#if i scratch my memory hard enough. I think this kind of inspired by the next gen au of Kirby? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexcaldownapier · 2 years

Text

Film Craft Disciplines - Pre-Production and Cinehaiku (Weeks 1-6)

I haven’t quite been on the ball so far this year when it comes to blog posts, but I’m getting started now. Let’s start with the Cinehaiku project.

Cinehaiku

This project has been a lot of fun so far, very relaxed, organic and creative. I like the experimental, poetic framework. And any project where the brief talks about “the sound-image relationship” is gonna be good.

We found our group quickly: old favourite collaborators Tom and Natalia and also Katie, who I haven’t worked with since first year. We all pitched a few ideas to eachother before landing on one I pitched: someone lying in bed, fixating on events from the day past. From this original idea we fleshed it out and made it a little less one-note depressing (if relatable) and a little heart-warming. We developed it into two people thinking about a date they’ve gone on before we see that, despite the awkward moments that each of them is fixating on, they are in the same bed and the date was a success overall. I really like where we took it - instead of just being a representation of something I think everyone can relate to, it kind of has a message now, that maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought and fixating on the negatives can mean not appreciating the positives.

The way I’d first envisioned the idea was inspired heavily by Trainspotting 2 - I’ve always loved the visuals. Stylish but poetic.

I’ve always wanted to play about with in-camera effects that can create an interesting style and convey a meaning - a subjective image. So, we planned to use a projector to show the thoughts of the characters, a little more narrative than this inspiration shot, but still very subjective. We shot a bunch of awkward interactions between the characters while on a wee date (sitting chatting and strolling through the meadows) and then Tom chopped them up and stuck them together to create the idea of someone fixating on small details. He had some moments play on repeat and intercut with small details of fidgeting and awkward facial expressions.

We then projected this awkwardness onto our two characters in bed as they look uncomfortably cringed out by their behaviour. The final shot is then both of them in bed with one unified image of them slowly starting to hold hands as one of them rolls over to be with the other.

So, we gave Claire (the star of our film last term, excellent actor) a message - they’re a reliably fun and talented presence and paired them up with Ava, Katie’s flatmate and also a great actor. They had a lot of chemistry and were both chipping in great wee ideas for the scenes. Katie took the lead with directing them with us all adding in suggestions; Natalia shot the film and I recorded sound on set. It was a lovely lil shoot and everyone got on very well - good vibes.

Tom is editing the film together and then I’ll start with the sound design. This is one area I’m a little unsure of the direction for. I’m going to do lots of experimentation with different expressionistic approaches that can accentuate the revelation of the film, from discomfort to appreciation. I want to have some bleed of the sound of the memories to emphasise the fractured editing, with some hard cuts in the sound to match the picture. Another idea I want to play with is the use of creaking or scratching, sounds that signify discomfort, or even some analogue sounds, maybe even drawing attention to the projection, accentuating the visual metaphor. Anyways, lots to try out and I’ve got enough time to experiment. Natalia is going to grade the image and then we’re going to work out if we’ll need any animation on top.

Very excited and happy with this project :)))

Film Craft Disciplines

This is another exciting project with more exciting people (we will all miss you, Sofia). Our group:

Producer: Beth Lindsay Director: Samuel Duner Writer: Ben McMorran Sound: Rowen Henderson Editor: Thomas Walker

And I will be trying my hand at the cinematography.

I haven’t done much cinematography throughout the course, focusing mainly on sound design and writing - so why the left turn? I previously found myself a little inexperienced and a bit anxious about taking on a camera role, whereas sound was an area that also interested me a lot but was often a role that not as many people were interested in so I could always try my hand at. But, over the summer, Natalia was making a short and needed a camera operator for a couple days of filming, so I stepped in. I found myself really enjoying it and not feeling out of my depth or clueless at all, it seemed like I had actually retained a lot of the camera knowledge from the past two years. I had also bought myself a camera (a sony alpha) and had been trying it out through the summer and again, found myself able to get shots that I actually liked.

So, with all that combined, I found that I really wanted to try it out this year and felt confident enough to go ahead with it.

So, the project, let’s start with the script.

I wasn’t too hot on the script to be honest, I found it very strange. The structure, characters and style all felt pretty incongruous. The lack of any real character arcs also meant the script felt more akin to a scene in a larger story than a stand-alone short. I think the rest of the group shared this view so we sat down all together and discussed what we wanted to do with the script. Sam was wanting to make sure we all felt invested in the story so we could all be passionate about doing our best work. Ben was mainly interested in working out what the character motivations and arcs could be. Tom and I then talked a bit about our experiences of internalised homophobia and as a group, we settled on a central theme - the relationship between shame and desire.

I’m really happy with this group we’ve got. Again, there’s some old favourites - Tom and Rowen, who I worked with last year on our film adaptation, a project I really loved, and Ben who I worked a lot with throughout first year - as well as some people I’ve always wanted to work with. Samuel and I had talked about working together at the end of last term so we immediately formed a group - and I think we have pretty similar tastes and approaches so I’m excited to develop the visual approach in the next few weeks. I’ve always admired Beth’s work - just non-stop efficiency which is already showing itself in the smooth organisation of our pre-production and again, another person I think is great to work with in creative discussions. It’s a shame to have lost Sofia, but Beth is confident she can take over that role on top of her producing work.

Now, onto the actual cinematography.

Sam and I have been having lots of chats from the start as to what kind of visual style we want for the film as well as how we want to go about achieving this through kit and preparation.

As the story focuses on quite messy interpersonal dynamics, we’ve spoken about using quite wide shots to allow the audience to examine the interactions and the body language of the characters. I’ve always found that I really respond to conversations shot in a two-shot as the meaning of the scene is within the way it is filmed - the interplay is captured all at once. We’ve also talked about giving the audience lots to play with and not prescribing a specific interpretation of the characters and their actions - showing as many truths of the situation as possible. I really like Sam’s idea of using these stark insert shots as a prominent part of the vocabulary of the film (as above). Assigning meaning to these objects left over from the night before could work really well in adding a sense of dread and depth to the whole scene, implying a lot of the backstory of the film. Sam’s vision of the film is one that has a lot of space, both literally and figuratively and using these inserts can help the audience build a large picture from small details. In terms of the lighting, it is slightly dictated by the time of day and the location of the scene, but there’s lots of fun to be had with it.

Natural light falling through a window never fails to trigger some strange melancholic feeling in the viewer. Cold morning light, like in the bottom right image, can feel so isolating while still being so beautiful and cinematic. This is something I’ll need to experiment with - I’m torn between having a hard block of sunlight, shaped by the window frame or a more general soft lighting. Something to talk to the group about. Supplementing this key light with some fill or back-lighting and then some warm practical lights to add a bit of colour contrast and depth to the space, could make quite a brooding cinematic look. The class last Friday was really helpful in terms of making me a lot more clear on how I can use the kit available to create the right lighting - the camera stuff may be a bit more complex as I would need to test the different lenses as well as any filters we plan on using to soften up the image. I think I have the overall approach pretty set, pending some more conversation with Sam, but the specific technicalities as well as what shots we need in terms of conveying narrative beats is still to be set, again pending some more conversation and collaboration.

On previous projects, I’ve had a tendency to overstep and try to dominate conversation so I’m making sure I don’t do that this year, through the use of some practical steps. Alex’s rules for combatting your tendency to be a domineering dick: 1. don’t be a part of conversations you have no need to be a part of, 2. appreciate the roles and responsibilities of others, 3. understand that your idea of the story is not the most important, and may not be the best version

The next week, we have multiple meetings both as a whole group and some visuals-specific meetings. So, I’m very excited to get the whole approach set and start thinking about what pre-production work is needed. I prefer to work with a lighting plan and shot list as well as a pre-vis, where I can go to the location and block out the scene with actors and a stills camera, but I’ll need to see how the rest of the group like to work and if this approach is the best for our project.

Excited :))

#film craft disciplines

1 note · View note

asaintvoid · 2 years

Text

Pick a Card Reading

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔦𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

❦ ————— ℜ𝔢𝔡 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I always carry with me the warmth of my flesh, but I still need to wear a coat whenever I’m out, cause I still find it hard to show you the true red of my blood, I often feel like a little kid who needs to be embrace before taking the next step. There’s something about myself I don’t quite understand yet, and I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel like I’m lost in the middle of the ocean screaming for help although I know how to swim. When times of fire come around I always hide behind my shadow, I stay there, quiet and steady, remembering how life was like when I could walk with a blindfold on, trusting my feet, trusting the ground, trusting the gifts inside of me, and the ones I was meant to find. Now I walk slow, always looking over my shoulder, with the fear of losing the things I have left and the ones that don't even belong to me. Holding onto what it was has been my safe place, the bitter memories are my most frequent visitor, and my tears have built their way home on their own. Nobody knows who I truly am, and how passionate my love is. I am the strongest beating heart that exists, the pain I’ve carried will remain with me, my scars have traced every letter of my name into the walls of my body and I will no longer hide from them. From now on I will show myself to you, I will no longer be embarrassed by what my veins look like, and I will move on, leaving behind my old flesh and bone next to those who don’t accept the true red of my blood. You guys will forever inspire those around you, your confidence is the missing piece to a path full of dreams, own your words, your thoughts and honor your soul. Accept love from others, and give it to those who are worthy of it, but never forget to save some for yourself.

❦ ————— 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I am what they call a magical heart. My blood has come from the brightest side of the moon, and your secrets are safe with me, whoever I was yesterday does no longer exist, it has died with the water falling from the mountain, but the echo of the old me will always be here. I have beaten long enough to trust my destiny and those who are meant to join me. I am a mystery to those who only see with their eyes and my words are too powerful to those who have chosen pretty lies, and my skin wasn't always golden. I have walked on roads full of signs and clear directions and still felt like my destination was on the opposite side, I've not always listened to that feeling, and I have kept my hands in my pockets while a few of my dreams were laying on the ground. My power and my empty cup have been denied more times than I could handle, and my misfortune has been abused by those who made me think the fault was all on me. The impossible has been my most faithful friend, I have created from scratch the parts of myself people find quite comfortable to rely on. I will always be here, and my knowledge will remain, strong and calm like every tree, I accept what the future holds for me and my growing roots, with love, the moonlight, and few rays from the sun will always be my best hope. You guys will forever live through every memory you’re part of, every action you’ve taken, and every person you’ve met. Your sword will always be needed in future battles, and if victory ever leaves your side, you’d still be remembered as part of the greatest, golden hearts with immense shine.

❦ ————— 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I have encountered every part of my soul, always in solitary through a cave that’s full of my deepest thoughts, the kind I’m not capable to share, thoughts that keep me wondering if I’m ever going to be able to fly away from where I am. I have learned to love brutality and I’ve been forced to forgive it, I’ve been told to change myself in exchange for a kiss, I’ve been told to wait at the end of the line, to wait for others and take them back. I always played safe yet I constantly find myself expecting the worst, living feels like going in circles on a ground made of quicksand, and the adversities keep facing me but my face is always facing down. I don’t know the intimacy of feeling the beat of another heart that’s not me, I’m the only heart I know with black blood, and veins of sorrow trying to keep an exhausted body alive. The blissfulness in the hours makes the days a bit easier, I am constantly trying to look at the sun without hurting my eyes, to walk uphill as I carry three heavy swords in the center of my core. I often think if there’s any humanity left on me, and then I take a second to listen myself beat, from the deepest part of me I am still beating, from the ugly side of my nature I am still beating, from the bittersweetness of my existence I am still beating and there’s no heartbeat as pure as mine. You guys will always survive the hard side of life, there won’t be a heartbreak capable of taking love away from you, there’s nothing spare with your nature, you feel as much as you breathe and your life will never be dictated by someone else’s sins, be life and be death always, all at once.

❦ ————— ❦ ————— ❦

Dividers / Pictures

#tarot reading #tarot #tarotreading #free tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card reading #pick a card readings #pick a card #free readings #free tarot #pick a pile reading #pick a pile

219 notes · View notes

pastafossa · 3 years

Text

Pastafossa’s Fic Masterlist

All of my fics can be found on my AO3 account and my longest fic, The Red Thread, will eventually be posted here on tumblr as well! I primarily write Daredevil x Reader, with some Din Djarin x Reader and Bucky Barnes x Reader thrown in for flavor.

🔥 = Smutty/18 and up only 🌧️ = contains heavy angst 🐧 = Daredevil fic set in The Red Thread fic universe, though not always required reading. 🎄 = holiday fluff Instead of a taglist, if you would like to be notified when I post a new fic or chapter, please follow + set notifications for my sideblog @pastaxandria. That blog will only update when I drop a new fic or chapter.

Fandom: Daredevil Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader

To stop my massive Matt Murdock x Reader fic, The Red Thread, from devouring my general masterlist, it now has its own masterlist, which can be found here! For organization’s sake, I’m still leaving the fic link and summary here.

FICS

✞ “The Red Thread” (Matt Murdock x F!Reader):

Summary: It's said that every soul is connected to another by a red thread, and that these two souls are destined to meet. The thread, though it may tangle or stretch, will never break. That's not your experience, lucky or unlucky enough as you are to see the strings that bind people together. A red thread is developed and grown, not born, and you've worked hard to weed out any semblance of crimson that might cling to you. You pay your bills, you keep your head down, and you find whatever lost people or items you're hired to sniff out. Then the Devil of Hell's Kitchen tags along on a job, and your plan falls apart. 🔥

✞ "Moan For Me”: You wanted every last bit of him, whether his body wanted to give it or not, and he’s just as eager to share. (GN!Reader) 🔥

✞ "Ode to a Coat”: Inspired by Born Again set shots. Matt wears his new coat to Josie’s and your thoughts turn to pure sin. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, you’re both in an alley and... well. Let’s just say he won’t be returning the coat anytime soon. (F!Reader)🔥

✞ “This is a Code-F”: Matt gets the flu, and it’s up to you to look after him. How hard could it be? (GN!Reader)

✞ “It’s Really... Yellow?”: Foggy needs you to help him convince Matt the new red and yellow suit is terrible. Unfortunately for Foggy, you find Matt just as attractive in red and yellow. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ “A Brief Existential Crisis”: After the events of She-Hulk, episode 8, Matt requires a little pep talk... and maybe some head scratches while you’re at it. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ “I’m Sending A Raven”: After you a=re kidnapped by The Man in the White Coat, Matt and his allies are in a race against time to save you. But will he make it in time? (F!Reader)(Darkfic warning: reader discretion advised) 🌧️🐧

✞ “Hubris”: Bucky Barnes and Matt Murdock are human disasters without a lick of sense. At least Sam and you are there to, kind of, keep things under control. (F!Reader)

✞ “I’ll Be Better, I Promise”: You get insecure and think Matt deserves better, so you try to leave him. (GN!Reader) 🌧️

✞ “Appreciation”: You show your appreciation for Matt’s chest by planting your face in it while he teases you about it. (F!Reader)

✞ "Memory”: amnesia angst in which The Red Thread’s Reader loses her memories of her romance with Matt just before she comes back from her 3 months away. No happy ending. (F!Reader) 🌧️🐧

✞ “Haunted”: a sequel to the above. You give yourself one month to see if your memories return, but while Foggy tries his hardest to help, Matt finds himself in a depressive spiral over the loss of what he had with you. (F!Reader) 🌧️🐧

✞ "We’re Not Keeping Him”: You bring home a kitten and Matt is resistant... at first. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ “What Was That?”: Matt and you have to stop into a haunted house and things get spooky, at least until Matt’s catholicism saves the day. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ “The Biggest Tree In All The Kitchen”: Matt figures out you want a big Christmas tree, and the two of you attempt to drag an 18-footer into your apartment. It goes as well as expected. (F!Reader) 🐧🎄

✞ “And The Holly Cookies, Too”: Matt is determined to be your Christmas cookie taste tester, even if it kills him. (F!Reader) 🐧🎄

DRABBLES

✞ What If: Matt presents you with a courtship rock in front of the penguin’s zoo exhibit, and Foggy loses it. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ What If: You and Matt develop a tradition of hiding the rock for each other to find when either of you has a bad day. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ What If: Matt is marrying you and gets a penguin cake topper (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ How on earth did Matt get his new red and gold Daredevil suit through airport security? (F!Reader)

✞ Matt is basically a big cat, which means you have to cup, smoosh, and kiss his face at least once. (GN!Reader)

✞ A peaceful start to Valentines for you and Matt (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ Art-inspired drabble of you topping Matt (art included) (F!Reader)🔥

✞ To contrast above: Devil!Matt topping and biting you. (F!Reader) 🔥

✞ Matt Murdock and his sensitive thighs (F!Reader) 🔥

✞ Melting Matt Murdock with some head scratches. (F!Reader) 🐧

✞ Matt Murdock hearing you sing under your breath in Josie’s (F!Reader)

✞ Ask response drabble: “What would Jane and Matt get each other for Christmas?” (F!Reader) 🐧 🎄

✞ Headcanon drabble: Crying (GN!Reader)

✞ Headcanon drabble: Hands

✞ Headcanon drabble: Romance (GN!Reader)

✞ Headcanon drabble: Affection (GN!Reader)

✞ Headcanon drabble: Scars (F!Reader)

✞ Headcanon drabble: Sex (F!Reader)🔥

✞ “Do you think Matt’s skin is more or less sensitive when he’s drunk?” (GN!Reader)🔥

HEADCANONS

✞ Headcanon: Four random headcanons for Matt Murdock and You

✞ Headcanon: Matt is a great cook, he’s just a little unconventional about it.

✞ Headcanon: Does Matt Murdock like getting pegged? 🔥

✞ Headcanon: How Matt hugs you

✞ Ask: “Thoughts on Dominant Reader with Matt?” AKA: Why Matt Murdock is a switch. 🔥

✞ Ask: “What kinks do you think Matt has?” AKA: answer followed by a fic-list of ten of Matt Murdock’s kinks with you. 🔥

✞ Ask: “What are some other pet names Matt might use for F!Reader?”

Find more Matt Murdock on my Flufftober 2021 and Kinktober 2021/2022 lists!

Fandom: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Ship: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

FICS

❄ “Can I Show You Something?” : Bucky brings you flowers. It doesn’t go as planned. (F!Reader)

DRABBLES

❄ Headcanon drabble: Affection (F!reader)🔥

❄ Headcanon drabble: Sex (F!Reader)🔥

❄ Headcanon drabble: Guilt (F!Reader)🌧️

❄ Headcanon drabble: Romance (F!Reader)

❄ Find more Bucky Barnes on the Flufftober and Kinktober lists!

Fandom: The Mandalorian Ship: Din Djarin x Reader

FICS

☾ “You Wanna Try That Again?” : What started as an argument over your trip to the market quickly morphs into something else entirely. (AO3 Link | Tumblr link) (F!Reader)🔥

DRABBLES

☾ Headcanon prompt: Sympathy

☾ Headcanon prompt: Memory

☾ Find more Din Djarin on the Flufftober and Kinktober lists!

Kinktober 2021 2022

My Kinktober 2021 list that started in 2021 and was unfinished due to moving, and is now continuing in 2022, can be found here. Ships at present include:

Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Flufftober 2021 (31/31 complete)

Find my 31 Flufftober fics here! Ships include:

Matt Murdock x F!Reader and GN!Reader

Din Djarin x F!Reader and GN!Reader

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Frank Castle x Reader GN!Reader

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #fanfic #FATWS #daredevil #the mandalorian #fic masterlist #the red thread #no use of y/n

2K notes · View notes

hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

Reputation

Pairings: Johnny x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, some fluff

Request: Angst 42 and 48 ➵ “You promised.” “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.” / @jungcherie

(im so sorry i took so long.... i turned a drabble into a story... oops)

Johnny Suh had a reputation that was unmatched.

There was no other way to put it.

And a reputation like his left trails of tears.

A pool of tears that you were currently drowning in.

It was obvious Johnny was dangerous, perhaps that’s why you were drawn to him. While every single one of your instincts had you fighting and rejecting him, you were desperate for him all the more.

It was March 13th that you lost your first will.

“Y/N, right?”

You turned around to find a familiar face towering over you.

“Yeah.”

It was that stupid smile that had you.

“Hey, we have have Communications together. I was wondering if you wanted to do that project together?” He scratched the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “I just know that you’re insanely smart so... Sorry, wait, that sounds like I’m just talking to you for your grades.”

You giggled nervously, a habit that you did when you were uncomfortable.

“Look, I just... do you? You know, wanna do the project together? I mean, I’m a pretty smooth talker so I can do the presentation. I get good grades too...”

Stupid smile.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. There’s actually a little party at my frat tonight, you maybe wanna come? Get to know each other before we drown in work?”

Fucking stupid smile.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” You blushed at the idea, cursing at yourself for being so obvious.

Parties weren’t really your thing.

But at the time Johnny Suh was.

Your ears were pounding because of the insanely loud level the music was at. You were actually shocked that no one had called the cops with a noise complaint, but the fact that they were on frat row made more sense.

“Y/N. You made it.” A arm was flung over your shoulder and, thankfully the lights were both dim and flashing enough that he couldn’t see the way that you blushed at the action.

“Yeah. Is it always this loud?” You asked, still not so comfortable with the atmosphere.

“What?” Johnny yelled, pointing at his ear, indicating that he couldn’t hear you. Of course he fucking couldn’t. Then he jerked his thumb to the right, nodding at the backyard, which was seemingly empty.

With his hand placed on your back, he guided you outside, your head already thanking him from the escape of noise pollution. It was far better outside of the house.

The two of you collapsed onto the swinging chair, sighing as you cleared your head.

“So parties aren’t really your thing?” Johnny leaned closer, noting the look of relief that you had donned the moment you exited.

“It’s not that I hate them... I’m just not a fan. I mean a bunch of sweaty, horny drunk people grinding on each other. I just like smaller things.” You explained, staring up at the dark sky, shivering slightly at the cool breeze.

“You didn’t have to come.” Johnny suddenly looked guilty, “I didn’t mean to force you into coming, I just... thought I’d invite you.”

You quickly backtracked, “No, you didn’t force me. If I didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have.” You ignored the voice in the back of your head that begged to differ.

“Right.” He grinned, as if he could read your mind. “You’re not great at lying, but I’m gonna pretend that I believe you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Were you playing beer pong?” You asked suddenly, causing him to look at you in confusion.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

You laughed, looking away from him, “You have quite the reputation Mr. Suh, even someone like me knows the extent of your skills.”

Johnny smirked, liking how easy you were making it for him. “Is that so? Is that the only skill of mine you’ve heard about?”

You raised your eyebrows, hating the turn that your mind took. “W-what kind of other skills did you have in mind?” You stuttered out.

Suddenly it felt like you were caged in, his arms tense around your frame, causing you to lean back against the back of the swing.

“Tell me what you’ve heard.”

You averted your eyes, unable to take his heavy gaze. His eyes had turned dark, full of lust, and you tried desperately to forget the effect they were having on you.

As if sensing how uncomfortable you were getting, he backed off, dusting off some invisible dirt on his shoulder. He cocked his head to the side with a sly smile, happy with a new challenge.

Things weren’t going to be as easy as he thought they were, but that’s what made it fun.

“No that’s so stupid. Are you kidding me? Robin could absolutely never beat Batman. Is that even a question?” Your hands were waving animately, far too much for an argument about fictional superheroes.

“Sure. I’m just saying that Robin could totally catch him off guard, like out of the blue, you know.” Johnny slurped on his drink shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t care.

“No. Absolutely not. First of all Robin doesn’t have the guts to do something like that and second of all Robin doesn’t have any powers. How on Earth would he beat him?”

“Umm... Batman doesn’t have powers either.” He made a duh face at you, which you chose to ignore.

“Yeah, well he’s got money, and that’s basically a super power.”

“Let’s be real, Batman isn’t even really a real superhero. He’s just a hero. Period.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at the argument. “That’s a whole different story.”

“I’m just saying.” He sang back teasingly.

“And I’m just saying that this is stupid. How did we even get here?” You laughed, trying to remember how this conversation came about.

“Uh, you made the bold choice of saying that the Batman vs. Superman movie was shit. Very controversial by the way.” He frowned at the memory.

You let your bag fall heavily on the library table, earning you a few glares as studying students dug into their books.

You sent an apologetic look before sliding into your seat. “Let’s just get this presentation done. Our presentation date is the 23rd and I don’t even have a clue of what to write it on.”

“Well the topic is influencers that change your life. Do you have anyone in mind?”He asked, flipping through his notebook, which didn’t really have anything but drawings in them.

“Not really, is there anyone for you? I mean influencer is kind of vague isn’t it? We could pick like an athlete too, or a musician. Those are technically influencers right?”

He nodded, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah. Influencers don’t even have to be famous do they? Like they can just be someone in your life that made a huge impact on you. Like your parents or something.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that’s kind of hard when you’re working in groups. Like you’re not gonna want to talk about my grandma, you know. Like you don’t even know her. It’s probably just easier to use a famous icon.”

“Okay, so who?” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it would give him inspiration.

“Hmmm... maybe we could do someone like Michael Jackson. Like he may not have affected us personally, but he affected the way that the music and performance was seen afterwards. That’s influential and life changing right?”

“I guess.” He cocked his head, “We could at least start with brainstorming ideas for him and then if we feel like it’s not working we can change it.”

“Cool. I guess we can start with that then.”

And you did. You spent every afternoon for the next week and half with each other in the library, and a little more outside of it.

“That one’s the big dipper.”

You grinned following his finger, but had more difficulty finding exactly what he saw.

“How do you know it’s not the little dipper?” You teased, squinting in to the dark, the scattered stars really just looking like paint splatters to you.

“Because that’s the little dipper.” He laughed, moving his index finger slightly to the right.

“Oh.”

Johnny leaned back into your space, smiling at you look of concentration quickly falling as you gave up.

“Where’s the North Star?” You asked turning to face him, but sucking in a harsh breath when you found your nose just centimeters from his.

Johnny lowered his voice, whispering and pointing without even turning away, “Right there, it’s the tail of the little dipper.”

It took more effort than you thought to pull away, eyes searching for it.

He leaned back, resting his body weight on his hands. “See it? It’s the brightest one.”

“No,” You pouted scooting forward, as if that would help you see it. “Oh, wait! I see it!”

Johnny couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he saw your face light up.

“Wow.” Suddenly your tone turned more mellow, still in awe. “I’ve always wanted to find the North Star.”

Johnny’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Why?”

“Well you know. They say if you get lost, just follow the North Star home.” You turned to face him, eyes sparkling with excitement, but the sound of your voice had gone quiet, almost somber. The smile on your face faded into a sad smile as you all but whispered your next words. “Now I can go home.”

Johnny frowned next to you, not liking the sudden turn in mood. He sat up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you against his chest.

“What makes you think that you’re not home right now?” He mumbled on the top of your head, staring straight out in the dark.

“I don’t know. I can just feel it, you know? Like I’m just constantly uneasy.” You sighed, digging your face into his jacket. “I think I’ll be able to tell when I get there.”

There was something in Johnny’s chest that suddenly ached, and he felt a sharp drop in his stomach at the thought.

“Maybe you’ll only ever know once you’ve left home.” He muttered, “Then you’ll know that this is actually what it feels like, and it’s so much worse when you leave.”

You stilled against him for a moment before relaxing, mulling over the thought. “That’s so sad though. Why do we only know we’re happy once we’re sad?”

Johnny shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Why does God make us hurt to only to help us heal?”

The sound of the wind passing through trees was the only thing that comforted you at the thought.

“I don’t want to have to heal, I don’t want to hurt in the first place.” You whisper out, feeling the most vulnerable you had in a long time.

“I’ll never hurt you.” He rubbed at your arms soothingly, feeling a lump in the back of his throat, but he pushed it away not liking the unfamiliar feeling.

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

You let your eyes fall, enjoying just the silence and comfort of each other’s arms and minds.

You woke up wrapped in Johnny’s arms, although it was an unfamiliar feeling you welcomed it with open arms.

Lost in your thoughts for the time being you were suddenly reminded of the conversation you had a couple nights ago.

Was this home?

You had never felt so safe before and it scared you. But you weren’t one to run.

“Good morning.” Johnny mumbled out beside you, his morning voice raspy to the ear.

“Morning.” You whispered back, letting his arm flop over your waist.

“Do you like pancakes?” He asked, letting his eyes fall close again.

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah. Taeyong makes some bomb ass pancakes.”

You giggled, “Yeah, I like pancakes. Especially bomb ass pancakes.”

But he didn’t move and it was only after you tapped him questioningly did he speak up. “Do you think he’ll bring them up if I yell loud enough?”

You smacked his chest. “Stop it. We should go down.”

“In a bit.” He answered, nose buried deep in the crevice of your neck.

A few minutes later you heard the clinking of kitchen tools from downstairs and you stirred. “Johnny?”

“Hmmm...”

“Johnny. Let’s go.”

“Five more minutes.” He mumbled, but he let you out of his grasp anyways.

“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs.” You paused as you passed by the mirror, eyes tracing over the marks on your neck that Johnny had left the night before. You blushed, realizing that you didn’t have anything to cover it up with, but quickly moved on, attempting to find your shorts that were discarded in the frenzy of last night.

“Check under the desk.” Johnny said, sitting up and watching you.

Sure enough that’s where they were, although you weren’t really sure how they managed to get there.

You shrugged on the last of your clothes, turning to find Johnny doing the same. It took him less than three steps to get to you, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Let’s go.”

Taeyong was undoubtedly the closest of Johnny’s frat brothers to you. He had this really calming and sweet aura about him that just made you want to be friends.

“Good morning Y/N. Blueberry or chocolate?” He asked grinning as he took his eyes off the pan for a second.

“Blueberry please.” You slid onto the bar across from him. “Do you need any help?”

Johnny rubbed your lower back comfortingly, “No, you don’t want to get in his way. That’s when he loses his temper.” He whispered the last bit to you, but Taeyong obviously heard it, sending a sharp glare at him.

“Only when there are incompetent people in my kitchen.” Taeyong muttered back.

Johnny ignored the comment, shaking his head at you, “I’ll have chocolate.”

“You’ll get what you get.” Taeyong piped at him, still not over Johnny’s teasing, who grinned in response.

Both of them knew that Johnny was getting chocolate, Taeyong was really bad at being mean.

“Where’s the others?” Johnny asked, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“At school, as they should be because they are college students.” Taeyong answered, sliding a plate towards you. “Enjoy.”

You thanked him and bit into a piece, almost moaning at the taste. “Damn, Johnny told me they were good but I didn’t think it would be this good.”

Johnny swiped a piece from your plate. “What are you talking about? I told you he made bomb ass pancakes.”

Taeyong slid a plate towards Johnny.

His grin widened. “Thank you. You’re my favorite Taeyong ever.”

“I’m the only Taeyong you know.” He put his hands on his hips. “I should be the favorite.”

Johnny sent a wink in his direction before stabbing a piece.

“So I was thinking, that little bakery next to the park, do you wanna go? They just opened and I’ve been dying to try it.” Johnny asked around a mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” You felt your stomach flutter, you were sure whether it was the pancakes or Johnny, but you had a pretty good guess.

“Sweet, we can swing by your place first if you want to get a change of clothes or something.”

You nodded, “Yeah, sounds good.”

“I’m glad that sounds good.” He teased you with a smile.

“Sorry, but it just sounds good. What else do you want me to say?” You pushed back, opting to add another piece into your mouth.

“I don’t know, maybe-”

“Okay, sorry to interrupt your little flirt fest, but can you start that after I leave?” Taeyong asked, making a few pancakes for himself.

“Sorry.” You giggled, sending him a genuine apologetic look.

“I’m not sorry.” Johnny said, shrugging.

You smacked him lightly.

“I’ll take away pancake privileges for a month.” Taeyong quipped, focusing on flipping the pancake.

“Sorry.” Johnny mumbled out under his breath, not one to admit defeat easily.

You laughed at the sight of a pouty Johnny, enjoying the view for the time being.

Waiting for Johnny had become a routine, but honestly you didn’t really mind it. Hanging out on the couch, you had met and befriended quite a few of his frat brothers.

Currently you were sprawled out on the couch with Jungwoo, who was retelling a very interesting story about his trip to the grocery store last week that involved a cereal box and a banana. Although it was a bit of a reach, you nodded and smiled at the right times, not really following the order of events, or really the importance of them.

“What does the fact that you were wearing- and I quote - ‘an incredibly sick pair of joggers’ have anything to do with your story?” You asked, tilting your head in teasing confusion.

“Oh, it doesn’t. I just thought you should know.” He replied matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right. And I’m so better off now that I know.” You taunted him, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Jungwoo shot you an annoyed, and yet hurt look, before finishing his story. “And that’s how Johnny found out he was allergic to shellfish.”

“Okay. What the fuck? I’m literally so confused.” You cut him off before he could recount his story again. “I don’t really need to hear it again though. Thanks.”

He whined before laying his legs over yours, giving up.

For a few moments, things were quiet as you checked the time. It had already been thirty minutes, where was he?

You rolled your head to the side, finally focusing on the whiteboard that had what scribbles of writing over it.

“What’s the tally for?” You asked, scrunching your nose at the whiteboard that was situated on the far wall of the room.

“Hmmm? The tally?” Jungwoo glanced around looking slightly nervous which had you even more curious. “It’s just a game.”

“Game? What game?” You laughed turning back to see the strikes adorning the board. “It looks like Johnny’s winning.”

“Uhh...” Again with the nervous glances.

You giggled, “You’re losing, aren’t you?” The spot under his name had the fewest tallies and you figured that’s why he was being so shy about it.

Jaehyun entered the room, seemingly in a very important conversation by the way that he was speaking animatedly.

“The game’s over on Friday and Johnny’s gonna win.”

“That’s so stupid. He hasn’t bagged any since Y/N, how is he still gonna win?” Yuta complained all but scowling at the floor, neither of them had yet to notice your presence.

You frowned at the mention of your name, not liking the term ‘bagging’ to be in such close proximity with your name.

“Oh, Mark has a new strike, looks like he finally got Claire into bed.” Yuta continued snorting, “Took him long enough.”

“Wait, what the fuck? How the hell did Taeyong get two strikes?” Jaehyun, squinted at the board.

Yuta snorted, “He had a threesome last night. Can you believe it? This close to the end? It’s like he’s actually trying to compete now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You muttered, effectively catching their attention.

“Y/N.” Jaehyun breathed out, eyes wide and darting between you and Jungwoo who was obviously trying to get them to stop talking. “Hey... what’s up? When did you get here?”

“Ummm.... no. What the fuck is going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun cocked his head, doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t panicking.

“No, I don’t want your bullshit. Just tell me what this game is.” You were using anger to hide your fear. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your head, a throbbing sensation that gave way to a sinking feeling of realization.

At that moment, when his eyes finally met yours. Not Jaehyun’s, not Yuta’s, but Johnny’s as he walked in the room with that fucking stupid smile you felt your last will got out the window. It was at that moment that everything came crashing down.

“Y/N, please can’t we just talk?” Johnny chased after you, begging you to turn around.

“You promised.”

Johnny’s heart dropped at your words, and his chest started closing in in fear. The burning feeling in his throat had him choking, panicking in belated realization.

It wasn’t just the words that you said, it was the way that you said it. So defeated, so broken. So betrayed.

“You promised that you wouldn’t hurt me. Do you remember that? Did you even mean that?” You felt the tears brimming, and you fought the best you could to keep them down. But your wobbling voice let him know.

“Of course I meant it.” He answered breathlessly. “You know me, I don’t say things that I don’t mean.”

“Do I? Do I know you?” You huffed out. “Because I really thought you were someone different.”

“No, I- I’m still me. I’m still Johnny. I just...”

“You just what? You just lied about our entire relationship? If it was even that, because I was just another tally to you wasn’t I? Just another tally on a stupid whiteboard for a stupid game.”

You choked back the tears that were burning in your throat, not bothering to wipe at the ones that managed to escape.

“You know what hurts the most? I actually thought you liked me. I actually thought that you meant all those things that you said to me.”

“I did mean it. I meant every single word, and I still do. Nothing was a lie, my feelings were real. Please just listen to me, I can explain.” He stepped closer, but you took a step back, keeping the distance.

“Explain what? I already heard everything for myself. What are you gonna say, that Jaehyun and Yuta were lying? Hmmm? That it wasn’t a game? That that’s not the reason that you approached me?”

“I...” He couldn’t find any words, because you were right. Every single word that you said was right. He struggled to catch his breath, panicking. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

“I love you. I need you. I can’t- I can’t imagine life without you.”

“That’s not enough.” You clenched your jaw, face going slack. It was as if you were losing the will to even be heartbroken over this.

“Please, I-I’ll do anything, what do you want me to do?” He begged, eye brows nearly touching as they furrowed.

“I don’t want anything from you, just stay away from me.” You mumbled out, avoiding his eyes.

“Baby, please.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m not yours, I never was.” You snapped at him, backing away.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled under his breath and he wasn’t sure if it was meant for you or himself.

“So I’m kinda going rogue here. I know you already hate me, but try not to hate me anymore than you already do.”

Johnny didn’t look anywhere except for you.

The professor seemed to humor him, allowing one of his favorite students to continue with an amused smile on his face.

You on the other hand did not.

You stared at Johnny with a straight face, trying your best to not look flustered.

“The whole point of this assignment was to find someone that changed our lives. But my partner and I struggled to find someone. It’s not that we didn’t have great people around us, its not even that we don’t have people that we admired. It was because no one we came up with really seemed genuine to us. But I found someone. I finally found someone that I could trust, that I let in. But I did something really stupid and fucked it up- excuse my language.”

You watched him stand behind the podium, looking smaller than he ever did.

“You know, before I met you I didn’t think that my life needed changing. I thought I was doing just fine. But then I realized that I wasn’t. I was struggling to even feel normal, to feel like I was living for something. Y/N you helped me find home. Remember when I said that you only understand that you were already home until you lose it? Well I feel it now. And it feels like shit.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, a feeling in the back of your throat burning.

“Y/N. You’re the person who changed my life. And I don’t even deserve that. But I’m here, standing in front of you like a fool because I’m whining about losing the best thing that ever happened to me.”

For a moment you thought he was done, because the silence was deafening.

“Even if you sill hate me after this, I want you to know that you mean more to me than anything else. You are the person that changed my life. You are my person, and I want so badly to be yours.”

There was a beat of silence as he ended abruptly, taking a seat on the other side of the room, eyes still locked on you.

Your professor stood up with a clap. “Well, thank you Johnny for that... interesting presentation.” A wide smile was still on his face despite his word choice. “I guess we should end on that then. Second batch of presentations is on Friday, please be prepared.”

The students of your class stood, shuffling out the exit, voices murmuring to each other.

You sat on the bench outside your lecture hall, watching as Johnny made his way nervously to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You told him as he approached you, bottom lip wobbling against your will. Eventually you broke. “But you’re my idiot.”

Johnny felt a drop of relief in his stomach as he felt like his heart would burst.

“You’ve totally botched our presentation by the way. If we fail it it’s on you.” You shoved him away teasingly.

Johnny grinned, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“Yeah? Well, I think we did better than you think. I think that things are gonna turn out just fine.”

(sorry, i was supposed to write a full angst, but i couldn’t help myself.)

391 notes · View notes

pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

Text

htryds: Retirement

September X780

He knew the tea was a trap. Or at the very least, that there were strings attached, because Porlyusica had been uncharacteristically vague about why she wanted him to come, but really, he should have seen this coming.

“I’m retiring.”

Acnologia set his tea down slowly. “Didn’t you already retire?” he asked tiredly.

Porlyusica huffed. “I tried to, but those fools of Makarov’s always needed me for something, be it some injury or magic ailment. As Magnolia doesn’t have a competent doctor of its own, I begrudgingly continued as a part-time physician for Fairy Tail. I never intended for this to last, however.”

“What, have you been training an apprentice all this time?” he asked, but it was more of a teasing statement. “I didn’t picture you as the type.”

Her scowl was expected. “Of course not. I don’t have the patience to train some human in my ways. But I don’t have to, now that you’re here.”

The words registered slowly, but he saw where she was going all the same. “No.”

“Acnologia,” Porlyusica scolded. “I know you don’t have the equipment I do, but beyond being a practitioner of healing magic, you are knowledgeable in medicine and ailment, despite pretending not to be.”

“I’m not pretending about anything. I haven’t practiced medicine in…” Shit, how long had it been? It was the 700s now, and it had been the 300s… “—in four hundred years!” It had been strange enough reawakening his healing magic, but that was only a matter of what amounted to muscle memory. Still, the nature of healing magic was simple; it was good for cleaning and closing wounds faster than the body could do on its own—but it only mimicked the body. It wasn’t medicine, or the study thereof. That was much more complicated. Porlyusica knew this. So, when he said he was rusty, he meant it. What little that he’s reviewed through readings barely scratched the surface of it.

Porlyusica could not produce magic, but she could still attempt murder with her eyes. “You’ll learn,” she countered, and it might as well have been an order.

Acnologia was in between a boulder and a canyon. She was persistent, but she was also out of her mind if the woman thought that he magically acquired people skills better than her own. (They were both hopeless.) Not to mention, for the first time in centuries, he was busy. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I can’t do anything full time either. Sure, I help out where I can, but between the emergency S-Class jobs and the kids, I don’t have that kind of time to dedicate. Besides, with my sleep schedule the way it is, somebody is going to die—and I tried re-syncing to a human sleep schedule, believe me: it didn’t work.” It took longer for dragons to reach the resting heartrate of deep sleep, and they stayed in it far longer. Toying with that cycle, back when he was afraid someone was going to totter off of a cliff or starve to death had been…possible, but stressful.

His (very logical) reasons didn’t persuade her. “And you think I dedicate my life for these reckless humans? I’m not asking you to change careers—just to let me retire in peace.”

“Porlyusica,” he argued. “I honestly don’t know as much as you do. Besides, I’m not even licensed anymore.”

He was fine playing medic and healing wounds, but there was something terrifying about truly being a doctor again. He… He couldn’t. Shouldn’t, even.

“If you have questions, ask. I’d much rather deal with you than some human brat,” she countered easily. “And you were licensed, so it wouldn’t be an issue stepping back up.”

“Yes, I was,” he pressed, emphasizing the past tense of it. “Four hundred years ago! Medicine advanced leaps and bounds since then. Not to mention everything I’ve forgotten.”

“Just as much as it devolved. Healing magic isn’t even practiced anymore. It died with dragons, gods, and prideful humans. Time doesn’t matter that much. It’s fleeting anyway.”

Acnologia clenched his teeth, trying not to stare at his palm. Saying he was “licensed” at all was a stretch. Back in the Minstrel region of a few centuries ago, doctors wore a badge—a tattoo on their left palm. It was something that had to be received from another individual with the brand, and nobody knew how the tradition started. He wasn’t even sure if people did that anymore, down there. The title came with the promise to do no harm and to help whenever possible; it was a creed he threw away when he chose violence. It was just as well that when the dragonization process transformed his body from the inside out, it removed that mark along with all of his old scars.

“Porlyusica, please. I get that you want to retire, but I don’t know what you expect from me.”

“To keep living,” she snapped. There was a note of desperation in her voice that Porlyusica rarely let show, so Acnologia wisely shut his mouth. “To be there. Acnologia, you know I’m aging. Quickly, even. I don’t know how much longer this body will last. This world may not be mine, and these humans aren’t my people, but I’m not so callous that I would abandon those sentimental fools that took me in.” Porlyusica sucked in a breath, swiftly turning so she was no longer facing him. “You’re still young. You’re understanding them faster than I ever could. You would be better for them.”

Damn. Acnologia wasn’t sure what he could possibly say to that. He…understood where she was coming from. It was hard enough to manage yourself when everything around you was a new and difficult concept to grasp. Honestly, he was amazed by the fact that he was interacting with people at all—with some understanding, even. Though Porlyusica gave him too much credit in that matter; he never would have managed it without the kids. Turned out, suddenly caring for time-displaced dragon slayer children presented the opportunity to learn things fast. Sometimes, his head was still spinning.

Not that it made him any more comfortable with the idea that Porlyusica presented. However, it was…true, what she said, about lifespans. Acnologia now aged like a dragon, like Porlyusica now aged as a human. Though he wouldn’t label her as about to kick the bucket, no matter how she spoke. It was also true that he was technically around everyone more often; if he was there, he would deal with a situation before somebody had to go get Porlyusica. He was begrudgingly more efficient, and Acnologia never minded until the notion that he really was the first line of medical defense slammed into it.

“Fine,” he relented softly. “But they’ll still have to bother you first in the winter.”

Porlyusica looked far too smug as she finished off her tea.

He…had a lot of reading to do. Acnologia focused on that, and not the unsettling realization that this was somehow…official now. Though, maybe he should be trying to give himself some more credit; if a killer could be trusted to raise kids, then maybe this wasn’t all that different.

---

One of the reasons I can’t hate the anime is that the bit they added about Acno being a doctor pre-war is just so golden for juicy contrasts and conflicts of character. Also, I know this is not a Frosch piece like I thought, but inspiration came to finish this so at least y’all get something this week.

#fairy tail #htryds #htryds microshot #acnologia #porlyusica #acno is trying his best #self-image is still poor though #but it makes the kids upset so he's trying #FT has such an influx of medics #porlyusica is absolutely taking advantage of this

79 notes · View notes

petite-ely · 3 years

Text

Afraid // JJ Maybank

Seven- Mommy Issues

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: mommy issues, mother abandonment, anger, maybe some mistakes, tell me if I missed anything

Description: y/n has always wanted answers about her mother, but the truth seems more harsh than what she had in mind.

A/n : hello, hello friends. Sorry for not updating sooner. I had absolutely no inspiration, lol. Anyways, hope you enjoyyyy! :) (also I know the gif is terrible quality but I really wanted to put this clip and I couldn’t find any cleaner option to make a gif)

Previously

Afraid Masterlist

Song recommendation

Gif made by me!

As a child, y/n never realized how her family was different than the others. A lot of kids on the cut had single parents, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Her mom had left when she was only three, to go pursue her dream job in Colorado. It wasn’t a bad thing in the girl’s eyes. It didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything.

As she blossomed into adolescence, y/n finally understood how unconventional her family was. She heard the other girls at her school talk about their mothers. About the cakes they made or the precious moments they spent together. Mother-daughter bonding moments. She had to admit it she felt jealous. Or maybe was it envious?

She had lived all her life without a mother to kiss her scraped knees or braid her hair before going to sleep. And she would have given anything to experience it, even for one single night.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her brother or her father, far from it, she adored them. They were both so precious to her. Still, she felt as if something was missing from her. Or more like someone.

She didn’t remember her mother, she was so young at the time, but she cherished the stories her father had told her. She fed her imagination on these stories. Making up fake memories where her mother was still there. In her heart it was all real. Reality was bitter compared to the sweet comfort of her imagination.

By the time she was 12, she’d heard the famous story enough to know it by heart, each word of the letter engraved into her head. She begged her father again and again. She wanted more stories, even the smallest anecdotes, she wanted to hear them all. Anything to improve the sketch, constantly redrawn, of the woman she didn’t remember. The woman she couldn’t really call a mother.

She knew the story by heart and yet it felt incomplete. She’d heard enough fairytales and read enough books to know when a story was complete. This one wasn’t.

And she was right.

A week after the twins’s 13th birthday, their dad gathered them around the kitchen table. He wanted to talk. It was very important. Y/n had to admit, this was quite strange, as her father was never the one to bring up important issues. In front of him was placed an envelope, yellowed with the years.

The girl knew this envelope all too well. Every scratch, every little bump, she could almost feel them on the tip of her fingers. It was her mother’s letter. This time, when he pulled out the folded pages, a third paper came out. The missing part.

Big John didn’t say anything, only slid the pearl white sheet to the twins. And though no words came out of his mouth, a million could be seen in his gaze. He wore an unfamiliar expression on his face. It was mix of sadness, fear and regrets. It was the expression of a man who only wanted to protect his children from being hurt.

The missing paper read as so:

“This is my dream, John.

And I know you might think there’s a way for us to fix this, but there isn’t. This time you can’t fix it.

When I got pregnant with the kids, I was so scared. And when I told you, I saw this glimmer in your eyes. This flame suddenly being lit inside of you. You were so excited to have your first child and it was twins! You seemed so happy. It was beautiful.

Then I thought that maybe we could do this, maybe I could be a mother. I had you, so everything would be fine. My friends kept talking about this amazing connection that felt with their babies when they were carrying them. But I never felt it with the twins.

And I thought that maybe once I held them in my arms I would finally feel it. That motherly connection. It never came. And I tried, John. I tried so hard. But I just can’t.

I do love them, I love them so much, but not the way you do. Not the way a parent loves their child It can’t do it, I’m sorry. I wasn’t meant to be a mother. Life is cruel that way sometimes.

If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you were meant for this. I can see it in the way you look at them. You can do this, John. I know.

Be the parent I will never be able to be.”

Y/n’s curious eyes scanned the paper excitedly. Her face showed a variety of emotions in the span of a few minutes. First, excitement and joy, then, confusion and finally, anger. The tip of her ears burned red, her hand shaking beneath the table.

John B. placed the paper on the table, a loud sigh escaping his lips. Though, compared to his sister, he seemed relatively calm.

Y/n couldn’t contain it anymore. She stormed out of the house, her feet shoeless and her shoulders bare. She had no idea where she was going, but she ran.

It didn’t matter. As long as she was going somewhere. As long as she was moving and running, then she wouldn’t have to think. And if she was thinking, then her mind would take her to a bad place. She didn’t want to go there. So she ran.

The Routledges were never reputed to be angry people, much less violent. They were generally very calm, maybe a bit arrogant, but always composed. Of course, when a Routledge was after something, they would do anything in order to obtain it.

But y/n was one of the exception. She was the first Routledge woman in nearly 150 years. For generations, every Routledge man had sons, who had sons, who had sons until her father. He had a son and a daughter.

She wasn’t an angry person or mean in any way. On the contrary, she was kind and gentle. But compared to her brother and her dad, she felt emotions deeply.

And maybe it was her mother’s side and not the Routledge in her. It was so intense, sometimes. Almost blinding, at some moments. It was like the emotions took over her. It didn’t happen very often but it felt like she didn’t control her body anymore.

When she finally came back to her senses, y/n was standing on an empty beach. She hadn’t realized how far she’d gotten until she felt the warm sand under her feet. A cold breeze wrapped itself around her shoulders. She was so far from home. And so alone.

She walked to the ocean, letting her toes dip gently into the water. The water was cold but calming. Her anger slowly disappeared with each breath she took, until finally she could see everything clearly again.

Y/n turned away. She thought of going back home, when a wave of emotions hit her. She fell to the ground. It was like the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

Her chest burned, she felt like she had swallowed fire. Her shoulders shook and loud sobs escaped her lips. She dug her hands into the sand, trying to ground herself. It didn’t stop her tears from crashing onto her shirt.

A shadow appeared in front of her and she recognized its shape in a matter of seconds. It could only be one person.

“Are you hear to laugh at me?” She said through tears.

“No, not this time,” said John B. He sat down beside her, his eyes looking into hers. “Oh, y/n.” He wiped the tears off of her face

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “It’s just that, that,” he placed his arm around her shoulder, she took a deep breath. “Part of me always thought that she would come back.”

“That she’d come stay with us and finally be our mom. But she’s never coming back, ever,” her tone was almost accusing. “I lost so much time making up scenarios for her and she doesn’t even love us.”

“You know that’s not true,” reasoned John.

“Yeah, but it feels like it.”

“We don’t need her anyway,” stated the boy. “We’ve got dad, surfing, plenty of fish and well, each other. It’s not that bad is it?”

“No, you’re right.” She looked at him. “I just feel like I’m missing out on something. Like I’m,” she paused, looking for the right word, “incomplete.”

“I get it. If the roles were reversed and dad wasn’t there, I guess I would feel that way too,” confided her brother. “But don’t give her this much power. She doesn’t get to make you feel this way. You’re whole on your own, y/n/n.”

“Thank you, bird.” She slid her arm around his shoulder, letting her head rest on top of it. “You know, you can be an amazing brother sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Hey, bird?” “Yeah?”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“You always come here when you wanna be dramatic.”

“I do not!”

“You so do!”

And slowly, the imaginary memories fell apart and disappeared. Y/n didn’t need them anymore. She’d be better in the real world.

Taglist

@kaelyn-lobrutto24 @poguestyle17 @im-a-stranger-thing @lasnaro @thoughtsofthestars @briandaflores19 @lunaposey @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @kitty084 @coloradogirl07 @ponyboys-sunsets @chaoticbisous @p0gue420 @sloaneemily @babygal-babygal @itsagurl @mendesmaybank

If you wanna be added or removed or if I forgot you, tell me and it’ll be modified!

266 notes · View notes

nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

112 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

On My Hands

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Prompts: 24. Let me go, 28. They don’t need to know, 50. I didn’t know where else to go. Prompts are from This List

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Alright when I opened the word doc to write a fic inspired by This Post I was expecting to write something steamy and like??? Fun??? But I ended up with all this angst instead because this story took on a life of its own. Either way, enjoy some Nestor smut. Love y’all!

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @masterlistforimagines @lakamaa12 @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @frattsparty (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

There was a quiet knocking on your door. You glanced down at the time on your phone and your brows furrowed. Nothing good could come of someone showing up on your doorstep so late at night. With a deep sigh you tossed the blanket off of you and to the other end of the couch as you made your way towards the front door. Peaking out from the curtain, you saw Nestor standing on your front step. You sighed—you should’ve known.

You turned the lock and pulled the door open slightly, just enough for you to look out at him. Your lips turned down into a slight frown as you took in the state of him. That was all it took for you to know why he made his way to you.

“It’s late, Nestor,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he sounded exhausted, and it made you want to invite him in so you could take care of him.

But you knew better. Bracing yourself against the doorframe, “What’re you doing here?” you wanted to add that he looked like he belonged in a hospital instead of on your front step, but you refrained.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I don’t think that you’re allowed to be here anymore, Nes.”

“They don’t have to know,” his tone was pleading.

You shook your head slightly, “Like they won’t find out.”

He could see it in your eyes that you were getting ready to shut the door on him. He reached forward and rested his palm against it, providing just enough resistance to get you to look at him, “Please.”

You knew you were kidding yourself thinking that you would actually turn him away. Even if he had shown up on your doorstep completely fine and in good spirits, you would’ve let him in. But something about him showing up tired, defeated, and bloody made all of your resistance fade away instantly. You shouldn’t have been so ready to invite that kind of trouble back into your house, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You opened the door all the way, waving for him to come in. He walked past you and you shut and locked the door behind him before turning to get a better look at him in the light of your home. His face and neck were streaked with blood, knuckles busted open from whatever fight he must’ve gotten into before he came to you. It was apparent in his eyes that he was there to forget about the world outside of you, and you were content to give him that even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“Should I even ask?” you sighed as you thumbed away a small smear of blood from underneath his eye.

He shook his head as he ran his hands up your sides, sliding them underneath the thin fabric of the oversized shirt that was passing for your pajamas. His hands felt rough against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked up the sensation of it. You never knew when it was going to be the last time, when he was going to stop coming back for more.

You opened your eyes to see Nestor staring intently at you. Despite the tiredness and defeat that you were sure he was feeling, there was something else present in his features as well. It was the same thing that led him back to you over and over again.

“What am I gonna do with you, Nestor?” your voice was soft, but the way you likely raked your nails along the back of his neck let him know the question wasn’t completely innocent.

He didn’t answer your question as he pulled you close and kissed you. His lips attached themselves to yours and you let it happen, melting against him like you had countless times before. His hands slid all over your body as though he didn’t already have ever curve memorized like the back of his hand. He didn’t take his lips off of yours as he walked you backwards towards your couch, slipping off his shoes as he went.

Muscle memory took over as you pushed his holsters down off his shoulders, hands immediately making their way to the buttons of his shirt. He moaned quietly as he slid his hands along the curve of your ass, squeezing it tight as he pulled you closer to him. You nipped lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled the shirt down off his shoulders and slid it off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. Your fingers traced over his chest, feeling every scratch, scab, and smear of dried blood that decorated his torso along with the ink that had been there for years and would remain long after the blood was washed away.

He pulled the shirt off over your head, tossing it aside before his hands started roaming all over the freshly exposed skin he now had access to. You moaned as his hands continued to graze over your skin, hardly able to concentrate on the task of undoing his belt. Once he felt you undo the buckle, he finished undoing his pants and pushing them to the floor, stepping out of them as you slid your tongue along his bottom lip.

You felt the backs of your legs press flush against the base of your couch and as much as you wanted to give in and let him push you back onto it, you didn’t. You placed one hand on each of his shoulders and maneuvered so he was the one who was falling back onto the couch. It caught him off-guard, and you saw the shift in his breathing as you situated yourself on top of him, straddling him.

You pressed your lips back to his and he wrapped his arms tightly around your middle. You slowly began to grind your hips against him and a small moan escaped him as he moved his lips against yours. One of his hands snaked up and came to rest on the back of your neck, fingertips pressing hard into your skin as you moved against him.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he struggled to catch his breath. The hand on the back of your neck came to rest on your cheek and you placed your hand over it. The blood on his knuckles felt tacky against your fingertips, not having completely dried. You could feel it on the pads of your fingers as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaving a fresh set of smudged red prints on his skin as you leveraged your weight against him.

You felt him lifting his hips up off the couch cushion and you took that moment to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. You lifted your hips off of him when you felt him sliding his boxer-briefs down his legs, your hands immediately dropping to graze along his thighs. The light sensation of your nails against him caused him to shudder and moan, making you smile as you kept your lips locked to his. He gripped tightly onto your hips like you were the only thing that was keeping him grounded.

You carefully wrapped your hand around him and he instantly dropped his head back, letting out a moan. You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him tremble underneath your touch, listened to the quiet curses that fell from his lips as you slid your hand up and down his length.

He managed to tap back into reality long enough to slide his hands down your hips just enough so that he could tangle his fingers in the sparse fabric of your underwear. It took hardly any effort at all for him to rip them clean off of you, eliciting a yelp from you despite the fact that you knew it was coming.

He leaned in and kissed along your neck, feeling your body go a little lax as he did so. He lifted your hips and positioned himself so that he could slowly slide into you, wanting to feel the way your nails set into his shoulder blades and hear the way your breath shook as he did. You pressed the side of your head against his as you closed your eyes and basked in the way that he felt inside of you.

Your hands rested on either side of his neck, chests pressed flush against each other’s as you began to move against him. His teeth grazed against the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder and you whimpered quietly. You pulled back slightly so you could look in his eyes, trailing your fingers down his cheeks despite the fact that you were collecting his blood in the divots of your fingerprints.

He pulled you close so he could kiss you again, his fingers gripping tighter onto your hips and giving him better control of how you moved. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip, letting it go with a slight pop as he lifted you and brought you back down onto him again.

“Fuck, Nestor,” your palms rested flat against his chest as he repeated the motion.

It didn’t take very long for you to come undone—it never did when it was with him. His eyes shut tight and his teeth sank into the soft skin of your shoulder as he felt you contracting around him. One hand cradled the back of his head while the other dug into his shoulder, desperately trying to keep you tethered to him in any way possible.

He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finished inside you. he clung tightly to you for a minute, waiting for his brain to slow down. When his racing mind finally began to slow, he peeled himself off of you, leaning back against the back of the couch.

His eyes traveled all over you, taking in every detail. He was admiring you, the same way he always did, but there was something more to it this time. You glanced down at yourself and instantly noticed the rusty red patches on your chest, the sweat and close contact having made his stains yours as well. He reached forward, wiping at your neck and you assumed that he was rubbing off the slight traces of blood he’d left behind there, too.

You carefully lifted yourself off of him before leaning and grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. You used it to wipe at your own neck and chest before using it to wipe away the violence of the day that was left on him as well. You tenderly cleaned off his face the best that you could, trying not to focus on the way that he was looking at you. You wiped off the knuckles on each of his hands, letting out a small sigh as you traced the pad of your thumb over them once they were clean. These days you only ever saw him when he was beaten and bloody.

Your hands softly came to rest on either side of his neck, and you tried to ignore the tightness building in your chest, “You gotta stop, Nes.”

His hands ran up and down your sides as he tried to look anywhere but into your eyes, “It’s work, you know how it—”

“No,” you cut him off but your voice was still gentle. You knew that he was going to try and turn this conversation into something that it wasn’t and you couldn’t let that happen, “This,” you motioned back and forth between the two of you, “You gotta stop doing this—showing up here in the middle of the night, all bloody and sad and looking for something to get lost in.”

“But I know you’ll let me in.”

“And that’s fucked up,” you wanted to sound angry but really you were just tired, “I can’t say no to you, Nestor. I’ll always open the door for you, let you in, clean you up, make you forget about whatever you had to do for a little while. I’ll always let your blood be on my hands. And I hate that,” you rested your forehead against his with a defeated sigh.

“You’re the only person that takes me in,” you could feel his breath bristle against your skin as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“But I can’t keep doing it. I can’t keep doing this,” you hated saying it but you knew that you had to—this all should’ve been over a long time ago.

“Please—”

“You need to let me go,” your voice was nothing but a shaky whisper as you forced the words out.

Neither of you said anything more for a few minutes, just sitting there in silence. You could feel it in his body language that he understood what this all meant, and he was trying to soak up whatever time he had left with you. All the minutes he had with you were stolen, what was a few more before he left? You lightly trailed your fingers along the patterns of his braids as he slid his hands up and down your back.

Finally, he shifted so that he could stand up and start getting dressed again. While he was doing that you went and grabbed a clean shirt to wear to bed, opting to throw the one you’d had on in the trash, not wanting to hold onto the memories if you could help it.

You followed him to the door, leaning against it as he stood on your front steps. You’d never seen Nestor look so small. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There were a million things that he wanted to say, you could see it in his eyes, but he couldn’t make himself say them. He placed one last tender kiss to your lips before turning and heading back towards his car. He looked back at you once, with a small, sad smile on his face before getting back into his car and driving off. You waited until the taillights were out of sigh before finally forcing yourself to go back inside.

You shut off all the lights as you made your way through the house. Making a stop in your bathroom, you turned the light on and looked in the mirror, making sure that there were no stains left that you could see. You were rewarded with a clean slate, the only things left behind were the dark marks left by Nestor’s lips and teeth. You gingerly traced your fingers over them before turning the hot water on in the sink. Putting soap on your hands, you began to slowly and methodically scrub them underneath the hot water, watching as the last of the blood diluted in the soapy water and swirled down the drain. You let out a deep sigh when the water ran clear once more, having washed away what little you had left to show for all that you’d gone through with Nestor.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #drabblesmc #fanficg

179 notes · View notes

chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

t-shirt

Day 8, Story #1 is by @accio-broom

Title: t-shirt Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Ron Weasley / Hermione Granger Prompt: Cuddling Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None

In the morning when you wake up, I like to believe you are thinking of me And when the sun comes through your window, I like to believe you’ve been dreaming of me.

Hermione Granger isn’t the kind of girl who struggles to get out of bed, especially when there are pressing Head Girl duties to attend to. Her to-do list is as long as her arm, she has five essays to write and a whole raft of other bits and bobs she needs to see to.

But right now, with the sun peeking through the edges of the heavy curtains surrounding her four-poster bed, she wants to bask in the aftermath of her dream just a little longer. Even as her dorm mates start to clatter around the room, getting ready for the day, she snuggles deeper under her duvet and shuts her eyes, trying her best to get back to her own little world.

Is Ron doing exactly the same thing right now? He loves his bed, and always complains when she forces him out of it earlier than he wants. Is he having the same lovely dreams as her? Probably not, he’s been away on an extremely secretive training mission for the past five days, and he isn’t a fan of sleeping on the floor. Still, she likes to think that even the memory of her has been keeping him warm at night, even if he isn’t comfortable wherever he is.

Dreaming.

Her dreams last night were amazing.

They were in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across the comfiest sofa next to the fire. He’d untucked her blouse, and one of his hands was under the white material, massaging her bra-clad breasts whilst he buried the other somewhere underneath her school skirt. He was only wearing his plaid pyjama bottoms, which were doing nothing to hide his growing excitement, and the faded orange Cannon’s t-shirt he often wore to sleep.

She loves that top. It’s threadbare and far too small for him, accentuating his muscles, and exposing patches of his skin. She likes to wind her fingers through the holes, count the freckles she can see as they explore each other’s bodies. Dream Hermione couldn’t get enough of Ron’s skin; she licked and sucked at his neck while her hips lifted to press against his, grounding into his erection and causing the delightful friction she can never get enough of.

Despite their public position, there had been no panicking about being caught or interrupted. She was consumed in Ron, and he in her. The most perfect dream.

But it was all a dream. Hermione is still at school and Ron is in the Auror Academy, and they are facing months of separation. If he does well in his mission, he’ll pass his assessments and move on to the next stage. There will be no passionate make-out sessions, heavy petting, or sex anywhere until her Easter holidays at the earliest, and it definitely won’t be happening at school.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping.

With a heavy huff, she rolls onto her back and reaches under the mattress for the pristine parchment she has hidden there.

Over the years she’s known Ron, she could safely say that he was rubbish at writing to her. Summer breaks and Christmas holidays passed without a single word from him. But their newly fledged relationship, combined with her leaving in September, seemed to inspire a completely different side to the boy. If he was at home, she could now expect Pidwidgeon almost every morning, and each letter the owl delivered was soppier and longer than the last.

It is clear that Ron misses her.

She finds her wand under her pillow and pulls it out, tapping it against the paper before discarding it again. It begins to unfold, revealing a whole pile of messages from her beau, Ron’s familiar unintelligible scrawl decorating every inch of them. If she hadn’t spent the last six years deciphering his essays, she might have struggled to read them, but now she devours every word, the familiarity somewhat easing her home-sickness.

In his first letter he reminds her that she has to keep these letters secret, to hide them safely away from prying eyes. Ron doesn’t want anyone getting their hands on them, a panic magnified by the fact that Hermione is sharing a dorm with Ginny this year.

“Just imagine what they’d say,” Ron writes, and Hermione can picture the tips of his ears turning bright pink as his quill scratches against the parchment. “I don’t want them to take the piss.”

She’d written back, assuring him that his letters were safe and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of his ability to express his feelings. It’s the sign of a mature man.

Plus, she finds the confidence in his words sexy.

Letting her fingers trail over the paper, Hermione allows herself to get lost in the things he tells her. There’s the boring, mundane things, like how work is going and pleading with her not to get riled up over her latest marks (which ended up being perfect, of course). Next, come the promises and their plans for life post-Hogwarts. They want to get a flat together and go on a lovely holiday, where they can be alone for a whole week. Each sentence makes the smile on her face grow even bigger.

She takes her time, savouring how close to Ron they make her feel. She misses him like crazy. When she packed her trunk last September, she couldn’t even imagine how hard being apart from him would be. She’s an independent woman, a war heroine, in fact, but the yearning and pining for the guy drove her mental on occasion. She hates that she’s so reliant on him now.

Still, there are only a few more months left of her school year, and then they’ll be together forever.

The words run out, and Hermione lets out a heavy sigh. She sits up, tapping the paper again with her wand before stowing it safely back in its hiding spot. Feeling ready to face the day, she swings her legs out of bed and throws back her curtains, catching Ginny by surprise.

“Good morning!” Hermione smiles as she springs out of bed.

“Is it?” Ginny complains in return. “It’s snowing, which means no Quidditch.”

Hermione collects her things and heads for the shared bathroom with a chuckle, not letting the thought of bad weather affect her good mood.

⁂

When I saw you, everyone knew, I liked the effect that you had on my eyes But no one else heard the weight of your words or, felt the effect that they have on my mind.

Today’s Head Girl duties include monitoring the monthly visit to Hogsmeade. As a seventh-year, Hermione is allowed out of the castle anytime she wants, as long as she tells her Head of House. But the younger children always need supervising. Even with the war over, and the threat of Voldemort over, they still need to be cautious.

It’s her favourite part of the month. Being cooped up in the castle is so oppressive after a year spent camping in forests and hiding on cliff tops, so being out in the village helps clear her head.

If she gets five minutes, she may even be able to pick up Ron’s birthday present. There’s still a week until the big day, and chances are, he’ll probably still be away for work, but she wants to collect it now, just in case. She’ll wait until she sees him face to face before she gives it to him.

The late February snow is trying to melt, but the keen Scottish wind keeps the last of it lingering around. Hermione stands in her usual spot outside Honeydukes, watching as the students enter the shop then leave with their arms full of treats. Her parents would have an aneurysm if they saw the number of sugary treats devoured by the children in the school. Just the amount Ron consumes would set them off.

The thought of her boyfriend brings another smile to her lips, though it does nothing to stave off the cold. What she wants right now is to be cuddled up in Ron Weasley’s strong arms, a mug of Molly’s delicious hot chocolate and a roaring fire, and in that particular order, too.

A loud pop distracts her as someone apparates at the bottom of the lane. Over the heads of raucous students, a tall stranger appears, bundled up warm against the cold. She finds her gaze drawn to the newcomer, and she immediately recognises the bounce in his step as he walks past the rows of shops and hordes of students.

Hermione’s heart beats in an unsteady rhythm against her ribcage, her eyes widen, and the air disappears from her lungs. As the man draws closer, she catches a peek of red hair under a bright orange bobble hat and the long, thin nose that so often grazes against hers as they kiss. But what draws her to the man is his deep blue eyes, which she can see shining up the street from a million miles away.

It’s Ron.

With an uncharacteristic squeal, she takes off from her spot, trying her best to keep her balance in the ice as she throws herself at her boyfriend. Arms and legs lock around his long, gangly body with such force he’s almost bowled over. He compensates with long fingers clinging on to her as she buries her head against the crock of his neck. Her senses ignite as she takes a long breath, drinking in the smell of him—clean, with a hint of sandalwood and eucalyptus.

“What are you doing here?” she mumbles against his skin, her lips finding a path between his knitted scarf and stubble up his pale neck.

Ron moans at the assault from her kisses. “Missed you, is all.”

Hermione Granger has always been an intelligent girl, so it’s a surprise to her that a handful of words can turn her mind to mush. Right now, despite the fact she’s supposed to be on Head Girl duty, all she can focus on is the handsome man in her arms, and the fire blazes through her skin at their contact, even through layers of clothes.

Falling.

Forgetting that they’re in a public place, Hermione’s mouth seeks his, and they fall into a hungry kiss. Teeth clash, noses bump together, yet after weeks away, it’s the best thing in the world. The taste of peppermint and chocolate frogs spreads across her tongue, taking her straight back to lazy summer days spent snogging out by the lake at the Burrow.

Just as her lungs feel like they might explode, Ron tears his lips away from hers, and he flashes her one of his patented lop-sided grins. If she didn’t have her legs firmly wrapped around him, she might have gone weak at the knees.

With a chuckle, he teases, “Guess you missed me too?” All Hermione can do is nod in reply, overwhelmed by his sudden appearance. “Good! I missed you so fucking much. My mission finished early, but Harry is still away, and I didn’t know what else I could do to distract me from worrying about the results.”

“Oh, glad to see I’m your second option,” Hermione chides, although her massive smile does not falter. “How did you know I was here?”

“Ginny has been sending me your Head Girl schedule for months. Not that I’m keeping tabs on you,” he adds. “Just wanted to make the most of any opportunity I might have to see you.”

Impressed by his cunning plan, she presses one final hard kiss against his lips before removing herself from their reunion embrace. “Well, since it’s your birthday in a week, I guess I better start spoiling you.”

She tangles their fingers together before starting to lead him down the lane.

“But what about your duties?” he questions. “I didn’t think your slot finished until lunchtime?”

“It doesn’t, but I don’t think it will matter if I skive off a little earlier. Especially given the circumstances.”

With her back turned, she misses the look of glee that passes over Ron’s face before his eyes turn dark. She’s too absorbed in her mission to buy him all his favourite treats, cavities be damned, then curl up in a cosy corner by the fire in the Three Broomsticks so that she can do some serious catching up with him.

Their palms press together as they walk, filling her body with warmth. Ron is back where he belongs, and even if it’s only for a few hours, this feeling is a hundred times better than any of the letters he sends while they’re apart.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in, I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping,

Not that she plans on ever getting rid of them.

and never deleting.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione

111 notes · View notes

mobiusxyearslater · 3 years

Photo

Rekindling (A Sonally Story)

A/N: This whole thing takes place about two years before the whole AU/Your Dork starts off for context. ~Mun @t-vict101

On a cool night in New Mobotropolis, Princess Sally Acorn is walking back to her cottage from the Tommy Turtle Memorial Hospital. She witnessed her friend, Bunnie Rabbot give birth to her firstborn daughter Annabelle. The whirlwind excitement and joy practically drained Sally’s energy, it was time for much-needed rest. She quietly walked along the dirt path still thinking about her new niece, how cute she looked, and how happy Bunnie and Antoine looked. That’s the kind of love that could last lifetimes. Sally starts to wonder if she could feel that way someday. Well, she did at one point, the only person she felt happy with was--

“Hey there Princess! You’re out late!” Sally heard a voice pipe up.

She looked forward to see the source of the cheery voice, well who else could it be? The one and only hero of Mobius, Sonic the Hedgehog, sat there on her porch giving her a soft wave. Sally stared at him for a few moments unsure of what to do. The last time she saw him he was off fighting Doctor Eggman and saving the world once again. That was almost half a year ago. But that was how Sonic was. There was no tying him down after the job was done which led to their romantic relationship being more on and off if anything.

The ironic part was that their last break-up wasn’t because Sonic wasn’t around. It was because Sally was too busy juggling her life between her duties on the council and her duties as leader. Sonic did confront her about it which led to a big fight then eventually they agreed to go their separate ways. There was a twinge of guilt in Sally’s heart because of that and seeing Sonic there acting as if nothing happened. All Sally could do is muster up a small chuckle as she looks at the blue blur.

“Well, you know me. I’m always busy with one thing or another.” she joked as she took a seat next to Sonic, who gave her a chuckle.

“Oh, boy don’t I know it! So what was it this time?” He playfully props his chin in his palm, “Council meetings? Ribbon cutting? Oh! A big speech in front of the entire kingdom?”

Sally gives him a small nudge and shakes her head, “Oh shut up. If you have to know, Bunnie and Antoine just had their baby tonight..”

“What??” Sonic perks up, “Those two have a kid now? Man. I feel like I miss out on a lot.”

Sally chuckles and shakes head, “Well that’s what happens when you’re gone for months on end.”

Sonic chuckles and scratches his head, “Heh. Well, I do come back once in a while though so it’s not all bad.

Sally let out a small chuckle and nod looking out to the moon, “Yeah.. I guess so.”

The two sit in silence just watching the moon. There was a feeling that someone should say something but neither of them did instead soaking in the atmosphere. Somehow, someway, the silence was relaxing for them both. No one brought up the past or having to suffer the awkwardness of reliving the whole thing over again. But there was one burning question that rattled in Sally’s head. Of all places to go in the middle of the night, why hers? Sonic still had his parents, his Uncle Chuck, heck he could just crash at Tails’ place if he really wanted to.

Sally cleared her throat, making Sonic’s ear twitch. “So, you just randomly decided to pop up here?”

Sonic sweats a bit and gives off a nervous chuckle, “I guess I made it too obvious huh?” He looked at her shrugs, “...I guess I just missed you.”

Sally quirks a brow tilting her head, “Is that right?”

Sonic huffs at her tone and tilts his head, “What’s with that tone? I really did miss you.”

Sally chuckles and pats his head, sighing out tiredly, “And I missed you too.”

Still unable to get a read of what she’s thinking, Sonic wags at her at a finger, “...Why do I feel there’s a huge BUT coming up.”

Sally frowns and sighs out, “But… This feels like a pattern..”

Sonic gives her a confused look, “What do you mean..?”

Through her tiredness she starts to pet through the blue hedgehog’s quills, “...This. Us. You leave for a long time then come back saying you missed me. Old feelings come up and we try again. Then…”

Sonic watched Sally as her words tiredly trailed and looked down to the ground. He always loved Sally, that fact is the solid truth, but being committed was a whole different ball game. Thinking about her words more, he started to see the pattern too. Sure his feelings were genuine at the moment but he’s always changing his mind about them. He started to think that maybe Sally wanted more than just part of him. Maybe she needed all of him, just like he wanted all of her. Maybe just maybe, him leaving for months after each attack isn’t fair to her at all.

Sonic huffs out a chuckle and slides his hands behind his head, “...You wanna hear something funny?”

Sally rubs the tired out of her eyes and looks at him, “What’s that..?”

Sonic rubs his nose a bit, “While I was gone I actually dated someone for a small while.”

All Sally could do is huff in response, “So you can here in the middle of the night to tell me about your exes to your ex?”

Sonic nudges her a bit, “Just listen for sec. While I was away, I actually dated Amy for a small bit.”

Sally’s brows perk up hearing the news, “Wow. You actually let up and let her catch you huh?”

Sonic shrugs letting a small chuckle, “I did. I was always running and she was always there. I figured that was something I wanted or something. At least I thought I did.”

His words slowly trailed off as he thought about his time with Amy. The pink hedgehog sure was a spitfire. Wherever Sonic went she gladly went along with him for support. He figured giving her one date wouldn’t hurt. Then it turned into two. Then it turned to something exclusive. Their honeymoon phase was sweet but soon after Amy found herself in a bit of a rut. Hopping from city to city, fighting badniks left and right, she was all in on that no doubt but she wanted something more. At first, she thought Sonic was that solution, but when she had him that feeling never really went away.

Sonic sighs out softly circling his thumb in his palm. “So she dumped me. She said something about traveling around to find her purpose or something.”

Sally stared at the dejected hedgehog and softly petted his head, “You’re number one fan dumped you. That must’ve been a blow to the ol’ ego of yours.”

Sonic stifles a small chuckle letting himself relax under Sally’s touch, “Yeah it was but I get it. It was fine for a while but I guess somewhere down the line. She realized I couldn’t give HER what SHE needed.” He lets out a sigh and looks up at the sky, “...I am proud of her though. Whatever she decides on doing for herself, she’ll be great at it.”

Sally nods in agreement and lets out a small yawn, “Yeah. She’s too determined to let herself fail at anything that’s for sure. She’ll probably be the best.”

Sonic shakes his head and looks at Sally, “Alright, enough about my dating life. What about you? Anyone in your life?”

Sally huffs out a chuckle and shakes her head, “Not really. There have been dates here and there but my busy schedule made it way too difficult to really settle into anything.”

Sonic snickers a bit, “Woo boy don’t I know it--” he stops himself when he watches Sally’s face slowly fall into a frown, “Come on Sal. I don’t blame you for your hectic schedule.”

Sally gives him a look and crosses her arms, “Isn’t that the reason you dumped me the last time?”

And there it was. That sting of awkwardness they worked so hard to avoid has finally come to the forefront. The silence draped over them as they sat there with their thoughts. No one knew what exactly to say at that moment. Sally realized she still had her hand on Sonic’s head and quickly pulled away looking away.

Sonic took a deep breath, “I know I gave you grief about it before. I just thought we could be how we used to be when we were 17.” Sally opened her mouth to say something but Sonic held up his hand. “Which I realized now… It can never be like that. I guess… I was…. I dunno.. Anxious about everything changing. You and Rotor on the council, Bunnie and Ant having a kid, Tails being the next inventor of the century, even Amy…” He takes a deep breath and kicks the dirt a bit, “...Seems like everyone is running this race and I'm dead last.”

Sally hums a bit pondering about his words, “...I guess… You’re feeling everyone is outgrowing you…?”

Sonic’s ear twitches and lets out a small pout leaning his chin in his palm, “....Maybe yeah…”

Sally lets out a small laugh and Sonic gives her a pouty look. She nudges him playfully, “Oh stop. I’m laughing because you’re the hero of Mobius. Everyone loves talking about you and practically wants to BE you.”

Sonic huffs out and crosses his arms, “I KNOW! I know I just… feel like I can do… more… Like I could do more for the world, my family, our friends, even you--”

Sally’s brows perk up at the last part Sonic started to say but cut himself off. It was kinda strange seeing him so vulnerable. Usually, he had a real cocky attitude with everyone and was the brightest in the room. Honestly, this was a side of him that she tried to bring out a lot of the time but he would always brush it off like it was nothing. He seemed almost embarrassed that he was saying all of this out in the open, especially saying it to her.

She softly puts a hand on his shoulder, “...Hey. It’s normal to feel that way. Almost everyone feels that way sometime or another, right?”

Sonic sighs out and looks at her, “Yeah but it’s ME we’re talking about.”

Sally huffs and stands up, “Yeah and I know you better than you think. You’re a guy who takes action. You’re always putting others first before yourself. You’re a hero that inspires everyone to be the best versions of themselves.” She holds out a hand to him, “...Now are you going to stop moping and do something about it?”

Sonic stares at her hand remembering those were the words he said to her years before. He huffs out a chuckle before grasping onto her hand and standing up, “You got me there. And you’re right, like always.”

Sally chuckles and shakes her head, “Of course I am. I’ve known you way too long to be wrong.”

Sonic chuckles a bit and watches her make her way up to her front door. He leans on the porch rail and tilts his head, “So I’m guessing I shouldn’t keep you from your beauty sleep any longer huh princess?”

Sally chuckles and shakes her head turning back to him, “Well that all depends if you’re going to keep me up all night.” She opens the door and gestures inside.

Sonic gives off a snarky chuckle as he walks up the steps stopping in front of her, “Oh ho ho! And what exactly do you mean by that princess?”

Sally rolls her eyes and pushes him inside of the cottage, “I mean you’re sleeping on the couch!”

Sonic pouts and leans back in her hands, “Aw but I could really use a nice big warm bed after months without one!”

Sally shakes her head, “You should’ve gone to your parents then.” She lets out a soft chuckle before shutting the door behind her, “You big dork.”

END

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #sonic #archie sonic #archie sonic the hedgehog #archie sonic comics #sonic fanart #sonic fandom #sonic satam #sally acorn #sonsal #sonally #fan fic writing #fan fiction #writing

140 notes · View notes

honeyatsu · 3 years

Text

Loner (Junpei x F!Reader)

Reader implied POC! but ofc anyone can read <3

warnings: none that I can think of

Summary:

Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

masterlist

Spotify playlist - all the songs I listened to helping me write this story. lmao and songs that helped inspire some parts. Think of it as an unorganized soundtrack.

AO3

a/n: Hiii. He deserved better. I was rewatching and got mad all over again. The first time I saw his character arch I almost threw the whole show away lmfao but I can’t wait to continue the manga during summer! There wasn’t enough content so I decided to make some.

The familiar dark marble floors were all Junpei would keep his eyes on as he walked to his next class, the chatter of his fellow classmates bouncing around the walls acting as background noise he would attempt to mentally cancel out. Junpei didn’t bother to look anyone in the eye, it’s not as if he had anyone to look forward to seeing anyways truthfully. High school was supposed to be a place where the best memories were made, but Junpei couldn’t relate to those empty promises of those being his best years. Everyday feeling as if there was a target on his back for his unfriendly peers; he would do his best to hide within the shadows he felt comfortable in, doing his best to make himself as invisible as possible. His only goal was being to survive the day without being bothersome to others.

Just as before, staring at the ground and ignoring the chatter going on in the classroom he made his way to the conjoined desk in the back of the room. He sat on the desk and began pulling out the material, his first time raising his head during the day to scan the room, everyone but one other person having a sitting partner. It didn’t sting him that he was sitting alone, that’s how things usually went for him. He was either alone or ostracized, finding being alone the better option of the two.

As the teacher began to lecture about the importance of being prepared for the advanced chemistry class, Junpei began to scribble down in his notebook taking notes already. His eyes didn’t leave his notepad until he heard the large bang of the classroom door hitting the wall.

“I’m sorry for being late!” you screamed while bowing to the class, panting and catching your breath with your hands now holding on to your knees. It was easy to tell that you ran to class and still managed to be notably late.

The teachers rolled her eyes at you, unfazed by your obnoxious entrance in the classroom. “Just choose a seat.” She scowled before returning to the beginnings of her lecture.

Your eyes scanned the room before you noticed the empty spot in the combined desk in the back, you didn’t even look at the person who would be sitting beside you, you just knew you wanted the desk farthest away from the front to prevent being called on during class.

Junpei on the other hand cursed himself as he saw you rush to the seat next to him; he knew that the seat was your target as soon as he noticed your eyes land on it. He recognized who you were, he knew who your friends were. Why would you sit next to him? What was your plan, to mock him? His heart was beating rapidly the closer you got, his palms began sweating. He doesn’t know if he can manage being picked on in class, he has never had a personal interaction with you but what made you different from your friends?

You rushed your way to your seat and began to drag the items from your bag onto the desk. Your elbow accidentally bumped into the classmate next to you, the physical action causing a small yelp from the boy. You finally turn to see him, the first thing you noticed were his eyes, they were the kind of green that would kiss over the ground during the beginning of spring time, probably the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and reached his shoulders, with one bang large enough to cover the right side of his face. You were too enchanted by his appearance that it took you a while to see how uncomfortable he was. His body was slightly trembling as your elbow was still making physical contact with him, his eyes slightly widened, he wasn’t even trying to hide how uncomfortable he was with the accidental physical reaction along with you staring at him as if he had three heads.

“Sorry.” You whispered to him removing your elbow from his side and looking down at your stationary materials, organizing them on the desk. From the corner of your eyes you can see him looking down at his desk, his body was stiff, and you could tell he was still uncomfortable. “If me sitting here bothers you, I’ll move…. it’s just this is a hard class and I don’t want to be called on all the time and embarrass myself.” You turn to face him and see that he still isn’t looking at you. “But please put up with me. I promise I won’t distract you.”

His eyes perked up while hearing your last sentence, he didn’t expect you to have such a kind and sincere tone. He finally brought his head up, slighting turning his head to face you. He couldn’t point out where he’s seen eyes like yours before, and he saw the small smile formed on your lips. People have smiled at him before and he can usually tell how people are feeling by looking at their eyes. He was good at reading people, he had to be just to survive. But he couldn’t read you, he couldn’t tell how you were feeling towards him. He doesn’t remember the last time someone showed him any sort of sincerity.

“No…it’s fine. You can sit here.” He managed to whisper out while looking back down scribbling down some notes.

Fifteen minutes went by, the class slowly dragging out and it being harder to focus. Junpei’s head was starting to feel heavy, he didn’t regain complete focus until he noticed the ink getting lighter on his notebook. He scribbled fast and hard, trying to get ink out before realizing it was completely dry. He cursed himself in his head, his day just starting and already something had to go wrong. Hearing the sound of rough scribbling on the paper your eyes darted to his side, seeing the pen drag only putting scratches on the sheet.

His head turned towards you out of curiosity, hearing the aggressive rustling from you digging in your bag. Your eyes focused and face scrunched up in concentration, your tongue slightly sticking out. He wanted to think you were cute, but he knew who your friends were, and that group was anything but cute. While he was deep in thought about how unfortunate it was that he already knew the type of person you were by your crowd, he almost missed the sense of accomplishment displayed on your face as you pulled out a packet of glitter pens. Your smile grew as you turned to him, realizing he was already looking at you. You were satisfied with the first instance of eye contact with your desk mate. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks; he didn’t need a mirror to know the red hues were forming on his face embarrassed with getting caught staring at you.

“These are my favorite pens.” You whispered to him, still looking at him not caring that he looked away for a second. “I only share these with my friends.” His eyes grew wide, were you going to rub in his face that his pen went out on him? What kind of teasing was this, for you to make fun of something so small? He was appalled that he knew he was right, you sat next to him just to -

“So, lets be good friends, okay?” You cut off his train of thought as you placed a dark blue glitter pen on his desk. He slowly turned to you, seeing the same smile on your face from earlier, the same smile he couldn’t quite read.

He nodded back at you nervously, his hands shaking as he grabbed the pen you placed onto his side of the desk. You nodded to him as you returned to focusing on the lesson, knowing his nod was his way of saying ‘thank you’ without speaking.

Junpei had trouble focusing on the rest of the lesson, hands still shaking while using the pen you let him borrow.

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

Your body ached as you dragged yourself out of the school grounds. Cheer club just ended, and you were exhausted from learning the basics of it considering this would be your first time being in the cheer club. The sun was out still, slowly going down making the sky a mix of yellow, orange and red. The only thing you could think about was going home and hoping that your mom had left over food from the dinner the other day.

While walking to the direction of your house you noticed a boy with a slender build a few feet away from you, and once you saw the long bang you grew excited, recognizing him as the boy you sat next to in class. All the energy you lost regained quickly as you ran up to your new friend. “Hey!” You screamed as you ran into his back, tripping on the cracked ground while making your way towards him. You held on to his sides to prevent you from falling, his body tensed up at the sudden contact and you screaming at him.

His heart dropped, he thought he was able to go an entire day without being picked on. He was confused, he didn’t think you’d bother him too. He made sure to not get in anyways way today, he just wanted a day where he could be in the background and be left alone, but at the last moment of him being on his way home you appeared out of nowhere and ran into him. Were you trying to push him down? Did you get angry he never gave the pen back? Were you being kind to trick him before you finally got to pick on him like the rest of your friends?

“I’m sorry!” You squealed out. You removed your hands from his back and walked towards him, giving him a tired smile.

You apologized for hitting him, why did you apologize?

“Didn’t mean to run into you! I just left my club and saw you walking, I wanted to say hi. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, again.” You laughed out awkwardly. Junpei gave you a confused look. He was suspicious of you, what did you want from him for you to constantly acknowledge him unprovoked? Sure, he’ll let go of the class interaction. You guys were desk mates, you were probably being cordial. You lend him your pen because you noticed his ran out, unlike your friends you at least had common decency. But why would you come up to him outside of class? What could you possibly gain from talking to him outside of having to?

The pen. Once he remembered he never gave it back, he retrieved it from his pocket and brought it out, extending his hand out to give it to you. “I-I never said thank you. Here, you can have it back.”

Once you saw what he was trying to do you laughed at his actions, “I gave it to you silly. It’s yours to keep! I mean we’re friends after all, right?”

His breathe got caught in his throat, he felt unable to respond. He tried to find any signs of malice in your face but couldn’t find anything.

“Oh, right. I sound funny declaring friendship when I don’t even think I’ve given you my name! I’m y/n.” You said with a smile.

For the first time, he returned it back to you softly. “Junpei.”

You opened your mouth to say something back, but your next sentence was disrupted with a loud growl from your stomach. Your eyes widened in embarrassment as your squealed and brought your arms to your side, squeezing your stomach.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “I just left my club. It was a lot of work today, my body is exhausted and I’m starved.”

Junpei laughed at your reaction, you smiled realizing you got another first from him today.

“Hey Junpei, are you busy?”

“Uhm, I was just going to walk home now…” he replied back to you softly.

“How about we get some ramen! I know this great place not too far from school. I was gonna eat at home, but there probably isn’t food anyways. And you’re here so I don’t gotta go alone! You’ll love it I promise, it’s so good.” You continued to ramble on. You didn’t even give Junpei a chance to respond to you before you grabbed his wrist and dragged him along to the direction of the ramen restaurant. You were walking in front of him as he was being dragged behind you, you were holding onto his wrist the entire way there. He was glad you didn’t get a chance to see his flustered face the entire way there.

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

“You’re seriously not going to finish?” Your voice was muffled due to your cheeks being stuffed with the food in your mouth. It was hard not to stare at you while you were eating, he’s never seen a girl eat so aggressively or fast. You took a big swallow of the remaining food in your mouth, his eyes grew wide noticing your bowl, completely empty. “How embarrassing, I’m done already.” You whined out noticing his bowl looking as if its barley been touched.

“I don’t eat much.”

“I guess I should have asked if you had an appetite before I invited you. All I did was embarrass myself.” You sighed as you leaned back in your booth, rubbing your bloated stomach for comfort.

“I-it’s okay! Um, I’m…sorry?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression, “You’re real funny, you know?” You took out your phone and whined as you noticed how late it was getting. “It’s getting so late and I totally forgot I had chores! My moms gonna kill me!” You hurriedly got up and grabbed your school bag.

Before you walked away you turned to Junpei, “I hope we do something like this again one day.” And with that being the last thing you said, you ran out of the restaurant and headed your way home.

Junpei was in his head the entire way home. This by far had to be the most confusing school day he’s had. He tried not so hard to think about the classroom interaction, but then you basically forced him to hang out with you after school hours. Friends weren’t something Junpei had a lot of, he grew up being bullied and it followed him even at the age of seventeen. Outside of his few club members, he didn’t really talk to anyone let alone see them after school.

He’s seen you around before, you were pretty popular. You were always surrounded by friends; he can’t say he was fond of any of them. You declared him as your friend, but didn’t you know what your friends did to him? He couldn’t tell if you were genuine, and he wasn’t ready to let his guard down yet. This was too suspicious for him.

All he had on you so far was:

You were very peculiar, your aura screamed kindness but it could be too good to be true. He had just met you after all.

You had a problem with being on time.

Him being in his head made his walk home seem quicker than it usually was, time flew by as he was mentally theorizing who you were as a person and what was your plan with him. He didn’t even hear his mother greet him as he walked in, asking if he was hungry and ready to eat.

“Junpei? Are you not going to eat?”

“Hm?” He finally looked up from the ground facing his mom. “Oh, no. Sorry. I didn’t tell you I went out to eat after school. With a….friend.”

#junpei yoshino #yoshino junpei x reader #jjk #jjk junpei #junpei x poc reader #jujutsu kaisen #readerpoc #poc reader #junpei x reader

307 notes · View notes