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slyblonder · 2 months

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King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

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a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

#ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #song mingi smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #slyblonder

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

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Slow Hands | Chapter 10

“the lone moose”

A/N: disclaimer before we get into this chapter, this is a very emotionally/mentally heavy chapter that might not be suitable for everyone. The main topic of this chapter and the next is focused around Joel’s attempted suicide and Tommy’s C-PTSD. This content maybe triggering for some, and if that is the case, please do not read if you feel triggered. Warnings will be marked appropriately. Take care of yourselves first. And as always, a huge thanks to my beta @angelofsmalldeath-codeine 🤍

~word count: 6.9k~

Summary: the wolves of Jackson are lurking

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: !DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! thoughts of suicide, semi-graphic depictions of attempted suicide, brief moment of stigmatizing suicide (Tommy’s reaction) canon-typical violence, graphic depiction of an injury, semi-graphic depictions of childloss (and the trauma that comes with it) angst, grief, guilt, anxiety, heavy topics, anger, overwhelming emotions, C-PTSD responses, fear responses, no age gap, readers nicknames is Beanie (coffee beans) +18 minors DNI! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!

Slow Hands Masterlist

Two days had passed since Joel and Ellie took the steps together to make up. Joel already had a visible pep in his step, and a lightness in his eyes that Tommy hadn’t seen in his brother for over 20 years. Joel’s back still ached, but the pain was subdued.

Patrol was long and uneventful. The two brothers only had a handful of evidence gathered to present to Maria, but neither would give up hope. After untacking Tex and Timber, Joel and Tommy turned both horses out in one of pastures just outside the stables. Tess was grazing alongside the fence when Timber and Tex went to greet her.

A wave of melancholy washed over his features as he watched Tex and Tess nuzzle one another affectionately. He thought of you, of course.

“Hey, Joel?” Tommy asked alongside him with his arms resting along the wooden fence. “Y’wanna have a drink with me real quick at the Tipsy Bison before y’head home?” He rasped softly.

“I’d love to, but I promised Ellie we’d have a movie night tonight. Can’t go and let her down, y’know? How about tomorrow?” Joel suggested with a grin.

“Ah, movie night with the kiddo. Hey, I think that’s great that y’all are movin’ forward. Tomorrow sounds good.” Tommy responded with a genuine smile. It was a relief that he and Joel were growing close again. He missed his brother terribly.

“Yeah, and Beanie as well. I let Ellie pick out the movie. Think she said we were gonna watch Curtis and Viper 2.” Joel stifled a chuckle as he glanced down at the toe of his boots.

“Aw shit, that’s a good one! Well, you enjoy yourself, okay? Adios, big brother. See ya in the mornin.’” Tommy reached over and gave Joel a side hug before he pushed himself off the fence.

“See ya in the mornin, Tommy.” Joel mumbled to himself with a smile slowly creeping over his lips. Truthfully, he was rather excited for this movie night with you and Ellie. He couldn’t picture a better way to spend his evening than with his two favorite girls.

“Hey, Tex? Y’keep a good eye on your gal tonight. Y’hear? I’ll see ya in the mornin’, pal.” He spoke softly as his horse lifted his head from where he was grazing. He let out a snort in response as his tail swished away at the pesky flies.

The weight of Tommy’s letter in Joel’s pocket felt ten times heavier than when Joel first had written it. He thought about making a quick pit stop at the Tipsy Bison to give it to him, but tomorrow was a new day. He’d give the letter to Tommy first thing in the morning.

Ellie’s carved wooden fawn was tucked away in the inside pocket of his flannel. He brought it on patrol to show Tommy, and because he liked having a piece of his baby girl with him. Tonight he’d give her the gift, and to you, his precious star, something that twinkled like the night sky; matching charm bracelets. Two golden hearts dangling from the chains. Appearing brand new, untouched. The names Peggy carved into one, and Steve into the other. Lovers from the past, and now lovers in the present.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on your pretty face when he would present the bracelet to you. He said one last goodbye to the horses. He’d pass by your home en route to his own as he usually did every evening after patrol. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he noticed a figure looming in the distance. He squinted his eyes through the harsh rays of the setting sun. He approached the figure with cautious steps.

As far as he was concerned, no one ever hung around your home like this. It raised suspicions immediately. His boots crunched under loose dirt as the figure stopped their pacing and seemed to pause in thought.

“Cody?” Joel’s tone ran cold, edged with a sharp suspicion as his footsteps stopped a foot away. A balmy breeze sifted through his salt and pepper streaked tendrils.

The younger man looked around for a moment as the gears in Joel’s brain began to work on overdrive. He knew Cody, or so he thought. He believed Cody was a good man. They shared many meals, conversations—

“Have y’seen Beanie around by chance?” Cody asked casually as he ignored the obvious suspicion that Joel was facing.

Joel’s hackles raised on instinct as he watched Cody lean up against your fence with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Haven’t seen her since this mornin.’” Joel responded flatly. He knew right then and there that he had to play this cool for the time being. He didn’t need Cody knowing that he was onto him.

“Right. Well, thanks anyway, old man.” Cody muttered the last bit as he turned on his heel to walk away.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ around her place anyway? Y’know I could have you—”

“Reported? Yeah, sure you can. What would you even report me for, Miller? Cody scoffed. “All you had to do was not get yourself involved. Coulda just kept your nose out of things, but that’s not how you play your game, right?” He turned to face the older man once more just as a distinctive crash was heard from inside of your home.

Joel moved quickly, but Cody was quicker. Stronger, and trigger happy.

Cody was pouncing on the older man like a predator does to their prey. They tousled in the dusty dirt before Cody had him pinned down. His fists rained down on Joel’s face and the pained groans only seemed to spur Cody on further.

“Just had to go and get yourself involved with that fuckin’ cunt, huh?!”

Joel tried to fold his arms over his head to block out the swift punches to his face. Cody was ruthless, and Joel wasn’t as strong as he once was. Years ago he would have snapped Cody like a toothpick, but his age was beginning to catch up with him and this was the result.

Through gritted teeth Joel attempted to use his weight to throw Cody off of him, but it was no use. “I’ll fuckin’ kill every last one of you. I’ll rip you limb from fuckin’ limb and scatter your remains to the wolves—”He growled.

“Yeah? And how do you propose you’re gonna do that, Joel? Y’ain’t the one with the upper hand here, old man! You’re not takin’ this from me! Imagine how proud he’ll be when I not only bring in the moose, but your precious Beanie too.” He sneered conceitedly.

That’s all Joel needed to get a second wind of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He growled between his teeth as he used what little remaining strength he had left to force Cody off of him. He was reaching for his concealed pistol tucked in his belt loop under his shirt, when Cody kicked it from his grasp just as the two men inside of your home came rushing out.

“Jesus! fuck, Cody! What the hell are you doin?’ This wasn’t part of the plan!” The one man, a burly fellow with scarred tissue from third degree burns that covered nearly half of the left side of his face yelled urgently. Through the rushing of blood, and pain stabbing every inch of Joel’s face, he recognized this man too. He recognized the man next to him as well, smaller in stature, but stocky. Alex and Oliver.

“Fuck the plan! I’m not gonna waste this opportunity!” He sent the heel of his boot right into Joel’s gut causing him to double over into the crimson speckled dirt with a pain ridden grunt. “Well?!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Was she in there or not?!”

Alex and Oliver slowly looked over at one another before their shoulders simultaneously slumped inward. “No, but—”

“FUCK!” Cody snarled out of sheer frustration. He couldn’t let him down. He was told he couldn’t show up empty handed. It wasn’t an option.

Just as Joel’s fingers weakly grasped the handle of his pistol, that lay only a short arms distance away, Cody sent his boot right into his face. There was a sickening crunching sound of bone matter and cartilage being crushed as Joel’s body stilled. He was knocked out cold from the impact as blood leaked down his face and soaked into the dusty earth beneath him.

Neither men moved as Cody began to pace in contemplation. He paid no mind to the consequences he would face for his actions.

“Cody, we need to get the fuck outta town right fuckin’ now! If anyone sees—”

“And show up empty handed?! Fuck no.”

“Cody, she wasn’t there. We have no fuckin’ clue where she could be. C’mon, let’s just go back and regroup before someone shows up and finds Joel layin’ in a pool of his own blood.”

Cody ignored his counterparts as he continued to pace in a tight circle. He suddenly stopped when the lightbulb went off in his sick mind. He turned towards the two men, with a smirk that could only be described as sinister, “Angie.”

Ellie was curled up against your body with her cheek pressed gently into your shoulder. Her eyes flickered towards the windows in the family room. She watched the last bit of sunlight dip behind the horizon as a warm summer breeze blew through the beige curtains.

Joel should have been home by now.

She waited with alert ears for the sound of the front door to squeak open any minute now. It never came.

She shifted against you before your gazes met. “Beanie, he should have been home by now.”

You understood full heartedly that this movie night was important to Ellie. This was the first time that she and Joel were going to be spending some quality time together after everything they had gone through. This was a big deal.

“Kiddo, I’m sure he’s on his way now. Maybe he and Tommy just got caught up in something?” You wanted to reassure her and yourself that Joel was in fact on his way, and maybe he was just running late.

“Beanie..he—promised. What if he’s ditchin’ me? God, this was so stupid.” She went to bury her hands in her face, but you stopped her.

“Ellie, he’s not ditching you. He would never do that to you. He loves you. I’m sure he’s just running late is all.” Your own fears began to crawl up into your subconscious. What if something was wrong? What if something had happened?

Ellie wanted to believe you, she really did, but her own fears were making an appearance as well. It didn’t help the fact that her last conversation with Joel had been about his suspicions of Lucas..

“I’m gonna go check the stables, okay? You stay here. Lock the doors.” Ellie was up from her spot on the couch before you could even attempt to stop her.

“Ellie,” you started, voice wavering from the building nerves, “be careful, okay?”

The teen looked over at you with a small, yet confident grin, “Always am.” Her face twisted back to a serious one as she tucked her gun in her hoodie pocket. Joel surely would have scolded her if he had seen it.

You listened to the soft click of the door opening and closing. Your eyes drifted over to the unoccupied spot on the couch where one of the pillows was smashed down. Joel’s spot. .

Please. Please just be running late.

Please be okay, Joel.

Tommy found himself reminiscing on the good ole days as he nursed his glass of beer. Condensation dripped down the outside of the glass like tear drops on cheeks. The noisy chatter that encircled him was drowned out by his thoughts. Joel had always been the protector, the planner, the guardian. And as a young boy, Tommy viewed Joel as his hero. His own beacon of light through the darkness. And when Sarah died? It all changed. He was angry. At the world. At himself. And now, here in this peaceful community, he was getting to see those small glimpses of the old Joel that had laid dormant for so many years.

The Joel that he knew and loved so deeply.

He left his glass half empty as he said his goodbyes to some of the patrol guys, and the barkeep before he walking towards the door.

He was heading in the direction of the home he shared with Maria when he noticed a mass laying just outside your home. He thought that his brain was playing a cruel trick on him, and the approaching dusk might have also played a role in what he was seeing.

Gravel and dirt particles crunched beneath his heavy boots as he started his approach. As he drew nearer, he was able to make out the outline of a body. And, oh—god

Tommy remembers the moment he heard the shot ring through Joel’s house as if it had happened just yesterday. While he gathered supplies in the garage, his big brother was upstairs with the barrel of a revolver pressed against his temple.

How could Tommy not have known? How could he have missed the signs? The indications that Joel was thinking of taking a drastic measure to end his life. How could he have missed it?

“Joel!” A younger Tommy Miller yelled in fear. He threw down the tool box in a haste. Tools of all shapes and sizes clattered to the concrete in a harsh crescendo.

“Joel! Please, no. Please.” He chanted weakly under his breath as his feet carried him up the staircase. He stumbled on the top step as a wave of nausea made its presence known.

“Joel!” He yelled again, more desperately than the last. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brother so soon. He couldn’t. Not when just days ago they laid Sarah to rest. He couldn’t do this without Joel.

Sweat pooled at the back of his neck the closer he drew to the ajar opening of Sarah’s bedroom. He held onto the wall for support as his knees began to inevitably buckle from the dread crawling up his throat.

“Joel.” He croaked, “please. Please be alive in there.”

With a shaky breath, and through a mess of tears, Tommy pushed open Sarah’s bedroom door.

“I missed.” Joel murmured in disbelief. Disappointed that he couldn’t just do one thing fucking right. He couldn’t just follow through with his promise. His final wish to be with his daughter. His baby girl.

His palms trembled as his dull brown eyes flitted down to the revolver still in his grasp. He paid no mind to the blood slowly trickling from the right side of his head. Just a graze. Missed completely.

“Joel, what the fuck did you do that for?” Tommy wasn’t sure if he should laugh, cry, yell, all of the above? “You’re bleedin’, brother.”

“Oh.” Joel responded flatly. He brought his fingers up towards the right side of his head. He hardly flinched when his fingertips dragged through the flowing blood. He brought his hand back down to his eye level, fingers soaked in crimson. Then, the ringing started. Tommy’s voice started to sound fuzzy from the right side. “I flinched, Tommy. Thought I could do it. I was so sure—”

“Joel. Stop it, please.” Tommy nearly begged his brother as he cautiously moved in closer.

“I wanted to die, Tommy. I ain’t have anythin’ left to live for.” He refused to make eye contact with his brother purely out of shame.

“Killin’ yourself ain’t gonna bring Sarah back, Joel. Its fuckin’ selfish that you—” His words were bitter, jaded, sharpened with intent to harm. “I fuckin’ need you, Joel. I need my big brother to keep us alive. Is he still in there?” He pointed to Joel’s chest, symbolizing his heart.

When Joel finally brought his chin upwards to face his brother, the look on his sunken features shattered Tommy right down to the core. A broken man, father, brother. The same man that helped Tommy with his homework. The same man that taught him how to ride a bike. The same man that Tommy viewed as his hero. Where was he now?

“He died along with her.”

“Joel!” Tommy felt his voice get lodged in his throat at the sight of his older brother laying motionless in the crimson stained dirt. Panic began to swell and fester like an untreated wound the second his eyes landed on Joel’s handgun just an arms length away.

“No. No. Please— what happened, Joel!” He sank to his knees alongside him. “We were just—talkin’ about how much you were lookin’ forward to the movie night with Ellie and Beanie, remember? You said that you would see me in the mornin’, dammit!” He yelled, slamming one of his fists in the dirt before he took a shaky inhale. “Remember?”

He wouldn’t hurt himself, would he? The thought flashed through his mind briefly. He remembered finding Joel in a pool of his own blood after Sarah died. Tommy brushed away strands of Joel’s hair that were congealed together with blood. His brows furrowed intently when he found there was no bullet hole in Joel’s skull before he pressed his middle and pointer finger right against Joel’s pulse point.

Please. Please. Please still be in there, Joel.

When the faintest pulse was detected, Tommy let out a visible sound of relief. His big brother was alive, but Tommy knew he had to act fast.

“S’alright, big brother. You’re alright. Gonna get you fixed up.” He murmured to himself just as he heard approaching footsteps.

“Tommy?..” It was Ellie. Her voice wavered at the sight of her uncle and father on the ground. “J—Joel?!” Her eyes were wide with oncoming tears brimming when she locked in on Joel’s unmoving body.

“Tommy, wh—what the fuck happened?!” She blinked away her tears just as Tommy stood up from the ground. “Is he fuckin’ dead, Tommy?!”

“Ellie, I don’t know what happened. I was on my way home and—found him like this. He’s alive, kiddo. He’s alive, but we gotta get him to doc right away.” Tommy never felt like he was all that great at taking on the protective role, but his niece needed his comfort and reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

Ellie wasn’t listening to a word Tommy was saying. All she could focus on was Joel’s bloodied face and still body. Her emotions were consuming her entirely before she felt Tommy’s warm embrace wrapping her up. She let her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him for dear life.

“Ellie, I know you’re scared, kiddo. But I need ya to be strong for me, and for Joel. We gotta get him to doc right now. I need you to help me carry him okay?” He spoke in a soft tone, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s gonna be just fine. Your old man has always been a fighter.”

She squeezed her uncle tightly before pulling away from his embrace. She wiped what remained of her tears away on the sleeve of her shirt. “I’ll—I’ll take his legs?” She questioned rather than suggested. Seeing Joel like this, bloodied, weak, on the verge of—

“Ellie, he’ll be okay.” Tommy firmly reassured her again. He bent down over his brother and gently hoisted him up under his armpits while Ellie lifted him up by his legs.

Joel felt like dead weight, but his brother and daughter’s determination helped them power through the dull ache and strain in their muscles.

Tommy hated hospitals just as much, if not more than his brother did. The pungent stench of bleach, the droning hum from the overhead fluorescent lights. It was unappealing, cold, and overall a dreadful experience. But out of all of the late night visits to the ER after another bar fight, this by far was the worst of all to see his brother unconscious, dried blood crusted on his skin. Yet appearing peaceful while Doc checked his vitals and any signs of internal injuries

Ellie was seated next to her uncle nervously fidgeting with her fingers. Her leg was bouncing up and down frantically, until Tommy gently placed his palm over her knee in an attempt to soothe her.

“Well, he might have a bit of bruisin’ to his ribs, and his nose is definitely broken, but it’ll heal. There’s a chance he might be concussed, but I won’t know that for certain until he wakes up.” Doc said while tucking his clipboard under his armpit.

“I’ll stay here till he wakes up. Don’t want him wakin’ up alone.” Tommy said with a slight nod in Doc’s direction.

“I’m staying, too.” Ellie was defiant, of course. It was in her nature, and she couldn’t fathom not being by her dads side—

“Ellie, I’m gonna go and find someone to walk you home, okay? One of the guys on patrol..maybe a couple, given the circumstances.” He needed to make sure his niece got home in one piece, first and foremost.

Ellie clenched her fists, lips pressed tightly together as her eyes met Tommy’s in an intense stare. He could see residue of dried tears on her cheeks, and fresh ones beginning to brew like an oncoming storm. “Tommy,” she started, voice low, yet stern. “I’m not fuckin’ leaving him. I’m not. You can’t—”

“Ellie, I know you want to stay here with him too, but somethin’ about this ain’t right. You and I both know that there’s been some suspicious activity happenin’ as of late. Joel is goin’ to be okay, kiddo. He’s as stubborn as a mule.”

Her lower lip wobbled under the bright fluorescent light. She wanted to be angry at her uncle for telling her what she needed to do, but he was right, and there really wasn’t another second to waste. “Don’t you dare even think of leavin’ his side, Tommy. Don’t you dare.” She wiped her eyes along the back of her hand before making the final decision to get up from where she was sitting.

“I won’t, kiddo. I promise.” Tommy reassured her.

She walked over to the right side of the bed where Joel was lying and gently ran her fingers through a few stray curls that were stuck to his forehead. Dried sweat, dirt, and blood littered his hair and face. She leaned down, whispering something while she pressed her lips to his temple, squeezing her eyes shut.

Please don’t die.

Tommy left the room to give Ellie a bit of privacy. He flagged down a nurse in the hallway and quickly explained that he needed someone to ensure Ellie safely got home. It was decided that two patrol members would escort her home.

When Tommy returned, he was with Jesse and Liam waiting outside the open doorway.

“Ellie?”

Her head snapped in the direction of Tommy’s voice as she quickly wiped away the remnants of her tears.

“Jesse and Liam are gonna make sure you get home safe. Okay, kiddo?”

“Sure.” She muttered. Agreeing with her uncle didn’t mean that she had to act happy about it. Despite her feelings, she made a point to hug her uncle before she left the room.

Don’t leave him. She reminded him.

Sunlight warms his skin, birds chirping in the high treetops, a soft breeze rustles through his hair, kissing his temple. He knows this place, where he stands. It’s—

“baby girl?” He chokes out, stumbling forward in an uncoordinated motion.

She’s there. She’s alive. She’s got daisies in her curls.

“Dad?”

He nearly drops to his knees right at the spot where he and Tommy dug her grave all those years ago. He stops in his tracks as she turns around to face him. She’s wearing the same clothes that she died in, except there’s no blood. No bullet wounds. She’s untouched. Bright, glowing under the rays of sunlight.

“Are you really here? C-can I hold you? Are those daisies in your hair? Baby girl, I’m so sorry.” The words tumble past his lips like an avalanche of word vomit. His heart lurches in his chest, leaping from the confines of his ribcage.

Sarah’s feet carry her swiftly to her father before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly with her cheek pressed firmly against his chest. “I’m really here, dad.” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Joel’s arms wrap around her immediately, hugging her to his chest as tightly as he can, he’s trembling, tears blurring his vision, dripping down his cheeks and landing softly on her head of curls. He pulls away only to gently cradle her face in his strong, calloused, gentle hands.

She’s here. She’s alive. His baby girl.

“Dad..you—you remembered our favorite spot?” Her smile is beautiful, radiant, full of life.

“Of course I did. Our hikes, the fresh air. We—we loved it out here. I—I never forgot. Baby girl, I haven’t forgotten you. I—I think about you everyday. I’m so sorry. I miss you..I miss you so much.”

Her hands come to rest against the patches of his now graying beard. “Dad, you don’t have to apologize. I’m okay, I’m happy. I miss you too, dad. I miss you so much, but Ellie, she needs you. I’ll always wait for you, I promise. I’m always going to be right here.” She drops one of her hands from his face to then point to his heart. “I’m always with you.”

His face falls as his thumbs gently stroke her cheekbones. He’s not ready to leave, not yet. Not so soon. Too soon. He needs more time. Time. Time. Time.

Ellie.

“You—you would have loved her, baby girl. She reminds me so much of you. Her smile, her laugh. I see you in her. She’s—she’s my blessing. My second chance..my light in the darkness.” He sniffles, leaning down so he can press his lips to her forehead.

“And she needs you more than ever now, dad. She needs you. You have to forgive yourself, okay? Please promise me that one day, you will forgive yourself, dad. Promise me.”

“I promise you, baby girl. I promise. Daddy loves you, okay? He loves you so much.” There’s so much more he wants to say, so much more he wants to tell her, but there’s not enough time. He knows it.

“Dad, I love you so much. Tell Tommy I miss him too, okay? I’ll see you again one day, when the time is right.” She hugs him one last time as he buries his face into her mess of curls, holding in his sobs as more tears begin to fall.

“When the time is right, baby girl.” He murmurs.

—

“Well, brother. Guess it’s jus’ you and me now, huh?” Tommy wants to laugh, but he can’t. His emotions are all fucked. Everything is so fucked.

“That kid of yours really loves the hell outta ya. You’re like two feral cats.” He continues, forcing himself to stand and walk over to his brother's bedside. “And I know how much you love her.” He murmurs as he glances down at the nightstand where the contents of Joel’s pockets are laid out.

The two charm bracelets, the wood carving of a fawn for Ellie, and a folded piece of paper now tarnished with blood and debris.

“One of these for Beanie?” He asks while gently picking up one of the charm bracelets. “I’m so happy you listened to my advice and went to her coffee shop. I jus’ had this feelin’ that you two would hit it off.”

“You love her, huh? Like..really love her? I’m glad, Joel. I’m glad that you’re finally allowin’ yourself to love, and be loved. If anyone in this fucked up world deserves that, it’s you.”

He sets down the charm bracelet alongside the other before he picks up the wood carved fawn. One of the delicate ears had broken off during the fight, but it was fixable. “Ellie is going to love this when she sees it. You’ve always been..a giver, Joel.. Always thinkin’ of others before yourself. Puttin’ your heart out on the line. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m so grateful that you met Ellie when you did. You saved her, but she saved you just as much. Turned that cold heart of yours into somethin’ good again.”

He placed the fawn down gently before he eyed the folded piece of paper. “Y’still writin’ those letters? Have they been helpin?’ Y’know, I thought about writin’ a couple myself.”

Something in his gut tells him that this letter..is meant for him.

He swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he reached for the piece of paper and picked it up with trembling fingers. He sees his name written on the outside, and his vision goes blurry with tears. “You..were gonna give this to me tomorrow when we said we were gonna meet at the Tipsy Bison?”

He slowly sinks down along the side of the bed, unfolds the letter and begins to read it silently.

Tommy, this is the third letter I have written thus far, so hopefully this comes across the way I have intended it to. Ever since we were just two little boys scraping our knees up on the playground, telling each other secrets, and holding each other tight when mom and dad would argue into the odd hours of the night, I always found myself being protective over you. I ain’t even sure if it had anything to do with age, and more to do with the fact that it’s been instilled in me since birth that I'm a natural protector. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

I’ve never told anyone this, but the day you told me that you wanted to join the army, and make a difference in the world, I wept. I soaked my pillow with my tears that very same evening cus’ I realized I couldn’t protect you anymore. You were eighteen, and ready to take on the world. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to go, and I know that war changed you. I know what it did to you, and you were no longer the little boy hiding under the covers from the thunder and lightning. You were molded into a man right before my eyes, but you’ve always been my little brother, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.

I know you blame yourself for the night that we lost Sarah. I still remember the grief in your eyes. You tried so hard. So fuckin’ hard, and I’m so sorry for what I became after she died.

A stray teardrop fell along the thin paper as the word ‘died’ began to blur from the sudden moisture.

You literally had to pry her cold body from my arms because I refused to let go. Even when we dug her a shallow grave near the woods she loved to hike in, you had to stop me from crawling into that goddamn hole with her.

24 hours. 1 day since the outbreak. 1 day without his baby girl

“She’ll be happy here, Joel. She gets to rest in her favorite place.” Tommy murmured as he set the shovels down next to the grass covered earth that would soon be dug up to create a shallow grave for Sarah to finally be laid to rest. The younger Miller brother hid his grieving behind a stoic face. He didn’t want Joel to see how much pain he was in. He wanted to be the strong one for once in his life, especially since he blamed himself for Sarah's death. If only he had been there sooner. If only he had acted quicker, maybe she would still be alive.

Joel was unmoving as he held his deceased daughter, who had long since grown cold and stiff in his arms. She was wrapped in a sheet, as Joel couldn’t bear to see her unmoving eyes any longer. He had shed his last tears, as he watched his brother begin to dig a shallow grave. As the minutes ticked by, Joel was realizing that after Sarah was to be buried, he no longer would be a father, and the thought made him feel queasy. What did he have to live for if he was no longer a parent? What was the point?

“Tommy..” Joel croaked, “I–can’t let her go.” He choked up as the weight of the world was beginning to press down on his shoulders. He held Sarah close to his heart where his chin came to rest upon her covered head. “Tommy, we–”

“Joel, we have to let her go. Brother, please. She’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to bring her back. I’m sorry.” He was. If he could go back in time and take Sarah’s place, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Joel’s eyes began to glaze over with fresh tears as he began to frantically whisper to Sarah as if she could hear him from the other side. “S’okay baby girl. You’re okay. Daddy has you, and he’ll see you soon. I promise. I’m coming for you, baby girl.” He pressed a firm, promising kiss to her covered head before he slowly lowered himself onto his knees along the edge of the hole in the dirt. He could feel stomach acid rise up his throat at the thought of the earth, and mother nature consuming his baby girl. He wanted to go with her.

Tommy watched with a heavy heart as he watched his older brother gently place his baby girl into the shallow grave. His own tears began to silently fall as images of a newborn Sarah flashed in his mind. He remembered the pure joy and love that radiated from Joel the moment he got to hold his daughter for the first time. No parent should ever have to bury their child.

As Tommy willed himself to begin shoveling the dirt he dug up into the grave, he watched in horror as his grief-stricken brother nearly had crawled into the hole. He dropped the shovel in a haste as he grabbed ahold of the underside of Joel’s shoulders and yanked him back.

The soul-shaking, torturous, anguished sound that cascaded from Joel’s mouth, was one that chilled Tommy’s blood. It could only be described as a grieving parent refusing to let their only child go.

Tommy still has nightmares of it.

I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t just fuckin’ pull myself together for both of us. I know how scared you were, Tommy. I was scared too. I was terrified. I was supposed to be the big brother then. The one who had all the answers. Who could come up with a plan at the drop of a hat to keep his little brother alive. Instead, you had to fill that position. You stepped into that role because I gave you no other choice. If you didn’t force me to leave that spot where she died, I would have rotted there with her. I never thought for a moment about the pain that you were feeling. I lost a daughter that night, but you lost a niece, and a brother all in one night.

48 hours. 2 days since the outbreak. 2 days without his baby girl.

It was Tommy’s idea for him and Joel to return home to gather up as much food and supplies they could get their hands on. Joel was apprehensive, but Tommy reassured him that they wouldn’t have to stay long. So, Joel reluctantly agreed. Their neighborhood was dead silent with no signs of life to be found. The bombs that the government had dropped only impacted the major cities, and left the small neighborhoods untouched from their destruction. It would have just been another day if it weren’t for the familiar bodies scattered in the street. Both Tommy and Joel avoided looking at the deceased body of Nana Adler as they crossed their front yard.

“I’m gonna grab what I can from the garage, and then I'll meet you inside? Grab a couple of backpacks and stuff it with clothes, and anything else you think we might need. Okay, Joel?”

The older Miller brother could only meekly nod as a non-verbal response. He was too focused on remembering that he had stashed a revolver in his office drawer for safe keeping. At least it would be quick.

Tommy was unaware, clueless to Joel’s plan to end his life. He knew his brother was mourning, but he never had thought about the drastic measures he would take to be reunited with Sarah.

As Joel ascended up the stairs, memories of his life before the outbreak leaked into his mind. A five year old Sarah running down the stairs to avoid bath time after playing outside all day. Sticky with sugary sweet syrup from a popsicle, and dirt and twigs stuck in her head of curls. Joel patiently demanded that she needed a bath. Well, Sarah had other plans of course and Joel would have to catch her first.

He could hear her gleeful giggles now; almost sweet music.

Soon, baby girl. I promise.

His footsteps were soft, and undetected as he padded down the hall to his office area. His hand grasped the handle as he slowly turned it and pushed the door open with ease. Everything was right as he left it. Blueprints for a new project he and Tommy were working on. A school paper from Sarah that she had left for him to proof read. A stale cup of coffee. Tommy’s note tacked to the corkboard that Joel kept from when they were kids. A life preserved in time. He reached for the note as he gingerly plucked it from where it was pinned. He folded it carefully before slipping it into his pocket. He wanted to have a piece of his brother with him, always.

Joel didn’t feel nervous as he opened the file cabinet drawer that contained his concealed revolver. He greeted it like an old friend as he grasped it firmly in his palm. The coolness of the metal diffused his clammy skin. He could do it here, he thought silently. No, he wanted to be closer to Sarah. To be comforted by her familiarity. So, he left his office and went straight to her room.

As he brought the barrel of the gun to his temple, he felt calm. He felt ready. More ready than he had ever felt in his entire life. He felt sorry for leaving Tommy to fend for himself, but he knew that his brother would survive, and he’d be better off without him anyway.

As his finger hovered over the trigger, he observed Sarah's untouched room. From the crumpled sheets along her bed where he had tucked her in for the very last time, her discarded backpack, her posters, trophies from soccer, and all of her photographs. Photos of her and Joel. Her and Tommy. She was the happiest kid ever, and that’s how Joel wanted to remember her.

As his finger gradually applied pressure to the trigger, he flinched. The bullet missed, and grazed the right side of his temple. His right ear was profusely ringing as he dropped to the carpet like a bag of bricks. He could faintly hear Tommy’s shouts and footsteps racing up the stairs as blood slowly trickled down his face.

Tommy, I was selfish. I was selfish for wanting to take my life and leave you to fend for yourself. My baby brother. The same brother I swore to protect till my last dying breath. I was a coward, Tommy. A weak, selfish, pathetic coward. I wanted to take the easy way out. The cheap way. I just hope you still don’t hate me for it. I hope you don’t hate me for putting you through the trauma and pain of almost losing me too. Sometimes I wonder if my attempted suicide triggered your thirst for blood. As if I am the direct cause for the carnage you partook in when we joined Tess and her raider group. Sometimes I wonder if all those times that we murdered people, that you pictured me on the other end of the gun. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the brave big brother that you always believed me to be. I’m sorry that even over twenty years later, I’m not me. I’m not the Joel that you looked up to. I’m not sure if I'll ever be that version of myself again, but I am ever-so grateful that I am still your brother. Your flesh and blood.

I hope that one day you’ll be proud to be my brother again. Till then, I'll always have your back.

-Your big brother, Joel. The one that held you when things went bump in the night.

Tommy isn’t even aware of how much time has passed while he reads Joel’s words over till they're practically burned into his brain. He doesn’t feel the shifting of the coarse sheets, or see Joel’s fingers twitch at his side.

“Tommy..” Joel croaks, voice hoarse and barely audible.

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secretsandwriting · 1 year

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The Little Moments [Swiss]

The little moments in which the ghouls realize that the feeling in their chest when they see you isn't just instincts anymore, it's love and their drowning in it.

A sequel of sorts to mate. Can be read alone.

[Dew] [Mountain] [Aether] [Rain] [Poly]

Swiss was trying to accept the Mate bond it wasn’t nearly as fast as the other ghouls but it was happening. Everyone was just glad they didn’t have to worry about him hurting himself more. The other ghouls would sit down and talk with Swiss, while no one knew why he tried so hard to break it they did know that coming out of instincts to a mate wasn’t easy and it was something they all had to come to terms with.

So here he was following Dew’s advice and bringing you your favorite work appropriate drink to see your reaction because Dew said the little things like bringing a drink or snack, or little kisses on the forehead were apparently things that would cause a reaction that would make his stomach go all fluttery as Dew put it.

Now Swiss wasn’t a fool, he knew those things affected people and all that but he wasn’t sure how much seeing it would give him that big of a reaction, sure it might make him feel nice but that was about it.

Swiss heard talking from your office so he knocked louder before opening the door and stepping in. You paused the video but before you could say anything you were met with a cup in front of your face.

“For you.” Swiss watched as you gently took the cup from him and looked into, attempting to figure out what it was before you took a sip, he could see the moment you figured out what it was. The way your eyes widened just a little bit, and the spark of excitement that brightened your face, the way the corners of your lips turned up just enough to be able to notice it, and the way your shoulders seemed to loosen up a bit.

When you did take a sip, the spark softened into a gentle glow, the way your smile took over filling your presence with something so beautifully relaxed Swiss felt himself relaxing with you.

“Thank you! It’s exactly how I like it!” The smile sent his way made him realize Dew was wrong, his stomach wasn’t going all fluttery. It felt like he had just been punched in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

When Swiss made it to practice ten minutes later, still reeling from the feeling. Dew just smirked at him from his spot on the floor. Maybe Dew knew what he was talking about, just a little.

—---------

Swiss wanted to rip his head off his shoulders. A migraine pounded against his skull making it so the slightest of sounds made his ears ring and the faintest lights sent him reeling despite knowing it wouldn’t work, he had taken some migraine meds. After all, human medication wouldn’t help his elements being out of balance.

The door to the room opened and while it was darker in the hallway than normal and you had opened the door quieter than normal, it still felt like you had added more knives to the collection already in his head. While he wanted nothing more than to scream at you to leave so he could ride this out by himself, this was your room too, you were making a conscious effort to be as quiet as possible, and it was late. You had been working all day so you were probably ready for bed. It didn’t make the thought of you leaving any less nice though.

He felt the bed dip as you got into your spot in the nest and settled in until all he could hear from your side was your breathing. Little spikes of pain shot into his skull with every single breath and yet he found himself craving your affection. He desperately wanted to curl up into your arms and breath in your scent, for you to hold him and make the pain go away.

Deciding that he wasn’t going to be feeling any better any time soon so he might as well get the comfort he’s craving, he slowly moved over to where you were laying on your side and tucked himself into your chest. Both of your hands found their way into his hair and Swiss melted at the little bit of sweet relief that came with you rubbing his scalp. Your gentle message did more to help his migraine than anything else had ever done, he would have laughed if it weren’t for the rest of the pain. Who would have thought he would be close to crying over a head massage.

“Please don’t stop.” If it hadn’t been silent in the room you would have missed it. He relaxed again when you started up again, feeling a little bad because you were probably tired and yet he was asking for more but you hadn’t said anything and just continued on his request. It was the first time Swiss had ever been able to sleep with one of his imbalance headaches.

When he woke up in the morning with your hands still in his hair, he had never felt more grateful. He had no idea how late you had been awake and to wake up with your hands still against his head, filled his stomach with something stronger than butterflies. He was really starting to understand why the other ghouls liked having mates.

Squirrels, he decided. You made him feel like he had squirrels going crazy in his stomach.

—---------

Swiss sighed as he opened his guitar case, he didn’t want to be a practice today. None of the ghouls did. It was one of those dreary days that messed with all the elements somehow, making them all feel out of whack.

Glancing down before picking up the instrument he noticed a little orange piece of paper stuck to it. Flipping it over he was met with your handwriting.

Have a good practice, I have some snacks in my office for you when you're done!

The little hearts in the corner and the promise of food made practice sound a little less bad. He glanced up to see all of the other ghouls holding notes of their own with their own looks of affection.

“It’s a conspiracy.” Dew muttered, nothing but amusement behind his words. Everyone agreed and they all tucked their notes somewhere for safekeeping.

When he got to your office it was empty but on your desk, was one of his favorite drink and snack with another orange note.

Sorry I missed you! Sister Imperator called a sudden meeting and I have no idea how long it will be. Enjoy your snack I’ll see you at dinner!

Swiss tried to ignore the disappointment that settled in his stomach. He had looked forward to seeing you at least for a minute. He ate his snack on the couch, pulling the blanket off the back to curl up under when the chill of the room got to be too much.

Swiss blinked awake, not sure when he had fallen asleep or what had woken him up. The sound of keyboard keys had him looking up to see you working at the computer, he stayed where he was, head resting against the back of the couch as he watched you work. The headphones you normally didn’t use covering your ears, the faint sound of music reaching Swiss’s ears. You glanced over at him and he melted into the couch at the smile you sent him as you pulled the headphones off one of your ears as you looked back at your screen.

“Enjoy your nap?” He nodded, pulling the blanket closer around. “Dinner is in about 15 minutes so let me finish this one thing and we can go.” Swiss nodded again, a soft purr building in his chest as he realized he would gladly wait for you. It didn’t matter what for or how long, he would wait.

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nakunakunomi · 8 months

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this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Suguru Geto x GN reader Prompt: "How many people have you killed? How many?" Warnings: canon-typical angst and violence, Hidden inventory/premature death spoilers. [a/n]: I have fallen for Geto. I have... No excuses at all. It's the most toxic out of all my fictional crushes, but I have decided to lean into it And apparently that's by writing angst?

You blamed yourself. What else was there to do? There had been so many missions, so many heartaches, wounds and losses, but Satoru had pushed through, establishing himself more and more as the strongest, as the one everyone could look up to and count on. You had been so extremely busy, trying to train your skills, trying to keep up with the progress your classmates were making, that you completely lost sight of what really mattered.

How they were doing academically, how they were doing as sorcerers didn’t matter at all when you barely knew how they were doing mentally, emotionally. You hadn’t sat together to catch up in so long, you hadn’t properly checked in in months. You saw the way Suguru looked more and more exhausted every time you exchanged words with him, but it didn’t cross your mind that maybe he was more than tired. You were too focused on your own exhaustion, too caught up in your own mind to see he was emotionally checking out and wasting away.

And then the incident happened, Geto fully breaking with Jujutsu high and by extension you and your group of friends, and you felt lost. But not as lost as when you saw him for the last time.

You weren’t prepared for the confrontation just yet. You weren’t prepared to be the first one to find him. You weren’t prepared for how relaxed he looked. He looked relieved, almost happy, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. You felt all kinds of emotions well up in you at his simple “yo” and you weren’t sure if you should cry, fight, yell, hit him…nothing seemed appropriate, so you just returned the greeting.

The conversation that followed was fruitless. You wanted him to show regret, so you could go back, maybe fix this. But no. There was no remorse, no hesitation. He had made up his mind, and you were aware of how useless it was to try and change that.

“How many people have you killed?” Your voice was an unnatural pitch, betraying just how much you were trying to keep it together. He was silent and just looked at you.

“How many?”

You didn’t even need the answer. You had read the reports. You were grasping at straws, just trying to get some kind of reaction, but instead he just smiled, and took a step back. The conversation was over.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

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wenella · 9 months

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Zhu Yilong: Be Water 石子的回响

EN translation of Zhu Yilong's WSJ Men's Style Sept 2023 Issue Feature Interview

Translated by wenella

It's Bustling Again

“Unbelievable.” Zhu Yilong said slowly, on the other end of the phone.

The box office of Lost in the Stars has far exceeded everyone's expectations. On the eve of the movie’s release, the predicted box office was merely RMB 1 billion. Producer Chen Sicheng was relatively optimistic and believed that the film would be on par with its predecessors Sheep without a Shepherd 1 & 2, which grossed RMB1.3 billion and 1.1 billion respectively. As of Jul 31, however, the film has grossed more than RMB3.5 billion, with nearly 85 million moviegoers. This abstract figure is perhaps not as concrete as Zhu Yilong’s feelings: “Our cinemas are bustling again.”

From the end of June to the beginning of July, Zhu Yilong did roadshows for Lost in the Stars in 7 cities across 10 days. This is the largest number of roadshows he has ever done for a film. Before he started the roadshow tour, he felt rather apprehensive as he didn’t know what kind of situations he would face and what type of questions he would get. Zhu Yilong felt less worried after he learnt that the organizers picked Wuhan as the first roadshow stop for the film. Wuhan is his hometown and the only city that held a roadshow for his movie "Lighting up the Stars" when it was released last year. The movie grossed RMB1.7 billion and earned Zhu Yilong one of the most prestigious awards of his career - the Golden Rooster Award for Best Lead Actor.

His hometown audiences were particularly supportive during the two roadshows, but Zhu Yilong could feel the subtle difference in their reactions. Lighting up the Stars is a heart-warming story and the overall narrative is light-hearted. However, Lost in the Stars is highly dramatic and the audience’s reactions were more complex. They were critical of the character He Fei.

The entire cast and crew came to a consensus at a very early stage during the production: Lost in the Stars is a commercial genre movie. When Zhu Yilong first received the script, he was hesitant to accept the role for the very exact same reason as his audiences. However, He Fei is a challenging, complex, multi-faceted, and extreme role; it is rare to encounter such a role and Zhu Yilong was worried that it might be difficult to land a similar role in future.

Zhu Yilong watched an initial cut of Lost in the Stars before he joined the set of Only the River Flows. "The film managed to convey what the original script and the actors hoped to express.” He watched the completed movie for the first time at a Shenyang roadshow six months later. There were minimal changes and the main differences were the special effects. This time, he was so drawn into the film that he realised he had crumpled the ticket in his hand after the screening ended.

He was also deeply moved by the audiences. The audiences could feel all the key character designs that he made on the set and reacted as anticipated. This is the magic of film that transcends time and space, that is shared between an actor on the set and audiences in the cinema. Zhu Yilong felt happy and immensely satisfied.

The artistic and moral questions evoked by Lost in the Star aren’t part of the actor’s responsibility. What Zhu Yilong had to ensure was that audiences were intrigued by He Fei, gripped by his emotions, and drawn into the mystery quickly. In his opinion, He Fei is not only a highly dramatic character, but also a realistic one too. This was his main entry point when he first started to create his character; the tragic ending of He Fei has to serve as a realistic warning.

“He is an actor who maintains an appropriate distance from audiences; he doesn’t seem so ‘definte’ and is somewhat ‘vague’.” Producer Chen Sicheng explained why he chose Zhu Yilong to play He Fei. Zhu Yilong took a step back to think about this comment. He said that Chen is describing the ideal state of an actor, and this is a trait that he admired in veteran actors. He hasn't thought much about how close he is to achieving this state, but he's pretty convinced that “this is the right direction.”

Only the River Flows

On May 20, the world premiere of Only the River Flows took place in Cannes. At the end of the 101-minute screening, the 1,000-person Claude Debussy theatre was filled with applause.

“Movie is a universal language,” Zhu Yilong has a deeper understanding of this saying now. Despite the language barrier and cultural differences between the East and the West, human nature is universal. The story of a police in a small town in southern China during the 1990s captivated Western audiences.

“It's hard for me to watch this movie as a regular audience now.” Zhu Yilong first received the script more than three years ago. Back then, the character Ma Zhe seemed like a profound character and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Subsequently, the production team changed and the script was revised. When he received the revised script, he decided to take on the role.

Zhu Yilong’s first priority was to establish the character. The film is an adaptation of Chinese writer Yu Hua's pioneering novella titled Mistakes by the River. During his preparation, Zhu Yilong saw an old photo of Yu Hua taken by photographer Xiao Quan. In the photo, Yu Hua, who had a moustache and thick black hair, was staring at the camera. The photo was taken in 1993, right at the time when the story took place. The character Ma Zhe immediately materialized in Zhu Yilong’s head.

His next urgent priority was to become Ma Zhe. For one and a half months, Zhu Yilong followed the local police in Nanfeng, Jiangxi province, every day, to experience life, simulate crime scenes, and question witnesses. He also gained weight consciously. By the time he appeared on camera, “Zhu Yilong” was replaced by a middle-aged man called “Ma Zhe”, who has a slightly chubby frame and somber eyes. Like Mo Sanmei and He Fei, Ma Zhe is another character that contrasts greatly with himself. People often asked Zhu Yilong, it must be satisfying to play such contrasting roles, right? Zhu Yilong gave the question some serious thought, but admitted that it was difficult for him to find such performances enjoyable or satisfying.

The director of Lost in the Stars Cui Rui recalled a moment after an intense He Fei scene. The first thing Zhu Yilong did when he returned to the monitor was to grab his Thermos bottle and drink water. Those intense emotions that he exhibited did not seem to belong to him, Zhu Yilong said, "I have these reactions and emotions only because I’m in that specific environment. Once I’m away from the set, I often find it difficult to believe that I did those stuff.”

Many of his co-workers have talked about Zhu Yilong's focus and dedication on set. Once the camera rolls, he would hand himself to his character entirely. Off-camera, he would spend most of his time preparing for the next scene. “I don't want to leave any regrets,” Zhu Yilong said. Movie is an art of regret – this is a phrase that Zhu Yilong often heard when he was in film school. He understands the inevitability of regret in acting, but believes in reducing it. Whenever he is on the set, he would try his best to give his best performance and ideas; he would express them regardless of whether they were right or wrong. “I will regret it if I merely think about it and not do anything about it.”

Next, trust was also needed during the filming of Only the River Flows. In order to recreate the 1990s mood, the movie was shot on 16mm film, with no HD playback on set. The images on the monitor resembled television in the 80s, with grainy white spots and indiscernible facial details. Zhu Yilong chose to trust himself, the film director Wei Shujun and cinematographer Cheng Ma.

Previously, he had watched Director Wei Shujun's Ripples of Life and Striding into the Wind and found him free-spirited and rather goofy. After working together this time, he realized that Director Wei was also highly receptive to people's opinions. “The cameraman, lighting crew, actors, and director would always have a discussion before shooting.” It was a young creative team and everyone belonged to the same age group. There was no absolute authority on creation or ideas. If this was a problem with a scene, they were not afraid of trying all over again in a different way.

Zhu Yilong was attracted to Only the River Flows because it was filmed chronologically. “It is rare for an actor to have the opportunity to embark on a journey with a character.” Does filming chronologically help the actor get into character more easily? Zhu Yilong didn’t seem to have a definitive answer. Sometimes, he would also suspect if the magical moment of “getting into character” really existed. He wasn’t sure if this was because he didn’t pay enough attention to the process or if that moment simply didn’t exist. In his own experience, whenever he tried to seek that moment consciously, he would find himself already connected with his character.

This process is not controlled by one's subjective consciousness. Zhu Yilong doesn't want to be in control either. Very often, he follows the emotions of his character. This was the case for the head shaving scene in Lost in the Stars and Ma Zhe’s emotional scenes in the second half of Only the River Flows. “My reactions are subconscious and not predetermined.” Once Zhu Yilong is on the set, when he enters the circumstances and the narrative starts to flow, the emotions will come naturally.

Audiences Will Never Disappear

Like the river and its meanders, Zhu Yilong is also constantly flowing and changing.

He played similar characters in dozens of digital films when he first started out, fulfilling his responsibility as an actor dutifully. Then his opportunity came when a web drama pushed him ahead of his peers in the market. Next, he kept playing different roles on the big screen and sought breakthroughs to keep refreshing the public’s perception of him. Now, it's time for everyone to get to know filmmaker Zhu Yilong.

The idea of making a movie germinated when he was a 20-year old college student at Beijing Film Academy. During his four years in college, he took audio-visual language classes, attended lectures on films, and watched film masterpieces in order to nourish this little idea he had. But he needed a suitable opportunity and courage in order to turn this idea into action. The turning point came after his first trip to Cannes in 2019. He finally saw those faces that he had only seen on the screen at the annual Cannes Film Festival - a gathering of international filmmakers. Zhu Yilong felt a bit apprehensive, as he was invited by a brand and had no work that was competing in the festival. After he returned to Beijing, he told his team, “We need to make a movie.”

Four years later, he returned to Cannes with Only the River Flows. It was a particularly difficult four-year period that saw a turbulent environment; cinemas shut down and film releases were postponed indefinitely. The Chinese film industry was in a dire state. Yet Zhu Yilong progressed steadily. He made eight films and played the lead actor in four of them.

Was he ever worried about a film’s theatrical release? He shook his head. “I chose to make films because I like it. I’m attracted to a role and I want to create this character. Besides, I've always believed that the audiences in cinemas will never disappear.” Unlike watching films on your phones or through a projector, Zhu Yilong believes that film-going is a kind of lifestyle. You need to buy a ticket in advance, set time aside, and join a group of people to quietly enjoy a two-hour story in the dark. It is an extremely impressive and emotional experience. Using himself as an example, Zhu Yilong said that he still remembers his schooling days when he watched films at the Film Archive.

At the same time, Zhu Yilong also acknowledged that the viewing habits of audiences have changed in this era of short videos. But he would rather deem this a positive change. From silent to sound, from black-and-white to color, films have always evolved with the times. Zhu Yilong thinks that we are at another turning point right now. “We need to accept this change and explore new performance styles, audio-visual language, and narrative techniques to cope with these changes.”

Zhu Yilong watched Hirokazu Koreeda’s “Monster” at Cannes. In the Lumière Hall, more than 2,000 people filled the upper and lower floors. When the 125-minute screening ended, there was unceasing applause that “lasted for about 10 to 15 minutes.” This 15 minutes belonged entirely to the entire cast and crew of Monster and Zhu Yilong felt heartened by it too. “In addition to realist films, we should also introduce more young, pioneering, and imaginative films to international audiences in future.” This is Zhu Yilong's new reflection after his trip to Cannes this year.

In the spring of 2023, Zhu Yilong learned that Only the River Flows was selected for the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival. He said rather emotionally, “I guess I’ve achieved a small goal of mine.”

So what’s the next goal?

“Can’t reveal it yet. I will just follow the flow of the river and work hard.”

**THE END**

A lengthy but lovely interview with Zhu Yilong that focuses on Lost in the Stars & Only the River Flows. Happy reading! If you'd like to retranslate this, pls DM me for permission + credit.

#朱一龍 #朱一龙 #zhuyilong #zhu yilong #lost in the stars #cannes2023 #消失的她 #only the river flows #wenella #河边的错误

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sailtomarina · 1 year

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My friends think we’re dating

For the past few months, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had traipsed all over muggle London taking in its food scene from familiar Parisian cuisine to the pungent spices of takeout Indian, and even to American pizza that Draco simultaneously loved and hated for its greasiness. Theirs was the tentative start of a friendship between former enemies now coworkers. When the Malfoy heir expressed curiosity at her lunch one day, a plate of Pad Kee Mao, she discovered his appallingly limited palate, one accustomed to the whimsy of house elves and professional chefs. He laughed in disbelief at the idea of street food, and at first didn’t believe her that entire night markets existed for the pleasure of eating. So Hermione took it upon herself to introduce him a couple of times a week to something new—for his own personal growth, of course. The change in her schedule didn’t go unnoticed. “My friends think we’re dating.” Draco’s hand froze momentarily before resuming its movement towards the box of doughnuts between them. He carefully plucked a powdery white one from the side and considered the dark red ooze at its tip before taking a small bite of the confection. How he could gracefully eat a powdered jelly doughnut without a single spot or smear afterward, Hermione could not for the life of her figure out. “Is that a problem?” Cool grey eyes probed into hers after he finished his last, impeccable bite. “Isn’t it for you? Putting aside the fact that we’re just friends and you don’t even like me like that.” Her words trailed off near the end, and she picked up her coffee mug to nervously sip at the now lukewarm beverage. She grimaced at the bitterness of the over-extracted beans. Draco smirked at her reaction and placed a few packets of creamer in front of her. “This is why I suggested we get our coffee elsewhere, Granger. Everyone knows the coffee at doughnut shops is absolute shite.” He tilted his head as he watched her tear open and pour a couple into her mug before continuing. “And what if I do like you like that?” Thunk. Creamy brown liquid sloshed over the rim and she cursed as she fluttered around for napkins to clean up the spill. “Don’t tease me like that, Malfoy!” “I promise you, I’ve never been more serious. I do. Like you like that.” With a wordless wave of his hand, the mess on the table vanished. He then reached across and threaded his fingers with hers. Hermione stared at their hands before taking a deep breath to somehow steady the pulse threatening to beat right out of her chest. A chuckle coupled with his thumb rubbing a warm trail across her knuckles left her breathless in anticipation. He let go of her and before she could protest, he picked up her sad excuse of a coffee and drained it all. “I thought these meet-ups were purely educational? Just a step towards your muggle knowledge? Also, why did you drink my coffee?” She waved her hands first at the pastel pink box and coffee mug, voice far more shrill than she’d like to admit. “Yes, I do appreciate these forays into the muggle food scene, but there is and has always been an ulterior motive, Hermione.” The switch to her given name had her gaping in the most adorable manner, and he couldn’t resist his follow-up question, one he’d been waiting to ask but now felt appropriate given her friends’ meddling. “Would you date me? And hopefully not long after, allow me to court you?” “I—I suppose that would be—yes, I’d like to—” without even waiting for her to finish, he swept her up with him as he stood, shrunk the rest of the doughnuts in their box to place in his pocket, and made for the exit. “Excellent. There’s a lovely little coffee shop we can go to wash out this swill.” His hand grasped hers tightly, but his pace measured a gait to match her smaller one. “What, so now you’re educating me on muggle coffee?” She had recovered her composure enough to tease him with a light nudge to his elbow, and he cast an appreciate grin down at her before wrapping an arm tightly around her at the apparition point. “Yes, and on so much more.” ---

Note: I absolutely suck at brevity. I know Drabbles are supposed to be short, but I find it nearly impossible to keep my scenes sub-500, much less 100. Practice makes perfect?

#dramione prompt #draco malfoy x hermione granger #dramione #harry potter fanfiction

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pisupsala · 1 year

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Of All The Stars in The Sky | 5 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings | Mature content | 18+ only [WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut

Words | 4.3k

Library

Chapter 5 - Heaven, Hell, Paradise

“You can’t speak.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, Bradley has already opened his mouth to no doubt crack another joke. Without even a second thought, you press your fingers against his lips. His eyes widen in surprise, but he mercifully doesn’t make a sound.

“I mean it.” You implore him, voice, low, not being able to stop the slight trill panic creeping into your words. Quickly checking your surroundings to make sure no one is around in the grassy alleyway between houses, you look back at Rooster sternly. He blinks slowly, indicating he understands, lightly exhaling as he does. His breath brushes past your fingertips, and you pull back your hand like you’ve been burned. You bury your hand in the pocket of your green coat as if to hide your embarrassment at your reaction, however, your gaze doesn’t waver.

Your digits brush against the cool metal of the bracelet you took off Rooster. Well, he threw it at you. But you forgot you still had it, safely tucked in your coat pocket. Idly, you run the chain through your fingers. The smooth surface feels soothing as it glides over your skin.

Almost defiantly, Bradley looks back at you. Your neck is slightly craned as you look up at him tightly, the early morning sun reflecting from your eyes. It’s cute how your felt cloche hat matches your coat, the dainty yet simple bunch of silk lily of the valley tucked in the band, neatly tied with a little bow on the side.

“Wouldn’t it be rude if I just stare mutely at everyone?” He bends toward you, whispering. “I can learn a few words quickly, I’m told I have talented tong-”

This time, your whole palm wraps around his lower face with surprising force, almost pushing him a step back. Bradley has to stop himself from smiling. He can smell a trace of the floral perfume you dabbed on your wrist. It’s cute how your eyes flutter again like you desperately want to be angry, roll your eyes to the high heavens, the corner of your mouth pulled tight and eyes ablaze.

“Would you rather be rude or dead?” You hiss with such venom, the little spark of mirth in Rooster’s eyes finally dims. Still. It’s cute, he thinks, how fearlessly you confront him, breathing fire. And right now, it’s the only thing distracting Bradley from the abject terror he’s feeling.

He has no boundaries, you seethe to yourself. Like he isn’t fully aware he’s standing in the street, in Nazi-occupied Europe, without papers. And it’s still all a joke to him. Like it hasn’t sunk in that he might die, and he might get you killed too.

Rooster’s dark gray hat is sitting on his head tilted to the side, making him look just that little bit rogue-ish with the wounds on his face. The blue cable knitted sweater he’s wearing underneath his heavy black coat is strangely homely looking in contrast, the crisp white collar of his button-up shirt peeking out of his collar. Being as tall as he is, there was not that much choice in what Rooster could wear that was weather appropriate.

You try not to think about how tightly the cotton of the button-up shirt strained over his shoulders and arms, or how perfectly casual and confident he looks with his hand in his pockets, coat unbuttoned. Because you’re annoyed with him. And you can’t be angry when your brain is focussing on all these little unnecessary details about him.

Still frowning at Rooster, you slowly peel your hand back from his face, daring him to speak again. The hair of his mustache is tickling against your palm. His skin is warm against yours. No, you are still annoyed. He stays silent now, his face drawn, as you tuck your hand back into your pocket.

Shortly, jerking your head to the side, you signal Rooster to start walking. Gripping your backpack tightly, it feels heavier with every step. It’s like the guns that you have wrapped in your lumpy knitted socks are weighing you down.

Slowly you start making your way to the local station. From there you will catch a train to the capital. A car with plates from up north would attract too much attention around these parts, and you would surely be subject to a search at one of the checkpoints on the road to the city. The train is the safest option for now. The commuter line to the capital tends to be crowded, so checks are much less common.

You are less than two minutes underway when you notice Rooster’s gait change. It’s heavier and more unbalanced. You surmise the short break his ankle got was really only good for temporary relief. In one fluid movement, you quickly move in front of him, coming up on his injured side. His gaze follows you sharply. Wordlessly, you loop your arms through his, resting the palm of your free hand against his bicep, supporting him as you walk. For a fleeting moment, Rooster brushes his fingers lightly over your hand as thanks. The gesture feels strangely intimate, and it’s over before you can really register what happened. You feel that strange tug in your gut again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you try to sneak a peek at Rooster, expecting to see a grin on his face or a wink your way. He did that to get a rise out of you again, didn’t he? As a joke, to see how you would react. But you feel strangely disappointed, as he’s starting solemnly ahead, not acknowledging you beyond the fleeting touch. But that’s what you wanted, right? You chew on your lip pensively.

The station is not far, and you walk onto the platform still arm in arm. Bradley tries to be as relaxed as possible, but his ankle hurts worse and worse again, the stranger’s suit makes him feel off, and he has to remind himself not to speak under any circumstances. You lead him to a bench, motioning him to sit down while setting your bag down next to him, and you make your way to the ticketing window. Bradley rubs his hand over his leg, trying to stop looking around too much.

The station is a simple small town hub—one central platform, and two tracks on either side. It’s covered by a red-tiled roof on white wooden poles that look a little bit too ornate for a small town station. Only a few people are milling about in the early; some look like factory workers, others are dressed for a day at the office, newspaper tucked under their arm, briefcase in hand. Everyone is quiet. Birdsong sounds from the trees surrounding the platform. There is no snow here, but thin slivers of mist are rising from the damp and cold ground, the smell of pine permeating through the air.

The feeling is creeping on him that he sticks out like a sore thumb and the first policeman or informant will catch him (and you) out. He’s a pilot, not a paratrooper. He should be up in the sky, in dog fights, flying a sortie, or escorting bombers. Not waiting on a train in a strange country.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you stop and talk to a man in what looks like a conductor uniform. Tucking the tickets in your pocket and clutching what looks like a newspaper, you smile politely. From all the way down the platform, your eyes meet his for a moment, before Rooster averts his gaze hastily.

The only way you can really describe Rooster right now, it’s like he’s been poorly stitched into the fabric of reality around him—it’s almost painfully obvious he’s cut from a different cloth, starkly contrasted against the background. He looks uncomfortable, suspicious really, as he is trying to act natural, so consciously every move looks completely calculated.

Meanwhile, he wills himself not to stare, trying not to attract attention to himself, but he is curious why you are choosing to make what looks like polite small talk at a time like this.

“Good morning.” You greet the train conductor making his way down the platform. The man politely tips his hat at you as he sips his coffee. “How is the connection to Prague today, if I may ask?”

An innocuous question.

The burly man looks at you sharply over the top of his silver-rimmed glasses before pulling out the gold-chained watch from his waistcoat and checking the time.

“It’s regular today, according to schedule, Miss.”

An innocuous answer.

You thank the man and bid him goodbye as you turn away. There is no second glance or understanding, nothing to signal that the short, polite exchange was anything more than that. But it’s the part that goes unspoken that tells you the most. The track to the capital hasn’t been sabotaged overnight, and you can expect a smooth ride to your destination.

Thank god.

Something isn’t sitting well with you about this morning—it’s like a weird pinch in your sternum, like a bit of dry bread got stuck.

When you return to the bench where Bradley is sitting, looking like he’s trying very hard not to fidget, you wordlessly hand him the newspaper, as you slide onto the bench next to him. Lacking anything better to do, Bradley unfolds the newspaper and pretends to read. Your hand is resting on his elbow, gently squeezing.

Relax.

Bradley lets out a deep breath.

You didn’t think he’d get this nervous. It feels strange to see him so much out of his element—you had almost started to believe nothing could really disturb his sense of equilibrium, and the way he seemed to breeze through almost every situation. In those first precarious hours after you first found him, get gained the upper hand in the situation so deftly, so confidently, it’s like you hadn’t been holding a gun at all. Even when he was laid up in bed, physically hurt, he didn’t stop his attempts at running circles around you. But now he looks… well, vulnerable.

Together you sit on the bench, as the morning sun streams through the trees. You haven’t taken your hand off his arm, Bradley notices, resting it there comfortably as you read the newspaper over his shoulder. But he’s not complaining. It feels nice. And you seem calm enough for both of you.

Once you board the train and find a spot in an empty compartment, you are still sitting next to him on the wooden bench, but Bradley can’t help but notice the absence of your touch.

The newspaper folded in his lap, he looks out the window as the gently sloping countryside moves past. You are focused on a small notebook in your hands, the pencil gently scratching against the paper. The train is still largely empty, only the conductor moving past the compartments, checking tickets.

Bradley notices your tickets haven’t been checked. He has no idea how the system works, but it strikes him as odd. He considers he could ask you, relatively safely, what’s going on—there is after all no one else with you in the closed compartment, and the rumble of the locomotive easily drowns out most sounds.

But before he can say anything, the train rolls into another station—a larger one this time. Voices fill the hallways before a whistle pierces the rumor, and the train shocks into motion again. You look calm, like nothing out of the ordinary is going on, and you’re simply too preoccupied with your notebook to have a conversation with your traveling companion.

The truth is, you are not writing anything in particular, just jotting down words to appear occupied. You feel like your windpipe is being squeezed, the pressure radiating from your chest. If it was like a piece of bread being stuck there before, it feels a lot more urgent now, like it’s restricting your airflow.

When the compartment door slides open, Bradley stops himself from crinkling the paper between his fingers. You look up calmly, with a smile on your face, simply tucking the pencil between the pages of your notebook and producing two tickets for the pocket of your jacket. Few short words are exchanged. Before the conductor walks out of the compartment again, he shortly taps the pocket of his waistcoat with two fingers, from which the gold chain of his pocket watch hangs. The action is small, yet so deliberate that Bradley can’t help but notice.

When he glances over to you, he sees your demeanor has changed—you’ve gone completely still, only your eyes are quickly flickering over the compartment in panicked movements. As so as the door closes again, you spring into action.

This is it.

Suddenly your soft hands are on his face, pulling him to you. Bradley opens his mouth to speak, but you wrap your arms around his neck, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You’re breathing deeply, deliberately, your mouth close to his ear. A shiver runs down Bradley’s spine, but he’s not sure because it’s your breath caressing the shell of his ear so soft and warm, or the palpable tension that suddenly comes off you in waves.

“Gendarme inspection. It’s going to be okay.” You whisper. “Just don’t look up.”

You are not sure if you are trying to convince him more or yourself. Almost automatically, Bradley brings his hand onto your waist to steady himself, his hand slipping under your unbuttoned coat before his fingers fasten around the fabric of your cotton blouse. The newspaper that has been resting in his lap slides down to the ground with a dull thud. Your body is angled towards him fully now, your knees brushing against his, as you cling to him. More out of instinct than anything else, he presses your body into his—you flow along with his movements easily. Your breathing is level, almost hypnotically so. It’s in stark contrast to your erratic heartbeat, pounding loudly through your chest.

To an outside observer, you look like a young couple sharing an intimate moment, tangled up in each other in the relative privacy of an early morning train. Forehead resting against your shoulder, shielded from the outside world. Bradley’s eyes are wide open. He tries to match his breathing with yours. Your heartbeat is echoing in his ears—he can feel the terror coming off you.

Outside the compartment, he can hear loud voices, the heels of boots clattering down on the wooden floor, almost sending shockwaves through the carriage. Your breath stocks, as your fingers press against the back of Rooster’s neck.

Face turned to the back wall of the compartment, you are biting your lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Don’t come in, don’t come in, for the love of god be lazy today and don’t come in, you pray in your head. If the gendarmes see Rooster’s wounds, there will be questions—questions that he can’t answer. And then it’s a short walk from the train to jail. You can’t bring up the mental energy to think about what happens after.

Rooster’s hand slides up your waist to your rib cage. His large, warm palm feels like it’s leaving a trail of fire on your skin. It makes you realize you are sitting unnaturally still and you’ve been holding your breath. With a heavy sigh, you lean your face forward, nose brushing against the collar of Rooster’s shirt. He smells like soap and aftershave, you note as you breathe deeply again. You can feel your heart jumping in your throat. Focussing your mind on the cadence of the locomotive, you try to minimize the heave of your chest as you breathe.

You sit together like that for what feels like an eternity until the train starts slowing down again and the tremble of boots disappears out the door onto the platform. It’s not until the train starts moving again, you feel the obstruction in your sternum has finally disappeared. Slowly, almost in a haze, you start untangling from each other.

As Bradley lifts his head from your shoulder, and you pull back, your face passes mere millimeters from his. For a short second, your breath mingles. Flustered, you duck away from him, quickly standing up. Eyes still wide, you quickly straighten your hair and button up your coat, as if to close yourself off again. The smell of Bradley’s aftershave lingers on you. It’s making you feel off-kilter.

He notices your slightly swollen lips, and the heave of your chest as you breathe deeply, avoiding his gaze. Your eyes are glazed over as you quickly wet your lips with your tongue. Anyone passing the carriage now would get the wrong (or the right?) idea of what you had been up to.

“How did you know that was going to work?” He asks softly, taking his hat off for a moment and running his hand through his hair, trying to calm his thought running rampant—from realizing how much of a close call that was, to stopping the train of thought where he examines exactly how nicely your body fits against his.

You sit back down again, busying yourself with placing your notebook back into your bag, looking anywhere but at him.

Having you as his handler was going to be absolute torture— Bradley can already feel a headache coming up—if you are going to keep flinging yourself at him unexpectedly like that, or the way you keep touching him (how many times did you grab his face just this morning?) only to shyly scurry away from him after that like a scared little lamb. He is convinced it will drive him insane before anything else in this already crazy situation.

Finally, you look back at him, a nervous smile tugging your lips up. “I didn’t.”

“You’re not serious.” Bradley utters in disbelief, still whispering.

You shake your head, as a giggle escapes you. Quickly, you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle any other sound coming out. Bradley can’t help but break into a grin. Your eyes are practically watering from the effort of trying to stop yourself from laughing.

Now that the tension has suddenly dissolved, one intense emotion makes place for another. Your shoulders are quaking, as you bend forward, both hands now covering your face. You’ve never felt like this before: you suddenly cannot stop laughing, but you don’t even know what’s funny. There’s nothing to laugh about. Rooster and you just only just scraped by, which would have meant certain death for you and Colditz for him.

Bradley reaches out to you, hand rubbing over your shoulder. He slides himself down the bench closer to you.

“People are walking outside.” He whispers, bending forward face close to yours. “And it looks like you’re crying—c’mon doll face, you’re making me look bad.”

He knows how you feel. He felt it many times before when he escaped death by a hair’s breadth. The sudden, almost manic urge to laugh, the tension leaving your body through every gasp of air. But right now, it looks like you’re having a complete breakdown for anyone passing the compartment.

Finally, you straighten up again, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You reply, voice surprisingly sober. Features schooled, except the little lights still dancing in your eyes, and your slightly flustered face, you turn to Rooster. The moment your eyes meet, you start giggling again.

Now, Bradley can’t help but laugh, too. You look so cute, you look so happy. He knew he’d like it when you laughed. A little bit too much, maybe.

***

You are both back to being quiet when you disembark the train. When you told Bradley you were traveling to the capital, he assumed you would arrive at a big station that would be full of people, so you could help him disappear into the crowd.

This is not that. This is a slab of concrete in a grassy clearing, and there is no one around. You don’t pay it any mind, leading Bradley down a small stone path between the trees. It’s only when the path takes a sharp turn, that between the trees rows of houses emerge, flanking a broad street. The houses are large, with walled-in gardens, the sidewalks pristine. Bradley assumes this is a suburb, it has every vibe of one, at least.

Bars built into the garden walls offer a glimpse into the quiet world beyond—a gardener leaning on his rake while enjoying a smoke, a young maid sweeping the stairs leading up the front door. The residents of the large houses—mansions rather—seem to prefer to stay tucked away in their warm homes at this hour.

You practically push Rooster up the step into a tram. He’s looking around so much, he’s not focused on where you are going. As the tram sets into motion, you steer Rooster into a seat, placing yourself between him and the rest of the crowd that will soon enter. He unfolds the newspaper again, although he spends most of his time looking out the window.

It’s sad because the tram’s route will take you through some of the prettiest parts of the city, past the sprawling castle on the hill, the medieval streets and fortifications, and the river. Part of you wishes you could point out every statue and house to Rooster, and introduce him to all the stories and history of the place where you grew up. You are not sure why you want him to know what he should even do with that information, but somehow you feel the urge to explain: it wasn’t always like this.

People are filing into the tram at every stop. Your hip is pressed into Rooster’s shoulder, trying to stay as close to him as possible. As the tram jerks into motion again, you place your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. You half-expect him to pull away, but he stays still, seemingly content, still looking out of the window.

It’s hard to miss—the frequency of the blood-red flags along the road grows more and more frequent. Fancy black cars race up and down the road. The chatter in the tram turns to murmurs. Bradley catches sight of the two tall Hakenkreuz banners flanking a large, ornate gate. The path behind the gate leads to a large fortified structure, with church spires towering over it.

When the tram stops, so does all the talk. Everyone is quiet, as if they are suddenly in mourning.

He looks up at you when he feels your fingers tighten around his shoulder. Your eyes are downcast and your lips are pulled in a tight line, unable to bring yourself to face the banners. Bradley knows he can’t stare, but he’s never seen the occupation so up close before. He has never seen so many Nazis in one place before. Everything is draped in their colors, symbols, and language, so there cannot be any mistake about who is in charge here.

The moment the tram pulls away, the chatter starts up again, like it never stopped in the first place. Without taking his eyes off the newspaper he isn’t reading, Bradley hesitates for a moment, before touching your hand and brushing his fingers over yours. He wants to tell you that he’s sorry. Black and white newspaper pictures don’t do justice to the impact of your everyday reality.

Your hand wraps around his and squeezes gently, if only for a split second, like a small gesture of thanks, before you pull your hand back, leaving him feeling strangely empty again.

***

The streets are dizzying. The sidewalks are all cobblestones, laid out in black and white patterns, small alleyways connect large streets in confusing ways. The buildings are colorful—the pastel greens, yellows, pinks, and blues look almost ironically happy in contrast to the rapidly graying skies.

If someone were to ask Bradley how he got here, he couldn’t tell even if he tried. He assumes you’re doing this on purpose, taking the most complicated route possible as a security measure. The streets are a lot busier here, so you of course haven’t uttered a word—just simply looped your arm through his again as you lead him around another corner into a small and smelly alleyway.

You stop at a dirty wooden door, that looks so rickety, Bradley wonders what is keeping it together in the first place. Quickly checking your surroundings, you bang your shoulder into the door, and it creaks open with difficulty. Immediately, you push Bradley into the dark and musty room, following suit and banging the door shut.

It’s pitch black. And it smells damp.

“What the fuck…” Bradley can’t help himself. He hears you moving around the place, carefully shuffling in the dark like you’re looking for something. At least he hopes it’s you, and not a massive rodent. He hears you cursing softly.

Finally, electricity hums through the air, before a single lightbulb bathes the room in harsh light. Finally, being able to look around, Bradley takes in the strange, empty room. The walls are white but barren, and the dirt floor is dusty. What is this place?

“It’s the old servant entrance.” You clarify, from behind him. You are standing next to narrow stairs, that go up into more darkness. “It hasn’t been used in a long time—most people don’t even remember it’s here.”

“We have quite a few flights to climb, I’m afraid.” You beckon him. “But it’s safe, so we don’t have to hurry.”

“How do you know about this place?” Bradley questions, as you start up the first flight of stairs.

“I found it a long time ago.” You reply lightly, continuing up. “I used to think it was haunted.”

“And is it?”

“Hardly.” You shrug. “The real monsters are outside anyway.”

***

note | It's been such a busy week because everything always comes at once as per usual :( I had like half of this chapter already written, but then I just never got around to the rest. But it's here now! Let me know what you think!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster bradshaw x oc

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droppingartintotheinfinite · 3 months

Text

watched the first episode of the live action atla adaptation and took notes:

-what is this opening. who are these people. am i expected to care about this random earth kingdom man because i really don’t

-opening fight is kinda meh :/

-sozin looks weirdly… nice? like he has “harmless old man” vibes. i don’t actually dislike this casting choice i think there’s a lot of potential to having him look friendly and approachable even as he does war crimes

-seriously did someone in the writer’s room watch rogue one before coming in and then go like “HEY I KNOW WHAT WE SHOULD ADD” WHAT is this plot doing here

-where is katara’s opening narration. like i get they aren’t adapting one to one but that’s such a loss. the opening cutscene from the original series was so good

-WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GAANG SERIOUSLY. WHY ARE WE STARTING WITH RANDOM EARTH KINGDOM MAN AND SOZIN

-all of these people are so fucking sweaty what is this

-sozin’s outfit is appropriately fuckable

-“my sights… are set… higher… because… it is… our time…” “[screaming]” wow very emo

-KATARA IS HERE!! MY BEST GIRL

-why did they change the narration. this is objectively worse.

-oh no this isn’t katara is it… dang :(

-air temple looking neat. why are we here tho. where are katara and sokka

-why is everyone watching aang jumping around like he’s a fucking celebrity. have they never seen an airbender before in the fucking air temple

-at least they say aang’s name right. step up from shamalalalam or whatever his name is. of course that bar is so low the devil declared it a tripping hazard, so

-these people do NOT talk like actual humans. have these writers never had to write natural exposition before

-genuinely what was the point of that first scene. WHAT does it add

-“when yangchen died the next avatar was born into the water tribe” what, does aang not know this. my fucking god this exposition is shit

-aang didn’t know he was the avatar?? and then didn’t immediately get an ego about it when gyatso told him??? who is this and what did you do with my BOY

-the acting isn’t bad but the lines are so shit it’s hard to tell

-aang is NOT sufficiently goofy

-appa’s kind of ugly :(

-TEAM ROCKET’S BLASTING OFF AGAIN (<— my unfiltered reaction to sozin going jetpack mode)

-unnecessary airbender fight scene. i think this is literally just here to look cool and honestly? 6/10

-aang just fuckin… wandered off? instead of willfully running away? bro you can’t take my boy’s agency like this

-i want a video of appa’s va making those noises into the mic. come on netflix do it it’ll be funny

-WHY is everything so WET all the time

-20 minutes in and i have yet to see the south pole. literally none of this is necessary to the story. you could cut all of it and nothing would change

-HERE SHE IS. FINALLY. IT’S HER

-no funny boat scene with sokka? insert no bitches megamind here

-oh they still have a boat scene. unfortunately it sucks ass

-WHERE IS PISSED OFF KATARA DECIMATING AN ICEBERG BY ACCIDENT

-seriously. they’re removing all the good scenes to fit more unnecessary action and/or melodrama filler in

-shitty zuko cameo

-WHAT is that scar. why is it so small. did he fall and get a scrape on his face? looks more like a scab than anything. 2/10

-baffling why the iceberg even reacted to katara when she’s apparently so fucking incapable she can’t even lift a water orb. they’re massacring my girl

-why does sokka want to leave this random child to die

-kanna!

-“it can’t be… this… is an airbender…..” i am rolling my fucking eyes

-iffy on this iroh so far but i’ll reserve judgement

-tumblr was right. zuko’s actor is absolutely putting his whole pussy into this. he can have rights

-how are NONE of these jokes landing. even the ones they directly crib from the original just… lose all impact

-why is kanna saying the intro dialogue randomly with no prompting. seriously these writers are SO. FUCKING. SHIT

-every emotional beat in this comes off more wooden than a fucking tree

-seriously. everything i could say about this just boils down to the wooden writing, unnecessary and poorly executed exposition, the action scenes shoehorned in for no discernible reason, inability to create any impact from anything ever, and the removal of all the good scenes from the original in favor of more unnecessary poorly written TRASH

-oh one more thing actually

-AANG TEACHES KATARA TO WATERBEND. GET OUT??

-basically

-they took all the good stuff out to fit in more melodrama and action, but their writing (and directing. and acting) is too shitty to actually sell said drama and their fight scenes are mid at best

-3/10

#and i’m only giving them THAT much credit because i’ve seen the original adaptation #sol speaks #text post #avatar: the last airbender #atla #atla live action #also there’s just. a whole bunch of unexamined sexism in here #like did you remove the sokka sexism arc because you thought it was too controversial or because you thought he was RIGHT?#phase 52

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ronanception · 2 years

Text

Nancy Wheeler was a journalist and a researcher. When she went to a library, it wasn't just to pick up a popular fiction book from the shelf to read between classes - she was looking for facts and information. Even if Nancy was nervous as hell, she was going to square her shoulders and do her due diligence. This is precisely what she repeated to herself as she took a deep breath in front of the entrance of the city library and forged forward. It was in South End, a few stops and a jog from her campus, which meant Nancy might run into fellow students. However, it was also a satellite location, not the big historical library, so it should be less busy, and easier to navigate. Nevertheless, she had come to her point of no return, and she would risk bumping into a classmate if that meant she got her research materials.

She didn't quite understand her incredibly visceral and physical reactions to this new crisis-of-ethics. She had, after all, always believed herself to be a reasonably progressive woman of the 80s. She had always been the only one who openly scowled and rolled her eyes at her father when he commented about the homosexuals on the nightly news. She had no problem with the gays. So why had her brain been rattling around in her head ever since she had caught Robin - Robin tipping her head back, moaning softly, the lips of a beautiful woman on her neck as she opened her eyes to meet Nancy's.

Stop it. Stop that immediately.

She leaned back against the cool wall of the library with her eyes squinched shut. Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop. Stop. STOP.

She exhaled, a dull thud knocking, sticky and wet, against the back of her eyes.

She proceeded to unpocket the little slip of paper on which she had written the index numbers, 159.973: sexual inversion... homosexuality, 132: Mental Derangements, 616: Neurological Disorders. Her fingers trembled slightly as she walked through the rows of books, looking for those damning numbers. After Nancy found them, she spent a ridiculous amount of time browsing innocuous shelves of literature surrounding the focus topic, nothing that she cared about or mattered. Her brain was spinning out of focus, chest heavy, throat tight, trying to work up the courage to finally get to the shelves that contained the books she was looking for.

Nancy took an additional 10 minutes just casing the aisle, observing the people that passed it by, that stopped to look. Her brain felt like it was over a heater, another dull knock at the back of her eyes when she finally stepped foot in the aisle. Nancy looked nervously over her shoulders as she browsed, part of her imagining that everyone she had ever known(especially her parents) was turning down the narrow aisles, walking towards her, asking her what she was looking at.

She had spent decades in that aisle, she was sure. She took her time, from reading spines and tracing their titles with her fingertips to slowly picking ones that seemed appropriate to read, to actually reading their forwards and indexes. The lending limit was 4 books, not nearly enough. She wondered briefly if she might just take some books out and read them at the reading tables but quickly squashed those thoughts, the heat in her head growing into a small blaze. Nancy would rather die than have someone try to talk to her while reading about this subject. Even a stranger. What if they thought she was… no, that wasn't an option. Disgusting. She couldn't even think about that.

She had finally decided on the four texts that she thought would be best for her research. She could come back when she was done with these. Nancy re-shelved the rejects and stacked the four books, holding them tightly across her chest with her arms crossed in front of their covers, her fingers splaying across the spines to obscure them as much as possible. She felt like her mind was genuinely inflamed as she walked carefully to the librarian's desk and settled into the checkout queue.

Peeking at the library members in front of her, she noticed that the librarian was an attractive young woman, early 30s perhaps, and the inferno in her brain roared with (shame)embarrassment. This isn't the school library, she thought to herself like a mantra; you'll never see her again. She's a stranger. She's a professional. It's 1987… it's Boston, for christs sake. All the same, when they called her up to the desk, it took everything she had not to drop the books and run.

"Spending your Saturday at the library, huh? I bet you'd rather be out with your friends." the librarian said fondly as she pulled the stack of books towards her. "Oh wow! Big weekend. You must have put off your term paper until the last minute. So let's see here, today you're taking home… ah…" the librarian paused, her lips parted, eyes widened slightly before she resumed a neutral expression and began to unstack and open the front flaps, whisking out the cards inside. "Your name, dear?" She asked sweetly, seemingly unaffected beyond the momentary pause in the conversation.

"Nancy Wheeler."

"A little louder, hon; I didn't catch that. "

"Nancy, wheELER." she repeated, her voice breaking and coming out loudly … excessively loud. She felt actual tears pushing at the bottom of her vision. The woman in front of her looked up from writing Nancy's name and smiled at her with saccharine sweetness, her eyes a little sad.

"Heavy subjects here." She commented softly, maintaining eye contact. Nancy nodded in a short jerk, eyes downcast as she pulled on her left thumb as hard as possible. The librarian wrote Nancy's name on each slip, then stamped them with the due date before slipping a reminder slip into the pages of each book as a bookmark. She stacked the books on top of each other, then hesitated, "These are some pretty… intense interpretations of the subject, Miss. Wheeler. I'm not sure what your professor wants to hear in your paper," she confided quietly, winking quickly at Nancy and causing her to feel a small trickle of relief even if her heart began to beat faster, "but you might want to come back when you're done with these and look in our fiction section. It may be classified as fiction, but it comes from people who have first-hand experience." The librarian snatched up a due date reminder slip and flipped it onto its back, scribbling onto it. She then reached under the desk to pull out a smaller book, replacing the bookmark with the slip, and slid it on top of the pile.

"Here, I was reading this, but it's my own copy, so why don't you just take it with you, alright? I can check out our library copy just fine, and you can have this one." She smiled, once again looking a bit forlorn as she pushed the stack of books back towards Nancy. "You can bring it back. Maybe we could talk about it... Not that you have to, of course. It's yours now, Nancy Wheeler." she said with finality. Nancy swallowed and nodded, hastily grabbing the books, hugging them to her chest.

"Thank you…" she paused, looking at the woman's nameplate, "Cynthia. Thank you, Cynthia." She said quickly before turning on her heel and all but dashing for the exit.

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #honestly mostly nancy #comphet #apologies #I'm over 6k words now with an outline #but still writing as it comes to me #a lot happens #I'd say this is in the first third of the story #anyways have fun losers #smooch #this is such an incredibly personal bit of fiction #the book she’s given is Annie On My Mind!#my writing

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violet0203 · 2 years

Text

insecurities and the haikyuu characters

Miya Atsumu

Atsumu always have had a lot of fans. Since his very early days as a volleyball player and that hasn’t change now that he plays pro, otherwise probably now has increased.

You are pretty used to them every time you go out or during the games. No big trouble.

But there are some days when you feel a little off and you are not that comfortable and some ideas just get in your head.

Today was one of those days.

Miya Atsumu had invited to you to a gala that the MSBY were doing to celebrate their anniversary. All the players were going to be, plus some media and some fans.

You were trying to get ready but not one even one of your dresses seem appropriate. Too long, too short, doesn’t fit you well, etc. The frustration was starting to go up as well as the anxiety because there were only 30 minutes left and you haven’t even donde your makeup.

Would it be too late to ask Atsumu to invite Osamu instead of you?

You gave one more look to your closet trying to find something. You sighed. The red dress would have to do.

Now your makeup. Simple stuff. Gold shades are always reliable with some gloss. You tried to do your eyeliner and for god sake this time was even in both eyes. Luckily because you would have probably gave up if you had to do all over again.

As you didn’t have enough energy to do your hair, you just put some curl cream and tried to make it look more defined.

When you finished you looked yourself in the mirror. You didn’t fell your best, but there wasn’t time. Anyways everyone will be looking at Atsumu and not you.

“Hey, babe you’re ready?” the boy asked knocking softly two times at your door.

You went to open the door and you were definitely right, everyone was going to be looking at him. Should be a require to Atsumu to wear a tux everyday, because he was astonishing.

“Wow”

“Yeah, wow” he agreed, taking your hand and making you twirl “Perfect”.

“Haven’t you look yourself? Miya Atsumu I swear that every day you are more handsome” he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to kiss you. Repeatedly. Until you made him stop “We will be late”.

The setter groaned, but waited for you to grab your purse before both going downstairs and getting in his car.

The place was a few 20 minutes away from your house. You were nervous, despite Atsumu’s reaction your insecurities were still troubling your head.

He parked the car and helped you getting out of the car. Soon, someone of the production guided you to a red carpet where you had to pose for some pictures for the press.

When it was your turn, both walked together holding hands and smiled to the cameras. Then you left him to pose alone for some pictures, he was the pro volleyball player. You always have love how incredibly comfortable he was with the attention.

There were also a lot of screaming since it was an outside space so many fans have arrived to get a chance to see them. As usual a lot of them where screaming for Atsumu and he took some time to go and autograph some stuff.

“Sorry for taking so long” he said once he approached to you to go together into the salon where the party was going.

“No need to apologize for being an amazing person”

“Tsum-Tsum! y/n!” screamed Bokuto once he saw you. He was with some of the other players so you took the chance to say hi to everyone.

You chatted with them, but as this was also an event for the fans soon were interrupted by some of them trying to take photos or just have a conversation with the players. As this was happened you decided to take a step back and watch from a distance.

All of the fans looked gorgeous in beautiful dresses, makeups and hairstyles. More perfect than you. Some of them being a little handsy. And they were making Atsumu laugh a lot, probably having a better time with them than with you.

No.

You needed to stop that train of thoughts. He had never done more than praise you whenever he had a chance. You were just having a bad self-esteem day.

With everything you were feeling a little out of breath, therefore you walked away and tried to find the restroom. You got into a corridor and started to open the doors, but most of them were empty rooms, until you got to one stretch room ocuppied by an outside hitter.

“Omi? What are you doing here?” he was almost seated in the floor using his phone.

“A lot of people out there, not really comfortable with all the possible germs. And you?”

“Looking for the restroom” you said but he inferred that something was wrong when you seated in front of them.

“Something troubling you? Wanna talk?”

“… some insecurities… today i wasn’t feeling pretty… and there are a lot of fans around Tsumu, so everything just… i don’t know… I trust him, but its me who is not feeling well”

“For what it’s worth i think you look amazing tonight”

“Thank you Omi”

Not even five seconds later the door opened and entered Atsumu. He say hi to Kiyoomi as this got up and wave off you, he would try to share a little with some fans and give you a moment.

The blonde guy sat right beside you and put one of his arms over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. Then he laid a kiss in your hair while doing circles in your hair.

“What are you doing here Tsumu?”

“I saw you leave, but it took me sometime to finish a conversation with a fan”

“Babe, you should get back to them”

“Mm… i don’t know, i don’t feel so well”

You knew that it wasn’t true and that he was just saying it because you weren’t feeling good.

“But his is your team event, you can’t leave”

“I already did presence, the press has enough photos and the fans will keep being entertained by Hinata and Bokkun”

“You don’t have to do this for me. It’s just insecurities that will pass tomorrow, don’t wanna ruin your day”

“You don’t, being with you at our home, wearing something comfortable and just cuddle all night it’s way better that this, so c’mon let’s go” he said getting up and offering his hand to help you.

When you were standing he wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head in his chest “You know i love you, right?”

“Yeah, i know, and i love you more”

#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu imagine

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faulty-writes · 2 years

Note

iida x fem reader go to the carnival (including the rest ) and his reaction to y’all kissing on top of the ferris wheel please 💖💖

[ Ah, yes. Field trip to the carnival. I just love writing for Tenya and he gets a kiss in this one, hell yeah! This sounds super cute, I apologize for taking so long to do your request. But it's Tenya, so maybe it's worth the wait especially given how I write him. Ashido is once again acting like the wingman in this fic. I hope you enjoy. ]

"Whoo carnival!" Ashido shouted, walking alongside Katsuki, Eijirou, Hanta, and Kaminari. "I'm planning on riding the manliest rollercoaster here!" Eijirou declared with his fist raised in the air. "There's no such thing here dumbass!" Katsuki snapped.

"I hate to say it, but Bakugou may have a point," Hanta said, while Kaminari tapped his chin. "How many rides can we actually go on? Some of them are for kids," you covered your mouth, trying not to chuckle at their conversation as you passed by them.

You were walking with Uraraka, Izuku, and Tenya. "This is going to be great!" she declared excitedly. "Don't you think Y/n?" she questioned, turning to look at you with her big brown eyes. "Um..." you glanced around, feeling a little anxious because of the crowd.

Then again, you should have expected that parents would bring their children here. You were never a big fan of social events, but everyone in Class A seemed to collectively agree that they wanted to come here. Personally, you didn't see anything special about it.

"It's kind of crowded?" you replied, giving Uraraka an awkward smile. Tenya glanced at you, uncertain as to why you would make such an obvious statement. "Uh...I think Y/n is r-right...maybe we should have c-come at a later time," Izuku chimed in, being his usual shy self.

"I believe this is the ideal time of day to participate in the carnival, we have a curfew to keep, and arriving any later would result in breaking said curfew," Tenya replied just before glancing down at a small pamphlet. You furrowed your brow, leaning to the side to try and see what he was looking at.

"There are several safe and age-appropriate rides we can participate in," he paused and pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, raising his unusual-looking eyebrow when he noticed how oddly close you were to him.

"Oh heh..." you leaned back, gently bumping into Uraraka. "Sorry," you muttered before Tenya cleared his throat. "I believe it would be of use to go over the precautions I had previously-" his words came to an abrupt stop when Uraraka suddenly grabbed Izuku's wrist and proceeded to run.

"Goodbye Iida!" she shouted, waving her hand with a smile while Izuku turned red in the face. Tenya's body stiffened and he raised his hand, chopping it furiously through the air. "Do not run in a crowded area! It's quite rude to leave without properly finishing a conversation!" why did no one listen to reason?

Were rules and safety precautions not meant to be followed? It disappointed him, but this was more or less how he was always treated. "I suppose it cannot be helped," he said, folding the pamphlet up before tucking it into his pocket.

Your heart raced at the realization that you were now alone with him. You had developed feelings for Tenya recently and only you and the rest of the girls knew about it, or so you thought. On occasion, you would get paranoid believing that your feelings for him were obvious to everyone.

But, even if that were the case nobody said anything. "Y/n," came Tenya's smooth voice, causing a shiver to course down your spine. "Uh..." your mouth felt dry and you knew you couldn't possibly act normal when you were alone with him.

"Uh y-yeah!?" you exclaimed with a nervous laugh, startling him in the process. He took a step back, looking concerned and bewildered. Blinking once or twice, he leaned over and asked "Are you well?" and you mentally slapped yourself. It hadn't even been a minute and you were already making a fool of yourself.

You latched onto your lip, nodding in response. "Hm..." he leaned back up and grasped his chin, studying you for a moment. He wasn't certain why you always seemed to display such odd tendencies around him. The obvious explanation failed to come to him.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke. "I see," turning his head, he placed his hand against his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. You looked at him confused, but quickly assumed he was looking at something in the distance.

"I believe the safest and least crowded ride would be the Ferris wheel," he said, and you took a step back. "F-Ferris wheel?" you repeated, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Weren't Ferris wheels usually romantic?

Tenya noticed the discoloration of your cheeks immediately. "Perhaps you would favor a drink first?" he asked, having noted that the nearest concession stand wasn't crowded. "Um, s-sure!" you replied, once again raising your voice by mistake.

But, he seemed to ignore this and nodded. "Very well, I do not believe that would alter our schedule negatively," he said, walking over to the concession stand he previously spotted and you were quick to follow. Maybe a drink would help you, or at least help your body physically cool down.

For a moment you wondered where Shoto was because you could sure make use of his ice quirk right now, but more than likely he had met up with your other classmates. This was turning more into a group trip rather than a school one. You glanced over, taking the sight of Tenya in.

'Why is he so handsome?' you thought, shifting your gaze to the sky and the few clouds that floated by. Tenya insisted on paying for your drink, although you had settled on getting water as opposed to one of the many sugary-drinks that took up a majority of the menu.

"Do you have a fear of heights or any heart conditions I am not aware of?" he asked while the two of you waited in line for the Ferris wheel. You looked at him with a furrowed brow, then again you should have expected him to ask something like that.

"Um, n-no..." you responded, yeah sometimes heights were scary but they were better when someone else was by your side. "Very well, I am glad to know that," he responded in an almost robotic way. 'Why do I like this guy again?' you thought, giving a nervous chuckle.

It was like a switch, one day he was just a normal classmate, and the next he was a love interest. Jeez, no wonder they say feelings are complicated. You were distracted from your thoughts when you heard the sound of Ashido's voice.

"Ohhh Y/n and Iida!" she called, rushing up to you with Kyoka, Momo, and Tsuyu trailing behind her. "Oh, hi Mina," you responded, somewhat thankful that she and the other girls had shown up. Ashido smiled and folded her hands behind her back.

"Is this a date?" she teased, making you blush furiously while Tenya just looked plain confused. You stepped forward, covering her mouth with your hand. She mumbled something in response and began moving her arms frantically, but you ignored this and looked at Tenya from over your shoulder.

"I'll be r-right back!" you said, dropping your hand from her mouth and grabbing her wrist to drag her away. Kyoka, Momo, and Tsuyu looked at each other with concern and were quick to follow behind you and Ashido who you dragged around the nearest corner.

"What was that about!?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot against the ground. "Yeah, I've never seen you act that way before Y/n," Tsuyu said, placing her hand on your back.

"She's got a point, you haven't been so chill lately," Kyoka pointed out, twirling one of her elongated lobes around her finger. Momo nodded in agreement and approached, leaning down to be face-to-face with you.

"Why don't you tell us what's going on?" she said, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I understand that you have a crush on Iida but-" she was silenced when you hissed out "Shhh!" and glanced around in a paranoid fashion.

"Wait...you haven't told him yet?" Kyoka asked, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You turned to look at her, "W-well I..." Tsuyu then tugged on the back of your shirt. "Is there something wrong? Ribbit, are you afraid Iida will reject you?" Of course, you were afraid of being rejected!

Tenya was so focused on being a hero, he probably didn't even notice you had feelings for him or maybe he had and was waiting for the right moment to put you down gently or worse! He was ignoring the fact you had feelings for him until he knew they no longer existed.

Your head was beginning to hurt with all this paranoid thinking. You frowned and focused your attention on the ground, kicking a pebble. "Is it that obvious?" you asked with a slightly disgruntled voice making all four of the girl's frown. "Sorry," Tsuyu was the first to speak up.

"I didn't mean to upset you it's just..." Kyoka paused and looked at Momo who pressed her hands against her chest. She was good at giving advice when it came to academics but romance, not so much. "Uh...well..." she shifted her eyes back and forth, trying to come up with something to say.

"It's just that...there's nothing wrong with liking someone," she concluded, "Iida is very intelligent and sweet and-" her words were cut off when Ashido grabbed your shoulders and proceeded to shake you. "Kiss him already!" she demanded, making your face bright red.

"What!?" you squeaked out while Tsuyu, Kyoka, and Momo looked at her with just as much disbelief. "Um, Mina is that a good idea?" Momo asked only to have Ashido glare at her in response. "Of course, it's a good idea!" she concluded before turning back to look at you.

"The only way you're going to figure out what you really want is to go after it!" she exclaimed with a pointed finger. "The Ferris wheel is your perfect chance," she said, but the thought of kissing Tenya was more than you could bare. "B-but-" you tried to argue but Ashido shook her head.

"No buts! We'll support you, right!?" she said, referring to herself, and the three other girls. "Wait a min-" Kyoka tried to argue but was interrupted by Ashido who threw her arms around each of them, pulling them close in somewhat of a forced hug.

"We'll take a ride on the Ferris wheel too, and we won't be too far away if you need us!" she declared and for a moment, you could hardly believe you were actually considering going through with what she said. Then again, maybe it would be better for you to rip the bandaid off.

To see if your feelings would grow or wilt away. Taking a deep breath, you curled your hands into fists and raised one in the air. "I'll do it!" you declared, despite the butterflies growing in your stomach. Momo and Tsuyu looked shocked, Kyoka just raised her eyebrow and Ashido smiled.

"Yes!" she declared, throwing her arms into the air. "We'll go stand in line, and you go back to Iida before it's too late!" she said, urgently grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to turn around. You weren't expecting to be shoved forward, but you imagined the way you stumbled to regain your balance was amusing to some.

"Hey!" you snapped, grateful you hadn't fallen to the ground and ruined your outfit. The last thing you needed was for Tenya to complain that you had gotten dirty. You cast a glare at Ashido who only smiled and motioned for you to go.

You frowned and crossed your arms in a huff. "Fine," you said before taking a deep breath to regain your composure. Of course, this did very little considering your heart sped up as soon as you saw Tenya who was now standing at the front of the seemingly short Ferris wheel line.

"Sorry!" you said, running up to him just as the ride operator opened the gate. "Hm?" he turned, glancing over you once. His gaze made you tremble, but you prayed that wasn't noticeable. "That's quite alright," he said before gesturing to the ride with his hand.

"I believe it is our turn to board," you looked over, seeing the ride operator motioning you forward. "Oh, sorry!" you said, walking up the short ramp to one of the pods of the Ferris wheel. "Pardon," Tenya said, walking past you and into the pod.

Then, he turned and offered you his hand. "Please be aware of the small gap, I do not wish for you to misstep and injure yourself," your heart sped up and you stared at his offered hand before hesitantly grabbing it.

You felt tingles run down your arm as he helped you climb inside and you could hardly believe that you were sitting next to him, all alone. Silence filled the air and you felt the gentle breeze against your face when the wheel began to move.

You looked around, watching as the ground became smaller and smaller. As you neared the top of the Ferris wheel, you grasped the edge of the pod and leaned over. "Pardon my touch," Tenya said, laying his hand on your shoulder which caused your heart to skip a beat.

"Uh..." when you turned your head to look at him, you felt the butterflies in your stomach multiple. "Leaning over any open space can result in serious injury," he said with his normal serious expression on.

"Oh, uh, r-right," you said, taking your seat once more and folding your hands between your thighs. You frowned and looked away from him. Everything was so small, but the colors that painted the ground below seemed to stand out.

"Mm..." you glanced back at Tenya, who was sitting straight in his seat. His shoulders squared and his gaze was fixated forward. "Um...I-Iida," you said, hoping to get his attention. The Ferris wheel moved once again and you felt a little uneasy knowing you were at the very top of it.

The pod rocked back and forth, and when Tenya turned to look at you, the realization of what you were determined to do finally sank in. "Yes, Y/n?" he said, and you couldn't help but focus on his lips. How would you go about kissing him?

You had limited time left and you knew it was now or never. "Can I..." you scooted closer causing him to raise his eyebrow. You draped your arm against his shoulder and grasped the back of his neck with your hand. Almost smiling when you felt how he trembled at your touch.

"I..." Tenya cleared his throat, "may I ask what you are doing?" he certainly was unfamiliar with such affectionate touches. For a brief moment, you thought about backing out. Tell him that it was all a joke and that his expression was laughable and that you were only teasing him.

But instead, you mustered the courage to place your opposite hand against his cheek noticing that it was warm. Were you making Tenya nervous and if so, how? He was the calmest and most collected person you had ever seen. Well...as long as you didn't hit a sore spot of his.

"I...w-want to t-tell you something," you replied nervously which made his unusual eyebrows raise. "I...I'm afraid I do not know what you need to verbally express that involves physical touch," he said, he was not used to someone being this forward with him.

Your heart was beating frantically, and in a split-second decision, you reached up and snatched his glasses off. "Excuse me!" he exclaimed, unexpectedly leaning forward. His chest collided with yours and you instinctively leaned back, trying to keep the glasses out of his reach.

The hand that was pressed against the back of his head was now fisted into the back of his shirt and you heard the gears to the Ferris wheel roar to life and the seat tilted backward signaling that you were about to move again.

'The Ferris wheel is your perfect chance,' Ashido's words echoed in your head and you closed your eyes, feeling Tenya's hand grasp onto yours in an effort to retrieve his glasses. You leaned forward, roughly pressing your lips against his.

He wasn't expecting to feel your warm and slightly fruity-tasting lips against his. A chill ran through his body and all at once he froze, eyes wide in disbelief. Yet, there was a certain excitement that filled him and caused his heart to speed up to an unusual pace.

He failed to notice his breathing had halted until he jolted away and gasped violently. That's when he noticed he felt slightly hotter than usual and reached up, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Then he proceeded to press one hand to the side of his neck, feeling just how high his pulse rate was.

Your face remained equally as red as his, but unlike him, you didn't need to question why you were blushing. "Uh...s-sorry," you stuttered out, feeling the way your lips tingled. He looked at you, his eyes still full of disbelief but he said nothing.

"Ahhhh!" Ashido squealed, leaning halfway out of the pod with Tsuyu desperately clinging onto the back of her shirt. She was holding her phone up and grinning happily at the picture she had taken of you and Tenya kissing.

"Was it really necessary to take their picture?" Momo asked, sounding almost bored and Kyoka was sitting to the side of her, seemingly in her own little world. Tsuyu pulled Ashido back into the pod, "I think it was a little weird to take a picture of their private moment," she replied but Ashido waved her off.

"Y/n will be so happy I took her picture with Tenya!" she announced, making Momo sigh and Tsuyu press a finger to her chin, tilting her head in confusion. "Do you think that means she finally told Iida that she likes him?" Ashido asked with a smile, but Tsuyu remained silent while Momo merely shrugged.

"I just...I mean I w-wanted to tell you that I...I l-like you," a long moment of silence followed your confession and you handed him his glasses back. After he cleaned them with a cloth, he put them back on and looked at you. His face was still colored red and you were almost certain he was going to reject you.

But instead, what he said surprised you. "If one has feelings for another, it isn't proper to kiss until the two consent and agree to a date," you blinked in response. "Huh?" what the hell did that mean? He grasped his chin and leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed.

The Ferris wheel continued to move and you frowned. "So does that mean-" you jumped when he suddenly turned to look at you. "I believe I can rearrange my schedule to reserve two hours of time on Saturday," you furrowed your brow.

"Wait...so...you want to go on a date?" you asked and watched as he raised one eyebrow. "I believe that is what one does when they wish to perform such actions as kissing, correct?" he responded, making you flush again.

"Uh, r-right!" you said before realizing that you were back where you started. The Ferris wheel had stopped and the ride operator walked over and motioned for the two of you to get off. Once again Tenya walked ahead of you and offered his hand to help you step off the pod.

"Perhaps we can enjoy the rest of these rides and discuss what we would like to do on our official date," he suggested. "Mm..." you nodded in response. In the back of your mind, however, you worried about what crazy thing Ashido would convince you to do on your future date.

#tenya x reader #iida x reader #tenya x you #iida x you #tenya x y/n #iida x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #faulty writes: tenya iida #faulty writes: tenya iida: one shot

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ferretrade · 2 years

Text

Happy Skybridger week day 1! Modern AU + First Kiss

Here’s the thing: Luke Skywalker isn’t the mysterious new kid who took the school by storm or the quiet nerd who had a puberty glow up over the summer before senior year. Ezra’s known him, pretty well, since elementary school when they sat at the same cluster of desks and Leia scolded him for stealing Luke’s favorite strawberry-shaped eraser. They’ve carpooled. Ezra helped him get elected as Leia’s VP on student council. Luke brings him a Gatorade (orange) after soccer games if he brings one for Leia (lime cucumber). Luke’s not a surprise, not anything unexpected—until he is.

And it all starts when Luke pushes him in the pool.

"What's up with the rumors about you?" Ezra asks unsympathetically, stealing the empty seat next to Luke. "Everyone's saying you walked out on Wedge because you think you're too good for him."

It’s the second day of school, but still hot as midsummer and they're in the Skywalker-Naberrie backyard along with half the girls’ and boys’ soccer teams. Leia’s holding court on the other side of the pool, glowing beautifully in the sun. (Ezra blows her a kiss when she catches his eye, getting a stuck out tongue in reply.)

"Go away Ezra," Luke says, tiredly. He can imagine the glare behind Luke's sunglasses.

Ezra doesn't, in part because he's a nosy little shit by nature but also because he feels a little protective. Luke is Leia's brother, after all. If people are going to talk shit about Luke, he's going to defend him appropriately.

"Come on," he needles. "I know you're not actually stuck up, so something must have happened, right?"

As much as other students occasionally like to say nasty things about the twins (jealousy is unavoidable when you're pretty, successful, and actually genuinely nice), they're not snotty rich kids. If they were, Ezra certainly wouldn't be hanging around them.

Luke falters and Ezra can tell he wants to tell someone. Leia admitted he wouldn't even tell her. He pushes the sunglasses up into his golden hair, eyes narrowing. "He tried to kiss me and I wasn't ready for it, okay? I mean, we were at Dex's. Who tries to make out over burgers?"

Ezra very wisely decides not to mention the fact that the back booth tucked almost entirely out of sight is known to be a prime kissing spot. Still he can't help staring a bit incredulously. "That's all?"

Luke just blinks at him, giving a seriously? look.

"No, I mean, I'm not saying you had to kiss him or whatever but I guess… I don't know, I've never heard anyone freak out about kissing other than like, a first kiss."

Luke flushes, avoiding his eyes suddenly and Ezra gapes.

"Wait—no. That's not… have you really never kissed anyone?" It's impossible. Ezra wracks his brain for relationships Luke's been in, but he supposes there hasn't really been any. Still, he always assumed Luke was making out with his robot club nerd friends or something at parties.

"It's not a big deal," Luke says icily.

Ezra immediately backs down, cringing inside. He's being a dick. "Sorry! It's not. I just figured you had because basically everyone's in love with you."

"Not everyone," Luke mutters, but Ezra ignores it. The wheels in his brain are already turning, churning out a new, bad idea.

"Hey, you can kiss me," Ezra exclaims proudly.

"What?"

He continues to ignore Luke's aghast, flushed reaction. "It's perfect. You can get it over with and there's no pressure. I'll even practice with you if you want to get good before going out with someone again."

Admittedly, it feels a little dangerous to suggest, but what's a little making out between friends? And Luke is objectively pretty, it's not like it would be a hardship.

Luke stands up suddenly. "Leave me alone," he hisses, stepping away.

Ezra jumps to his feet in a panic. "What's the problem?" He stops Luke with a hand on his wrist. "You said it's not a big deal and it doesn't have to be! This way you won't panic on your next date. And I promise I won't fall for you or anything."

He says the last part like a joke, but something about it makes Luke's gaze go flinty and his mouth twist. And then he's shoving Ezra in the pool.

Ezra comes up sputtering, water dripping down his face. Everyone's oohing and he can hear Leia yelling at Luke, but as he pulls himself out on the side of the pool, all he can do is watch Luke storming away like a beautiful, wrathful god.

Wow, is the first thought that really processes. Followed by, oh shit.

"Fuck no," Leia groans as she approaches him, throwing a towel at his head.

Ezra catches it with his face, nearly falling back in the pool. "What?" He glares at her, even if he knows already that she must have read the admiration on his face. They know each other inside and out, almost as well as Leia knows Luke.

"You can't have a thing for my brother just because he was mean to you."

Ezra flushes a little, tries to deflect. "It's not a thing." But his heart flutters and suddenly all he can think about is how Luke has always been there and his smile and mouth and the ways he's strong and fierce that Ezra's never really noticed because… because he's always thought of Luke as an extension of Leia, he supposes.

He scrubs his face with the towel, groaning into it just a little.

"I'm not helping you, Bridger," Leia says, but there's something soft in her eyes.

"Doesn't matter." Ezra raises his head, confidently. "Suddenly realizing you're into someone because they're mean isn't a real thing that happens and I don't like people who are mean to me anyways. I like totally normal, nice people. So there's nothing to help me with."

Leia snorts indelicately and shakes her head, but they silently agree to ignore this mess.

Ezra can't ignore this mess. He spends hours scrolling through Luke's Instagram and all the photos and group texts he has of him. How has he never realized how cute and funny Luke is?!

Something has to be done, so he does it by showing up to Luke's house the next morning.

Luke's face flashes with something uncertain before he settles his expression into a scowl. "Leia's not here."

"I know. I was hoping you'd give me a ride anyway," Ezra says with his best smile. Normally, he would have biked over early to go with Leia and crash her whatever overachiever club meeting, but this is the perfect chance to be alone with Luke. If he'll have him. If not, he'll have to take an embarrassing school bus ride or beg Hera to drive him (even worse, considering the amount of times he's had idiot underclassmen ask who the hot lady he's with is).

"Fine," Luke grumbles. A win.

Ezra manages to stay quiet and polite until the second he's in the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry for yesterday," he says, so sudden that Luke flinches. "I shouldn't have said any of that, it was all wrong. I wanted to help you and I didn't even think about how it'd make you feel or what you wanted."

Luke looks him over with appraising eyes. "I'm not going to apologize to you," he says, but a smile inches on his mouth.

Ezra laughs. "No, I deserved it."

A calm settles between them. Luke glances at him almost shyly. "The thing is, I'm demisexual," he explains quietly. "I've never wanted to make out with strangers like you do."

"I wouldn't say I make out with strangers," Ezra starts before noticing Luke's amused smile. "Yeah, right, not the point." He clears his throat. "I'm sorry if I made you feel weird about it. There's nothing wrong with that."

He can't help moving his arm to the center console, pressed against Luke's so their fingers brush. It's stupid, but it makes his stomach flip.

"Thanks," Luke breathes out. "I know what everyone thinks of me. I shouldn't have gone out with Wedge in the first place, but… he's like a puppy. How do you say no to a puppy?"

Ezra laughs, a little mesmerized by the wry glee on Luke's features. Damn, he has it bad.

"So, if someone liked you a lot, in a no pressure, no kissing necessary unless you're into it way, what should they do?" Ezra asks before he can stop himself.

Luke's mouth opens and closes, cheeks tinging pink.

"Sorry." Ezra winces. "I shouldn't have—I made this weird again."

No," Luke interrupts. Suddenly his hand is covering Ezra's and the butterflies multiply. "I, uh, I've had a crush on you forever."

Ezra can't help staring at him, wide-eyed. How did he never notice? Then again, it hardly mattered now. "Really?"

"Despite my better judgment, yeah," Luke teases and it makes Ezra melt a little. "So, if you asked me out, I wouldn't say no."

"Will you go out with me?" Ezra asks immediately.

Luke laughs softly and nods. "Somewhere better than Dex's, though."

"Of course." Ezra nods eagerly.

For a moment, Luke just stares at him, eyes dropping to his mouth. And then he's cupping Ezra's cheek and leaning in slowly. Ezra lets his eyes flutter shut and their lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss. It feels like pure electricity.

He stares at Luke, a little dazed, when the kiss breaks.

"Someone told me I should get that out of the way," he says with a smirk.

Ezra laughs. "Sounds like a real idiot."

"He is." Luke shrugs. "But he's pretty cute."

Ezra flusters under the praise and lets Luke kiss him again.

#skybridger #skybridger week #i never thought i'd write a high school au but this silly idea was too fun to not #ezra bridger #luke skywalker #abp fic

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noforkingclue · 2 years

Note

Prodigal Son AU where instead of Malcolm being the one to get his father arrested, gn!reader was the one who got The Surgeon caught? The specifics of how they did it doesn't need to be disclosed but I would love to read when Malcolm meets them (maybe Gil and reader are friends) and maybe even everyone's reaction when Surgeon escapes. Sorry if this isn't what you want, feel free to ignore it lol.

I love Prodigal Son and I'm so upset that there's not going to be a series 3. Oh well, another show I need to add to my 're-watch list'

Title: Be Seeing You

Prodigal Son tag list: @takethee, @queenoffandom08, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You bit your lip and paced nervously around the room. It was usual for you to be so nervous and it was unsettling you. You looked at you watch and grimaced when you saw the time. Gil was late and he was never late which did little to ease your nerves. You jumped when the door open and you spun around to see an amused looking JT.

“Never seen you like this before,” he said as he handed you a coffee, “Relax.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered, “Fuck, why did Gil have to do this?”

JT put a comforting hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You smiled at him but that quickly disappeared when Gil entered the room. A brief frowned flickered across his face but you could tell he understood your nervousness. He nodded at you as he walked further into the room and the man you were most nervous about meeting followed.

As soon as you locked eyes with Malcolm everything came rushing back. It had been years since you had seen him despite the two of you being close childhood friends. The thought of the future the two of you could’ve had came crashing back in that moment. Malcolm paused in the doorway, seemingly shocked to actually see you there even though you both knew that you’d be meeting

“Malc,” you said, “olm,” you quickly finished, not sure if there nickname you used to use was appropriate, “It’s… umm… you look…”

“Y/n.”

Malcolm slowly made his way over to you. You swallowed thickly as you finally took him in, still not believing that it was him after all these years. You frowned slightly as you took in the bags under his eyes and wondered if it was somehow your fault. Silence fell between you as all you did was drink in each other’s appearance. There was too much to say and yet neither of you could find the words to speak. Eventually it was JT who broke the silence.

“Well, this is awkward. How did you know each other?”

“Childhood friends.” Malcolm said

“And you told the police who his dad is?” said JT

“I was ten,” you said turning to face JT, “I didn’t believe what I was seeing and told my parents who then told the police. I…” you looked back at Malcolm, “I’m sorry. I destroyed your family.”

“Don’t be,” Malcolm, after a moment’s hesitation, put his hands on your shoulders, “If it wasn’t for you my father would probably be free and he would’ve killed more people. Think of all the lives you saved.”

“But-“

“Please,” Malcolm gave you a pleading look, “I don’t want you to-“

Malcolm was cut off by his phone ringing. He glanced down at it and a worried expression crossed his face. He took a step back from you to answer it as JT and Gil approached you.

“So,” said JT, “What’s going on between you and Bright. Besides from the obvious that is.”

You opened your mouth and respond but was interrupted but Malcolm shouting,

“You are not speaking to them!”

“Malc,” you said, “Who is it?��

Malcolm gave you a worried look and seemed to pale even more when the person on the other end of the phone seemed to say something. He closed his eyes and held out the phone to you and said quietly,

“I’m sorry.”

You wordlessly took the phone from him and put it to your ear and a chillingly familiar voice said,

“Y/n, my dear. So good of you to speak to me.”

Memories of family dinners flooded back to you. How much Martin Whitley seemed like the perfect family man and close friend of your parents.”

“Now then,” he continued, “I know you must be wanting to hang up but I would advise you not to do that.”

“What do you want?”

You moved away from your friends as Malcolm seemed to be filling them in with what had happened. Gil practically ran from the room as you started pacing again.

“Just to let you and Malcolm know that I’m out.”

“Out? As in-“

“Free,” Martin’s tone suddenly lost all cheerfulness as he continued, “And I’m sure we’re going to meet very soon.”

You stared in horror at Malcolm as Martin hung up. Tension filled the room and you found yourself saying,

“We are so fucked.”

#fanfiction #prodigal son #reader insert #request #malcolm bright #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm whitly #malcolm whitly x reader

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earlgreymon · 2 years

Text

hot summer night

🍶 miyako + iori // [day 6] exam (challenge) - for @digiweek 2022 for this day, i'm trying to write about that one dynamic (and perhaps two characters) i rarely wrote about. this fic was tricky to write and i even finished this the last one among all the digiweek contents i created. but that's what this day is about, right? and frankly i'm happy with the result! this fic was inspired by this fanart. the first time i saw it, i knew i had to write about iori accompanying drunk miyako someday. this fic sets before kizuna and before miyako left for spain. idk why i remembered miyako having an exchange program instead of being a full-time student in barcelona. let's just assume it that way in this case, and sorry if i was wrong. at least i correctly implied miyako as a gemini (this is canon fyi). also, no, this is not a romance fic between those two, even though it has hot in the title (sorry i'm on title block so i only snatched one of the script's song titles). there's a minor kenyako, though. happy reading!

___

Iori found Miyako in front of his cram school that night in June, looking very standout with her purple strands and cherry-tinted lips. It was easy to be in the limelight when you wore makeup and shirts with striking colours among students with crumpled uniforms and weary faces after studying for the whole day.

“Iori-kuuun!”

Her high-pitched voice didn’t sound like a mature college woman, however.

Iori sighed, getting a second-hand embarrassment because everyone’s attention diverted to him after she echoed his name. He proceeded to walk out and approached her, asking the obvious, “Miyako-san, what are you doing here?”

“Meanie. Is that something appropriate to greet to your senpai?” Miyako pouted for a second before returning to her jolly mood. “I happen to be around so I figure I can ask you to accompany me for a dinner.”

He glanced at her feet and atop of her head, only to find something was missing. “Where is Hawkmon?”

“Oh, I told Hawkmon to fly to your house with some food from my konbini. Armadimon is home, ne?” she responded. “Come on, Iori-kun. It’s been a long time since we had fun just the two of us. Isn’t this a perfect time now that I’m going to leave next week and the others are too busy with their freshmen stuff?”

It was not a bad idea at all. He initially planned to grab a takeaway because his mother and grandfather were out of town, but now with Armadimon’s dinner settled, he didn’t have to worry about his partner starving alone.

He just didn’t know that Miyako also had her own plan of ordering a bottle of sake right when they just stepped inside the yatai tent.

Iori took a seat beside her, eyeing her ever so cautiously. He remembered the day Miyako turned twenty last May, and she decided to celebrate it by secretly grabbing a can of beer from her store. She posted its photo in their group chat, prompting joyous reactions from Mimi and Taichi, in addition to a jealous wail from Daisuke. Miyako then seemed to embark on her personal adulthood venture, trying different types of liquor ever since.

“…you do understand that I am still a minor, don’t you?” he said as he watched her pouring the sake into a cup.

“And why do you think that will stop me? It’s not like I’m asking you to drink along.”

“Just because I’m younger than you, that doesn’t mean I cannot tell you off.”

“Well, can you?”

He could, for real. He just chose not to.

Miyako then chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s because you’re with me that I have to drink more responsibly. What will people say if they see a high schooler carrying a drunk woman home?” She took her first shot and whooped right after her cup was empty. “Ahh, this is sooo good! You’re going to love this once you turn legal.”

“To be honest, I cannot see myself drinking even when I reach the right age.”

“Aw, what a shame. I look forward to coming back here and sharing sake with you.”

He pondered, sipping his ice tea. “Well, perhaps I can make an exception for you.”

“Right? I don’t think lawyers can survive without attending nomikai,” Miyako instigated as she snatched the first fresh-grilled yakitori from their plate. “Speaking of which, is that what you really want to aim for? Go to law school and become an attorney?”

“That’s the plan for now,” Iori also grabbed a negima but did not bite into it before he finished with his answer. “I know it’s hard to enter a law school, so that’s why I sign up for cram school as early as possible.”

“Yeah, but I just—” Miyako sighed. “I don’t want you to keep studying and let your youth pass without having fun. You’re only in high school once, so do something crazy. Skip a class, have some dates, go on a summer vacation with your friends….”

Iori paused, looking at his faint reflection on the glass.

“I am having fun,” he continued. “I have a great time battling monsters and saving the world. It makes me realise that I want to fight for the right thing and help people to get out of iniquity. And I believe becoming a lawyer is a good way to accomplish that.”

He was aware of how idealistic he sounded just then. If he was with other people, they would certainly be laughing at his words, telling him that the world was too cruel of a place for justice to prevail and he should just stick to a dream that was more within his proximity.

But he wasn’t with other people right now. He was with Miyako, who cracked a smile while looking at him with proud glimmering behind her spectacles.

“That’s just really you,” she said. “I know you’re a good kid the moment I laid my eyes on you. And I hope you know that I’m always rooting for you, no matter what. After all, I’m the big sis who just loves my reliable Iori-kun a bit too much!”

And that was when Iori couldn’t help but giggle. He was used to people calling him mature even when he was a little boy, but once he wore the high school uniform and felt a lump growing in his throat, it was still surreal for him how he really reached the age of adolescence. That was why he was glad to have Miyako around because she was a constant reminder of how he would still be someone’s little brother.

Her phone suddenly vibrated above the table, and as she picked up to see what was on the screen, Iori noticed her face getting a bit red. Somehow, he reckoned it wasn’t because of the sake, yet he didn’t want to pry further so he chose another topic. “How’s your departure preparation?”

“No hay problema! I’m leaving on Wednesday’s noon, though, so I guess you can’t set me off to the airport.”

“Ne, sorry for that.” It was rather unfortunate for him that Miyako chose to fly to Barcelona instead of using the Digital Gate for the sake of enjoying that wanderlust feeling. Iori started to consider whether this would be the right time to skip a class just like she advised just now. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Hmm. Just promise me to pick up when I video-call you,” she said before quickly adding, “oh, oh, I know! You can visit me during your summer break. Ask Ken and the others to join too!”

Just like that, he easily solved the puzzle. “Ichijouji-san?”

“Ah, yes! He’s helping me learn Spanish even though he’s busy with college,” Miyako responded, and Iori could hear her voice turn jovial at once. “He even texted me just now to check my progress. I think I should go meet him tomorrow.”

There was something stirring inside him that he tried to brush off by picking up another skewer. However, it was obvious he didn’t sound so thrilled when he blurted out, “Oh.”

And Miyako caught his reaction with pleasure. “I thought you no longer hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Are you jealous, then?”

“No.”

But boy, did he never stray too far from the truth.

After all, he was a little brother who just cared about his big sis a bit too much.

#digimon #digiweek2022 #by me #fic #ioyako #is that the name of this dynamic??#or is it miyaori??#iori hida #miyako inoue #constructive criticism is welcome since this is the first time i'm writing them #also i know that's a beer image not sake lmao #couldn't find a better pic #digimon adventure 02

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