#and yeah i probably won’t address it clearly

[not-neverland06]

Alone And Forsaken pt. 2

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: clearly I don’t do one shots, I tried, I failed. I can’t help it he’s just so fine (@woodland-mist you asked so, here you go)

WC: 5.6K

Part one

You weaved through the throng of people in the town square, hoping to get by unnoticed. Maria had told you where to find Tommy, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy, nothing with him ever really was. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Nope

You had one goal and it was not to meet and greet with all your neighbors. You ducked your head down, hiding yourself in the passing throng of people and evading them. It was a new couple that had just moved to Jackson a few days ago. 

You, of course, had protested anyone new coming in after the incident with Abby and her people. But because you and the brothers had been less than forthcoming with what happened and no one had any reason to listen to your doubts. 

They’d been moved into the big house across from you and Joel, because they needed the space. 

Because she was pregnant. 

In three months your life was going to get very loud and very miserable. 

The couple was too nice for your taste. You’d just barely gotten used to staying in Jackson for longer than two weeks, then Maria went ahead and shoved the two friendliest people you’d even met down your throat. 

Maybe you were too bitter. Maybe everyone was right, you should try and socialize, give people the benefit of the doubt before you write them off. 

“Do you see where she went, honey?”

Then again, maybe not. 

You rushed into the Tipsy Bison before they could spot you. You were sure they would tell Joel about this when they spotted him on the porch with his morning coffee. And you were sure he would give you hell for it, but you already have to deal with Tommy this morning. They can go bother someone else. 

You glanced around the bar, spotting some blonde hair in the back. When you rounded the tables you could see Tommy was busy haggling with Sam, trying to trade a shirt for some of his roast beef sandwiches. 

“I think I’m offering more than enough for some sandwiches, Sam.” Tommy, being the de facto leader after Maria, was trying to maintain a semblance of diplomacy. 

Sam was a stubborn jackass and you knew if you didn’t do something this would take all day. You walked up and nodded a greeting to Tommy before glaring at Sam. “Give him the sandwiches.”

Sam glared at you, trying his damndest to look down his nose at you. “Mind your fucking business.”

Tommy straightened up, a frown on his face. Neither he nor his brother had ever been good at losing the whole Texan chivalry thing. They didn’t do well when someone disrespected a ‘lady’ in front of them. “I think you need to watch your tone, Sam.”

You held up a hand towards Tommy, stopping him from getting too riled up. You already had a less than respectable reputation in Jackson, didn’t need to drag him down with you. “Give him the sandwiches, and we won’t need to get Joel involved.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth, he glanced between you and Tommy, like he was trying to call your bluff. You couldn’t really help yourself as your hand drifted down to land on your holster, your fingers idly drumming against the leather. Finally he huffed, mumbled something prickish under his breath and shoved the sandwiches into Tommy’s hands, snatching the shirt. You watched until he retreated into the kitchen to address Tommy. 

“You probably coulda kept the shirt.”

Tommy shrugged, tucking the food in his pack. “Yeah, but we do things a certain way here. Can’t just go flashing your pistol at people.”

You scoffed, “Didn’t flash my pistol, I used your brother.”

Tommy chuckled and nodded his head towards the bar’s exit. You followed him outside, looking around to make sure the coast was clear of your neighbors. When you turned back to face him he was giving you an odd look. “What’re you so jumpy for?”

You sighed, “Your wife decided to move Mr. and Mrs. Rogers next to me and Joel.”

Tommy smiled and laughed, most definitely at your expense. “You mean Ann and James,” you nodded, ushering him along the sidewalk in case they popped up again. “They’re nice people, I think she’s just trying to get you to branch out.”

“Don’t need to,” you grunted out. Though, hunching over, hiding from anyone who wants to talk to you, you weren’t sure you were making a great case for yourself. You straightened up and glared at him, “‘Sides, I didn’t come out to chat about my new neighbors. I want to talk about the Harvest Festival and my ‘date.’” You couldn’t keep the disdain out of your voice if you tried, which you weren’t.

“Bob,” Tommy offered. You rolled your eyes and nodded. “What about it?”

“I’m not going.”

Tommy crossed his arms and smirked. “Says who?”

“Me,” you weren’t sure what he wanted from you. 

“And why not?”

Oh. Oh. That stupid smug little look was back on his face. How in the hell does he know? “I think you know why.”

He shook his head, “Nope, don’t think I do.”

He was really making you do this? “I can’t go because of Joel.”

“What’s my brother got to do with this?”

You opened your mouth, some argument at the tip of your tongue, but it was lost to you the second you tried to speak it into existence. Why couldn’t you go?

You broke apart from Joel slowly, neither of you in any sort of rush to end this. Idly, and without much thought behind it, your fingers traced the shape of his lips. You didn’t realize you were smiling until you saw the same soft expression mirrored on his face. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” his voice was quiet, as if he spoke any louder the trance would be broken. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while,” your smile grew when the hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. He pulled you closer and you got comfortable in his lap, your hands moving down to play with the fabric of his shirt. 

He didn’t seem to mind the subtle exploration, his own hands mimicking yours. Now that you finally had the chance, neither of you seemed able to stop touching each other. You weren’t sure where to go from here. 

You hadn’t realized how desperately you had wanted this, wanted him, until you had him. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking or complicating something simple. Still, is everything going to change now?

Did that kiss mean as much to him as it meant to you? 

What did this mean-

“Hey,” you startled slightly, jolted out of your thoughts by the heavy weight of Joel’s hand on your cheek. “I can see that brain going. I can practically hear the rust flaking off the gears in your head.”

You scoffed and smacked at his chest, “Shut up.” But he was right, it was far too easy for you to get lost in your own head. Especially concerning him. You were grateful for the way he could anchor you in the present, drag you back out of a trap of your own making. 

Joel stood, his arms wrapping around you and dragging you along with him. You could hear his bones popping, you wanted to protest, tell him to just let you walk, but you knew he wouldn’t listen. He had that determined look on his face, the one that meant he was ignoring how old and worn out his back and knees were. 

Besides, you liked how strong he was. Relished in these little displays of strength, even if it was something as simple as carrying you to bed. You knew you needed to talk, you needed some sort of verbal confirmation that this was more than just two lonely souls looking for company.

But Joel just dropped you on the mattress, grumbled about getting your stuff from the guest room, and left. You changed out of your clothes, brushed your teeth, and waited for him to come back. When he did, he had changed too, he dumped a pile of blankets on the bed and got in beside you. 

He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you into his side. You looked down at where he was holding you, lacing your fingers together, and let yourself fall asleep. You two didn’t say anything else, you just reveled in each other's warmth, let the comfort you provided lull you both into an easy sleep. And when you woke up in the morning, he had breakfast ready for you, but he didn’t say anything about the night before. 

In fact, for the next week, there was no mention of you two kissing or what his vague, half-confession meant. Sure, now he greeted you with a kiss each morning and night, but other than that nothing had changed about how you two operated. 

You didn’t have anything to appease Tommy with as he looked at you expectantly. No, nothing had majorly changed between you and Joel and you hadn’t had a real discussion about anything. But, you didn’t really need one, you knew what you meant to each other. And you knew how hard it is for people like you and Joel to have those discussions. 

Emotions, romance, love were all such distant concepts, it felt so foreign to you. If you tried to date, or speak into existence how much weight he held in your life you know inevitably it would just end up complicating and ruining things. 

You were together, alive and not some mindless fungi outside Jackson, the rest was inconsequential. 

You just said, “Cancel it, I’m going with Joel,” and walked off before you had to be subjected to more of his smug face. 

You made your way back through town, the morning rush having calmed down now that everyone had gotten their supplies or found their assignments for the week. You were thankful not to spot any nosy neighbors as you made your way back, that was the last thing you needed after having to deal with Tommy’s questions. 

Neither you or Joel were really big fans of talking about your emotions, hell you’d have punched someone out back in the QZ just for telling you to look for the light. Gooey stuff was practically a foreign language to you now. 

You could function based on actions; setting out his coffee in the morning or a new book appearing on your nightstand when he’d gotten back from patrolling. It was all you needed to understand what you were to each other.  

You trudged up the stairs to the porch, Joel was sitting in his favorite rocking chair, a mug resting on his knee. His supply was running low, you were gonna have to find someone to trade with again. You had been keeping an eye out on your patrols, trying to see if you could find any beans. 

You weren’t really sure how coffee plants worked, if you planted the beans whether they would even grow or not. But it was worth a shot. 

“How’d it go?”

You let out a long sigh and threw yourself down on the chair next to him. It creaked under your weight but held up against the strain of its old age. You rocked back and forth, plucking at a string on your jeans. “Fine.”

He snorted slightly as he took another sip of his coffee. “Looks like it. Oh, Jason and Anna stopped by.”

It was your turn to laugh, you smirked at him, propping your head in your hand. “You mean Ann and James?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yeah, them.”

“You’re losing it, old man.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, they were concerned about your hearing. Said they must’ve called your name ten times and you didn’t hear them.” There was a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you, like he knew it was complete bullshit. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Please.” You sat up and leaned forward, irritation forcing you upright, “If I have to listen to her complain about how tender her breasts are again, I’ll shoot myself.”

Joel grimaced, giving you a disgusted look as he put his mug down. “These people know what T-M-I is?” He put too much emphasis on each letter and you couldn’t help yourself as you laughed. It was always funny to hear him get an attitude with that gruff Texan accent, he ended up sounding like a poor attempt at valley girl. He swatted your knee, trying to get you to stop making fun of him. 

“Tommy, come on, what’d he say?”

You shrugged, looking down and away from him, going back to playing with the loose thread of your jeans. “I don’t know, he was asking all these questions.”

Joel was quick to ask, “What questions?”

You rested your head on the back of the rocking chair, “Why I didn't want to go on the date.”

“What’d you say?”

Jesus, he was barely taking a breath. “I said,” you paused and looked at him, not really surprised to already find him looking at you. His gaze wasn’t as intense as you were expecting, more eager? You weren’t sure Joel got eager. “I said I couldn’t go with what’s-his-face to the festival because of you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, leaning back in his rocking chair, a strange sort of male pride clear on his face. “How come?”

You scoffed, glaring at him from where you sat. The hell was he getting at? “Why do you think, genius? Why would I go out with someone when I’ve got you?”

“You got me?”

You paused, irritation draining from your body as you stared at him. His face wasn’t giving anything away, he wasn’t closed off, just staring at you expectantly. “Don’t I?” You hated the way your voice went quiet, you wished it had been more confident, teasing, like you knew the answer and were screwing with him. You sounded too vulnerable. 

Joel let you squirm for a minute, you’re pretty sure he thought it was funny. Finally he sighed and leaned forward, his hand landing on your thigh and you could feel the warmth of it through your jeans. You hadn’t realized how cold you’d gotten until he was this close, walking furnace that he was. 

“Yeah, you do.”  You tried not to let the relief show, though you’re sure it did if his little smirk was anything to go by. He squeezed your thigh once before he stood up to go back inside. 

“Oh,” you suddenly remembered the last bit of your conversation with Tommy. “And I told him you were taking me to the harvest,” you called over your shoulder. It was your turn to screw with him, and if the way his shoulders tensed up as he paused in the doorway was anything to go by, he was just as excited as you about that ridiculous festival. 

“When’s your next patrol?”

Joel had found you an old mystery book on his last run, the same one you were reading now. You marked the page and put it down on the nightstand as he got into bed next to you. “Not sure, I think thursday. Why?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the pillows and gazing at you. “I was thinking I could go with you. We could go exploring that old art museum Maria told me was a couple miles out.” He reached out, tucking some hair behind your ear and you tried not to lean too much into him.

You smiled, almost accepting when you realized what he was doing and the smile dropped. You huffed out a breath and rolled your eyes. “Nice try, Joel, we’re going to the harvest festival.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, “Got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He shook his head, oh-so-innocent. You scoffed, “You’re so full of it. If I went with you, we’d miss the harvest festival. And who would have to listen to Tommy’s bitching? Me.”

“He’s my brother.”

“Then you deal with him!” You picked your book back up, deciding on ignoring him for the rest of the night. You should have known he would try and weasel his way out of this.

Honestly, once you’d decided you were going with Joel, the festival didn’t seem that awful or daunting. You’re a little hurt he wants to get out of it so badly. You weren’t that bad of company. 

“You ignorin’ me now?”

You shrugged, flipping through the book, not really absorbing anything. You’d have to reread this chapter tomorrow. 

A big hand found itself in front of your face, blocking you from reading anything more. Joel dog-eared the page, something you loudly protested to, and threw the book on his nightstand. “Joel, you know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you rolled your eyes at his little smirk. “But you’re talkin’ to me.”

“Child. You’re a child.”

He leaned over you and shut your lamp off, ignoring your snippy still usin’ that. He settled down in bed and patted the spot next to him. You hesitated, only for a moment, debating whether you wanted to give him more of a hard time or just give in. 

It wasn’t a hard choice. 

You settled down beside him, your head falling on his chest and his arm naturally wound itself around your back. You tried to ignore the way your legs fit together, how you felt like a complete puzzle when you laid down beside him, the two of you fitting together perfectly. You tried even harder to ignore the way the thought made your heart race, but it was nearly impossible. 

Sometimes you resented Joel a little bit. Resented him for the way you lost control of yourself and your emotions when you were around him. Resented all the power he held over you and how unaware of it he seemed to be. 

“I really don’t want to go.”

You scoffed, your fingers tracing the design on the worn out t-shirt he was wearing. “You think I do?”

“Then let’s just skip it.”

“Joel, I already said-”

“We used to be able to just do whatever we wanted.” You paused as he interrupted you, closing your mouth and tilting your head up so you could look at him. “We went where we wanted, when we wanted. There weren't all these bullshit obligations like patrol, or making sure our shifts match up.”

You were silent, taking in what he was saying. It wasn’t hard to miss the resent lingering in his tone, or the way he spoke fondly of your past. Before you had responsibilities. But you must have been quiet for too long because he reached over and turned his lamp off, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

You stayed awake a while longer, just thinking about what he said. He was starting to sound like you, the same frustration and anger at being expected to provide for others. You were at everyone’s beck and call here. People viewed you as do-ers. Someone needed something done, you were the one to do it, and there was no arguing either, because everyone worked together here. 

The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue as you went to sleep.

“Come on, hurry up!”

Ellie was sitting on the couch, she ran the towel in her hand over her hair roughly. You stood behind the chair, scissors in your hand as Joel trudged down the stairs. You wrapped a towel around his shoulders to keep his wet hair from dripping on his shirt. 

Years ago, a time that feels nearly as distant as 2003, it was Tess who would cut yours and Joel’s hair. You’d sit down in the crappy apartment you had in the QZ and she’d use some blunted ass scissors to saw off your hair. 

Neither you nor Joel should have been trusted with any scissors, but when Tess was gone and you were on the road for too long Ellie and Joel would start bitching about their hair. Neither of them liked how it would touch their neck. 

Luckily while you were still learning there were no mirrors. They couldn’t see how horribly you had done. They would always run their hands through their hair and frown, like they knew something was wrong, but they just couldn’t prove it. 

The only thing you had to worry about for a while was just not busting out laughing every time you saw the bangs you accidentally gave them. 

Thankfully, by the time you reached Jackson you’d gotten good enough at it that they would still come and badger you for a haircut. They’d never had a chance to see just how horribly you had done in the beginning. 

“Oh, Jesse wanted me to ask you if you’d do his hair soon?”

You gave Ellie a noncommittal hum, running your fingers through Joel’s hair. “I like it long.”

“Cut it.” He didn’t exactly leave any room for arguments, he even crossed his arms, like you were actually going to pester him about it. You weren’t, but you were leaving some length, it’s not like he could cut it himself. 

He tilted his head slightly towards Ellie, “What’s Jesse want with her?”

You pushed his head back in place and started snipping. “What do you think he wants?” Ellie snorted, she got off the couch, probably already bored of sitting there. She went over to the mirror on the wall, running her hands through her hair and grinning. 

“Isn’t he with Dina?” You weren’t proud of it, but you might have picked up some information about people around town. Would you say gossiping? No. Would others? Probably. 

“Not anymore, they broke up a while ago.” Ellie turned around, hands on her hips as she stared at you. 

You momentarily paused in cutting Joel’s hair, ignoring his disgruntled complaint. “Am I missing something?”

Joel turned to face her as well, matching confused expressions on both your faces. “Yeah,” Ellie paused, like she was waiting for the two of you to connect the dots. You glanced down at Joel but he just shrugged. 

He tried, “I thought Jesse and Ellie were dating.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved Joel’s head forward, going back to the haircut. 

“God! You guys, me and Dina are dating, we’ve been dating for like three months.”

”I thought you were friends,” Joel offered unhelpfully. 

“Clearly not,” Ellie sniped back. “You guys seriously didn’t know?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know what you kids get up to.” Ellie sighed and sat back down on the couch seemingly disheartened by your underwhelming reaction. “At least you can’t get her pregnant.”

Ellie sucked in a breath, “Right.”

Joel swatted your hands away from his hair, he better pray that doesn’t screw you up. “Ellie, what was that?”

“What?”

“That noise you just made.”

“Joel,” you interrupted, forcing his head back in place, “stop moving, dammit.”

“Dina’s pregnant,” Ellie rushed the sentence out in one, jumbled breath. 

You watched as Joel’s shoulders tensed and then slumped in front of you. “How’d you even get her pregnant?”

“What’re you doing?”

Joel closed the patrol log and shook his head, “Nothing, come on.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in suspicion as you watched him walk off. He had spent way too long by the log book for him to have just been writing - Couple runners, took ‘em out -J

You wanted to open it up and look but he was watching you from the entrance of the garage. You shoved aside your curiosity and followed him out to the horses. He grabbed the reins of his horse, “Come on, Sunny.” He shook his head and scoffed as he mounted her, “Still think their names are ridiculous.”

“Sunny and Cher,” you pet the black mane of your own mare and huffed out a laugh. “How’s Ellie even know who they are?”

“I don’t know, must’ve heard it from someone ‘cause she don’t even spell Sunny’s name right.”

“And she’s a girl.”

He laughed, “And she’s a girl.” 

He led you both outside into the sunny woods. Snow’s completely melted now, you weren’t sure how Maria and Tommy managed to time their ‘Harvest Festival’ so perfectly but it was a good time to celebrate the incoming warm weather. 

“So,” you nudged Cher forward to walk alongside him. “Where are we going?” Joel shrugged but didn’t provide you any answers. “Clearly not Jackson,” you were going the opposite direction of the town. 

You glanced at the back of Sunny, the bags he had tied to her saddle, each of them far too stuffed for a simple patrol. “You kidnapping me?”

“Maybe.”

You sighed, rolling your head back and taking in the greenery of the woods. You were definitely eager for winter to be over. Something about the cold weather makes the infected go fucking insane. They're faster, meaner, and just over all bigger pains in the ass. Not to mention the fact that they travel in huge fucking hordes. 

Tommy always tries to pretend he knows about them, something about the barometric pressure making them migrate but you know he’s just full of it. You watched a pair of hare’s dart in front of you and Joel and took in a deep breath. 

God, you’d forgotten how nice it was to be outside without the sound of people around you. There was the sound of the horses' hooves squishing lightly over wet grass, the wind moving the leaves above you, and the distant sound of birds singing. But no voices, or kids, or people demanding favors.

You’d missed this, with Joel specifically. It’d been a while since you had this type of quiet with him. So, you didn’t push him too much about where he was taking you, just followed him down the path. 

You were fine not bugging him while you were on a lovely jaunt through a pretty forest. But it’s been an hour and you can’t feel extremities that really need blood flow. “Joel,” you tried to remain friendly but your tone was strained as you shifted on your saddle for the nth time. 

“Yeah?” He grunted out. 

“How much longer?”

“Not much longer.” He turned around and frowned at you, “Have some patience.”

You tugged on Cher’s reins, forcing her to stop while you glared at Joel’s back. “Patience? Joel, we’ve been out here since six. I’ve had a lot of fucking patience. But that ran out about three miles ago, right when I stopped being able to feel my a-”

“We’re here.”

Of course you were. 

Joel got off Sunny and offered you a hand down. You took it eagerly, more than happy to finally stretch your legs out. You were a bit surprised when he kept your hands locked together, he wasn’t normally one for touchy shows of affection. 

Not that you were complaining, you were more than happy to revel in the comforting feeling of his hands in yours. Though, his were definitely rougher than your own, you weren’t without your own callouses, but he’d had years of carpentry and being a contractor under his belt before the apocalypse. 

He’d paused in a field, the grass here was up to your waist which made it difficult to see where you were stepping and what you were stepping on. You kept close to Joel, the horses trailing behind you both as he led you through the field. 

It took a moment for you to realize you’d never been out here. You’d only been vaguely paying attention to the direction you went while you were on the horses, trusting Joel to know the way. But this was definitely unrecognizable, which was strange, you thought you’d found everything when you went exploring on your own. 

Out in the distance you could see a vague shape forming, some brown structure that you couldn’t really make out as the grass was getting taller. It only took a few feet to finally figure out what was looming over you. 

A fence. 

Fun.

You said as much to Joel, probably in the most sarcastic tone you could muster. He rolled his eyes and kneeled down. You couldn’t help but admire his arms as he dug his fingers into a rotten plank of wood and pulled. He managed to make a hole large enough for you to crawl through and motioned towards it. 

“Well, go on, smartass.”

You huffed, getting down on your hands and knees and squeezing your way through. You didn’t bother seeing what was in front of you, turning around so you could keep the way through open for him. The wood dug into your palm, splinters burying themselves in your skin. 

God, this better be worth it. 

He groaned as he straightened up, pulling you to your feet and stretching his back out. “Alright. Ready?”

”Yep,” you rolled your eyes as he walked in front of you. What could have been so amazing he had dragged you out here?

A house. 

Well, it was a nice house, better taken care of than you’d seen out here. Looked like an old farmhouse, two stories, and a wraparound porch. Something you would have loved a long time ago. Surrounding it was a tall fence, it went out pretty far, there was room enough for a large garden and then some. There were bits where the wood had rotted or had holes in it that looked like someone had broken through. But the grass was trimmed, a normal height instead of tickling the ends of your hair. 

Overall, nice, but you had no clue what Joel was doing out here. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

Joel scoffed, he crossed his arms and stared at you, “Just nice?”

You laughed and walked up the stairs of the porch. It was cleaner than you thought it would be, no signs of aging on the wooden boards. “It’s a nice house, Joel. I just don’t get why we’re here.”

He sighed and walked up to you, you took in a deep, centering, breath when he placed one hand on your waist. He moved you slightly out of the way as he leaned in, opening the door up behind you. “We’re here ‘cause this is ours,” admittedly your eyes were on his lips and your focus was how close he was to you. 

It took you a second to actually process what he had said. You blinked and your eyes shot back up to his, “What?”

He nudged you inside and you stumbled over your feet as you went. The interior was even nicer than the outside. There wasn’t a spec of dust or decay, it was like time hadn’t had a chance to touch it. There was a couch, bookshelves, even an old record player. 

“Joel, what the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed and threw his backpack down on the ground. He walked over and took yours off your shoulders, nudging you to take a seat on the couch. “Been working on this for months.” He smiled a little, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes crinkling with the movement.

You were still a little confused, eyes darting around the living room as you sat there with a dumb look on your face. “Look, Jackson was nice for a while.”

You tuned in enough to grunt in opposition. Joel chuckled, “Alright, fine, it was never my favorite. I was out here one day, looking for you,” he added with a light nudge to your knee. “Found this place.”

“And… What? Decided to test out Jesus’s favorite pastime?”

“I was a contractor before the world went to shit. Like riding a bike, it just comes back to you.”

“I just don’t understand. Why? Why put in the time and effort and materials?”

He scoffed, “Why do you think?” When you didn’t answer he rolled his eyes. “We always talk about disappearin’ and I thought this would be a nice place to do it. There’s already a perimeter up, just have to make some more repairs. Worked something out with Tommy, it’s close enough to Jackson that we got some power from the dam,” he stood up now pacing around the living room a little as he talked to you. 

You slowly became aware of the stupid grin growing on your face. The warmth that was spreading through your cheeks and stomach as you realized he’d done this, fixed up this old house for months in secret for you. 

That explained why he’d been complaining about his back so much lately. 

You stood up, cutting him off from his tangent about how you were still close enough to Jackson for supplies and to see Tommy and Elllie. You fisted your hands in the flannel he was wearing and tugged him down. “Joel.”

He smiled at you as his hands landed on your waist, squeezing a little. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He pulled you in and grinned, “Not once.”

This kiss felt different than all the rest. Felt like something more final, like you both knew you’d reached the end and there was nowhere left to go. You’d explored all you could, fought your way here, and now you stood in this old house. The one he had fixed up and you knew you didn’t need to fight anymore. 

You just needed this, him in this moment. 

“Ellie?”

Ellie turned around at the sound of Dina’s voice. “Yeah?”

She nodded her head towards the patrol logbook, there was a strange smile on her face. “Might want to take a look at this.”

Ellie walked over, shooting Dina a confused glance before she took a look and let out a laugh.

We aren’t gone, but we’re disappearing for a while. You won’t find us, don’t come looking (I mean it Tommy) - J

end. — I do not own the characters or the game The Last Of Us, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan

#Joel miller x reader #tlou x reader #game!joel x reader #joel miller #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. pokemon au, inspired by @/strawberrystepmom. fem!reader and izuku are both children.

“Ah!!!!!”

A girl’s piercing scream turns a couple heads further down and up the walking path, but you, the screaming girl, are clearly fine, just startled. You’ve toppled over and are now collapsed on the ground, and now comfortable in your lap is a Chikorita looking at you lovingly, its leaf blade jolting side by side like a wagging tail.

Out of the same small patch of forest your gentle assailant emerged from comes a little boy about your age, with messy green curls and green eyes reminiscent but darker in shade than the Chikorita, and he looks distressed for a split second as he searches, but once his eyes fall on you there’s a moment of surprise and then relief.

“Sorry! She won’t hurt you!”

You’re almost the same color as the Chikorita by now and stiff, the petrified look on your face making your vice clear - you are afraid of most Pokémon, making the world you live in difficult to navigate.

The boy notices you’re not answering him, and comes over, gently chiding his Chikorita to get off of you and jump into his arms. You let yourself breathe again and cradling the Chikorita carefully still so that it can’t attack you with affection again (its wide eyes continue to stare at you curiously), he addresses you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he extends an arm to you as you try to get up, but you don’t want him to let his Chikorita go. Embarrassed, you rise up quickly and look away as you pat the dust off your clothes.

“Yeah!! i’m fine, I was just surprised, that’s all,” you stammer, making your way to leave, but once you’ve turned your back, the kind-looking boy is still speaking to you instead of taking the cue.

“Chichi gets really excited when she meets new people, especially if she thinks they’re nice,” he adds.

You ponder on the word ‘nice’. Aren’t most people nice? Plus you weren’t really being nice to ‘Chichi’ or any of the other Pokémon you passed today, imagining them biting you or using their skills if you moved too quickly.

You nod, but he’s still talking. Even though you’re only ten, you’ve figured that the more Pokémon people have, the more willing they are to talk to strangers, especially strangers their own age. This boy, judging from his backpack and the round object bulging his pocket is probably a new Trainer on a journey. You’ll have nothing in common.

“Do you have any Pokémon?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Here we go, you think in your head. When you say no, he’ll ask you why not, then look at you funny when you say they scare you; if you lie and say yes, he’ll ask to battle.

So the obvious solution, instead of answering, is to start off running, which you do promptly.

The only unforeseen issue is that he starts running too.

“Hey did i make you mad? I’m sorry!! Wait up!” he calls after you. You look back at him in confusion because why is he chasing a stranger, only narrowly missing an old lady who gives you a dirty look as you half-yell, half-whisper an apology, dodging past her and weaving through the other folks on this trail. Just when you’re out of breath and you think you’ve lost him, you give yourself a couple minutes to recover. Your mom will probably wonder where you are since you left your books open on the living room floor before running out suddenly for fresh air, anyway.

The boy shows up again, Chikorita still in his arms, but he’s panting, red-faced and confused.

“Why are you running from me?”

You are aghast.

“Why are you following me?” you ask back. He blinks for a moment, as though you’ve asked a question he didn’t expect in the realm of inquiry for this particular situation.

“Chichi likes you,” he finally replies. You tilt your head.

“So?” You don’t mean to sound mean, but this boy’s freckled and cheerful face is starting to annoy you. He pouts then and you feel bad.

“When Chichi likes people, it means I should like them too,” he says. He hugs her close as she squirms out as though she wants to play with you again. You take an involuntary step back.

“I promise she won’t hurt you,” he insists. “but I won’t let her jump at you if you’re scared-“

“I’m not scared,” you reply quickly, but your heart is pounding. The boy nods, agreeing with you.

“You’re not scared,” he repeats. Now it feels like he’s making fun of you. You change the subject, realizing running won’t work so appeasing him enough that he leaves satisfied might.

“i’m ___, what’s your name?”

His eyes light up at the show of interest

“Izuku! And some of my friends call me Deku, and I’ve been on the road to be the best Pokemon trainer for exactly 53 hours now and I’ve had chichi since i was eight and…” he trails off, then adds, “Sorry did I talk too much?”

He technically did, but you’ve never been one to ever really want someone to stop talking when they're excited about something. You shake your head.

“You’ve had Chichi since you were eight?” you ask. You look at her again and she appears to have given up on you, now nuzzling gently against her trainer, eyes slightly lowered.

“Yes, I ran into Chichi when I got lost in the forest outside my house a little while back, and Chichi helped me get out and also Chichi is really good at finding new friends for me.”

“Maybe Chichi is just really friendly,” you say. You don’t know why you’re still talking to Izuku but he’s earnest enough the last thing you want to do is make him sad by leaving.

“She doesn’t like everyone, and I haven’t seen her like someone as much as you,” he points out. You’re skeptical but he adds, “can we be friends?”

It’s so direct it surprises you.

“Please?”

You hesitate and he rummages through his bag quickly, then pulls out a Pokeball.

“I’ll even give you one of my first catches.”

He opens it and you jump back but it’s a fish, flopping worthlessly on the ground. You and he both look at it dumbfounded and even Chichi looks at him.

“A Magikarp?” you ask, eyebrows raised.

He blushes a deep red, then quickly recalls it. “Not this one, I-I got mixed up.”

He rummages a little again, murmuring something in embarrassment under his breath and from another Pokeball comes a little foxlike creature.

“This is an Eevee. She was hard to catch but she’s really nice.”

The Eevee looks up at you and you frown but as you freeze in place it approaches you slowly and stand right before you waiting for you to react. Chichi makes a sound of excitement and tries to jump out again and Izuku chides it sweetly.

“No, she’ll run away again.”

You take your eyes off the Eevee for just a moment to look at him and the Eevee takes that as an opportunity to rub against your legs. you feel a jolt of electricity go through you, but the Eevee continues to purr and you can’t imagine it ever hurting you.

“See, she likes you!”

Izuku seems delighted, approaching now. You look at him helplessly, and he’s smiling wide.

“I think you have a natural affinity for Pokémon,” he praises, and your cheeks warm. your mother always told you Pokémon trainers deluded themselves and the boy grinning at you, unable to control his excitement, seems to be the type to be easily deluded, but your hand is reaching for the Eevee’s fur now for the very first time.

And just a few moments later, both of you are petting it, and Chichi is sitting in your lap.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at 10 if you wanna talk again?” Izuku asks. “There are some Pokémon i wanna catch in the forest. Do you wanna watch?”

You can think of ten things you should probably do instead, but Chichi is looking at you so hopefully as you say, “yes.”

“Really?!” Izuku’s eyes grow wide and he jumps up, so filled with energy he does a cartwheel, and that makes you giggle. You glance at Eevee again, and think, perhaps you should come up with a name.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimidoriya #mimi writes: pokemon au #mimi's notes

[lavendertales]

Sweet lies: Chapter 9**

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: you have to face a full afternoon with Mia, Emily and, more surprisingly, Andrea, but it turns out to be an enlightening time. Meanwhile, you and Frankie start to need more from each other.

word count: 6k

WARNINGS: face sitting, handjob, cowgirl (unsafe)

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: huge thank you to @cheshire-noir​ for beta reading this mess, ily. Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

gif: @trashcora​ 

series masterlist | AO3

If there was an award for ignorance, you’d be certain to win first prize.

Within the next three weeks, you have avoided Frankie like the plague. And it worked; the more you ignored, the better you felt. You needed time to process everything and to reach to a realistic conclusion, and having wandering hands with a man who was more or less still committed to another woman wasn’t the way to go.

But, with you being you and carrying some sort of karmic debt towards the universe which clearly has beef with you, the call you receive on a slightly warmer Friday evening in March takes you aback.

“Hey, are you free tomorrow?” Andrea’s surprisingly excited voice asks.

“I think so. Why?”

“Emily and Mia are coming over for dinner and drinks. You know, a girl’s night in. Wanna join us?”

The invitation leaves you dumbfounded.

“You still with me?” she asks.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Overthinking.”

“Been there.”

You both giggle, albeit the huge gap in your stomach.

“So what do you say? Are you in?”

Andrea probably needs friendly shoulders for support, and as far as she’s concerned, you are a potential friend to her. But the invitation might turn out to be something even better: an opportunity. This could be your chance to come clean to her, explain it all and hope you won’t be found murdered the next day.

“I’m in,” you smile.

“Great!”

“Do you need me to bring anything?”

“I got everything we could need, but if you feel like bringing wine or anything, no problem at all. I’m sure we’ll find great use for it.”

You giggle. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Great. I’ll see you ladies tomorrow.”

When you hang up, you already know the kind of wine you’ll bring with you. You need something with a big percentage of alcohol. If this would be pre-drinking before a rave, you’d just be bringing a bottle of vodka to take the edge off of everyone, but given that Andrea will probably be cooking, things are likely to be a little classier than what’s going on inside your head.

Another night of restless sleep awaits you, and you can’t do much of anything the next day. After all, you are about to have dinner with the woman whose man you’ve slept with twice, and have been in love with for a decade. It’s not an easy conversation to have, but it needs to be had. And afterwards, no matter the outcome, you will talk to Frankie as well. The mess you’ve created has to be cleaned up.

You stare at the address Andrea texted you last night, realizing it’s not far from your own apartment. Five blocks away. So you decide to just walk, take advantage of the brisk air that surrounds you in the early spring. You carry with you a bottle of red wine, an expensive one, in hopes of this being a way to loosen up everyone before you have your big talk with Andrea.

You think of her in ways you normally wouldn’t. You wonder how often she’s cried herself to sleep since the break from Frankie. You wonder how often she tried calling or texting him, or thought about him in general—particularly alone at night. And you wonder what exactly prompted her to suggest the break in the first place.

Has she done something similar? Is she feeling guilty about it and needs a time-out to think about everything?

Either way, you want to find out something tonight. Anything that might ease your conscience, really.

You ring the doorbell, smelling food already. The apartment building is very nice and modest, as you fleetingly notice, standing outside the door. Then, you’re met with Andrea’s benevolent and rather radiant face.

“Hi, come on in!”

She’s wearing an apron over jeans and a blouse, and you sneak a gaze at her once you enter the apartment. She’s got no makeup on, and she looks stunning still. But there also seems to be a certain sadness in her eyes. You only know that because you see it in your eyes, too.

Mia and Emily are already there, nursing their glasses of white wine, but they get up to hug you.

“I brought some apple pie and red wine,” you say, exposing them from the bag over your shoulder.

“Mhmmm, yum,” Emily coos, taking a whiff.

“Thank you so much! You can put them on the counter.”

You do as you’re told while the girls inspect your gifts. “Whoa! This is an expensive bottle of wine!” Mia exclaims.

“Seems like a good night to open it,” you smile.

“Tell you what, if this thing with Will doesn’t work, I might call you up because you sure know how to treat a girl right.”

You raise your eyebrows, then chuckle, the sound reverberating across the place. It’s pretty spacious and modest; you walk towards Andrea, willing to make yourself useful, all while Mia pours you a glass of white wine.

“Anything I can do?” you ask Andrea.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done. Thank you.”

“Homemade lasagna and wine? You’re a treat.”

“Barely here for a few minutes and there’s already too many flirtatious comments. Save it for your partners, ladies,” Andrea teases.

“The guys aren’t here tonight.”

“Amen to that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes they can be a bit too—“

“Testosterone-y?”

All three girls turn to look at you with an amused face.

“How on earth did you and Rose survive them?” Emily asks. “In high school, no less.”

“Well, we ignored them a lot. Then again, Benny was the one with a lot of flirtatious comments to make, so we mostly ignored him.”

Emily chuckles. “Figures.”

“They talked a big game, but they were innocent. When it came to doing anything, they were wusses.”

“Figures,” Mia giggles in her wine glass.

You take a sip of your wine as well, allowing it to travel through your stomach, veins and body, warming up your extremities.

“I really like the place, by the way,” you say cautiously. “Is it a rental?”

“It’s my cousin’s place, actually. She’s letting me stay here until things pick up. Hopefully. She’s away for the weekend, which I figured is the perfect opportunity for some girl talk.”

“Speaking of which, what’s going on between you and Frankie?” Emily intervenes. “Any updates?”

Andrea inhales, the question weighing heavily on her. You can tell she’s at a crossroads of some sort, though you are uncertain as to what it is about.

“Not really,” she finally answers with a big sigh.

Seeing her struggle, half there and half not, you go to her side and pick up the plates and utensils, smile, and start laying them on the dinner table.

“We haven’t spoken since we took the break,” she admits. “It was better this way, but I think now… I miss him.”

“Of course you do! God, I’d go crazy if Will and I were ever in this situation,” Mia says. “It’s only natural when you love someone this much.”

Andrea remains silent, and you notice that immediately. You don’t make much of it, but you do take notice. It might not be anything, while it may be something. Or maybe it’s just your mind, desperately clinging onto any hope that this messy situation will resolve itself without real intervention.

Frankie might’ve been a coward all those years ago, but you are one now too.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about this tonight,” you intervene. “It’s a girl’s night. We’re here to have amazing food, curtesy of Andrea, drink wine and laugh.”

“She’s absolutely right. No boy talk tonight,” Andrea smiles in agreement.

“Maybe some boy talk,” Mia grins devilishly.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm. Let’s see, how about… what’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

The other girls, including you, make a face, although visibly intrigued by the premise.

“No preparation, just straight to it, huh? Not sure we should disclose such sensitive information though,” you say.

“Come on! It’s good fun.”

“You forget I don’t have any experience with any of the guys.”

Mia frowns. “Really? So you and Santi never—?”

You roll your eyes, taking another sip of your wine. “First of all, I am too sober for this conversation, and second of all, no, we never went that far.”

“I would’ve at least fooled around a bit,” Mia shrugs. “Lord knows that’s one of my very first experiences with Will.”

“Okay, but you have to have a best sex story.”

“What if I don’t?”

The statement makes all the girls stare at you momentarily, the silence installing itself in between the four of you.

“Wait, you’ve never—are you—?” Mia dares ask, realizing she might’ve overstepped her boundaries. “If you are, it’s totally cool.”

“No, no. It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever had that kind of uh… mind-blowing sex you keep replaying when you’re in a dry spell and stuff.”

You gulp, hoping there is no transparency about yourself as you make that claim. For safety measures, you avoid eye contact with Andrea in the meantime.

“Never?” Emily checks, blushing herself.

“I’m guessing if I were to ask either of you…”

“Yeah, gonna have to go with Benny. The man’s a wild card in the sack.”

You purse your lips together, hoping all of this information will be erased by tomorrow.

“Will might be stoic and all, but let me tell you—“

“In as little detail as you can, please,” you smile.

There is flustered laughter shared amongst the four of you. “So Benny and Will, without hesitation,” you recap.

“Yes.”

“Andy?”

All eyes turn to Andrea, with the latter inhaling deeply, then exhaling.

“It is safe to assume it’s Frankie, right?”

“Of course.”

You drink from your wine, avoiding eye contact with her, even though your stomach nearly chews itself from all the pressure and adrenaline running wild in your body. You’re unsure, but you think you might’ve detected hesitation on Andrea’s part, or at least a guilt-filled sip of wine as she said that. Something in you tells you that it can’t be just pre-wedding jitters that made Andrea suggest that break.

You know that if it were you, you’d never want a break from Frankie, ever. Even under tremendous stress.

“He can get very into it,” Andrea grins, her cheeks flushed. “He’s still Frankie, so there’s laughter sometimes and all that, but other times… especially when he goes down on you. He’s so into it, you nearly black out every time.”

“No way!”

“Swear to God.”

While Mia and Emily exclaim and cheer in the most appreciative manner, you do your best to not choke on the wine. Memories of Frankie’s mouth devouring you overcome you, and your cheeks get just as flushed.

Argument could be made that you’re rather using the moment of bonding to your advantage before you give the strike, but the truth is, you just want things to go well before you can steal a moment of privacy with Andrea and confess your sins. You know Frankie is struggling a lot right now, at least you think he is, and it’s likely a little more time will pass until he takes matters into his own hands and confesses.

The feminist in you wants to get to it first.

“What’s going on with Rose and Santi?” Andrea asks cheekily sometime after the third glass of wine. “They seem to have hit it off.”

“Oh, they really hit it off. Went over to Rose’s place last week to invite her for a spontaneous coffee and heard sounds I’d much rather forget.”

Andrea chuckles. “You know how it is when you first get together with someone. All that tension, laughter and all that.”

You gulp, feeling your throat drier than when you began drinking, so you finish your drink, ensuring you remain on the second glass.

“Haven’t you ever had someone like that?” she asks you boldly. “Someone who gets your heart racing so fast you doubt you’re even breathing? Someone with whom you’d unleash your nastiest and neediest sounds?”

Again you gulp, purposely holding your breath for as long as you can.

“I hope I can have that someday,” you say. “I hope I can freely release my nastiest, neediest sounds one day without having to hold back, or… fearing that I shouldn’t.”

Mia and Emily giggle, but Andrea only smiles at you, the mimic fairly bittersweet. You’re pretty sure you’re outing yourself with those not-so-cryptic words, but so far Andrea remains a wonderful hostess.

Rose’s words coo in your head now: “You won’t say that after you try being indecent once or twice in your life.” Oh, but you have been indecent; twice now, even thrice, and while it may make you feel alive, it also makes you guilt-riddled. It’s not technically cheating, but it’s not exactly clean, either. Andrea might still choose to return to Frankie, by the looks of it, and when that will happen, all of this would’ve been just a big, horrible mistake you will have to live with for the rest of your life.

The topic of love and lust, you avoid as much as you can for the next couple of hours while the girls happily exchange such information and get tipsy. You dare to have a third glass of wine, but that is where you cut yourself off. You do not need another drunken encounter with a certain someone or regrettable drunken choices.

You watch bemusedly as Mia and Emily sneak in the rest of the wine bottle to go to the balcony and giggle over their respective partners, which leaves you and Andrea alone. If there was ever any chance, this is it. So you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and initiate the much dreaded conversation.

“Can I ask you something? It’s a bit personal,” you warn.

“Of course.”

“Why did you want to take a break from Frankie? You guys seem so happy together.”

Andrea looks at you, her face dropping in the slightest, and she puts her glass away.

“Before I got into medical school, I was a bit of a wild card. Both of my parents are esteemed people with big reputations, intimidating… there was a lot of pressure on me, so I lashed out. Drinking, partying, sleeping around… haven’t exactly made the right choices. But I was interested in medicine, so when I told them that I wanted to go to medical school, they were thrilled. They’ve made their terms pretty clear: school, fellowship, getting my life together, and then finding someone nice, get married, settle down with a good reputation and a wonderful husband. Or wife. They were so desperate to see me settled down that they were okay with even that. If you knew my parents, you’d know how serious that is.”

You giggle, putting your glass away too.

“As faith would have it, I met Frankie during my first years in medical school. I was working at a bar to pay some of my tuition off We instantly became friends, and I liked him. I’ve grown to love him. I learned to love him. And I still do. He’s warm and kind and sweet… everything a good, real man should be.”

“Then what…?”

You fail to see the point, until you finally do. You see it all over Andrea’s face, and in that moment, the sympathy you feel for her aches as much as you do.

“This is not what you really want, is it?” you whisper.

“I know it’s what I should want, because I do love him,” she replies. “But it’s just not quite… right, you know? Does any of this make even the slightest sense? Without me sounding like a horrible person?”

You nod. “He’s not the big love of your life like your parents have advertised. He’s not that feeling of… home, not really. Love should feel like you’re coming home, in all of its coziness and warmth.”

“Yes! So you know what I’m talking about.”

“I have a slight idea.”

Andrea smiles at you, seemingly a little eased, but it only grows your restlessness and anxiety.

“I’ve done some mistakes in the past, and I have done some recent mistakes too,” she says, voice breaking. “I am by no means proud of them, but… I will make things right. I’m just afraid it might be too late. I think I should stick this out, see it through. My parents were over the moon about me and Frankie and they practically set the whole engagement up. So doing this… it’s the right thing.”

Your first instinct is to grab her hand, squeeze it and thus reassure her, and Andrea seems baffled as you do so. But you don’t pull away. You want her to know that you do not mean to hurt her, in any way. Even if it’s through one simple touch.

“It’s not the right thing if it has you feeling this way,” you tell her. “It’s not, because this is not how you want things to be. If anything, it’s… unfair. But—do you want to see this through?”

Just as she smiles brightly at you, you see her face change, causing you more nervousness.

“I have to,” she answers, though you have difficulty believing her. “My parents can be very intimidating, as I said. And if this wedding doesn’t take place in June… I’ll be that wild teenager again, incapable of making the proper choices.”

“You aren’t.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You gulp, then nod. You’ve never felt more paralyzed in your whole life.

“Frankie told me about you, how close you guys were in high school,” she starts. “I can only assume he fucked up things.”

“Why?”

“The way he was so determined to avoid even looking at you? That is textbook guilty Frankie Morales. He’s like a puppy, either his eyes get too big and wet that you can’t resist them and he clings to you, or he avoids you altogether.”

You break into laughter, much to your own surprise. “Sounds about right.”

“So what did he do?”

“He uh… he stopped talking to me a few months after I moved abroad. No warning, nothing. He just… left.”

“That must’ve hurt like hell. I’m sure you care about him very much.”

“I did.”

“And now?”

You falter, afraid once again that you are painfully obvious. But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this is the push you need.

“I still care about him,” you confess. “It doesn’t just go away.”

“I figured as much.”

“Andrea… I’m sorry.”

She stares at you like you’ve gone completely crazy, and maybe you did, but you need at least one win for today. You need at least the apology to come out of your mouth, otherwise you won’t ever forgive yourself.

“I am so sorry,” you repeat, eyes teary.

“What are you apologizing for?” she asks with a little adorable chuckle.

“Just… I’m sorry. Sometimes I care too much. That’s why I like to keep people at bay, it’s easier. But I do care. I care so much, it—it haunts me.”

The way she stares at you while you’re on the verge of mental collapse is more than just sympathetic. It’s understanding. You’re waiting for her to explode, to confront you or anything similar because there is no possible way she does not intuit, in the slightest, what you’re talking about, but the reaction never comes.

But you do get something you wouldn’t have thought of. Andrea leans in and hugs you, and a tear rolls down your cheek in spite of your best efforts to conceal it. You’re in too much shock to speak, but it might be for the best right now. You relish into the hug, reciprocating, crying silently.

When you make eye contact with her again, she wipes your cheek, and you tremble.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, like your reaction is the one that’s ridiculous.

“I am not an evil person. I don’t mean harm, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t want it to happen this way, not at all. I should’ve stopped it earlier, way earlier. I am so sorry. If caring for someone makes you an idiot, I am the biggest idiot on this planet.”

Andrea hugs you again, rubbing your back gently in the process. You hadn’t expected that reaction out of you, but you suppose that all of what you’ve been hiding has been so bottled up, it was bound to be released under one form or the other.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate,” she tries to coax you.

“A smidge.”

You both laugh, in spite of everything that’s eating at you, and she wipes your cheeks again, staring at you in the most serious way.

“You can’t blame yourself for caring about someone,” she says, and you instantly nod your head.

“Andrea, it’s more than that. It’s—haunting. It’s consuming me.”

“Love makes us all idiots. But it’s not a crime to care, even like this.”

You try to clear your head, and you downright stare at her, trying to see if the nonsensical stuff you’ve muttered so far makes any sense for her.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m getting at here,” you say, heart in your throat.

Andrea smiles, and it is the most bittersweet gesture you have ever seen in your life.

“It’s okay,” she says, leaving you dumbfounded.

“It’s not! Frankie and I—“

She holds your hands, looking right at you. “You don’t have to say it.”

Your eyes widen in panic. Blood goes cold in your veins, and your whole body freezes “You know?”

“Not know know, but Frankie’s spent too much time and energy into making sure he’s not even sitting around you for me not to guess that something’s up. You guys were best friends in high school. Things couldn’t have turned out so bad that you were this distant.”

“Andrea—“

“Don’t. We’re not together right now. We’re separated.”

“I know, but still…”

“I know Frankie, and sometime soon, he’s gonna burst through that door and ramble on about… whatever it is.”

You frown, shaking your head. You’re more confused than before; this doesn’t feel like relief. It feels more puzzling and trickier than what you’ve been dealing with so far.

“How the hell are you so composed and down to earth right now?” you ask her.

Andrea doesn’t respond. That, in return, brews potential answers in your mind, ones that you do not want to confront her about. This is a conversation to be had between partners, and your part is more or less done, in spite of its anti-climactic result.

Either she’s the coolest person on this planet, or there’s something even worse in the middle.

“You guys should really see the sky, it’s full of stars!” Emily announces all of a sudden.

A while after that, you’re all on the balcony, admiring Boston’s skyline, clear and filled with nothing but stars. There’s not much you say after that; but your mind, your restless mind, it spins and works overtime, filled with endless questions.

Quite frankly, you’re surprised at yourself. Sitting here, in front of this door, at this hour, it also feels cheap, but you’ve practically gotten that boulder off your chest, and now you’re guided solely by your emotions. You’ve never truly acted on impulse, especially not when it came to how you are feeling, but now seems a good time as any.

You knock several times, waiting restlessly. When the door finally opens and you’re greeted by Frankie’s fluffy, messy hair and his puzzled gaze, you brace yourself. You walk right by him, inside of the apartment that he shared with Andrea less than two months ago, and you’re feeling both bold and insane.

“I lied,” you open your speech, staring right back at a very confused Frankie.

“What?”

“You saw right through me. I can’t lie to you, I never could. I could lie to everyone but you.”

Frankie braces himself, half curious as to where you’re headed with all that, and half dumbfounded already.

“So here it is,” you say, advancing to him. “I do love you. I’ve loved you since I was eighteen years old, and I am damn sure I will love you when I will be seventy eight. You are the love of my life. You are the reason why none of the relationships or flings or flirts that I have had in the past ten years have worked. I don’t blame you, or even myself. It’s… chemistry. It doesn’t just go away. And believe me, I—I have tried. Oh, how I’ve tried. I have tried… so fucking hard, it exhausted me. It drained me, mentally and emotionally. Loving you is both the best and worst thing that could’ve happened to me. So I am here, telling you that I love you with every fiber of my being because I know you love me too. And because I want you to make an informed decision.”

He frowns, hung onto every word you just spewed at him ever so passionately and intensely.

“I want you to have all the facts before you decide how the rest of your life will go,” you continue, breathless yourself. “Which is why I’m asking you—“

“To choose you.”

You stare at each other, emotions vibrant in your chests.

“No,” you tell him sharply, shakily. “I am asking you to man up, get your shit together and talk to Andrea. We can’t keep doing this, not like this. We can’t pretend it doesn’t mean anything because it does.”

“I know.”

His voice is soft and understanding, and that in return breaks you in unexpected ways. You reckon, at this moment, he’s just as overwhelmed as you are, if not more.

“Talk to her,” you resume. “Because each time you leave, you chip a little more at my heart and I’m not sure how much more she can handle. Every time you walk out the door, away from me, you find a new way to hurt me, and I have to relive it all over again.”

“I never wanted that. It kills me to do it, I just—“

“I know, I get it. I do. What I said before, all of it… it’s true. And I only said it because tonight was weird and emotional as fuck, and I am done hiding and lying and pretending like none of it was ever real. It hurts me, it hurts you, and it hurts Andrea too.”

“I know. I had to go, though. Last time we—I had to.”

“And I understand that. But I need you to understand me, too. I’m not a homewrecker or a cheater. Neither are you.”

Frankie is barely breathing by this point, even less so when he feels your breath on his face, your presence both soothing and startling.

“Andrea and I are separated now,” he mutters, feeling his mental faculties weaken with each second spent in your presence.

“I know. But it doesn’t really diminish what we’re doing here.”

“You—you control me.”

You back away momentarily, examining his face with dismay. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you nearly mock him.

“You do,” Frankie pushes. “You absolutely fucking do. I belong to you. You think I don’t want to be a better man? You think that I don’t want to dedicate myself completely to Andrea, to our engagement and our life together? You don’t think I want to be the honorable man you left?”

You snicker, feeling the pinnacle of the evening finally settling in at its most emotional moment.

“I didn’t leave you. It was the other way around, if you’ve forgotten.”

“I could never forget the worst thing I’ve ever done! Fuckin’ Pope won’t let me forget it, but he has no fucking clue that I am my own worst enemy, and nothing he could ever tell me about that decision to cut you out of my life could compare to the hatred that I have for myself. Nothing, ever.”

You watch him breathless, eyes teary once more, but not from regret. Not this time.

“I love you,” Frankie mutters, clinging onto your hands like he’s drowning and they’re a life vest. “I am so in love with you, you have no idea. I am so sorry for being too much of a coward to tell you back then, but I am telling you now, at the worst possible time… I love you. You’re the love of my life. My heart’s so full of you, I can’t really call it my own anymore. My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face, by the sound of your voice and the way you breathe. I, I for one… I can’t breathe when you’re not here. Feels like I’ve been holding my breath and drowning for the past ten years.”

“Francisco…”

The moment your forehead touches his, you know you’re a goner. But you both need this, you both need to feel this moment as deeply as the words cutting you.

“In two months you’ve managed to bring me back to life and destroy me at the same time,” he breathes. “I can’t sleep, I’m—I’m useless without you. I watch for you, I exist for you. I wanna just… be free. Be free with you.”

“So do it,” you say, your touch featherlight on his cheek. “Prove that everything you just told me is true. I don’t wanna hide, I don’t wanna break Andrea’s heart, and I don’t wanna sleep with you in a hurry, with our pants barely down.”

“I’ll make things right. I’ll make things right by you, by her, by everyone. I fucking swear.”

He cups your cheeks, pulling you in and simply holding you. When you gaze at him, you notice the tears in his eyes, the exasperation in them, all of it. You crumble on the spot.

“I told Andrea,” you say.

He frowns in the slightest. “You did?”

“Kind of. It was very weird. Still not sure she knew what I meant, but she seemed sure the two of you would talk soon. But I did, anyway. Now it’s your turn.”

He nods frantically, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips that you know you should be rejecting, but God, it feels so soft and caring you can’t help it. You can’t push away, not anymore; you simply can’t, not for the life of you.

So you kiss him tenderly, like all the time in the world is at your feet. You kiss him deeply, your mouth a hot furnace emanating sheer desperation albeit the rather gentle moment. He feels it, too; he feels it all through the way your body is glued to his, and he finally allows himself to live in the moment, to enjoy this moment in all of its inhibitory and needy glory.

He lets himself fall on the couch, with you atop of him, your hair tingly over his face and your warm breath a gentle awakening that yes, this is in fact happening, and yes, he’d been granted a second chance to make things right—even if it’s complicated and messy. He lets your hands roam over his body, relishing in the way they settle right above his crotch and the tantalizing way you make eye contact with him. He gives you no indications as to what his intentions are, and yet he is still shook when you seemingly read his mind.

Frankie watches in a blurry haze as you dispose of the clothes that cover up your upper half, realizing that he’s never actually seen you naked. He can’t help the appreciative sigh which leaves his watering mouth, nor can he help the way his calloused hands lift you up halfway in an attempt to help you undress completely. Then, you return the favor and help him undress as well, your emotions all over the place as you gaze at the marvelous body now exposed before you.

Frankie instantly begins to press kisses over your neck and collarbones, and, since the day has been weird and challenging enough, you reach below, wrapping your hand around his cock and watching his face contort in mixtures of pleasure and pain alike.

His moans are growing with each stroke you give him, and you are absolutely enamored by the way he looks and sounds. You still don’t feel well about the whole situation, given that it remains unclear, but then why does this feel so incredibly satisfying?

He’s trying his hardest to stay conscious, but when you lean down below to play with his balls, he grunts louder than ever before, eyes closed and head backwards in the most forbidden ecstasy.

You don’t get through with it, though; next thing you know, Frankie’s hands grip the flesh of your thighs, shifting you so that your core is on his face. You hold your breath, panicking in the slightest. You’ve never done this before and you’re not sure you’re capable of handling it.

“Frankie—“

“It’s okay. I got you.”

Breathless, you watch him press you all the way onto his face. You let out an exceptionally loud moan, much to your own surprise, the sensation of his tongue lapping at your folds unlike what you’ve felt before. From this angle, as your cunt rests on his whole face, it feels like he’s drinking straight from you. You can feel him everywhere, from your cunt, all the way to your thighs and the way he’s grabbing them and the way his cock is resting hard against his stomach. Heat spreads dangerously under your skin, nesting in your veins as his mouth diligently eats you out. You think of how hungry and insatiable he is for you, how utterly needy, and you damn near lose your mind.

The little voice at the back of your head returns with the same famished more. You need more, you need… him, completely. So you rip your own pleasure away from your body, rubbing down his body till your hand curls around his cock and guides it to your soaked entrance.

That first push through your walls is maddening. You both moan as you start moving in circles, having Frankie watch you, absolutely mesmerized. He holds you closely, and after a little while he even reaches to your face to kiss you. It’s such a rush, being inside of you and kissing you, holding you so close. In this moment, as he starts to thrust upwards to meet with the movements of your hips, he never wants to leave you or see you go, ever again. All he wants to know is the taste of your lips, the heat of your pussy and the unilateral breaths as you try to steady yourself while you’re on top of him.

You can finally feel the day’s tension weighing heavily on you, residing deep within your bones. Because now you finally allow yourself to let it all go, and when you feel your muscles contracting, your walls fluttering around Frankie, your mind suddenly goes blank with a peculiar clarity.

You come with a loud cry, and so does Frankie, mere seconds after you. He helps you ride out your orgasm by pressing his torso to yours, kissing you messily in between. You then cup his cheeks, staring at him with the goofiest smile on your face.

“Stay,” he asks you. “Just tonight, till it all blows over.”

Frankie’s barely moving inside of you, but he still is nonetheless, and it’s definitely impacting his decision-making skills at this point.

“Okay,” you concede, just as he’s pulling out with a slight grunt.

You kiss him sweetly, the seal of your lips pressed together a promise of a better tomorrow.

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales fic #francisco morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x female reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #sweet lies series

[bp-zb1fics]

can i req gyuvin x male reader where gyuvin wants to ask out the reader but protective YOUNGER brother gunwook blocks any chance he can get but right as gyuvin is about to give up reader asks gyuvin out? you can make this as funny as you like

The perils of asking you out

pairing: gyuvin x male reader ft. protective younger brother gunwook

genre: university au on some serious crack (same verse as sunbaenim), chaotic romcom vibes

tw/tags: love at first sight, protective brother, uni party, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, junhyeon gives great advice, gunwook is 18 and can have a driver's license, hangovers, eating ramen, confessions, dates, gunwook isn’t trying to be scary — gyuvin’s just scared (and in love), a whole lot of chaos and comedic side comments

wc: 3068 😱

summary: gyuvin’s always wanted to ask you out but he has one big problem and it’s called park gunwook, your extremely protective little brother.

a/n this…hefty word count, srsly thought I wasn’t capable of going over 2k words when it came to requests but oh well. Perhaps it’s because anon (tysm for the req) said “make this as funny as you like” and so this is v much heavily infused w my brand of- err humor. This au was rlly fun to write as well~ Enjoy!

Check my pinned for more fics~

Gyuvin notices you on your first day of university freshman orientation. 

Now he won’t claim love at first sight. He found you interesting, is all. People are allowed to find other people interesting. He wanted to get to know you, which was fine. People should get to know other people. 

And okay, so what if he was in love, just a little, you know? People are allowed to fall in love with other people, goddamit. But it definitely isn’t love, probably.

People can also check the schedules of other people to see what classes they have together. Why? So Gyuvin would have opportunities to talk with you. 

And there’s nothing wrong with that. People should talk to other people. Social interaction is a basic need. The reason people have needs is so that they can function properly.

Right, proper, solid logic.

“Hi.”

You look up at the brunette boy who’s taken the seat beside you.

“I’m Kim Gyuvin.”

You smile, introduce yourself and say:

“Nice to meet you, Gyuvin-ssi.”

Gyuvin swears he can hear wedding bells. 

Which is okay. Totally fine. People are allowed to daydream about their wedding to-

Yeah fuck that.

It’s your first week of freshman year and Kim Gyuvin has a gigantic, humongous, big, fat crush on you. And that’s a fact.

__________________________________________

Gyuvin meets your younger brother when you two are about halfway through the first semester. 

Things are going well for you by all counts. While you don’t always run in the same circles, you’re always friendly in class and he’s more or less claimed the seat next to you for most of the ones you share. You’ve partnered up for a project and he’s offered to bring back the phone charger you forgot you lent him last time you worked together.

Eventually, you gave in, sending him your address after he repeatedly told you it wouldn’t be a bother. Unlike most first year students like him who lived in the dormitories, you stayed at an off-campus apartment building nearby. Gyuvin’s almost bouncing off the walls of the elevator at the chance to see you. Maybe he can even ask you out for dinner if you’re free tonight, he thinks giddily as he knocks on the door.

Unfortunately, all his daydreams die when the door swings open and he is greeted by someone who is definitely not you. They’re about the same height but the other boy still has about an inch on him and a whole lot more muscle, nearly bursting out of the door frame. Gyuvin’s about to apologise, turn around and look for the right apartment when he hears what he clearly knows is your voice calling out.

“Wookie! Who is it?”

Like an angel, you appear behind the boy, your face brightening up as you spot Gyuvin.

“Ah, hi Gyuvin-ssi. Thanks for coming all the way, you really didn’t have to.” You shoo the boy away although he manages to throw Gyuvin another dark look before shuffling back in.

“No, no, no worries at all, it’s really not a problem.” he reassures you weakly, still shaken from the encounter. You glance behind you and wave the other boy off once more.

“Don’t mind Gunwookie.” Gyuvin’s mind is definitely preoccupied by the soft white sweater you’re wearing and how cute and angelic you look in it. Yessir it is.

“He’s just staying with me for the weekend. Never thought my little brother would miss me that quickly, you know?” You laugh as Gyuvin’s mind finally processes what you’re saying.

Little. Brother. That unnervingly large, definitely intimidating boy that’s definitely glaring at him from where he’s seated on the couch was YOUR LITTLE BROTHER???

“I see.” Wow, real smooth Gyuvin.

“Are you alright, Gyuvin-ssi? Are you feeling well?” Your eyebrow furrow at his strange behaviour.

“No, no worries. I’m good.” Gyuvin replies hastily. Right! He’ll ask you if you want to have dinner. “I was actually wondering if you-”

“Hyung, what time are we going? I’m hungry.” And failed.

“Aish you brat, can’t you see that I’m having a conversation over here?” You scold before turning back to Gyuvin, apologetic.

“Really sorry about him Gyuvin-ssi, would you want to join us for dinner? There’s a good soondubu place just down the road that I’m taking Gunwookie to.”

“I, uh-” Gyuvin would have definitely leapt at a chance to have dinner for you if not for the 6-foot devil menacing at him, gaze promising death if he agreed.

“I actually had dinner already,” he said instead. You look even more confused.

“But it’s 4pm?” Right, way to go Gyuvin, so smart.

“I like having dinner early, it’s better for digestion.” He salvages with a total bald-faced lie.

“Huh, I should try that but I love my midnight snacks so-” God if Gyuvin could ever be more in love with you than this. Okay, come back to your senses, Kim Gyuvin.

“Oh, I hate to keep you from your dinner so I’ll get going now.”

You smile. Wedding bells- no, no, no stop it.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Gyuvin-ssi.”

Gyuvin smiles back dopily.

“Yeah, see you.”

The door closes and he walks back to his dormitory.

Asking you out is going to be harder than he expected. He thinks, shuddering at the memory of Gunwook’s dark glare when he opened the door.

As he rummages through his backpack, his hands pull out a very familiar cord and plug.

It’s your charger.

He might as well go die in a hole. Gunwook would definitely be happy to bury his body.

__________________________________________

Gyuvin eventually returns your charger. His dignity on the other hand? Well no one knows when that’s returning.

You’re not even annoyed about it. Laughing at him all good natured and teasing him about his very real fears but it's not like you know that (or Gyuvin’s ever admitting it).

“Did Gunwookie scare you off? He used to be like that when we were in highschool, challenged anyone that gave me trouble,” you chuckle while Gyuvin tries his best not to audibly gulp.

“You’re not going to give me trouble, are you Gyuvin-ssi?”

You’re trouble, he thought. Troubling my heart as we speak.

“I hope not.” he says instead, making you laugh even more.

The class settles down as your professor enters. You pat him lightly on the shoulder. His heart jumps traitorously.

“Don’t let my brother scare you off, Gyuvin-ssi, he might act all protective but really, he’s just a big teddy bear.”

Gyuvin definitely does not believe that but he appreciates the sentiment.

Love will have its challenges, he thinks as he watches you.

And no challenge, not even a terrifyingly overprotective younger brother who’s built like the hulk will stop him.

He’ll ask you out soon, he will.

Then Gyuvin realises the whole class is staring at him, even you.

“The answer to the question, Gyuvin-ssi?” The professor asks expectantly.

Shit.

You mutter the answer under your breath and he repeats it. The professor nods approvingly and moves on. You smile at him when he thanks you. 

Yep. He’s marrying you asking you out and nothing will stop him.

__________________________________________

The next time Gyuvin tries his chances is at a party.

Hosted by the university’s resident social butterfly, definitely in the running for Ms. Congeniality, senior Sung Hanbin, it’s one of the bigger events of the year for the second semester’s O-week. And Gyuvin was lucky enough to have received an invitation personally, having met the friendly senior at one of the uni organisations he joined. 

It was exciting. While he had attended his fair share of welcome parties during his own orientation, there had been rumours floating around about the party the seniors were planning to start their last semester with a bang.

It also just so happened that you were going as well, having been invited by a close friend of Hanbin. Gyuvin was confident. And a little liquid courage wasn’t going to hurt.

You arrived a bit later than he did, accompanied by your friend from the foreign student society of which you took part to improve your already excellent English skills. You’re greeted by Seok Matthew, a junior and another member of the society who happened to be Hanbin’s close friend and your invite to the party. 

Gyuvin was in deep, groaning to Junhyeon about how good you looked, your shirt cut low to show off your collarbones and multiple earrings adorning your ears. At that moment, you spot him and wave, making your way towards him. Gyuvin panics.

“Fuck, fuck, what do I do?”

“If you think he’s hot, you should shoot your shot.” Junhyeon offers, the very fountain of wisdom he is.

You greet Junhyeon before turning to the brunette and wow, your smile is dazzling.

“Gyuvin-ssi, how are you finding the party?”

“It’s great,” he replies by default, mind going blank. “Hanbin-hyung definitely exceeded expectations.” 

Come on, Gyuvin. You can do it. Summon some rizz.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” He manages, gesturing at his empty cup. You agree easily, and he leads you to the bar that's been put up. So far, so good.

Unfortunately for him, you recognize the blond bartender, immediately striking up a conversation.

“Ricky-ah!” Gyuvin reels back when you address him casually. “How’d you end up as the bartender?”

“Zhang Hao-hyung” the other says, naming another close friend of Hanbin’s. The blond’s eyes flick between you and Gyuvin as he polished one of the glasses. What for? No one knew. Most party goers seem to be holding plastic cups.

“So what can I get for you?”

Two drinks, six shots and three drinking games later and Gyuvin is holding on for dear life. Literally, he’s about to fall off his seat. 

The only good thing going for him is that apparently you’re a clingy drunk, latching onto his arm in a way that would definitely give him a heart attack if it wasn’t for all the alcohol he had in him.

“Gyuvinah…” you mumble sleepily as he struggles to keep you both upright. 

“Mmmmm?”

“You’re really handsome, you know?”

Gyuvin truly has no thoughts. He must be in some somaek induced hallucination or something.

“Seriously, the first time I saw you with your brown hair, you looked like a prince.” You continued on, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

Gyuvin suddenly felt way too flustered, his cheeks already flushed hot from the drinks.

“Would you wanna step outside? Get some air maybe.” He suggests.

“Okay!” You agree as you both stumble for the door, whistles and hoots following you.

“Get him, boy!” Someone, probably Haruto, your friend from earlier, yells. Gyuvin ‘s about to turn around and shush them when you groan and bury your face into the back of his shirt.

“They’re so loud, let’s goo.” 

You’re finally outside, sitting together on a bench outside the party venue. Gyuvin can’t get over the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder. Come on Gyuvin, say something to him.

“Did…did you mean what you said earlier?”

You lift your head up if only to squint at him suspiciously.

“Yeah…why?”

And then you smile, dazed, reaching out to pat his cheeks.

“So handsome Gyuvinah” you slur and Gyuvin finally has the nerve to take your hand in his. You stare at both of your hands.

“You’re holding my hand.” You say more of a statement, then a question.

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, here it goes. “Hey, I was wondering maybe you’d like to go-“

HONK! You and Gyuvin nearly jump out of your skins as a car nearly scares the living daylight out of you. The headlights are bright and Gyuvin has to squint to see the driver as he gets out of the car. Oh no, it can’t be-

“Wookie?”

You say as your younger brother makes a beeline for you. You take a minute to look at him up and down and then look at the car behind him and gasp.

“You’re a baby!” You declare, shaking your head at him cutely. “Babies aren’t supposed to drive cars.”

“You texted me to come pick you up, hyung.”

You look adorably perplexed. “Did I?”

Gunwook’s ignoring you, glaring holes into Gyuvin’s hand still holding yours. Gyuvin drops your hand like a dead fish and you whine.

“Nevermind, Gyuvinah doesn’t like me anymore. Take me home, Wookie.” You say as Gyuvin’s mouth drops open and Gunwook hoists you up, half carrying you into the car.

His mouth remains open as the car drives off. Godammit. His stomach lurches. Gyuvin promptly decides to empty its contents onto the side of the bench. Classy. 

__________________________________________

After waking up with a raging hangover and a whole lot of regret, Gyuvin decides to regroup, maybe collect some of his dignity and self-respect again. If he can manage to find it, that is.

Thank god for the weekend, he thinks. One of his roommates decides to make ramyeon, all of them slurping silently and nursing their own hangovers.

And because Junhyeon is Junhyeon, he absolutely had to ask.

“So did you shoot your shot?”

Gyuvin groans. More like he shot himself. 

Junhyeon pats him on the back sympathetically.

“You’ll get there, bro. From what I saw, he seems pretty into you too, you know.”

A little ramen escapes his mouth and falls back into his makeshift bowl with a sad little plop. 

“You really think that?” Junhyeon steps back, clearly not ready for how intensely hopeful his roommate suddenly becomes.

“Okay hold up, woah there. I dunno what he thinks but I saw what I saw at that party. And you cute, bro, no cap.”

“But does he find me cute?” Gyuvin says forlorn again, shovelling noodles into his mouth.

“Well he gotta be finding something in you if he keeps hanging out with you.” Junhyeon offers because yes, he’s truly a well of knowledge.

Gyuvin tips his bowl back and finishes off the soup before staring at its empty state. So sad, truly a tragedy.

__________________________________________

There’s class the next day. And it happens to be one of the classes he has with you. God, how can he face you after that night.

“Hi Gyuvin-ssi,” you greet, back to formal speak much to his dismay.

“Hello,” he says and because he’s a simp little concerned, he asks.

“Are you feeling better after that other night?”

Your face falls. Immediate regret.

“Oh! Oh- um- yes I got home safely. Thanks for-“

And before you can finish, the professor enters and you start class. Now if Gyuvin wasn’t all nervous and fidgety, he would have noticed that you were in the exact same boat. 

When the professor wraps up and you begin to pack up your stuff, Gyuvin takes a chance to call your attention only for you to do it at the exact same time. You look at each other and laugh, the ice broken just a little.

“No, no you go first.” Gyuvin insists.

“Ah…” you hesitate, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to say I’m sorry for my behaviour the other night and I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime? My treat, you know, for taking care of me.”

Gyuvin should assure you it’s fine. He should politely accept your invitation and say that taking care of you isn’t a bother. Instead, he sputters out.

“Like a date?”

You freeze. He freezes. You stand there for an incredibly long time (like 15 seconds, wow). Alarm bells start to go off in Gyuvin’s head. Finally-

“I mean…it can be a date if you want it to be a date?”

Alarm bells turn into wedding bells. Say it, Gyuvin, say I do.

“Totally…I mean, yes, I’d like it to be a date, very much.”

You smile softly before glancing at the time, your face falling again.

“Oh shit, I need to get to my next class, I’ll text you the details later, see you!”

Gyuvin watches as you rush out. It’s okay. He’s fine. Actually no, he’s not fine. But he did it. And it only took a whole semester and some but he’s finally going out with you.

__________________________________________

One blissful winter break later and Gyuvin’s practically skipping to your place. Maybe the chill bit at his skin and the wind whipped in his face but he didn’t care, he was finally going to see you, his boyfriend, again and the cold never bothered him anyway.

Your one date at the start of the last semester had turned into five, then ten dates until he was officially your boyfriend. Walking each other to their next class, holding hands, carrying your bag for you, all that good stuff. 

He’s even met your family over the holidays and you met his. Gyuvin would like to think that even Gunwook was warming up to him, just a little bit. He had come with you to support the younger boy during the CSAT exams and Gunwook actually thanked him once the exam was done. Still, he thought as he knocked on your door enthusiastically, that boy still intimidated him and he’ll definitely need to work on not flinching-

The door swings open and Gyuvin flinches. It’s like deja vu. 

“Hi hyung,” Gunwook greets him wearing what looks like a letterman jacket from their university. Gyuvin must be dreaming, definitely.

He’s about to pinch himself when you appear behind your brother.

“Gyuvinie!”

“Hello my aein~” 

No he’s definitely not dreaming and your brother is still there.

“Hi Gunwook!” He nearly squeaks out before you’re shoving the younger boy away to wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

Gyuvin’s brain promptly malfunctions but the next part of what you say brings him back online.

“Can’t you believe Wookie got accepted into our uni? He’ll be staying with me until we can find a bigger unit to rent, maybe you can live there too!”

“Sure…” Gyuvin said numbly, imagining all the ways Gunwook could fake his death after he dared to defile you. You frown.

“Don’t tell me Wookie still scares you?”

“No! No, what are you talking about?”

He definitely does. So sure, Gyuvin’s managed to make you his. But will your brother accept that? Well, that’s for him to find out. Because yes, it will be a long time before Kim Gyuvin realises that Park Gunwook isn’t as intimidating as he appears to be.

In the end, they’re both just big softies and they’re especially soft for you.

#boys planet #boys planet 999 #boys planet fics #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #boys planet mnet #boys planet fanfic #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fics #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 #zerobaseone #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #kpop imagines #kpop crack #kim gyuvin #zb1 gyuvin #kim gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin fic #fic request #park gunwook #kum junhyeon #haruto #seok matthew #zb1 ricky #side characters #bp-zb1fics

[sur-i-ki]

⇝𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 (3)

⇝Part 2

Naruto woke up feeling dizzy, and thanked the lords that all of was a dream. His fox tended to give him the worst ones.

But that illusion soon shattered, as he moved his hands above his head, he couldn’t. Chains clinked.

They’d chained him. To the hospital bed. It was as if a bucket of ice had dropped on him as yesterday’s events soon came to him in clarity. His heart roared only one thing.

Get her back

He moved frantically, tugging on the chains until his wrists were raw and red. Just as he was about to start dislocating his thumb, Tsunade walked in with Jiraya, Kakashi, and Sakura.

He immediately started begging.

“Please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, let me see her, I’m begging. If this was a test, I probably failed, but please let me see her-“

He was rambling, he knew, but he couldn’t care. You were his, and he was yours. It went beyond a romantic or platonic bond. You belonged with each other. By each other’s sides. No matter the circumstances. You were his first team and teammate.

Sakura’s eyes tightened around the corners, in a way Naruto realized that she was getting angry. She came forward towards him, then turned to face the adults.

“Hokage-sama” she wasn’t addressing her teacher right now, “When asked about the whereabouts of her, you told me that she left the village to go trade in the Wind Country to better our relation with them around the same time Naruto did. You had letters from her for me.”

“Well,” Naruto thought, “Gaara wouldn’t mind a visit from me.”

Sakura continues “But when Naruto inquired her location, I clearly heard you through the door, mention that she was in the village. If she is, why aren’t we able to see her?”

Naruto’s heart dropped. Three years? Nobody had seen you in three years?

Tsunade walks to the front of his bed. “I cannot-“

Sakura and Naruto move in sync. He yanks his hands out, disregarding his broken and bleeding thumbs, just as Sakura punches the window open. Her hand comes to his, glowing green, all the while moving towards their escape.

“She a was a important part of our lives, Hokage-sama, and we are not above breaking and entering for a friend.”

Naruto nods his head and one of his hands finish healing. “Yeah, those who abandon friends and comrades are scum.”

“I’ll take her to you.” Jiraya’s voice echoes.

“Just, don’t do anything stupid nor rash when we see her”

Part 4

@kissyhalik @the-holy-trinity-l @lennyleoo

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

#naruto #naruto x reader #angst #naruto shippuden #naruto uzumaki x reader #sakura #sakura haruno #sakura x reader #jiraiya #tsunade #kakashi #kakashi hatake #suriki writes

[petefromarma]

Dont get me wrong but that course of events you laid out sounds like a mostly good thing? Gabe saying anything even kinda resembling an apology is already better than the Absolutely Nothing I was expecting

i’m putting this under a cut as it’s long

yeah i mean i do think them donating to a relief org would be the absolute best thing possible bc like as of rn nothing abt this is materially helping palestinians. it’s all just noise which honestly i probably shouldn’t be contributing to bc i always knew this was going to happen and i’ve always known what pete and gabe are like. i’ve also always known what the other three are like but pete and gabe are the only ones who have done and said things prior to this incident (other than being silent) irt palestine that warranted outright criticism. anyway my main problem rn is w gabe’s statement.

the reason i’m unimpressed w it is bc i feel like it’s smth either he or an intern paraphrased in like two minutes (again, always knew this was going to be the response if any), and doesn’t address what the majority of the problem was imo, which was that he was parroting blood libel propaganda put out by the israeli govt re oct 7th. i haven’t gone and looked at the post myself recently, only seen screenshots of his comments, so idk if he took that part down, but that to me is the greatest issue. i never had a problem w him mourning the civilian casualties/hostages of oct 7th.

like addressing the discontent at all IS a good thing but i don’t believe his comment covers anything that he actually needed to apologize for and i’ve already seen teenage westerners who clearly learned abt palestine for the first time like. five months ago. trying to speak on this situation with authority that is not earned and not deserved.

and i’d like to be clear and say that i don’t believe all or even most blunders re saying something ignorant online require a full apology; i think that in most cases, deleting whatever was said is enough. i don’t think pile ons or bullying are conducive to rehabilitation or a change in behavior. however, to me, this is a special situation in which i believe a full retraction is necessary bc as i said before, he was spreading israeli govt propaganda.

none of what he said was new to me either. i know he’s the descendant of holocaust survivors, and more than that, i know his family had to flee europe and later uruguay. i know that like many jewish families do, his parents kept a box in their home in nyc filled with their passports and valuables in case they needed to get out of the country in a hurry; he needs to realize that this and so much worse is the reality that palestinins are living every single day.

the israeli govt preys upon and exploits the generational trauma of jewish individuals/families/communities in order to sow fear, terrorize palestinians, and further the colonization of palestinian land; i have complete understanding of how he’s been radicalized to this point, but it doesn’t excuse what he’s said and done and i think the only real way of fixing this is putting his money where his mouth is and making a public donation. again i’m not demanding anything of him, i’m not saying this will or won’t happen, i’m just saying what i think SHOULD be done and what would be the most effective from a harm reduction standpoint. can he come back from being radicalized to the point he was/is? i don’t know. i’d like to think so. all i know is that that statement didn’t address what i think it should have addressed IF it was supposed to be considered at all meaningful and i think the way ppl have been reacting to it is inappropriate.

anyway, sidebar bc i’m going to attempt to stop talking about this after this post and go back to focusing on initiatives that actually benefit ppl in palestine rn, but i think fans (who are not palestinian) who were shocked by this were living in a fantasy world and i think the way those fans esp those on twt have reacted toward meredith has been abhorrent. as i said a lot of this has just been noise rather than any action that is meaningful in any way and i think that while we should be realistic abt what we are going to get from them we should also be able to acknowledge where any actions of theirs are lacking.

#also if anyone has a problem w me using the term blood libel i’m not sorry bc it is what the israeli govt is doing

[midnightrings]

i think many people mistakenly see hawk as a villain, when he's neither the villain within the story or written and acted that way, if you get what i mean, like extra/intradiegetic. and while ft is unquestionably 100% a love story, even though i see people argue whether hawk loves tim back (which is mind boggling to me), I would say it's not the kind of love story where love would immediately change hawk and his attitude to the world and his life, like in a typical romance novel for example, he's not going to be like, omg i love tim and promptly change his entire personality. like, i don't think it's his ambitions and career that he's putting first before tim, it's more self preservation and survival. and as he says himself in the letter he's dictating to tim which serves to covertly address his own feelings, he doesn't see a future for them. I don't want to baby him lmao, he's not a helpless man with no choice or agency, but imo it's clear his decisions are affected by his father's behavior towards him, the war, homophobia of the time period, internalized homophobia etc.

Yes, exactly!

Hawk is a flawed character, but that doesn’t make him the villain of this story. Due to his past and the time period he lives in, he struggles to form any deep connection and believes it is better to not show any vulnerability or to get too attached to other people or causes. Not caring about anyone or anything is his strategy to survive. Fear probably plays a huge role here – the fear of being outed, the fear of hurting/losing people her cares about, and the fear of hurting himself in the process. Which doesn’t mean that he’s innocent or merely a victim. He’s very much flawed, and often times an awful person. But his main mistake is that he’s running away from his issues, rather than facing them. Tim could help him become a better person (and I think he does to some extent) but Tim also represents everything that Hawk is afraid of.

And even though I feel sorry for Tim, and definitely think that he’s the victim of Hawk’s behavior most times, painting Hawk as the villain and Tim as the victim also erases Tim’s agency. He’s the one who left Hawk several times, just to return to him again later. At this point, he’s clearly aware of what type of person Hawk is, and he chooses to love him nonetheless. Sadly, Hawk can’t return that love – not because he doesn’t love him (he 100% does) but because he believes that he cannot allow himself to love Tim.

It’s definitely not a romance, but it is a love story – a tragic love story. Hawk is intended to be a complex character that his hard to judge – both, by the characters within the story and the audience. People questioning whether Hawk loves Tim is not surprising, but if you actually pay attention to his character and the writing, it is clear that he does love him – the story wouldn’t even make sense otherwise.

But yeah, I also don’t think his character will change completely at any point, not even after Tim’s death, at least judging by the writing so far. Maybe he will accept how he’s let Tim down and somewhat grow from it, maybe he’ll have a complete breakdown, or maybe he will just continue to live like he’s always done. This definitely won’t have a happy ending. Though I do still hope that Hawk and Tim can maybe make some amends, just so that Tim can rest in peace (and I kinda hope that he tells Tim at some point that he loves/loved him, just to maybe give it a somewhat bittersweet ending)

#fellow travelers #hawkins fuller #hawk x tim #tv

[sochilll]

Day Two of Pins and Patches Week! (See the prompt list here!)

Day 2: Tears/Drunk

Read on Ao3

Michael was aware that he couldn’t just stay in Jake Dillinger’s bathroom forever. He knew at some point he’d have to get off the floor and leave the room and walk through the party and get back to his car and drive home. But he just didn’t think he’d survive any of that at the moment. He lifted his head as yet another person banged on the door. He was concerned that if he ignored them much longer, someone would just break the door down. 

He pulled himself to his feet, using the counter for leverage. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were red and puffy. 

He opened the door, was shoved aside by some girl he vaguely recognized, and was left to fend for himself in the hallway.

The music pounded in his ears, rattling his teeth. He put his hands over ears, trying to protect them. Trying to be able to think clearly. He needed to get out. He needed to find the door and his car and… uh oh.

Michael hadn’t realized it while fighting with Jeremy or while sitting on the floor crying but he was perhaps a little drunker than he meant to be. When he turned his head, the world took a second to catch up. He swayed. 

“Hey man.” Someone grabbed Michael’s shoulder. “You seen—? Hey, you okay?”

Michael blinked. “Jake.”

“Yeah.” Jake ducked to meet Michael’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

Michael nodded. Then he started crying. He felt his balance go weird but Jake’s hands were squeezing his shoulders, keeping him upright. 

“Um,” Jake glanced around like he was looking for somewhere to put Michael.

“Sorry. Fuck. Shit. Sorry. I just—I got into a big fight with Jeremy. My best friend. And now he ha-hates me. And I didn’t even want to be at this stupid party. No offense. And now I have to go home and I don’t know where the front door is and…” Michael trailed off, hiccuping through his tears. 

“Hey,” Jake straightened Michael’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “It’s your lucky day. I can help you find the front door.”

Michael laughed a little, still crying. 

Jake fought his way through the crowds of people, gripping Michael’s arm, and hauling him along. Michael stumbled blindly after him. 

They reached the front door and stepped out onto the porch. The cold air stung Michael’s wet cheeks. He shivered.

“Look at that. We made it.” Jake grinned at him. 

Michael nodded, still having enough sense to keep his mouth shut. 

“So, where’s your ride?”

Michael blinked. He pointed at the PT Cruiser parked across the street. “I drove here.”

“Oh.” Jake eyed him. “That’s… probably not a good idea.”

“No, I’m fine,” Michael insisted. “I’m good. I’ll just sit for a minute and then I’ll be good.” He didn’t really believe that but he needed to get away from Jake and this whole humiliating experience, even if it meant sleeping in her car across the street. 

“Dude, you’re fucked up. You can’t drive.” Jake glanced behind him at the open front door, then back at Michael. “I’ll take you home.”

Michael snorted. “Like you’re sober right now.”

“I am,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to be. But Rich is on some weird rampage and I’ve been trying to keep track of him all night.” He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Come on.” 

Michael stumbled after him, trying to come up with an excuse to not get into Jake’s car. He stopped walking when he saw Jake unlock a shiny black sports car.

“Oh I can’t get in there.”

“Why not?” Jake frowned.

“Cause I might possibly maybe throw up in it. And I can’t afford to pay to fix your upholstery because I’d like to go to college.”

Jake snorted. He shoved Michael toward the car. “We’ll roll the windows down. And I promise I won’t charge you for any puke-related damages.”

Michael dragged his feet but eventually got into the car and gave Jake his address. Jake drove smoothly enough that Michael didn’t get overwhelmingly nauseous on the drive. Only mildly nauseous. 

“So what happened with that dude?” Jake asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“You said you were fighting with your friend.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Michael didn’t know how he’d even begin to explain what was happening between them. He figured Jake didn’t really care to know the details anyway. “Just stupid high school shit. He thinks being popular is the most important thing. Doesn’t get that all the popular kids are vapid, selfish, assholes.” Michael looked over, sniffling. “No offense.”

“You say no offense after directly insulting me a lot.”

Michael slid down in his seat. “Sorry. I’m drunk.”

Jake laughed. He pulled up to the curb in front of Michael’s house. 

“Thanks.” Michael unbuckled his seatbelt. 

“No problem. Honestly, it was nice to get some space from the noise.” Jake gave him a seemingly genuine smile. “I’ll come get you tomorrow so you can get your car.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can… Uber or something.”

“That’s stupid. I’ll probably sleep in pretty late so let’s say noon to be safe.”

“I… uh… okay.” Michael got out of the car. “Thanks.” 

“See you around.”

“Yeah. Uh, see you around.” Michael smiled slightly, and then remembered he was supposed to be sad and fixed his face before going inside.

#I had class for 6 hours immediately after work yesterday so I didn’t have time to post it hehe #today’s will be up next! #the first two days basically just being ‘Michael and Jake interact one time and Michael is in love’ #day 3 is a different vibe I promise lolol #pinsnpatchesweek #pins and patches #bmc #my writing

[bees-tornado]

3, 5, 18 for the Fire Emblem asks?

*cracks knuckles* only a couple weeks late (edit: longer than a couple weeks I REPEAT LONGER THAN A COUPLE WEEKS) let’s do this

3. Any criticisms about your favorite game, or anything you would change?

Hmmm let me see… it’s been a while since I last played fe3h so there’s probably a few gripes I’ve forgotten about, but here’s some off the top of my head:

I’m probably the thousandth person to make this criticism, and I won’t go on about it as long as I could, but the dissonance between “haha look at funny girl she scream and cry and run away” and “yeah hi im actually this way because I was Horribly Abused” in Bernadetta’s supports makes the former hard to watch sometimes. Often times I’m just kind of sad and uncomfortable for her when the game is clearly trying to be funny. There's some nuance here of course, and I could go into more detail on a good day, but I've been sitting on this paragraph for *checks notes* nearly 2 months so. Good enough.

Considering that you're meant to replay significant portions of the game multiple times between all the routes, I really wish there was just a tiny bit more variety in the map designs and objectives. Cindered Shadows some gets credit for addressing this (A Harrowing Escape my beloved/beloathed).

5. Which titles have you played?

I got into the series through Awakening, and since then I’ve played Three Houses, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Sacred Stones (got close to the end but never finished oops), and Shadow Dragon (only played the first map so it barely counts)! I've played both Warriors games too, if that counts, and I've been playing Heroes since launch. And we can't forget about my favorite Fire Emblem game, Super Smash Bros.

18. Do you have any special stories related to the series?

It's not much of a story, but during my most recent Awakening Hard Mode run, I decided to use Donnel (who I had never properly invested in before this playthrough) and promote him to Hero. By Chapter 11 he was already basically my champion, but he officially cemented himself in that role when he got a perfectly-timed crit and finished off Gangrel with a triumphant YEEEEHAW

Thank you for the ask, sorry it took so long to answer!! I put it off, then I forgot, then I tried to answer the whole thing at once and got stuck because I couldn't write a paragraph the way I wanted to, then I forgot again, then I figured I'd wait to answer because your blog was on strike, then I uhhh forgot a third time, and now we're here!

The ask game in question

#sorry again i promise i was excited to answer it 😭 #my asks

[whatwouldmickeydo]

I wrote this random thing sometime after season 10 aired and had planned to make it a part of something bigger but never actually got around to it.

Takes place after Ian’s release in 10x5 and before Mickey’s release in 10x6.

He’s on hour ten of a 14 hour shift, waiting in line for some desperately needed coffee while on break, the other two paramedics waiting impatiently in the rig outside. At least Paula hasn’t stopped them from having this little bit of joy yet. She’ll probably start back charging them for breaks too before long.

And then that’ll be when I finally fucking quit. Except not because he needs the damn money.

The lady at the front seems to be attempting to win a medal for how much shit she can fit in one cup of coffee. Who the fuck even mixes peppermint with caramel?

He’s glancing around the shop when his eyes lock onto another pair staring straight at him. Ian recognizes him slightly, seen him here a few times when he comes in to grab coffee for a long shift. One of those guys who never seem to specify what exactly they do for work but somehow always have a laptop open doing something.

He’s good looking, there’s no denying that – tan skin, tight shirt, slick backed blonde hair, artsy tattoos wrapping around his biceps. Not the right kind of tattoos though. Ian offers a friendly nod in his direction, gets a heat filled leer and a grin back. He knows the look, seen it enough times from his days at the club. Hell, he’s given that look to plenty of guys himself.

Ian’s finally next in line so he drops the gaze and steps up to the counter, quickly placing an order for three coffees to go.

He’s standing off to the side waiting for them to call his name when he hears a throat clear next to him, looking over to see the guy walking up to him with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hi there. Name’s Jackson. You work around here?” Ian turns to address him, slightly caught off guard at being approached so quickly.

“Hey. Uh, the rig out there is mine,” he says, gesturing out the window to the ambulance parked out front where his two other coworkers are standing outside, one of them tapping frantically at his watch.

Jackson turns to look, nodding in recognition. “Yeah, I’ve seen you come in a few times, there some medical crisis happening around here I should know about?” he says with a rakish smile, not hiding the way he’s clearly checking out Ian, eyes lingering on his lower body.

Ian flushes slightly, skin prickling at the obvious attention. He laughs lightly, scratching the back of his head. “No, nothing like that. This coffee shop is pretty close to our route and the two out there are actual coffee snobs who won’t drink shit from Starbucks.”

Jackson laughs, a little too loudly for a joke Ian thinks isn’t all that funny.

“It’s a pretty nice neighborhood, actually. Lots of cool bars and places to hang out. I could show you around sometime if you want,” he offers, and Ian thinks he finally understands what the phrase ‘batting your eyelashes’ means.

Ian glances at him quickly, trying not to make too much eye contact. “Uh, sorry dude… I’m uh… taken. I’ve got someone.” He flushes, heat spreading through his body at his own words. Because he is. Taken. He belongs to someone.

He doesn’t think a simple sentence like I’ve got someone should be having this much of an effect on him, but he can’t help it. Mickey is his and he told him he’d wait. It’s different than the last time, when they were separated by glass and prison guards, when he had lied to his face and spiraled out into madness. They’re both so different now, it’s hard to fit those parts of his life together with his life now.

“He’s a lucky guy then. If you’re both ever looking for a good time, hit me up,” Jackson offers with an easy smile and a wink, clearly not put off by the mention of someone else. He slides a piece of paper across the counter with what Ian can only assume is his phone number. He doesn’t make an effort to take it, because he already knows the answer.

Mickey doesn’t share.

And neither does he.

A sliver of want flashes through him, images of Mickey’s shit-eating grin shining bright behind his eyes, picturing that tongue curling around his teeth when he’s feeling particularly smug. God, he misses him.

He snaps out of his daydream when he hears his name being called for his order, nodding politely at Jackson before heading up to grab the coffees.

“No thanks man, we’re good.”

#this has been sitting in my drafts for forever #I had a whole 3+1 idea for this but ended up with only one idea lmao #anyway here’s some random writing about season 10 #gallavich #shameless

[mangoshorthand]

Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 5 (Hard Feelings Part 2)

SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates) Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

Five has a complex plan to communicate to his siblings...just not to you. Perhaps if he had, he might have been able to do less damage.

Chemical testing below. Proceed at your own risk

Chapter 5: Mess Spectomentator

“-And once it’s through this column, the separated components go through an interface to turn it into something the vacuum in the MS device can deal with. After that it’s through the mass spectrometer and that’s how we detect substances. At that point, I need the software to actually analyze it.”

Luther is clearly lost. Klaus watches with polite, dreamy interest and Viktor’s forehead is wrinkled with concentration Only Sloane looks like she’s following him. Five stands by the blackboard still frozen in a gesticulation towards his ridiculous diagram.

“How long does it take”, asks Viktor, clearly not sure if this is the right question.

“If I were a real chemist- probably a two month study- but I don’t have that time and this is just a pilot- a primer to get public attention. If I had the solvents at home I can probably knock myself up the HPLC device with all of Dad’s old shit, but maybe not the mass spectrometer…”

“Uncle Viktor!”

Five is gone when you wake up. No morning training today, apparently. You shower, dress, put on makeup and still see no sign of him. Downstairs, you stick your head round Santi’s bedroom door. He’s still asleep. Five has usually got him up for school by now. You gently wake him.

“Where’s Uncle Five?” he yawns.

“He must be making breakfast, come on buddy, let’s get dressed.”

You help him choose an outfit for school that’s partway appropriate, vetoing his initial choice of Bermuda shorts and dress-shoes.

Together you head downstairs, hearing voices from the living room.

“Uncle Viktor!” gasps Santi, recognising his voice. He runs through the living room doors and you follow.

It’s more than Uncle Viktor: he, Klaus, Luther and Sloane sit on one of the sofas. Five is standing before them, clearly paused in the act of explaining something to them.

On a blackboard beside him is an incomprehensible diagram drawn with coloured chalk. Arrows attach a crudely-drawn jerrycan to a complex machine upon which two bottles stand. The output of this first machine filters into one arrow, flowing into a box full of what looks like test tubes. SAMPLES is scrawled next to these. The arrow then follows on from a vertical tube (labeled HPLC) to a horizontal one, by which is scrawled something that looks like MESS SPECTOMENTATOR. Finally, the arrow leads to a box reading DETECTION/ANALYSIS. 

When you enter, Five is still pointing his chalk at the ‘mess spectomentator’, but he hastily drops his arm. Santi receives quick hugs from all while you address the adults.

“Hey, you guys are here early." you turn to Five, “I didn’t know Santi needed getting up.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“I can see that. Is this about the soda?”

He nods but doesn’t elaborate. He looks at you and jerks his head a little. A dismissal: Once you’re gone, I can continue.

His brothers and sister-in-law notice his attitude. You see Klaus look from you to him and Sloane shifts uncomfortably. When you don’t obey his looks, he says:

“Can you get Santi breakfast and walk him to the bus stop for me today?”

You know you’re being dismissed, but you don’t have to like it.

“Yeah.” You say, stiffly, “Catch me up later, ok?”

“I’ll tell you what’s necessary.” 

His tone makes it clear that this won’t be much.

“Ok”, you respond. 

You’d given him an out that allowed you to retain at least some dignity in front of his siblings, (some sort of illusion of equality). You're good enough to suck his dick but not to tell his plans? You feel absolutely no guilt in being passive aggressive now. Fuck him.

"I’ll just keep my eye on the domestic matters and then I'll sit by the door waiting for you to get home. Like a faithful labrador, yeah?"

The sting lands. You see the darkness flash in his eyes as he remembers your comments on the night of your fight. He's hurt and angry. And you're glad.

Smiling at him sarcastically, you summon Santi with an outstretched hand and leave the living room.

Klaus makes a noise of mock-horror.

“Oooooh you’re in trou-ble.”

Five exhales, “I’m used to it.”

“Maybe be less of an asshole then?” Luther mutters, just as Klaus says:

“Oooh! Are you doing the whole,” (he puts on a staccato Christian-Bale-batman voice) “‘Uhhhhh you don’t understand the burden of my power. I was in the apocalypse forever and nobody understaaaands- thing? I love that look on you!”

“No,” says Five, clearly annoyed but keeping his voice in check, “I’m doing the: Don’t want to drug myself to stay awake for several days -thing.”

Klaus smiles and gestures as if Five agreed with him.

“Exactly!”

Five ignores this and turns back to the group, his forbidding tone clearly conveying that the interruption is over. 

“Up until the detection phase, the process takes an hour at most but that’s where it slows down. I need the proper software and it could take hours to produce the chromatograms. Once I have those it's a matter of interpreting them and then cross-referencing them with the compounds that are actually listed on the ingredients list.”

He puts his hands in his pockets, brow furrowed, and stares contemplatively at the diagram.

Luther, not entirely sure he’s getting this, ventures a question:

“Where can you access the software and get the…chrom-to-grams?”

“I was thinking the Chemistry department at the college. I’m going to have to break in.”

“Ooh, I’m coming!” says Klaus, eyes aglow.

“No,” says Five “I don’t need someone trying to smoke anything not nailed down.”

“But you never did any of this before, right? What if there’s some old ghostie chemist dude we can pump for information?”

This is revelatory to Five.

“That’s…actually not a bad idea…” 

He considers and then discounts it.

“But I’m banking on getting in by stealth. I have the advantage of at least looking like a student.”

Before Klaus can protest to this implied slight, Sloane speaks for the first time:

“I don’t understand why you’re talking about building a device when you’ve got to be in the college lab for hours anyway. Why not just use theirs? Won’t it all be hooked up together anyway?”

Five points at her, “True. I'm overcomplicating it. What’s eight hours instead of seven?" 

 He exhales and sags a little, hips canting backwards and foot tapping as he thinks.

"So this meeting is more of a…reconnaissance thing?” His hands dart into his pockets again, “Has anybody got any contacts at the college?”

They all turn to Viktor, the only one of them who had been to college.

“There wasn’t exactly much need for a chemistry department at the School of Music.”

“Okay. So, I’m just going to have to go in blind. I’ll do what research I can about the building layout, but I go in tonight.”

“Can’t you just…blink right in?” asks Sloane.

“Not when I can’t see where I’m going. I don’t know the rooms well enough.”

“What do you need from us?” asks Luther

“To be honest, I just wanted to run it past you. I didn't want to go maverick and not keep you guys informed. If anything happens, you’ll know why and you’ll be able to pick up where I left off.”

Five did not tell you the necessary. Unless you count a hastily scrawled note stuck to the front door before you took Santi to the bus stop.

The asshole.

Now, with Santi asleep, you and Klaus are sitting in the living room sharing a couple of drinks. He’s so understanding, so good-humored and so effortlessly beguiling that you forget he’s Five’s brother. Though you tried not to confide in him and tried not to cry, it had happened anyway. 

He looks over at the now-erased blackboard and lays his head back on the sofa. 

“He’s a prick.”

You nod.

“What’s he doing?”

Klaus waves an airy hand.

“Chemistry stuff. Dressing as a student, breaking into Colombia's labs and doing experiments on two cans of JUICED. One from the school, one from the store. He's trying to work out whether there are funky ingredients in there that aren’t on the label- you know, the sort of thing that might cause kids to sprout tumors. Then he's maybe going to a frat party for all I know.”

“Why couldn’t he tell me that?”

“Because he’s a prick.”

You raise your hands in a gesture of angry disbelief, “I have a friend who’s a PhD chemist there!”

Klaus breaks into giggles “Oh that’s too perfect. That asshole’s probably staking out, stealing keys and you could have got him in fine all along. He really is a prick.” 

When he calms down, he becomes uncharacteristically serious: 

"You know it's because he loves you, right?"

"Of course," you reply, laying your head back too, "I just wish he didn't show it by being so...patronizing."

"He used to be the same with me. When I was 'over-medicating',” he air-quotes, "He kinda still is. He can be mean. It's how he deals with wanting to protect someone he thinks is..." he trails off.

"...A liability?" you finish for him. 

"Yeeeah."

 He turns to look at you and his eyes fill with sympathy. Then, tenderly he asks:

"You wanna go take a shit in his underwear drawer?"

You laugh for the first time in a while.

"Y'know Klaus, if we didn't share an underwear drawer, I might take you up on that."

Klaus clasps both hands to his heart.

"You share an underwear drawer? Awh! That is too sweet... And it's so convenient for his panty-stealing thing!"

You both enjoy the hilarity for a few moments, you unsure how he knows about the pair of panties Five had 'liberated' from your apartment that time. Then a thought seems to strike him and his eyes glint with more mischief.

“Did you see the papers today? I usually don't but I saw the headline and I had to get it.”

“No.”

He jogs from the room and returns with a newspaper which he throws onto your lap.

“They’re all like this, but I think this one got his good side.”

'UMBRELLA ACADEMY: MYSTERY MAN IMPERSONATES MISSING MEMBER,' screams the headline.

Beneath this is a picture of Five, looking surly, captioned: 'The public is warned to approach with caution: the man claiming to be Number Five, spotted in a Manhattan bar'

You look up at Klaus and he nods towards the article itself:

'NEW YORK- A man claiming to be the Umbrella Academy's lost Number Five has shown 'disruptive and antisocial behavior in a recent incident at Holbrook elementary school A witness claims that a young man disrupted a meeting held by the school's principal to inform parents about student support measures. "He was crazy," says David Wilson, father of a third-grader, "[he was] talking about pedophilia in the Catholic church, getting my kids tested for all kinds of illnesses. I think he's one of those flat earth nuts. He certainly said the name Hargreeves to me." Reports suggest that the unknown man attended the meeting at Holbrook Elementary and caused disruption with 'unhinged' behavior. A source close to the Hargreeves family has confirmed that this man has been seen entering and leaving their New York City-based compound, but no verified members of the now-disbanded Academy have been reached for comment...'

You've read enough and look up at Klaus. 

"What the hell is this doing on the front page?"

He shrugs. You furrow your brow and look back at the paper.

“You think this is the soda company?”

“I guess so." says Klaus, "Looks like they got their tentacles in a lot of pies. It shows he’s at least onto something while being an asshole.”

Luckily for Five, the plans and blueprints of the chemistry building had been available via public access. Even more luckily for his purposes, the specifications had to be detailed due to the nature of the experiments that needed to take place there.

He sat in the library poring over these until he knew them by heart. He was hoping to simply hide in plain sight and be a student doing an experiment. He had been to a convenience store on the way to the college, grabbing himself a second can of JUICED. 

It was easy getting into the lab. All he had to do was lurk until he could follow someone in, walking with the confidence of someone who knew where he was going and had, of course, been here many times. Now he knew the floorplan well, he could have blinked in, but didn’t want to startle any unsuspecting students. Staying under the radar for now, at least, was paramount. 

Instead, he kept close behind a scholarly-looking girl as she used her swipe card, simultaneously trying not to spook her by getting too close. As they stepped into the elevator together, she looked him up and down.

He had changed into a pair of Viktor’s jeans and a flannel shirt open over a t-shirt. He carried a backpack containing the two cans (provenance labeled). He feels awkward, as usual, but the outfit helps him to look the part. Or at least more like the part.

“Hey,” says the girl.

“Hi.” 

He nods a little tersely, placing his hands into the jean pockets. He tries not to engage in conversation but she’s inconveniently loquacious.

“I’ve not seen anyone else in the labs at this time of year.”

This is great news for getting in and out undetected, but the fact that she’s taking such an interest is inconvenient.

 Who’s your supervisor?”

“Professor Kaufman,” he says, his cursory faculty research allowing him to choose a plausible name.

“Cool. I’m under Doctor Evans.” He nods as if he knows who she’s talking about beyond a name printed in the department prospectus. 

The elevator reaches the right floor and he’s thankful to be leaving her presence, although he knows from his research that they will likely be going the same way. He follows her into a PPE room, where they both don protective equipment. Inconveniently, she continues chatting to him.

"I'm Sarah, by the way." 

She gives him a small, cheery wave. 

"Nice to meet you Sarah.”

It's all he intends to say but she smiles at him expectantly until the awkwardness gets to him.

"I'm Kieran,” he says.

He has no idea why he chooses this. Though, while he thinks this, he realizes it wasn’t entirely random. It was one of the names Grace gave him to choose from when he was young: Kieran, Michael, Shane, Daniel, or James. All were common in Ireland, his birth country, but he’d never connected with any of them. 

He sidelines the memory and hurries on. 

"The HPLC is down the hall and to the right, right?”

“Um- I think so.”

“Thanks.”

Now he sits in front of the computer screen as the machine hums and purrs with his two sets of samples. He brought Persuasion with him to pass the time but he hasn’t yet touched it. It’s coming time for the long detection and analysis phase and he didn’t think about logins. Logins! So simple but so frustrating. He's tried all the tricks he knows, but he simply doesn't have the requisite knowledge of the college intranet. He drums his gloved fingers on the work surface.

His mind revolves to the only solution. 

He pops his head around the door of the neighboring lab-space, wishing the PPE had pockets he could put his hands into.

“Hi again Sarah”

“Hey Kieran”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I’m a transfer here from University of Chicago and the IT guys never really got my login to work. It's a real pain in the ass. I can’t login to the computer to analyze my results…could I maybe borrow your login?” 

He gives her his fake, shark-like smile and she eyes him suspiciously. She's too clever for her own good.

“I’d- if you don’t mind, I’d rather not.”

“It’s just,” he tries, “it took me so long to prepare my samples. They’re in the machine now and they’ll be wasted if I can’t produce output.” 

“I can find you the number of the IT desk if you like?”

“I wouldn’t ask you to give me the login- I’d ask you to type it in.”

“Still…”

Five sighs. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this but, since it has, he may as well turn it to his advantage.

When Sarah comes round, face down, Five is bending over her. He has her arms and legs tied together and behind her with wires he’s pulled from lab equipment in the room she was in.

“I’m sorry about this,” he says to her struggling, terrified figure, speaking as if he’s accidentally nicked her car in a parking lot, “I don’t want to hurt you but I really am going to need those logins.”

Her cries would be noisy but for the gag he fashioned from the flannel shirt extracted from beneath his PPE. He gives her a while to calm down, trying not to show any impatience.

She tries to talk, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Promise to be quiet?” he asks. She nods vigorously and he loosens his shirt.

She doesn’t even attempt to dissemble, telling him her login without him having to ask again, tears streaming all-but silently down her face. Once he’s in, he opens the software and sets it to analyze the output of the spectrometer. Thankfully, the machine he’s using is fairly intuitive to the impression he’s gained from research and a little prior knowledge.

“Can…can I go now?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to keep you here for a few hours. I may need your help interpreting the output once I’m done.”

“Please!” she seems to cast around, desperate for an out, “I-it's not a specialism of mine!”

“It's identifying compounds. You could do it in your sleep. Hell, I could probably do it in my sleep but I want another opinion. I just want to cross reference them with an ingredients list to identify anything that shouldn’t be in there. In one or both of the cans I'm using.” 

He tries to give her a friendly smile, but it doesn't have the desired effect. She sobs a little, but not loudly enough to make him reattach the gag.

While the software does its thing, he picks up Persuasion and begins to read.

After nearly two hours, he notices her shifting. His eyes dart upwards from the book, suspicious that she’s attempting to escape her bonds, but she’s just uncomfortable having been in the unnatural position for too long.

He marks his page, jumps down off the work surface he’s perched on and pulls over a sturdy lab stool.

“Let me fix that.”

She shrinks from him as he bends over, but he ignores this, loosening the wires so that she can move her legs. He pulls her upwards and lifts her onto the stool as gently as he can. He leans her against the work surface so she doesn’t topple over and then reties her ankles to the stool’s legs and her wrists behind her back.

“Better?”

“Yes.” She whispers. 

She looks terrified. He doesn’t like to see this. He regrets that he’s probably giving this bright young academic the crowning trauma of her short life. He sighs.

“Sarah, I promise you I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. In case you haven't guessed, I'm not a student. I think the soda I’m testing is giving children brain tumors. Four so far. ”

She doesn’t reply, starting to cry a little again.

“Just a few more hours,” he says, picking up his book again. 

At hour four, her stomach rumbles. He reaches into his backpack, which makes her panic until she sees he's only holding a party size pack of Ruffles. These, he shares with her silently, freeing one of her hands. He makes sure that she has over half the pack, (it only seems fair given the circumstances). Afterwards, he pours her coffee from his Thermos too.

When at last the software is ready to produce output, he drags her beside him, both hands retied, being careful to support her on the stool.

“So: here’s our ingredient list and here’s our two sets of output. Some of these are easy to check off and are in both cans.”

They work through it together; Sarah co-operating better than he could have hoped. At last, they have identified all the ingredients save one, present only in the sample he gathered from Holbrook Elementary. 

“So…what is it?” says Five, squinting at the screen, “This must be the thing I’m looking for.”

Sarah leans forward, “I think…it should be pretty accurate but I think the software has…guessed. Like it can't recognise the compound. It's indicating ethylmethane but that error margin is huge."

“What can you tell me about ethylemethane?”

“Erm…I think…I think...if we're talking cancer then...it's a mutagen.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3.  Here is a link to the whole series

#the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #umbrella academy smut #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x you #umbrella academy five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves imagine #number five smut #number 5 imagine #number 5 #fanfic #ao3 writer #read on ao3 #tua fanfic #umbrella academy fanfic #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number 5 x reader #number 5 x you #Hard feelings #Before a fall

[unfortunate-songbird]

Analysis because I’m bored

I’d do a venndiagram thing but it won’t fit everything so you get a confusing list instead

Zuko from Avatar. Hunter from Owl House. Leo from Rise. Tommy from DSMP.

What do they have in common?

a frikcin lot, actually

Leo&Hunter&Zuko&Tommy

16 y/old boy

Trauma city baybee

Has cried on screen at least once 

Self-sacrificial tendencies (some more prominent than others)

Mental health in the gutter

What’s a therapist

Magic exists

Angst magnets both in canon and in the fandom

Can Not catch a break ever

Cocky

They all have siblings

Dumbass. Every single one of them. They’ve all done really stupid things.

Sometimes they are in absolutely misery and sometimes they are just incredibly funny for no reason

High key dramatic 

“Most people find me annoying at first” they piss off a lot of people and can be kinda obnoxious 

Strange creatures exist

Distinct color

Almost fell to their death in a very dramatic scene 

But wait, there’s more:

Tommy&Hunter&Leo

No mom at all

Literally none

Silly goofy guys <3

Blonde (look ik Leo only had hair for 1 episode and it was evil but let me have this)

Really wants attention/validation and does some stupid stuff to get it (ok Zuko probably does too but it’s a little less?? Obvious?? Idk)

America exists 

They live in a comedy world (aside from the angst) and it Shows

Starts out silly goofy and then turns into angst (Avatar was kinda angsty from the beginning)

Knows a few words of Spanish (which is more than Zuko knows considering Spanish doesn’t exist in his world)

Leo&Zuko&Tommy

swords

swords

swords

Don’t wanna flex but they’ve never been possessed (rip Hunter)

Doesn’t travel between realms (fantasy vs the real world but with some magic involved)

Does not attend school at all and shows no interest in doing so

Has a normal vocabulary (doesn’t use nerd words as much as Hunter)

Face visible from their first appearance 

Has fist-fought people and will again

Fshshs this one is not very long

Zuko&Hunter&Leo

Cartoon

They can wield magic powers

Has a large support group of people who love them (oof Tommy)

Has at least one good parental figure (oof Tommy)

Recovery! Hopeful endings! :) (oof tommy) 

When they almost fell to their death they were saved by a loved one (oof tommy)

Big brother moment (at least one younger sibling) 

Very protective over younger siblings (adopted or not)

American accents

Tommy&Hunter&Zuko

human (look hunter’s a clone of a human I’m counting it)

They like girls (probably straight)

Manipulated by one of the most powerful character in their world

Experienced abuse and is very clearly traumatized by it 

Not very good at acting like they’re totally fine and not at all mentally ill

Trauma is actually addressed in canon (Fshshs rip Leo) 

Goes off into the wilderness alone for a while and comes back disheveled, distressed, and generally not vibing

Can go places without being immediately ostracized due to being an actual turtle (Rip Leo)

Can’t lie to save their lives

Actually exists in other worlds besides just like…. New York

But of course, who would I be if I just stopped there??

Tommy&Hunter

fully blonde

Has had multiple panic attacks on screen

Dog person (hunter likes wolves and tommy does too)

Finds out rather abruptly that their abuser doesn’t care about them and has a mental breakdown over it

Friends are all very very traumatized

Would cry at being accepted into a family (Hunter did and you can’t tell me Tommy wouldn’t bc he really badly wants a family) 

People tend to dislike them a lot despite them not really deserving it? (Like yeah they’re a little obnoxious at times but it’s not that big of a deal)

Their animal friends always die :(((

Worrying suicidal/semi-suicidal behavior?? (Hunter was digging his own grave ok I know it was kinda played for humor but that’s messed up. I don’t even need to mention Tommy boy was fully and canonically suicidal)

Spend most of their time in another realm being somewhat? Aware of another realm but no one really going there until much later

LGBTQ rep in canon (not them specifically tho)

“Aw, they’re finally heali- oop, nope, there’s another buttload of trauma”

Zuko&Leo

Uses two swords at once

Very good sword fighter also

Tends to kinda jump into things without thinking even though they’re smart and can strategize well but somehow it works out for them in ways it really shouldn’t 

Is occasionally the voice of reason while everyone else is being dumb

Feels weak and powerless next to their super-powerful awesome sibling(s)

Main parental figure is a short Asian man with grey hair that is very powerful but tends to act silly. Also they don’t like utilizing their incredible fighting skills unless necessary bc of their Tragic Past (TM)

Tommy&Leo

Your second priority is your loved ones. Your first priority should always be committing to the bit

Humor coping mechanism 

Makes stupid decisions for the funni

Really loves their older brother who gives them a lot of guidance (to the point of almost being a parental figure)

They have a main mentor/parental/familial figure that they really love and that loves them in return but their relationship is somewhat strained due to the mentor figure’s poor mental health causing them to inadvertently hurt them

Make silly noises heehoo

Some angst but mostly funni

They have heartbreaking angst and then straight back to crack levels of comedy

Can be very overconfident in their abilities, especially when it comes to smooth-talking/scamming people

Trapped in a prison with an unbeatable foe and basically beaten to death 

They only escaped because of magic previously thought impossible 

Angst in a dark void heehoo

Younger brother energy

Antagonizes a lot of people

Allowed to swear

Upset someone who loves them because they didn’t seem to be taking a situation seriously and it ended up with a lot of hurt from both parties 

Hunter&Zuko

Father figure is the leader of an oppressive regime 

Raised from birth to believe said regime is good and helping people

Good heart under it all

Redemption arc when they figure out they’re on the wrong side (takes a while because they don’t want to think ill of their father figure even though they’re blatantly abusive)

Mental breakdown moment when they realize- was in denial for a long time before that point

Visible scars caused by abuser

Gets a new, actually nice parental figure

Big brother of their friend group 

Bulliable 

Socially awkward 

Changes outfits throughout the show to show their character growth and development

Has some moments of empathy with protagonists before actual redemption arc

Not actually the protagonist/ main focus (look, Tommy and Leo are very much main characters)

Adopted 12 y/o younger brother who is very powerful and they are very protective over him 

Little brothers’ eyes glow blue when they use their powers

Zuko&Tommy

theater nerds 

Overdramatic

Red guys

Lashes out at people who care about him 

Born naturally (as far as we know)

One-on-one duels don’t work out so great for them

They have been Everywhere. Almost every large event involves them somehow

100% actually human 

Sometimes uses swords, sometimes other stuff

Don’t do great wandering in the wilderness on their own

Talks to themselves/random animals when stressed

Anger issues anger issues anger issues

Jerk with a heart of gold (real) 

Has canonically committed many crimes and doesn’t feel guilt about most of them (some of the worse ones that really hurt people they do feel bad for tho)

They commit arson and it’s not ideal

Falls into a minor villain arc right when it seemed like they were going to get better, then realizes this isn’t who they are and confronts the person encouraging them to be violent/cruel

Leo&Hunter

Artificially created by a dramatic being with a gold horned mask and nefarious plans centered around genocide and conquest

Obsessed with a science fiction franchise and dresses up as characters from it

Is shown to enjoy wearing animal costumes once and then it’s never brought up again (Leo’s unicorn onesie and Hunter’s split-second Flapjack costume)

Teleportation 

Trauma surrounding possession

Knows a little bit of Spanish 

Acts confident and smug and cocky when in battle mode but is actually insecure and sad

also:

anyway that’s all thanks for reading

#toh #hunter toh #toh hunter #golden guard #zuko #zuko atla #avatar the last airbender #atla zuko #rottmnt leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leonardo #dsmp #dream smp #c!tommy #tommyinnit #character analysis #rottmnt character analysis #dsmp character analysis #toh character analysis #atla character analysis

[hogmilked]

would you ever buy a [insert car that other people think is cringe but you think is neat]

(yes this is an open invitation to ramble about cars)

KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH BESTIE

ok ok so yes i am going to go ramble but i’ll keep it relatively short

HERE ARE MY TOP FIVE DOGSHIT CARS I LOVE SO SO MUCH

5. Pontiac Aztek

any time you look up the ugliest cars ever made this will come up on the list and that’s fair because it is ugly as hell BUT i LOVE IT so much it came with a goddamn built in TENT. it was built on a minivan platform so this bitch could haul so much while not being overwhelmingly big. she may be ugly but she has the RANGE honey. and one person’s ugly is another’s quirky. pontiac aztek my beloved one of the only cars made after 1990 i genuinely want

4. Ford Pinto

OK OK HEAR ME OUT LISTEN. YES THIS CAR KILLED PEOPLE. YES EVERY FOR EXEC SHOULD GO TO HELL FOR KNOWING THAT AND NOT RECALLING IT FOR YEARS. BUT. they did eventually fix that pesky little exploding issue and what was left was a capable, fun, gorgeous little economy car, and models with the gas tank issue addressed have proven to be relatively reliable for 40 year old american economy cars

3. 2000s MOPAR

yeah this was a dogshit era for dodge/chrysler/jeep but i’m so deeply enamored by all these dramatically failed experiments. the dodge caliber, dodge magnum, chrysler pt cruiser, plymouth prowler, SO many bad cars that kinda bang. to me. they all have the energy of those fossil pokemon from sword and shield that clearly want nothing more than death but you can’t help but love their cheap, plastic, dogshit charm

2. Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet

Ok so technically i don’t want one per se although that’s more because i hate almost all cars made after 2000, but this thing got so much hate and like i get it but i fucking love convertible suvs and i think there should be more. yes i know the bronco and wrangler exist rn but i need more with barbie energy like this. chop the top off a rav4 and maybe i’ll consider a car payment. i won’t but like maybe

1. MALAISE ERA BABYYYYYY

Here’s some more specifics about the malaise era but this is the era of cars i’m probably the most autistic about lmao, american cars from the mid 70s to the early 80s. tldr during this time the government was cracking down on efficiency and fuel consumption so american car manufacturers had to start figuring out how to make their giant gas guzzling giants of the road more economical. on top of that imports from japan were getting popular, which were smaller, cheaper, and easier to drive. america however was stupid and full of cocaine so they kept making giant cars but just made them cheaper and less powerful. this didn’t mean smaller engines mind you, it just meant they choked the existing giant engines and made them weaker. so the cars from this era are still huge and clunky but now with more plastic and less horsepower while still weighing the same, which means they all drive like fucking trucks, even the smaller ones. eventually manufacturers either figured out how to make economy cars (though they still weren’t as efficient as japanese ones) but for a chunk of time in the late 70s american cars were ugly, underpowered, and kinda cheap. and i LOVE them. i love the brown on brown on brown, love the tackiness, love the underpowered v8 engines. malaise era my beloved ❤️❤️

#mothman speaks #mothman answers #thanks bestie for encouraging me to ramble

[raxistaicho]

Faroreswind Buddhism anon

So a while back, user faroreswind answered an anon ask from someone familiar with Buddhism. I thought it’d be interesting to respond to the ask.

Original post here.

Ordinarily I’d reblog it, but the original is ridiculously long, so my reply will also be very long and thus take up enormous space. I’ll also not be replying to everything because a good chunk is just background on Buddhism which is fascinating but not super relevant, because I’m more interested in what the anon has to say about Buddhism as it directly pertains to Three Houses.

And also, a good chunk is just assertions that I’m also not super interested in addressing.

First, just a couple bits of faroreswinds’s reply:

I know myself and other mutuals have stated that the Church in Houses is no representation of the Catholic Church, as others have insisted upon.

Ugh, right. There's not many Catholics in Japan today so the Japanese aren't very familiar with Catholicism!

I'm not saying it's a perfect representation, but the comparisons between the Church of Seiros and Christianity and Catholicism are there to be looked at:

-In ancient times, the creator god was better-known by the people, and in modern times hides from them. (God or His angels used to appear before chosen people quite frequently throughout the Old Testament. This clearly doesn't happen now.)

-The creator god once came down physically, was betrayed and murdered, and their second coming is expected by the faithful. (The general Jesus story)

-Drinking of the blood of a divine figure as a motif for communion with that figure (Rhea's ritual for inducting people into the higher offices of the Church of Seiros bears eerie similarities to the Eucharist)

-A cataclysmic flood in the backstory

-A place of torment in which sins are washed clean

-Tying the two together, a dichotomy of judgement by fire and water.

-Sothis has a very Old Testament-like do not under any circumstances turn the other cheek way of doing things. You gain support with her if you show no mercy to the rogue in Abyss after the mission to fight Kostas.

Now obviously the Church of Seiros isn't the most profound comparison to the Catholic Church, but the similarities are hard to ignore unless you think the Japanese just aren't familiar with Catholics and Christianity, which would... indicate some ignorance of history...

Now, getting to the actual anon post. Yeah, I suspect Anon will never see this, and they probably won't respond even if they do, but I've touched on the Buddhism stuff pretty frequently thanks to Fantasy Invader, so I think it's an interesting subject to tackle anyways.

Churches and “churches” in jrpgs are often just window dressing to add plausibly western details to a plausibly western high fantasy inspired setting,

I would totally agree with you when it comes to examples like Tales of Phantasia, but the Church of Seiros clearly isn't window dressing.

but even if they include crosses and saints and cathedrals the central trappings are very much not western at all and western consumers of japanese products often forget that, especially because japan has a very strong japanizing filter they run almost everything through.

I actually think IntSys is better about this than most series. For instance, the very first game had a very Greek thing going for it (all the Regalia names, Marth's name, the Pegasus Knights, Marth's lack of pants). It took until Awakening to finally get a clear-cut Wutai-like region (I wouldn't count Isaach, since there's a lot of Irishness to it), which is an impressive space of time away from the roots of the series.

Fans tend to dismiss the general plots of Fire Emblem as the cast fighting and killing an evil dragon-god but they forget a single crucial detail to that: the evil at the end reminds the characters that as long as humanity has evil in its hearts and continues to make the same mistakes over and over again, then evil will inevitably return and so the cycle of fighting and hatred will start again.

[Alm, Marth, and Celica] are heroes but they are unable to break the karmic cycle.

That's not that wide a central theme of the series, actually. Medeus and Loptous are the two villains who say that phrase before going down, and they both happen to be (former) Archanean Earth Dragons. Given their shared hatred for humankind and their shared background, it's not at all unusual that it's a philosophy they both hold to, whether through coincidence or not.

In Fire Emblem's specific case, evil doesn't arise again because humans have a cork in their chakras (had to steal a joke from Logicked, lol) but because the old generation (and sometimes even the current generation!) growing complacent and failing and the youth having to correct their failings is a recurring theme in this franchise.

The leaders of Valentia, human and dragon alike, fell to their own decays so Alm and Celica had to take them out and improve the continent, Adrah disassembled the Shield of Seals so Marth had to restore it, ALL the leaders at the start of Mystery of the Emblem fail in various ways, Marth included, the old generation in Genealogy grew corrupt, Sigurd's generation failed to stop them or were party to their failings, and Seliph's had to right the wrongs.

Duty to the people and what it means to fail that charge, leaving the young to take it up anew, is a central theme of this series.

Lastly, "As Long as There is Evil" is a trope. That's how well-known it is. We humans are very aware of our own failings and how we cause trouble for ourselves.

Anon then goes into Fates for a little bit, and I just wanted to correct a point:

Anankos enjoyed both heavenly and earthly pleasures but being steeped in them too long made him decay, make costly mistakes that only made him more angry and paranoid instead of being able to reflect on them, and in the end became a creature of death and violence and discord who could only be released through defeat.

Anon seems to be suggesting that Anankos became a hedonist and grew corrupt through that, but this is absolutely not the case if that was the intended point. Anankos fell to madness through a biological imperative, not by any moral failure on his part or because his chakras were clogged. This is a particularly damning accusation to hurl at his feet since Anankos foresaw his own madness and set up countermeasures against himself in the past. Azura's pendant was created from his dragonstone, and Lost in Thoughts All Alone was written by him to restrain his power.

Houses especially has the basis of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, but Byleth’s personal class Nirvana, confirms also the basis for Silver Snow and the dual themes that would come better if Intsys was a more competent writer:

Byleth gets their Enlightened One class in all routes, though. It's also interesting to question who gives them the title Enlightened One.

Is it an omnipresent narrator who knows Byleth is enlightened? Except that wouldn't make any sense, given Byleth doesn't act very differently or more enlightened after fusing with Sothis. You can still choose to portray them as a dipwad when the opportunities present themselves.

Or maybe it's Rhea calling Byleth the Enlightened One because she thinks she's succeeded and Sothis is coming back any second now? I find the latter more believable.

Long paragraph coming up because there's a lot to unpack:

Byleth starts out in the realm of animals, it’s reflecting by their title of Ashen Demon and their description of being emotionless killing machines before Garreg Mach. They don’t care about much, they only focus on their immediate needs like eating and resting and whats immediately in front of them, they have no curiosity or inner awareness of themselves and their world. It is coming to the monastery that they become exposed to positive influences that put them on the correct path, they learn structure and good morals and to care for others and the game says so.

No. This is such a fractally wrong reading of Byleth's character progression that it's astounding.

So firstly, the point on Byleth starting off in the realm of animals.

Treehouse fucked it up, because of course they did, but during the opening of the game, when Sothis asks what Byleth is, she'll only accept the answer that Byleth is human.

(Source for the first, and for the second)

This is the creator goddess herself, whom fusion to allegedly represents Byleth becoming enlightened, and she's telling Byleth that they're human. As I've said in the past, the central conflict within Byleth is the dichotomy between their human and supernatural aspects, and here Sothis is telling Byleth to accept and embrace their humanity and not claim to be a ghost or an evil god.

The whole point behind Byleth's initial state is that they do care and they do have their own thoughts, but they're rendered supernaturally stoic due to what Rhea did to them and have difficulties expressing themselves or forging bonds with others. When Edelgard is in danger at Kostas's hands, Byleth throws themselves before his axe. When considering the three house leaders, Byleth peers straight through their exteriors and gleans the people they are beneath (contrast this against our lovable bimbo/himbo Shez only noticing the exterior). Byleth expresses curiosity for their students and those around them very early in the story.

Byleth is not a cold individual, heedless of the world around them and only concerned with their immediate biological needs. Indeed, Byleth is an empathic, perceptive, and thoughtful, they just have difficulties expressing it.

And it is not the teachings of the Church of Seiros that helps them improve and open up, but their bonds with their students. The game is explicit about this.

The agarthans were humans who became greedy and waged war on each other to accumulate wealth and power

I have no idea where you're getting this from. Rhea (not exactly the most reliable source...) claims humanity turned their backs on Sothis's teachings and started up wars, but we never learn what they were fighting over, or whether it was even the Agarthans who struck first.

and the goddess Sothis decided to discipline them, but then agarthans proved they were (ironically) acting like beasts by deciding that their greed was more important. They could not stand being contradicted and being told that their acts were wrong.

Sothis flooded all of Fodlan to stop them (it seems like this would have also drowned all the world, but we have no way to be sure of that). Unless literally every human living on the surface of Fodlan were evil and warring against each other, this is a very Sodom and Gomorrah-like case of an extreme over-punishment of mankind's follies.

So they plotted against heaven and chose to condemn themselves to hell (they live underground in the darkness, Shambhala is supposed to be the name of a heavenly paradise but instead they built it underground to continue their evil away from the eyes of heavens)

...No. Shambhala's original purpose is unclear, but what Shambhala became was a last refuge as Sothis drowned the surface of Fodlan beneath the ocean waters. The Agarthans didn't hide there to connive against Sothis in the shadows, they did it to survive. It's essentially a bunker. Lorenz even notes the air inside Shambhala is stale, suggesting it's air-tight to keep the flood waters out.

Edelgard acts out of ignorance like an animal or common beast, her vision cannot see past her own immediate desires and so she acts on that ignorance and her own selfishness.

Oh boy, "Edelgard doesn't know the truth of Fodlan," again, it never gets old! Except it did. Ages ago.

Edelgard's immediate desire is to lock herself in her room eating sweets. Starting a war that tears at her is the opposite of selfishness.

But what condemns her to hell, what turns her into an evil demon instead of remaining a selfish yet innocent animal is that she turns away from many people imploring her to listen to them and that her actions are wrong and that she is causing suffering.

The only person I can think of who implores Edelgard to stop is Dimitri late in Azure Moon. Rhea mostly just declares she'll kill Edelgard in the most gruesome way possible, and Seteth and Claude urge her to surrender at the last moment.

Now Byleth and especially Silver Snow has shown they rose to being qualified by the good influence of the church and its teaching (even if the game doesn’t show much about those teaching but o well)

Right, because the teachings aren't narratively important. The church is a false religion created by Rhea to keep control and peace over Fodlan until she could resurrect Sothis. Byleth is not improved as a person through following the moral teachings of the church, but through connecting to other people, predominantly their students.

But especially, because the realm of asuras and beasts represent laziness, easy temptations, ignorance and immediate gratification opposed to discipline, hard work, introspection, and renunciation, it makes it more significant when byleth decides to sever ties with her when she reveals that she has not been an innocent student but in fact the flame emperor responsible for the many evil deeds along with the cooperation from agarthans.

So essentially, because Edelgard's fallen onto the wrong path and is spreading pain to others, Byleth should abandon and stop her.

So what about Azure Moon, then? Over the time skip, Dimitri has fallen onto the wrong path, abuses Byleth and his former friends at every turn, spreads pain to those around him, and is leading them on a pointless suicide march, yet Byleth is rewarded for staying at his side and trying to help him by eventually getting through to him despite Dimitri demonstrating no signs of response until the very last moment. If abandoning a student on a wrong path is the ideal way, Byleth should also turn on Dimitri and be "punished" if they don't.

The act of renouncing such ties in order to enact justice and follow the correct path is what immediately qualifies Byleth to Nirvana and why they keep their divine traits on every path except Crimson Flower (where in Crimson Flower, killing Rhea, their final and most egregious act of violence against heavenly principles, condemns them to losing their divinity and turning back into the Ashen Demon, they lost themselves to the temptations and ignorance represented by Edelgard,

How is killing Rhea in that context a bad thing? By that point, Rhea's fallen so far into paranoia and madness that she'd rather set Fhirdiad on fire, killing every man, woman, and child living inside it, rather than accept a peaceful surrender.

Also, Byleth does not lose divine favor or whatever by killing Rhea: they are still capable of S-support Sothis (the scene even has a specific provision for Crimson Flower) during which Sothis reaffirms her adoration for Byleth.

Crimson Flower is the only route in which Byleth embraces their humanity, as Sothis told them to in the opening minutes of the game.

safflowers are used to dye the robes of monks but red spiders lilies grow on the banks of the river of the dead).

I think you just accidentallied your sentence there. Also, Safflowers have a positive connotation: Safflowers symbolize “good luck and happiness”. In folklore they were thought to be useful for attracting love or marriage. And what do red spider lillies have to do with Edelgard? Is it because they're a red flower?

Because they are not the Buddha but are close to reaching enlightenment they achieve a very high position in Buddhism, which is staying in the human realm as a guide in order to help others on the correct path as well and is righteous.

Heh, what'd I say about Edelgard detractors stealing our arguments?

This is also why i have many more issues with Shez than I do Byleth actually, maybe Byleth is silent but they have their own path to follow. Shez has no path and I’m not even sure what they are supposed to represent. Their personal class is asura, often clashing with devas and representing lack of reflection and selfishness and gratification and violence like I said before, but I can’t find anything in Shez story that actually says anything about that or their preferences and choices.

It's almost like the Buddhism symbolism has a habit of just being window dressing without much meaning.

Two out of three times they stray from the correct path and Rhea’s death should mean a violation of dharma because the agarthans have won, but I saw nothing in the game about immediate consequences of that violation or the causing of suffering Shez incorrect paths are causing.

That's because they don't win. They might arguably win in Golden Wildfire provided you kill Byleth because then Sothis is dead and Thales lives, but Scarlet Blaze ends with both Rhea and Thales presumed dead, or at the very least badly hurt and with their respective organizations routed and disorganized.

I've said it before, but Thales's plan doesn't end with Rhea's death. It ends with the surface Fodlanders wiped out and Fodlan back under Agarthan control. He doesn't get this in Crimson Flower or Scarlet Blaze.

So yeah, that's my thoughts on the Buddhism symbolism. Again, I don't expect the anon to read this or even reply, but I was interested in responding anyways. Later!

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem three hopes #Edelgard von Hresvelg #edelgard positive #edelgard discourse #faroreswinds #buddhism

[sleepydrabbles]

My frustration with most criticism leveled at manga artists and authors is that people end up addressing symptoms and not causes.

When I was 11 or 12, I wanted to be a manga artist. Part of this particular fixation meant reading a lot of manga and trying to imitate the styles— something you can still see in my art. I came across a manga called Bakuman that I would really recommend, because it gave me a better understanding of why manga has a bigger tendency to have huge plot holes, fucked up character development, and flat characters when compared to, say… published novels. I’ll need to dig it up sometime so I can show y’all specific stuff but for now I’ll work from memory… I need to get these thoughts down.

Most manga are published through weekly magazines, and the artists are expected to come up with a chapter a week. I’ve seen some shifts lately due to the work-related stress and injuries that have abounded as a consequence but that is where things started, and that meant manga artists had to come up with SOMETHING on a schedule, no matter how good or bad it was. (So yeah, that terrible pandering filler chapter/arc was probably a mangaka with a hell of a block.)

Then, within the magazine, there are frequent checks and polls to measure popularity— if a manga isn’t popular enough, it gets cut, whether or not it was finished. (Yeah, that manga you loved that had a really sudden and terrible ending? Probably more niche than you realized.)

Contrast this with traditional publishing (as I saw someone here doing, comparing Harry Potter to My Hero Academia): authors take years to write, and then they have to find an editor, and even if the whole story is published in segments they have at least a year between those segments to plan, write, and edit. NaNoWriMo winners have demonstrated that the writing phase can be finished in a month or two— the rest of the effort goes to editing.

Manga artists have an editor, sure, but that editor is on the same deadline. Worst-case scenario they get a day or two to read over the chapter.

Novels also tend to remain popular enough not to have to deal with getting cut— and most novelists will just finish in self-publishing if their publisher decides to terminate their contract. Manga artists simply move to the next idea, from what I’ve seen.

This leads to a system where, I kid you not, most artists are just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. They get an idea, it gets dashed out, and then they see what happens. I can’t tell you how many artists I’ve seen express genuine surprise at the popularity of their ideas, and I think it’s just because that idea was one in maybe five or six that got submitted to the magazine that round. They have to figure it out as they go, and what does that mean? Plot holes.

And if a manga is popular enough, the expectation is that the manga artist will continue to make it… and make it… and make it. My dad joked once that you’ll always find another villain behind the latest big bad with these types of series, because the goal is not to create a cohesive story but to maintain audience attention as long as possible. My Hero may be in the middle of a final battle, but who knows whether AFO will actually turn out to be the ultimate villain— while Voldemort was clearly the problem and remained the problem for the entire Harry Potter series. (I’m working with the comparison I saw— I have some personal issues with JKR as an artist and a person that I won’t get into here.)

You see where I’m going with this, right? I sure hope so.

Learning that, as a manga artist, I would be expected to continue creating what gets popular no matter how I felt about it— that was what tanked my desire to become a manga artist. And I love manga to death, but I’ve also learned not to expect much of it because the system itself is designed in such a way that only the most batshit insane series with wild twists and turns and crazy unrealistic characters will succeed. Think about Naruto, Bleach, My Hero, ONE PIECE, etc. it’s a miracle there’s a plot line there at all.

Unfortunately, some people hold these manga to the same standard as Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Steelheart, Mistborn, etc. And as long as they do so, they’re going to be disappointed, because the manga publishing world is basically a reflection of the internet influencer world— “create till you drop and everyone forgets your name” is the goal of the game. Until we see some kickback against that system, you’re not going to see well-developed manga that are also popular.

If you do find one, congratulations! Cherish it. The mangaka probably had to kick a few shins to keep it true to their vision.

#manga #bnha critical #manga critical #anime #anime and manga #systematic issues #manga vs. novels #I can enjoy manga #because I expect manga to be shit #but I know fandom exploration will be great #manga artists have great ideas #the system ruins those ideas #fans can explore those ideas on their own #so of course fanwork has more depth #fix the system or lower your expectations… a lot

[cosplayingwitch]

Three Drinks, Two Texts, and a Phone Number

Here we go! My first new fic since December! This is for @make-me-imagine 's 5th Anniversary Challenge

Pairing: Malcolm Bright x gn!reader (I reread it to double check, but if you spot any runaway pronouns please let me know)

Prompt: “Meet up for a blind date and getting along very well, only to realize halfway through you met up with the wrong person on accident.”

Length: just over 1200 words

Warnings: the reader does do a bit of drinking in this, and maybe mild language warning?

A/N: This is my first time writing in this fandom! I've wanted to write for this for awhile, but haven't gotten around to it. I also messed up with the prompt a bit, so that probably disqualifies me. But I wrote it anyway!

Three Drinks, Two Texts, and a Phone Number

You’d just gotten off work when your best friend called with an usual question.

“You’re single, right? Please tell me you are.”

“Ummm, yeah?” They’d been by your side after your most recent, and rather painful, breakup, so they had to have known this.

“And you still owe me for getting you an advance copy of that book?” You couldn’t lie, having a friend with a job at a bookstore had its perks.

“You’ve held that over my head since you did. Let me guess, you finally figured out how you want to cash in that favor?”

God, you hope it’s not something bad. Or illegal.

“You’re going on a date tomorrow night. Consider it a gift.”

“What?” You’re a little taken aback. “No.”

“You owe me. I’m not saying you have to marry the man, just go out with him. One date won’t kill you. Look at it this way, you’re getting a free meal out of this too.”

“If I do go, which is a big if, can I ask who I’m going on this date with?” You question, still a little hesitant.

“That would ruin the surprise, it’s called a blind date for a reason. And you are going, even if it means I have to drag you to the restaurant myself.” You knew she was being sarcastic, but something also told you that there was a bit of truth in that.

Eh, what the hell. Why not.

As you straighten your shirt, you can’t help but wonder if you’re overdressed for this.

“That’s nonsense. You’re still used to the work-from-home sweatpants. This is absolutely perfect for a date at a fancy restaurant.” Your best friend continued to babble over the video call, but nothing really stuck. You were busy being stuck in your own head.

*ding*

The sound of your phone jolted you back into reality.

“Okay. I sent you the address of the restaurant. Remember, 6 PM. No later.”

—-------

You arrive at the restaurant a little early, choosing to wait in the lobby than take up a table before whoever your date was showed up.

But that was exactly the problem. He never seemed to show up. You waited until 7 before giving up and asking the hostess if there were any seats available at the bar. Sitting down, you checked your phone in case your friend texted you that something happened to your date.

No text. You managed to get stood up by a blind date. 

“Date gone bad?” The man to your left asked.

“How’d you know?”

“You’re sitting in the bar of a fancy restaurant, clearly overdressed for a bar, constantly checking your phone.” He continued on, “Plus, I have yet to see you do anything but scowl at that phone you keep checking and order what I assume is a very strong drink.”

“So you know my story then. What about you? Do you just wait for sad girls to show up at the bar so you can hit on them?”

He made a bit of a face. “Annual mother’s day gift. She hates that I’m not in a relationship, so every year I let her set me up on a date. This one never showed.”

“Not exactly the same as me, but similar enough.” You explained to him. “Best friend set me up with this ‘blind date’ disaster. So here’s to being stood up by strangers.” You raise your glass in his direction. 

“At least we can still tell our attempted matchmakers that we met someone for drinks.” You say as you finish your drink. “You know, we’ve been sitting here complaining for a while now and I still don’t know your name.”

“Malcolm Bright. You?”

“y/n. Nice to officially meet you. What do you do for a living?”

“I mostly work with the police, but I’m not actually a cop or anything. Just a consultant.”

Starting on your second drink, you tell him about your job. Your very boring, same shit different day, type job. He acted interested, but not even you were interested in your job.

“I know it’s boring, but it’s nice while I finish grad school. Then I’ll have something interesting to say on first dates.”

A number of other topics came up in conversation that night.You mentioned that you’d always wanted to try roller derby, to which he was able to randomly recite the very high injury potential/rate.

“Yeah, I know. But it’d still be fun to try, right?”

Malcolm  mentioned his weapons collection, then got absolutely giddy when you asked further questions on it.

“Most people find my collection strange or unsettling. I usually don’t tell people I’ve just met, but what the hell tonight.” He announced to the bar, raising his glass and prompting you to raise yours as well.

Yeah. What the hell indeed, you think, finishing your drink and ordering a third. You never drink this much, but getting stood up by a blind date seemed as good of a reason as any.

It was that exact same attitude, and possibly the drinks, that led you to write your number down before you left. Handing it to him as you got up from the bar, you smirked.

“This was nice. Text me sometime. Maybe we could go on, you know, an actual date?”

Realizing you’d just given a stranger your number and all but asked him on a date, you turn and leave before he can say anything. After all, if he did have something to say, he did have your number now.

—-----

You woke up with the worst headache you’d had in years. How many drinks did you have last night?

As usual, the first thing you did was look at your phone. There were two text messages.

One from your best friend

“WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU LAST NIGHT?”

And one from a number you didn’t know

“Tonight was nice. Dinner on Saturday?”

“Oh, and this is Malcolm by the way. The guy you gave your number to at the bar last night.”

You start replying to your friend

“What do you mean? I was at the restaurant you gave me the address to. When whoever it was didn’t show up within an hour, I decided to sit at the bar and order some drinks.”

“Shit. I mixed two of the numbers in the address. Shit. Now Steve is pissed at me.”

“STEVE? YOU SET ME UP WITH YOUR ASSHOLE COWORKER?”

Now you were actually thankful you were sort of stood up. That guy was a piece of work. You’d picked  your friend up from work all of twice, but apparently he’d been obsessed with you since.

“Yeah. You know the concert I have tickets for in three weeks? My boss decided to schedule me that night. Steve told me he’d trade shifts with me if I set him up on a date with him.”

You couldn’t deal with that right now. Just couldn’t. So, rather than letting your temper get the best of you and saying something you know you’ll regret, you take a deep breath and turn to the other pair of texts. And say something you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t regret.

“Sounds wonderful. Same place, just with actual food this time?”

“And at least this time we both know what we’re headed into, right? No more surprises?”

“I can’t promise there’ll be no surprises, but yeah.”

The next deep breath you took wasn’t in trying to suppress your anger, but in trying to quell the butterflies quickly forming in your stomach. 

You can’t wait for Saturday.

#meraswritingchallenge #fan fiction #malcolm bright x reader #Prodigal Son fan fiction #fan fic #writing challenge #malcolm bright #not a new fandom #just the first time writing for it #not my favorite thing I've written #will eventually be posted to ao3 too #tw: drinking