dinner on the way, I didn’t get to eat much.”

“Okay, me too.”

As soon as they hang up, Katsuki bares his teeth.

“Who says I’ll go with you, Pokeball?” His voice raised a bit, his arms crossing defensively.

“I’m not, I said if. You don’t have to, but if you want, you can.”

“No one fucking asked you for shelter,” Katsuki scoffs, facing away.

“I know...” Shouto knows Katsuki would rather leave than accept help. The only way he accepts it is that if no one acknowledges it. He knows Katsuki can take care of himself, but Shouto is the one that doesn’t want him to leave just yet. Shouto knows he’ll go back to Natsuo’s place only to hear him bitch about Endeavor when the real problem is with their mom and her odd decision.

“Can’t you just stay for dinner?” The desperation in his voice is real, Katsuki seems to notice it and is bewildered by it. “Please?”

Katsuki’s eyes widen at the magic word because no, Shouto doesn’t say it often, much less towards Katsuki, he had enough ego already.

Nose flared and fist clenched, Katsuki finally barks, “Fine! But we’re cooking instead of ordering take-out, I fucking know what you’re gonna get you soba simp. Your brother better has a kitchen.”

“He does,” Shouto replies, the upbeat tone in his voice is rare. Can you blame him? He’s excited that he’s not coming home, and Katsuki goes with him with his admittedly superior cooking.

At Natsuo’s apartment, Shouto helped Katsuki cook, nothing more than chopping stuff. Natsuo gave him a brief summary of what happened at home after Shouto left, but thankfully, he’s not saying too much because Katsuki is there. Once Natsuo finished talking and left to get beers, Shouto gives Katsuki an arm squeeze of thanks. Katsuki only grunts.

Dinner is ‘simple’ in Katsuki’s opinion. Stir-fried vegetables, miso soup, and hamburg steak. As always, it’s delicious, and Natsuo who’s none the wiser to Katsuki’s God-like cooking skill is blown away.

They’re in the living area on the sofa watching TV when Shouto scoots closer again. Natsuo is in his room studying.

“You can stay here for the rest of the weekend if you want,” Shouto says, bumping shoulders.

Katsuki frowns, eyes on the screen. “I don’t have my change of clothes with me.”

“You can borrow mine, I have some here.”

“Ran away a lot don’t you?” Katsuki sneers.

“You have no idea,” Shouto admits.

The sneer falls, “Why?”

“Just because I finally can.”

“You couldn’t before?”

Shouto shakes his head, finding his head heavy, so he lays his head on Katsuki’s shoulder again. “Before he was number one, he insists on using all my free time on training. If I didn’t, he’d take my phone, or the internet, or my manga, even burned them on some occasion. He even flushed my pet fish, rest in peace Kiya. Then he’s number one, and the dorms are established... so...”

Shout shrugs. He doesn’t reach for Katsuki’s hand this time, just pressed against him, afraid if he pushed then Katsuki would retract. Shouto doesn’t want to stop his newfound comfort just yet.

Then his hand is grasped by a firm clammy hand. Shouto keeps thinking of how Katsuki’s sweaty hands must be because of the nitroglycerin of his quirk. If he’s not thinking about Katsuki’s quirk then he’d think about how it makes his heart skipped a beat that Katsuki initiates the touch again. So yeah, clammy hands that hold him tight.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?” Katsuki says, weaker than he’s accustomed to. It makes Shouto wary.

“I don’t know what is there to tell.”

A groan stretches, “What do I do with you?”

“Hey...” Shouto mock complains “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Does he still train you like that?”

Shouto feels a bit of whiplash with all these questions. Katsuki has been asking personal questions left and right, and Shouto doesn’t understand why answering it doesn’t feel as hard as usual.

“No, not since he became number 1.”

Katsuki scoffs, “Got what he wanted didn’t he?”

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s the case. When he got it, he didn’t seem happy, just angry. Then he started wanting the family he broke to get that number one spot.”

That renders Katsuki to another bout of silence. He knows Katsuki strives to be number one too, and at first, Shouto had ridiculed him about it. Why does a superficial title mean so much anyway? Katsuki changed over the years though, with Midoriya being the main cause of it.

Heart on his throat, Shouto dare asks, “Hey, Katsuki? Why do you want to be a hero?”

Katsuki tensed, but Shouto holds him tighter, “Why are you getting nosy all of the sudden?”

Shouto knows he’s not getting things easy, “I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, that’s nosy.”

“No, I just want to get to know you.” Shouto bites his lips as soon as the words left, was that too forward?

They’re not looking at each other, but Shouto can feel the glare directed at him. “Why?”

“We’ve been friends for a while...”

“We’re not fucking friends-!”

“...But I feel like I’m taking you for granted. I didn’t even know you’re going through something so big.” Some friend I am, Shouto broods.

It takes a few seconds, but Katsuki defeatedly sighs, and Shouto smiles in victory, “At first, I just want to be the best.”

“Best at what?”

“Everything...” Katsuki muses, his head knocked back, “Then I realized that it was an impossible goal... Did a lot of thinking, did a lot of uh, self-reflecting. Started talking to Ito-san too. I realized that I just want to be needed.”

It makes sense why Katsuki is here then. Shouto wished he could outright say that he needs him so Katsuki would stay longer, but just imagining him doing so already makes him pink in embarrassment.

Ito-san is the school counselor, her doors are open for every UA student. Shouto had half the mind to go to her, but there’s always this weight of silence from being a son of a high-profile hero. Endeavor always drilled him about secrecy and how he shouldn’t say anything about his family to anyone or it’ll ruin everything. It’s the reason why Arisu was his only friend, she was dying, and she did take his secret to her grave. Shouto still feels guilty about that.

“Have you ever talked to Ito-san?” Katsuki asked as if reading his mind.

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Everything that comes out of my mouth is tabloid-worthy. Endeavor had drilled me from way young that I can’t run my mouth about our lives. He’s right about that at least, I didn’t want paparazzi swarming us demanding half-assed rumors if I can help it. It had happened before, someone even sneaked into my mom’s hospital to reach her. I guess... that’s also why I never told anyone at all about anything.”

“You told Arisu didn’t you?”

Shouto bites his lip, guilt gnaws at him, “Because I know she won't carry my secrets long enough.” Please don’t hate me. Shouto’s grip on Katsuki tighten.

“But you told Deku, you told me.”

“Well, I trust you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing. “You sure you don’t want to stay over?”

Katsuki leans away, and the cold strikes immediately. Shouto leans back, pointedly not looking at red irises.

“Fine.”

Shouto quickly looks up, then he finds Katsuki’s face odd. There’s something familiar with it. He’s... smiling, only slightly, but it’s a smile, and his eyes aren’t furrowed or angry or glaring. His eyebrows relaxed and he looks.... soft. Maybe Shouto fell asleep and currently dreaming.

“I’ll need to call my parents first,” Katsuki says after clearing his throat, looking away a bit flushed.

“Sure, I’ll get you settled.”

Shouto is half excited half worried. He told Natsuo that Katsuki will be borrowing the couch, which only replied with a hum while his eyes doesn’t leave the book. His brother is not unfamiliar with runaways. Shouto isn’t the only one seeking shelter at his place.

Shouto passes the balcony where Katsuki is screaming at his phone. Shouto can only hear muffles, but he gives Katsuki some privacy and gets some spare clothes. When Shouto sees that Katsuki is still on the phone even after ten minutes have passed, he takes the liberty of taking a shower first.

When Shouto walks out, he finds Katsuki sitting by the sofa, his hands suspiciously inflamed. He faces the screen but looking particularly nowhere. Shouto had seen those empty looks before.

“Katsuki?”

He jerks slightly as his name is called. Katsuki schooled his expression to a careful stoic, walls up. No matter, Shouto thinks, sometimes you don’t need to tear down walls to help a person, just hold their hand through the gate.

“Go take a shower, bath’s warm.”

Katsuki nods, taking the towel Shouto offered and the spare clothes. Shouto makes tea, for him, his brother, and Katsuki. Shouto delivers the cup of tea to Natsuo’s room, seems like the books are multiplying around his brother.

“Tea,” Shouto says before putting it on a coaster.

“Thanks.” Natsuo finally looks away from the book and takes a sip. “That Bakugou, how is he?” Natsuo asks, knowing that Shouto only brings his friend here in a dire situation.

The only other person he brought was Kaminari, believe it or not. Kaminari had said he didn’t want to come home for the weekend because he was scared of facing his parents after he came out via text. From the replies, it hadn’t been good. Kaminari spent the rest of the stay switching between sobbing and full-on crying. Only God knows why Kaminari asked him instead of any of the Baku-squad, but Kaminari is still his friend too, so Shouto provides.

But today with Katsuki is different though. Shouto had to beg him to stay, whether it’s for the benefit of him or Shouto the line had blurred.

“Hopefully he will be,” Is all Shouto can offer. Natsuo nods before going back to his book.

Shouto lays out his futon in the living room adjacent to the sofa. He’s laying down, scrolling at his phone. Putting his dad on read and ignoring Fuyumi’s and mom’s chatbox. He opted to look at cat videos instead. Soon, Katsuki came out of the bathroom, drank the offered tea, and laid down on the sofa.

They spent probably an hour separately looking at their phones when Shouto finally calls it a night. He turned off the lights, and tuck himself in. Before he said goodnight, Shouto thinks and his desires take.

“Wanna hang out tomorrow?” he asked.

Blood red eyes look at him from the screen, “Where?”

Shouto shrugs, “I don’t know, just around, get my mind off things. There’s a cat cafe I’ve been wanting to see, then we’ll go from there.”

Katsuki stares, seemingly thinking it over, “Have you ever been to a rock climbing gym?”

“A what?”

Katsuki smirks, sharp-teethed and evil, “Oh you’re in for a fucking experience, red velvet oreo.”

Shouto is a bit suspicious, even so, he finds himself looking forward to tomorrow.

+++++

I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but you shouldn’t think that way. Of course you’ll have more friends. You’re more lovable than you think, Shouto.

Something changed between them after that weekend. Comfort grows between them. Comfort that they don’t want to let go just yet, perhaps not anytime soon.

The bad thing about it is that everyone notices. Everyone.

To their friend's credit though, they came to school together, walking very close to each other. It was fully initiated by Shouto, but Katsuki didn’t snap or push him away, so he assumed everything is okay.

Everything is absolutely not okay because the moment he walks to class everyone has eyes on them. Shouto thought it won’t matter to him, but Katsuki tends to be defensive. When Katsuki is defensive, he pushes people away. Shouto tried not to watch Katsuki for the whole class.

Momo noticed, of course, but she notices more than superficial things.

“Shouto,” Momo whispers, “Everything alright?”

Shouto gives her a smile and nods.

It’s not until they’re getting up for lunch that Shouto is tested in a form of Kirishima.

“Bakubro! How long have you been dating Todobro?”

The world screech halt, and Kirishima tensed at the sudden chill he’s feeling. When Kirishima found the source of burning in his back, he sees Shouto, glaring hard and terrifyingly at him. Face darkens, pupils small, ready to kill.

Kirishima squeaks, “He-hey, uh-”

“Back off Kiri, it’s none of your business,” is all Katsuki says. Not even a scream, just a conversational tone as if he’s bored. No defensiveness, no snarling at Shouto in retaliation. “The fuck are yall extras staring at? Move outta my way, I’m hungry!” Then he left.

No one is barging Shouto with questions instead. It’s out of character of his classmates to not poke their nose in something juicy, but as he drops his butt at his chair, he finds himself alone in class.

Shouto is left in class with a big wave of relief, so much that he couldn’t stand. Why is it that the thought of Katsuki pushing him away scares him this much?

A hand landed on his desk, he looks up to find Momo’s honest stare, “Something is not alright.”

Shouto sighs, “No.”

Unlike Katsuki, Momo never pries, only assuring that she’s there for him. Unlike Momo, Katsuki understands that some things can’t be fixed, wherein if he opens up to Momo and some others, they tried to help by fixing. The number of times his friends told him, again and again, to go to Ito-san when they found out about Dabi being his brother is an exhausting amount. Maybe that’s why Shouto has been more comfortable with laying his problems to Katsuki.

So he eats lunch with Momo in the silence of comfortable company, and there’s just that.

+++++

Thank you for being there for me. You’re the bestest best friend I could ever wish for. And you won’t be lonely for long, you’ll see.

Shouto has peaceful days following that first Monday. His comfort with Katsuki doesn’t change. Though they don't get together on the rooftop anymore (Iida never let go of his key since Katsuki managed to steal it), they still gravitate towards each other whenever they don’t feel particularly great.

Katsuki would approach and say things like, “They want me home this weekend.”

“You wanna stay at the dorms or my place?”

“Can’t. I know they wanted to talk to me about who I wanna stay with.”

“We can make up an excuse if you want.”

“Hm.”

Then they spent the rest of the day together, just sitting at the school’s lawn, looking at particularly nothing. And if they sit too close together and their clasped hands only partially hidden by their legs, no one pointed it out.

Shouto would approach and say things like, “Fuyumi wants to call me, I know she’s just gonna talk about how I’m tearing the family apart.”

Katsuki snaps from his bed towards the window where Shouto is stepping down from his Elsa stairs.

Katsuki’s shock then turns to fury, “Your sister, Fuyumi, THAT Fuyumi said that to you?”

“She wanted the family together. I think she’s frustrated that I keep making my parents' union difficult.”

“You know what, her spicy mapo tofu isn’t that delicious anyway!” Katsuki barks his hands clenched down mini-explosions. It’s one of Katsuki’s outbursts that Shouto doesn’t understand, nor does he understand why her mapo tofu is related in any way, so he doesn’t comment.

“I’m gonna head up to the roof, wanna come?”

“No, you’ll just smoke and you’d give me fucking cancer.”

Shouto feels cold, Katsuki had never said no from hanging out before, “Fine.”

“Who said you can leave? Come here!” Katsuki held his ankle from the balcony, gripping tight.

Shouto blinks, remembering what Aizawa-sensei had said some days ago. “Oh, are we gonna cuddle?”

Katsuki’s face set aflame, “Just fucking come in here Katy Perry, before I yank you by your stupid Poland flag hair.”

Shouto finds himself obeying at the thought of cuddling, but then confused, “Why Katy Perry?”

“Hot and cold.”

“I guess that’ll make sense if I know who Katy Perry is but.”

Katsuki spat a curse, “Alright, time for a session of pop culture.”

“But I already had them with Mina and Sero”

“And they’re doing a shit job about it if you didn’t know the person that shapes a whole ass generation.”

It started with a music video of Hot and Cold by Katy Perry and ends with a retelling biography of Lady Gaga. Who knew Katsuki is so knowledgeable about female pop stars.

“TELL ANYONE AND DIE,” He said after Shouto pointed it out.

Most important of all, they did cuddle. They were sitting on the bedside then suddenly they’re laying down side by side. They’re watching a gameplay video of a Swedish man playing a horror game, another important role in pop culture as Katsuki said. It’s an old video, and Katsuki said that the man owns some part of Antarctica, which Shouto knows it’s some kind of an inside joke.

The nights getting late, and Shouto is reminded of the text on his phone, how it vibrates occasionally. Shouto has been in Katsuki’s room for four hours, but he doesn’t want to go back to his room.

Katsuki notices him lingering, “You wanna stay here for the night?”

Shouto looks up from Katsuki’s phone with big sparkling eyes, “You sure?”

“Tch, I wouldn’t have offered if I don’t.” Katsuki looks away, exposing his neck that seems red to the tip of his ears, “It’ll be a little cramp though with my single bed.”

“I don’t mind it. Just don’t kick me out of bed.”

“No promises.”

Katsuki didn’t. He curled away from Shouto as soon as the blankets tucked. Their backs pressed against each other because of the small space. Shouto finds it hard to fall asleep, could be the new environment or the gnawing anxiety.

He’ll admit that Fuyumi is his favorite sibling. She’s there for him when he was condemned in that lonely manor only to train and study. Fuyumi stays back for him, tend to his wounds, cook for him, keep him company. Natsuo had left and rarely come back, even though he’s there for Shouto in the end.

Then his dad had a bootleg redemption arc and Fuyumi dropped him like hot potato and shoved both of them together despite what Shouto feels about his dad. When his parents are getting back together, Fuyumi stopped consoling Shouto and started to support them blindly. So desperate to have their family together. Doesn’t she know that there’s nothing to salvage? Doesn’t she remember what he did?

“I can hear you from here, air conditioner,” Katsuki grumbles, his back vibrates, “Go to sleep.”

“I’m trying.”

Shouto can’t stop thinking, can’t stop getting angry and getting hurt. It hurts when his sister is pointing the blame at Shouto, it hurts even more when it’s kind of true. It hurts that despite his fear of facing her, he still owes her a call at least. He’ll never be ready for what she’s about to say, never be ready to be hurt by her. Shouto turns around and buries his face at Katsuki’s back, ducking under the cover.

“What is it?’ Katsuki asks, not demanding, but Shouto’s floodgates are opened.

“I don’t understand how they could forgive him. He hurts mom, he hurts Touya to a point that he left and hates us, and he... he hurts me. It’s just training but-but- fine, okay, it hurt and I was scared most of the time that he’s not gonna pull his punches. Fuyumi forgives him so easily, and mom just went back in there even though they were never in love in the first place. It’s like they’ve forgotten what he had done, how deeply he scars all of us. Like what- like what happened didn’t matter.” Shouto’s voice breaks the whole time, a sob escaped in between the jumbled words and he’s trying so hard, so hard not to cry.

Katsuki turns around, his arms wrapped around Shouto’s hunched shoulders. A burnt sweet scent hits his nostrils, his face pressed against a defined neck and collarbones. All tenseness bleeds away when Katsuki starts rubbing his back, and tears break from his eyes without his will. Shouto wraps his arms around his friend’s torso, feeling his chest constrict when Katsuki mercifully says nothing about the silent tears landing on his chest.

He shuts his lips, pressing tightly because he’s not sobbing to Katsuki’s chest. They’re comfortable with each other but not that comfortable... right? Shouto’s tolerance to breakdown cries is thanks to exposure to crying most of his childhood, the same can’t be said for Katsuki. The hug is enough, it’s everything. Shouto never realized how much he craved being touched until that day Katsuki sits way too close to him.

His lips pressed tight keeping from sobbing, but his hands tremble on Katsuki’s back instead.

“Damn, you’re touch starved aren’t you,” Katsuki sighs to his hair, his face buried there.

“I didn’t know,” Shouto’s voice shaking pathetically, breaking at the edge and Shouto is too torn to care about it.

“Me too.”

Shouto doesn’t know which one Katsuki meant, but neither let go until they sleep.

++++++

I love you too, Shouto. Don’t be scared of letting people in, okay? Not all of them are gonna leave you, I promise.

Things get rough, but their comfort pushes each other through.

Katsuki chooses to stay with his dad, but he’s co-parenting with his mom. Katsuki spends his weekends at both their house, switching every weekend. There’s still tenseness between his parents, and Katsuki explodes whenever his dad or mom asks Katsuki about the other. ‘Stop fucking asking me! If you wanna know so much then you shouldn’t have gotten the divorce!’ Katsuki doesn’t want to hear their reasoning, feeling better to just accept the change and move on, but Shouto thinks he’s just not ready to hear it. Sometimes Katsuki stays at the dorms with Shouto or the Todoroki estate when he gets overwhelmed.

Shouto finally talks to his mom. At first, it didn’t go anywhere. She’s as unsure as Shouto, but her willingness to try and salvage the marriage is as honest as it comes, even though her feelings might not be there yet. It feels like hearing Fuyumi talk, hearing the same desperation and blindness in putting things together. It’s hard to understand her foolishness, but Shouto tried to trust her. Shouto’s opinion might have been persuaded a little when his father announced that they’ll be moving houses due to mom’s tense reaction to the place. It’s a plus that his dad is willing to do that for his wife, but Shouto is still keeping an eye on them.

Then things get better, but their comfort doesn’t stop. Shouto is comfortable in following his desires without questioning them, but he quizically finds that Katsuki seeks him too even though he no longer approach Shouto with that near tears scowl, and situation bomb.

“How’s your mom?” Katsuki asked out of the blue under the summer blue sky. They’re sitting by the school lawn, their backs to a tree trunk, their friends strangely been leaving them alone.

“She’s fine.”

“Then why did you want to meet here?” Katsuki murmurs, looking down at the comic book Shouto lends him but not reading it. The tips of his ears are red.

Oh, Katsuki is testing the waters, “I just want to be with you.”

Katsuki flushes, “Ew, where the fuck did you even get that cheesy line.”

Shouto pays the snark no mind. “We haven't had any excuses for being together lately, do we?”

Katsuki hums.

“Do you not like it?”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki grumbles.

“Say... If I ask you to go to a cat cafe this Saturday, will you go?”

“Satan in hell, cat cafe again? I still have fucking fur on my black jacket from the previous visit! I felt like we’ve been to all the cat cafes in the country!”

Shouto pouts, “That’s not possible.”

“Let’s go hiking instead.”

“Okay.”

Katsuki twist his head towards him, “You would?”

“Just us two right?”

“Obviously, there’s no way I’m taking those extras. Those nature documentaries made them wimps.”

Shouto only listened to the first word he uttered, “I’ll go with you.”

Then Katsuki looks him that way again. Soft eyes, relaxed eyebrows, fond stares, and the most devastating of all, a small genuine smile.

“Cool. Come to my place, we have to wake up early. I miss seeing the sunset there, it’s awesome.” There’s light in his maroon eyes, excited to go, and he’s taking Shouto with him to his hobby, his precious place.

Shouto feels warmth radiating from his chest all the way down to his toes, a smile blooms on his face. He’s been feeling this mysterious warmth pretty often lately, only now has he realized that Shouto is happy and that he hasn’t been lonely despite his current family strain.

Katsuki’s rambling about his favorite hiking spot is cut short when Shouto leans in to kiss the corner of his lips. The smile is exchanged with shocked parted lips. Shouto feels himself shrink by the silence of Katsuki’s loud mouth and the pinning stare of his sharp eyes. Blood rushed to Shouto’s cheeks, knowing that he’s blushing up a storm, suddenly nervous.

“Is that okay?” Shout asks, too cowardly to say that he wants more, closer, to continue being together for no reason at all other than just because.

“No.”

He’s grabbed by the face, and a pair of lips pressed against his. Shouto expected to be bitten, his head clawed, and his lips bruised. But the weeks he spent with Katsuki should’ve made him know better. Because the gentle hands cradling his face, the complete capture of his lips, and the soft nips are all unsurprising. Shouto melts away, leaning his whole weight so they’re chest to chest. He grabs Katsuki by the hips, pulling closer, kissing back.

Katsuki hums, and the vibration echoes on Shouto’s body deliciously. Katsuki’s lips taste sweet and hot as it moves to nibble Shouto’s bottom lip. The hands cupping his face moves past his neck. One is clutching his back and the other plays with the hair at the back of his head. Fingers card gently around his nape and Shouto has a whole body shiver.

Then the lips go missing, and Shouto goes limp in Katsuki’s arms, gasping for breath on his chest.

“And that’s how you kiss, Strawberry Shortcake,” Katsuki says smugly, patting Shouto’s back condescendingly.

Shouto scoffs and leans back. Katsuki still has that fond eyes as he looks at him, but now paired with a cheeky smirk. Shouto wants to kiss that too, and Shouto does.

From then on, it’s expected that he sometimes steps down his icy stairs just to cuddle with Katsuki, and it’s perfectly acceptable that Katsuki barges into his room and starts pulling his hand towards wherever he wants.

They’d still bicker sometimes, and sometimes Shouto unintentionally steps on some lines that set Katsuki to explode. Sometimes Katsuki is frustrated with him. Those days they fight makes him nervous.

But they always say their apologies eventually. Katsuki always comes back and tries again with him. Even when the fights are between them, they eventually get over it and get better while they’re still leaning onto each other for comfort.

Eventually, Shouto keeps the coffin ashtray in his keepsake instead of his pocket.

He’d like to think that he can finally let her go now that she’s proven right.

Shouto finds someone that loves him, someone that makes him happy, and someone that doesn’t leave.

++++

nicknames that didn't make it: Colgate toothpaste, hot pocket, tide pod, dry ice. nicknames that I magically forgot: Half and half.

Tag yourself as Shouto’s nickname, I’m water dispenser.

#todobaku #bakutodo #todoroki shouto #todoroki shōto #bakugo katsuki #todobaku fic #todobaku fanfic #Todobaku fanfiction #emocel's #I'm crying #i googled shouto's nickname for this #I saw 'Strawberry Shorcake' and I lose my mind #I saw a trope that Bakugo smells like caramel becs of his quirk and i lose my mind #todoroki shoto fluff #boku no hero #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction

15 notes · View notes