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alirhi · 3 years

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10 Sebastian roles as boyfriends

Because... I'm bored and I feel like it. 😂 Probably some spoilers for, like... everything? So yeah... That.

Putting it under here for easy scrolling:

10: Chase Collins

Who doesn't love a goofball? In the first half of the movie, Chase is basically perfect. He's sweet, funny, not all caught up in his ego, and actually pays attention to what the girls around him are saying, not just to what he wants to hear. If not for the whole... it was all an act to get close to Caleb and try to steal his magic thing, Chase would actually be a damn good high school boyfriend. He's adorable and would be a fun date, but he's also only 18 so best not to start making long-term plans lol. Also, y'know... the whole psycho revenge/power grab thing.

9 Jack Benjamin

Y'all. Y'all. Words cannot describe how much I love Jack. Pretty sure I've made this clear. As a person/character in general, he's absolutely in my Top 3 - not just of Sebastian's characters, but any character ever. ❤ But as a boyfriend? Boy's got baggage. It's what makes me so protective of him, but seeing as how he's trapped in the closet thanks to his overbearing homophobic family and the insane expectations heaped on him, as the show left him, he can't handle an honest relationship. He's too easily influenced by all the wrong people, poor babe.

8 Chris (Destroyer)

On paper, undercover cop sounds cool and exciting, but even if you ignore the fact that he, y'know, dies... Chris got in too deep and kinda lost the mission, so to speak. Best case scenario, you're his sexy partner and in on it all with him and end up on the lam for the rest of your lives. Worst case, this man lies for a living, so can you even trust him? And... yeah. The whole dead thing. Chris is hot af but getting involved with him is a recipe for disaster.

7 Ben

Min and Hathor have mercy, I love Ben! He's smart, he's snarky, he's caring and loyal... he's an absolute disaster. He's another one who seems allergic to honesty, until his lying and avoiding nearly kill his girlfriend. Not exactly relationship goals lol. Everything before totally was, though! Ben's adorable, and I love how he stayed up all night to protect his girlfriend (from a ghost/demon thing... with a baseball bat. I said he was smart, not perfect, okay? XD points for effort lol)

6 Mickey Henry

I. LOVE. MICKEY. Oml I love Mickey. He's a spazz and - even more so than Ben - an absolute disaster of a human being, but I love him. Pros for dating Mickey Henry: he's fun, he's carefree, he'll cook for you even though he's kinda bad at it lol, he loves his son and wants to be a good dad, he wants his partner to be happy and to love life as much as he does. Cons, and the reason he's not higher on the list: He's a pushover; easily influenced by the toxic people in his life, and it gets him into a lot of trouble. Being easily influenced by toxic dumpster fire of a human being Chloe almost lost him the partial custody of his son that he barely even had. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he's a complete man-child, and dating him would often feel more like raising him.

5 Frank "Suffer Buddy"

Come on! You know he and Mickey had to be back-to-back - they're practically the same character! 😂 Frank is Mickey... slightly more grown up. He's still a disaster, but he's respectful of boundaries, he's caring, he's funny in a dry, witty way that I just adore, and hoo lordy that man is a giver! 🥴🥵 Honestly, if he didn't smoke and didn't ditch Daphne in the middle of a party hours away from everything familiar to her surrounded by strangers to go do drugs, I'd call Frank perfect. He listened, he respected her wishes, he tried to keep some distance between them when he found out she'd gone on a date with his best friend (it failed utterly and brought us to the "damn that man's good with his mouth" portion of the movie lmao but still)... I don't have a whole lot of experience with men who actually give a shit, okay? So Frank is like a goddamn unicorn to me lmao. But that drug thing... That keeps him at the bottom of the Top 5 for me. Sorry, bb

4 Bucky

I can already hear everyone on here raging at me for placing Bucky so low on this list, but hear me out: I love this man. I love all four iterations of this man. Flirty 40s Bucky was a doll (fun date, not commitment material). Post-POW camp 40s Bucky had a fire to him that set me on fire. The Winter Soldier can choke me any damn day. Unf. And TFATWS Bucky... Oh, lady above, 2023 Bucky is a gem! He's sweet, snarky, and broken. He feels utterly, wretchedly alone in the world, and everyone around him, including his only friend, is telling him to "man up" and "make amends" for shit that was never his fault to begin with, rather than helping him come to terms with all that he's suffered and all that he's survived. Bucky needs and deserves love. A relationship with him would be so solid, if he found the right person... But it would take a fuck ton of work. He needs someone strong, patient, and more stubborn than he is to prod him until he finds a better therapist and actually opens up, and to keep him on track because even good therapy comes with homework. He does have to "do the work," Sam was right about that much, but he was way off base with what that "work" is. Bucky needs help and understanding, and he would be an amazing boyfriend... if he found someone with the strength to help him weather his nightmares and flashbacks, and help pull him out of this PTSD pit he's been in since 1943.

3 Chris Beck

Big brains turn me on, okay? 😂This man is an astronaut and a surgeon! Yes, please! Come here, you sexy genius! He's smart, he's funny - pretty sure Sebastian is incapable of playing anyone who's not delightfully snarky lol. He's pragmatic when he needs to be but there's also nothing he wouldn't do or risk for the ones he loves. This man is husband material and I cannot be convinced otherwise! So why isn't he #1? Cuz of the whole... spending years in space, thing. Super cool job and I'd be his biggest fan on the ground, but god damn, I would miss him while he's away!

2 TJ Hammond

Look, I'm gender fluid and he's a little bit bi 😂😂😂 Let me have my fantasy, okay? TJ's definitely got a lot of shit to work through, but love brings out the best in him. Before that fucking closeted shitbag broke his heart and stomped on it for good measure, TJ was clean and sober for months, he was happy, he was playing piano again, he was pulling himself together. Not only would he be an amazing boyfriend, but his partner would get the extra joy of getting to watch their love and devotion to him be the thing that saves this beautiful man's life. It's not healthy overall to tie your self worth and will to live to a relationship, but if he found the right person who would be there for him through all of life's shit and stick it out, I think he'd be okay. Even after his lowest point and without the support of his family, TJ still had a dream and he still chased it. He's not just the sweetest person to ever grace our screens, but he's ambitious and business-savvy, too. Keep him off drugs and watch this man take over the world, I'm telling you!

So why is TJ only #2? Well, besides the fact that he's like 99% gay and I have no bits he'd be interested in lmao, there's also the fact that this guy owns my heart:

1 Will Franklyn

And not just because we get to see him wet and mostly naked lol. Will is fucking perfect. I would die for this man... because he's already shown that he would die for his love. He almost fucking did, and they weren't even together yet! He's smart and very aware, he's a writer so we'd get to bond/geek out over books together, he's not all full of himself (self-deprecating humor ftw!) and he's willing to help a total stranger despite actual mortal peril, just because it's the right thing to do. Fierce, intelligent, sassy, strong-willed, and a flawless moral compass? YESYESYESYESYES! Forget boyfriend - let me MARRY this man! 😍🥰

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blahblahspeaks · 4 years

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give me love ~ matsuwaka issei

the haikyuu community has done a lot for me and one of them is introducing my newfound obsession for matsukawa

deadass want a poly relationship with him and hanamaki but that’s a conversation for another day 💖

anywho, i’ve been seeing a lot of hard dom issei but i really want a soft headcannon/blurb for him because i’m feeling sad and i need a strong man to hug me

i hated the blurb but i loved it enough to include it into the final upload.

hope you enjoy! @karasunosimp

general:

issei is a well rounded guy. very respectable and respected. his friends love him and when he speaks highly of you, they have the same respect for you as well.

yes the type to ask you “you good?” randomly.

doing homework: “you good?”

passes by you in the hall: “you okay?”

random text in the middle of practice: “let me know if you’re feeling alright.”

literally eating next to him: “everything alright?”

he cares for you a lot.

yes, he says some dumb shit. yes, he may do something that pisses you off, but he always makes up for it. whether it’s by taking you ima. date, kissing you until you can’t breathe or by making more effort to come see you in the times he’s not at practice.

to me, he is the embodiment of “idk, what do you want to do?” and is always down to abide by your plans. if he wants to do something, he’ll ask you in advance to make sure you’re cool with it.

pre-dating:

you probably met him through hanamaki. you were just looking to expand your friend group and just meet new people who attended seijoh as you. when you saw him, you just instantly connected with the guy! instantly!

even though you’re in a group chat with him and hanamaki, he’d text you privately just to share a couple of chats with you. you two probably share a few inside jokes that makes hanamaki feel left out, but you two enjoy the jokes.

he feels happy when he catches you in the bleachers of their games. sure you were there to support your school, but he couldn’t help the pride sensation bubbling inside of him as he knew you were cheering a little louder for him.

he’s your definition of perfect!!

a little rough around the edges but has a heart of pure fucking gold.

his carefree attitude about everything is what caught your attention! he was mostly cool and level headed, ignoring the snarky remarks his friends say to him and firing back something just as hurtful.

confessions:

what started as an innocent crush on issei ended up developing into a relationship neither of you saw coming.

how he confessed? he was walking you home after a practice match and his hands were shoved into his track pants, keeping his eyes trained on his feet. when you ask him what’s wrong, you loop one of your arms through his and he malfunctions. looks at you with red cheeks, his usual lazy face was showing signs of confusion and embarrassment. suddenly stops walking and turns towards you. before you can ask what’s happening, this man blurts out the confession he has been practicing for WEEKS. you love it and decide to date from then on.

honeymoon phase:

cute relationship, everyone loves you.

i can see him being the jealous type!

rip oikawa if he catches him standing too close to you or finding his eyes wandering elsewhere.

if you two are in class before it starts, he’ll be leaning on one of the desks with you in between his legs. or he’ll be sitting in the seat and have you placed on his lap.

pda? he’s alright with it. he’s not really obsessed with showing the world that you’re his s/o but he will remind everyone by pulling you close to him by your waist. if you’re not okay with it, he completely understands and opts for hand holding or a gentle hand on your lower back when standing near you.

if you’re feeling a bit under the weather, he will immediately come over and take care of you. i’m talking, medication, your favorite snacks, a few of his hoodies, maybe a movie or two. will stay over with you the whole day, doing his best to cheer you up.

the same thing applies if you are feeling sad. he’s not the super talkative type but whenever you’re with him, you can feel this big comforting aura around him. never forces you to open up about your feelings, but if it gets to the point where you’re harming yourself, physically or mentally, he will pull you aside and talk to you.

if you want to share something about your day, he’ll listen (for the most part).

if you’re excited by something, he’ll stare at your eyes and smile at how cute you are so riled up about this one thing.

if you’re chatting about something random, this man will deadass be texting hanamaki and responds to you with “damn, fr?”

first date: takes you to tokyo and spends the entire day with you visiting some of your favorite anime studios <3

terms of endearment: (idk what else to name this)

he is a lazy kisser, but he is very skilled with his hands. will cup your cheeks, place hand behind your neck, squeeze your hips, etc. when he gets into the mood, he’ll deepen the kiss and transition into a heavy makeout.

i imagine him being a “babe” kind of dude.

“babe, let’s go eat.”

“babe, wanna go watch a movie this weekend?”

he loves it when you call him sweeter nicknames! call him “my love” or “sweet boy” or anything else that is endearing and he will melt!

＾＾

“babe?” issei called out, his eyes finally lifting from his phone to look at the door that led to the bathroom. “almost done in there? movie’s about to start,” he adds, glancing at the time on his phone screen.

“yeah, i’ll be out in a second,” you responded, placing the lid back on your face moisturizer. after securing the jar, you slid it back into its place in your medicine cabinet before shutting the small door.

your hands gently rubbbed across the surface of your skin, working in any last minute product before you deemed yourself ready. with a final nod, you flipped the light switch off and you exited the bathroom to join your lovely boyfriend who was relaxing under the sheets.

he flashed you a small smile, arms open in invitation. you didn’t waste a single second when you crossed over and situated yourself under the blanket only to scoot in next to him. “sorry for taking so long,” you said, immediately relaxing under his hold when his arms found themselves circling around you.

issei only hummed and leaned down to kiss your cheek softly, but he stopped in his movements to sniff your cheek. you furrowed your eyebrows when you heard the obvious sniffing noise, trying to pull away from him, but he only held you closer.

“what, you creep?” you frowned.

“your face smells good. what is that?” he asked, his nose still obnoxiously pressed against your cheek to sniff the slight fragrance from your skincare products.

“it’s called skincare, and you would be able to smell it all the time if you’d join me,” you grumbled, deciding to let your weird boyfriend continue his actions. if you weren’t annoyed, you definelty found this boy an interesting case to say the least.

“that takes too long,” issei stated, pulling away slightly to peck your cheek before he releasing you slightly from his hold. “plus, isn’t the face wash thing enough?” his lazy brown eyes found yours in the dim lighting of your bedroom, expressing his appreciation for you silently.

“it’s something, i’ll admit. but one day you’re gonna have to start usi—” he cut you off with a gentle peck of your lips before glancing over at the tv. the opening credits of the movie were starting and issei was not interested in missing it. even though you knew he wasn’t doing it to be mean, he probably was happy to get out of that conversation despite starting it.

“god, you’re something else.”

“love you too babe~”

#god i love this man #i wanna live that y/n life #issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa boyfriend #matsukawa headcanons #haikyuu matsukawa #hq matsukawa #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!

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jewish-space-laser · 4 years

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Miles & Black Coffee - Part One

“When you’re on a golden sea, You don’t need no memory, Just a place to call your own, As we drift into the zone...”

-Island in the Sun by Weezer

Hello, and welcome to part one of M&BC! She’s split up into parts, a day late, and a bit rusty... but she’s here! It’ll be my first new piece of writing since I rejoined tumblr, so it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Thank you to Kate @andwhenshesays, Anne @oh-honey-styles, and Anna @for-fucks-sake-h for organizing this entire challenge, you’ve brought so much joy to our little tumblr community. We love you all dearly ♥️ (4.5k words)

xoxoxox Tile

Warnings: mild drinking, mild drug use (just weed)

You and Harry would never be friends. You were up and down, night and day, oil and water. You just didn’t mesh. He was your roommate’s insufferable older brother, and that is all he would ever be. Well, at least that’s what you thought before….

the one with campfire conversations, cabin getaways, and enemies that were never really enemies after all.

MONDAY

Pine trees and cornfields flew by in a blur as you stared out the window of your roommate’s minivan. Every once in a while, there’d be a pasture of cows or a horse ranch. It had been exciting at first, but now you were just bored.

“How much longer?” You called over the music, trying to keep the whine from your voice. It had been hours since you left your apartment this morning, and you’d only stopped once to stretch your legs and take a bathroom break.

“The GPS says we still have an hour and a half to go,” Callie groaned, stepping a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Normally, you loved road trips, but this particular drive was more cramped than you’d bargained for. There were seven girls packed into the van, and you’d been unfortunate enough to get squished into the backseat with your twin sister and her girlfriend, who hadn’t stopped with the obnoxious PDA since the car got on the freeway.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to will away your nauseating carsickness. This week had been marked into your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you let this god-awful car ride ruin it for you.

Callie, your college roommate, had a cabin in northern Wisconsin that she’d been raving about for years. She’d been going there with her family for decades, every summer since pre-school, she’d said. According to her, it was a beautiful property, equipped with a private lakeside beach, fire pit, and a full bar.

It was going to be the perfect getaway. You and Callie had rounded up all of your girlfriends, packed all of the essentials for a spa night, junk food, board games, movies. You’d packed four swimsuits just in case; the weather forecast looked fantastic, high seventies and low eighties all week long.

It was going to be the perfect vacation. Well, almost perfect.

Harry was going to be there.

Harry, the constant thorn in your side. Harry, Callie’s older brother. Harry, the one who eats all of your food whenever he visits. Harry, the one who constantly picked fights with you. You and him had never gotten along, not even for a second.

There wasn’t a single person alive who got on your nerves more than he did. Generally, you got along with most people, but Harry was the exception to the rule. You couldn’t seem to shake him off.

You weren’t about to let him ruin this trip, though. There were going to be fourteen people staying at the cabin, so it should be a piece of cake to avoid him for a week; there were plenty of other people to interact with. And even if you couldn’t avoid him, you were going to let his inevitable snarky comments roll off of your back. Well, you’d try to, at least.

Perhaps that’s what annoyed you most about him, the reaction you’d have from the smallest fight. With anyone else, it was water under the bridge… with Harry, you thought about it for days afterwards, thinking of better comebacks you should’ve said or ways you could have changed your schedule to steer clear of him altogether. He made your skin prickle with irritation, and turned you into somebody you didn’t like very much.

It had been months since you’d seen him, not that you’d been keeping track. He typically visits Callie a few times a semester, but his senior year was more intense than he had anticipated, according to his sister. He just couldn’t spare the two hour drive from his university to yours.

But now it was summertime. Gone were the papers, projects, and responsibilities… it was finally time to relax and have fun. You only had one year of college left before graduation, so you and your friends wanted to make the most of it. Harry and his friends had just graduated, so they were at the cabin for their last hurrah before real life kicked in.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were excited that Harry was bringing some of his frat brothers along. You and your ex had just ended things recently, and you were finally feeling ready to get back into the dating game. Being trapped in a cabin with a handful of cute guys felt like a dream.

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Callie slowed the car down and turned onto a dirt road. The other girls in the car started desperately peering out the window to get a glimpse of the lake and surrounding forest.

The moment the cabin came into view, your jaw dropped. You knew Callie’s parents were loaded, but this hardly looked like the rustic getaway you were expecting. There were three buildings, each labelled with a birch bark sign. Two speedboats and a pontoon were docked at the beach, inflatable tubes and paddleboards littered around the sand nearby.

It wasn’t until Callie parked and shut off the engine that you heard a heavy bass thrum coming from the building marked MAIN CABIN. The other two buildings were labelled GUEST CABIN and SHOWER HOUSE. You were snapped out of it when Olivia and Jane, who had been sitting in the middle bucket seats, swung their sliding doors open and practically fell onto the ground.

“I don’t think I remember how to walk normally,” Charlie, a girl from your art history class, groaned, “like, we were sitting in that car for so long….”

“Oh, shush,” your sister, Morgan, scoffed, “at least you got to sit up front. I was crammed into the back between these two.”

Both you and her girlfriend, Isobel, huffed in protest, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. You’d have plenty of time to bicker later. For now, the fresh air and cool breeze were like heaven after a long road trip.

“The boys beat us here,” Callie remarked.

Sure enough, there were two other cars already parked in the driveway. Back behind the main cabin, a plume of smoke rose into the air. You could hear loud laughter, loud enough to drown out the trap music they had playing.

“They’ve started a bonfire!” Olivia squealed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I’m ready to get partying… it’s four in the afternoon and I’ve spent all day in a car. I need a drink.”

A few others were laughing and nodding in agreement, already making their way towards the boys, but you hung back. You’d party later, but after spending an entire day stuck with six other people, you just wanted to be alone. Plus, you wanted to drink tonight, and you’d never get around to unpacking your bag if you were wasted.

You managed to dig your duffel bag out from the pile of luggage in the trunk, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Callie had just been finishing up with a phone call when you looked up.

“Hey, you’re not joining the others?” She asked. “I was about to head over, they’ve got a fire going. Just had to call my mum to let her know we made it.”

“I’ll join in a bit,” you promised “but I want to unpack my things first… where are we all staying?”

“You’re in the main cabin, I have you sharing a room with Charlie, is that okay?” She questioned. You nodded quickly, relief flooding over you. You liked all of the girls who came on the trip, but Charlie was by far the easiest to get along with. “Harry and I each have our own room in the main cabin, too, so you won’t be alone. Everyone else is in the guest cabin, though.”

“The guest cabin,” you giggled, slinging your bag over your shoulder as Callie lead you into the main building, “this place is swanky, Cal.”

“We host all of our family reunions here,” she shrugged, “we need lots of space. Plus it’s fun for occasions like this… we’re just lucky my dad is letting us use the boats. He treats those things like they’re his own children, only Harry is allowed to drive them this week.”

You made a face at the mention of her brother. “I’ll be staying far away from the boats, then.”

“Oh god,” Callie groaned, “I know you two don’t get along very well, but please try to be civil… we’re here for a whole week, after all.”

“I’m always civil,” you protested innocently, “it’s him you need to worry about.”

“Always civil,” she scoffed, “we both know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide.”

Okay, so maybe you had a slight temper when it came to Harry, but nine times out of ten, he was the one who started the argument. You were never the type to actively seek out conflict, but Harry seemed to thrive off of it. Whether it was eating all the food from your half of the fridge, throwing his dark blue t-shirt in with your load of whites, or playing his guitar in your living room until three in the morning when you had a test the next day… it felt like he was out to get you.

And he was never apologetic. Of course not. He probably got off on watching steam blow from your ears.

You took a deep breath as Callie led you up a wooden staircase, trying not to let yourself get worked up. The cabin was gorgeous from what you’d seen on the main floor. Though you hadn’t lingered, you’d noticed that there was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, packed to the brim with books with faded spines, vinyl records with worn edges, and an assortment of candles and bookends sprinkled throughout randomly. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire property.

Photographs lined the walls of every hallway, snapshots of Harry and Callie running around as kids. There was a hilarious picture of a young Harry crying as he held a fishing pole, a bare hook dangling from the line. The Styles family clearly had a great sense of humor. You made a mental note to take a photo of it on your phone later; it would be perfect ammo for the next fight that Harry would inevitably start.

“This is the bathroom…” she drawled, “no shower though. We all just use the shower house, which isn’t really as bad as it sounds. Just make sure you bring clothes with you, otherwise you’ll have to walk across the lawn in just your towel.”

You grimaced at the thought. As she continued to lead you down the hall, you saw two doors, one with CALLIE’S ROOM written in bright pink bubble letters, and the second with a wooden plaque, the word HARRY written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting.

“This is technically my parents’ room, but we use it as a guest room if it’s just us kids,” Callie explained, stopping at the last door in the hallway, “they have a king bed, so I figured you and Charlie could just share.”

“That’s fine,” you assured her, not hesitating to drop your heavy duffel onto the side of the bed closest to the window, “this place is awesome, Callie.”

“Right?” She grinned. “I’m stoked for the week, it’s gonna be so fun.”

“You should go down to the bonfire,” you told her, placing a hand on your bag, “I’ll come join as soon as I’m done.”

Luckily, your roommate of two years understood that you needed alone time sometimes, so she left you without protest.

This was exactly the recharge time that you needed. You were the kind of person who loved being around friends, but there was only so much socializing you could handle before you needed a break to be on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken much on the ride to the cabin, being squished into a mini-van with six other girls drained your social battery. Giving yourself a moment to breathe and relax was necessary if you were going to rejoin the group.

Pressing the shuffle play button on your spotify, you smiled when the soft melody of your favorite folk song thrummed through your headphones. You swayed from side-to-side as you unzipped your bag, which had been packed to perfection.

Four swimsuits, a different outfit for each day (plus a few extra items… overpacking is better than underpacking), sunscreen, bug spray, all of your toiletries. It was fun to organize everything into the empty wardrobe by the window; looking at all of your stuff just made you more excited to be here.

Time flew by as you danced around the room. Most of your things were put away, and you’d stashed your empty bag under the bed. The one thing you hadn’t put away yet was your assortment of swimsuits. It had been difficult picking out which ones you wanted to bring, but you’d settled on three bikinis and a one-piece with the sides cut out. You were itching to change out of your leggings and t-shirt; they felt gross against your skin after sitting in the van all day.

Just as you went to pick up your navy blue sequined bikini top, a hand abruptly clamped down on your shoulder.

“Holy shit!” You spun around on your heels, hand flying to cover your beating heart. You were less than pleased to find Harry standing there, wide-eyed and trying to mask his amusement by biting down on his lip.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he chuckled, “forgot how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you frowned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and crossing your arms over your stomach, “what are you doing in here?”

“Nice to see you too,” he scoffed, dimple indenting into his cheek, “I was just using the loo, then I was gonna go back to the party, where we’re having fun. Foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around so he couldn’t see how hard you were scowling. He always knew just what to say to get your blood boiling.

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to have fun, Harry?” You asked sarcastically.

“Ah, I knew you were smarter than you looked,” he grinned. “Cute swim top.”

It was only then that you noticed his attire. Well, lack of attire. He was wearing the smallest swimming shorts you’d ever seen, his chest tanned from the sun and completely bare apart from a single cross necklace that hung over his sternum. His hair had grown out since the last time you saw him, and it looked a bit ridiculous with his sunglasses on top of his head.

He looked good, not that you’d ever admit it. Luckily, you were fantastic at masking your wandering eyes; he had a tendency of walking around your apartment in his boxers during visits, so you’d had plenty of practice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, throwing the bikini top back onto the bed. You’d been planning on wearing that one, but Harry ruined it with his gross comment, just like he ruins most things for you.

“I’m quite incapable of shutting up,” he mused, throwing himself down onto your side of the bed, “you should know this by now.”

“Trust me,” you were completely unamused, still standing with your arms crossed over your stomach, “I’m well aware.”

“You should come join the party,” he continued speaking as if you hadn’t said anything, seemingly unfazed by how visibly irritated you were, “it’s the first day and you’re already being a buzzkill. Maybe you should try like… try stepping out of your comfort zone, just for the week.”

“Thank you so much for that lovely unsolicited advice,” you said sarcastically, “now if we’re talking about comfort zones, you laying on my bed is definitely out of mine.”

“Please, you love me on your bed,” he smirked, closing his eyes, “this is a dream come true for you.”

“Are you delusional?” You were running out of patience. “Did you hit your head?”

“Why?” He said innocently. “Are you thinking about playing nurse? Because I hate to break your heart, but I’m not into wet blankets. Maybe if you loosened up a bit.”

If he wasn’t gone in thirty seconds, you were going to scream. He seemed to be enjoying himself, arms crossed behind his head with a twinkle in his eye as you stared daggers at him.

“Are you quite done?” You spit. “I can feel my IQ dropping every time you speak. Plus, I need to change before I come down.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” He waggled his eyebrows.

That was it. “Harry, get out, okay?”

“Jeez, okay, fine,” he grumbled, rolling clumsily off of the bed, “so bossy, you are.”

You pointed a finger towards the door, leveling him with the steeliest glare you could muster. “Out,” you repeated.

“You should come down sooner rather than later,” he said, completely unbothered, “I’m sure you’ll be much nicer once you’ve had a drink or two.”

He was gone before you could think of a response. The annoyance bubbling inside you was so intense, you felt like you wanted to break something. Instead, you punched your pillow a few times to release some tension, taking a deep breath to compose yourself after.

You wrinkled your nose at the blue bikini top, choosing to wear an orange floral patterned one instead. You’d never give Harry the satisfaction.

~~~

The fire was absolutely roaring.

It was perfect. The fire pit was lined with wooden logs, the tops shaved off to make benches. There was hardly enough space for all fourteen of you, but you managed to squeeze in as you all roasted corn and hot dogs over the fire. It wasn’t too windy, so you didn’t have to worry about smoke blowing into your eyes, but the bugs were relentless.

The air around you smelled of smoke, bug spray, and good food. There were a few different conversations happening, and every once in a while, a few people would break out into loud, contagious laughter.

Harry had tried to talk to you when you came down, but you’d avoided him like the plague. You had absolutely nothing nice to say to him after his snarky comments in your room, and any further interaction with him at this point would just end in disaster. Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by some of his frat brothers, and he hadn’t tried to approach you again all night.

Now, you were chatting with Olivia and one of the boys, Luke. By the time you’d gone down to the bonfire, everyone was several drinks in. You’d been forced to play catch-up by way of tequila shots, so you had a pleasant buzz running through your veins.

“This is a perfect summer night,” you sighed happily, pulling your skewer from the flames to keep your corn from burning.

“Almost perfect,” a boy named Archie corrected, “we haven’t been out on the lake yet.”

Harry and three of the other boys had arrived a night early to get the boats ready, and now that Archie mentioned it, the pontoon was looking mighty tempting. The sun hadn’t fully set, but dusk was beginning to settle in, blanketing the forest with pink and orange hues, a gorgeous reflection of the sunset above you. It was the perfect time to go out on the water.

“How do we feel about the pontoon?” You wondered out loud. There was no way you’d all fit, but you could go in groups.

“It’s too buggy to be on the water,” Callie wrinkled her nose, “I’m getting eaten alive as it is.”

“I’m down, as long as I can smoke a spliff while we’re out there,” James, one of the other boys, shrugged, “obviously I’ll share, I brought tons.”

A few others around the circle chimed in with their interest, and before you knew it, people were standing up to make their way over to the docks. You weren’t the best with names, but much to your relief, you’d introduced yourself to everyone going on the boat. Obviously, you already knew Morgan and Isobel, and were somewhat friendly with Jane, Archie, and James.

“I’ll come along, too,” a voice behind you yawned. When you turned around, you immediately felt yourself melt. Ryan, a boy you’d had a single class with freshman year, was stretching his arms out as he stood up, and he was looking directly at you with a flirtatious smile.

You’d had a major crush on him for the entirety of your class together, but you’d been too shy to say anything to him. He was a whole year older, after all, and that had been intimidating when you were eighteen.

You returned his smile, biting down on your bottom lip shyly.

“I guess I’m going too, then,” Harry sighed, shoving the last of his hot dog into his mouth before dusting his hands off.

Immediately, your face dropped. Harry snorted when he saw your expression, digging around the pocket in his swimsuit to retrieve a key.

“I’m the only one allowed to drive the boats, remember? Dad made me promise.”

Your shoulders slumped. You’d completely forgotten that Callie had mentioned it to you earlier. You weren’t about to turn down a sunset boat ride though, especially now that Ryan was coming along as well.

Everyone scarfed down the rest of their food in a rush as Harry went over to untie the boat and make sure it was good to go. You watched as he leaned far over the edge of the dock, so far that nearly fell face-first into the water before righting himself and trying again..

“Hey,” Ryan had walked next to you, following your line of sight, “he’s gonna fall in, isn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you giggled.

“You were in my History 204 class, weren’t you? Sophomore year?” He asked.

Your entire body flushed. You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all, let alone enough to remember you years later. Having Ryan up at the cabin, talking to you, felt like a dream come true.

“I was a freshman, but yeah, I think so,” you nodded nonchalantly, “I hated that professor.”

“Oh god, same!” He laughed, shaking his head, “such a drag, just constant pop quizzes!”

“Ugh, yes!” You turned your body towards him fully. “And that midterm assignment….”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ryan pretended to shiver in fear.

You laughed loudly, and from the corner of your eye you saw Harry turn to glance in your direction. Upon a closer look, he’d managed to wrangle the boat so it was right up against the dock.

“All aboard!” He shouted.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous antics. He always thought he was so funny, especially when you were the butt of his jokes. You hoped he’d be too busy driving to bother you.

Luckily, Ryan seemed keen to stay by your side, even helping you step into the boat by taking your hand to keep you balanced, so Harry didn’t have much of a chance to say anything. By the time the boat was moving, everyone was sitting in a circle on the floor, clipping in the life jackets that Callie had forced us all to wear.

As soon as the wind blew through your hair, you tilted your head up and closed your eyes. Lakes didn’t smell great, but you’d always loved it. It was classic, nostalgic. You’d spent every summer of your life swimming in Midwest lakes, so it felt just like summer.

James was true to his word, and pulled out four fatly rolled joints, passing them around with a lighter. You didn’t do this often, but it felt like the perfect moment. The sun was disappearing fast, and soon enough you’d be able to see the stars.

At some point, Harry slowed the engine down to a gentle hum when the boat reached the middle of the lake, getting a couple of the others to help him throw the anchor over the edge. Afterwards, he moved back over to the driving console and fiddled with a few buttons until quiet, staticky music sounded out. He then sat down across the circle from you, immediately accepting one of the joints from Archie.

You stood up on your knees, and looked around. Water lapped lightly against the sides of the boat, so it took you a moment to find your equilibrium. The silhouette of the tall pines surrounding the lake were awe-striking.

Nobody wanted to break the silence, so you didn’t. The weed was starting to take effect, making your body feel heavy and your head feel light. You started to lay down, unclipping your life jacket to use as a pillow. Slowly, your friends followed your lead, the sounds of shuffling and buckles popping open momentarily interrupting the tranquil silence.

You watched the sky change from pink to a deep blue, only turning your head away when the first stars became visible. Morgan was laying next to you, staring straight up at the sky. To anyone else, she looked like she was lost in thought, but you knew her better than that. There was a slight frown, watery eyes, a little crinkle across her forehead... she was worried about something.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, trailing a hand down her arm. She let out a long exhale.

“This is gonna sound so soppy,” Morgan sighed, “but I can’t stop thinking about like… how different I would be if I could just, change things about myself.”

“I like you the way you are,” Isobel frowned, sitting up slightly to look at her, “plus, you can change things about yourself. People do it all the time. New hairstyles, piercings, clothes. You could completely rebrand yourself anytime you want.”

“She’s not talking about her appearance,” you said softly, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “she means… like, changing who you are, at your very core. Things you can’t help.”

“I get that,” Ryan chimed in, “I think about that, too. If I could change one thing about myself, I would make myself more motivated. My life would be so different if I could just… alter one tiny thing.”

“Exactly!” Morgan nodded. “I would… make myself less impulsive, I think. I have so many regrets, and it’s all because I never properly think before I act. I’d be so much better off if I could just learn to be more careful.”

“I like how spontaneous you are,” Isobel hummed, “but I think I know what you mean. If I could change anything about myself, I’d make myself less anxious. Anxiety has always held me back so much… I mean, fuck… I haven’t even come out to my family yet, even though I know they’d support me. I’d be so much happier if I could appreciate the good things in life, rather than stress about how to keep them.”

“I’m with Isobel,” Harry spoke. He’d just taken a rather large pull from the joint, so his voice came out rougher than gravel. “Anxiety is such a bitch, and it’s like, out of our control. It’s kept me from talking about my feelings so many times, and I feel like I’ve missed out on some really good friendships because of it.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you felt happier than you had in a long time. You’d smoked just enough to feel numb, and the waves were rocking against the boat so gently that it felt like you were floating. You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling the crisp forest air fill your lungs before exhaling. The stars were shining in the cloudless sky, crickets were chirping along the shore, and soft music was filtering through the cheap boat stereo. It was peaceful, listening to your friends pour their hearts out.

Each person took a turn sharing what they would change about themselves. Archie would get rid of his bad temper, James would become a better listener, and Jane would be less self-conscious.

“What would you change?” Morgan turned to look at you.

You and your twin sister were very different people. So different, in fact, that you sometimes forgot that you were identical. In moments like this, when her eyes were watery and hooded, voice thick with sadness and hope, that you were reminded of how similar you could be.

“If I could change anything about myself….” you mused, closing your eyes. “I think I would… let things go.”

“Let things go?” Archie echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “like, let go of the past. Whenever something bad happens to me, I let it really get to me. Negative memories and feelings just… constantly eat away at me. I wish I could just wake up in the morning and think about the future… because thinking about the past is exhausting.”

Nobody spoke after your confession. Nobody tried to assure anyone that they would be okay, or convince anyone that they didn’t need to change. There was something comforting about lying in a circle with your friends, your sister… even Harry, because you were all flawed, and none of you knew what the future would bring. You all found solace in the fact that you were here, right now, laying in a circle on a boat, with an old jazz song ringing through the air.

And who knows… maybe someday, you’ll all find a way to change the parts of yourselves that bother you. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate them. Maybe your flaws will end up helping you in the long run.

But for now, none of you were alone. And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting feedback, so let me know what you thought! xoxoxoxoxoooooxxxxxxooooooxxxoooo Tile

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #styles #pypfc #pick your poison fic challenge #enemies to lovers #m&bc #miles and black coffee #multi-part fic #part 1

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

Unlikely

Summary: A lazy Saturday morning with breakfast, talk and kisses.

Relationship: Da Qing / Ye Zun

Tags: Fluff, Kissing, Friend to Lovers, No Plot/Plotless

Words: 2013

Loose continuation of New Year’s Morning

Read on AO3

Da Qing, in human form, sat on his favourite counter in the tiny apartment kitchen, a coffee mug beside him, and let his legs dangle. He felt reasonably awake for a Saturday morning, lazily eyeing the sunbeams that the swirling dust made visible. He was as content as a cat could be before breakfast, and turned his gaze to the one preparing it.

Ye Zun rummaged through the cramped kitchen, wielding spatulas and knives with his usual precise grace. A sight that collided slightly with the ratty sweatpants he wore – that Da Qing could have sworn had once been Zhao Yunlan’s –, an equally ratty t-shirt and no socks. He had bound his silvery hair into a ponytail that fell softly over his back. It had taken all of Shen Wei’s and Da Qing’s combined efforts to convince him not to dye it and cut it all off, but he had insisted on shortening it to a “manageable length”. Da Qing found he looked like an elven prince from one of those fantasy movies Xiao Guo was so obsessed with, but he would rather bite his own tongue off than tell him that.

Ye Zun had come a long way from that insane, power-hungry, scheming creature he had made his first appearance as. After that last confrontation with Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei in the Dixing palace, he had changed so drastically Da Qing sometimes still had trouble grasping the whole extent of it. Seeing your brother sacrifice himself for the sake of the world; seeing him actually die because you felt hurt and lashed out, eventually bringing him back to life with an immeasurable power some strange artifacts gave you, before draining all energy of you and leaving you an empty shell – that would transform any person for good. It had taken him a while to find himself again after all this. He still was snarky and sarcastic and quite impulsive, but under all that bravado hid a very kind and extraordinarily intelligent character Da Qing had come to like.

Their first encounters had been extremely awkward, though. They didn’t have any safe conversation topics and Ye Zun had demonstrated a serious lack of hobbies other than world domination. It had taken a while – and a ton of Zhao Yunlan’s old video games – to find some common ground. (He still sucked at Mario Kart, but now he at least took a loss in stride.)

Ye Zun muttered a curse and Da Qing resurfaced from his thoughts. “Hm?”

“I said we’re out of sesame oil. Need to put it on the list.”

“You do that,” Da Qing grinned toothily at him. Ye Zun shot him a dark look, but said nothing. He continued his preparations in silence and Da Qing found himself watching again. He liked watching people, period, they never ceased to entertain him, but he especially liked watching them when they made food. He had watched Shen Wei often; first at a campfire ten thousand years ago, meticulously preparing whatever prey had been brought in by the Alliance’s hunters, then in this very kitchen, moving around silently as to not wake Zhao Yunlan. He still watched Shen Wei occasionally, when he stayed at the new apartment, where he had a room as well, but somehow this old place still felt more like home, even without Zhao Yunlan in it. Their living arrangements had required only a very short discussion, since his boss and his boyfriend were eager to move to a bigger place, and Ye Zun needed somewhere to stay anyway, other than the SID where he was driving Zhu Hong up the walls. So they just had moved Zhao Yunlan’s most important stuff to the new place and left the rest untouched. (To Da Qing’s immense joy the things Zhao Yunlan had so generously left had included his video games and his porn collection.)

He had half expected to move with Zhao Yunlan, he was his master after all, but he found himself more often here than there. He didn’t mind Ye Zun’s company, he was easy to be with. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, he revealed an analytical and reflective mind one would not have expected from someone who had spent the last millennia in a pillar. Some rainy days they played video games together or watched movies, or just sat in silence in each other’s company. On rare occasions Ye Zun could even be convinced to watch sports with him, albeit under protest and only when adequately bribed with hot dogs.

He liked this easy life, Da Qing mused, to choose freely where to stay and what to do. He still had his work at the SID, of course, but the cases were not that dramatic anymore. Zhao Yunlan had pulled a lot of strings, thrown his weight around, and probably also threatened a few people, but finally the minister had grudgingly accepted Ye Zun as their newest consultant. This new job came with a few liabilities, but in the end, he had more time to himself than he ever had before. If he, Da Qing, himself found that kind of freedom enticing, how gratifying must it feel for Ye Zun who had spent almost his whole life being enslaved to one master or another?

Da Qing let his eyes wander over the other man who was still gracefully moving around the kitchen, when Ye Zun looked up. “What?”

“Nothing? I just… Nothing.”

Again, Ye Zun just raised one of his dark eyebrows, but stayed silent. Another thing he liked, Da Qing realised, that he thought he only had with Zhao Yunlan. Not having to explain himself, just quietly existing alongside the other – that was incredibly calming.

“Breakfast is done,” Ye Zun announced after a while, unceremoniously pushing a bowl at Da Qing and taking his own to the bar where he plopped down on a stool. Da Qing followed and sat opposite him. They ate in silence, content with the lazy warm atmosphere and the delicious food.

After emptying his bowl, Da Qing pushed it to the side and stretched luxuriously. He yawned and ended it with a toothy grin in Ye Zun’s direction, who just shook his head smiling. “You really are a cat.”

Da Qing raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? Quite literally.”

“Very funny. I know that, but…”

When he trailed off, Da Qing prompted, “But..?”

“But I’ve never known a Yashou. Like, personally. It’s just… It’s new.” He swallowed. “In the Rebel army there were a few, mostly crows, but they weren’t...well-liked. Or really accepted. And later…” He trailed off again, wincing slightly, and this time Da Qing didn’t try to get him to continue. Some memories were better left alone.

They fell silent again, both in their own thoughts. Da Qing absent-mindedly stirred his coffee. “How was it?” he asked after a while.

“What?”

“The war. Life in the Rebel camp. I mean,” he added, “I was in that war as well, just..”

“Just on the right side, you mean?” Ye Zun apparently tried for sarcastic, but didn’t sound very convincing.

“It didn’t feel like it,” Da Qing said softly, “It just felt cold, most of the time.”

Ye Zun looked down into his own mug. “It was. I mean, I was cold too. And hungry, and generally quite miserable.” He exhaled slowly. “The situation did improve slightly when I took command, but I had just lost my brother, well, I thought I had, and was so brainwashed that I didn’t care about anything else.” He shrugged, visibly uneasy. “It wasn’t a good time.”

“No,” Da Qing agreed with a soft smile, “it wasn’t. But it’s over. All of it.”

Ye Zun’s eyes met his. “Yeah,” he exhaled, “It’s over. And we lived.”

“We lived.” Da Qing grinned at him. Ye Zun flashed him a tiny smile and stood up. “I cooked, you clean,” he declared and marched to the sofa after refilling his coffee mug. Da Qing huffed indignantly, but collected the dishes and placed them into the sink. “Later”, he said and stuck his tongue out at Ye Zun. Grabbing his own mug, he sauntered over to the sofa and plopped down next to Ye Zun who was already on his phone. Da Qing curled up into the pillows and closed his eyes, starting to purr contentedly.

“Pretty unlikely,” Ye Zun said after a while.

Da Qing needed a moment to recalibrate. “What is?”

“Us. We are. I mean, it’s...” He gestured vaguely at himself and Da Qing and the world in general. “We both were born more than ten thousand years ago. We have seen famine, plague and death, we have been beaten, wounded, hurt, almost killed. We survived a fucking war and lived until another one. And survived that too... I mean, what are the odds of us meeting?” He turned to look at Da Qing. “We weren’t even on the same side in that damn war. In either war. What are the odds of this?”

Da Qing chuckled. “That we met, became friends and are now sitting on a sofa together?” Ye Zun’s face became unreadable and Da Qing tensed slightly. “Right?”

“Yes,” he said frostily, “that we are friends.”

“What—hey?” Da Qing almost rolled over Ye Zun to keep him from getting up. “What’s going on? Aren’t we friends?”

“I don’t know what we are, Da Qing,” Ye Zun snapped. “I thought--” He broke off and inhaled shakily. “Well, obviously I thought wrong.” He tried again to stand up, but was so firmly pinned under the cat that he sunk back into the sofa, only able to glare at him, looking angry, hurt, and very vulnerable.

Da Qing looked at him for a long time. Then, slowly, he reached up and carefully brushed an errant strand of silvery hair behind Ye Zun’s ear. He traced the shell with a finger, down to the earlobe, then continued further along his jaw, finally cupping his cheek. He tracked Ye Zun’s bottom lip with his thumb, lingering there for a moment.

“You are an idiot,” he declared softly.

Without waiting for an answer he leaned in, meeting the other’s lips, his eyes closing, hot lips moving against his own. Carefully, he darted out his tongue and licked Ye Zun’s bottom lip. That earned him a sigh, he felt the other melting against him, sinking into the kiss. He brushed his tongue again over Ye Zun’s lips and felt sparks surge through his whole body when they opened for him. He let his tongue dart out and they met each other fervently, more urgent than before. He felt nothing of Ye Zun’s usual caution, only heat and an intensity that matched his own. When they broke the kiss, they were both panting, breathing each other’s air, not wanting to part for a second. Opening his eyes, he found obsidian darkness staring back at him, fathomless, mesmerizing, and so utterly beautiful he forgot how to breathe. One hand still on Ye Zun’s cheek, he traced his thumb over a dark eyebrow, breathless, speechless, and desperate to kiss him more. Hot lips met his and he felt those sparks again, a rising heat in his core growing into a wildfire, an answering inferno in Ye Zun, burning and flooding him at the same time. He bit Ye Zun’s bottom lip, licking over the spot, sucking it. A hand came up to his nape, tangling in his short hair and holding him in place, as Ye Zun leaned fully back and tugged, pulling the cat over him, not letting go for a second. When they had to part again to breathe, he felt slightly dizzy. He looked again in Ye Zun’s dark eyes and saw his smile reflected in them. As their breathing slowed, he caressed his cheek, a tiny grin on his lips. “You know, I still think you’re an idiot.”

Ye Zun placed a tender kiss on his lips and laughed. “If you add 'But you're my idiot', I’m going to hit you.”

#镇魂 guardian #guardian #da qing #ye zun #da qing / ye zun #da qing & ye zun #guardian fic #my writing

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

Text

past or present— a haikyuu smau

[oikawa x y/n x atsumu]

a/n: hi !! here we have sum words in between pictures 😔🤘🏻

part 10 > part 11 > part 12A | nav.

you place your phone down on the bedside table, sighing as you watched streaks of sunlight enter through the partially opened blinds.

to be honest, you didn't know what got into your head that made you say those words to atsumu. were you always this impulsive? no, not really. you preferred thinking things through.

perhaps deep inside, you just wanted to find out for yourself what it is that you really feel for the blonde miya, and what he genuinely felt for you too.

it wasn't that you wanted to settle down, or be in a committed relationship anytime soon. it's just that you felt like something was missing in your life even after treating your profession as your spouse. maybe you're just not used to all the flirting anymore. or maybe you were getting old, preferring a more direct approach to trivial matters like this.

trivial... matters? is this really something a person could call trivial?

the early morning thinking made your stomach grumble, prompting you to get off the bed to have breakfast.

'i'll save my appetite for later,' you thought before randomly pulling a bag of bread, then absentmindedly began eating its contents. as soon as you recognize the fluffy texture and creamy taste, a brunette setter flashed through the recesses of your mind.

you look down, noticing that indeed, you were eating milkbread. you faintly remembered how he–oikawa tooru–had once given you a whole month's supply of the food to help in increasing your height. his reasoning was ridiculous, but nonetheless, your dork of an ex was someone you really couldn't resist. 'is that why i was so helpless when we... when he broke up with me?'

just in time, your phone rang, snapping you back into attention. it was atsumu.

"hello?"

"y/n... you weren't kidding when you said you were gonna go here, right?"

that was the first time you heard a hint of hesitation in the usually cool, sure-of-himself, atsumu. the thought made you chuckle. "mhhm, i'll be there a little bit before lunch. what food do you want?"

you hear osamu's voice from a distance saying, "leave that to me,"

"well, you heard him. if you're worried he's gonna stick around later, i'll kick him out."

this makes you gasp, feeling a bit embarrassed of yourself for forgetting to consider his twin, "oh! is he gonna be there later? i... i thought he was gonna go work or... something..." you hiss at the end, slowly regretting your decision.

"yep, he has work don't worry." there was a brief pause and then, as he speaks, you could see it in your head that atsumu was smirking through the receiver; the smirk that seemed to have been embroidered on his handsome face since birth.

"you seem pretty dead set on getting me alone, y/n. why?"

you blush, cheeks heating up with all the blood that suddenly rushed underneath your skin. "b-because! i-it's... it's kind of like a date, right? why, are you two like a package since you're twins?" you berated yourself for stuttering (he was going to tease you for that later, that's for sure). at the same time, you heard something like a pot lid dropping to the floor.

"is... everything okay back there?"

"yeah, samu's fine,"

"...i'm on speaker, aren't i,"

"yep." atsumu pops the last syllable, then proceeds to not put you on speaker anymore. he took an intake of breath, you assumed he was stretching as he asked, "any movies you'd like to watch?"

you sighed, trying to tone down the feeling of embarrassment from the joke you made about the twins, hoping osamu would put it behind him. instead of dwelling on that, you answer atsumu's query, "just nothing too obnoxious, horror is fine, please no porn, cute animated ones are also good, i'm not really that picky with movies." you listed your terms as you get a glass of juice.

atsumu chuckles, snarky comeback ready, "but you do seem picky with the people you date,"

"that, i won't deny."

"and it's a valuable trait to have, right? besides, i think we're both making a good pick here."

you hum for an answer, before taking a quick sip, 'damn it, he's too good at this,' you thought, biting your lip at having been unable to come up with a retort.

atsumu notices that you haven't said anything so, with a soft smile that you couldn't see, he says, "well, i'm not gonna hold you up for long. see you later, y/n."

"osamu just chatted to ask if the food was okay. he's so sweet. i said the food was great. sooo, think you can bring those to training some time?" you say, before shooting a potato chip into your mouth.

you only brought some snacks–basically, junk–for when you two watched movies.

atsumu raises his brow, leaning back comfortably on his side of the sofa. you peep at him when he doesn't respond, then teasingly grins. "atsu, don't tell me: are you jealous i called your brother sweet?"

his ears became a little pink and he aggressively picks the remote up, "why would i be?" he murmurs under his breath. his reaction made you chuckle, before reaching out for his phone. "Ciri, pick a number between one and 20,"

"nice choice, perfectly fitting." atsumu remarks, after putting "50 first dates" on to play.

"right? because this is like our first–no, second–date. unless of course, you forgot about that already."

"i don't have short term memory loss, atsumu."

"no, keep calling me atsu. you're the only one who calls me that." he winks, before digging his hand into the bag of chips atop your lap.

the rest of the movie marathon afternoon was spent by laughing over the same jokes together, you getting emotional at any scene that made you feel emotional, with atsumu making sure to give you tissues and a bowl of ice cream to calm you down.

first, the two of you began the marathon sitting on either end of the sofa, and gradually, things began to get a little chaotic when the both of you became comfortable with each other; such as your feet on atsumu's lap, turning into atsumu sprawled on the floor with his arm on your leg, while you were on the couch, lying on your belly.

to be honest, atsumu spent more time watching you than focusing on the movies on the screen. he could watch them anytime he wanted to, but to observe you up close, and just being around you, your presence just for himself–atsumu felt that it was a once in a lifetime thing, and knew he shouldn't take this moment for granted.

there were more times he's caught himself smiling at you, whether it was when you got scared from a jumpscare (wherein you then laughed at him for flinching, and he ends up defending himself that it was your screaming that shocked him); or when you couldn't control the outburst if your loud laugh and snorting.

'i wish time would stop.' atsumu thinks. 'from here on out, what will become of us?'

sure he seems confident on the outside, but the truth is, this pro athlete is not much of a pro when it comes to dating. he's never really been interested in the prospect of romance, probably because he was surrounded by those who squeal in joy at the sight of him, and getting one would have probably come in easy for him. he even remembers calling his female fans as pigs (even though they were kinda cute–but they were ruining his game! well fuck, that doesn't matter now)

but you? oh y/n, he never said he didn't like a challenge.

now... should he be more direct than he already was? he was sure that he wanted you for himself, but... 'does y/n even want me that way? does she want... anything like that with me?'

it was suddenly quiet, as he immersed himself into his thoughts, losing track of which movie it was you were watching. atsumu took a quick glance at you, only to see that you were fast asleep, head on the edge of the seat. somehow you two ended up switching places, you on the floor and him on the couch.

all his previous thoughts were gone, your peaceful face giving him... peace.

his gentle fingers nimbly brushed a few strands of your hair out of your face. he inches his face closer, his lips just a few inches from your forehead, before you stirred in your sleep.

atsumu gave you one last look before pulling himself away. he smiles to himself, eyes intent on you.

then, he finally notices your horrible position on the floor, which was sure to give you either a back ache or a stiff neck if he was just going to let you be. atsumu sighs, shaking his head.

an idea pops into the blonde setter's mind, causing him to smirk. quickly, he reaches for his phone that was on the couch, swiped open the camera, before looking for a cute angle of yours and grinned at successfully taking a photo of you sleeping soundly without waking you up.

satisfied with his little victory, atsumu finally bends down, carefully wraps his strong arms around your form, and carries you to his shared bedroom. atsumu lays you down on his messy bed (because, he wasn't being possessive, it's just that there was no way he was going to let you end up on his twin's bed).

he took his brother's neat bed, and just let you sleep, toss and turn, while he would toss a ball while lying down. when he grew tired of doing so, and you had your back turned to him, atsumu just pulled his phone out once more and checked the photo he took.

atsumu gently smiles, "i'm so stupid... there's no need for us to rush, am i right y/n?" he murmurs softly, knowing you wouldn't be able to hear him anyway.

for now, he was just going to take his sweet time.

taglist: @tamcitrus @nerdyphantomlady @haikyuuincorrect @aurorahoneybuns @zoppzoop @takingyouruwus @jesquisser @blushinggray

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #oikawa tooru x reader x atsumu miya #oikawa tooru #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #kuroo tetsurou #kenma kozume #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji

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gravityfissure · 4 years

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[meta] What, if any, games, movies, books, tv shows, etc. have you drawn influence from for your character?

Okay so round 2, much in the same vein for Arthur there are... A lot. Possibly even more things that influence and inspire where Otto’s muse and views comes from. That said in writing this there are also a LOT of similarities between the characters I can pick out certain attributes and to be honest there’s a lot of crossover with the traits and characterisations highlighted.

Namely: playful and proactive, self-serving yet loyal to those that meet his criteria as to who is deserving of it. A grifter by nature that will approach almost any situation if he feels he’ll get something out of it while equally hoping that one day someone might actually bother to ask him (and maybe give him a true reason) to stay.

Dorian - Dragon Age: Inquisition

Uh, the heir of a famous magical dynasty? A flair of magical talent that made him the envy of his peers? Studied at one of the best colleges for the magical arts before being kicked out and privately tutored before eventually vanishing and being found by Magister Gereon Alexius who offered to take him as his apprentice eventually becoming a fully-ranked enchanter. A pariah for opposing every fault his homeland is renowned for?

It’s been years since I’ve played DA:I and Dorian always was one of my favourite characters but tbh I completely forgot his background and it’s only in revisiting it now I actually realise the similarities in the framework of their characters/development/story line. Not to mention the fact they both enjoy playful flirtation and witty banter and oppose the things they don’t fit into their view of the world. They will probably do the right thing, but that doesn’t mean they might not take their sweet ass time in actually getting into a situation.

Isabela - Dragon Age II and Inquisition

AND AGAIN. Isabela’s a great character - a pirate scourge of coastlines and nations around the world who values fun, freedom and getting ahead in life. They both value solving situations in clever and devious ways and getting ahead even if it means being somewhat selfish when they’re dealing with other people, example: Otto conning Deirdre out of $28k when she tried to cover for Regan or those plans he has to try and record a banshee scream? They’re both always down for trying to squeeze that little bit extra out of a person. If it one ups them in life and people are gullible enough to fall for it well... They really did it to themselves didn’t they?

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t depths to that hardened persona they both present. There are actual feelings and things hidden behind the wall and appearance they both present to the world. And underneath it all they’re both afraid of being left behind, but figure it’s best to push people away before they decide to leave of their own volition. At least that way they can say they have some control over the situation..

Sera - Dragon Age: Inquisition

Apparently this is a DA characters list but you know what sue me. x) So NEXT on the list is Sera, an elven archer who is incredibly impulsive and reactionary. She takes pure delight in humbling the established authority she views as arrogant and selfish. It’s less about what’s right in the grand scheme of things but more about what’s right in that very moment. She doesn’t believe in actions taken for a greater good, instead viewing it as just another excuse to hurt others undeserving of such treatment because it’s easier than making the truly hard choices in life.

Felix Dawkins - Orphan Black

Look Felix is one of the many fascinating characters on Orphan Black. Don’t get me wrong there are SO many and it’s a great show. But Felix is a character whose very existence proves that you can have a very effeminate, boisterous, loud, witty gay character and not have him be limited to the perpetuation of the sassy gay friend stereotype. Why? Because he has a whole complex personality beyond just that aspect of his life. He’s got to deal with real life issues on top of all the drama clone club brings into his life and he deals and he survives and he cOPES.

Not to mention he’s a positive representation of foster children being happy, positive representation of LGBTQ+ characters and gives positive representation of sex workers. Not to mention on top of all that representation you see how he’s smart as hell, the only person who knows Sarah well enough to keep her on track. The BEST uncle to Kira and one of the most supportive characters on the show.

Sarah - Orphan Black

Felix’s foster-sister, another character that shows the positive and complex dynamic that foster families tend to have while also demonstrating the fascinating found-family dynamic with clone club. Sarah’s interesting because she’s a natural chameleon, she’s street-smart and tough, a born outsider living on the fringes by her wits while in possession of a dark sense of humour that sees her by.

Sarah and Otto have a rather morally ambiguous compass, they’re both characters who swing between being very self-serving and selfish and acting for the greater good when they decide it’s needed. Not to mention the act as if they don’t care about other people’s issues (see clone club) when actually it transpires they both might just care a little more than they actually let on.

Garcia Flynn - Timeless

Unfortunately Garcia fits the my favourite character type: tall, dark, snarky, sassy antihero motivated fiercely by love and willing to do things of questionable morality against a greater evil, self-aware and doesn’t make excuses for his behaviour, but isn’t wringing his hands over it either. A character who so dearly loves the people in his life (see revenge for his wife and daughter) so much so he’s still fighting for them 5 years later just to be alive and not even to have anything to do with him again because he knows the things he’s done are enough the he could never go back to being that person for them. The man who loved his mum and went on a trip just to make her happy and save his brother. When he truly cares for someone he does EVERYTHING for them while somehow having none of the toxic jealous possessive business, despite his well-attested Garbage Drama in other departments, and just generally being a mature adult and an essentially good person who has gone down some really dark places and is finally rediscovering what he’s buried and lost. Look man, I’m a suuuuuuuuuuuuucker for found family, enemies to lovers, and villain becomes weird family member. And he covers all of those, so yes.

There’s a lot of that I’m planning and drawing on for Otto, this weird currently antagonistic little self-serving shit who is out for his own ends but maybe along the way finds some semblence of a conscious and maybe has a fair few moral dilemmas and self-questioning moments along the way? Who maybe finds friends (and even love?) Who has to deal with FEELINGS and things he’s repressed for years because of the things he’s done just to survive the life he fell into? Uh, yes give me give me give me.

Jesse Custer - Preacher

Okay, so this one’s kind of another given. Jesse’s another character I’m fascinated with because before Genesis’ arrival he was a down upon his luck preacher. A man who was trying so hard to fit into his dad’s ideal and not let the life he had before affect his day to day. Except it all goes to hell in a handbasket because of course it does.

Jesse essentially gains the ability to make anyone do anything he says. And that power? It’s addictive, and we see the struggle he goes through to learn how to control and manipulate it to his own end. To begin with he tries to right wrongs, to tell people to stop doing the bad things they’re doing in their lives and fix them so they’re better people but with each act that power and god-complex grows. It goes to his head until we meet the moronic messiah Humperdoo and Jesse eventually agrees to take his place. The messiah-complex and power corruption is complete, and the repercussions of his choices are devastating especially with how they impact Cassidy or Tulip and the repercussions in Angelville.

Much like Otto’s own magic, the more its used the more enticing it is to carry on using it for more and more things. At first it was small deeds, little acts of good until Otto in kind started to realise that good deeds weren’t enough to make a change. They weren’t enough for other people around him and with each act it grew and grew - and it continues to grow. The question is to what level? And if it ever got out of control, would he ever know how to stop it?

Crowley - Good Omens

An overall non-threatening demon, who tries to be “evil” in his own way to fit into the role his society (other demons) expect of him. Crowley wants to save the world (for his own reasons) and can be rather self-serving in certain moments. There’s plenty of times he tried to convince Aziraphale to run away with him and let everything else forgive the irony but for lack of a better term “go to hell” but he always comes around in the end (typically to a Queen track) to help when it really counts for something.

Not to mention his flare for the dramatic, very rarely thinking things through, with many of his own plans backfiring on him.

Sound familiar?

Wrench - Watch Dogs 2

Part-hacker and full-fledged anarchist who wears a freaky mask with LED displays capable of bizarre emoticons. He's vulgar, crude, entertaining and an absolute adrenaline junkie who lives on the edge. He's jokingly called the wrench because he's the wrench you throw into somebody's gears to grind them to a halt.

The final one on the list, because it’s a side I haven’t yet played into so much but I’m curious to given means and opportunity to. Otto does have some inclination towards an anarchistic nature, if a system doesn’t seem to work he isn’t afraid to speak out or more likely act out against it. Whether it’s in the greater good or not isn’t so much relevant rather that he would happily take a torch and burn something to the ground if it meant starting again with something new and better in its place. It’s definitely something I want to explore more down the line.

I also find it interesting the whole concept of “hiding behind a mask” which is something wrench quite literally does. Both have built personas to defend themselves from people breaking through and seeing that what actually exists on the other side is a rather shy and awkward person who tries to “act out” and be “dramatic” in an attempt to get attention from a world in which there’s so much noise how could anyone ever feel like their voice mattered let alone be heard unless they started shouting “HEY, LOOK AT ME” at the top of his lungs?

#Anonymous #answered #wickedsanon #meta #headcanon #// this GOT SO LONG

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nightmare-hennessy · 4 years

Text

as if a second self

pairing: adam parrish/ronan lynch

summary: three times ronan says i love you and one time adam says it back

read on ao3

chapter 1: the first time

The first time it happened, it took Adam completely by surprise.

It was one of the days between Christmas and New Year's — Adam honestly couldn't tell which one. He'd lost track of time completely ever since Christmas break began and he didn't have to scribble the date at the top right corner of the sheet of paper he used to write his notes on during Latin class.

It was a relief, honestly. Finally, Adam didn't have to pull his thoughts away from Ronan, Ronan, Ronan every five minutes to instead focus on whatever subject at hand.

Everything was so quiet; so still. Mornings started with late breakfasts turning into early lunches and ended with crappy movies playing on tv while nobody paid any attention to them. At night, they made a habit of sitting on one of the barn's roof, fireflies swarming around their heads while they stared up at the stars.

The Barns had quickly made it to the list of Adam's favorite places. Granted, that list was short. It consisted of Cabeswater (which didn't exist anymore) and, well, the main barn at Singer's Falls.

It wasn't so much the Barns themselves with their cozy rooms and lovely roofs to spend warmer nights on, or all the food cooked from fresh vegetables from dream plants that grew all year round, or the collection of knick-knacks on the shelves that Adam loved every single useless piece of, but Ronan. This was Ronan's home and Ronan had become Adam's home.

Over the past weeks, Adam had become gradually happier and happier. Even though most times, he still woke up on his mattress above St. Agnes church (it really was better to spend the nights away from Ronan during school time, otherwise there would be no studying happening — ever), feeling paralyzed for a moment of guilt because he turned on his family; of shame because now that Cabeswater was no longer, he was nothing more than Adam Parrish with the second-hand school uniform; of knowing that for everything he wanted, he would have to work twice as hard, there was always this little sun burning just left off center in his chest. It warmed the doubt that being happy meant only for everything to crash down again at one point away.

Now, Adam felt warm.

Now, Adam was stretched out on the couch in the living room of the main barn he'd fallen asleep on after lunch. He'd done nothing but eat today, and it felt great. He felt great.

Except he didn't.

The warm feeling he thought originated from the content feeling in his chest turned out to be the heat coming from the fireplace as well as the person lying behind him with their arms wrapped tightly around him. Yes, it was cozily warm at first, but soon after appreciating that, there were beads of sweat forming on Adam's forehead and he wished for a window to be open.

Ronan's breath was hot against his neck, not really helping the situation. Adam tried to bring distance between them, but he didn't want to wake Ronan up. Ronan definitely slept more than usual nowadays, but he still had long, insomniac nights that he usually spent tinkering around the Barns or on the phone with Gansey. So instead, Adam started wiggling his feet, attempting to strip his socks off without using his hands. It was more difficult than expected.

"What the fuck're you doing, Parrish?" Ronan's voice was muffled against Adam's neck. Automatically — he always did this when he sensed the danger of Adam moving away from him — he wrapped his arms tighter around Adam's torso, refusing to let go. The first moments after waking up were always his most vulnerable. That was when he didn't yet have time to build his walls up for the day.

"I'm warm," Adam whined because slowly but surely, he felt like he was melting — and not in the good way like when he sat on the kitchen counter and watched Ronan, usually without a shirt on, fry bacon and eggs in the pan for breakfast, eyebrows furrowed as if it took all his concentration.

"Mhm," Ronan made, still muffled, "You could always take your shirt off, you know."

Adam made a pff sound. "Unfortunately, I can not, as I have someone's chest glued to my back."

Adam felt Ronan's hands slide all the way down his chest and over his stomach. Despite the heat in the room, he felt goosebumps creeping up his arms. He stilled against Ronan's chest, waiting. Waiting for him to skim his hands under the hem of his shirt, waiting for another snarky remark before lips found one another.

Nothing of that.

But a push.

Adam didn't have time to react or catch up on what was happening because it was happening way too fast. First, Ronan's arms around him loosened up completely, then one of his hands disappeared from where it was traveling toward less innocent regions, and then —

And then he pushed Adam off the couch. With a fucking chuckle.

If Adam hadn't been pushed and shoved his whole entire life, he'd probably hit the ground with his face instead of reflexively jutting his arms out and catching himself — more or less. He still landed with an inelegant thump.

"Bastard!"

Ronan's chuckle evolved into a full on barking laugh.

"Asshole," Adam muttered but couldn't help the quirk of his mouth. He scrambled to get up, but was shut down almost immediately by Ronan rolling off the sofa as well. He did a far better job at catching himself — probably because he wasn't caught off guard — and now sort of hovered over Adam in a pose resembling a finished push up.

"Say that again, will you," Ronan said close to his ear.

Adam's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth finally formed a smile; the seeable equivalent of the sun shining so bright in his chest. "You're an asshole, Lynch."

Ronan started pinching his sides.

There was a lot of scrambling and more playful shoving and wrestling on the ground. Adam pulled Ronan out of his plank and managed to roll him over, so now they were both laying on the wooden floor. They were both laughing, giggling. It was ridiculous.

Eventually, Adam hitched a leg up and pushed all of his weight against Ronan, so he rolled onto his back and Adam straddled his hips. For a moment, Adam saw the surprise in Ronan's eyes. He was always taken aback at how physically strong Adam could be when the situation called for it.

Adam liked that look of surprise.

He liked it a lot.

So he decided to do him one better.

In a quick, swift motion, Adam grabbed Ronan's wrists and pinned them to the ground above his head. It was very easy. Mostly because Ronan didn't see it coming, but also because when he caught on, he didn't fight it.

Adam's face was now close to Ronan's.

Ronan, without breaking eye contact with Adam, wiggled his hands a couple of times. Adam knew he could do better; Adam knew Ronan liked this.

Nonetheless, Adam grinned. "I'm stronger than you."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for that," Ronan said before lifting his head up from the floor to capture Adam's lips in a kiss.

It was a strange paradox Adam couldn't seem to understand; how he felt so still around Ronan, but his heart was still thundering in his chest. He was at peace, felt safe, but simultaneously, he felt a strange thrill as if he was committing a sweet but dangerous crime. Adam didn't think he would ever figure out how that could be.

With the distraction of the kiss, Ronan wiggled his hands again, causing Adam's grip to loosen. He didn't do much more though because, again, Adam knew he actually liked it.

Adam felt Ronan's breathing hitch when he brushed one of his thumbs over the other boy's palm, down to the wrist. His fingers caught on the string of leather bands Ronan always wore.

Adam knew what they were hiding.

He skimmed his fingers over them, but then he felt a strange sort of urge. He broke the kiss and opened his eyes to watch his index and middle finger slipping underneath the bracelets.

Ronan held his breath.

Adam felt the raised skin of the scars. He knew they were there. He'd seen them before. He understood this about Ronan. He didn't expect for this to be the most intimate touch they would ever share, but yet it was.

Adam's fingers were still trapped against Ronan's wrist when he looked back down. Ronan's eyes were all pupils with a thin, bright blue ring around them. There was no surprise in them now, no bewilderment or uncertainty.

"I love you."

If Adam hadn't seen Ronan's lips form the words, he would have started and looked over his shoulder to see if someone had entered the room. But he did see, and he did hear, and there was no place for misunderstanding.

As his immediate reaction, a thousand thoughts came to mind at once, none of them fully formed.

Adam hadn't expected it. He hadn't even thought about it. Which was probably stupid. He should have thought about it, he should have been freaking out about this ever since he noticed the looks Ronan gave him and the looks he was giving in return.

Truth was, Adam never expected to ever hear these words. From anyone.

All of his life, he'd been called a burden, an unfortunance; had been told no, had been told It's not gonna be you, Adam; had been pushed, had been shoved, had been hit, hit, hit.

Ronan's lips were still slightly parted, that last word still lingering on them. You. You, you, you. You, Adam.

Adam watched him swallow, watched him hold on to the certainty in his eyes, watched him not regret the words.

Adam had never believed in being at a loss for words. He'd always trusted that if one had enough wits, there'd always be the right words at hand. But now there was a lump in his throat — or maybe it was just his heart — and he couldn't speak. Even if he wanted to, even if all his wits hadn't just spontaneously left him, he wouldn't be able to get any words out.

There was not a trace of disappointment on Ronan's face.

Of course, Adam's brain told him to look deeper into it, to doubt it, to dig until he found the hurt expression because he physically wasn't able to say the words back. His brain instructed him to scramble back, get up from where he was sitting on top of Ronan, get out of the house and give Ronan a reason to finally wake up and realize that it couldn't be him. It was never going to be him.

Ronan shimmied his hands until they were free of Adam's.

Adam's stomach sank and sank and sank and his heart rose and rose and rose until it was pressing against the lump in his throat so hard, he felt like he was going to throw up.

Then Ronan's hands were on his face, pulling him closer. They were kissing again, and it was the warmth and familiarity of that kiss, and the harsh brush of the leather bracelets against Adam's jaw, that muffled the doubt.

Adam's heart pushed past the lump in his throat as he deepened the kiss. There was no space for words anymore, but he still tried to match Ronan's gesture. Adam didn't think he really believed Ronan, or at least, he didn't understand it. Why would anyone love Adam Parrish?

"I get it," Ronan spoke into his mouth. At first, Adam wasn't sure if he'd actually spoken or if it was another one of those instances where he could hear what Ronan wasn't saying. But he'd felt his lips forming the words.

I get it.

The words had flavor. They exploded with their meaning. Adam didn't have to look deeper into them to understand it. I get it. I get you. I know you, Adam.

There was hesitation, of course there was, and Adam felt silly for it — Hadn't he been through enough with Ronan? Hadn't he been sure about all of this? — but he finally met Ronan's eyes again. They were still all pupil.

He was sure about all this. There was no doubt about it.

"I know you," Ronan said, and those words felt almost as charged as the ones that scared Adam. There was a pause, but not a long one, before Ronan added, "Like a second self."

Adam kissed him again.

chapter 2

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pro-bee · 4 years

Text

Ziva David Week Day 2: Favourite episode

I’m gonna cheat here and pick 2, because they go together: Hiatus Part 1 & 2.

(Once again, all screencaps courtesy of NCIS Source. Part 1 and Part 2)

I love Ziva in these two episodes, because we get insight into her feelings in a way we haven’t really so far in the series at this point, and I think it sets up so much of what comes later on, arguably even into the present day.

Yes, the story focuses mainly on Gibbs’ and his amnesia, and Ziva doesn’t have as large a role in these episodes as she would later on, but her scenes pack a punch, and her presence is what ultimately brings the Gibbs they all know and love back.

We get to see Ziva run the whole gamut of emotions, from lighthearted to devastated to snarky to angry to compassionate, and each moment is allowed its own time to shine. It’s quite surprised watching this with the benefit of hindsight to see how integral her role is to the story, especially towards Gibbs, given that at this point she is the newest team member. As we come to learn, though, she also has the most unique connection of any of them to their fearless leader.

I love how the episode opens up with the Three Musketeers on what they think is just another stakeout, teasing each other about movies and generally being idiots.

I mean, how adorable is Ziva when Tony makes the “Sound of Music” reference and she lights up, because she loves that movie? It’s a shame Tony shushed her when she was about to belt out the theme, because as we now know, Ziva’s got some pipes on her. (If only you knew, Tony.)

Ziva was allowed to be jokey and funny and even girly at times in the early episodes, and it’s moments like this where you can actually see how young Ziva is, despite her demeanour. She is competent and professional, but she is also only what, 23 at this point? Most young women her age are still hanging out with their friends at bars on weekends between studying for finals or working their entry-level jobs, whereas she’s trying to save the world from bad guys. She’s so serious so much of the time that it tickles me when we get to see this playful side to her, and not in the “flirty with Tony until he starts sweating” kind of way, but in an almost childlike, joyful manner.

Of course, it’s short-lived in this episode, because Gibbs gets himself blown up right in front of them and all hell breaks loose.

After that, we see Ziva go right into professional mode, and we bump into the first of many conflicts about the outside world’s assumptions about her.

Ducky is the first (of many) to question her ability to feel affection and compassion, when he is astounded that she didn’t ask the paramedics which hospital they took Gibbs to. Ziva rightfully answers that she had a job to do, that once she made sure Gibbs was being taken care of by medical professionals, she then moved onto her job, which was to immediately secure the crime scene -- which is exactly what Gibbs would have done. She knew he was in good hands so she worked on what she was good at, because she had a mission to accomplish.

(lol sidebar, I had my first aid recert the other week and the trainer was emphasizing how your job as first on the scene is to administer cpr until the medical professionals arrive, but when they do take over, your job is done, you can’t carry that with you because you don’t have the training they do, you do your best and that’s enough -- and I feel like that’s exactly the mindset Ziva has.)

Of course, once Ziva pointedly tells him she was a little busy dealing with a fucking explosion to remember to ask which hospital Gibbs was at, Ducky absentmindedly says that Tony or McGee will know, and that stings, because it’s the first of many implications that she doesn’t care enough, and they do. Which we all know is false, but this is a running theme in the show (as we talked about yesterday with Damon’s episode) about how the Ziva the world seems to see isn’t who she really is inside, and she struggles to show herself in ways people understand, because she isn’t outwardly demonstrative in the manner that, say, Abby is.

“Ziva I’m not implying you don’t care. I know you care.”

It’s too late though, because the words have already sunk in. You don’t care. We all know that’s not true, and Ziva knows it’s not true, but that is all people see of her, and it rattles her.

Never mind that a year ago, before she moved to the US, that would probably be seen as an asset to her father, an indication that she can detach to get the job done. But as we now know, she never really could detach -- she just repressed. That no one would have questioned whether she cared enough to remember which hospital her coworker was at -- but that’s also because no one probably cared enough about her as a person to question her own motives.

But now she has something to hold onto. She cares about these people, and she cares what they think, which is why it’s so frustrating when she doesn’t seem to be living up to their expectations.

I feel so much for her here, because we know that she is just doing her job. The best thing she can do right now is to investigate, like she’s been trained to do for the last year, because that is what they need to do to help Gibbs. But her cooler head prevailing kind of exposes the downside of how close their unit is, because when her doing her job is seen as suspicious, it exposes them to greater troubles in times of crisis like these.

Meanwhile, what impresses me so much is precisely how quickly Ziva jumps into action. She is really fucking good at her job. This job that she chose, for the first time in her life, and one she loves. She gets shit done, fast. She is the one who secures the crime scene, directs technicians to their posts, surveys what equipment they need and where, all before Ducky gets there. She has absolutely flourished under Gibbs’ wing, and even just this short time later, she is already demonstrating leadership qualities.

Case in point: when they’re back on the ship, Ziva is the one who is able to survey the scene of the explosion and identify its similarities to a suicide bomber, both because of her own experience growing up in Israel and being a part of Mossad, I’m sure, but also because she has been observing and studying over this past year. While McGee is sick at the sight of blood, unable to really do his job to its fullest here, it’s Ziva who kind of takes charge, and plays second to Tony’s Agent in Charge. (No slight on McGee -- it’s just further evidence of how Ziva has taken to this, and that her background is an unfortunate asset to her in this kind of work.) I think that Tony recognizes that, too.

Yet, a quiet moment that is oddly beautiful is when they are at the crime scene, and Ziva notices that it’s raining.

It’s such a tonal shift from the rest of the scene, but it’s like the rain is so soothing to her, especially in that moment. I’m not quite sure why this stands out so much, why they made a point of her being comforted by that. Is it because she would welcome the rain on the rare times it happened when she was a kid? Is it because it’s going to wash away the wreck of the day? Does it offer her a clean slate? Who knows! She just seems transfixed in a way that is un-Ziva-like.

So it goes for both of the episodes: It is Ziva’s professionalism that actually helps them, and we really see her investigative skills shine. I imagine that is because the work gives her something to focus on when everything and everyone else seem to be falling apart. But the great thing is that this is the whole reason she came to NCIS, whether she intended for it to be or not: she is making choices for herself and thinking for herself. She gets to take charge on leads and check into things that don’t feel right. She has gained an independence of body and mind in DC that she never really knew she needed when she was still working for her father.

She’s on a roll, here. She’s fired up about the case, not only because it directly involves Gibbs, but because she’s looking at the puzzle and knows something isn’t right. “What is wrong with this picture?” she asks, because she realizes the track they’re on doesn’t make sense, regardless of whatever issues are going in within the team. And when she points all that out, I love that Tony has her back: “Damn good summation.” Because he can tease her as much as he’d like, but he had no problem admitting when she is right, and that’s what he needs.

And another thing I love about this, because I am Tiva trash (although this isn’t a Tiva episode) is that it quickly becomes evident how bonded Tony and Ziva are, too. Not just in a romantic sense, but professionally-speaking as well. For instance, from the outset, Abby is quick to remind Tony that he is not Gibbs, even though as senior agent he is in charge. There’s an air of petulance to it, knocking him down for being too haughty, but the thing is, he is doing his job. (In retrospect, these are... really not good episodes for Abs.) So other people joke about Tony impersonating Gibbs, but Ziva is the only one who backs him up, and not in a dramatic, show-y fashion, but through her actions. She doesn’t doubt him, she follows his lead, she does as she’s told not because she’s a doormat, but because she knows what they have to all do to move the investigation along, and she knows that Tony knows and that is why he is ordering them. (That may be the impetus for a fanfic I wrote years ago lol.)

In turn, it also becomes obvious how much Tony has come to rely on Ziva, too. Throughout the episode, she becomes the one he bounces ideas off of, confides in over his suspicions that they’re missing something. He knows that Ziva is the only one who doesn’t resent him, doesn’t make fun of him for throwing ideas out there, actually treats him like he is their boss, albeit in the interim. It’s not just because they like to flirt or get into each other’s pants, it’s because they’re both professionals and recognize that in each other, especially in this time of crisis.

But, they are indeed in a time of crisis, and all this emotional upheaval does eventually get to our baby agent.

First, we had the accusation by Ducky, and then later on, after an ill-advised attempt at black humour to Abby to defuse the tension, she is once again painted as an uncaring robot. (Like I said... this is not Abby’s finest hour.) It all leads to her mini-breakdown in the bathroom, when everything comes to a head. I’m struck now by how soft the scene is, how positively young and vulnerable Ziva is -- splashing her face with water, eyes full of tears, trying to get a hold of herself. How despite her no-nonsense demeanour, she is barely an adult herself, not that far removed from her girlhood dreams and traumas. And the very thing she does to be helpful -- sticking to the task at hand -- is what is isolating her from everyone around her.

She is hurt.

Hurt that she is misunderstood. Hurt that people she’s come to consider friends don’t seem to trust her. Hurt that she has no one to confide in.

We rarely see Ziva cry on this show, and this might be the softest moment she ever gets to experience. The memories she replays as she stares at her reflection -- Ducky insisting Tony and McGee would know when she wouldn’t, Abby’s anger at her -- are what she worries she reflects to the world. It is so heartbreaking to watch.

What it demonstrates, though, is how lost Ziva is without Gibbs there. How they all are. But what this arc does is show that Gibbs is the only one at this point who truly gets her. He did from day one, the second she pulled the trigger on Ari. He saw who she really was, the depths of her convictions, and he’s offered her a safe port in the storm of her life. And now on her own, without him to steady her course, she’s adrift. Because I think what these episodes show is that yes, Ziva has grown immensely and been allowed to blossom at NCIS, but she’s done so because Gibbs’ guidance to their whole team has given her the safe space and confidence to be who she is. Without him there to give her a safety net, she’s back to being just another soldier.

I don’t mean that in the sense that she does everything for him despite what the show will imply years later. What I mean is that like anyone else lucky enough to have a supportive parent, Gibbs’ presence in her life has given her the reassurance to be who she is, not who the world thinks she should be. Without him there, she is weighed down by others’ perceptions of her, and she starts internalizing them. (Which, holy shit, ends up coming back in season 17. Is this our first glimpse of anxiety-ridden Ziva?)

She is desperate to get him back, because that is the only way to get herself back

“What can I do?” “Remember!”

Which is why she is the one who later confronts Amnesiac!Gibbs in his hospital room, because she is so desperate to get him back, to get herself back. It is so significant to the show’s canon that Ziva is the one to finally jog his memory, and again it is not a slight against the other characters, or an indication that she is better than them all (although personally I do think so because she is my favourite after all).

It’s not that he doesn’t love the others as much, or that his longer and deeper history with them isn’t as important. It’s that he and Ziva shared a profound experience together unlike any of the others, and that forged a deep connection. The second Ziva pulled the trigger on Ari, she sealed their fate. (Again which is why I hate the season 7 retcon of her actions, but ultimately the end result is that she shot him to save Gibbs, so it still mostly tracks.)

That leads to her even-bigger breakdown, because everything she’s been holding in for the last few days -- and ultimately for the last year -- comes to a head. Yes, she’s hurt over Gibbs’ accident and everyone’s dismissal of her, but really, she’s hurt over what happened with Ari which she’s never been allowed to process. She can’t deal with it at home in Israel because Ari was a loose cannon, a traitor who needed to be terminated. She can’t deal with it in DC, because there he was a villain who took the life of one of their own.

But to her, he was her brother. The brother she loved and who she thought loved her, the one she grew up idolizing and shadowed professionally, the one she fought tooth and nail to save until she realized there was no choice. And she is never, ever allowed to grieve that. For fuck’s sake, we later learn that their own father ordered his execution. I would guess there probably wouldn’t be much thought to, you know, trauma counselling for his family, including Ziva, for what he put them through, or dealing with having to be the one to stop him. I imagine Eli’s advice was to forget about it and move on, which is part of why Ziva had to get the fuck out of Tel Aviv.

(Sidebar: in my head canon, in the later years at some point post-Tiva, they’d be sitting around talking about things and the subject of Ari would come up, and Ziva would kind of clam up about it, and when Tony would ask her about it, she’d be like, “I know you guys don’t want to ever hear about him, because he was the monster who killed Kate, but... he was also my brother. He was the guy who taught me how to ride a bike and took me for car rides just to listen to music for hours and hours when things got bad between my mother and father and I can’t separate that from who he became. And I can’t ever say any of that out loud because what he did was awful but... he was my brother.”)

“What are you talking about?” “Ari! Ari killed Kate. And I... I killed Ari.” “... Your brother.” “Yes.” “You killed your brother to save me.”

This is just such a huge moment for them.

Because for Ziva, that is probably the first time she’s said those words out loud since it happened. And it’s probably the first time she’s let that grief spill out of her.

Probably the first time someone has comforted her for her loss.

And it is so, so important for her that someone recognizes that. That someone acknowledges the magnitude of what happened, of how it broke her. Of how she’s still broken.

That is the only moment of warmth anyone has shown her all episode, and frankly all series to date.

This isn’t Ziva with no feelings. This is Ziva with feelings so deep she can’t handle them, and they come bursting out in a giant fit of anguish. It’s such a monumental moment for her character, because it reflects all of what has happened in the season leading up to this point. Ziva hasn’t talked about Ari at all since she joined NCIS, since that moment in the elevator where Gibbs recognized what she did for him, and why she needed to break free and start over in DC, far away from her father.

Because I imagine that to her father and Mossad, what she did was treated as professional. That she did her job.

But this wasn’t a job.

She killed her own brother to save another man.

A man who was a total stranger to her, but one who she knew to be good, and more importantly, the confirmation that her brother was not good, that he was not the man she thought he was, and that if she didn’t stop him, he was going to ruin other people’s lives.

(No wonder Ziva is still consumed with anxiety almost 15 years later.)

Ultimately, the reason Ziva’s breakdown triggers Gibbs’ memory again is because she gives him something to come back for. Gibbs was lost without Shannon and Kelly when he was in his first coma in 1991, and all these years later, his doctors have said that there’s no good reason for him to still be stuck in the past in his brain, because his injuries were not severe enough to warrant it. But he stays there because he can’t live without Shannon and Kelly. But here is Ziva, the woman who saved his life, chose his over that of her own family, and she is laying her emotions bare in front of him. And she needs him. That protection he offered her that night in his basement gave her a reason to live, and him as well.

Reminding him of Ari was reminding herself of what she did, how she was in pain just like he was, and she needed a light to guide her way back. And it turns out he needed that too.

(Can you tell this is one of my favourite scenes ever?)

Ziva have him a reason to come back.

Which he does, thanks to her, and eventually they do solve their case, even if it ends in disaster, which in turn prompts him to leave the job behind.

(OT: I have always loved how much trust Gibbs puts in Tony in his absence, how he entrusts Tony with the team when he decides to “retire”. TONY IS A GOOD TEAM LEADER AND THAT IS THE TEA. He did not deserve the crap he got from Abby and McGee about it. Again, Ziva is the only one who recognizes it.)

“I owe you, Ziva.” “I’ll collect, Jethro.”

This is just so soft. Again, Ziva is still in a raw state, and she’s teary-eyed as she watches him give his goodbyes, then eventually to her. (Also, thank goodness this is the only time she calls him “Jethro” because it just sounds weird coming from any of the agents.) It is the most sincere and the most loaded of the goodbyes, because they have just shared another monumental experience together, alone, and it cuts deeply.

Which is why today, in the year of our lord two-thousand-and-nineteen, we are still dealing with the aftermath of this.

How their relationship is still this charged and steeped in personal trauma but also in this wartime-like spirit of saving your comrade in arms.

How it’s natural that Ziva feels so hurt at Gibbs “abandoning” her (whether you agree with her or not), because once upon a time he was the person who saved her soul and help her heal, and gave her the opportunity to follow her own heart and her own path, and she ended up feeling lost without that. (Again, it’s up to you to believe if that is truly the case, but I think the point the show has made is that Ziva believes it, which this episode cemented.)

How Ziva is still riddled with guilt and self-doubt, who still believes she is a lost cause when people accuse her of being unfeeling.

How Ziva’s heart is actually so huge, and it’s a miracle she found her place in NCIS so that she could start letting the world know it.

It’s just... I have so many feelings about these scenes, and I could still talk about it for hours, but Day 2 is almost Day 3 and I gotta get this posted.

But I had to get this off my chest, because these episodes are SO IMPORTANT for her character. We learn a little bit about her and a lot about her heart, and she takes the lead as the emotional centre of the story for the arc. Because she remembers.

----

Also more unrelated thoughts about why I love these episodes:

Ziva was allowed to be funny and lighthearted early on and I miss it.

“What if those were Gibbs’ guts smushed all over that room?” The colour would be more coffee brown than red.” ZIVA! ZIVA IS SO FUNNY! Ah, gallows humour. I understand Abby was upset but THAT WAS A DAMN FUNNY JOKE. Again, Ziva was allowed to be so much funnier in first few seasons and it’s a shame the show wrote that out of her and replaced it with more trauma.

(Also the slap-fest was such a token male fantasy and it was gross. Stop it, Show.)

(But Abby deserved it a little because she was hysterical.)

“Never doubt an Israeli about diamonds” I don’t even know if that is an actual thing or just a Ziva-ism they made up, but, lol, Ziva sure does know a lot about diamonds for a girl who lives in cammo half the time. I know her dad taught her a lot about them bla bla bla secret slush funds I don’t care, Ziva is girly sometimes. Someone better put a ring on it.

We get to see Ziva use her considerable language skills in this episode!

Including French!

Ziva can and will fuck your shit up:

#zivadavidweek2019 #ziva david #hiatus part 1 #hiatus part 2 #3x23 #3x24 #i love me some ziva feels #baby ziva needs a hug #long post #very long post #like the episodes as a whole aren't ziva centric #but they are #because she's the emotional centre #and i love me an episode that dives into that

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years

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Running Scared: Facets of Film

In the midst of the discussions on plot, characters, structure and tropes, the story that makes up the films we watch, it can be easy to overlook another important aspect of film: the actual moviemaking.

As vital as the actual story is to film, the fact is, without the storytelling devices used onscreen, they’re just words on a page. It’s up to the film crew and director to take the plot and characters on the pages and use the tools at their disposal to create a movie.

And that’s not as easy as it might sound. There’s a lot to it.

Costumes. Sets. Cameras. Lighting. Props. Music. Special Effects. Performances. All of this, and more, go into the process of making a film. These elements exist as what I call ‘storytelling devices’, facets of moviemaking designed specifically to use visual (or audio) shorthand in order to explain things to the audience, without having to use dialogue or exposition to do so.

A competent film will use these elements well enough. Examples of ‘competently made’ films are everywhere, and you probably know them when you see them. They’re not great, and they’re not bad, they’re just okay. ‘Okay’ films know how to use these elements, but a ‘great’ film knows how to use them really well. We’ve taken a look at a few of those ‘great’ films on this blog before, notably Casablanca, which was our last film.

Today, however, we’re taking a look at Running Scared, which you’ve probably figured out by the title. Specifically, we’re going to see whether Running Scared uses these ‘facets of film’ competently, (not using them to overshadow the plot or characters, or using them too little) or whether or not they use them well.

Let’s take a look, starting with an element that can sometimes be overlooked: camerawork. (Spoilers below!)

So, much like the ‘storytelling shorthand’ in general, camerawork is noticeable in the hands of a competent filmmaker. When used to its full advantage, however, we have unforgettable shots like the final shot of Psycho, or the image of Luke Skywalker half concealed by shadow in Return of the Jedi. The question is, which category does Running Scared fall into?

See, there’s more to camerawork than simply pointing it at the actors and letting them do their thing. There’s angles, lighting, and movement to consider in order to make a scene look like it’s shot well. As for Running Scared?

Well….this one, as far as camerawork is concerned, largely falls into the mediocre category. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Not every film is a masterpiece, and the film is shot very competently. There’s proper emphasis on what needs to be emphasized, (the containers made of cocaine, or the shots of Ray participating in the shootout while dangling from the window-washing rig) and the shots of Chicago are certainly nice enough. On the other hand, there is a glaring example of camerawork that really could have been used better: the car chase.

In the otherwise exciting car chase set on a set of railroad tracks, the camera is used….more like it would be in a conversation. The scene is full of ‘point of view’ shots, rendering the excitement and suspense of the scene rather anticlimactic. The camera really isn’t used to build the interest of the viewers, and as a result, the audience isn’t quite as invested. They aren’t drawn into the action, instead, they are thoroughly reminded of the fact that they are, in fact, the audience. Watching, not experiencing.

It’s a small complaint, to be fair. Does the film as a whole suffer from it? Not exactly. It certainly doesn’t ruin it, but it is something of note. The camera is used best when it sucks the viewers into the action, helping us to experience it with the characters, and as a result, being far more invested.

The visuals of the film overall very much follow this precedent, being good, but not great. There’s nothing that stands out by way of costuming, and there isn’t much by way of special effects. (Although the ‘snow’ in the city doesn’t look very good.) The music, on the other hand?

The soundtrack for Running Scared does lend this film a bit of an identity in and of itself, especially set alongside the shots of the city of Chicago. It’s a very contemporary score, full of pop songs by famous singers at the time, but the songs are all good, and it doesn’t feel jarring when a track starts playing. It feels natural and consistent with the tone of the film, while not being hugely standoutish.

Honestly, most of this film falls into the category of being ‘good, but not standoutish’. It’s good. It’s passable, fun, a little better than competent, perhaps, but by no means great, not even to the standards of Ladyhawke. There is one element however, that manages to exceed ‘mediocre’, arguably the most important of these facets:

Performances.

Now, as I mentioned in my ‘Character’ article on this film, Anna and notably Julio Gonzales aren’t really given a lot of characterization or screentime, and as a result, we don’t get a whole lot of ‘performance’ to judge them on, but with what we are given, we can deduce that they are both acted well enough. Gonzales convincingly looks like a bad guy who is getting exasperated with being chased by the law, and Anna?

Anna comes across very succinctly the way she is supposed to: a down-to-earth woman with a lot of common sense who has strong feelings for a man who seems like the reverse. She isn’t unkind, and she’s understanding to a point. She’s moving on, getting married again, while also admitting that she didn’t divorce Danny because she wanted to, it’s because she felt he was immature. Darlanne Fluegel portrays this perfectly, as she also does the intense emotions in the shootout scene at the end. She has good chemistry with the actors she’s with, and does a convincing job of portraying the character.

But of course, the heart of the movie is Danny and Ray.

Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines are the standout gems in this film, working off one another beautifully. The characters they play, while not being as fleshed out as they could have been, are very vibrantly portrayed.

Danny Costanzo comes across as a snarky cowboy cop with a passion for sports. He’s cocky and funny, and while he acts a tad immature at times, there’s no question about his competence. Crystal’s portrayal of a good cop who just wants to retire early comes across as believable, if not especially deep.

Ray Hughes is very similar as a character, if a bit more grounded than Danny is. Hines pulls off a portrayal of a cop without regard for procedure, but still possessing a good amount of common sense to balance out his Manchild partner. He’s not the straight man, (neither of the pair are) but he does manage to portray a very good cop who tends to have a clearer head.

Of course, as in any good buddy-cop movie, the characters work best when they’re together. The chemistry between the main leads is essential, and without it, the film would, of course, fall apart. Thankfully, the performances are in good hands. Crystal and Hines portray the friendship between the two characters perfectly while also bringing their own talents to the table, making the connection the most vibrant and memorable part of the film.

As far as storytelling devices and their uses go, Running Scared is perfectly serviceable. It’s fun, and lighthearted, exciting and entertaining. The tone blends action and comedy together well, assisted by the performances from the main cast. The entire mood of the movie comes together to make a comfortable, enjoyable movie. It’s not a masterpiece by any means, but it works well for what it is.

Running Scared is a largely forgotten film, lost in a sea of other, similar, more popular movies. It received mixed reception and mixed success, described as a tonally inconsistent film with nothing new to add to the genre. On the other hand, some praise it for its humor and action, and admire the slightly different take on the genre that they decided to go in. Overall, it comes across as a genuinely fun, exciting film that, while not great, was still good.

Join us next time, where we’ll be taking a look at the behind-the-scenes of Running Scared.

Thank you guys so much for reading! Don’t forget that my ask box is always open for suggestions, discussions, questions, or conversations. I hope to see you all in the next article.

#Running Scared #Running Scared 1986 #1986 #80s #Film #Movies #Action #Comedy #Crime #Thriller #Buddy Cop #R #Billy Crystal #Gregory Hines #Darlanne Fluegel #Jimmy Smits #Peter Hyams

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im-fairly-whitty · 5 years

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The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher!AU

[Arc 1]

Arc 2: [Together] [A Talk] [The Visit] [Time] [Shot] [Dropping In]

Chapter 7: Penultimate

When Hector had said he was going to breakfast with his mother, Imelda had been perfectly happy to postpone her Saturday’s plans to keep an eye on Miguel for the morning. But as morning turned into afternoon Imelda began to be annoyed, and as afternoon turned to evening without even an explanatory text from Hector, Imelda was beginning to panic.

Which was ridiculous, Hector was a grown man with his adult mother catching up after years of not seeing each other. Honestly, she should have expected his visit to go longer than they’d anticipated.

But she still couldn’t shake her growing anxiety as the sun set, leaving her alone in her apartment with only Miguel and her unanswered texts on her phone.

“Is Tio Hector ever coming back?” Miguel huffed, pulling his blanket tighter and looking up at Imelda from where he was leaned against her side, both of them on her couch watching yet another episode of El Tigre, having moved to her apartment around lunchtime, “Did Tia Mari kidnap him or something? We were supposed to go see a movie today, Tio Hector promised.”

“Si, I know, but Hector hasn’t seen his mamá in a very long time, I’m sure they’ve just lost track of things.” Imelda said, ruffling Miguel’s hair but only getting a grumpy sigh in reply, “In fact,” Imelda said, checking the time on her phone yet again and keeping her voice light despite the grim feeling she got from seeing the time, “it’s way past your bedtime, even for a Saturday.”

“I don’t waaaant to sleeeep.” Miguel complained, slumping across her lap with a moan, his voice muffled in the thick blanket wrapped around him, “We don’t even have school tomorrow, can’t I stay up until Tio Hector’s home?”

“If I had any idea when that would be I might say yes,” Imelda said, her own annoyance with Hector starting to show, “but as it stands that might mean letting you stay up forever, and I can’t risk it.”

Miguel struggled and twisted in his blanket to look up at her, his eyes wide, “He is coming back right?” he asked, his voice that wavering tone that kids always got when they weren’t sure if an adult was really joking or not.

“Of course he is.” Imelda chided, hefting him up off her lap so she could stand, “Don’t be silly, he’ll probably walk in as soon as you’re in bed.”

“Sorry...I just, I know Tia Mari leaves for years sometimes...” Miguel said, sounding embarrassed as he struggled to untangle himself from the blanket. “Can I at least sleep here tonight?”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Imelda said, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that had just come over her, picking up the remote to shut off the TV instead, “Do you want any more blankets?”

“No gracias.” Miguel said, pulling one of the throw pillows toward him and tugging the blanket up, only pausing to let Pepita hop up and curl up by his side.

Imelda hesitated, she really should get him to brush his teeth, but both of them were still in their pajamas from the morning anyway and she’d really rather find out where Hector had gotten to.

“Goodnight, Miguel.” Imelda said, flipping off the living room lights, leaving the kitchen lights on for him.

“Goodnight!”

Imelda pulled out her phone as she walked down the hallway, passing her bedroom door and opting for her front step instead, closing the apartment door behind her and sitting at the top of the outside stairs, the night air brushing past her.

It had been twelve hours without a single response from Hector, the sun had set and they’d had plans that day that had gone un-rescheduled, worrying about him was completely justified at this point, right?

Imelda unconsciously fiddled with her necklace’s pendant as she scrolled through her phone. Sending Hector yet another text or trying to call him again wouldn’t do much at this point, but...maybe...

She sighed, pulling up Ernesto’s number in her phone before she could change her mind.

This is Imelda, have you heard from Hector at all today? I haven’t been able to contact him since he left this morning.

She hit send, chewing on her lip as she rested her chin in her hand. She hadn’t talked to Ernesto in weeks, and from what she could tell he and Hector had been on thin ice for months now. She’d been unable to get Hector to talk about it at all beyond a quick unconvincing shrug and a “he’s just like that sometimes”.

She looked down as her phone vibrated.

Welcome to Mari. Where do you think Hector gets his unreliable idiocy from?

Imelda bristled, nearly shutting her phone off as another text pinged in.

Good luck having that thing as a mother-in-law btw, she’s been making him miserable our entire lives and he STILL rolls over for her whenever she appears.

The sick feeling in Imelda’s stomach intensified. Aside from apparently knowing about the engagement, as snarky as Ernesto was being he was also putting her fears into words and she knew it. What little she’d heard about Mari had been anything but confidence inspiring, making her sound more like an obstacle Hector had been trying to overcome his entire life, not like someone that could make things any better by her return.

And as much as she and Ernesto hated the sight of each other, he was the one who had grown up with Hector, he probably knew Mari as well as Hector did.

Imelda started typing a reply, discarding half a dozen much sharper options before settling on Please let me know if you hear from him.

She sighed, pressing her thumb against her eyebrow. Hector has come in late without telling her before, he’d gone a whole day without texting her before. But it had been so long since he’d done that, she’d thought he’d gotten better than that, that he’d-

“Getting some fresh air, diosa?”

Imelda jumped, looking up to see Hector climbing up the stairway to her.

“Where have you been?” she asked, shoving her phone in her pocket and getting to her feet as he reached her.

“Everywhere, it feels like,” Hector said, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. As he pulled back Imelda could see how exhausted he looked under his smile, “I’m so sorry I was out so long Imelda, I-”

“Why didn’t you text me back?” Imelda asked, consciously reigning in her anger and keeping her voice down. As much as part of her wanted to give in to his obvious desire to relax together, she couldn’t help the hurt and anxious feeling still roiling inside her. “I’m glad you’ve been able to reconnect with your mother, but we had plans today, I had things I needed to get done.”

“I left my phone at home, I didn’t even realize it was gone until after lunch.” Hector said, grimacing as he took her hands, “And then before I knew it, it was already dark. I’m really sorry for worrying you, it’s just, I haven’t seen my mother in so long, and she was so excited for me to take her all over the city.”

Imelda sighed, sitting down on the step again, leaving room for Hector to sit beside her. “So what was it that you two did all day then?” She asked, trying to let her annoyance drop. This was an extenuating circumstance, it would be unfair to stay upset about it. And besides, he was safe, which was what really mattered.

“Well, we did go to breakfast,” Hector said, sounding relieved as he sat down beside her, “then we talked for a long time...after that she wanted to see the school so we went there. Then she wanted me to take her around the city, then we dropped in on some of her friends, then we went to a performance at a bar she’d heard about.” Hector rubbed his face tiredly, “I think that was everything, she’s got an incredible amount of energy, I’ll give her that.”

“Did...you have a good time?” Imelda asked, looking over at him.

“Of course!” Hector said, quickly pulling his smile back on, “She’s my mother, it was amazing to spend a whole day with her, there’s so much I’ve missed out knowing about her.”

It took every bit of Imelda’s self-control to keep from correcting him, that Mari was the one who had missed out on him.

“Well, it sounds like you could use some rest.” Imelda said, moving to get up again, but Hector caught her hand.

“I, uh, actually I wanted to talk to you about something.” Hector said quickly, the anxious tone in his voice putting Imelda on edge as she slowly sat back down. Hector kept ahold of her hand, idly stroking it as he continued, “So, this morning, when we were at breakfast, my mother was talking about an opportunity she has for me and Ernesto.”

“Oh?” Imelda said, only years of professional experience keeping her voice level.

“Sí,” Hector said, his thumb tracing circles on her palm, “she has a lot of connections in the music world, and she has a friend who’s an agent with a recording label that Ernesto’s been trying to get in with for ages. We’ll still have to go through some hoops to get it, but this could be the big break that we’ve been looking for.”

What?

Imelda blinked, completely blindsided. She hadn’t even heard him talk about Ernesto’s channel in months.

“You’re still doing music with Ernesto?” she asked slowly, “I didn’t know that, you haven’t mentioned it in ages.”

“Of course I am! I mean, we’ve both put so much work into it for years, I’ve just been really busy the last few months with other things,” Hector glanced up at her for a moment with a smile before looking down again, “I can’t just throw all that work away...and if this panned out, then it could end up being a lot more lucrative than teaching.”

Imelda stiffened, “You’re...quitting your job?” She said, feeling a bit like she’d slipped off the top step.

“No! I mean, not yet, I’m just thinking ahead!” Hector said hurriedly, no doubt seeing the look on her face, “I mean, Imelda, when we’re married I want to be able to provide for our family, and if I got back to working with Ernesto on music full-time and traveling then I could make plenty of money for us. We could push back the wedding a few more months, maybe until next year so that when we do officially get married we-”

“Hector, what are you talking about?” Imelda asked, staring at him, pulling her hand away from his, “This is a huge change in plans, you’ve never even mentioned a possibility like this. You’re talking about being on the road performing with Ernesto for a living?”

“Look, I know it’s a little out of the blue,” Hector said, swallowing, “but I’d probably only have to travel for the first couple of years, and then when we settle down you and Miguel and, well, any other kids that might come along will have everything they could ever want.”

“Years?” Imelda said, staring at him in shock, “Hector, if you’re out traveling for years then what’s even the point of getting married?”

Hector sat back, looking like he’d just been slapped. The fragile stunned look on his face made Imelda’s stomach twist.

“Hector, no,” Imelda said, reaching for his hand again, “I don’t mean it like that, I’m just, I don’t know why your mother coming into town is suddenly changing everything.”

“It’s not, I just, I just want to make sure that you don’t regret this.” Hector said, the unsteady tone in his voice making Imelda panic, “This could be my chance to make sure everyone’s happy, I’ll get to spend more time with my mother, Ernesto and I will get to accomplish everything we’ve worked so hard for, and I’ll be able to give you the kind of life you deserve.”

Imelda felt disoriented at the extreme emotional charge in Hector’s voice as he leaned in intently, holding her hand tight, as if she’d boarded a bus going the opposite direction of what she’d wanted. She had no idea why he was so suddenly intent on being able to provide, or why he sounded like he was being backed into a corner, or why it looked like he was going to cry under the strain of some unseen weight. Maybe it was the strain of being engaged? Maybe it had something to do with something his mother had said?

All she knew for sure was that she had the distinct feeling that another wrong move on her part could do all kinds of damage, and she had no idea what that wrong move might even be.

“That’s...great, Hector.” Imelda said, pulling on a smile that she hoped would hide her confusion and worry, “Let’s both get some rest, alright? We can keep talking in the morning.”

“I’m sorry this is so sudden, I know I havn’t-” Hector started, looking like he was starting to panic as they got to their feet.

“Hector.” Imelda said gently but firmly as she took both his hands, “You’ve had a long day. We’ll keep talking about it in the morning, alright?”

Maybe by then she’d be able to figure out what to say without scaring him again.

“Alright.” Hector said with a smile, but his shoulders slumped a little.

“Miguel is asleep on my couch,” Imelda said, hugging him, “you’re more than welcome to stay over too if you’d like.”

“That...sounds really good.” Hector said, finally relaxing a little into the hug as he kissed the top of her head.

“You go on, I’ll come in a minute.” Imelda said, giving him a quick kiss before releasing him from the hug.

“Alright.” Hector said, tiredly kissing her cheek before turning to walk to her apartment, quietly letting himself in and closing the door behind him.

Imelda’s smile dropped away as soon as he was gone. She sat back on on the step with a tired whine, holding her head as she stared at the steps below.

Traveling with Ernesto? Quitting his job at the school to pick up a full-time career in music? Rerouting his entire life on the whim of a mother who had dropped into his life unannounced after years of silence?

The worst part was that she couldn’t even put her finger on why exactly the whole mess made her feel so uncomfortable. Maybe it was the suddenness. Maybe it was the fact that it revolved so heavily around two people she didn’t trust. Maybe it was the fact that Hector would be gone so much if his career really were to take off like he seemed to think it might.

But...could she really say no?

She’d spent months learning to let herself trust Hector, to really trust him with everything from their work lives to their home lives and everything in between. She’d had to consciously keep herself from controlling everything again and now it felt natural to let him steer their lives too.

And if this is what he really wanted, if he really wanted to pursue his childhood dream, one that could provide well for their family, could she really put her foot down over some abstract discomfort she couldn’t quite pin down? Being from a military family would make a spouse’s absence for work much easier for her to cope with than most other women...but she’d so hoped that particular challenge wouldn’t be part of her married life...

Imelda grit her teeth, rubbing her forehead hard. It felt like she was trying to do a puzzle with half the pieces and she hated it.

She stared up at the night sky. All she could do was hope beyond hope that the morning would bring some kind of badly needed clarity to her thoughts.

***

Ernesto, I’m REALLY sorry about this morning...I’ve been thinking about what you said and I think you’re right. On SOME things. My mother has a connection with Alex Hernandez at Discos Phenix she wants to set us up with, and I think this could really be our chance to get everything you’ve wanted, we can start over. My mamá says we’ve really got something special, that we can’t break up now. Give me a call when you’ve got a minute. I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.

Ernesto didn’t need to read the text again, it had already seared itself into his mind word for word. He’d thought it was a third text from Imelda, but the prickly relief he’d felt at seeing Hector’s name on his screen had died as soon as he’d read his text.

That monster, that she-demon of a mother had turned his head right around. Promising Hector fame and success that she clearly wanted to hitch a ride on, taking advantage of his talent because she didn’t have a bit of her own in her own tastelessly dressed body. And the fact that Hector would jump so eagerly for her too, so starved for her approval, even when he should have kicked her to the curb years ago for the way she treated him.

Ernesto knew Hector didn’t want that, the kind of life Mari was corraling him into would take him away from his precious teaching job, away from his fiancee and even the kid he’d fought so hard for.

Ernesto rubbed his eyes, an unopened bottle of freshly purchased tequila gripped in his other hand as he sat on the hood of his car, parked near the liquor store he’d promised himself he’d never go to again. At least not when he was upset.

Meaning he was very much breaking his promise now.

He dragged his hand down his face as he looked at the pavement, feeling like his grip on the bottle would shatter the glass at any moment.

Because this should be everything he’d wanted. Hector agreeing to come back, being willing to give up time to work together again for their music career, getting away from Imelda for weeks at a time. They’d finally be going back to the good days when it had only been the two of them and music on the road together.

But Ernesto could see that was a lie. He had to believe that he’d been smart enough to know that before Mari had gotten involved, and that only made it worse. Because it meant he’d been lying to himself too.

He knew how badly Hector tried to please people, and if his mother appearing had cranked up the pressure enough to break him then Ernesto knew perfectly well that his own performance that morning had done nothing but help her, a thought that twisted his stomach. Hector would only be giving in to a plan like this if he felt like he had no other choice.

If Ernesto went along with it he already knew what would happen, how could he not after knowing Hector so long? Hector would be dedicated at first, they’d make fantastic progress.

They’d start traveling, the marriage would keep getting postponed, when it finally happened Imelda would be resentful of how long it had taken. The longer they were gone the more lackluster Hector would become, the more Mari got involved the more Ernesto would hate it.

And the kid, Miguel, he’d probably end up growing up with an adopted father who was as absent as Hector’s mother had been. And Imelda was probably completely blindsided by all this too.

Ernesto grit his teeth.

None of that mattered to him.

He could make it work, he’d pulled Hector out of slumps before and he’d do it again, once the money started rolling in Hector would see it was worth it anyway to keep his family afloat. Miguel would be fine with an absent father, heavens knew it was miles better than Ernesto’s father had been anyway. No one ever got what they wanted just by waiting, you had to reach out and take it, sacrifices had to be made. And if this was what Hector wanted to do then who was Ernesto to stop him?

Ernesto stared at the bottle in his hand.

When he’d bought it he hadn’t noticed that it was his father’s favorite brand.

Ernesto took a deep breath as he got off the hood of his car, nearly biting through his own lip as he turned and growled, hurled the bottle as hard as he could against the asphalt. The shattering noise was enough to make a group of teens across the parking lot jump and turn to stare at him, but Ernesto didn’t care. Let them stare at the shards of glass and alcohol all over his shoes and the cuffs of his pants. Let them see what a pathetic man looked like.

Ernesto’s hand shook slightly as he pulled his phone out, but his face was perfectly emotionless as he pulled up Carlos’ number.

Coming to crash at your place again. Might be there for a while if that’s alright.

Carlos’ reply was immediate.

What did you do this time?

I’m moving out. For good.

Ernesto took a deep breath as he dialed Imelda’s number before Carlos’ inevitable flurry of texts came. Getting away from Hector would be the first step to making things right, but if things were going to go the way they should then Hector’s fiancée was going to have to know exactly what damage she was dealing with. Both from Mari, and from him.

He still grimaced anyway as Imelda picked up.

“Hector’s already come home, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” said Imelda’s crisp voice from the other end of the line.

“I’m about to tell you everything you need to know to fix this,” said Ernesto, not bothering to shake the glass off his shoes before getting into his car, which he already knew he’d regret later, “and you’re not going to like most of it and you’re probably going to hate me even more, but please know that the feeling is mutual and that you’re our only shot at keeping Hector from being miserable for the rest of his life. ¿Comprende?”

There was a long moment of silence.

“He told you about the music deal Mari’s offering?” Imelda finally asked, her voice as icy and professional as his, “It’s exactly what you’ve been wanting isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Ernesto said, starting the car. It was a good thing so much of his stuff was already at Carlos’ from when he was camped out there after the concert-gone-wrong, he wouldn’t have to stop by the apartment, “And I’m going to tell you, in detail, exactly why Hector should turn the offer down.”

***

Of all the things Imelda had been prepared to hear Ernesto say, that had not been one of them.

“I’m sorry, what?” she said, reflexively checking her phone, as if it had somehow been the source of confusion.

“First of all, Hector’s mother is a talentless, self-serving leech,” Ernesto said, ignoring her, “the deal itself may be good, but if she’s the one trying to rope Hector into it it’s not going to be because she loves him and wants to spend more time with him, it’s going to be because she thinks she can hang on his coattails to get some success herself. She’s never once shown real interest in him as a person our entire lives, and she has no reason to start now. He’ll think he’s reconnecting with her but she’s just using him.”

“Ernesto, I don’t think-” Imelda started.

“Second, Hector loves you.” Ernesto said, surprising her into silence, “If I take this deal I have nothing to lose, but if Hector takes it he’ll be stuck traveling with me for years. He’ll pretend he’s alright with it for as long as he can, because that’s what he does when he’s miserable, you’ve seen it, but the longer he’s away from you the worse he’ll be. His music will get worse, and his relationship with you will get worse, and he’ll start hating me for it and I’ll hate him back. I’d give it two years tops before everything is in shambles, unless one of the three of us dies along the way.”

Ernesto paused, as if waiting for her to push back, but Imelda stayed silent.

“Third,” Ernesto said, his voice getting harder, as if pushing through something distasteful, “I’ve...been pressuring him into something like this for a long time, so he’ll think he has no choice with his mother ganging up on him too, but he does. This morning we had a long talk where...I made him question if he was ready to be married with a kid at all, so...if he’s acting shaky about that it’s not your fault...it’s mine.”

“What?” Imelda said, gripping her phone.

“For the record, I still hate you for the way you treated him the first time around.” Ernesto said, his voice sounding sharp but tired, “But this time...I’m part of the problem, and hanging around is only going to make things worse. I’m leaving town to stay with a friend from now on. Whatever choice you and Hector make is up to you, I’m not going to contact Hector for a long time. We...both need some space.”

Imelda had wanted Ernesto to just leave for so long, but she had never pictured it going like this. The whole conversation was making her feel disoriented.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, the only fully formed question she could manage.

“Because Hector deserves to get what he wants.” there was a tired sigh, “And...that doesn’t involve me anymore.” Ernesto said, “But that means you’re the one who has to look after him, got it? You’d better keep Mari off of him or she’ll eat him alive. And...congratulations on your engagement. You’d better take good care of him. He’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

“Yes. I do. Thank you.” Imelda said, oddly grasping at what might possibly be the correct response to a congratulations-threat like that. She was having strange flashbacks to a certain conversation with Elena back in Santa Cecilia.

“Well. Good luck.” Ernesto said, sounding a little unsure now that they’d arrived at what seemed to be all he’d wanted to say.

“You too.” said Imelda said, just as unsure as he was.

There was a long moment of silence, then a flat buzzing sound indicated that the call had been ended.

Imelda sat staring at her phone for a long minute, quietly processing what had just happened. That was perhaps the longest conversation she’d ever had with Ernesto, and she had no idea how she felt about it. It certainly hadn’t been friendly, but it hadn’t exactly been hostile either. Maybe just...pained?

Imelda stood, pocketing her phone as she turned to her apartment door. Exactly what she thought about Ernesto’s call would have to be decided later, for now it would have to filed away under Confusing Emotions to Unravel Later. The only thing she knew for certain at that moment was that Ernesto had given her invaluable information when he didn’t have to, and she wasn’t going to turn down that kind of help, no matter the source.

Imelda was quiet as she entered her apartment and made her way down the hall, only stopping to briefly check on Miguel, who was fast asleep on the couch. When she let herself into her bedroom she was sure Hector would already be asleep, but saw that he was laying in bed staring at the wall instead.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, looking over as she came in, “I was starting to worry.”

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, slipping off her flats and pulling her hair out of her ponytail as she sat on the edge of the bed, “Ernesto called, we had a chat.”

“What?” Hector sat up, something like panic in his voice, “Why did he call you? I told him to leave you alone.”

“It’s all right, Hector.” Imelda said, kissing his cheek as he joined her at the side of the bed, “He told me about your talk this morning.”

“But- why-?” Hector started, but Imelda took his hand, giving him a look that made him quiet.

“Ernesto told me that he’s decided to leave town.” Imelda said, keeping careful eye contact, “He’s decided to move out, he said he doesn’t want to be around to force your decisions anymore.”

“But...the music deal.” Hector said, looking entirely perplexed, “It’s what he wanted.”

“I think it’s still what he wants, but the question is whether you want it.” Imelda said.

Hector swallowed, looking down at their hands, “I want to make everyone happy, and I want to be able to provide for our family. If this music deal is what will be the best for everyone then I’ll happily do it, I don’t mind.” he looked up at her, “But...you don’t want me to take it?”

It would be so easy to just take control now and make the decision for both of them, like when she’d mandated every bit of their first relationship, or how she took control at work as his boss. She could easily repeat the long, detailed list of reasons Ernesto had given her to convince Hector not to do this. But that wasn’t how she wanted to start the rest of their lives together.

“Hector,” she said, putting a hand to the side of his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek, “you spend so much of your time thinking about others. It’s one of the reasons I love you. I also love you because you always make the best of whatever situation you’re placed in, no matter how tough it is. You always find the brighter side of things, and you always work so hard to reach your goals.”

She looked into his eyes, “That’s why I’m not at all worried about marrying you. I know that no matter what happens, we’ll do just fine if we work together. If you want to pursue this or whether you want to keep teaching I’ll support you, but I want you to choose what will make you happy, I don’t want you to choose based on what you think will make others happy. Not me, not your mother, not Ernesto. If you can see yourself genuinely being happy with your choice down the road then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hector watched her for a long moment in the dark room, lit only by the streetlamp light filtering through the curtains.

“But...what do you want?” he asked, sounding a little sheepish.

“I want you to be happy and fulfilled.” Imelda said gently, kissing his jaw as she put a hand on his chest, “That’s what I want. I trust you.”

“This would be a lot easier if you just told me what to do.” Hector said, resting his forehead against hers, a weak smile in his voice.

In response Imelda just kissed him, not the quick kiss she had given him outside, but a real kind of kiss that got him to pull her closer.

“I think we should both get some sleep.” Imelda said softly, running her fingers through his hair, “You’re exhausted.”

“Alright.” Hector said, his eyes still closed as he gently kissed her neck, “I’m sorry for today.”

Imelda shushed him, pulling him to lay down beside her and pulling the blanket up over them both as she curled up against him.

Tomorrow would doubtlessly bring it own concerns and issues, Hector would still need to decide what it was that he really wanted, but for now Imelda had to trust that he would make the right choice.

And make sure that Hector knew that whatever it was, that she would be with him every step of the way.

--------

Hey guys, as the chapter name suggests, this is indeed the second to last chapter of teacher!au. This is the last chapter I’ll be writing for the main storyline and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. <3

@slusheeduck will be posting their last chapter soon which will be the end of the main timeline. After that we will each have an epilogue piece we will be posting, but this is pretty much it you guys, after a year and a half of writing this thing I can hardly beleive it.

Thanks so much for being such a wonderful audience, I hope you enjoy the upcoming grand finale end of Coco Teacher!au. We’ve had such an amazing time writing it for you all.

- Wit

#teacher!au #coco

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hystericalrogertaylor · 5 years

Text

Reconnecting (Chapter One)

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor X Reader

Word count: 1683

Summary: (Y/n) and Roger have been friends since the cradle. When they’re suddenly pulled apart and reconnected years later, they both can tell that the relationship has evolved. They lead very different lifestyles now. Can they continue what they had, or go for something more, with this gap between them?

Warnings: Mild cussing

A/N: Okay so this is my first fanfiction I’ve written for Tumblr so some things are probably going to look weird while I work things out. I apologize in advance!

Masterlist in my profile description!

~~~

One year old

There are romantic soulmates, and then there are platonic soulmates. Those are two people who are destined by God and the stars to be friends for life. They are two peas in a pod, two leaves on the same twig.

Such were you and Roger.

Your families had been friends since school. They lived near each other and dreamed that their kids would be best friends for life. Which worked out miraculously well.

Baby you and baby Roger sat on the floor, fiddling around with a toy with your flimsy, chubby baby hands. Both sets of parents watched, beaming with pride.

Until Roger took the toy and just began to repeatedly whack you in the head with it.

Mrs. Taylor quickly jumped up, pulling her child away from you. You had begun to cry out of confusion. The toy was a fluffy stuffed animal, so it didn’t hurt, but you were still bewildered.

Roger had been released from his mother’s grasp and was now being scolded. Noticing your tears, Roger stood up and hobbled over to you before sitting back down and clumsily wrapping his arms around your shoulders in consolation. You stopped crying and began to giggle a little bit, which made Roger and the parents smile as well.

Five years old

“Roger, you’re gonna fall!” you yelled upwards. “Come down from there!”

“No!” he shouted back. “I said I was going to climb to the top and that’s what I’m going to do!”

Trying to convince Roger to not do something dangerous or stupid, even when he was a little child, was difficult. At this moment, he was trying to reach the top of this really tall tree in your yard for literally no reason.

“Why don’t we go get some cookies or something?” you suggested.

“Nope. Tree.”

You facepalmed. Roger’s affinity for stupid and/or violent stunts had not changed since infancy. For example, trying to fit himself down a laundry chute (hospital stay), trying to examine a bee’s nest (several bee stings), and random bursts of childish anger (“How was I supposed to know the window would break?!”).

“When you need to stay in the hospital again, I’m not going to visit!” I shouted, crossing my arms.

“I’ll be fine!” He grabbed a flimsy brach, which promptly snapped. He tumbled down, letting out a terrified scream. He landed with a thud, knocking you down and pinning both his and your arms to the ground with his body.

“Roger!” You yanked your arm out from under him, letting out a cry of pain. You were sure your arm was broken. Roger just lay there, face down, groaning. “Roger? Are you okay?”

“Can you go get my mum?” he mumbled. “I think I broke my arm.”

“Uh oh. Don’t worry, I’ll get help!” Trying to ignore your own pain and cradling your arm to your chest, you made a beeline down the street towards the Taylor household, wincing with every step.

Both of you were at the doctor’s office for a while, getting casts put on opposite arms, respectively. Both were a plain, boring white color. Until you both took your markers to them and made each other’s casts beautiful.

Ten years old

“(Y/n), truth or dare?” your friend, Dawn, asked.

“Dare!” you exclaimed. The group of five sat in a circle in the back of the classroom during free time.

“I dare you to... stick your head in the waste bin!”

A chorus of “eww’s” and “grosses” came from the other kids. You shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” You stood up, walked to the nearest waste bin, and shoved your head in just enough for your hair to miss touching the trash. You went back to the group and sat down. Some made disgusted faces, others were laughing, Roger loudest of all.

“Okay,” you started, looking around the circle, “...Roger! Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

You looked around the room. How could you embarrass Roger…?

“I dare you to...ask out Gayle!”

“Ooo!” Everyone in the group knew Roger had this huge crush on a girl in your class named Gayle. She had really short black hair and bright blue eyes and was constantly picking at her fingernails.

Roger looked at you and rolled his eyes. “That’s easy.” He got up from the floor and made his way over to Gayle. The rest of your group hid behind some desks to watch without being seen. Roger, being fairly smooth for a ten year old, started the conversation while Gayle stood there, picking away at what was left of her nails.

“He probably complimented her nose or something,” Dawn chuckled. You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand.

Roger and Gayle continued to talk for a few minutes, laughing occasionally with a lot of awkward silence. Then, they shared an even more awkward side hug before Roger headed back over to your group.

“She’s my girlfriend now,” he said, beaming proudly. You all shouted with excitement. He did it!

Their “relationship” was interesting. They’d hang out by the slide during recess and people watch, judging most of the class. When Dawn or you or any of his other friends would try to get them to play make believe, Gayle would spit out some snarky response and make you leave. After a few days of this, Roger began to look miserable and desperate for a way out, which everyone noticed but Gayle.

She “broke up” with him a couple of days later because she decided she didn’t like blond boys. He was upset, she was his first “girlfriend” after all. But, he also felt relief because he could finally hang out with his friends again. Gayle moved schools two months after the whole ordeal.

Seventeen years old

“All I’m saying is the movie could’ve been written better.”

“(Y/n), stop being critical of everything and just enjoy things for once.” Roger stuck the keys in his car’s ignition, laughing at you.

“Hey, you thought it was terrible too!” You jabbed a finger into his shoulder.

“True, but I still had fun.” He backed out of the parking space, looking around diligently to make sure he didn’t hit anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay, me too.”

Roger turned to smile at you and, in that moment, neither of you saw the other car pulling out of a different spot. The cars collided with a jolt.

“What the hell?” Roger removed his seatbelt and threw open the door, stepping out towards the other car. “Why can’t you watch where you’re going?!”

“Hey man, you’re the one who backed into me!”

Sensing the tensions building, you jumped out of the car and moved to stand next to Roger. “Guys, it’s gonna be okay, we can fix thi--”

“This is a brand new car!” the other man shouted. “I have half a mind to beat you up for that!”

“You don’t stand a chance.” Roger fixed the man with a death glare, pushing up his sleeves.

“Okay!” You moved in front of your best friend and pushed him back towards his driver’s side door. Surprisingly, he let you. “We’d do better to just wait for the cops to show up so we can get this guy’s insurance info and get both cars fixed.”

Roger took a long deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.” He flexed his fist, trying to relax.

“You have to work on that temper,” you joked.

He chuckled. “I feel like I’ve heard you say that before. Can’t imagine why.”

Both of you stood there, laughing, while the other guy called the police, shouting profanities across the parking lot. The humor you and Roger were able to see made the whole situation seem a lot less terrible.

Eighteen years old

“What?” Roger stared at you in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“He took the job. I tried my hardest to persuade him not to, but he says it’s great money and amazing opportunity.” You quickly swiped a tear off of your cheek.

“But it’s a whole ocean away! You can’t move to America!”

“I don’t know what choice I have.” You tried not to look him in the eye. “I can’t move out and be completely independent yet because I need their help with school and they don’t want me staying in England for that, so they told me to start looking at American universities, but I can’t bring myself to do it because then the move will seem real and I really just want to stay here and--”

“Hey.” Roger grabbed you by the shoulders, causing you to stop in your tracks. “It’s okay. We can talk on the phone and see each other during the summer. It’s not like one of us is dying or anything.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve. “Okay. Yeah. True.” You let out a giggle. “Remember when you tried to eat that worm, and I said not to, but then you did anyway and threw up?”

He laughed. “Yes, but you can’t start reminiscing about the fun we’ve had when this isn’t goodbye.” He pulled you towards him, wrapping you up in a big hug.

You patted his side, which was the only place you could reach. “I’m not even leaving for another month.”

“Further emphasizing my point. We still have time to enjoy each other’s company.” He let you go. You could see some tears beginning to form in his eyes. His best friend since birth was moving away. If there’s anything Roger Taylor would get sappy and emotional about, it’s something like that.

“Of course,” you agreed, smiling. “This won’t be a goodbye.”

A month went by. You spent a lot of time packing, and most of your spare time was spent with Roger. Once you moved, the two of you talked on the phone when it was convenient in both time zones and when neither of you were busy. But, that window of time started to grow smaller. And smaller. And smaller. Until the only communication you had with Roger Taylor was in your daydreams.

~~~

A/N: Thank you to @bentaylorrogerhardy for giving me inspiration for this fanfiction! You guys should go read what she’s written because it’s amazing. Okay, bye!

#ben hardy #roger taylor #ben hardy roger taylor #ben hardy x reader #roger taylor x reader #queen #queen band #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #bohemian rhapsody #x reader #rami malek #gwilym lee #joe mazzello

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ewankoseyo · 5 years

Text

magnetic || jinyoung pt. 4

A/N: Part 4 is finally here! I’m sorry it took so long, work has been really busy and I’d hit some writer’s block before, but here it is! Thank you so much for being patient with me. I hope everything with the variety show aspect of this chapter makes sense. Part 5 will most likely be the last part of this series so stay tuned! Kita kits!

——

You were 13 when your brother proudly introduced his friend Park Jinyoung to the family.

The two of them had come home from a meeting at the company and your mom told Jinyoung to stay for dinner. You stifled back a laugh when you shook Jinyoung’s hand for the first time. He had the silliest haircut, as if someone had put a ruler and protractor against his face so they could get the edges completely straight.

Jinyoung seemed like a nice enough guy. He politely answered your parents questions, telling them where he grew up, what his family looked like, what his parents did for a living, how he got into music—answering the usual questions your parents asked whenever meeting one of your or Jaebum’s friends. You listened quietly, never one to speak up when Jaebum’s friends were around unless they spoke to you directly, because you felt it wasn’t your place to say anything. Jinyoung hadn’t initiated anything with you but you thought nothing of it. You were content with just listening to the conversation.

The meal continued without incident, the two boys describing to your parents what their upcoming schedules were looking like, until Jaebum made a joke about Jinyoung’s voice cracking during vocal practices earlier that day.

“I can’t help it if my voice cracks,” Jinyoung replied calmly, looking over at Jaebum with a slight glint of mischief in his eyes. “Kind of like how you can’t help tripping over your own feet even when you’re not dancing.”

Completely caught off guard by the boy’s sharp tongue, you broke out in laughter. You had pegged Jinyoung as a soft-spoken, calm and polite boy, unaware of how snarky and quick-witted he could be as well. Unfortunately, you were in the middle of drinking water when Jinyoung took a jab at your brother, and as a result, Jinyoung was now glaring at you across the dinner table, water droplets dripping down his face and on his clothes.

“Sorry...” you apologized with a nervous laugh as your mom handed him some napkins while scolding you for being unladylike. “That was just...really funny...”

You knew it would be a while until Jinyoung would ever come back for another family dinner.

You were 17 when you realized your crush on Jinyoung was no longer just a crush.

A friend had told you she read in an article somewhere that when a crush surpasses four months, it meant that you were “in love.” Four years must have meant you had it bad.

No, you couldn’t be in love with Jinyoung. This was just a stupid school girl crush that you were going to get over (you tell yourself for the millionth time.) Besides, you only say you’re in love with someone when you’re already in a relationship with them. And you weren’t. Unfortunately. The guy barely talked to you passed hi’s and bye’s when you saw him. You also didn’t get the warmest vibes from Jinyoung, but you attributed it to the fact that you only really saw him when he and the other members were dead tired from practicing. The upcoming debut was probably taking a huge toll on them.

Jinyoung was still your brother’s closest friend, and that was all you needed to know that he was a good guy. Take that and add how great of a singer and dancer he was, his passion and dedication in his work, how supportive he was with his other members (despite the occasional roasts,) his quick wit, his love of reading, and how great he was with kids etc. etc. and you had the ultimate recipe for a full-fledged crush.

But is this love? You wondered to yourself as you watched the boys practicing a routine through the glass window. You were waiting for Jaebum to finish dance practice as you were his ride home. You didn’t realize that by gaining the freedom granted by a driver’s license you would also be granted the responsibility of being your brother’s chauffeur (you needed the car more than he did,) but you couldn’t complain too much. At least you’d get to see Jinyoung. And the other members, of course.

You watched Jinyoung laugh as Yugyeom messes up his moment in a routine, the crinkles by his eyes out and proud. Though it wasn’t directed towards you, you couldn’t help but feel slight tugs at your heartstrings.

You sighed to yourself. Everything about him seemed absolutely cute and attractive, even with the stupid haircut, and that’s how you knew it was love.

Jinyoung was about to pass by you as the group filed out of the studio, finally done for the day, when he stops in his tracks and turns to where you’re sitting and waiting.

“Hey.”

You slowly look up from your phone after a beat, realizing that everyone else had left and he was still standing there...addressing you?

“Oh hi Jinyoung, sorry I thought you were talking to someone else...”

“I just wanted to congratulate you,” he states, disregarding your admission. “Jaebum mentioned earlier that you got accepted into that really prestigious American university yesterday. Congrats.”

“Ah I see...” you nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

“You must have worked very hard to get in,” Jinyoung continued. You two looked at each other for a moment, expecting the other to say something else but silence remained in the air. He knew he should have just told Jaebum to pass his congrats on to you. “Anyway congrats again, and you two get home safely.” Jinyoung nodded, giving you a brief tight-lipped smile before following the direction of the other boys.

As you exhaled the breath you were unaware that you were holding and started to text Jaebum to see where he wandered off to, you were absolutely sure it was love.

You were 22 when you felt like you were falling apart.

Sure this might be a silly memory you’ll laugh about years later, but right now, everything just hurt so much. You hadn’t gotten any sleep after overhearing Jinyoung’s conversation with Mark. You spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed, replaying the the scene over and over again. How were you going to face him the next day? He didn’t know you’d overheard, but you weren’t as good of an actor as he was. How were you supposed to act like everything was okay after finding out one of your worst fears was actually true?

But you have no choice but to pretend, you thought to yourself as you slowly got ready for the day. Brushing out the tangles from your hair and applying enough foundation to conceal the hurt you felt, you were determined to at least appear okay. After shooting, you could go back to your room and wallow in self-loathing for the rest of the day. You weren’t about to ruin a whole broadcast just because your stupid schoolgirl heartbreak was getting in the way of your normal functioning.

You weren’t going to ruin the boys’ trip and you couldn’t give Jinyoung another reason to hate you.

So putting on a brave face as you went downstairs to join everyone for that day’s filming, you mentally prepared yourself to act like you weren’t dying on the inside. It seemed to fool Jaebum, who happily greeted you with pastry to eat for breakfast. A part of you felt guilty. You were lucky to have Jaebum as a brother, always doting on you ever since you were kids even though he wasn’t much older than you. He made sure you ate well and always answered your phone calls even when he was busy half a world away. Jaebum told you everything and likewise, expected you to be upfront with him and to always come to him for advice. It would hurt him to find out that you were hurting and he didn’t know about it.

But this wasn’t something you could share with Jaebum. You already hated talking to him about boys, but this was a whole different beast. So you felt it was probably best to just keep this from him. There was also no use in troubling him with something so trivial.

Soon the staff had you all get into your pairs in a line to prepare for filming. They were going to announce the winners of the photo challenge and prepare for the next challenge. Jinyoung came over to you, greeting you with a smile.

“Morning, ready for today?”

You simply hummed in reply, a small smile quirked on your lips. Jinyoung thought it was a little strange how you didn’t look at him and instead had your eyes glued to a spot on the ground. Usually you were the one coming up to him and addressing him first when you had to gather into your teams. Come to think of it, you were uncharacteristically quiet since you came down. He shook off the thought as he listened to the staff’s instructions for the shoot. You were probably still waking up. Yesterday had been a pretty busy day so you must have been dead tired.

“We will now be announcing the winners of yesterday’s photo challenge. Let’s take a look at the pictures you all took!”

Going through everyone else’s adventures was a nice distraction. A blanket-cladded Yugyeom as ET had managed to stuff himself into a bike basket as Mark struggled to pedal the bike they were both on. Your brother somehow got Jackson to let him hoist him over a seemingly high cliff to reenact the famous Lion King scene—but Jackson mostly complied because the staff let him strip down to his boxers to play a baby Mufasa. Bambam and Youngjae (though they had the funniest segment, everyone had deemed it by far the least creative) had spent the whole day in a Target, creating discount reenactments of their movies with whatever they could find. They only succeeded in recreating three movie scenes, as an employee had to kick them out of the store due to a “complaint from other customers about a disturbance in the toy section.” Seeing that they did just three reenactments and you could only really tell what scenes they were recreating when they explained them (“So Hyung put on a really scary tiger mask, symbolizing the Beast, and I found a yellow dress in the kids section, and this is supposed to be us dancing in the ballroom but pretend the produce aisle is the ballroom, OBVIOUSLY.”) it was unanimous that Bambam and Youngjae had lost the challenge.

“You guys just don’t have the same artistic eye that we do!”

You and Jinyoung’s segment was met with "ooh”s and questionable yet excited looks from the other boys (a very confused Jaebum kept asking Yugyeom what everyone was going on about, but Yugyeom just kept shushing him.) Jackson waggled his eyebrows knowingly at you during the part where you grabbed Jinyoung’s hands to place them on your waist. You shook your head frantically and gave Jackson a look to keep quiet before averting your eyes back to the ground. You tried to think of something else in an attempt to tune out all the “aww”s that would erupt whenever something everyone deemed “cute” happened on the screen.

You couldn’t dare to look at Jinyoung’s expression. With the way everyone was making a big deal about your pictures (Bambam demanded to have several copies of the Lady and the Tramp picture as a reminder of what “true love looks like,”) Jinyoung had to know how much you liked him. Remembering his harsh words from last night just added salt to the open wound.

“I think we have the winners of yesterday’s challenge!”

All of the pictures were laid out and judging from everyone’s reactions, it was decided that you and Jinyoung had won. Jinyoung held up his hand to you for a high-five, which you returned but your eyes still didn’t meet his. Come to think of it, you never actually said a word to him when you all were going through everyone’s segments. Whenever he’d make a side comment about one of the boys, you would just silently nod, your eyes never leaving the screen. Jinyoung found your silence kind of weird, but then again, he had always found you pretty weird.

He tried not to think about what this could have meant, but he couldn’t shake the equally weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

——

Luckily for you, the next challenge was a divide-and-conquer task.

Unluckily for you and Jinyoung, this challenge put your prize from the last challenge at stake. For winning the photo challenge, you guys had been awarded 200 dollars to share. If you won this next challenge, the staff would double that wager, earning the both of you 400 dollars. If you and Jinyoung lost this challenge, the winners would get your 400 dollars, and you and Jinyoung would be forced to spend the day handcuffed together. Since you two had done so well together on the last challenge, the staff thought it would be funny to get the other boys riled up and gang up against you.

For the next challenge, the member who was not fluent in English from each team was tasked with buying an outfit that suited their English-speaking member from a sponsoring store. The non-fluent members had to find the store themselves, but they could still communicate with with their fluent teammate (who would be monitoring them from the hotel) if they needed help. The only hard part was that no Korean was allowed—the non-fluent members had to find their way around only speaking English, and likewise the fluent members could only speak English when helping them.

Thankfully Jinyoung was probably the most fluent in English out of the four non-fluent members so you really didn’t need to talk to him at all. Jackson spouted words of encouragement next to you to Jaebum over the phone as you all watched Jaebum through the monitor quietly rehearse to himself how he was going to hail a taxi and ask it to take him to the store. Youngjae had asked a local for directions but they were talking too fast for him to understand (wanting to be polite, Youngjae just smiled and nodded) so Bambam was slowly repeating the directions back to him. Yugyeom and Mark were currently bickering over the pronunciation of certain words (“But if it’s not ‘BU-ying,’ why is there a u?!”)

Jinyoung, having navigated to the store without a problem, was the first one to start shopping. He quickly found the women’s section and started perusing through the items.

“You wear these usually?” Jinyoung asked suddenly, shaking you out of a daze. He hadn’t needed any help so you were just watching the others directing their teammates on the phone. Jinyoung was standing in a streetwear section and held up a long-sleeved crop top to his cameraman so you could see it on your end. The piece he held up was definitely something similar to what was in your luggage.

“Uh, c-correct,” you stuttered out. Jackson noticed your nervous response and gave you the same knowing look he sent your way earlier. You elbowed his ribs in response and shot him a dirty look. You still didn’t know how to talk to Jinyoung normally so you figured you would keep your responses (if what he was saying absolutely needed a response) as short as possible.

“How about...a dress?”

“Um sure, whichever,” you tried to reply nonchalantly. Mark and Bambam had now taken notice to your exchange and joined Jackson in watching Jinyoung picking out an outfit for you. You tried to shove Bambam away as he smirked at you and playfully nudged your side. The three boys gave you teasing looks and would feign a silent gasp whenever Jinyoung picked up and looked at a new item. You just gave them a look commanding them to cut it out, trying to refrain from making any noise so Jinyoung wouldn’t ask you what was going on. Fortunately they returned to communicating with their teammates when they were called back for help.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” An employee had approached Jinyoung as he rifled through a rack of dresses.

“Oh, is there...in red?” Jinyoung asked slowly after mentally translating his question. He held up a light-blue off-the-shoulder floral sundress.

“Yes, I believe it’s going to be on the other side of this rack,” the employee replied, guiding him around the rack he was looking at. Sure enough, there was a red version of the dress he spotted. Jinyoung thanked the employee, happily taking the dress off the rack. “Is this a gift?”

“Yeah, a gift,” Jinyoung nodded.

“For your girlfriend?”

The three boys next to you heard this and immediately averted their attention back to Jinyoung on the screen. You felt the heat rise to your face and you wished you could just run back to your room and bury yourself in your sheets. Jinyoung seemed taken aback by the women’s inquiry, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his free hand. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to form a reply.

“Ahaha uh, just uh, friend,” he answered back with a nervous laugh before clearing his throat. “Where are the shoes?”

With the help of the employee (who thankfully did not press on about who he was shopping for,) Jinyoung managed to find shoes and accessories to go along with your outfit. He hadn’t run into any of the members while shopping (probably because he had to shop in the women’s section) and he was glad he didn’t. With the prize at stake, Jinyoung knew the other boys would have somehow tried to sabotage him if they saw him.

As they watched Jinyoung check out the items and exit out of the store, Jackson, Mark, and Bambam remembered that they were supposed to be helping their teammates and not focusing on the tv drama that made up Jinyoung’s screen (though you were sure the editors would most likely edit you and Jinyoung’s segment that way for the actual broadcast.)

“Yugyeom hurry, Jinyoung already walked out of the store!”

“Just buy whatever already JB, I look good in everything, just go to checkout!”

“Hyung MOVE!”

Even though you still felt the awkwardness with Jinyoung, seeing the others’ frenzied reactions instilled a sense of urgency in you too.

“Jinyoung, hurry and get on the next cab over here, the other boys know you left!”

As he picked up the pace to flag down a taxi, Jinyoung turned to the camera following next to him and smiled, knowing you were watching. “On my way!”

Well-aware of the cameras also on you, you scrunched your face up so you seemed thoughtful, in an attempt to hide how his boyish response really made you feel.

Soon enough, you all heard the front door of the hotel suite beeping, signaling the arrival of the winning team member. And sure enough, Jinyoung walked into the room looking smugly over at Jackson, Mark, and Bambam, who were now groaning at their inevitable loss. With Jinyoung standing before you, you’d lost your voice all over again. You stood up hesitantly but smiled, holding out your hand to your teammate for a high-five.

Ignoring your gesture, Jinyoung immediately dropped his bags and ran over to you to pick you up into a celebratory hug.

“Oh!”

“We did it!” He rejoiced, spinning you in around in a circle before putting you back down. “We just made 400 dollars!”

Perhaps it was from the sudden rotation, though you were sure it was from the unfamiliar warm gesture, but you felt like your head was spinning. Now it was as if your whole body was on fire and you seemed to have forgotten how to speak in any language other than gibberish. You finally looked up at Jinyoung, who grinned at you proudly before letting you go to pick up the shopping bags he dropped.

“You should take a look at the outfit, see if it fits okay.”

You stared on at Jinyoung, slowly processing the last few moments. It was all so confusing. Park Jinyoung was the literal definition of an enigma. You had no idea what was going on in his head. He only spoke to you when he absolutely had to and you were also too nervous with your crush to really initiate anything. Yesterday you had hung out like old friends, last night he basically ranted to Mark about how he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you, and now he was picking you up and hugging you like you were the world.

Kind of like how someone who loved you would.

Jinyoung pulled out the sundress and handed it to you. “I got you wedges, a necklace, and a sunhat that I thought would go along with it. Hope you like it.”

You rubbed the material between your fingers, trying to think of what to say. You hadn’t said anything to him since he came in. Why does Actor Park feel the need to act up so much today?

“So, uh, why red?”

“Because red looks good on you,” the boy simply replied, without skipping a beat.

——

Jackson was leaving the suite when he spotted you walking in the hallway of the hotel. It seems you were returning from the vending machine, sipping on a soda as your feet dragged on the carpet. You were walking in a daze with your face completely blank, but Jackson knew that meant you had a lot on your mind. He started jogging over to you.

“HEY!” You were broken out of your thoughts as Jackson stopped in front of you. “You should have grabbed me a snack too!”

“Ahh...sorry...” You looked down, nodding slowing. You moved to walk back to the suite when Jackson gently grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m just joking,” he grinned before putting on a more serious face. “Are you okay? You just seem...upset today and a lot quieter than usual. What’s up?”

You stared back at Jackson’s concerned expression, contemplating how to respond. The ever-empathetic Jackson Wang could read you like a book, so you knew there was no use in pretending you were fine.

“I’m just...so confused...”

“About what? Jinyoung?” You nodded. “What’s the problem? It seems like you guys have gotten closer in the last two days. He freakin’ hugged you earlier! The you from the beginning of this week would have been over the moon!” Jackson grinned as his teasing earned a small smile from you.

“But that’s the thing though,” you responded, returning your gaze back to the floor. “He’s never hugged me before.”

“Maybe he’s finally warming up to you.”

“Jackson, I overheard him talking to Mark last night...” You braced yourself. As the conversation resurfaced in your memory and you attempted to voice it out loud, you could feel yourself getting choked up. “He—I know Jinyoung hates me...”

“What?! What’d he say?”

“He basically said that he can’t focus with me here and that it’s been difficult having to put up with me all these years,” you replied with a sigh. “And I really thought we had a breakthrough yesterday. Then today, he was just being really nice, talking about how red looks good on me, but I know it was all just for the cameras. And just remembering that his nice words were just for show a-and that’d...he’d n-never actually say them to me in real life, I just—Jackson, I can’t do this anymo—”

You broke into a sob before you could finish and Jackson immediately pulled you into his arms, rubbing small circles on your back soothingly. It hurt him so much to see you look so broken. You were always a cheery girl, knowing just what to say when one of the members were feeling down. Seeing the one person who always seemed optimistic despite the situation actually coming apart before him left Jackson at a loss.

You sniffled as you picked your face off of his chest. “Sorry...now you’re shirt’s all wet.”

He smiled, patting the back of your head lightly. There you were—still cracking a joke even though you felt awful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Jackson,” you inhaled deeply, trying to stifle the extra sobs threatening to escape. “This is just so stupid, I don’t understand why I like him so much,” you continued. “I’m just...so tired of never being enough for him.”

Jackson gave you a sympathetic look before slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I was just about to go down to the gym. Come with me and you can rant all you want while I work out. And maybe if there’s a punching bag, you could blow off some steam!”

You giggled, gently shoving Jackson in the chest before wrapping your arms around his waist. Jackson was the only person you could really open up to about these things. You went to him when it came to boys while you went to Jaebum when it came to everything else. Though he could be goofy, it was just Jackson’s way of making you feel better when you felt like crap. You appreciated how great he was at listening and he only gave you advice when you sought it out. And even though he was known as the loudest member, you could always count on him to keep your secrets.

Jinyoung was coming out of the suite when he noticed you and Jackson at the end of the hallway waiting for the elevator. As you snuggled closer to Jackson, there it was again.

Twisting and turning.

——

Park Jinyoung was never one to initiate conversation. Those who want to talk to him will and really, to him, those were the only interactions that mattered.

But after his talk with Mark the night before, Jinyoung figured there was a first time for everything. And when he found you alone in the kitchen at midnight, Jinyoung felt that time was now.

“Hey.”

Startled from the sudden break in silence, you jumped in your place, nearly dropping the glass of water you were holding. “Oh, I didn’t hear you coming.”

Jinyoung couldn’t help but chuckle at your frightened expression. You always did have a tendency to jump easily. “I actually came to get some water too.”

“Ah...”

Silence returned to the kitchen as Jinyoung went to fix himself a glass. Tension filled the air, yet there was a sense of familiarity in the tension. Kind of like...the times when he’d be over at Jaebum’s house and the older boy would leave him alone with you in the living room while he went to go shower or something. The obligation to say something to one another would permeate the air as Jaebum would call from his room to “just entertain each other.”

Perhaps there needed to be a break in familiarity.

“Can we talk?”

“Huh?” Jinyoung didn’t think it was possible for your big doe eyes to get any bigger, but his suggestion to you seemed to prove him wrong.

“Sorry, that sounded really serious, not really what I wanted to say,” Jinyoung cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. He hadn’t really thought this through. “I mean, do you want to grab ice cream with me from the shop downstairs? I’ve got a craving and you’re awake so...”

“Jinyoung,”

“Hmm?” Now Jinyoung was looking at you with wide eyes. You had said his name with an edge he had never heard before.

You sighed, looking around the room before returning back to him. Jinyoung suddenly felt paralyzed under your gaze. There was an uncharacteristic iciness in your eyes. “We aren’t filming anymore.”

“So...”

“You can stop pretending to be nice to me.”

A nervous laugh escaped his lips. “W-what do you mean by ‘pretend—”

“Stop toying with me Jinyoung!” He jolted at your outburst, his response dying on his lips. You were fuming, shaking in your thoughts. “I heard you and Mark talking last night.”

“No...wait...” Jinyoung found himself taking a step towards you, holding his arms out to you. He didn’t understand himself what he was intending to do. You took a step back and signaled for him to not come any closer before hanging your head down.

“Jinyoung, I get it,” you sighed again. “You don’t like me. You never have.”

Jinyoung took another step towards you as he heard you choke on your words, but you held your hand out to stop him again.

“Stop! I’m—” You stopped yourself to take a deep breath. You couldn’t cry in front of him. You had gotten all the crying out with Jackson already. “I know...you only put up with me because...I-I’m your best friend’s little sister so you don’t need to be so buddy-buddy with me even if it’s just for the cameras.”

Twisting and turning.

You paused to take another breath. “When I was in school, I used to fantasize about the day you’d start treating me better and like me back,” you mused bitingly, averting your gaze to the lights. Despite your best efforts, a tear had escaped but you quickly wiped it away before it could cascade down your cheek. “I was so...stupid to think we could be anything more than-than a fantasy. But just tell me one thing Jinyoung,” you hissed at him. “Why do you hate me so much? What about me drives you crazy? What about me makes it so hard for you to put up with me?”

The tears now flowed carelessly down your face as you awaited his response.

It took everything in Jinyoung to not bring his hand up to wipe them away.

“I...I don’t know...”

You shook your head slowly, a bitter smile creeping its way on your lips. “I shouldn’t try so hard, right? ‘Cause I’ll never be good enough for you.”

Jinyoung knew should have stopped you. He should have followed you to your room. He should have banged on your door begging you to let him explain.

But he stood there frozen in his spot and at a loss for words as you finished your drink and bid him a short “good night” before heading back to your room.

As Jinyoung heard your door close shut, the sensation in his stomach that he’d grown almost accustomed to had left, replaced with a new tugging feeling at his heartstrings.

——

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fic #park jinyoung #im jaebum #mark tuan #jackson wang #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fic #got7 fanfic #kpop fanfic

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sailor-cresselia · 5 years

Text

The Great Ex-Aid Rewatch: Ex-Aid & Ghost, Part 03

Last time, in “This movie is Out There” land, Kamen Riders Ex-Aid and Ghost fought PAC-MAN. And won, thus earning the cure of countless civilians from a literal Pac-man fever.

I almost wish I were making this up, but I’m also so glad that I don’t have to, because Toei already did it for me.

(Liveblog under the cut)

–––

We resume on Zaizen nearly collapsing in pain as the reprogramming takes its toll on him – visual glitching and static, that weird bubbling texture, the works. Robol watches on, ‘monitoring’ the situation. Giril and Doral stumble in, in obvious pain from the fights they were just in. Robol makes a snarky aside about the ‘kids’ being tough – that’s a bit rude of you, your coworkers put up a very good fight, and they took three of the five riders out of commission. I’d say that’s a good success/loss ratio.

Zaizen says that it doesn’t matter how badly they were beaten. He’s just obtained the power they were looking for.

His voice has taken on a strange doubling effect – his regular voice overlaid with a voice-changer effect. Fortunately, this particular robotic distortion is more in line with the unsettling deep tones of Genm than it is the obnoxiously high pitch of Dr. Pac-Man.

–––

Nighttime. Seito University Hospital.

Alain and Makoto are unconscious, being tended by Hiiro. He’s not doing much better, frankly. He’s awake, but his balance is off. As he moves between their beds, he stumbles, winding up basically collapsing on Makoto’s. Taiga, having been watching and presumably having helped bring Alain in, is probably embarrassed by this whole display.

He tells Hiiro that he’s not sure who’s the patient here, and that he’ll take over from here.

Hiiro, clearly exhausted and breathing heavily, mentions that license or no, he supposes that Taiga is still a doctor.

Taiga just tells him to go find somewhere to pass out.

See, here’s the thing. Taiga is still a doctor. He’s still been practicing medicine the past five years, albeit illegally, and probably to a whole lot of yakuza and such, but he is still a decent enough guy.

As we’ll see later on, he doesn’t kick Nico out – which is in part because she refuses to be kicked out – instead, he becomes super protective of her.

If he didn’t care anymore, like he tries to make us all believe, like he tries to make himself believe…

Why would Taiga be a rider at all? Revenge? Nah. Even when he made as if he was holding the Collabos bugster hostage in episode 8, he did still defeat it. Not as a distraction, like he plays it. But he doesn’t want anyone else to suffer.

Taiga still cares. He’s just trying to make everyone think he doesn’t.

He’s trying to make himself think he doesn’t.

He’s only somewhat successful.

–––

Downstairs, at CR, Takeru is ‘sleeping’ in the quarantine ward – you know, as much as he can while wincing in pain as he sleeps.

(I tend to maintain that the bugster virus largely prevents the people it’s actively effecting from sleeping much, if at all. What better way to increase someone’s stress levels and weaken them than to deprive them of rest? They may get moments of rest, but not much, and it’s not helpful. But that’s really more of a headcanon than anything else. I just felt it was worth mentioning right now, since we don’t usually see how stays overnight at CR are handled, even though we know they happen.)

In the office, Emu is barely holding back tears. He thinks he’s failed, that Hiiro and Taiga did so much better than him, because they were able to save Takeru’s friends. But him? He’s not good enough.

Poppy points out that he’s not a failure, that he just saved a hundred thousand people, but Emu’s not really listening. He couldn’t save Tougo, so what right does he have to say he’s a doctor? Why is he even doing this in the first place?

Poppy heads down the spiral staircase, looking back at Emu, before looking forward to see Kiriya on the waiting bench outside of the ward.

He starts talking without being prompted, and asks if Poppy wonders why a ‘guy like him’ became Ex-Aid. She points out that Kiriya’s not supposed to be here, but he continues. The riders are supposed to have undergone a compatibility surgery to be able to use the Drivers, but Emu never has. Looking down, Kiriya laughs. Emu might just be the biggest mystery here.

Keep in mind, Kiriya’s known about the game disease for five years, and confronted Kuroto about it three years ago. He’s presumably been researching it all this time, to find a way to stop it.

And he says Emu is the biggest mystery. In the handful of episodes before this movie, he spent a whole lot of time looking into Emu’s past.

Poppy admits, she’s not quite sure what’s going on either, but that she wants to believe in Emu, and thinks that he has a special power.

Oh, sweetie. Poppy, sweetheart, single person in this show who consistently believes in Emu after episode 12… you have no idea. Nobody has any idea.

Least of all Emu, who’s basically just so, so tired of everything right now. Tired of failing, of being berated by his ‘coworkers’, pretty soon going to be tired of being locked out of the information loop.

I’m so sorry, Emu. It’s not going to get any easier from here.

–––

Back at the Next Genome hideout, Zaizen, Robol, and Giril are watching Tougo in the bugvisor. Because, you know, infected humans are totally supposed to be able to be pulled into those. Not like he’s been altered at all until now. He’s only just been told he’s ‘going to be’ the first test subject. That implies he hasn’t had anything done to him outside of the pac-virus detection program, and the bugster infection.

So… how could they pull him in there?

(Sadly, we never get an answer to this. I’m pretty sure it’s a combination of ‘they hadn’t decided what the bugvisors could do yet,’ ‘early installment weirdness,’ and ‘we needed a way to kidnap this brat that didn’t involve bodily slinging him over someones shoulder.’)

Doral calls in. Seems the cops have turned up, with a whole-ass swat team… and Shinnosuke, who tells Doral that this is his last warning, and that he needs to stand down, now.

Dorals response? They’re conduction a test right now, and he can’t let them interfere. He pulls out his proto-gashat, the cops ready their guns even further, and a giant fancy red circle appears in the air between them.

Please!

Nobody knows what’s going on, especially when the circle starts moving towards the police, and then all of them disappear.

Doral just looks at this, still untransformed, like he’s wondering what the hell just happened. He’s been incredibly stoic so far, when he’s not smug, so seeing him this flabbergasted is great.

An even smugger guy appears behind him, saying he ‘took care’ of those pests. Doral says that was unnecessary, he could totally have done it on his own.

New Guy just smirks.

Inside, Zaizen tells Tougo that he’s going to become an ultimate lifeform, just like he is. He decides it’s a great idea to show off his evolved form – and it’s… eh. I can’t say I’m impressed. It’s not a great design, in my opinion. Giril’s super ‘into it’ though, if that grin as he finishes transforming is any indication.

Not that Zaizen notices, while admiring his form, and proceeds to send a wave of his particular vaariant of bugster virus into his bugvisor to infect Tougo, who screams in agony. We can still hear him screaming for a bit as Doral and New Guy walk in.

Giril asks who Doral just brought in.

New Guy is the one who answers. He’s Souma Haruto, a wizard. This plan of theirs sounds awfully hopeful, and he’d like in.

Doral, apparently unimpressed, mentions that they have no idea whomst the heck he is, and have no reason to trust him.

Haruto’s offended, and points out that Doral’s the one who let the cops track them down, while he’s the one who got rid of them, so clearly he’ll be a way better lookout.

Doral continues to be unimpressed, but Zaizen thinks this all sounds very interesting, and is willing to let Haruto in.

THIS was my introduction to Haruto, you guys.

–––

Back at CR, in the quarantine ward. Which. Uh. Apparently they have two of? And we never actually see the second one again?

Because Takeru’s alone, in the dark, when he receives a call from Shinnosuke, via Takeru’s Condor Denwa, who flies in and turns back into a phone.

Yeah, Takeru’s ‘cell phone’ is actually a rotary phone that is also a condor, and can attach to his sword to turn it into a bow and arrow.

Now This Is Kamen Rider.

We cut to Akari being scanned in the ward we usually see, the one below the office, where… she’s not doing well. On the plus side, being unconcious means that she’s probably not feeling any pain. On the downside… well.

Takeru stumbles in, focused on seeing Akari. Poppy tells him he really needs to rest – but he just asks how much time they have left.

Eight hours remain.

Akari fades momentarily, and seeing this causes Takeru to fade, static crackling along both of them.

Takeru tries to run off, but Onari grabs him, asking where he thinks he’s going.

Shinnosuke told Takeru that he’d found the hideout, so Takeru’s going to try and take them down. Poppy tries to stop him – he’s incredilby wounded, he can’t go out there alone – but Takeru insists. Makoto and Alain are already down, because they were defending akari and him, so he has to do this. He has to!

Onari, reluctantly, lets go. He knows full well that once Takeru’s set his mind to something, there’s really no stopping him. That once Takeru’s decided he’s going to save someone, he’s going to save them, even at his own expense.

Emu watches blankly from the observation window as Takeru runs out.

He starts thinking back to Tougo telling him to ‘hurry up and save him,’ to his telling Tougo that as a doctor, it’s his job to save him, to his telling Poppy that he doesn’t just want to cure people, but also to make sure they can smile, and that that’s the type of doctor he wants to be.

“Excite” starts to play in the background.

Determined, Emu looks up.

“Tougo’s fate… it’s too early to decide!”

(I had to rewind just to watch the following sequence, not for the context and summary, but because I got too distracted by the full version of “Excite” playing to pay as much attention as I normally would. I love this song so much. Takeru got robbed that his theme never played in any form during this movie, but Drive, Gaim, and Wizard all had parts of theirs played. “Warera Omou, Yue Ni Warera Ari” isn’t nearly as good of an OP as “Surprise Drive” or “Just Live More”, and “Life is Show Time” is okay, but not great. But seriously, Takeru’s one of the leads of the film! He should have gotten his song in!)

Takeru is struggling to get onto his bike, which is notably not in it’s kick-ass ghost unicorn form, much to my disappointment. Emu runs up, limping slightly. Takeru has a reason to fight, right? So does he. He’s coming with.

Takeru nods, and they clasp hands.

This isn’t him nodding in agreement, either. This is him nodding in approval.

Takeru, who is 19, has to repeat his last year of high school, and is the senior rider out of the two of them, sees that Emu, who is 24, in med school, and only became a rider a few months ago, is truly ready for this job.

Cut to Shinnosuke making a call, letting Kiriko know that he’s going to be late getting home. He chuckles, telling her that she should be worrying about herself – she’s responsible for two lives now.

Kiriko’s pregnant. He’s gonna be a father.

Saying that he’s headed out, he hangs up the red-and-black phone, and straightens his tie, before walking off.

There are several closeups of his eyes through this – where his expression is more serious than in the wide shots. It’s understandable, really. His father was a police officer, and was killed in action.

He was killed in action, once, before being revived.

And in Surprise Future, Drive’s summer movie, the version of his son that Shinnosuke met? Never knew his father.

So he should always take the job seriously, yes, especially when going into the dangerous situations, but he knows full well that any case could be his last, and that he doesn’t even have the aid of Krim and the team anymore.

He can’t transform, he’s up against people who can, and he is still going forward.

It’s his job, after all, both as an officer and as a Kamen Rider.

Cut to Next Genome.

Zaizen tells Tougo to show him his new, ‘reborn’ form. Tougo’s in pain as he starts flickering back and forth between human and pseudo-bugster, and panicking. Which is fair on so many fronts. He’s being turned into a monster without his consent, because Zaizen is a terrible excuse for a doctor and a scientist. But also, his new form is clearly the same one as Zaizen’s, which is just bad.

Haruto watches, disgusted.

Outside, Takeru and Emu ride up on their respective bikes – Emu using the white one that is apparently hospital property? Or something? We never see it much in-show, but when we do, it’s almost always with both him and Asuna, and it has the same ‘AID’ written on it that’s on the wall in CR. So…

Wait, is this technically Poppy’s bike?!

ANYWAY. They arrive at the abandoned ‘lab,’ only to encounter a smug guy in a black jacket and bright pink pants. Takeru wonders who the heck this guy is, only without attempts at swearing, because Takeru is a Good Boy. Haruto all but rolls his eyes as he tells them it took them long enough, come on in. (It’s here that Excite finishes playing.)

Emu points out that this could be a trap.

Haruto is trying very hard not to roll his eyes at his latest successors. Like he’d set a trap for the good guys, he took lookout duty so he could get them in. (Besides, the newest new guy looks more like he’d belong on that side than he does, not that he’s saying that or anything.)

He’s Kamen Rider Wizard. He’s gonna be their hope.

–––

Okay, before I continue… Emu, no. You are terrible at detecting traps. You keep thinking that the good guys are the ones laying them, and yet accepting strange gashats from people who you know are sided with the bad guys. Every single time Taiga calls you out, you just waltz right on in, despite literally everyone telling you it’s a bad idea. But you realize this might be a trap?!

Emu, please learn how to roll a decent spot check, I’m begging you.

I know that my pleas will go unheeded, because you’re ten episodes in out of 45, and prove just as gullible in the after-series materials, but still.

(Oh, yes, sure, boys, just accept the invitation to play the game from the guy you were totally willing to leave behind on a bench less than one minute ago, there’s no way this could possibly go wrong! Never mind that he’s the one who set nearly everything that went wrong in your lives in motion, or that less than a minute ago he was begging you to let him out. No, just fall for his appeal to your completion egos and- okay, look, much as I love the Para-DX HBV, they made a terrible mistake, which led to the terrible v-cinemas.)

Okay, okay, sorry, sorry. I got carried away again.

–––

The doors to the lecture hall that Zaizen and his cronies have been hanging out in open; Takeru, Emu and Haruto coming in.

Emu shouts Zaizens name, much to said mad scientists apparent amusement.

Doral points out, pissed, that Haruto tricked them. Haruto, being the little shit that he is, says it was just a little magic trick. Surprise~!

Haruto, no. Do not blow a kiss to the guy who already hates you. This is why fandom accuses you of flirting with everyone. Well, that type of thing, and how your spell to get into peoples underworlds is literally called “Engage.”

(Now This Is Kamen Rider.)

Hatena summons some mooks, and we prepare to go into battle.

–––

Also, I’d just like to note that Haruto looks kind of surprised that Emu’s opponents have already brought out minions as early as they have.

The Masquerade dopants, the footsoldiers in W, didn’t show up until episode 13. Same with the Waste Yummies in OOO, and the Dustards in Fourze. His own Ghouls showed up in the first episode, but weren’t nearly as common until Nitoh showed up in episode 17, to give him something to keep him occupied. They weren’t usually summoned except as a distraction, or in a round two or more against a Phantom, so the fact they’re being pulled out pretty much right off the bat is pretty new for him.

–––

Fight time!

First fight scene is Emu versus Giril, in… I dunno where this is, an old lobby? Regardless, he’s not doing great. When he’s up against the mooks, he does okay, managing to toss them back. When Giril shows up, though? He doesn’t land a single hit on her, whereas she, in the span of about a minute:

Kicked him off of desk via knocking his leg out from beneath him; deflected all of his attempts to punch her; twisted his arm behind his back and delivered a few good blows to his torso in the process; kicked him in the chest, knocking hiim back into a column; shoved a rolling cabinet under him, thus flipping him over; and grabbed him around the middle, while bending down, and proceeded to kick him in the face. This last one is exceptionally notable, because Emu was standing up. She had her entire torso at his waist height, and kicked over her back to get him in the face.

–––

Next bout is Haruto versus Doral in a hallway. This starts with Haruto showing off his veteran status, using elbow blows to knock mooks down, and at one point sliding on the floor between the lot of them in order to get a more advantageous position, whereupon he spin-kicks them down.

(Casual note that both Haruto and Nitoh did not punch anyone as Riders. Since their main gimmick was the rings, their fighting styles both incorporated more kicking, and in Haruto’s case, a whole lot of running off of walls, than anything. That way, kids would be… well, less likely to try and punch with their own toy rings on. Also, it probably helped Takaiwa and Watanabe to not shatter their hands, because that would almost definitely have happened if they’d been using them.)

Doral shows up, and nods for the mooks to take their leave. He wants to do this fight on his own, clearly.

And it’s a pretty balanced match, too. See, when Doral’s been fighting as a human, he’s been using his legs, too. He only takes his arms from behind his back when he uses them for balance, or, say, to grab someone and keep them from moving. This way, the two fighting styles balance out. Doral is more stoic and restricted, but powerful. I’m not sure where Zaizen found three scientists who also practiced martial arts, but he sure did. Haruto, by comparison, is improvisational, using his surroundings as well as his limbs. For example, at one point he grabs onto the top of a door frame to pull himself up, so that he can get a height advantage on the considerably taller Doral. This lets him knock Doral off balance, and get him out of his stance, allowing Haruto to go on the offensive.

–––

Next up is Takeru against some Bugster mooks, and he’s doing a good job.

This is a type of fight he’s very used to, after all. The Ganma Commandos came out on day one, so he’s always had to fight against multiple enemies at once, all of whom had swords, just like the bugster mooks here.

He doesn’t have to fight them on his own for very long, though, when the two he’s grappling are hit by gunshots and fall back.

Officer Tomari Shinnosuke is here. Even if he can’t transform… he will always be Kamen Rider Drive!

He manages to take out a few mooks, before Robol shows up and immediately starts owning this fight.

Seriously, he just comes up, and the clothesline maneuver Shinnosuke blocks sends him rolling back a few yards.

Shinnosuke, with Robol grabbing onto the back of his neck (ow), struggles a little to ask if he was the one who wiped out the police squad. Switching stances, and now pulling Shinnosuke’s arm painfully behind his back, Robol just tells him that they need to just give up.

Shinnosuke attempts to go on the offensive, but to no avail. This man is made of solid granite, and seems very dead set on going for Shinnsosuke’s torso, shoulders, and especially his neck with his attacks. Case in point, he at one point grabs Shinnosuke off of the table he’d just been thrown onto, lifting him by the neck before slamming him back down.

He is very visibly having difficulty breathing when Robol then lands a hammer fist onto his chest, with Shinnosuke trying to get his legs around Robol’s neck, but being hurled across the room for his efforts.

Really, after Takeru, Emu, Makoto, Alain, and Hiiro – in that order – Shinnosuke is the next most battered in this movie. Emu’s position being before or after Makoto and Alain is up for debate, because he didn’t pass out, but aside from that factor… Okay, granted, there are only four more riders to include, but given that he’s one of the films Legend Riders, it’s not insignificant.

Emu, Takeru, and Haruto all arrive on scene, and help him to stand. Robol advances-

And someone drops through the ceiling, sending the riders ducking for cover, Robol hurriedly backing up, and the three martial scientists gaping in confusion.

Orange Arms! Hanamichi ON STAGE!

Warhorns and sound effects from 2013 play as Armored Kamen Rider Gaim rises up from his crouch.

It’s Haruto who says his name first – just shouting out “Gaim!”

Shinnosuke looks to be a combination of relieved and surprised.

Emu has zero idea whomst the heck this is.

Takeru is a bit confused, but is probably wondering if this is the guy whose designated enemy had no idea how to use a sword properly.

(For reference, in one of the Ghost special series, Takeru and Makoto fought the ‘final bosses’ of the previous six Riders. Takeru fought Overlord Baron, who uses his sword to try and stab his opponents. When he was Kamen Rider Baron, Kaitou also used his spear to try and slice them. Or bludgeon. It’s hard to say, but he was swinging it like a sword. The one time Kouta used the Banana armor, he used the spear like a spear, so it’s not like Toei wasn’t willing to let the spear be wielded correctly, they just weren’t willing to let its usual owner wield it correctly.)

“Sorry I’m late, guys! Here.” Kouta holds out a very familiar object.

Shinnosuke and his belt grin at each other. Turns out ‘someone’ broke into Krim’s Depression Garage Underground Drive Pit to come get him.

Shinnosuke just sort of smiles, saying that’s a god for you.

Over Gaim’s shoulder, you can just see Emu moving his head to look up at Shinnosuke in disbelief. (Oh, Emu, if only you knew… look, this one is actually a god, okay?)

(Also, I firmly believe that after this movie, Haruto took Shinnosuke aside to ask what that was all about. When he met Gaim, the guy was still a street dancer. Why the heck are you calling him a god?!)

Shinnosuke and Krim are ready for one more ride- and then Robol speaks up, wondering ‘what the heck, are all of them Kamen Riders?!’

Zaizen and Hatena step in, Zaizen holding up his bugvisor to show off the terrified Tougo. He’s evolving him into the Ultimate Lifeform, modifying his human dna to make him immune to disease. It’s the ‘ultimate form of medicine,’ at least, in Zaizen’s view. He also thinks that all of humanity will ultimately follow this path.

Emu staunchly disagrees – he’s not helping Tougo, he’s actively causing him pain, without his consent, very much against his will! Medicine exists to make people smile, and this is not how you are supposed to do that!

The ‘scientists’ response is for the three minions to pull out their proto-gashats and transform, shortly followed by Zaizen.

The four untransformed Riders pull out slash summon their belts.

Haruto puts on his Flame ring, saying it’s time for them to take humanities hope back.

Shinnosuke brings out the Type Speed shift car, saying he won’t let anyone disturb their peace.

Takeru activates his Eyecon, saying that he will connect Akari’s life to the future. He has significant shadows under his eyes that he didn’t have just a few scenes ago.

Emu triggers the Mighty Action X gashat, saying that he’ll change his patients fate with his own hands.

A merciless cacophony of sound effects play as they transform. Oh god, my ears.

It becomes painfully obvious that the reason Shinnosuke leans down so much when he starts to transform is an attempt to draw attention away from how much taller Takeuchi Ryoma is than Taikaiwa Seiji. Unfortunately, it’s a little hard to do that when the movie just had a lineup of the out-of-suit Riders, where Shinnosuke is noticeably taller than everyone else, and Takeru is notably shorter. Then they have a lineup of everyone after transforming, including having Gaim stepping into shot, and everyone is the same height.

“Alright, this is our stage!”

“It’s showtime.”

“Let’s go, Mr. Belt.” “Okay! Start your engine!”

“My life is gonna burn bright!”

“I’ll clear this with no continues!”

The Riders all pose as a team. Shit’s about to get real.

–––

And that’s where I’m stopping for the night. I know full well that the upcoming fights are going to take me a long time to get through, especially since the ‘Ex-Aid Versus Zaizen’ and ‘Ghost Versus Hatena’ fights are ‘kind of important’.

(They’re super important.)

So, seeing as I’m at about… nine pages, and it’s 1 am, I’m calling it here. I’ve got about a half hour of movie left, which I will hopefully be able to get to on my next night off, which is Sunday. I might be able to get two liveblogs out that night, since hopefully we’ll have Zi-O subs relatively quickly.

Key word is might, because who knows how much fangirling and/or raging I may wind up doing for that episode.

With all that said…

See you next game!

#kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider ghost #kamen rider drive #kamen rider wizard #sailorcressy says

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mytreefiddy · 5 years

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It’s SO hard... .

This old planet has made another revolution and another candle is on the birthday cake for me.

I get home from my birthday trip and make the rounds with my friends and to catch up on their 4th of July weekend stories. A few post celebratory drinks later I end up at Mike’s house.

Now Mike was the first person to welcome me to the neighborhood and I was as much as a part of his family as he was mine. His wife Kelly was as sweet as they come and quite easy on the eyes along with their two kids. Their daughter, Taylor was a tomboy and a bit of a trouble-maker if I ever saw one and I had watched her grow up over the years into a bright young women. She just finished her first year of college and seemed to be setting the world on fire. That being said...there was a change I noticed in her. She seemed to be acting a little younger that normal.

Let me set the stage, we were very close and I was the first person she called when she got drunk for the first time so she would have a safe ride home. I was the one she talked to about the tough stuff and even the good stuff. Looking back I would say we had a very close bond and we would always hug and I would give her a kiss on the cheek as any good friend would do. She would sit in my lap or on my knee and really no big deal.

College has always been a time for change and exploration and when she came back and I noticed she was acting a little different, I just thought it was part of the experience. She seemed a bit more clingy to me, but I thought that was here being grateful for a good friendship. She was still a bit of a trouble-maker...no..not robbing a bank or stealing the car, but just a bit snarky and would sneak a bit or two of your dessert. This evening I was eating a cookie and she just leaned over and bit off the other end and laughed. She has such a sweet devilish laugh. I gave her the look and she sheepishly looked away...but before she did...she bit her lip...did she really do that??? No, I am sure she was just getting a crumb or something off her lips. As usual I goosed her sides as payback and the evening continued.

I had the next day off, so I wasn’t worried about a few more drinks and we continued tell stories of our college days (tried to keep them pretty clean) and Taylor shared the usual trials and tribulations of being a Freshman. Throughout the night I noticed that Taylor was staring at me even when I wasn’t sharing my college adventures. She was also kind of snuggled up against me and her little dress kept riding up and the top was not staying put. Let be honest, this wasn’t the first time I saw a flash of panties or a little skin...that just happens when you are around people that much. You file it away as a Whoa! moment and try to look away faster next time.

Taylor still had some baby fat, she wasn’t chubby, but had a nice little shake when she walked and when she flossed, everything seemed to move just right. And yes, I looked away when it became a little to weird. This night I probably saw more than I should have, but I was a bit drunk so my look-away reaction was just slower....was it? She also was calling me her other daddy...that was new. She said I always looked out for her (which I did), but was a little weird being call daddy.

The night went on and my vision was a little bit fussy and I noticed my hand was on something soft and skin...and...why is my hand on Taylor’s bottom under her skirt? Taylor was just talking away to her parents and from this angle no one could see. I tried to move my hand away, but she kept shifting her body to keep it in place. What the hell?? I quickly excused myself to go to the bathroom. Did I do that, did SHE do that???? I need to get out of here before something happens. It was a very nice ass though and those cute panties that she use to wear was now a thong...okay..stop...Okay..thinking about something else.

I told Mike and Kelly that I was going to go back home and thanks for the great evening and drinks. They said I should stay and Taylor agreed.?.? I said I was just going to walk home and it would just be easier so I wasn’t in the way in the morning. I gave them both hugs and a kiss on Kelly’s cheek...a little too close to the lips...man her body felt great against mine...okay...Yes you are now drunk and not thinking straight...go home. I gave Taylor a hug and kiss on the cheek...but this time she turned and it was more on the lips. I shook it off and told her goodnight and she said the same...but really softly after she added daddy. I was out the door!

Just as I was about to close the door, I heard Taylor say, “Wait a minute, I will drive you home...I have to go to the store to pick up a few things.” I tried to pretend I didn’t hear anything...but she ran out grabbed my hand and said hold on. She ran back inside and grabbed her glasses, not the glasses...I love her glasses. I get in her car and kind of pretend to be resting and she is driving me home and just talking away. I told her thank you and that she should get to the store before it gets too late and to text me when she is home so I know she is safe. She tells me that the reason she is going to go to the store is for me...I say why. She tells me she is going to make me a belated birthday cake. I tell her there is no reason to and to save her money. Taylor tells me that she is going to do it so just shut up! I goose her again and joking tell her you don’t talk to you daddy that way. She sits up tall and says, “Yes Sir!”. I tell her okay silly I need to get to bed and thanks again. She then asks if I have any cake mix...I tell her no, I am a chef and I just make it from scratch. She asks for the recipe and I tell her I will text it to her tomorrow and she says, I need to get the ingredients tonight. I cave and tell her she can borrow one of my books and go from there.

We get inside and I stumble a bit in the door and Taylor laughs. “You okay daddy”, she says. I say funny and start looking for the book. After a moment or two I find it, but Taylor is no where to be found. I call out for her and she is in the kitchen. “Can I borrow some coconut oil”, she says, I say sure and send her on her way.

I go to the bathroom and do the whole movie sceen with my hands on the sink looking in the mirror talking to myself. That was close..what was close?? Seemed like something was going to happen...what do you mean? You are imagining things and you are just drunk and horny...get your shit together. Note to self, need a girlfriend fast...lol.

I leave the bathroom and I hear, “OoOOo, Daddy’s been working out.” Taylor what are you doing? I though you left...she said I did, but I know where you extra key is (Great! Now I need to hide that somewhere else). “What are you doing on my bed?”, I say. “It is more comfortable than mine.”, Taylor responds. Okay, you need to get going...this is weird. “You were the one with their hand on my little ass.”, she responds. Well I didn’t put it there. “I know.” she says, but that what made it so fun. Not thinking, I say, “You are so bad!”. “Only for you Daddy!”, she responds. Okay, you really need to go. “Daddy, you will have to make me.” she says as she bites her lip. Okay, I go over to the bed and pick her up and take her to the door. “You forgot my keys...they are by the bed”, she says. I go back and get them and then she forgot something else over and over again. I finally set her down and sit on the bed. I am too tired for these games. I need to get to sleep. She says, “Go ahead, I am not stopping you.” I crawl under the covers and roll over.

I must have fallen asleep and the next thing I feel is someone sitting on me. I look up and Taylor is on top of me with her little dress still on. The straps are slowly falling down her arms and the only thing that keeps the top on is the very edge of the lace trim draped across her hard little nipples. “Do you like them”, she says? She gives a little shake and her top falls off. Her breasts are perfect, perky, and full...she leans in and lets her nipples slowly glaze over my face. She smiles that devilish grin at me and runs her hands slowly down my chest. I grab them before she gets too low to stop her and she leans over and puts her breast in my face. I move my hands to gently push her away and her hand reaches down and slides her hand over me. She then pulls me up closer to her as she is slowly starting to slide up and down and I hear a slow...almost purr..and she says, “Yes, daddy.” ever so softly.

“Taylor, come on”, I say. We can’t do this... . “It’s okay, you are not my really daddy...”, she moans. “Your parents are my best friends...”, I say. Before I can say another word, she locks lips with me. I so don’t want to do this as I tense up. Her mouth is so soft and feels so good, I grab her by the back of her ponytail with one hand and the other on her tight little ass and pull her closer to me. She gasps with pleasure as she wants more. I help guide her gliding up and down my shaft...that feels so good. My cock finds its way out of my boxers and now I can feel every fold as she glides up and down. Her panties are so wet and just fuels the desire.

By now I have learned all of her hot spots as I found out she likes to have her nipples bitten and then sucked on hard and if my right hand “accidentally” lets a finger caress her little back-side she goes wild as she rides me, pressing so hard. Pretty soon she had pulled her panties aside and her kitty lips are around my shaft sliding up and down. With every movement my head is getting closer to going inside her at one point I gasp as I though I was going all the way in and had to stop. Oh! She feels so good I don’t want it to stop. I look at her deep and tell her, “We can’t.” She seems to relent a bit but we are pushing every limit. I can feel my cock throbbing as she is leaning back and moaning.

All of a sudden she stops dead in her tracks and looks into my eyes. “Daddy, I need you to Fuck me or make me cum! I can’t take it any longer.” she moans. I flip her around so she is on top of me. For the first time I can really see her little blue thong, so wet that it is see through. I pull her close to my face gentle teasing her with my tongue on every spot but the one she really wants. I feel her lips wrap abound my shaft...I let out a slight moan...I want nothing more to slowly feed her every inch and not stop. I tell her, “No, it is your turn sweetheart.” “Thank you daddy.”, she says while she takes it deep a couple of times and slowly kisses the head. I pull her panties off and start to get closer to what she wants. Deeper and deeper I go as reach the base and slowly let my tongue split her lips and what starts as a soft moan goes to a loud plea of more. Deeper and deeper I go as my tongue explores every nook not wanting to get her off to soon but wanting her to enjoy the ride. I found every spot that drove her crazy and a few unexpected ones that make her screen louder. My fingers joined in on the action taking care to give those special spots extra attention. My lips were swollen, but sucking on her lips and clit gave her so much pleasure, I couldn’t stop. I turned her over and wrapped my lips around her clit and two fingers were inside at putting pressure on the top in just the right spot. Her body was shaking and her moans were louder as she exploded all over my face. I could have stayed there for hours... .

She looked at me and said, “Oh, you poor face daddy.” As she leaned over and licked up every drop. “Was I a good girl?”, she looked at me and asked as she laid her body against me. There was so much more I wanted to do and needed to do, but I am glad we stopped before things got every more carried away. “Yes, yes you were a perfect little girl!”, I told her and then kissed her.

Time seemed to stand still for a long time and then just as nothing happened, we said our goodbyes...although the kissing lingered and she got in her car and left.

I went back and laid down and tried to think of the amazing night and push the guild aside. As I was drifting off to sleep, I got a text. It was Taylor and she said, I picked up the cake supplies and there was a picture if a grocery bag and then a tub of frosting and sprinkles out of the bag that Taylor was holding. I told her thank you and that I wasn’t that big of a sprinkle fan...but she responded. You will be!!!..... .

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sunsetinmyvein · 5 years

Text

Back to the Street Where We Began

A/N - So... Tumblr’s going to shit. It’s always nice when your favourite hellsite gives fair warning before the impending apocalypse. You guys want a thing to read before the bombs fall?

He took a harsh drag of the joint, leaving the smoke sitting in his lungs for as long as he could hold it before blowing out slowly. A cough tickled the edge of his throat, threatening to spoil his composure, but he managed to avoid it. He looked over to the girl sitting next to him before a smirk spread across his lips. He held the cigarette out to her and she took it, trying to take a similarly long drag but ending up spluttering. The smoke burned the back of her throat from inhaling too quick, inexperience showing through plain as day. A laugh erupted from his lips.

“Hey, I don’t do this half as often as you!” She said, trying to regain her breath.

“All the more reason for you to stop trying to impress and just enjoy yourself. That’s the second time tonight you’ve done that.” He replied as he took it back.

“I wasn’t trying to impress.” She frowned.

“Sure.” He shrugged, sarcasm underlying his tone.

“I wasn’t!”

“Pretty certain you’re definitely trying to impress me. You’ve always been madly in love with me because I’m just so irresistible.” He added as he took one last drag and snubbed the rest out.

A flush crept onto her cheeks at the thought that maybe he had finally worked it out, but her current state made it easier to shrug it off. She shoved his shoulder playfully, making his breath catch in his throat and the smoke come tumbling out of his mouth. He leaned forwards onto his knees, trying to control his coughs. She giggled slightly at the sight before handing him the bottle of water next to her foot. “This is your doing!” He wheezed as he took a swig of water.

“Are you sure it isn’t you being super into me ever since we’ve known each other? And the physical contact just being all too much? I’m just so incredibly irresistible after all.” She mocked, trying her best to impersonate him.

“I recall it was you in highschool who had a picture of me in their locker, sweetheart.” He said as he pressed the tip of his finger to her nose.

“You gave me a photo of the two of us and said ‘hang it in your locker’! And you were in a band, Bren. You were in half of the schools lockers!”

“That is not how I recall things.” He tried to lie before bursting out laughing at some joke only he knew the punchline to. His laughter was always contagious to her, particularly when they were high, as had frequently been the case in high school. They spent a good while laughing before finally calming down. The familiar buzz of the weed had started to settle in for both of them. The couch suddenly felt a lot comfier than it had five minutes ago. He leaned his head against the back of the couch as they both sat crossed legged facing each other. He looked at her with half lidded eyes, a lazy smile on his lips. The drug had truly hit her at this point, and the regular feeling of warmth and slight tingling on the skin had started. Things always felt sort of different while high, sort of… better? She never got the munchies per se, but chewing felt different, food tasted better, so she typically ended up eating anyway. Music sounded better, food smelled better, she could only imagine that other senses experienced the same heightened feeling.

She felt the tension in the air grow, or maybe it was just the tension in her head. “Should we uh… watch a movie or something?” She asked, finally breaking the staring contest they apparently started.

“Sounds good.” He muttered as he turned back around to face the TV. She pressed play on the first movie she saw on his hard drive, more so needing something to fill the silence than to pay attention to. It wasn’t long however before Brendon felt compelled to fill the void himself. “So why do you try to impress me?” He mused as he looked back at her.

“I don’t try to impress you.” She defended.

“You doooooo.” He sung. “You always used to say you liked bands you had never heard of when we first met. You used to come into my work allllllll the time, and I lost track of the amount of times you got me little gifts.” He noted. “I mean… I enjoy all of these things, but I don’t think I ever deserved your company.”

“That’s just me, I got other people gifts and stuff too.” She admitted, hoping that he would drop it. He erupted in giggles all of a sudden.

“I remember this one time, you met me after work and wanted to show me this… this one park ‘cause you really liked it.” He recited, smiling fondly. “We went and sat on the swings for ages, just talking. God, I think we were out until about 3am that night… I really wanted to hold your hand but I don’t think I did.” He added as an afterthought, losing himself in his own memory. Part of her registered everything he had said, a small voice in the back of her brain picked up on one particular part of that sentence, but more of her wanted to be snarky back.

“I think I’d remember if you did that.” She scoffed.

“Why? Because it would scar you for life?” He replied with a roll of his eyes.

“I’d definitely remember.” She reassured quietly. “A better question: why do you always flirt with everyone you meet?” She asked back, jabbing him in the shoulder with her finger.

“I… I don’t flirt with everyone.” He answered as he scratched at the back of his neck nervously.

“You literally kissed Ryan at the show last night.”

“Yeah but that’s part of the act.”

“It still counts.”

“Well, I guess… I don’t think it does though. Because I like attention? I’m a bit of an arrogant bastard who thinks everyone should like me?” He laughed. “My real flirting is different, all the rest of it is just… part of the show that is me.” He said with a proud hand on his chest.

“What’s your real flirting like then?” She asked as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Uh… are you sure you want to know?” He asked uncertainly. He couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in his stomach coming to life at the contact. Suddenly he was entirely unsure of what to do with his hands. He’d been into her for as long as he could remember, but he’d fucked up every single one of his relationships in the past and she deserved better than that. “I mean, it’s just so hard to resist, I don’t know if you’d cope.” He recovered, raising a suggestive eyebrow as he looked down at her.

“Try me.” She shot back as she looked up to meet his gaze.

“Well… I need some context. Who? How long have I known them? What are we doing?”

She thought for a moment. “A nice easy one at the start; random person you just met at the bar.” She suggested as she shuffled her head against him to better gauge his responses. He scratched the stubble forming on his chin thoughtfully.

“I’d probably not offer to buy them a drink right off the bat, that doesn’t seem to work so well these days. I’d… stand at the bar for a while, act like I was looking for my friends. Eventually order a drink but be unable to decide what I want and ask what they’re having. Compliment that it’s a good choice once I’ve taken a sip and then try and spark conversation. Once we’ve found at least… three? Roughly three, areas of common interest, go in for an arm touch and judge the reaction. Then it’s easy from there.” He finished with a wink.

“Very well thought out.” She nodded in approval.

The silence briefly returned between them, the TV continuing in the background but neither really hearing it. She hummed aloud to herself as the gears in her brain turned. “All right… How about… I dunno, a colleague?”

“How close do we work together?”

She thought about this for a moment. “They started a year ago and you see them every day but don’t work together.”

“Well, obviously that’s a long-term sort of plan. Start by being where they are, when they normally go to grab coffee in the morning be there before they are, make little bits of small talk when we cross paths. Gradually start slipping cool things into conversation; ‘I had a gig on the weekend with my band.’ ‘I was voted most awesome hair in high school.’”

“You were not.”

He shushed her loudly as he wiped his whole hand down her face. “I am not done. You start by being confident, and then you gotta be honest. Or at least seemingly so. ‘Had to take my pet to the vet on the weekend.’ Doesn’t matter if it’s true, but get that sympathy ball rolling, show that you’re more than just cool and suave.”

“You are neither of those things.”

“I am not. Done. Once they seem to think I’m a giant softy, say something else all heart-felt and ask them out for a drink. They will of course say yes because I am so charming. Buy them a drink, and then we’re back at scenario one.” He grinned proudly.

“You have thought about all of this too much.” She laughed. The smile remained on his lips as leaned back into the couch, his eyelids drooping over his eyes.

“I am a master of getting what I want.” He chuckled. The weed coursed through his veins, making his limbs feel heavy but comfortable. It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t move, he just didn’t want to. Though, the look she was giving him and the fact that she was still leaning against his side added to that. He wasn’t sure she’d ever quite looked at him that way before.

“One last one…” She all but whispered, the sinking feeling settling firmly in the pit of her stomach. Did she really want to ask..?

“Shoot, darlin’.”

She swallowed hard, meeting his dark brown eyes that stared at her fondly. The smile that crept up to the corner of his eyes nearly made her chicken out, but she pushed past the anxious feeling. “What about a long term high school crush?” She asked quietly, turning her interest back to the TV to avoid having to take in his reaction. His eyes widened for a moment as he turned to look at her. He wasn’t sure if that was a blush dusting her cheeks or if it was just the light of the TV. But either way it left her hard to read. His heart sat at the top of his throat and he had to give himself a moment to compose an answer.

“Well, I,” He cleared his throat to try and get rid of the shake in it. A part of his brain already had the plan set out and ready to go like he did for the last two scenarios. But instead of answering with a well formulated and calculatedly flirty answer, his mouth decided to do whatever it wanted. “I haven’t actually… worked that one out yet.” He admitted. She frowned at the screen in front of them, but still didn’t dare meet his steady gaze.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “You’ve asked out so many people from high school?” She added, thinking back to his conquests that he had mentioned in the past.

“Yeah, but I never, uh… truthfully had any feelings for them.” He confessed, feeling his face burn up at having to admit it.

She let out an incredulous laugh, the movement sending shivers through him. He felt caught off guard for a moment when he didn’t understand the joke, but eventually she made herself clear.

“Why does that not surprise me?” He felt a pang of embarrassment at that. Did he really come across as that sort of guy? But before he had enough time to process that thought, she continued. “So you never had any high school crushes?” She asked. It had almost slipped her mind why she had asked this in the first place. She was too caught up in the train of thought that Brendon had apparently never liked anyone at all in high school. She wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or a bad thing for her own chances.

“No, I-I did.” He nodded, running a hand through his thick hair. She expected him to continue but he let the silence hang in the air between them.

“If you had crushes on people, and you dated people, how can you not have had the chance to properly flirt with a high school crush?” She asked. Her brain seemed to be struggling to keep up at the pace it normally would. Any and all over thinking and hypothesising had gone out the window.

“I was too nervous to ever flirt with the girl I had feelings for, so I dated other people instead.” Brendon desperately hoped that maybe the couch would just open up and swallow him whole. This is not how he wanted things to go. Over the years he had thought of many potential ways to confess his feelings, not a single one involving him being under the influence and not able to string a full thought together. He had hoped to do some grand gesture one day when he was maybe 100 and had worked out how to get over his fears of rejection and losing people that he cared about. He took a large gulp of the beer on the coffee table, trying to push aside his irrational worries. A little flicker of hope burned in her chest. He had dated a fair amount of people from their high school classes, that didn’t exactly leave many people left for him to have crushed on.

It might have been the drug, but something gave her a burst of confidence. Maybe she could ask a few more questions to try and work out who it was he had a crush on.

“So, how would you do it then? Like, hypothetically if you had to now.” She shrugged, trying her best to sound casual.

He caught himself on the beer going down his throat, nearly spluttering the mouthful over the coffee table. “Like… how would I flirt with them these days?” He asked eventually after a few coughs. She nodded in response, still fixated on the movie in front of them. He considered this for a moment. How was he meant to answer that? Did he just make something up? Her mind began to wander before his voice dragged it back. “Well, in this… hypothetical, do I still know her-them?” His voice wavered slightly with his erratic pulse.

“Yeah,” She laughed under her breath, “let’s say you’re still pretty good friends.”

He drummed the back of the couch with his fingers, thinking carefully about his next words. “Knowing me, nothing would’ve happened so far. So there’s nothing to jump off of to lead into the flirting.” He started. “But, uh, I would probably drop a few select sentences into conversation. See how she reacts to them. I’d bring up a few particular topics in conversations over the years and try to work out where I might stand with her.” She could feel his gaze burning into the side of her head. “It’s probably most likely that – that I’ll be a total wuss and never do anything about my feelings. I’ll be too scared to ruin a good thing. So I’ll invite her round every other week with the intention of telling her and never do it.” His voice dropped at the end. He wanted nothing more than to be able to look into her eyes and try to work out if she understood what he was saying, but she still intently watched the TV. She watched it with so much interest that he was worried his words might be falling on deaf ears. “I’d probably ask her to come round one Friday night to get stoned and watch a movie with me in the hopes that maybe it will feel like high school again. And maybe I can pretend I didn’t spend far too many years not doing anything about how I felt.” His breath hitched in his throat. He was pretty confident he could not have made it any more clear without opening shouting from the rooftops that he had wanted to date her since they met in maths class eight years ago.

Unbeknownst to him, she had not been paying attention to the TV at all. She had been listening to his words with her full attention and refused to look at him so that he wouldn’t see the blush furiously spreading across her cheeks. The weed in her system slowed her usually rapid mind. Normally this worked in her favour while she was high, because it was easier to calm down. But right now she wanted nothing more than to overthink the situation in 30 seconds and work out how to best respond to his confession that he was into her. That her feelings were mutual. One thought settled in her mind and then refused to dislodge itself. The thought that she should do what she’s wanted to do for years and kiss the man beside her. She sat up slightly, shuffling away from his shoulder and turning to look at him. His gaze looked entirely worried, but something sat there underneath his tension. Something… tender? Something in her pushed her towards the confidence boost she needed, it gave her that boost and then shoved her right onto the other side as her lips crashed into his without another thought. He made a muffled noise of surprise before melting into the touch and kissing her back. It took a few seconds for their brains to register what was happening, but when they did they both felt like their nerves were on fire. It was a fierce enough sensation that they both pulled back for a moment, staring at each other with their pupils blown and chests heaving.

Questions still sat at the edge of her mind that she spewed out before she could consider them. “Y-you… so it’s me, right?” She asked, trying to keep her tone steady.

He laughed loudly. “Yes, it’s you.” He confirmed as he tackled her into a hug, knocking her back onto the couch with a thud. “I never assumed that you actually were madly in love with me due to my tantalizing nature and undying charm. You said you weren’t trying to impress me, you liar.” His teasing words sounded a lot more loving when he was lying over her with his forehead pressed to hers. The smile playing on his lips and the sparkle cast in his eyes from the light of the TV – or maybe cast by his apparent amusement – made him look even more attractive than he usually was. How he hadn’t spontaneously combusted under the pressure of his good looks was a mystery to her.

“Of course I was trying to impress you, you were the hottest guy in school and for whatever reason you decided you wanted to be friends with me. I felt like I had to make sure I was worth your time.” She scoffed, trying not to lose her voice at the intense atmosphere surrounding them.

“You’re always worth my time.” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, slowly starting to trail them down the side of her jaw. The feeling sent a shiver down her spine. She had been right in her suspicions of things feeling better under the influence. What might have felt nice under other circumstances felt like potentially the best experience of her life in this one. His lips trailing across her skin left goosebumps along her arms and made the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

“So…” He breathed against her neck, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. “What do we do now?” She had no clue where this confidence was coming from (probably the joint that Brendon had given her however long ago that he had described as “the really good shit”) but she was compelled to pick up the flirtatious sword Brendon normally swung.

“We could, ah… make up for lost time?” She suggested. Instantly she felt like she shouldn’t have said it. Thankfully her worries were quelled as quickly as they had risen by the grin that spread across his face. He pressed his lips to hers softly.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea to me, darlin’.”

#Brendon Urie #Brendon Urie x Reader #sunsetinmyvein

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