#i forgot what thought process led me to write this story

[flutefemme]

Congratulations for all your milestones!! That’s awesome :)

Here’s a little something: BOTW Zelda discovering the silent princess flowers by the fairy fountain :) (maybe a special someone brings her there deliberately 👀)

@silentprincess17 , I give you both a drawing AND a little story to go with it, since this prompt was so wonderful!😄

The Silent Princess

In the days following Ganon's defeat, Zelda was exhausted. She slept nearly half the day every day for the first week, and didn’t do much more than read or sit by the pond at the Hateno house, writing in her journal while she was awake. Link had bought the journal for her, thinking that it would be good for her to write her thoughts and feelings down on paper to help her begin to process what she had been through. 

As she wrote down a particularly troubling memory, she felt someone gently sit down next to her in the grass. Looking over, a familiar pair of azure blue eyes greeted bright green, along with a mop of messy blond hair and a lopsided smile.

“Hello, Princess.”

“Hello, Link. I’m glad you’re here.” She smiled back, breathing in deeply through her nose and looking back down at her journal.

“I have a question for you,” Link nervously picked at the grass as he leaned back on his arms and looked wistfully over the pond. He was, for the first time, without his sword on his back. Dressed in his usual comfortable Hylian trousers and boots, he had swapped out his champion’s tunic with a much simpler, airy light green tunic with laces up the arms.

“Then by all means, hero, please ask it!” Zelda turned to face him, her smile still lighting up her face. Link looked at her for a moment and lost his train of thought. After a few moments, Zelda tilted her head slightly.

“Link?”

He blinked a few times, clearing his throat. “Sorry! I forgot what I was going to say for a second,” he chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his head. “So, it’s been a week, and you’ve had a good amount of rest. I think it’s important that we start venturing out a bit. I think it would be good for you to see Impa and…there’s something else I wanted to show you that I think you would like?” He phrased his suggestions as questions, still slightly unsure of his actual role with the Princess now that they were together in person.

“Oh! I think it would do my heart wonders to see Impa again. And I’m sure that you have encountered many things on your travels that are worth sharing. I think that’s a wonderful idea! Let me change into something more suitable for traveling. I can be ready in, say, thirty minutes?” She stood up, her knight following her lead and nodding with a smile.

—----------------------------

“Ohhh! I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that feeling in my stomach,” Zelda whimpered as she faltered on the pedestal. Link had his arm wrapped around her middle to steady her, and gently put a hand on her arm.

“I know, it’s a weird feeling. You will get used to it, though, I promise. So…before we go see Impa, there’s something I wanted you to see.” His eyes twinkled. 

“Then lead the way! I can’t imagine what you are going to show me!” she looked down as Link offered his hand. With a slight blush, she gingerly put her hand in his, and he gave it a gentle squeeze as he tugged her toward  the path.

“C’mon. This way!” He led her up a little hill and into a grove of trees. Zelda's eyes grew wide as she saw the enormous pink petals of the fairy fountain and the ethereal shimmer of the air just above it.

"Is this–"

"A Great Fairy Fountain? Yes. But that's not what I brought you here to see. Come back around here." He led her to the side of the fountain, motioning Zelda to sit on a turquoise toadstool nearby. 

"Close your eyes," Link instructed with a slight grin.

"Close my eyes? Why?" The Princess looked at him dubiously, a slight frown on her face.

Link sighed. "Just close your eyes, princess. Trust me."

"Okay. I trust you with my life, hero. I await your surprise." She closed her eyes, her hands twisting apprehensively in her lap. She heard a rustling of grass and his movement in front of her as she sensed him crouching down. 

"Keep them closed until I say!" The excitement in Link's voice was obvious. She let him continue, her eyes still closed. "So I remember the day you told me about the Silent Princess flower." There was a pause as Link gathered his thoughts before continuing on. "I remember you talking about how it only thrives out in the wild, and it reminded me of you," he said shyly, his ears turning pink.

"Of me?" Zelda's voice was soft as she raised her eyebrows with her eyes closed. "How do they remind you of me?"

Still crouching beside her, Link looked up at her. She was lovely. More lovely than he could remember from his fractured memories. The crippling anxiety had left her and in its place was a glowing curiosity and a confidence that illuminated her countenance. Her hair shimmered in the afternoon sun that was shining through the canopy of green, and her long eyelashes fluttered slightly against her pretty, pink cheeks. He felt his chest warm as he thought about what a life with her might look like.

"Link?" She tilted her head. "You're still there, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm here. They remind me of you because you were always most at home when you weren't at the castle--when you were on an expedition or an outdoor excursion. You were also very…dependent on your father's approval and were stifled by the expectation of the power manifesting itself in you. Much like the flower that withered in an enclosed, controlled environment." Link shifted his weight as he leaned over toward her, tenderly taking her hand and opening it with his fingers.

"Oh," Zelda's voice was almost a whisper as she felt the gentle, calloused fingers of her traveling companion press against her own and place something into her palm and press her fingers back into a grasp.

"And for the past week…" Link cleared his throat nervously, "I've watched you slowly grow and begin to thrive in a new environment. And I know that soon you will be ready to be the leader your people will need. And you will find the strength within you to grow in a place that is challenging. That has…many expectations. So…" Link paused. "Open your eyes."

Zelda slowly opened her eyes and looked at the object in her grasp. They widened as she saw the beautiful Silent Princess flower, plucked from its natural habitat and delicately brushing its petals against her hand.

"Link! How did you–"

"They grow around the Fairy Fountains. I think you should try to grow them domestically again. I have a feeling that the Princess will surprise both of us with just how strong and resilient she is," he responded with a shy smile.

Holding the flower, her gaze shifted from her hands over to Link, her lips curling up into a knowing grin.

"Are you talking about me, or the flower?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

"Yes," he replied with a soft smile.

[bokettochild]

Would you be willing to tell us your first impression of the chain compared to how you feel about each of them now that you've explored them more in your stories?

Sure!

So, my first impressions were very biased, but they are as follows

Like any person who got into this fandom recently and through fanart, I knew Wild first and as such I loved him best. I thought he was a bit more serious than I would have thought from what 'd seen elsewhere, but I was chill with that. I thought he was fun, traumatized, and just a blurbo.

Now? Now, I like Wild. he's fun, and he has his moments. I do agree that there's a bit much of him in the fandom, but I can't blame y'all for liking him! He's a good character, although a bit stale for me now. He's like cookie-dough, I think. He's very nice and full of potential but after enough of him it's all just the same dough with a few different toppings :( I love him, don't get me wrong, he just isn't very fulfilling to write or read about anymore

Legend, as you all know, is my current favorite, but originally? Heck no! He wasn't very involved in stuff so I mostly saw the fanon content, and half of it painted him so cruely! Like, I thought he legit an ass all the time, and not in a good way. The fandom portrayed him like my childhood bully and I wanted to stay the heck outta the way of that mess.

And then, while looking for Wild fics, I accidentally ran into some for Legend and one thing led to another and- the ass who cared about no one but himself and who was cruel and selfish, turned out to be this guy who shows his love and care in subtle ways and actions. He's brash and a bit rough around the edges, but he does care and he would do anything for his brothers. He's strong and steps up when needed, and he's both intelligent and aware, something that is sadly disproportionate among links, who are usually only one or the other.

Twilight struck me as a worrying and sometimes dumb big brother who is kinda doofy. Like, I thought he was just a goofy but overly defensive big bro at first, and he just happened to turn into a wolf. I didn't know anything from canon, so I just rolled with that.

And then I learned more about his game, both from reading and hear y'all chatter. now? twilight is the overtired big sibling who sees himself as the one who has to be a pillar. He forgets about some of the others and focuses mostly on Wild and Time, but when they aren't around he loves being with the others. He's stressed, traumatized, and I don't feel like he's had enough time to process the garbage he's been through. Honestly, he's scary relatable and potentially dead

Time? Dad, just dad. I knew he was dad, and I still think he is dad. Now, I know now that he has a mischief gremlin side, but before his only trait was gruff leader dad man who I would like to have in my life because reasons (not simpy ones). My opinions of him haven't changed much

Wind? I saw this kid and was worried he'd be annoying. he;s not. i saw him as just a kid t first, but the more I got into stuff, the more I realized that Wind is actually pretty mature and intelligent. I think that's the only thing that changed in my mind though, Wind gained a brain and maturity in my understanding of him, but he was still a doofy lil guy who loved to chill with his bros and is a bit out of depth in this adventure, but willing to face it anyway and do his best.

Hyrule, sadly, was a non-entity for me. I always forgot him and he just...didn't stand out. Now, I see him and know he's a traveler and the bearer of the whole triforce, The fandom makes him babey but he could kill a man with ease, and he's got some self confidence issues, but a bit of snark and a quick mind. He's simple, but I love him for that :)

Four was...I was so confused by Four. I had no clue who he was, why he looked so odd, and what was up with him being four people in that one old art piece. I just kinda let him fall into the background. And then I learned who he was, what he did, and what he can do. i fell in love and if I had the space, I would explain every little facet of his selves that I love, but to save time I will just say that I now see him as a smart little cookie who takes most things in stride. He's a chill guy, most of the time, but he's secretly losing his mind inside and just trying to keep everyone, including himself, alive.

Oh boy...now for the last two, Warriors and Sky.

Honestly? Sky was just, boring. He didn't do much, and he just seemed like this guy who was always smiling and chill and quiet and i just...I didn't care for him? Like, he wasn't bad, but he wasn't interesting. Just that one guy who is always calm and I honestly felt he was overrated.

And then I learned more and now I love him. I think of Sky now as being a softie and a caring person who has been through so much and just needs a good sleep. Maybe gifted child burnout similarities or something. But that's only half the time. the rest of the time? he's the chosen of the goddess Hylia, he's the killer of Demnise. He's terrifying and battle hardened, but he doesn't let that stop him from being a caring and gentle person, and I admire that :) I think of him like a sword, pretty to look at, nice in the background when it's chill, but devastating on the field of battle and totally capable of ending you.

And then we have the captain.....

To be honest, I hated him. He was this tall pretty boy who had a lot of love and cool moments, but, he just...bugged me. What made him special? why should he matter over anyone else? Seriously, why does this twink get so much attention?

And then I wrote him. And I did it again. i wrote him because I didn't like him, so if I messed it up I wouldn't feel bad, but the more I wrote, the more I got attached and, well.

He's strong, he's hardened and he's hurt. he handles it better than most of the others, but they guy still has his issues. Like Sky, he doesn't let that stop him from being there for others and supporting them, and he balances himself better than Twi, not giving until he's got nothing left, but knowing his limits. He's a good leader when time can't, and he's smart and capable. I like him, I like him a lit :)

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #lu wild #lu sky #lu time #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu warriors

[tealenko]

The Three Letters (Chapter 6)

Chapter 6: A Journey to the Past

This got more experimental than usual… Upsss?? I even had to divide the chapter in two because it was already too long XDDD So this is now a 15 chapters fic (for now lol). Don't worry, I'll finish it no matter how many chapters I add (it will take me a while because I have a life and that kind of stuff ehehehehe but I'll finish it, don't worry about it.)

So yeah… Jacob centered chapter (that's another reason this took so long to write… English is not my first language, and changing my writing to fit his speech is really challenging for me. It gives me room to be creative though, which is always a win).

Anyways~ Hope you enjoy it!!

Oh, almost forgot XD The canon dialogue is in bold and the inner thoughts in italic

Summary: Jacob gets absorbed by his own memory and, while Lara tells everyone how she managed to acquire the Atlas, his mind travels back in time to relive everything he felt while he stayed behind.

Words: 3268

Rating: Teens and Up All Chapters -> [link] Read in AO3 -> [link]

I suggest you read this one in my AO3, here I can't show the real format of the chapter.

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Just as Sofia predicted, once the whole dining and music is over, everyone reunites and sits forming a circle in the area they were dancing less than an hour ago, and, of course, Lara quickly becomes the center of attention.

The two girls sit together after Sofia secures a seat in the best lit area. Her father, to her surprise, doesn't follow them, and instead decides to sit right behind the opposite part of the circle, resting his weight onto the fence of the closest cabin, sitting alone in the dark where only Lara, who stands up to share her stories, has a clear view of him.

Jacob doesn’t know how to feel about the whole deal. Part of him is really curious about her past before she found them and all her adventures after she left Siberia a few years ago. But, another side of him, is truly worried she’s going to force herself to share something she’s not ready yet to tell. 

He gives her a ‘you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to’ look right before she’s about to speak, to which she replies with a soft smile to reassure him that she’ll be okay.

Lara has shared with him bits and pieces of what led them to meet years ago, but even he is surprised to hear the full story, mesmerized by the way she shares the astounding achievements she accomplished like it’s nothing special, and heart broken by the inflection in the tone of her voice as she talks about Grim, Alex and especially about Roth, subtle enough to hide her true emotions from anyone else but not good enough to fool him too.

The moment she finishes the story, explaining their escape from the island, everyone starts to murmur all at once, commenting on their favorite bits with whoever is sitting right by their side. 

Everyone except Jacob.

Jacob, who keeps processing everything she just said, quickly starts to worry not about her words, but for all the untold details they implied, wishing with all his heart to have misinterpreted some of the things that only him was able to catch, especially about the whole story of how she got her first kill.

He spirals into these thoughts for a while before someone’s voice raises among the whispers to ask Lara a direct question.

“And what about Sam? Is she okay now after all that?” Says one of the villagers, curious about the consequences of the experience on the poor girl that almost got sacrificed to a ghost japanese queen. 

“Yeah…” Lara smiles and nods, but there’s a hint of hesitation on her words before she continues. “Or so I’m told… I haven’t seen her in a while.” She sighs and takes a moment before continuing. “ We cut ties even before I came here…” And redirecting her eyes to Jacob she adds: “...sometimes you have to sacrifice things for the greater good and I… I needed to keep going.”

Lara’s mind spirals for a bit into her own memories, trying to pinpoint the precise moment where her friendship with Sam started to crumble into pieces, tainting their shared and happy years with all the misery that followed them. 

Nevertheless, after a few seconds of reflection, she manages to get back to her train of thoughts, shaking her head a couple of times in order to do so.

“And that’s what led me here, in the end.”

The whole village starts to cheer and clap at her sentence, which makes Lara smile a little, surprised by their reaction to being now featured as the center of the story.

“Well, I guess that you already know how this part goes, so I’ll skim through it…” 

In less than a second she gets the negative reaction she was expecting, with everyone, especially the younger part of the group, wanting to hear the whole thing with as many details as possible, which makes her smile even more.

“Okay, okay… I’ll start from the beginning.”

And so she does.

There’s a general hush and anticipation when she starts talking, everyone paying all the attention possible to everything she’s saying. But this peaceful atmosphere, just as she imagines, doesn’t last for long. 

The claps start as she begins to explain how she escaped from Konstantine’s prison, helping Jacob to get out of the cell where they met for the first time, and carry on as she tells them how he saved her life back in return after they fell into the freezing river.

All eyes go to Jacob as they keep cheering and clapping, making him break into laughter to finally stand and make a subtle bow before looking at Lara, which she returns right away.

Sofia blushes, and everyone giggles, as she explains how this one almost shot at her at the entrance of the village, the first time she tried to set foot on it, followed by a: “We’re lucky Jacob made it back just in time!” That an unknown villager shouts from the back of the crowd, making all of them laugh even more.

Lara spends a great deal time explaining the details of the high and lows of her journey, very amused by the way the they react to her story: gasping, cheering and laughing in an almost never ending loop, only occasionally interrupted by a thick silence that spreads for a few minutes whenever she tackles the more serious moments of her past.

Jacob listens with care back where is sitting, alone behind the whole crowd, paying attention to everything she says as his mind throws memories at him to complete what she’s left out of her speech on purpose.

So, when she tells them how they argued about the Atlas and went to look for it, even when he told her not to, his mind drifts away instantly to replay the part of the story she’s not telling them. 

His side.

~

Jacob is seated at the end of the observatory stairs, his eyes fixed to the ground as his mind replays the whole conversation all over again.

“Then help me find it… Before they do!”Jacob hesitated for a second, with his heart shattering into pieces. Half of him wanting to aid her, half of him dreading the thought of it.  

As he would come to regret later on, his fears were the ones to win the battle. “This is not your burden.”

That didn’t really happen… He says to himself, in a futile attempt of changing what he knows to be the truth.

“Of course it is! My father died for this.”Her words scared his heart more than he was expecting. So he chose his own even more carefully. More targeted.

He lets his head fall down between his knees, bringing his hands to the back of his neck.

He chose to hurt her. “You can’t fill the emptiness inside you, Lara.” 

“It didn’t happen…” He whispers unconsciously, like his body thinks that the past will be miraculously rewritten by manifesting his wishes out loud on the present. 

Nevertheless, his futile attempts to erase the last hour of his life are just that: futile. His only relief being brought to him in the shape of a memory, the last of his words to Lara, that now also apply to him, slithering through his mind to give an end to both stories.

“You can only set it free.”

“I can only set it free…” He replies to his past self, now in his present, knowing he doesn’t have any other option than to accept what’s happened and move forward.

But, after everything said and done, how could he?

“Father…”

The sudden appearance of a new voice interrupting his train of thoughts doesn’t startle Jacob, who has been expecting to have this conversation for a while now.

“I know… ”

His voice almost breaks as his mind quickly replays the highlight of their argument.

“You can’t fill the emptiness inside you, Lara.”

“How could you say those things to…”

His mind fights back one last time, torturing with the memory of the shock on Lara’s face after hearing his reproach.

“I’m gonna find it. With or without you.”

“I know.” He replies, in a much firmer tone of voice now, angry with her for risking her life because of him, and angry at himself for allowing it.

“You can pay it with me if you want to, but that’s not gonna get you anywhere.”

“...” Jacob sighs and takes a moment to calm down as he leans a little backwards, resting his weight on his elbows. “I know.” He admits one last time, raising his head to look at his daughter in an apologetic way. “I’m sorry.”

Sofía breaks a little smile and takes a seat by his side, looking for a few seconds at the last ray of sun setting on the horizon before speaking one more time.

“You know she will find out, right?” She finally tells him.

“I just wished…” He starts saying without thinking, mainly to himself, while turning his head to look at his daughter, sitting right next to him with a confused look in her eyes. “I mean… I know… She’s quite clever, isn’t she?” Jacob rectifies just in time, successfully masquerading his true feelings behind his usual ambiguity.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He is confused for a second before understanding the switch on his daughter’s opinion and what she is truly trying to imply with her words.

“I thought you didn’t trust strangers…”

“Lara is no longer a stranger.” She replies, feeling a bit ashamed of how she acted and treated her at the beginning of their relationship. “And, to be honest, she may be the only one able to end this, once and for all.”

Jacob smiles faintly at his daughter’s words.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Then?” 

“I honestly don’t know…” Jacob sighs. “But you’re right, I should tell her.”

He takes his time, still hesitating about it, but he finally stands up, with his daughter following him right after, and turns to look at her before asking what he’s been anxious to inquire. 

“Do you know where I may find her?”

“Erm…” Sofia’s expression drastically freezes in a matter of seconds. “You’ll see…” She attempts to evade his question, without any success.

“You didn’t tell her…” He barely whispers, shocked by what he’s fearing.

Jacob closes the distance between them as fast as he’s able, grabbing his daughter by the arms in the process. 

“Tell me you didn’t tell her!”

Her father’s choice of words startles Sofia, who never in her entire life has seen him raise his voice or react to something like this.

“I...” She doesn’t know how to answer, shocked by the tinge of anger on Jacob’s sentence. Nevertheless, he doesn’t need to hear it to know what she is hesitant to say out loud.

Reality hits Jacob harder than expected, piercing a void in his heart only to be filled by fear and rage.

“You send her to face the deadless, on her own.” The dread of this thought seems to wound his soul in a way he’s never experienced before, feeling like an invisible thread is attached to it, and an unknown force that keeps pulling it with all its strength in an attempt to rip all his being inside out.

Sofía finally manages to recover from the initial shock, and quickly stands her ground, stating what she really thinks about the topic that brought about their entire argument.

“I didn’t send her anywhere, father.” She replies, feeling a bit hurt by his words. “And, no… I didn’t try to stop her either.” Jacob closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath, slowly releasing his daughter from his grasp. “Besides, I think you already know I wouldn't have been able to do so even if I wanted to.” 

Silence fills the air for a few seconds.

Sofia is now the one taking a moment to clear her mind after saying all this, trying to be understanding of her father's situation, thinking that Lara discovering their secret is what keeps him uneasy, and unaware of the true feelings that are now causing Jacob’s heart to crumble at the mention of her name. Tortured by the thought that she’s is now in danger because of him. 

“I know what you must be feeling…” 

You do not. His mind answers, too deep into his suffering to keep denying the true feelings that hide behind it.

“I know why you’re upset.”

You do not. He thinks again, but he nods, not ready yet to share the truth with anyone else.

“And Lara… Lara is strong. And wise.” 

That manages to get a subtle smile out of him, followed by a second nod.

“She can handle it… And I think she really wants to help us.”

“...” 

Another deep breath.

“Your… Our secret, will be safe with her.”

“...” Jacob nods a third time, following his gesture with a quick hug. “I know…” He finally answers in the middle of it. “I know.”

After the embrace is over, Sofia spends a couple of seconds analyzing his expression and, completely fooled by his now peaceful demeanor, she smiles at him and asks if we would like to help her fortify the main village.

“Levi has offered to help me, but if you want to join me…”

“I’d love to…” He replies with a faint smile. 

“But?” 

The fact that she knows him so well gets a chuckle out of him.

“But… I have other matters to attend to.” He lies. “I am sorry.” He lies again. “Do you mind if I join you later, once I’ve finished?”

“Sure.”

He despises not being honest, especially with his family but, right now, he needs to be alone. 

He needs to think, and his daughter, who maybe senses more than she’s able to understand, quickly grants his wishes, giving him a peck on the cheek and walking away, leaving Jacob with his fear, his guilt and his feelings, along with his never ending stream of desperate thoughts.

Forgive me, Sofia… He apologizes now that she’s gone, while he starts walking without a fixed route, hating the fact that he’s deceiving her by keeping the cruel truth to himself. But… I cannot tell you… At least, not yet. I… I don’t even understand…

He does.

“I…”

And he cannot pretend he doesn’t. Not anymore. Not after today.

I…

Even his thoughts choke when he thinks of it, unaware there were feelings left for him to discover after so many years and so many lives.

Another deep breath.

“...”

Jacob keeps walking, with the darkness as his only companion, letting his feet guide him wherever they want to go.

Why now? 

He asks, more to the heavens than to himself, mortified by the cruel timing he thinks the Lord has chosen for this to happen. 

A part of him is almost expecting to get a reply to the question, unconsciously waiting for minutes to hear something in the wind as he keeps walking away while headed nowhere. 

But it does not arrive. 

It never arrives. 

So he tries again.

“Why her?”

His voice disappears into the air along with his question. This time around although, he is not expecting an answer, and perhaps, or better said most likely, it’s because he already knows it.

After minutes of wandering, without a set course or route, he finally stops walking and, even if he hasn’t been paying attention to the path taken, now that he’s there he’s perfectly aware of where he’s been headed since the beginning.

After all, it is his favorite place in the entire world.

Despite the darkness, Jacob knows to perfection where everything is. Every little plant, every little rock. The hidden path that leads to the rim of the cliff, which he takes without hesitation, as he’s done countless times before, sitting on the edge, with his legs hanging from it, as he rests all his weight back and relaxes a little, taking in the views that hold such a special place inside his heart.

The murmur of the river and the thundering waterfall, crashing in the otherwise silent night, is a well known melody for him. A masterful composition that always manages to calm him down no matter the problem he needs to face.

That’s another first for Jacob. For, this time around, his thoughts, slowly but surely, are becoming louder than this cherished symphony, flooding his mind with too much noise to let him hear anything else.

The glimmers of light that sparkle in the water, which he usually examines for hours, caused by the stars and the moon that shine brighter than ever on the dark indigo sky are not enough, for the first time ever, to catch his attention or, better said, distract him, from what’s really eating him alive.

Instead, what used to be his sanctuary, seems to be turning in a new weapon for the universe to torture him even further, in which everything he ever thought to be beautiful or mesmerizing, is now just a reminder of each and every inch of all her being.

He cannot look at the dark shimmering river without picturing her sparkling umber eyes, or hear the water crashing against the rocks without imagining her voice and her laugh, nor feeling the air run through his hair without remembering hers flowing in the wind.

Why her? He asked before, and asks again, despite knowing way too well why.

“Why her…?” He murmurs now, but with a different tone, questioning the question instead of its subject. “Her indeed… Her.”

Jacob laughs at the thought of it.

How not?

How? He finally surrenders, and all his feelings break loose.

How could someone meet her and walk away?

A deep breath in, a deep breath out.

How could anyone think of anything after thinking of her.

His eyelids fall, his heartbeat hikes.

How can they look away when she’s on sight?

How can they move? How can they breathe?

Right hand on the ground. 

Left one on his knee.

How can my soul not fall apart?

How does one fight his own heart, if it’s not really meant to be?

How can I do more than crash, and burn and fall again, right at her feet?

~

The memory is so vivid that it takes him a little to hear the loud sound of people reacting to the end of Lara’s story about the Atlas, muffled by the reminder of that unforgettable night, where he realized he could no longer deny that he had fallen in love as never before in his life.

She stops talking just in time to see him starting to come back, taking the opportunity, now that the crowd speaks and laughs, to set her focus on Jacob for the first time in a while.

Him, on the other side, still needs a few more seconds to catch up.

The sound of the river gradually transforms back into laughter, the crash of the water into their comments, and his mind finally returns to reality, after its enthralling journey to the past, finding now, in his present, his only reason to come back and to keep going.

His eyes quickly search for hers, which are already waiting for him, falling again into that mesmerizing umber glow, as he did so long ago, and letting their gaze melt into one another as they both get lost into the other’s sight. 

Way too enchanted to look away.

Way too in love even try.

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Hell yeah!! Spent more than an hour on that ending, believe it or not, and I'm still not 100% happy about it… But overall I'm soooo happy to post a new chapter for this fic.

Next one we have Lara's pov of the "true" ending of RotTR so… yeah! Get ready because it's gonna get wild. Imma nuke the canon through the roof for that one lol

As always, feel free to stop for a chat if you want to <3

Today I'm feeling 100% happy for the first time in A LONG time… And I cannot think of a better way to celebrate than to post this… So here it is. Thanks to everyone that's been patient enough to wait for this, and welcome to any new reader that comes by. I'm so glad to have you all here.

Have a lovely day/night!!! ~~tea

#tomb raider #fanfic #jacob lara croft #lara croft #jalara #lara x jacob #lara croft x jacob #jacob x lara #jacob x lara croft #rise of the tomb raider #RotTR

[geminai-rambling-trinkets]

ANOTHER MHA AU IDEA!

ANOTHER MHA RANT WITH ME COKO! >:D

Currently stressed though, so, this is me getting that stress out! Apologies in advance!

I have yet to find a name that fits this AU so for now it's nameless but here is what you need to know about it! :D

Not me forgetting my warnings for y'all.

⚠️⚠️⚠️ WARNING: MENTIONS OF TOXIC ENVIRONMENTS! ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Anyways, this AU is quite old - like perhaps at least, three years old? Four or five if I remember correctly? It was one of my first AUs and it has gone through so much editing/recreations to get to the point where I'm satisfied.

(I FORGOT TO WRITE THAT IT WAS INSPIRED BY THIS WATTPAD FANFICTION WHERE SHINSOU BECAME IZUKU'S YOUNGER BROTHER. LITERALLY! HE WAS YOUNGER THAN IZUKU! I CAN'T REMEMBER THE NAME!)

Edit: I found it! It's called "With Love, Comes the Pain by Kirityu_Ryukaro" in Wattpad!

The link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/198360554-with-love-comes-the-pain

I read a fanfic and wrote down the title of this AU which was 'Broken but Not Lost' and boom! Something clicked and I thought and thought till the AU was completed! Well, maybe just the plot points but hey! Here is what I have!

PLOT POINTS -

Izuku is much, MUCH, older in this AU, somewhere between mid-to-early thirties.

Currently 11 for me, Izuku is 34 in this AU!

Izuku 'adopts' Shinsou when he was 15-17 years old.

Once again, I had to go through my notes and get a stable answer he was 25 while Hitoshi was 6! A 19-year difference if you want to know!

Also, he didn't legally adopt Shinsou, he asked if he wanted to come with him after Shinsou admitted to his "not so safe" environment that made Izuku boil with rage.

It would take 2 years before Shinsou asked Izuku to take him away from his group home. Where Izuku informed Shinsou "No" before asking again if he really wanted to; there's a reason why he asked that >:).

Izuku comes from a traditional family which led to a whole lot of problems that ended with Izuku running away when he was around 17.

Izuku hates his father.

Izuku 'loved' his mother and little sister, yes, you read it right, Izuku had a little sister in this AU!

It sounds like the usual, Izuku had a... shitty father and only had a tiny support system with only his mother and little sister but hear me out! A subtle theme this story has is generational trauma which is- a lot to unfold.

Generational Trauma or Intergenerational Trauma, in the shortest term, is trauma passed through the generations. The best example I can give is Enchanto.

I.E) A family member went through something traumatic experience and left those wounds unable to heal properly.

Subconsciously or consciously, it varies between family members, they project that trauma to their children, and those children, who learned it from their parents, projected that to their (grand)children.

It's just a cycle of broken people and open wounds being passed down from one generation to the next.

Why do I mention this? Izuku's father also faced the same type of... pressure that he gave to Izuku and it took so many years for the man to realize that.

Another subtle yet major theme(s?) is processing grief/mourning/overcoming grief because Izuku may care for his mother, he, however, adored his little sister.

His little sister was born sickly and it only got worse as she aged. The illness took her life when she was 13 years old while Izuku was 15. His mother a year afterward also passed away when he was 16, leaving Izuku and his father left of the Akatani family.

Izuku's father ended up in prison at some point in Izuku's life and he remains to be in jail for life. (Not that he cared, mind you, Izuku hates his father, and just because he's in jail won't change that fact.)

Izuku does have a quirk! It's a copy quirk!

This quirk idea came from this fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32035747/chapters/79355059

Called "Mimicry by Monkeygirl77

The quirk is called "Final Stage" which is an emitter type of quirk that resides in the eyes. Whenever the user looks at someone he can "copy" the quirk of someone. What I took from the fanfiction was that as soon as the quirk is copied it permanently stays with the user. The downside to this is that it can't be turned off which is why the user must always cover their eyes unless they want to copy another quirk.

It's even worse when he's in a crowd; it can cause sensory overload because of the number of quirks that are present in a crowd.

Shinsou is an orphan. I have no backstory for him yet it has been a while since I thought of this AU so it'll take a while!

Shinsou has - a lot of issues - the main being: trust, abandonment, and confidence issues.

Shinsou and Izuku are known as a vigilante duo; yes I stand for vigilante Shinsou and Izuku! But this time a father-son vigilante duo!

Izuku has been an active vigilante for 14 years now!

He started when he was 20!

He started as a person helping out shady people, that turned into a hacker, and soon a vigilante.

Shinsou started when he was at least 11 because it took a lot of convincing for Izuku to even agree to train Shinsou.

Izuku just wishes for Shinsou to live a happy, calm life but if being a vigilante and probably a hero is what Shinsou wants? He'll try his darn best to make it happen.

Izuku has been avoiding arrest for a long time now!

Izuku and his father will meet again but in a more fair environment. If you know what I mean.

I think that's all I have for now? I'm trying to remember it all but my brain sucks, so, I'll talk more next time! I have no theme song or name for this AU so bare with me with this. :')

THANK YOU FOR READING SEE YA! (also have a steady rest of your day!) -coko out.

#izuku midoriya #older izuku midoriya #parental figures #surprise adoption #shinsou hitoshi #mha au #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #found family #coko is back from the void

[tastycitrus]

The Powerpuff Girls (SRW) get their souls trapped in dolls and then stranded on Dr. Quandary’s Secret Island

Or, Meme Dwellers play The Secret Island of Dr. Quandary (except not really, I never wrote anything more for this). A joke story I wrote for some reason like two years ago that I’m now putting on here for some reason? It’s just a shitpost, lol.

Who thought it was a good idea to force the Steel Dragons to attend a carnival? The only culprit that came to mind was Excellen, but as crafty as she was there was no way she could’ve convinced the higher-ups to turn a carnival trip into a “mandatory team-building exercise” for the Steel Dragons and their associates.

Now, normally being forced to attend a carnival wasn’t the worst thing ever. But this carnival was really something else. I mean…really something else.

It was clear at first glance that the people behind this horrible place pretending to be a fun carnival didn’t care a single bit for their patrons’ safety. They also probably cared even less about making it actually fun.

The Ferris wheel was stopped for what had to be the fifteenth time that day, leaving the unfortunate victims who were dumb enough to get on trapped inside until the maintenance workers could get it moving again. The bathrooms smelled like rotten ass and probably had seventeen different STDs infesting the seats. The food was tasteless at best and looked like they had failed every bit of health inspection out there. All the games looked uninteresting and were probably rigged anyway.

To top it all off, even the atmosphere itself seemed to be as bleak and gloomy as this parody of a carnival. How the hell did this place manage to stay in business?

Katia, Melua, and Tenia thought long and hard about that question as they wandered around this travesty that called itself a carnival.

“Where’s Touya, Calvina, and the bland twins?” Tenia asked. “How’d we lose them in this place? I mean—I can understand losing Akimi and Akemi, but Touya and Calvina are pretty distinct, you know?”

Melua glanced around. “Yeah, usually Calvina’s the one who loses us, not the other way around.”

“You’d think we’d be able to keep track of the four people we were supposed to be exploring this ‘carnival’ with.” Katia scanned the premises for a familiar face. “Also, where the heck is anybody else? This place can’t be that big.”

She sighed, pulling out her phone. “You know what, why don’t we just try calling Calvina instead of wandering around like lost kids—”

Suddenly, a carny shouted very loudly in their direction, “Step right up! Have a try at this game! It’s free!”

Katia coughed after a moment. “Well, I’ll call—”

“Come on, don’t be shy! Try your hand at Troggle Shoot! You win a prize every time!”

“…I’ll call—”

“And yes, I am talking to you, trio of girls who look like lost children and whose color schemes are blatantly ripping off the Powerpuff Girls. Come here and play Troggle Shoot!”

The three girls sighed and turned to look at the carny shouting at them. He was a man dressed in purple robes and a funny hat manning a stand that no one seemed to be paying much attention to. His stand was evidently his game of Troggle Shoot, judging by his earlier shouting and also the flashing neon pink sign that said “Troggle Shoot” on top of the stand.

The three exchanged glances.

“What if it’s a kidnapping attempt?” Katia asked.

“Surprisingly, we haven’t run into that in this carnival yet,” Melua replied. “I don’t see any of the others, but if we shout loud enough someone should come running…”

“He doesn’t look so tough.” Tenia glanced at the carny. “He looks old and scrawny. I bet even we could beat him up. And he did go through all the trouble of calling us out.”

Katia sighed. “I swear, you two are going to land us in a shallow grave out on the side of a road one day.”

They reluctantly headed over to the carny’s stand, because he was a creepy old man being incredibly insistent on having three girls play his probably terrible game. He gave them what was likely supposed to be a disarming smile as they approached. Unfortunately, it just made him look creepier.

“Welcome, girls! I am the ingenious Dr. Quandary, the quintessential quizmaster! But you may call me Doctor Q.”

Oh great, alliteration. How wonderful—I absolutely adore the amazing appeal of alliteration. It’s immensely impressive to implement.

“You must be so happy,” Katia whispered to Melua. “You’ve finally found kin.”

“Shut up, Katia.”

Doctor Q continued on. “It’s your lucky day! I am offering you three a free game of Troggle Shoot! If you win, you can have these three dolls.”

He gestured to three dolls sitting atop a shelf in the stand. One was of a babyish blond child dressed in blue overalls. Another was a pink-skinned…person dressed in blinding yellow clothes. The last was aptly described as a horrific pumpkin-headed mutant wearing a popped-collar shirt and Hawaiian shorts.

“Excuse me, did I say dolls? I meant to say…Lifelike Action Figures!”

“…Just call them dolls, dude.” Tenia gave him her best impression of Calvina’s “what the fuck is this shit” face. “We’re not even boys—trying to play to that stereotype doesn’t make any sense!”

“Also these dolls are the ugliest things I’ve ever seen,” Katia added.

Melua grimaced. “Trying to offer them as prizes just makes me want to play this game even less!”

Doctor Q waved his hands. “Hey, hey, don’t be like that. Who knows? Maybe you’ll grow to like these precious faces!”

“I doubt that,” the three girls said in unison.

“…Look, it’s a free game and you get free stuff. Didn’t your parents teach you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Our parents are dead.”

“…Well, why not distract yourself from the grief and sadness with a little game of Troggle Shoot! It’s free! See that Troggle in the box marked TARGET?”

“We don’t want to—”

He pointed insistently at an LCD screen built into the side of the stand that showed an image that was probably supposed to be that Troggle thing he was talking about.

“Shoot as many of them as you can.” He set three BB guns on the table. “You each have 20 bullets. You can start firing whenever you’re ready.”

The three girls sighed. What a pushy guy. Seeing as he probably wasn’t going to leave them alone until they played his crappy game, they took the guns he offered them. Doctor Q’s smile widened as he stepped aside to activate the game. In the back of the stand, Troggles of all shapes and sizes began to roll across the shooting gallery’s three rows, but the girls were aiming for only one type.

One such Troggle came out first from the right on the middle row. Katia aimed and fired first. However, she aimed where it was instead of where it was going to be, so the Troggle rolled onward unharmed while her bullet looked stupid as it hit nothing.

“Oops. Well, at least Calvina isn’t here to complain about how much I suck at shooting.”

At least her mistake taught Tenia and Melua that they should aim slightly ahead of the Troggles to hit them. With that lesson learned, the girls began to shoot down Troggle after Troggle with relative ease. The game was surprisingly simple with no bullshit rigging involved, and they each had some experience in shooting because during their little venture in space Calvina decided to give them lessons since they had nothing else to do most of the time.

Once they used up their 20 bullets, their total Troggles shot came up to 53. Doctor Q shut off the machine and applauded them.

“Bravo, girls! Nice shooting! You’ve won your prizes.” He paused. “Though I must warn you; the prize you choose may have a dramatic effect on your future. These are not your ordinary Lifelike Action Figures. In fact, you might even swear they were alive sometimes!” He let out a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously still calling them Lifelike Action Figures?” asked Tenia. “And why does this sound incredibly foreboding?”

Doctor Q ignored her. “Let me tell you about them.”

He first gestured to the babyish one on the far left. “This is B. Ginner. It’s harmless, mostly.”

He moved on to the pink one on the far right. “This is O. D. Nary. A nice, middle of the road fellow.”

Finally, he motioned to the tan one with the pumpkin head. “And this is D. Fee Cult. It can be a real pain in the posterior. Which one will you take?”

“What’s with the punny names?” Katia asked. “And also the foreboding descriptions? Everything about this whole setup is incredibly suspicious and I don’t think we should accept these dolls.”

“Even if this whole thing didn’t scream danger, I still wouldn’t want these things,” Melua muttered. “They’re all so freaky.”

Doctor Q slammed his fist on the stand, making the girls jump. “You’ll accept these Lifelike Action Figures and you’ll like it!”

“Okay, fine! We’ll take the stupid dolls!” Melua turned to the others. “I’m…going with B. Ginner. It’s the least freaky of the bunch.”

Katia shrugged. “Alright, I’ll go with O. D. Nary then.”

“Wait, but that leaves me with D. Fee Cult!” Tenia whined. “It’s so freaky with that swollen pumpkin head!”

“Too late, Tenia. At least it looks like the ultimate dudebro with that outfit.”

She groaned. “Fine. Maybe I can freak Touya out by sticking it in his room…”

The three girls reluctantly accepted their prizes. God, they were so freaky and ugly.

As they studied their freaky prizes, the dolls decided to make themselves more horrifying by suddenly opening their eyes.

“AHH! WHAT THE FU—”

The dolls began to glow, blotting out their view with bright technicolor light. The girls heard Doctor Q laugh maniacally before they blacked out.

__________________

Katia awoke with a splitting headache. She rolled onto her side and pushed herself off the sand, rubbing her head with a groan. Thankfully, her ears didn’t get any sand in them—they were however filled with the sound of the ocean’s grey waves, destined to seek life beyond the shore just out of reach. Er, wait—I mean she heard the ocean lapping against the shore.

…Wait, when the hell did she get to the beach?

Katia looked up and nearly fell over when the first thing she saw were two of those freaky dolls she, Tenia, and Melua had been given moving around like they were alive. Also, they had somehow become as big as she was.

“AHH, HOLY SHIT!”

Her outburst drew the attention of the dolls, who also startled back and screamed. Their voices sounded an awful lot like—

…Wait.

“Tenia? Melua?” Katia asked tentatively as she looked down at herself. The clothes she was wearing certainly weren’t those she had on at the carnival. And her skin was definitely not pink before.

The only thing she knew that had this ungodly pallor and disgustingly bright set of clothes was…that doll…

Looking back up, she saw that the other two seemed to have drawn the same conclusion as her. Their expressions slowly shifted into that of surprise and growing horror. Faced with this terrible realization, the girls reacted the only way they knew how:

By screaming about it.

“NOOOOO! THE LAST THING I WANTED WAS TO BECOME THIS FREAKY PUMPKIN-HEAD DOLL!”

“Dammit, I knew we were going to wind up in some crazy situation one day!”

“This is the last time I play crappy carnival games or accept ugly dolls from strangers!”

Their freak-out session was interrupted by a bottle washing up on the shore. Inside was a rolled-up paper. The three girls looked at it and then at each other.

Tenia walked over to the bottle, uncorking it and pulling out the paper inside. She unfurled it as the other two came over to read the message written on it.

Dear suckers:

Ha! You have fallen into my trap! I have implanted your minds into these DOLLS and transported you to my Secret Island! Unless you can solve all my puzzles and meet all my challenges, you’ll never see your bodies again! You’ll be real nobodies! Get it? NO BODIES! Ha ha ha ha ha

Yours Q-ly,

Doctor Quandary

“…Well, that explains how we got in this situation,” Tenia muttered.

“What the heck is wrong with this guy? Who the hell thinks ‘I’m going to go trap random kids into ugly dolls for shits and giggles’? Literally what does he stand to gain from doing any of this?”

“…Katia, I think we should be more concerned about possibly losing our bodies forever at the moment,” Melua said.

“Yeah, but how are we supposed to get our bodies back? What, is he going to make us make some fixer elixir by completing his stupid challenges?”

As Katia spoke, Tenia walked over to the recycling bin that was conveniently placed nearby and dropped the message inside. Recycling was a habit she gained after Calvina got really angry at her for littering. Surprisingly, Calvina cared a lot about the environment.

Much to her surprise, a receipt popped out after she recycled the message.

“Wait, what? I got a receipt for recycling?” She picked it up and read the big words printed on the top. “…Doctor Q’s Fixer Elixir?”

Katia stared at her. “Are you kidding me.”

She and Melua went over to read the list with Tenia. They went through the entire list in silence.

“…What kind of an ingredient list is this?” Tenia asked. “What do you mean, ‘under-the-table decoration’? Who writes a recipe in riddles?”

Melua pointed at the directions. “The directions aren’t better. ‘Heat it up until it’s too hot to drink’? ‘Drink it’? Screw you too, Doctor Q.”

Tenia groaned. “This is gonna suck. We’re gonna need some major help with this one.”

She pulled out her phone from…somewhere and dialed a number. Katia stared at her pocketless shorts.

“…Where did you get your phone from?”

__________________

The Ferris wheel had been stopped for a whole ten minutes with no signs of moving yet. Heck, the maintenance workers hadn’t even shown up. Trapped in one of the compartments at the top were Calvina, Touya, and the Akatsuki twins. Calvina glared at everyone else as they all sat in awkward silence.

“I told you this thing would break down.”

Touya looked at the floor while Akimi and Akemi stared out of opposite windows.

“…Worth it.”

“Was it? Was it really?”

“…A little.”

Calvina sighed. “This is almost as bad as that time we were stuck in that escape shuttle meant for only two people at best.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s that bad,” Touya replied. “At least this time we have breathing room and you don’t have to steer with Akimi’s ass in your face.”

Akimi coughed. “Yeah, this…is a lot better than that.”

“And we also don’t have any space malaria to worry about.” Akemi frowned. “How did we even get into that situation to begin with?”

Akimi shrugged. “Beats me. We just kinda…woke up like that. Anyway, I hope the ride starts again soon. Don’t freak out yet, but I kinda have to pee.”

The others stared at him.

“…I hope they get the ride fixed soon,” Touya muttered.

“I’ll beat the shit out of you if you piss yourself,” Calvina said flatly.

Akimi lowered his head. “Uh…got it…”

Akemi patted him on the shoulder. “If it comes down to it, you can probably pop open the compartment door and pee out there.”

“Ew, I’m not going to do that.”

Suddenly, Calvina’s phone rang.

“…Really, Calvina? Your ringtone is Megalovania?”

“Shut up, Touya.” She took out her phone and checked the caller ID before taking it. “What is it, Tenia?”

“Calvina, we need your help. Some old fart named Dr. Quandary forced us to play his crappy game and then stuffed our souls into these ugly ass dolls. Now we’re stranded on his secret island and he’s making us solve a bunch of puzzles to gather ingredients to make what sounds like a very unappetizing drink to cure our dollness. We gotta do it, because otherwise we’ll be stuck like this forever and I don’t want to be an ugly ass pumpkin-head dudebro forever, this doll is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. So can you please help us solve these puzzles when we get to them?”

“…What?”

“What did Tenia get into?” Touya asked.

“Apparently she, Katia, and Melua played a suspicious carnival game in the ten minutes we were separated and then the guy running the stand stuffed their souls into some dolls. Or something.”

“…What?” the other three said at the same time.

“Yeah…” Calvina frowned. “Wait, if you three are stuck in dolls without your bodies how do you still have your phone?”

In the background, she heard Katia shout, “That’s what I asked!” Tenia on the other hand was silent.

“…I don’t know, but it’s convenient, shut up. Are you going to help us or not?”

Calvina rubbed her forehead. “I mean, I guess…it’s not like the four of us are going anywhere, since these idiots wanted to ride the Ferris wheel so damn badly.” She glared at the others once again.

“What? But that thing was obviously going to break down!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said! But nooo, we just had to ride it. Look, I’m putting you on speaker now so everyone can hear what you’re saying.”

She did exactly that before setting her phone on her leg. “Okay, what are we dealing with? Where are you right now?”

“Uh, we’re on a beach. I got a message in a bottle and recycled it to get a recipe for this ‘Fixer Elixir’ which is probably the thing that’s supposed to turn us back to normal. The recipe is weird as shit though. Here, I’ll send Touya a pic.”

Touya’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out. A moment later he held out his phone to show Tenia’s pic. Everyone leaned in to read.

“…What the hell is ‘under-the-table decoration’ supposed to mean?” Akimi asked.

“That’s what I want to know!”

“Well…this seems like the start of a whole bunch of ‘what the hell is this shit’ shenanigans,” Akemi muttered as she went over the list. “Maybe we’ll get a better idea what the heck any of this is supposed to be once you start getting things.”

“I guess…I see a forest nearby so we’re going to head there first. Come on guys, let’s go.”

Calvina sighed. “This is going to be a long day…”

#super robot wars #citrus can't write #so yeah i tried to upload this last night but then i think tumblr mobile ate the read more when i tried to edit it on my phone #i didn't want to subject everyone in the srw tag to this horrible giant block of text so i just deleted it #anyway to repeat the tags on the original post #i used to have a writing tag but i only had like two things in it #and i totally forgot what it was #i forgot what thought process led me to write this story #i didn't even play dr. quandary's secret island or whatever as a kid #i think i saw a video on it and thought the concept was wacky as fuck #and since i was super into SRW at the time and wanted to write shitty things for it i wrote this? #something like that anyway...

[peanutpinet]

Yuta as a cold yet soft mafia boss

Prompt: 99) “You think prison is the worst place you could go? You pull some shit like that again and I’ll have you thrown in places that’ll make prison seem like a wet fucking dream.” from 100 Dialogue Prompts for Mob Boss AU

A/N: just like the Jeno fic, I've always wanted to do a Yuta fanfic and it wasn't until I saw this writing prompt that I'm like, this feels like something Yuta would say.

Warnings: probably some cursing since it's Yuta XD

Now, we all know how cold and scary Yuta looks when in fact he's a big softie. Which is probably one of the reasons why you fall for him; because of how soft whipped he is with you and the rest of NCT.

Like the boy is very much whipped for you that he would even have time to ask you 'have you eaten', 'what are you up to' while being on a mission. The boys also like to tease him about it, even WayV (who we all know are slightly terrified of him)

Would definitely take you out on a date every now and then if he can. A/N: Kay, hold up, we're getting a bit ahead. I forgot to tell you how y'all met XD

So, it was a school night (well, you're in college); and you were quite stress with your final assignment that you decided to go to the nearest convenience store to grab some coffee and snacks to pull an all-nighter.

You wore an oversize hoodie and some sweats (cause comfort is key) and was walking through the snack aisle, about to grab (your favourite snack) when another hand was about to reach for it (ehem, Yuta, ehem)

Despite wanting to grab the snack, you insist the tall, handsome man to have it instead (even if you were wondering how a guy like him like your fave snack). But the man insist you take the snack; which led to the both of you having a little debate and eventually the man took the snack, paid for it but gave it to you, saying that you needed it more

"Take it. Finals are tough and you need the little boost to keep you going. Also, don't worry so much about the result. What matters is you did your best, mkay? See you around kid" the man lectured, giving you a slight smile before leaving with his own coffee

After he left, it took you a while to process what just happened before going back to your dorm and continue your final assignment

But oh how the universe like to bring people together ;)

It was right after your finals and you and your friends decided to have some drink at a nearby bar since you guys were curious and have never experienced the bar aura.

You weren't much of a drinker despite your amazing tolerance in alcohol so you were rather confused what to order until a familiar sound came.

"She'll have the orange-mango crush" a familiar voice stated

Turning around, you saw the same man you bumped into at the convenience store almost 2 weeks ago but this time, he looked way more put together and even wore a suit. Lowkey, your mind was starting to wander around and thinking whether there was going to be a fight or some sort or if this was that typical mafia story you secretly read.

"Didn't think you'd be the type to come to a bar on a school night. You done with your finals kid?" the man asked

"I, uhh, yea. Wait!! What do you mean the type to come to a bar?" you stuttered; not aware that your friends were staring at the both of you

"Don't worry, I don't mean it like it's a bad thing. People do what they want. Who am I to judge. Anyways, you ladies enjoy your night. If there's any problem, don't hesitate to let me, the bartender or the guards know. Also, the drink is on the house" the man winked at you and your friends, giving a slight wave before leaving

Cue your friends immediately plastering you with all sorts of question. Wondering how you met a handsome hunk in the midst of your finals. Not to mention, that handsome hunk even remembers you. Cue you becoming a blushing mess; especially after the bartender came with the drink the man requested for you.

Though you were worried that the drink was spiked, you gave a little sip and it was all fruity and delicious. Mental note to yourself: not only is he good-looking, kind but also has good taste in food; great, just great.

The rest of the night went fairly nice. You and your friends were sipping on your drinks, having a nice chit-chat bout life in general, catching up since you guys were not in the same classes. Once the clock hit 1 am, you figured that it was time to head back to your dorm.

Since you decided to wait for your friends who were calling an uber to head back to their homes since they live near your college. Whilst waiting, you told your friends that you were going to go to the bathroom for a bit.

Right when you came out of the bathroom, a random man tried to hit on you and it made you very uncomfortable that you eventually hit the wall behind you. But luckily, a certain someone came and save the day ;)

"Oi. Hands off the girl. Looks like someone is new to my bar since I don't accept any sort of make-out if there's no consent between two parties. Scram before I make you" your saviour growled, making the man leave you alone

"Are you alright?" the man asked while you were catching your breath

"Yeah. Yea, I am. Thank you again. Uh..." you mumbled

"What is it? Are you sure you're alright?" the man questioned, worried in his tone

"It's just, you've basically helped me twice and I still have yet to know your name" you chuckled, making the man chuckle as well

"If that's really what you want. I'm Yuta" the man called Yuta chuckled

"Thank you, Yuta. I appreciate it" you thanked him, giving him a genuine smile; not knowing what that smile does to Yuta's heart

And folks, that was just the beginning of your relationship. Ever since that night, Yuta made it his goal to get to know you more before actually asking you in a relationship; which, when the time came and Yuta asked you, without thinking twice, you said yes.

Throughout your relationship, Yuta was pretty blunt in telling you what he does as a living and mentioned that while he may live a dangerous life, he still had morals and his job was actually putting down all the bad people hiding in the shadows.

Despite all, you trusted Yuta and he also trusted you. You still had your freedom and was allowed to go wherever with whoever you wanted as long as you told Yuta beforehand. Even throughout your near one year anniversary, both of you knew each other's friend group and you even get to see how soft Yuta was when it comes to his mates.

However, all those sweet moments you both felt like a dream the second Yuta heard news that you were captured by some lowlife gang that NCT made go broke. Hearing the news, it was only a matter of minutes before the whole NCT used their network to find you and create a well thought out plan to get you back.

Once Yuta got you back, he made sure you were alright whilst the other members lock the gang up in their basement. Yuta made sure that you had no injuries; which, if you do, he would tend them himself and if he can't then he'll have someone come but stay by you until you were alright or, until you fell asleep.

After tucking you into bed and making sure you were fast asleep. Yuta peck your forehead for a moment before quietly sneaking off the bed and out of his room, going down to the basement and confronting the gang with some of the other members.

“You think prison is the worst place you could go? You pull some shit like that again and I’ll have you thrown in places that’ll make prison seem like a wet fucking dream. Now, which one of you nutjobs came up with the idea in the first place?!" Yuta growled, smirking once he saw the gang cower in fear

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this Yuta fic that came out of nowhere XD and hope you all stay safe and healthy :) xoxo

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct yuta #nct 127 yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct yuta scenarios #nct yuta imagines #nct u #nct u scenarios #nct u imagines #nct u yuta #yuta nakamoto scenarios #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto imagines #nct yuta nakamoto #nct mafia #nct mafia fic #nct mafia au

[darleneslover]

i forgot how to submit request but, i hope it’s this.

Mark Hunter x reader where they find out he’s Hard Harry and they end up helping him with the pirate station then ending up dating and the reader meets his parents. basically fluff and a little angst :) thanks❤️

tysm for requesting! i loved writing this and the whole concept! sadly im going to separate this in two parts since the story ended up being kinda long, i really hope you don't mind and ill try my best to upload the part 2 soon

summary: reader wants to know Hard Harry's identity and in the process he meets mark (short summary to avoid spoilers) (fluff x angst)

"radio confessions"

You always liked playing detective and when “hard harry” started to be popular you made your own personal mission to find out who he was, you kinda admired him, the way he questioned authority and wasn’t afraid to play dumb exited you and listening to him made you feel rebellious almost like if you were part of something exiting and new. You tried discovering his identity for weeks now and while you had your suspicions you weren’t quite sure about his true identity yet but that didn’t slow you down in fact you were more motivated than ever

monday 8am

Class was about to start, you sat down in your desk and right when you were putting your headphones in, a classmate approached you, it was Mark, you stopped the music and he asked;

“hey um.. sorry to interrupt you but is it okay if we sat together? i mean i can find another desk if you want me to but uh-“

“of course!” you interrupted him

“thank you i uh- don’t know many people and you seem friendly so i decided to take my chances you know?” he said nervous

“i’m glad you did” you said confident

you two chatted all class and the teacher called you out a couple of time but that didn’t stop the both of you to talk and get to know each other.

the day went by and you didn’t saw mark until the exit where he very nervously approached you to ask if you would like to stop by his house and chat

“sure! we can order takeout or something and watch a movie” you said happily

he agreed and you two walked to mark’s home casually stopping because you couldn’t walk without laughing at each other’s jokes once you arrived you met his parents who were casually dinning in the living room

“what are you guys doing here? i thought you would arrive later” he said pissed off

“well our plans got canceled so we just went home, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” his mom asked smiling at you

“right uh their name is (y/n) and they are a friend for school, we are going to be downstairs and i would really appreciate if you guys could leave us alone” he said embarrassed

“sure kiddo just don’t make a mess” his dad joked

Mark grabbed your hand embarrassed and led you to his bedroom

“sorry about that, my folks have no concept of boundaries or privacy whatsoever i thought they weren’t home and-”

“oh it’s okay mark! they seem cool! there’s no need to be embarrassed! now changing the subject.. pizza or Chinese food? ” you asked

“pizza of course” he said

the food arrived and everything was just perfect, he introduced you to his lizard and you talked/laughed all evening but suddenly his attitude changed, he started to get nervous and couldn’t stop looking at the clock

“shit it’s late, i think you should go now, you can’t stay im sorry please go” he said anxiously

“right.. well see you tomorrow i guess” you said disappointed since you didn’t expect him to kick you out that way

you left and he didn’t even had the audacity to walk you to the door his parents said how sorry they were and wished you a safe way home

since you didn’t lived particularly near you decided to listen to your portable radio in your way home you noticed that hard harry’s show was about to start so you tuned in

“good evening students and social rejects it’s me hard harry and today we will read a anonymous submission that goes like this: “today i met someone who i was deeply interested in and uh things were going well for me, somehow they decided to keep talking to me and we even spent the afternoon together but since i have some type of self revenge complex i kicked them out of my house, what should i do? ” that was really a bad move huh? i would explain to them if i were you that you deeply regret your decision and that you would do whatever it took to take that back and spend the rest of the night with them. i would uhh tell them how much you appreciate them and how special they make you feel but uh you know that’s what i would do if i were you” he said with a sad tone voice, he cleared his throat and added “so uh let’s start with our music selection for today, okay? enjoy this song called “why can’t i fall in love” by ivan neville, a personal favorite”.'

suddenly everything clicked, mark kicked you out to start the program and he was reading his own story, you couldn’t help but laugh because of how cheesy that sounds but it only took a second for you to realize that you had to talk with him so without a doubt you ran back to his house and sneaked into his backyard that luckily led to his room, he saw you and opened the door.

“what are you doing here? i mean i’m glad you are here i just wanted to say how sorry i am for kicking you out and i wish i could explain but” he said

you interrupted him once again and said

“it’s okay, i know and while i would have appreciated not being kicked out of your house i listened to your show and i just knew. honestly i don’t know how i didn’t figure your identity earlier but i’m glad it was you, i’m glad that hard harry was even better in real life” you finished by kissing him, he did the same while picking you up and leaving both of you in his couch

“i’m really sorry, i-I was a total asshole and i don’t deserve your forgiveness but fuck (y/n) i’m crazy about you, i knew you were onto me and it was incredibly hard for me to not tell you it was me but i guess i was afraid that your would only like me as hard harry and not mark. today i finally got the courage to sit next to you only to discover how amazing you are and that only made me more afraid to disappoint you” he said looking at you with a sad puppy face

“there are so many things i could say right now but there’s only one right thing to do” you said right before kissing him like the world was ending you wanted him as much as he wanted you and you both knew that.

after spending all night making out, laughing and talking you sneaked back to your house around 6am so your parents wouldn’t worry, thankfully they didn’t and in the morning nobody brought it up (including your obvious hickeys). you walked to school as usual and met mark on your way, he was grabbing a white rose and a card that said “i’m sorry, would you still date me?” he handed you the card and you immediately said yes you kissed him and hold hands all the way to school.

#mark hunter x reader #christian slater #fanfic #mark hunter fanfic #pump up the volume

[kyotarou]

title: a little more noise

pairing: kyōtani kentarō x gn!reader

synopsis: in a world of constant silence, he’s the noise you need in life, even if he’s a bit quiet.

warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, lotta tropes and cliches, two swear words if i counted correctly

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: i wrote this in two days which i’m very proud of, go me! always wanted to write a kyōken fic and here it is. kinda scared to post this bc he’s quite tough to characterize imo and i’m terrible at writing longer pieces. oh well :,) no indentation because that’d be such a pain. hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated! (this is also my first time writing slowburn so please lmk if it’s still too fast)

Your parents were not bad people—that was a fact. They were kind, and you did everything an ordinary family would; eat dinner together, go on trips, attend school events. Things were quiet, a little too quiet for comfort. It never felt… right. You heard stories of parents arguing, nasty divorces, and custody battles. They tore your friends apart, made them feel a pain you could never understand. You knew how terrible it was, yet sometimes you wished you went through that to fill the silence in your home. The same monotonous, “good mornings,” and “hellos,” became sickening to hear. You told yourself to push on until after graduation where you’d escape. As the years dragged on, you weren’t so sure you could keep your sanity intact.

It was how you met Kyōtani Kentarō, a second-year from your school who was in a different class. Your friend told you of a gym nearby that was secluded at night. With a sly grin, he said he met up with students from other schools to smoke, and sometimes as a hookup spot. You wrinkled your nose at his comment and flicked his forehead. These were the people you hung out with; not so bright, but easygoing and fun. They were the ones who satisfied the need for noise, the bit of excitement in your life.

You snuck out after your parents had gone to bed. It didn’t hit until halfway through your walk that several things could happen. You were alone with nothing to defend yourself with except your phone and bare hands. Looking down at your outfit, an old dark hoodie and some sweats, you hoped it was ominous enough to ward people away. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to go home and wallow in its emptiness.

To see the lights on in the gym was a surprise. Upon closer inspection, you heard the squeaking of shoes and the cannon-like sounds of balls slamming the floor. You peeked your head through the door. The only person inside was a boy, no older than you. The first thing you noticed was his oddly dyed hair which resembled a tennis ball. The second was his piercing gaze as he turned his head and stared at you. You jumped. He looked as though he was going to charge at you. Instead, the boy huffed, walked to the other side of the gym, and picked up the ball. You spotted a familiar white and blue jacket on the ground.

“Seijoh?”

The boy turned to you again. “Yeah.” His voice was low, but powerful enough to rumble the earth.

You swallowed. “I go there, too.” This was a waste of time, you thought. You should’ve gone home, and you almost did until he spoke again.

“Never seen you before.”

The ball flew into the air with the boy tailing it. His body bent in a way you didn’t think was possible, face pinched in concentration. It hit his hand then the ground with the loudest smacks you had ever heard. It was incredible, but also scary. He picked up another ball behind him and did the same, and again, and again, until his side was empty and yours was strewn with several blue and yellow volleyballs. The more you watched, the more mesmerized you became.

“Can I stay?” You felt stupid for asking, but if he was trying to concentrate, you didn’t want to disturb him. Surprisingly, he nodded. You sank to the floor with your knees to your chest and listened to the constant thwacks and smacks all night.

You only learned his name a little while after. It was by accident. You were walking by a group of boys at school when one of them called him Mad Dog-chan, and you bit your lip to stop your laughter. Luckily, they didn’t notice. It was kind of cute the more you thought about it. It fit his appearance quite well, too. That night, you found him at the gym once again. Instead of a curt nod, you waved.

“Hey, Mad Dog-chan!”

You immediately regretted your words when he stopped bouncing the ball and flashed you a murderous look. You muttered a hurried apology and sat on the floor in your usual spot. He whacked a ball a couple of times then came over to grab his water bottle. After a few quick gulps, you expected him to get back on the court, but he stared at the spot beside you.

“It’s Kyōtani. Kyōtani Kentarō.”

Some nights, he didn’t practice. You sat in a playground nearby with soda and snacks from home. Originally, they were meant to replenish his energy when he overworked himself. Now, you were the one eating most of them, with Kyōtani nibbling on a custard bun as you wolfed down chip bag after chip bag. One thing you could say with confidence was Kyōtani was a great listener. At first, you sat in awkward silence. Then, you started rattling off all the things you did that day. It led to you talking about anything and everything, including the funny-looking dog you saw on the street last week. You hoped he didn’t think he reminded you of it.

Talking to Kyōtani was equivalent to talking to a wall. If anything, you were talking at him. He barely looked your way, and if you asked a question, he responded with a grunt or a simple, “Yeah.” Even though you wished it was two-sided, it felt good. You could finally break the silence that shrouded you for years, something you yearned to do but never had the confidence to. With Kyōtani, because of how quiet he was, you felt you could say anything without judgment. You did this for a while, rambling to him in the playground while he sat and listened.

Together, you sat on the swings with fruit sandwiches you made earlier that day. Your feet dragged against the sand and dirt as you swung back and forth. It seemed like Kyōtani enjoyed it. You noticed him eyeing your sandwich while licking his lips. You laughed and handed the rest to him. You started your daily tangent; woke up, ate a meat bun for breakfast, went to school, did homework, then came here. Somewhere along the way, you mentioned how you were home alone since your parents had lots of meetings to attend. You wished it was a little more lively. It was why you left the house every night, to find some noise in the suffocating void of it all.

You talked some more about your family, which you never did. You were too distracted to see Kyōtani’s head perk up. He stopped munching on the fruit sandwich and leaned forward, trying to look at your face. You continued to ramble, feeling your irritation slowly rise.

“Am I a bad person? I mean, they’re really nice, and I adore them. But it’s unbearable sometimes, and then I end up feeling like an asshole.”

You let out a dry laugh, ignoring the pain of the metal chains holding up the swing as they dug into your palms. You pressed your lips together in a thin line, unsure of what to say next. You chose to draw circles in the sand with the tip of your shoe.

“I understand how you feel.”

You looked at Kyōtani in surprise. You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. The night felt a little brighter.

The last thing your “friends” expected was for you to ditch them for him. “Looks like a tennis ball,” one of them said. You chuckled since it was your exact thought when you first met him. You were relieved but also disheartened when they didn’t seem to mind too much. At least you knew where they stood. 

Hanging out with Kyōtani was much different compared to your nights at the gym or the playground. You got lots of stares from the third-years who never thought he could behave like this. Some people in your class whispered about the two lone-wolves banding together. You pretended not to hear.

“You’ve been cheery lately.”

You stared at your mother, trying to process her words. They never asked about you, which you grew to appreciate. It meant not having to force out a conversation. You almost brushed it aside until she spoke again. Your chin rested in your palm as you picked the vegetables on your plate, stomach full with snacks.

“I met a new friend.”

Your mother raised her brows, impressed. “Oh? Tell me about him.”

“How do you know he’s a boy?”

“Just a hunch.”

You sighed, continuing to stir your food. “He’s quiet. A little weird, but he’s nice. I can talk to him about anything.”

“That’s good.”

Your father glanced at her, and she shot him a strange look. Don’t, it said. He backed off and ate as if nothing happened.

You managed to weave yourself with the other boys from the volleyball team. They were a scary bunch at first, most of them glaring at Kyōtani the moment he walked through the door, but they were nice to you. He had left his jacket at the playground one night, and you made a mental note to return it to him the next day. Except, like Kyōtani, you also forgot about it. When you saw the boys flood to the gym for practice, you raced home then back to school and shyly followed a group of girls to the gym who were there to gawk at the captain.

During their break, you nervously approached Kyōtani and poked his shoulder. They watched you return his jacket but didn’t expect his, “Thank you,” afterward. When you left, Oikawa bugged him to invite you back. Kyōtani shrugged. He usually ignored him at all costs. Oikawa took it as a good sign.

Hanging out with them was a lot more fun than you anticipated. They were better than your previous friends, and even though most of them didn’t like Kyōtani, they seemed to be warming up. Your favorite moment was the movie night at Oikawa’s house. The living room was packed, with little room to wiggle, but it was comfortable. That night, you laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and the tensions between you, Kyōtani, and the rest of the boys dissolved. You belonged here.

Yahaba caught him staring at you outside your classroom. You sat across from another classmate, helping her with a few assignments for her art class. You posed and let her take pictures. Some were silly, but the others captured your features perfectly. In one of them, you rested your cheek in your palm with the tip of your pencil wedged between your teeth. You looked at the camera through your lashes as your classmate continued to snap more shots.

“Cool it.” Yahaba clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Never said you were.”

You helped your classmate pack her things. While you followed her out the door, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. You bid her goodbye as her friends called her over, then turned to Kyōtani and Yahaba. 

“Ready to go?”

Yahaba nodded, as did Kyōtani. You walked ahead of them, listing off that day’s menu. Behind you, Kyōtani’s eyes zeroed in on your moving form, the shift of your hips as you took each step. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was honing in on a kill. Yahaba prodded his arm.

“Don’t be a pervert.”

You swore you heard a slap.

Friday after school, your parents were home from work much earlier than anticipated. A game show played on the television. They barely noticed your arrival until you called out. The TV turned off, and your mother looked over the back of the sofa with a wry smile. Your father drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. His eyes stayed glued to the empty screen.

“Welcome back,” your mother greeted. She glanced at the boxes in the kitchen, filled with old plates and cutlery you hadn’t touched in a while. You assumed they were throwing them out.

“So…” she drawled. “What do you think of Tokyo?”

“Tokyo?”

Your hands shook as you set your school bag down on the kitchen table. The boxes made more sense. You remembered your father talking about a school his friend’s son attended. Nekoma, was it? He told you how great it was there, that it’d be easy to make friends in such a populated area.

“Tokyo…” you repeated. A heavy lump formed in your throat. “It seems… nice. Why do you ask?” You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice. Your mother caught on too.

“Dad’s company moved areas. It’s a big shift, but it’s too good to lose. So-”

“We’re moving.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were about to.” 

Your head hung over the table. There was a crushing weight in your chest. Of course they wouldn’t tell you. They never did. It was too much to not expect this betrayal. If you told them how happy you were at Seijoh, maybe things would’ve been different. I could’ve prevented this. You shook your head. You couldn’t stop an entire company from moving, nor could you convince your father to find a new job in Miyagi. You had to follow them like you always did.

“If we can stay, we will, but most likely-”

“I’ll start packing.”

You grabbed your school bag and stomped to your room, vision obscured by your tears. Why now? Why did it have to be when you were starting to fit in, when you found real friends who made you happier than ever? Just when things looked like they were turning around, you were back at square one. You’d be there for a while, stuck in a new city far away from Seijoh. If you were with your old group, you wouldn’t have been this upset. But to not see them again—Yahaba, Hanamaki, even Oikawa.

You opened your phone and stared at the lock screen: a picture of you and Kentarō from the movie night at Oikawa’s. His arm was slung over your shoulder, a scowl on his face, but the peace sign he held up made it worth it. You remembered taking it and everyone gasping that Kentarō would even allow anyone to take a picture of him, let alone save it. Your heart fluttered. When did he stop being Kyōtani and become Kentarō?

Kentarō faced the empty playground. He sat in the right swing as he always did, scanning the area for any sign of you. In his hand was his attempt at a fruit sandwich, messily covered in cellophane with whipped cream oozing between the bread. A bandaid wrapped the tip of his finger where he accidentally cut himself. Damn those strawberries.

Kentarō kicked at the dirt. He waited, and waited some more, but after twenty minutes, you didn’t show. He pulled out his phone and sent you a quick text. Your absence made his skin crawl. His phone lit up with a response. Sorry, was all you said.

He couldn’t shake the heaviness as he trudged home.

The view outside the window gave you an excuse to be distracted. The voices of the boys were loud, but you chose to focus on the birds circling the courtyard. Two of them swooped down and landed on the thick branch of an old tree. They ruffled their feathers and nuzzled their beaks. You saw your old friends walk out of the main building. The one who introduced you to the gym glanced up. His eyes met yours momentarily. He went back to talking to someone you didn’t recognize and led them to the other side of the campus.

You stared out the window until Mattsun shook your shoulder. You turned and put on a faux smile. Your classwork was still strewn across your desk even though it was lunch. A few drops of chili sauce had landed on your math homework. You scowled at Hanamaki, his face stuffed with food.

“Oops.”

You wiped it off with an eye roll then stuffed it into your bag along with your other notebooks.

“What’s buggin’ ya?” Mattsun asked. 

You shrugged. “Nothing. I’m ready for the day to end.” It was the last thing you wanted. There was a bit of time before you left for Tokyo, but the countdown moved fast. You ignored Mattsun’s opposing look and ate. They couldn’t know yet.

Kentarō knew there was more than what met the eye, but he bit his tongue. He was paranoid, he told himself. The guilty look on your face as the boys laughed, unaware of the shift in attitude, said otherwise. He threw his arm over the back of your chair. You relaxed, but the sad look remained. Remembering the fruit sandwich he made, Kentarō grabbed it from his bag and slid it across your desk. You raised your brows.

“What’s this?”

“I made it.”

You unwrapped the sticky mess of whipped cream and strawberry jam. Kentarō watched you take a small bite, followed by a bigger one.

“This is delicious!”

He showed you the tip of his finger. “The price I paid for it.”

Your knees knocked against his under your desk. He flinched. You pressed your finger to your lips, then to the bandaid. “Thank you. Hope it feels better.”

Your cheeks swelled as you took more bites than you could chew. Pink syrup stuck to the corner of your mouth. Cute, Kentarō thought.

“What was that?” you mumbled. A crumb lodged itself in your throat. Mattsun rushed over and slapped you so hard on the back it echoed. A handful of other students looked over. Hanamaki scolded you for gulping down your bottle of water without taking any breaths. Kentarō cheeks turned a darker shade than the strawberries when you gripped his arm for support. You didn’t ask again.

“Cute,” he whispered anyway. He knew you wouldn’t hear over Mattsun’s teasing. “You’re cute.”

Kentarō invited you to the movies. He planned on having it at home, but his parents occupied the TV, and his laptop was too small to enjoy anything. He met you at a plaza a walking distance’s away. He let you pick the movie, curious about your tastes. Action? Romcom? When he looked at his ticket, it was for the latest horror movie. Critics raved about it, calling it the best of the decade. Impressive.

The movie started a while ago. The critics were right, it was scary, a lot scarier than he expected. You enjoyed it like a comedy movie, clapping your hand over your mouth when the entire theater shrieked at the killer, including Kentarō.

“You’re a sadist,” he whispered.

“Am not, just think it’s funny.”

He shook his head. Another jumpscare happened, this time worse than before. Several people jolted in their seats and bits of popcorn flew into the air. Kentarō didn’t realize he had sank into his seat—your seat, actually—until you nudged his foot with yours.

“Scared?” Your breath was warm against his ear.

“Sorry.”

You patted his hand which clutched the armrest with a vice grip. Kentarō’s heart beat faster.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m right here.”

The movie ended and the lights switched on. People left the theater with wobbly legs and pale faces. You headed to the exit holding your empty cups and popcorn bags with Kentarō in tow. He wished the movie was longer. Not because he enjoyed it, but because the smile on your face made it worth it.

Your room was bare besides your bed and desk. Most of your stuff was packed neatly in the many cardboard boxes piled inside your now empty closet. It’d been a few weeks since that Friday, and you still hadn’t told Kentarō or any of the boys. You weren’t sure how to break the news. He noticed how clingy you became, tailing him wherever he went at school. Not that he minded. You talked less at the playground. It was him who filled the silence instead, though his daily recaps weren’t as interesting as yours.

Next week was the last with Kentarō. In your shaky hands was an envelope, the edges indented from how hard you gripped it. You took out the letter inside, read it over, then slipped it back in. You thought about sealing it for the umpteenth time that day. Before your tongue swiped against the flap, you quickly scanned over the letter once more as if the words would disappear. You’d seal it later, you told yourself.

Your over-the-top cheeriness was so evident it was painful. They asked what was up, and you said you were simply having a good day. Kentarō knew better than that. At lunch, when you were away from everyone else, he prodded your shoulder and asked what was wrong. You frowned at him, then smiled.

“Everything's fine.”

Before he could probe further, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the cafeteria.

“There’s chicken! It’s your favorite, right?”

Something slipped out of your pocket. Kentarō thought it was your school notes. He bent down to pick it up and saw it was a white envelope, unsealed. You were already gone, dragged away by his teammates. He didn’t want to pry, but curiosity got the best of him. Turning the other direction, he grabbed the note inside. His name at the top caught his eye.

Dear Kyōken-chan,

He snorted.

Sorry for not telling you this sooner. I’m still trying to process this too.

A crease formed on his forehead as he squinted. The letter was quite long, the handwriting messy. He repeated the phrases in his head over and over, but he couldn’t fully understand what they meant. He flipped it to the back and sighed when there was more. He decided to scan it this time, except a handful of words made him reread it in depth.

“Kentarō!” In your arms were several wrapped buns from the cafeteria. He tried to stuff the note into his pocket, but you already saw.

“Oh.” The buns fell to the ground. “Oh no.”

Kentarō’s face was a mix of frustration and hurt. The hand holding the letter shook, the other balled in a fist. You wanted to run, but if you moved, you swore you’d collapse.

“(Y/N),” he murmured. “What is this?”

A weary laugh escaped your lips. “Um. Can we go somewhere else?”

Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the school’s courtyard.

“One week,” he huffed.

“One week.”

You sat beneath a large, shady tree in the farthest corner away from the main building. Kentarō rubbed his temple and sighed. He held onto your letter. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“For how long?”

“Probably forever. Not literally, but it’ll feel like it.”

“So you’re graduating from Nekoma?”

You nodded. Kentarō tapped his knuckles against his cheek.

“Wished you told me sooner.”

You blinked at him wearily. “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head then turned away. You grew quiet for a moment. He took it as his chance to butt in.

“So, you like me?”

“It’s all in the letter.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You looked away. Your hands were clammy, and the air felt ten times hotter. The word you used was stronger, much stronger than he anticipated. It made his cheeks burn and a smile threatened to pull at his lips. He wanted to hear it come to life.

“I love you, Kentarō.”

It sounded sweet, almost tooth-rotting sweet. Kentarō chewed the inside of his cheek. He liked you, he really did. He just wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to say it. Would there be a right moment? After this week, you’d be in Tokyo in another school—a rival school, to make matters worse. He wanted his words to hold weight, and in that moment, they didn’t. Not as much as he wished.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand.”

“I do.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the bell cut you off. Kentarō hoisted himself from the ground then held his hand out. His palm was rough under yours, but his touch was gentle. Once you got to your feet, you let go, but he kept his pinky locked with yours.

Friday arrived quickly. Sadness filled the air as you said your goodbyes, thanking your classmates and teachers for the short, but pleasant year. After school, the team led you to the gym with your eyes covered. The boys’ gym was decorated with a banner and a table with food. There was even a cake, the word Seijoh iced and crossed out on top. You let out a hearty laugh before inviting the boys to dig in.

“Of course,” said Oikawa. “I paid for it.”

On one side, Mattsun smeared frosting over Hanamaki’s cheek. On the other, Oikawa tried to spoon-feed Iwaizumi only to be smacked on the head. You sat on the floor next to Kentarō and looked around with a big smile. His thumb reached out to wipe a dollop of frosting from the corner of your mouth. The phrase, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” held up its end of the bargain. When you looked outside, the sun had begun to set.

You thanked your friends, took one last photo, and managed to hold in your tears until your walk home. You promised to visit and to cheer them on at nationals, even if you were on Nekoma’s side. They laughed, waved with sad smiles, then watched you leave.

Kentarō caught up with you a third of the way home. His hand slipped into yours, a habit he recently picked up. It wouldn’t last much longer. You stopped a few houses down from yours. You didn’t want to let go, not yet.

You learned many things this year. One, life wasn’t fair. It never was. Two, people weren’t as shitty as you thought, proven in your new friendships. Three, seeing Kentarō cry made your heart ache in a way you never wanted to feel again. His head fell against your shoulder with a hard thump, tears soaking through the uniform you’d wear for the last time. You rubbed his back and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

“Stay,” he pleaded.

“I wish I could.”

“Please don’t go.”

“I have to.”

Kentarō looked up through his watery lashes. Your lips connected. Who initiated it was a mystery. His kiss was slow but fervent. You leaned in, deepening it until you swore your teeth clashed. Kentarō’s hands rested on your hips, yours on the nape of his neck. His kisses were magnetizing, drawing you closer with each movement. You broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together. He still had tears in his eyes, and so did you. You stayed like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms until you knew you had to let go.

“Call me everyday, please,” he whispered.

“I promise. I swear on my life.” 

You kissed him again. 

“Goodbye, Kentarō. I love you.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll be waiting.”

“So will I.”

Kentarō didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You knew he loved you, proven by his daily text messages and calls thereafter. Even if it only lasted a couple of seconds, you never missed a day. Sometimes, you heard his teammates' voices in the background. The audio would become crackly before a new voice replaced your boyfriend’s: Mattsun, Yahaba, Oikawa, and even Iwaizumi. 

Boyfriend. The fact made your stomach fill with butterflies. Kentarō was yours, and you were his.

It’d been months since you last saw him in person. You finished your second-year at Nekoma, a school that welcomed you with open arms. You met lots of people, found new friends, but the boys from Seijoh never left your mind. The picture you took hung on the wall of your new bedroom, a space you were still getting used to. Summer vacation was here, and you promised to come home to Miyagi for a week or two. On the train, you checked your phone to see how many kilometers were left. Just a few more minutes.

When it came to a halt, you burst from your seat, duffle bag in tow. You sent Kentarō a text, only to be face-to-face with him the moment the doors opened. You leapt into his arms, knocking him back a few steps. His chin rested on your shoulder as you hugged, swaying side to side.

“I missed you so much, Ken.”

“Missed you, too.”

Your fingers clasped around his, resting perfectly in the dips between his knuckles. Hopefully, he hadn’t dropped his habit. The months you were apart flew by, but they were also the longest you had ever witnessed. Seeing Kentarō for the first time in a while felt like a breath of cool, fresh air.

You tugged on his wrist, ready to head to town. He stayed put.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

He grinned shyly at you. Kentarō brought color into your dull life, your source of noise in the thick silence. The summer wouldn’t forever, and you had another year left to endure. But as long as he was there, even kilometers away, you’d get through it together.

#hqradiostation #kyoutani kentarou #kentaro kyotani #kentarou x reader #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani kentaro x reader #kentarou kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x you #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani kentarou x you #kyoutani kentarou x reader #kyoutani kentaro x you #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu oneshot #kyoutani kentarou oneshot #kyoutani fanfic #hq kyoutani #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #kyoutani kentarou fanfiction #kyoutani kentaro fanfiction #mad dog

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt. 1

request: mine, my brain made me write this

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

sinopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought.

Pt. 1- Introduction. Your fan meet

Basically every couple of months you like to organize small get-togethers with your supporters as a way to have a closer contact with them, to get to know them, as a fanservice and to just thank them in a way. Lately you have been noticing one specific group of fan pages dedicated to you who have been really interactive and supportive on twitter; 

promoting your latest music video and the recent EPISODE of: y/n’s camera roll uploaded to your oficial platforms (your team uploaded a weekly video=episode to your channel; almost like Run BTS. Each episode had a different theme and your fans loved it)  this group of fan pages is constantly on your main page, so you decided to contact them and fly them out for a day in L.A. for one of your infamous meets so you could meet them.

You don't normally film your fan meetings, they are normally just a one on one gatherings between you and your fans,  but your team thought it could be a good idea to record today’s meet and upload parts of it for your weekly EPISODE, these were greatly appreciated by your international fans and other fans who wanted to see a little more into your personal life.

You were currently hanging out with the small group of fans you invited over. A group of around 10 boys and girls were currently sitting on the fluffy carpeted floor and some were sitting on plush chairs randomly spread in front of you. (a/n i imagine this setting like the Zach Sang Show, for the Ariana Grande interview episodes) 

You were sitting in front of them on a small white couch for two. Once everyone was comfortably settled in, you introduced yourself and invited the others to do so as well, one by one telling you their name, username, pronouns, age, and fun facts about them. You smiled wide, happy to be able to meet such amazing people and also making mental notes to remember their names and facts. 

After the personal introductions your camera crew was set up and ready to start, you told your fans sitting in front of you about how today's meet was going to be recorded and asked for their consent to upload said video; and then proceed to open for the camera; 

“Hello everyone welcome to another episode of…. f** I don't even know what we call these videos, jajajaja” 

Your fans sitting in front of you stated the name of the youtube series in a heartbeat;

“Wait what?... jajajajaja omg guys thank you, I'm so sorry, yeah you heard them, welcome back to y/n’s camera roll, I can’t believe I forgot that, anyway today’s episode is a little different……” you proceed to explain what the episode was about and thanking the future viewers for tuning in and watching the video. “Waw what a long introduction, so, before we actually go on and have the meet while you guys at home enjoy, I want to introduce you to the lovely group of people who I have invited here today….” Again proceed to introduce your fans to the camera by name, trying to not miss anyone and not butcher any name in the process.

After the introduction is done you porcede to carry out the fan meet like you normally do, you normally have scheduled sections of activities during your meets to make them fun; For today’s meet you all played games and did a couple challenges with your fans; then you recorded a couple of tik toks and instagram stories your fans asked you to be in, and casually all hung out. After a while of comfortable chatting and laughter, you wanted to hype up the mood. You turned down the lights, turned on some color  LED lights and had a dance party with everyone invited, dancing and going all out to popular music.

After being all drained from the heavy physical activities, you ordered a variety of food for your fans, like pizza and pasta, sushi, tacos, snacks, etc. and had a muckbang/eating section for the episode as well.

You were having so much fun, you looked around while eating and just by looking at their excited and happy faces you couldn help but feel complete and thankful for all of your fans.

After filling up on food, you carried out the Q&A section of the meet, allowing fans to ask you personal questions and conversing on various topics. The camera director gave you instructions to proceed with the questions, you nodded and thanked him and the staff for their hard work, turning on your heel and sitting back in your spot you tuned to the main camera: “Hi, quick update, sorry I haven't been so interactive with the camera in this episode for everyone watching at home, but I have been having so much fun and I am not used to having a camera crew for my normal fan meets, I’m sorry. Anyway now we will move on, I am going to answer some questions and hopefully this is entertaining enough  for the EPISODE hahaha” the crew and fans present chucked as you finished the small interruption.

And the questions began. A girl sitting in the back, raised her hand and spoke; “yeah um, I’m sorry I wanted to  see if I could start the questions, idk if the others are okay with that”. The rest of the group nodded sweetly at her, others replied with short “yeah’s”. She then proceeded nervously “thankyou g-guys, um I’m sorry before my question, is there anything we cannot ask you or..?

You sweetly smiled at her shyness and consideration, you tried your best to make her comfortable, “You are so cute, hahaha, thankyou for being considerate, but I really can’t think of anything that I am not allowed to answer or talk about, let me ask my manager...do I Sam?” you shifted your upper body to the side where the crew was standing, your manager Sam shook his head, you don't really have any tea to be spilled anyway so he is pretty confident and comfortable allowing you to be 100% in control. 

“Okay if Sam says it’s cool, it's okay  jajaja. You can ask me anything”

The girl then proceeded to ask her question, and waited for you to answer.

Time went by, and it was pretty cool to see what your fans were interested in learning about you, after some time the group continued asking you questions like “who is your biggest inspiration? favorite song?, favorite thing about being on tour? what would you do if you weren't a singer? etc.

One of the boys in the group spoke; “Hi, y/n, can I ask you another question?” you nodded and signaled him to proceed; 

“I saw that you liked an instagram post about BTS a while back uploaded by a fan account and I also saw that you actually follow their personal twitter account. ALSO in your behind the scenes video for your music video shoot you can be seen in the background dancing the Boy with luv choreo. So I wanted to ask if you were an ARMY and if you know them personally? and like should we be expecting a collaboration soon?”

You chucked at his talking speed, curious questions and great detective skills.

 Before you answered you mentally told yourself to hold back and not go all cRAzY fAnGirL on them, you inhaled and answered:

“OMG hahaha I love you so much, what an amazing question, Okay so first off no I don’t know them personally and sadly no plans of collaboration are on sight. Oh wow I have never been asked if I liked BTS before, I’m excited hahaha. Yeah I am an ARMY, I love them so much I am one of their biggest fans, and they are also one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to work ethic and professionalism, listening to them or watching them gives me motivation to keep doing what I love, which is this. 

anyway I am rambling I should stop; you guys can say y/n stop whenever I start rambling okay? hahaha''

The group in front of you laughed and added some extra comments on your response.

After a couple comments back and forth you realized something… and asked out loud, 

“Wait so, how many of you guys here are actually ARMYs?”, 

all of the sudden the 10 fans sitting in front of you raised their hands. 

“So you guys are telling me literally everyone of you is a fellow ARMY and didn't tell me until now?” everyone chuckled and looked around surprises at the coincidence 

You were already feeling shy after talking so much about yourself before so you redirected the activity, “Guys should we actually talk about BTS for a bit? hahaha” you asked your fans

This made a girl raise her hand and ask: “Can I ask you a BTS question then? Okay so, who is your favorite member?

You loved the new conversation topic. You answered truthfully: “Well first off, I don't have a favorite member. I really mean it when I say this. I love them all equally and I love them all as a group. I don’t prefer one over the other or like one better.  I really do support them equally. I mean there is nothing wrong with having a bias, as long as you also respect the other members, hope that all made sense lol” Everyone seemed moved by your support towards them and nodded.

“Y/n so you don’t have a favorite, but do you have a crush on any of them?, like if you could date one of them right now, which one do you pick?” A fan asked.

You looked at her and really thought about how to answer said question in the best way possible; “okay...well...Like I said just to be clear I don't have favorites amongst the group members, but I do have a type…. I consider one of them to be my celebrity crush” you answered, starting out slow and finishing by blurting out the last part.

Your fans in front of you went crazy, they leaned over their seats wanting to feel closer to you and not miss anything you were saying as you took a breath to continue speaking.

“So in that case, if I had to pick someone that I would date in real life...i would say…. Jungkook'' The room was filled with surprised remarks, small comments and squeals.

“Omg guys chill hahaha, breathe, it's just a crush I don’t know him and it's not going to happen. It's just that I find him really attractive and he is my type.”

The fans kept raising their hands to ask you various questions about BTS,

the camera director and manager signaled you to get your attention after you finished answering other questions and told you you only had time for one more question before the fan meet was over.

“Okay guys so apparently we have time for one more question, so make it a good one, it can be about anything, shoot” you said as you leaned over to reach for your water bottle, swung the bottle and pointed to someone on the corner of your eye who seemed to have one last question, as you drank some water they asked: “I have a last BTS question if you don’t mind y/n” 

Still gulping water you moved your hand indicating them that is was okay and to go on,

“okay, um I just thought about this, do you have like a specific fantasy or make up scenario about BTS that you could only dream could come true; like I wish i could walk into a café shop and suddenly meet V, realizing we were reading the same book and covering for hours”

That was such a deep and personal question, you had never once thought anyone would be interested in what your fantasies where; you thought it might be boring for your fans if you went on and on about  stupid make believe scenarios that live in your head rent free. But seeing everyones approving faces over the question and the intrigued eyes they were shooting at you, you spoke: “I love that question, and your scenario is so cute, you should write a tumblr post about it, (a/n wink wink) well yeah I obviously have created fake scenarios in my head about BTS, past crushes, fake arguments even hahaha, there are so many BTS fake scenarios in my head…. hmm oh I know which one, okay so this fantasy of mine is about how I would meet them irl and work with them, I will make it quick”

You kinda chuckled at yourself, playing with the cap on your water bottle, you felt as if you were about to say something really cringy and embarrassing. You took a deep breath and started the narration of the sinopsis of your personal fanfic created by you. 

“Okay so, my literal fantasy is to one day meet them at a talk show, you know how hosts like will surprise their guests with something/someone they like?, I believe Ellen has done it multiple times where she surprised a guest with their idol or celebrity crush, you know?” The group nodded, invested in your fake scenario “Well i would be invited to like the Jimmy Fallon Show, where he would just randomly surprise me with BTS. Then I would be given the opportunity to introduce myself and tell them how much I love and support them. I would also be able to show them my Korean speaking skills, I learned Korean and Spanish back in school and I have never been able to actually use either them, lol, anyway...well after that we would all become really good friends, and we would collaborate and put out one or multiple songs for you guys. I mean that's basically it, I wish I could meet them, and become their friend and write songs with them, even produce songs with Suga or RM if I could'' you sighed as you ended your mini narration.

You continued; “But well, that's just a fake scenario I repeat, it's not real and it's not gonna happen, EVER. For now I will keep supporting and loving them with you and the rest of ARMY. I really doubt they even know who I am, anyway” you closed the conversation at that. Your fans seemed like they wanted to say something but your camera director called you over before anyone could say something else. You excuse yourself and walk over to the cameras and lights set up where the staff is.

*your fans were really confused, and this you didn't know, but your fans knew for a fact that BTS knew very well who you were. The fans even knew which member has continuously admitted to having a platonic crush on you for years now, ever since you first blew up, back when you were 16 and he was 17. Your fans knew how you are one of BTS’s favorite artists, and this was no secret, you could literally look all this information up... 

They didn’t understand how you could have no idea how famous you actually are* They talked amongst themselves about this while you talked to your team.

Your manager and camera director indicated you to do an outro for the video’s footage and other instructions. You nodded your head and smiled, you took a step back and bowed your head towards the staff behind the cameras and thanked them for their work.

You then walked towards the group of fans and told them you had to do an outro for the camera if that was okay with them; you then sat with them on the floor while side hugging the two fans next to you, you directed yourself to the camera:  “Okay guys so sadly today’s meet is now over, I am really sad I wish we could hang out for longer, thank you so much for coming and making today so fun and special” you then turned to the camera “And for my other amazing supporters who are going to watch this on youtube, today was just a little scoop into my life like the other y/n’s camera roll EPISODES, in case you are interested in other videos like this one you can visit head to the channel where this video was uploaded and watch more! hopefully you guys had fun with us! I adore you all, thank you! Please Spread love always, y/n out” you waved as the camera director said “CUT” and the crew cut the cameras.

Your manager then stood up and directed everyone to get ready to leave, also thanking them for always supporting you and taking care of you, you smiled at your amazing manager and looked back at your fans while they picked up their stuff, smiling sadly.

You said your goodbye to everyone one-by-one as they headed out.

After lots of farewell hugs, kisses, selfies, and gifts, you went home with a smile on your face for the amazing time you had.

You went to bed, turned your phone on silent mode and looked at your ceiling,  reliving that fake scenario you talked about a few hours ago, oh how you wished it could become real (a/n hehe wink wink). Finally dozing off and resting for the work-packed day you had tomorrow unaware that your social media was currently going crazy and how they yearned for your new weekly EPISODE to come out.

Part 2- Jungkook’s POV --------> here

thank you so much, please interact with me to let me know if you like this :) Xx

#bts x reader #bts #bts x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungguk #kookie #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine

[badwithten]

〉johnny x fem!reader

〉word count 1k

〉from my 500 follower event

〉for anon! this was super sweet to write and i really hope you enjoy 🥺

Johnny always thought you looked gorgeous. However, you wore your hair, makeup or not and no matter the clothing. But for some reason tonight he thought you looked even better than usual. Your skin seemed to glow under the cheap led lights, your outfit complementing your entire look. But the cherry on top was the frown you wore on your face.

“You’re cute when you’re angry, you know?” He has a cheesy smile on his face, one that was hard to stay angry at, but your embarrassment was too strong to let go this easy. His large hand rested on top of yours from across the table, an act of genuine kindness, a way for him to calm you down without letting go of his joke either.

“Oh piss off” But you weren’t having it, tugging your hand off of the table and turning in your seat, acting like a naughty child. Johnny had promised to take you somewhere nice for your eight-year anniversary, telling you to dress up the nicest you possibly can. So when you walked out of your hotel with him in a suit and you in your fanciest clothing, you weren’t expecting him to take you to a cheap pizza restaurant.

“Loosen up a little will you” You couldn’t understand how he wasn’t embarrassed to be so overdressed in such a place. Sure the pizza here was good, but you didn’t need to wear your diamond necklace to eat some cheesy bread.

But in his eyes, this was perfect. This was where the two of you had your first date eight years ago when you were still in high school. When he found out he would be in Chicago for this anniversary he knew you had to come and he knew tonight had to be the night it had to happen, he would finally ask you to marry him. To become his wife.

Yet tonight, you seemed so gorgeous, was it the hometown air? Or just his love growing? He didn’t know but it didn’t matter, either way, it made him incredibly nervous. When the food came out and the conversation started, you had calmed down. Forgetting your anger and embarrassment, just enjoying the night with the man you had been lucky enough to be with for the last eight years.

As the meal came to an end, he knew it was time to finally ask the big questions. His hands fiddled with the small box in his suit pocket, trying to find the courage to bring it out and ask as he watched you laugh about whatever story you were telling. But he couldn’t find the words, the ringing in his ears freezing everything around until all he could see was your bright smile and feel the velvet in his pocket.

“You alright?” You pulled him back out to safety, saved him from drowning as you did many times. His hands retreated back to his lap, cursing himself as he avoided the task.

“Yeah, are you ready to get going?” With full stomachs and sore cheeks from laughing, you made your way out of the pizza place, the cold night air instantly sending shivers down your bare skin.

“John” You made grabby hands at him, letting him know you needed him closer from warmth. “I’m cold”

“Of course” He chuckles, laugh steaming up in the icy air. Just like many times before, you let your hands slip forward into his pockets with his own hands. Sharing the warmth. It was something you often did on date nights when your hands began to get cold.

But he forgot about what he was hiding in those pockets. By the time he realised, it was too late. Both of your eyes going wide as both of you realised your mistakes.

“Johhny-” Your hands fall away from his pockets, leaving his hands empty and the box intact. You can feel your own eyes tearing up, heart pounding in your ears as you try to process how the next events are going to play out.

“I-, um” He took a deep breath, hand pushing back his hair as he swallowed his fear. No backing out now. With a shaky hand, he reached back into his pocket and pulled out the box. “I was supposed to do this earlier, but, well I don’t really know what happened?” His laughter was intended to hide his nervousness but you could see right through his glossy eyes.

“Oh my god, Johnny” Your breathing got heavier as you watched him get on one knee, not caring about the dirty sidewalk ruining his suit.

“Y/N, I have been lucky enough to spend the last eight years with you by my side. And I can’t express how much you being there has improved my life. You are kind and caring and to be honest, way out of my league”

You try to laugh at his stupid joke, but instead, it only makes the tears come out harder, your nose sniffling to try and stop the snot from ruining the moment. But the way you’re crying on a Chicago sidewalk may already be the end of your nice moment.

“So Y/N L/N, will you allow me to have the honour of having your hand in marriage? In being in your life for the rest of time? Will you marry me?” You can barely get the words out, mouth falling open despite no sounds coming out. Your hands reach down and cup his, both of you shaking in each other's hold. “Um, is that a yes?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes!” He stands, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. It takes a couple of tries for him to fit the ring on your finger, but when he does, he feels complete. The way the band shines under the light makes his heart jump.

“I love you” You can taste the tears on his face as he holds you close and gives you a proper kiss. But for him, you would go through any uncomfortable scenario. His love and soul are worth more than anything to you.

Because even after eight years with him, you can’t wait to spend another lifetime by his side.

#unfortunatus: paradiso #NCTmentary.net #nct #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #johnny #johnny suh #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #johnny fluff

[monsoonblooms12]

Belamour (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Set after Book 3, Pooja finally gets Ethan to dance in the rain.

A/N: A silly something born out of my love for rains and my binge listening to 80s Bollywood classics (I have no idea what kinda mess this is tbh). Also, my first song based fic🤎

A/N 2: The song lyrics are indented (Translation in parenthesis)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Rating: General

Word Count: around 1.5K

Category: Total fluff

Warnings: None that I noticed

Song Inspiration: Aaj Kal Yaad Kuch by Mohammed Aziz

READ ON AO3

A pair of summery blue orbs insistently stare at the world beyond the glass windows.

A world that was now being washed by the consistent droplets that came down from the adobe of clouds to meet their origin.

Their drum was usually henotic, tranquil for him.

But at the moment, it only added to his irritation and deepened the void of disappointment that had formed in his chest.

In another room of the same house, a pair of amber orbs watched the magic of nature with a child-like wonder.

The pleasant, dewy petrichor spread around her, and the mellifluous tunes of Earth's own orchestra made her forget the fast turns her life went through in the past day.

In the faint light, she picked up her hand and let the jewel, the stone that was nothing less than a promise of forever, shine like the billion stars that dot the sky at nights that are devoid of clouds.

As the iridescent lights make her eyes sparkle, a vague idea forms in her brain.

Her thoughts float to reach the person who gifted her happiness, and a smile lit up on her face.

There was a mix of challenge and love in the quest she was about to partake and she was determined to succeed.

In slow, soundless steps, she made her way out of the room and out of the house.

A blur went past and his trained eyes were quick enough to catch the motion.

Shaking his head with realization, he followed behind.

As the steps took him down, and he stood under the shade of the multi-floored skyrise, she stayed yards away from it.

Her hair was wet, her skirt twirling, her face bright and beautiful.

He felt his heart race, whispering an urge to join with hers.

He restrained himself, but the scene in front of him was so spectacular that he doubted just how long his restraint would last.

After what felt like an eternity, she turned to him, half of her face golden under the street lights, the other half bearing the monotones of black and white.

She looked like the personification of their love.

Her life the golden, and his the black and white.

He could write sonnets to describe the picture-perfect scene that played before him like a film, but all he did was stand still, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to speak the words that hadn't already been spoken, his well-thumbed thesaurus gathering dust in the labyrinths of his mind.

She looked at him with a longing, a spoken call for him to join her as the rains continued to fall and purify the earth.

All he did was shake his head in silence.

She took it as a challenge, and he already knew how it was going to end.

For a minute he got lost in her memories, reminiscences from a time, from a moment that passed too quick, yet slow enough for him to remember every moment of it.

And suddenly, the faint tunes of a song brought him back to the present.

Every word of the foreign seeming language lucid clear, setting in a cascade of emotions and bringing pictures etched in past pages of the novel of life, making him go on a trip down the memory lane.

Aajkal Yad Kuch Aur Rehta Nahi

(Nowadays I don't seem to remember anything else)

Ek Bas Aapki Yad Aane Ke Bad

(Once your memories enchant me)

Yaad Aane Se Pehle Chale Aaiye

(Please come to me before the memories reach me)

Aur Phir Jaiye Jan Jane Ke Bad

(And then leave only after my breath leaves me)

The truth of the words came with an epiphany.

Every day of knowing her had been a way of painting the monotones of his life in colours he thought didn't belong to him.

Every moment she had ever spent away from him had made him yearn for her more than ever.

And yet he was foolish enough to think that miles of distance and hundreds of hours could make him forget her.

All the distress he felt could have been so easily ended if she had been with him then.

And now, as he dreams of an aeon with her, he promises to only let her go when his breath leaves him alone.

Apni Aankhon Me Mujhko Basa Lijiye

(Allow me to settle in the world of your eyes)

Apne Dil Me Mera Ghar Bana Dijiye

(Make a home for me in your heart)

Kya Karu Dil Kahi Aur Lagta Nahi

Pyar Me Aapse Dil Lagane Ke Bad

(What's the fault of mine if I can't concentrate on anything other than you, since our hearts connected by the string of love)

As the minutes pass by, melting into each other to form an hour, he loses all tracks of time.

And amidst the sweven he was living in right now, at a moment he could not pinpoint, she had taken his hand into hers and now he stood, lost in the amber of her eyes, forgetting all about the shower that now fell upon him.

As she continued to mutter the tunes in a harmony that went on in rhythm with the rain, he wished he could live in the world of her orbs.

To see the world as she saw it, to live the life from her perspective.

All he wanted was home in her heart, a tiny place on the lands of her soul.

Ishq Ke Maine Kitne Fasane Sune

(I have heard many tales of epic romances)

Husb Ke Kitne Kisse Purane Sune

(And stories about beautiful people from bygone eras)

Aisa Lagta Hai Phir Is Tarah Tut Kar

Pyar Hamne Kiya Ek Zamane Ke Bad

(But I feel I have been broken and got mended by love after centuries)

In muted harmonies, the two of them twirled, forgetting the world around them.

The way their eyes held onto each other, as if holding onto their lives, reminded him of the tales of love the folklores talk about.

The romances of princesses and maidens, and of beauties who earned their fairytale.

But as her palm stroked his cheek in a feather-light motion, he concluded that all those tales faint in front of the story of theirs.

There were no royals, no cruel witches setting up spells and no poisoned apples.

There were just two people, broken by the storms life made them navigate through, fitting perfectly as if parts of a whole.

He tried to remember if he had ever experienced anything as he did now, his lip tracing her ear as his hands wrapped around her waist.

It didn't even take him a second to know the answer.

He hadn't.

Aapka Naam Dil Se Nikalta Nahi

(Your name never leaves my heart)

Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi

Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi

(No force is strong enough to stop the meet of two hearts)

Aapko Bhul Jane Ki Koshish Bhi Ki

(I tried a hundred times to forget you)

Aur Tadpa Hun Main Bhool Jaane Ke Baad

(And suffered a suffering of pain and agony once I forgot you)

The rains accelerate and become a downpour. The mist envelops them but there was no care for the changing environment.

The distance between them ceases to exist as their hearts finally get the pleasure of beating in unison.

In the next moments, she whispers close to his ear, the last of the melody, and it's his story.

The story of how he couldn't get rid of the five-lettered name since the first time he ever came to know about it.

Of how no force in the world could stop two hearts from meeting if that's what destiny had in plan for them.

Who one loves and who loves them back determines so much in one life.

And for him, it was a chance, a risk he was scared to take, dreading the destruction it may cause.

After all when had anything ever-blossoming flowers in the city of his soul?

But this time not only did spring finally arrived with its flowery footsteps but also led to a discovery of himself, a part of him that was buried under layers of snow from the winter that reigned in his life for years.

She taps twice on his heart, indicating how he had tried to forget her, all those years ago. And how he broke himself in the process.

As she hummed the last lines, he bowed down in front of the forces that brought the two of them together.

He thanked the stars which aligned the way did to let him fall for her and agreed to hide, to let the rains fall, to let him have this night with her.

And looked in awe at the woman who brought about the sweetest catastrophe mankind has ever known.

And without uttering a word, he picks her and kisses her, saying all that was left unsaid with it.

PS: I actually have another version of the song, that I sung specifically to go with this, but Tumblr is giving me troubles to upload it. Do let me know if you would like to hear it someday.

Anyways, If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

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[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

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[itsclydebitches]

None of them liked Ironwoods growingly tyrannical actions, it's the whole reason Ruby lies to him, he looked shady as hell. They are shown very clearly uncomfortable with what he's turned Atlas into in the First episode. It's just that at the end of Volime 7 he crossed the line.

The key words there are “first episode.” I’ve mentioned on other posts that if the plot had simply continued the forward momentum of the group being disgusted with Ironwood’s choices and working against him (hiding out in the city, gathering like-minded allies, etc.) then we would have been golden. Ironwood is Volume 7’s antagonist. There, done. The problem is what starts in the second episode. Our basic events are as follows:

The group (and audience) learn that Ironwood has arguably justified reasons for everything “shady as hell” that he’s done. The embargo? They are at war with Salem and people have been stealing resources since our introductory trailers (Blake). Soldiers in the streets? That first episode showed that grimm are attacking defenseless civilians and, if the soldiers hadn’t been there to fend the grimm off prior to Penny’s arrival, they likely would have died. Taking resources? That’s to re-establish global communications and enact a plan to stop Salem for good, freeing the world from the danger she presents. 

However, they’re still morally gray choices which our group could have opposed… but they didn’t. They join Ironwood as public allies (standing with Clover and Penny against Robyn), as Inner Circle allies (they learn all of Ironwood’s plans—and we learn that he never lied to them), as huntsmen (it’s his power as general that gives them their licenses), and as fellow soldiers (they are indistinguishable from the Ace Ops in the missions they conduct). Now toss in a bunch of other connections like living in his academy, taking his weapon upgrades, and carrying the Relic. They might not like his actions, but they’re certainly doing everything possible to support and reap the benefits of them. 

Ruby does lie to him… which two in the group oppose (however lackluster that was). Yang and Oscar both question the wisdom of doing the very thing they punished Ozpin for. Ren also develops a strong (if quiet) alliance with Ironwood that will carry into Volume 8... until his semblance changed and he forgot about it. 

During all this there are efforts—mostly through Nora—to condemn Ironwood for his choices. How can you continue to hurt the people like this? Same answer as above: because he believes a short-term struggle is worth the long-term victory. Nora doesn’t agree… but Ruby, the leader, does. She pushes Ironwood to finish Amity somehow.

Which is an incredibly strange stance to take considering she knows that amassing a world-wide army will not defeat Salem. If the group wants Ironwood to stop hurting Mantle, all they have to do is tell him that Salem is immortal… but they don’t. They let him continue under this false belief, despite having more information about this war than he does and despite that information being the key to stopping the harm he’s enacting.

The arc of the volume is not the group choosing to trust Ironwood and then realizing he actually isn’t trustworthy, it’s the group (or rather, Ruby) deciding not to trust Ironwood and then realizing he is trustworthy. We get that climactic scene of Ruby and Oscar simultaneously realizing they should tell him about Salem and Oscar apologizing for keeping that secret in the first place. 

 Note that this occurs after they’ve talked him into telling Mantle about her. So not only is the group not made up of mindless subordinates being ordered about by a powerful general—it’s their advice Ironwood listens to—but now they’ve put an entire city in the position they were in during Volume 6. We’re told, via Ozpin’s arc, that telling people about Salem without including the issue of her immortality is a horrific thing to do. Those like Qrow have supposedly “wasted” their lives fighting an impossible war and the fandom has argued strongly that Ozpin has manipulated everyone involved in this fight by not giving them the full picture. Yet now, the group has spent months keeping that information from Ironwood when his questionable choices are based on that ignorance, and they’ve talked him into telling half his population that Salem exists and they should rise up to fight her… but not the pesky detail that she’s immortal. They did to Ironwood and all of Mantle exactly what Ozpin did to them.

Immediately after hearing that they’ve kept this secret from him the entire time they’ve been here (which he takes very well) Ironwood captures one of their main villains, loses his arm in the process, learns that two in the group have outright betrayed him to a political enemy, learns that despite all their best efforts Cinder has just waltzed into his office, learns that Salem herself is on her way and their defenses are already gone, knows that everyone is exhausted from a major battle… so when he decides to take all of Atlas, the majority of Mantle, and the Relics/Maiden they have to try and get out of Salem’s reach… Ruby says no. What’s her plan? She doesn’t have one. You’re just not allowed to leave.

The problem with the writing is it wants us to believe two contradictory things at once. Looking back, Ironwood is meant to be seen as an unambiguously bad guy in Volume 7, which we know because of scenes like Winter’s fight wherein she condemns him for everything he did in Volume 7, not just Volume 8 stuff like threatening to bomb Mantle. Yet at the same time, we’re simultaneously meant to believe that the group is made up of unambiguously good people who function as direct contrasts to Ironwood. Given what we got, these two things cannot coexist! Either Ironwood was a good man who the heroes backed for an entire volume and there’s no acknowledgment of that, or Ironwood was a bad man… who the heroes backed for an entire volume and there’s no acknowledgment of that either. If the group’s defense is, “We knew he was shady as hell. We knew what he was doing was wrong. We knew he was the bad guy here… but we still helped him maintain power, forward his plans, and reap the benefits of the flawed system for months on end”… that’s really bad. “I supported, assisted, and benefited from the guy who was shady as hell, but that’s fine because I felt uncomfortable about it the whole time” is not the hot take the fandom wants it to be. We cannot make these broad, sweeping statements about how the Atlas military—merged with its huntsmen—is an Evil Thing and then show scenes like, say, Jaune using his military grade huntsmen license to convince a bunch of civilians to follow his evacuation plan. The heroes cannot be Good and Pure while supporting the supposed villains and their systems; or, the villains cannot be purely Bad and Evil if they’re supported by the heroes.

The reality is that RWBY is badly written and this sort of simplistic, inconsistent writing doesn’t lend itself to a topic as complex as this one. To be frank, we don’t even know enough to make informed decisions about these actions because the world building is nearly nonexistent. What are these “resources” and how are the resources to patch a hole in the wall the same as the resources used to make Amity Tower into a world-wide communication device? How much power does Ironwood actually have and what other decisions has he made that impact Mantle? We never hear about any policies to explain things like the poor conditions, or the slum areas with the faunus. Why are the civilians so against the soldiers patrolling when we don’t see them abusing the public in any way, but we do see the grimm threatening them on the regular? Why does Ruby want Amity built so badly—willing to hurt Mantle to do it—when she knows a bigger army isn’t the answer/that telling people about Salem has almost always led to panic and betrayal? Is there really any difference between huntsmen and soldiers here? And if the answer is, “Yes. Huntsmen aren’t beholden to any power. That’s a good thing because following orders is Bad. They do what they think is best” than what are we supposed to make of someone like Rhodes who, apparently, did what he thought was best? If he’d been beholden to some superior there might have been a system in place to help Cinder. As it was, he was left to his own devices and a lot of fans are furious with the solution he, as one flawed individual, came up with. We simply don’t have a good picture of this world and when we do, things constantly contradict. It’s good for huntsmen to make their own choices, but only when Ruby does it, not Rhodes. It’s bad for heroes to keep the Salem secret and tell lies to their allies, but only when Ozpin does it, not Ruby. It’s bad for someone to try and save who they’ve got, but only when Ironwood does it, not Ruby, who apparently left Atlas after failing to create portals for her Uncle, Robyn, the Ace Ops, Pietro, Maria, and an entire army.

The way that the fandom gets around these problems—because too few are willing to just acknowledge that they are problems and RWBY is shoddily written—is by simplistically comparing RWBY’s military to a real world one. I cannot tell you how many posts I’ve come across that amount to, “Imagine thinking the teenage girls are the bad guys when a military general is right there, being a military general 😒 ” Those posts imply that fans like me are too stupid (too brainwashed, too close to “bootlickers”) to be critical of the military, but I assure you, that’s as far from true as can be. Those posts are trying to conflate real life politics with a fantasy story whose world looks nothing like our own. The is not a question of being critical of the military, it’s a question of being critical of RWBY as that fictional text… and that fiction never established any of the military problems we deal with in the real world. It might have (very easily), but it didn’t. Is Ironwood leveraging his people to conquer others or go after wealth? No, his world has literal, unambiguously evil monsters to fight. Does he amass power out of a desire to control the people? No, he lays out his exact thoughts on how these measures will help protect against those monsters and a witch. Does the military abandon its soldiers after war, leaving them with few resources and fewer prospects? No, we never see anyone struggling in that manner and one of the most prominent tragedies—Yang losing a limb—is answered by Ironwood personally sending a replacement to her home. Is the military at least built around propaganda, painting civilians an inaccurate picture of Freedom and Glory to convince them to fight? No, we see no propaganda, Ironwood—since Volume 2—has been focused on replacing people with robots and our entire story is built around one child’s desire to fight the exact same battle. Why do you want to be a huntress, Ruby? Because I want to help people! And that goal is never painted as a naïve outlook that Ruby becomes disillusioned with. Posts like the one mentioned above bank 100% on the reader mapping real life military criticism onto RWBY… rather than actually looking at the world RWBY built, what choices the characters make, the amount of information we’re given (little), and whether that in any way reflects our current, political problems. It doesn’t. 

I’m never going to pretend there weren’t problems with Ironwood’s decisions. In fact, I love that this was actually a conflict in Volume 3 that gave both sides a fair shake: is it better to scare people and have an army at the ready to defend them, or is it better to keep them in the dark and potentially be defenseless? Ironwood’s kind heart bumping up against extreme measures is what made him compelling, especially when the story was having him grow in the “right” direction (AKA, listening to Ozpin). His treatment of Penny is another big issue, creating a whole ass person to serve as a military defense tool. That’s horrifying! So he’s absolutely had his problems long before the writing had him turn into a trigger-happy murderer, but part of the issue here is that the writing doesn’t acknowledge those problems in other characters. If Ironwood is “shady as hell” for forwarding a military agenda and using military resources… then so is Ruby, the leader who backed that for months. If Ironwood is “shady as hell” for funding the creation of a person to defend his kingdom… then so is Pietro, the scientist who not only built Penny, but came up with the idea in the first place. He’s not some defenseless victim who was forced by the evil Ironwood to create something morally reprehensible, he suggested it! The same way Winter wasn’t some defenseless victim who was forced by the evil Ironwood to go along with these plans. She supported them, agreed to be his Maiden, and was the first to suggest martial law! Yet Ruby, Pietro, Winter and their like are all presented as unambiguously Good People, whereas Ironwood is presented as the unambiguous Bad Guy—and when a lot of fans went, “But you’re not writing him like a Bad Guy? Especially when we compare him to the heroes?” we got his sudden, OOC murder streak in Volume 8. But it doesn’t work. Either the group is made up of morally gray/bad people because they did the things our antagonist Ironwood did, or Ironwood is not the morally gray/bad person the show insists he is (prior to Volume 8) because he did the same things as our heroes. You cannot give us that plot, those choices, that agency and insist on both at once. This problem has existed ever since we got an entire volume about how simplistically evil Ozpin is for keeping this secret… only for Ruby to immediately turn around and keep it herself, with no acknowledgement that either a) Ozpin wasn’t the bad guy then or b) Ruby is as bad as he is. But the show wants Ruby to be the Good Person in every situation, no matter how much she models her behavior after those she deems her enemies, and Ironwood’s arc only increased that problem tenfold.

#rwby #mymetas #tempoaryblogformightyjensblog

[purpletaecup]

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

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[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 3

The Wildest Times of the World

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge​ @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! But I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Warning(s): none :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

AO3 link

Chapter 3 let’s go!

Three chilly October days after Ron’s abrupt departure from London - which Juliet was still seething about - she arrived home from the store to a different person she expected to never hear from again. Lottie stood at the front door, muttering to herself about whether or not to knock. Juliet was especially surprised because it was raining, which would have normally kept the editor indoors if she could help it. Juliet watched a moment, not wanting to give away her presence immediately. It satisfied her to watch Lottie fret like this. After a few moments, Juliet caved and cleared her throat. 

Lottie gasped as she whipped around, clutching at her chest. “Heaven's sake, Juliet! How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long,” Juliet said, intentionally vague. “Can I help you, Lottie?” 

“Well…” Lottie hesitated, shifting her weight and toying with the fingertips of her gloves. “Shall we go in? I really need to speak to you.” 

Juliet decided not to comment on Lottie’s self-invite into the house. She figured with no other job openings popping up, this could be her opportunity to try and gain back some favor at the London Pursuit. She couldn’t imagine that Lottie was here for a personal reason. That was not the sort of manager she was. 

Once inside, Lottie followed Juliet to the kitchen - again, kindly not saying anything about the state of the house. Juliet set her grocery bags on the table before taking her coat off. Lottie shrugged hers off as well, removed her hat and gloves, and took a seat. 

“Cuppa?” Juliet offered. 

“Sure,” Lottie replied. 

Juliet put the kettle on. Then she started unloading the bags. 

“So, what did you want to speak to me about?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could. 

“It’s the Albourne story,” Lottie said, voice tight, almost like she was spitting the words out. “All the other reporters are too busy to cover it. And if I have to go through the process of hiring someone new, we won’t get it in time.” 

“I’ve already told you, I think it’s -”

“You needn’t remind me of your insolent remarks,” she snapped. 

Juliet sighed, picked up a can of beans and placed it slowly in the cupboard, forming as polite a response as she could muster. But Lottie beat her to the next word. 

“If you agree to cover this story, I’ll let you cover the war down there,” she said. 

Juliet almost slammed the cupboard door shut in surprise. “What?” 

“You can cover the war news from there,” Lottie repeated. 

“Do you know something the rest of us don’t?” Juliet returned. “Because if you know the Germans are in Aldbourne and you haven’t said anything until now, you might be in trouble, Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Juliet. The Americans are there, you could write about them.” 

Juliet bit back the snappy retort she had about that, and dialed it down. “Fascinating as the Yanks are, I reckon they’re not doing much actual fighting in Aldbourne. Unless you mean brawling in pubs.”

The English had almost adjusted to the American presence by now. However, Juliet had slipped out of more than one pub after a fight broke out between some bright-eyed, blue-blooded American who spoke too boldly about their importance in the war effort and an Englishman who naturally took offense to the effort of “our own lads” being minimized. It escalated. Drinks were thrown, followed shortly by fists. Others jumped in to either assist or attempt to separate the combatting parties, only to get swept up in the action either way. It was entertaining, sure, but Juliet thought it made rather a mockery of the term “Allies.” 

“They’re doing something there,” Lottie insisted. “And I give you full permission to try and find out what. As long as you cover the story about the girl as well.” 

“Observing Americans isn’t really covering the war, and you know it, Lottie,” Juliet said. 

“I’m not sending a woman to the front line, there would be a mob at the office door,” Lottie said. “I personally don’t care if you want to go and get yourself shot, but your blood cannot be on my hands.”

Juliet had to concede that point. Other papers had already suffered the ramifications of sending women reporters even within the vicinity of the front. There were boycotts led by counter-feminist groups and concerned mothers about the message it sent about women’s roles. It was one thing for women to work while men fought the war, but to put them in the line of fire? That was just indecent. 

“Well, good to know my life isn’t as much of your concern as public opinion,” Juliet joked.

Lottie frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Relax, Lottie, I’m taking the piss,” Juliet returned with a wave of her hand. 

She paused, mulling over the offer Lottie was bringing. She wasn’t in much of a position to refuse work, but the idea of covering that gruesome story was almost too much to bear. Even if she was a bit interested in what the Americans were doing. Then, something else crossed her mind. 

“Why do you want this covered so badly?” she asked. 

Lottie’s face flushed and her mouth drew tight, which Juliet understood to mean the reason would not be to her liking. She braced herself. 

“A family friend is with the Wiltshire police,” Lottie admitted. “He thinks it would look good for the department to solve a case like this and put the murderer away. And to have the press cover it, especially a London paper with circulation throughout the country.”

Juliet couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re killing me, Lottie.” 

“This is the deal I’m offering,” Lottie sighed. “I know you’re opposed to it, but this is the compromise I’m willing to make.”

 Juliet considered her options. She did need the money. But the subject matter and the reasoning were so against her ideals and ethics as a journalist. How could she live with herself if she broke them for money? But there was her mother to consider as well. Which brought up another objection. 

“Even if I wanted to,” she said. “I can’t. It leaves no one here to look after Mum.” 

“I thought you had a brother,” Lottie returned. 

“He lives on Guernsey,” Juliet reminded her, minding her tone so she wouldn’t sound too bitter. “Otherwise, I’m certain he’d be here.”

Lottie shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize. I forgot.”

“S’fine,” Juliet replied.  

“Can’t you hire someone to look after your mother?” Lottie asked. 

Juliet only raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her - as if to say, “you’ve seen the house, you think we can afford help?” Lottie understood the implication. 

“What if…” Lottie trailed off, considering. “What if I hired someone to look after her?”

Juliet blinked. “That’s...generous of you, Lottie, but I’d never be able to pay you back or -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lottie said. “I want this story and - believe it or not - I want it done well. I know you’ll handle it as tastefully as possible and you could really show that -” 

She was cut off by the kettle screeching its completion to boil, so Juliet went to take it off the burner and fetch some tea cups. She poured the tea and served it, and Lottie thanked her quietly, almost abashed by her admission to decency. But there was something more. 

“Really show what?” Juliet pressed.

Lottie heaved a defeated sigh. Like admitting this was something that exasperated her. “That women can handle tough topics. It’s not covering the war, but it’s a step in that direction.” 

Juliet couldn’t help but agree. If women could handle murder and the investigation surrounding it, surely women could be seen as sensible enough to tackle tragedy on a larger scale. They weren’t going to faint at the sight of blood or burst into tears over sentimentality. She couldn’t help herself. Juliet wanted to be part of that narrative. 

“Lottie, I’m surprised at you,” she teased. “I didn’t take you for such a feminist.” 

Lottie’s jaw dropped and she gaped at Juliet, totally affronted at the suggestion. “I am no such thing!” 

Juliet shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t be either if I had your tits.” 

Lottie could only sputter in response and Juliet snickered before sipping her tea.

“Juliet!” Lottie scolded. 

“I’ll do it,” Juliet said suddenly. 

Lottie closed her mouth, stunned. “You’ll - you’ll do the story?” 

“Yes,” Juliet assured her, smiling. “You’ve given me a real reason to. And if there’s someone here to look after Mum and I can get a bit of war news as well, then what choice do I have but to say yes? You drive a hard bargain, Lottie.”

Lottie’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Juliet. Really.” 

“When do I go?” Juliet asked. 

“There’s a train to Aldbourne tomorrow morning at nine,” Lottie said. 

“I’ll be on it.” 

***

Aldbourne was probably a village that once called itself sleepy. But now it was overrun by Americans - mostly paratroopers - which created an upheaval the likes of which many residents had never seen before. There was life in the town. The Women’s Land Army, or “land girls” as they were called, were taking full advantage of the flirting opportunities that arose with these American men, who lacked British decorum and were therefore prime targets for a fling. As Juliet walked from the station to her lodgings, with all the people mulling through the heart of the village, she found it almost hard to believe she was there to report on a murder. 

Lodgings were difficult to come by with the Americans billeted in just about any space they could fit. Even horses were having to share their stables. But Lottie pulled some strings and got Juliet a room above the Blue Boar, a pub. She wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d really be able to get with the noise of a pub below her, but she didn’t dare complain. Not when she was one step closer to getting what she wanted. 

The owner was a portly, older gentleman by the name of Jacob Powell. His kind, round face welcomed Juliet warmly, and she was grateful for the reception. She didn’t want to infringe too much on his hospitality, so she refused a cup of tea for the moment, insisting she needed to get unpacked and to the police station as soon as possible. 

“Oh, yeah, that's a gruesome business about the little girl,” Jacob said. “Are you really going to write a story about it?” 

“I’m no Agatha Christie or anything, but I’m going to do my best,” she returned, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing a story with just anyone. 

He shook his head. “It’s just a right shame.”

“Concisely put, Mr. Powell,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Right, sorry,” he said bashfully, and he reminded her that the offer for tea still stood if she changed her mind before closing the door behind him. 

First, Juliet set down her suitcase with her clothes. Second, she heaved her typewriter onto the desk in the corner of the room. It was beside the one window that looked out onto the street. Juliet approved of the set up since she liked natural light while she wrote. She got her things exactly where she wanted them, but hadn’t bothered to remove her hat and coat since she was going right back out. Securing her notebook, pen, and room key, she left. 

The police station was one of the dullest she’d ever seen. Given the nature of the town, it didn’t surprise her. Lottie’s contact was Otis Allen, a lieutenant in the Wiltshire Police, who was still in Aldbourne to lead the investigation. He was a tall, thin man, with kind blue eyes and straw-like blonde hair. Rather unimposing for being in law enforcement. But Juliet observed right away the misshapen mound where his right ear should have been. He mentioned it before she had the opportunity to ask. 

“Sorry about the grisly ear,” he said. “My gift from the Germans last time they had a go at us.”

“A bit rude,” she teased. “Flowers would have suited just fine, I think.” 

He chuckled at that as he gestured for her to take a seat across from him at his desk. With that, she noticed a gnarled hand - the few fingers he had left were permanently curled under themselves. He disguised it fairly well with a glove, but she saw anyway. 

“Those Jerries really overdid it on the gifts,” she remarked. “I bet it wasn’t even your birthday.”

He fully laughed at that and she noticed his expression softened. When they’d met, he’d been a bit rigid, but his muscles relaxed now, put at ease by her gentle humor. 

“Thanks for that,” he said. 

She cocked her head to the side. “For what?”

“For the jokes,” he answered. “Ever since that war, all I get are pitying looks or fear. Thanks for treating it like it’s...normal.” 

“I’ll leave pity to the nurses,” she said with a smile. “Now, what have you got so far on the case?”  

He went over the basics with her. In September, a six-year-old girl, Peggy Lee, was drowned in the tub, allegedly by her host, Meredith Fisher. Peggy had been with the Fisher’s since January with no reported issues. When Peggy did not arrive for school the next day, her teacher phoned the Fisher’s home with no answer. They chalked it up to Peggy being ill or some other explainable matter, and moved on. When she was absent the following day as well, they called again, and Meredith told them that yes, Peggy was ill, and could not come to school for a few days. Ashley Fisher, Meredith’s husband, was in London on business at the time, and when he returned at the end of the week, found Peggy’s body and called the police. Meredith claimed initially there was an accident, but evidence from Peggy’s autopsy proved foul play was involved. Juliet took fervent notes as Otis explained it all, trying not to get disgusted by the whole thing. 

“Where is Mrs. Fisher being held now?” Juliet asked. “Surely not here in Aldbourne.” 

“‘Course not, she’s in Trowbridge,” Otis assured her. “Mr. Fisher is here though, if you’d like to speak to him.” 

She blinked. “Is he an expert on the case or something?”

“Well, no -”

“Then what insight could he possibly give me?” 

“He’s a witness,” he reminded her. 

“Investigators and lawyers question witnesses,” she said. “I need facts from experts to put the story into context. His testimony would only sway readers' emotions, and that’s not what I’m after.” 

He smiled. “Well. You’re not like any reporter I’ve ever met.” 

“I should hope not,” she returned. “I’m not covering this for the sensation. Why do you think I haven’t asked you where the Lee family is?”

His eyebrows went up a ways on his forehead. “You’re not going to interview them at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. An interview with them is even less useful than an interview with Mr. Fisher. They weren’t even witnesses.” 

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. “Right. Emotional appeal instead of factual.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And besides, I’m sure the last thing they need right now is some reporter sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

“I like you, Miss Fletcher,” he said simply. “You’ve got...surprising respect for this. And a good head on your shoulders.” 

Juliet forced a smile to swallow her question if he’d be surprised by her if she were a man. She didn’t know where her control came from during interviews, but she was grateful for it. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “Lottie told me the goal was to get this story widely circulated, and I truly believe that’s possible with the facts alone. I don’t believe in patronizing the audience to get their attention.” 

“You’ve got more faith in people than I do,” he scoffed. “But I like your style. I look forward to working with you.” 

“The feeling is mutual,” she returned. She did like Otis, even if he had briefly underestimated her. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to meet with the doctor who conducted the autopsy, yes?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The prosecution is having a psychiatrist evaluate Mrs. Fisher this week, so I’ll keep you updated on that as well.” 

“I’d love an interview with the prosecutor too, if that’s possible,” she said. 

“I’ll speak to him about it,” he told her. “Have a good evening, Miss Fletcher.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

They shook hands before she parted. She made her way back to the Blue Boar, dodging GIs all along the way. They were winding down for the day, it seemed, going for runs, dates, or drinks, depending on their mood. She got a whistle or two, which she ignored, mentally going over her notes. She was also relieved she wasn’t going to have to fight Otis on how to do the story. She really was getting free reign on how to put this all together, and she was excited by the opportunities that meant for her. 

Her excitement was sucked away when she reached the Blue Boar and found her things had been hurled onto the street. Her mouth fell open. She had only just arrived, what on earth could she have done?

She marched toward the door, straightening up to her full height, prepared to demand an answer from Jacob. But she didn’t have to go far, he met her at the doorway, blocking her entrance with a glower on his face that could have melted snow. 

“What’s the meaning of this?!” she demanded. 

“I don’t want any of your sort staying in my establishment!” he shot back. “Did you think you could fool me?! I read the papers!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she returned. “What papers?!” 

He pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his back pocket and threw it at her. She caught it and opened it with a snap. She recognized it as a society gossip periodical that she usually tried to avoid. On the side of the page, she read the headline “ARTHUR BURNS’ EX-FIANCE TURNS LADY OF THE EVENING?” with a photo of her leaving the hotel she’d met Ron in, looking furious as she absolutely was that day. Her heart dropped as she read the copy beneath. 

Desperate times must truly call for desperate measures, it began. Juliet Fletcher, 31, who just earlier this year was scorned by Arthur Burns when he terminated their engagement, was spotted leaving a hotel after a rendezvous with a mysterious American. The receptionist, who wished to remain anonymous, said Fletcher returned the following day, found the Yank gone, and stormed out, seething. 

‘It was clearly a dispute over money,’ the receptionist said. ‘They left the hotel together early in the morning, and she came back in the evening after he’d checked out. She was so sneaky about what she needed, I knew it couldn’t be anything respectable. And then to be as furious as she was about his leaving, it was obviously about an unpaid sum.’

Could it be that Miss Fletcher has fallen into disgrace after Mr. Burns left her? Could it be that she needed additional income after becoming accustomed to the Burns lifestyle? What else could possibly drive her to stoop to such lows? 

The Burns family refused to comment for this story, and Miss Fletcher herself appears to be out of town at the moment. And who can blame her?

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she cried. “It isn’t true!”

“Pictures don’t lie, missy,” Jacob practically spat. “Now clear off from my property or I’ll have the police on you!”

A small crowd had gathered to watch the confrontation unfold. Doubtless, the raised voices had drawn attention to them, but Juliet could not bring herself to care. The injustice of it made her blood boil. She squared her shoulders and planted her feet. 

“It’s not true, you idiot!” she shouted. “This paper is known for misrepresenting the people they write about!” 

“I said - CLEAR OFF, YOU!” he roared. 

She scowled at him as fiercely as she could manage, but he slammed the door in her face. Head held high, she went and snatched her things off the ground, slinging them onto her shoulders before facing him again. 

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” she hollered back. When she turned on her heel and saw the Aldbourne residents watching with avid interest, she snapped at them too. “Should we have sold tickets?! Mind your business, people!” 

Properly scolded, they scattered like roaches. Juliet heaved a sigh, wondering where to point her feet. Fuming, she considered parking herself outside the door and shouting until Jacob had no choice but to hear her out, but she couldn’t risk arrest. Not when she was relying on the police as sources for her story. 

Her thoughts were completely interrupted when a platoon of paratroopers jogged across the square from where she stood. Leading them was the man Juliet held solely responsible for all her troubles as of late - Ron Speirs. She told herself not to get distracted by the sweat on his brow or the way his backside looked in the little shorts he had on, and focus on what mattered. He was getting away with what had happened - or rather not happened - while she was publicly shamed. Abandoning her bags, she hurtled after the platoon, catching up with surprising speed in her heels. 

“HEY!” she bellowed. 

The whole platoon stuttered in their cadence, and the few in the back turned their heads at the sound of her voice. Ron either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, and she wasn’t sure which was more infuriating. She gained on them. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to get louder, absolutely refusing to be ignored. 

“RONALD SPEIRS!” she yelled. 

He called his men to a halt, stopping alongside them and turning to face her. He blinked in surprise at the sight of her - he had evidently not expected her here - but he didn’t say anything right away. She caught her breath as she marched up to him. This time, she was ready, wallet in her coat pocket. She whipped it out and brandished it like a sword. 

“No one pays me a kindness and gets away with it!” she shouted, popping the wallet open and fishing out the bills she owed him. “That,” she slapped the first few onto his chest, and he caught them before they fluttered to the ground. “Is for my half of the hotel room!” She did not acknowledge the snickers that went through the platoon, and then forced a second handful of money into his hand. “And that is for the potatoes and cab fare!” 

He looked levelly at her. “I really didn’t expect to be -” 

“I don’t care what you expected!” she continued. “You left me to look like a prize idiot!” 

He glanced at his platoon, who were murmuring to each other as speculation began about how their lieutenant knew this strange woman. 

“I’d rather have this conversation in private if it’s all the same to you,” he said. 

“It’s not all the same to me, you punk!” She accentuated this with a shove to his arm. He didn’t move, but it made her feel better. “You humiliated me in front of the stupid hotel girl, which has now resulted in me losing my lodgings, so yeah, I’m going to stand here and embarrass you in front of your little mates!” 

“Juliet -” 

“How dare you leave before I could pay you back!” she went on fiercely. “You said you’d be there! You lied right to my face! Like a - a - a liar!” 

“Eloquently said,” he returned. 

“I don’t need your wise-ass remarks!” 

“Settle down.” 

“I WILL NOT SETTLE DOWN!” 

Her face was red with how much yelling she’d been doing, so she took a deep breath to collect herself. She felt a tingle in her throat, so she tried to clear it. 

“I’m going to, though,” she said. “Not because you told me to, but because my voice is getting hoarse.” 

He stared at her for a beat. “Okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“The receptionist at the hotel in London spoke to a gossip columnist about seeing us together,” she said. “Now, the owner of the Blue Boar says he won’t have one of ‘my sort’ in his rooms.” 

“I see,” he said with a nod. “I’ll sort it out.”

“No, I can’t owe you another favor,” she returned. 

“So you just came over here to yell at me?” he asked, to clarify. 

“And pay you back!” she insisted. “Now that’s been accomplished, we can part ways and I’ll never speak to you again. Starting now.” 

“Juliet -” 

“Starting now!”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away. He watched her go for a moment, enjoying the way her skirt swished around her legs, the shape of which he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. Shaking his head to clear it, he faced his men again. He noticed the stifled laughter behind their hands and smirks on their faces.

“Something funny?” he snapped with a scowl. 

They straightened up and muttered quick “no, sir”s under his glare. 

“Good, we’ve got a run to finish,” he said. 

They continued down the road. But Ron knew just what he was going to do afterward. 

***

Night fell over Aldbourne like a frigid shadow. Juliet, with aching feet and chattering teeth, took shelter in a phone booth across from the Blue Boar, having scoured the village for anywhere else to stay to no avail. And she was not a moment too soon in closing the booth door. Just seconds after she did, a soft rain began to patter against it. 

She needed to call Lottie and see what her options were. She couldn’t stay in Aldbourne without a room, but that put everything on hold. She pushed the coins into the slot and called Lottie at home, adding guilt to her weariness. 

“Hello?” came Lottie’s voice after just two rings, which relieved Juliet a little since it meant she was not in bed already. 

“Lottie, it’s Juliet,” Juliet said. “Look, something’s happened and your friend Jacob’s given me the boot.” 

“What?” Lottie questioned. “Why?” 

“Some stupid fucking article accusing me of being a prostitute,” Juliet snapped. 

“There’s no need for that kind of language,” Lottie replied coolly. 

Juliet hesitated a beat. “Okay, given the nature of what I said, I’m not sure if you’re referring to ‘fuck’ or ‘prostitute.’”

“Both,” Lottie said, and before Juliet could protest, she went on. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

Juliet explained everything - that her arrival went fine, but at some point during her interview with Otis, Jacob had read that article about the hotel nonsense, and had refused to let her back inside. 

“Now I’m stuck in a phone booth,” she finished. 

A beat passed and Juliet feared for a fleeting second that her time had run out. She dug in her pocket for more coins, but Lottie spoke again. 

“So...what were you doing in a hotel room with an American?” she asked. 

“That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?!” Juliet cried, incredulous. “Lottie, I’m exhausted and freezing, I need a place to stay or a ticket home!” 

“Was it something indecent?” Lottie pressed.

“No!” Juliet returned. “Look, I got drunk, I almost got hurt, and he just looked after me for the night, but nothing happened, I swear. Believe me, he’s the last man on Earth I’d ever want to shag, even if he is ridiculously good loo-”

She stopped suddenly and whipped around when she heard a knock on the door. There he stood. Ronald Speirs, looking expectantly at her. 

“Son of a BITCH!” she swore, stamping her foot. 

“I beg your pardon!” Lottie gasped. 

“Must go, Lottie, my mystery American has returned,” Juliet said through clenched teeth. “Aldbourne’s about to have another murder on its hands.” 

She hung up harshly, slamming the phone down before Lottie could protest. Then she wrenched the door and faced him, eyes blazing. She opened her mouth, preparing to dismiss him completely, but he beat her to the punch. 

“Jacob changed his mind,” he said. “You can have your room back.” 

She deflated and blinked at him in surprise. “I said I didn’t want -”

“Do you want a bed for the night or not?” he cut across her. 

Her drained muscles screamed at her to agree, but her pride was stronger. She started to refuse him again. 

“Buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even,” he said, as if reading her mind. 

“That’s not really the same,” she argued. 

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he told her. “The Blue Boar is where the officers drink. It came up, I explained, simple as that.” 

“Okay, one drink.” She held his gaze. “And then we’ll never speak again.”

He looked into her eyes, so long and so intensely, in any other context she would have thought he might kiss her. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t do anything. He just shrugged, turned, and walked back toward the pub. She didn’t totally blame him since the rain was beginning to come down harder. With a defeated sigh, she scrambled to collect her things and followed him. 

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #hbo war fic #band of brothers fic

[magicmanias]

The Wanderer

Episode 2 of Polaris

[per - uh - jee] (n). Astronomy. the point in the orbit of a heavenly body at which it is nearest to the earth

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: A fugitive out of time + interdimensional space travel + a love story. Always on the run, and while Loki might be able to escape the TVA, he always gravitates towards you. Not even bending the fabric of space and time itself can cut his heartstrings.

Occurs after the events of Endgame. Replaces Loki mini-series timeline.

Warnings: You know it’s gonna be angst. You just know. Come on now.

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I have exams coming up, so I’ve been having to study for those a lot. Once exams are over at the end of May, you know I’ll be writing like a maniac. Also, the word count will definitely increase as the chapters go along. It's been a bit short, but right now, we're just building traction! And yes… You will come across a part that is vague and opens up more questions about the reader who I have named Goddess Divine.

<- Previous | Next -> (Coming soon)

“Thank you.” Loki rubs his wrists as the chains fall to the ground. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“You—My husband taught me,” you said. Loki nodded but offered nothing in response. “We need to leave here. I know a way.”

“Hey, hold on.” Loki reached out to grab her wrist, but lowered his hand once he got her attention instead. “We don’t have the Tesseract.”

“There are other ways to leave this planet.”

Loki scoffed. “I don’t think you understand how powerful that thing is.”

You turned fully to face him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “I know more than you. Trust me. It’s better if you forget about it.”

The children are constantly at the forefront of your thoughts even as you searched for an escape in the caverns under Asgard. Memories of posies in hand and your old, favorite pink dress drew all your attention from the damp halls illuminated by enchanted flame. This place… this time that you’re in was all-too-well ingrained in the core of everything you remembered of your home.

Your calves started to strain and it took you some time until you realized that you’ve been trying to sync your steps with Loki’s, an unconscious effort you would always put in walking alongside your husband. The difference was that his doppleganger didn’t take care to shorten his strides to allow for you to keep up.

“We’ve fallen into a past timeline of yours.” Loki glanced at you over his shoulder. “Those children were you and… your husband.”

“Yes.” You give up on trying to keep up and let him take the lead. “I remember why we were up there. Today was the Perigee.”

Loki was curious. He’d never heard of such a thing. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

You made a confused look on your face, but then immediately understood. “I suppose you don’t observe that in your world.”

“No, I can’t say that we do. Is it a celestial celebration? We only commemorate the coming of the seasons.”

At the end of the hall, you finally arrived at the center of the caverns, a chamber of nine interconnected murals telling the story of creation. You and Loki used to play under these paintings, waiting until Thor would find you at last.

“The Perigee is not of Asgard. It exists on Midgard, the mortal planet, when the moon is at its closest point in orbit to the earth. It happens so often there, but we hold the festival when Asgard, too, is at its closest point with Midgard.”

“That seems a bit arbitrary,” he commented, now gazing at the murals of his father above him. Odin was painted in a beautiful light as he constructed the world. Ymir simply seemed to disappear from the artwork, but the muralist failed to convey that Odin slew the giant and used his body to form the cosmos.

“There is a story behind it, like all great Norse holidays have. It tells the story of Gaea and Máni. A tale of forbidden love. Lofn loves to tell the story for all the children at each festival. She claims that without her, they would never have ended up together,” you laughed, “I remember pulling Loki from his books so we could make it on time.” You giggled at the memory.

“Máni? I haven’t ever heard of him retiring from pulling the moon. And Gaea has been sleeping for eons.”

“Our history is different, perhaps. I do not exist in your Asgard, yes?” You continued to walk, choosing the fourth passage from the left that led to the waterfall beneath the palace.

“No. No, I’m afraid not.” Loki paused in thought as he contemplated your assumption. Surely you must have existed somewhere in his world. “So what was so forbidden of their love?”

“Where I come from, Gaea was truly the first realm to exist, made of the blood and dust from a time even beyond her. In an empty universe, she was lonely, though she was a goddess of life itself. So she collected more dust in the reaches of space and breathed life into Máni. He was born, bright like the stars and light in his heart. He was grateful for life, and in return, he gave her his love… and her children. The mortals. But when they came close to embrace one another, he came too close and scorched the earth, burning her children. Gaea mourned, crying until Midgard flooded with her tears. From the water, the plants regrew and the animals emerged, but still, she missed her children. Máni couldn’t bear to see his love so saddened, so he sacrificed almost all of his power to breathe new life in the mortals. He grew dim and small, no longer so mighty without Gaea’s magic. Now in a realm of eternal darkness, Sol had finally caught up to Máni. She was born with the duty to bring light to the mortals, but Odin also tasked her with the job to separate Gaea and Máni when they became too close. Every day, she shines her light on the earth, but when she goes to rest, Máni returns to see Gaea before Sol wakes up once again to warn Máni. Yet sometimes, Máni can’t help but to come a little bit closer to Gaea—the rising tides his only warning. We call it the Perigee.”

“And what of Lofn? How did she contribute her skills in this forbidden love?”

“Oh yes. Lofn told us that she was the only being to give her consent to their love. The rest of Aesir vehemently rejected the bond. She used to try and match all the children up in the village and she would host all the play weddings. We must have been married by her hundreds of times. She could never resist the idea of the God of Mischief with a maiden Vanir.”

The sound of water crashing down into the abyss grew louder and louder as natural light started to creep into the passage.

“What is your role?”

“My role?”

“Yes, what do you do? What do you reign over?”

“Oh, I’m really no one. I don’t even think the Midgardians are aware of me. My role is quite insignificant compared to the likes of your brother or even the infamous trickster.”

“What is your role, Goddess?” he pushed once more.

“Seidr,” you shrugged, racing your finger along the stone wall.

“I would hardly call that insignificant. The power of prophecy is a force to be reckoned with.”

“I was born with a divine title, but I can’t even perform a healing spell,” you admitted.

“Your husband never taught you?” Loki smirked, the tease hanging loose from his lips.

You frowned. “No, he couldn’t.”

A rumble of footsteps approached and neither you nor Loki hesitated to make a final run towards the end of the tunnel. As you started to gain some speed, you suddenly froze, completely still as a hazy orange light encased you. Loki’s hand glowed green, battling against the force that trapped you, but just as quickly as he tried to free you, he was captured.

The TVA launched you through the exact same process as the first time. Long lines, an infinite number of signatures on documents you didn’t understand, and a maze of doorways. You didn’t see Loki again for a long time. It felt like days, but in a place as distorted as this, you couldn’t keep track of the hours.

Another agent guided you into a holding cell. It looked strange—more like an inn room more than a jail. There was a bed, a tiny washroom, and a square box that showed what looked like a play for children. The characters chattered silently while their simple dialogue was scrawled in the glass. The door opened.

“It appears we’re roommates this time.” Loki strolled into the room and the agent closed the door behind him, the lock clicking in place.

The box flashed and the program changed to the man you had just become acquainted with before your escape. “Well that was fun, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, we will have to keep you here since you didn’t seem to enjoy the more open kind of hospitality we offered you last time. Just until everything is processed. You know how bureaucracy is. I’ll see you in a few.” Mobius winks and the moving picture contraption clicks off with a warm hum.

“Tell me about myself.” You looked up from the book provided by your captors. Loki leaned back in the desk chair with his legs on the table. He fiddled with a glass cup, tossing it in the air and catching it.

You dropped the book in your lap, still open. “I’m sorry?”

“Well you were married to an alternate version of me. He’s lived more life than me. Surely you must have something to tell me that would be of use.” He shrugged, not bothering to drag any more of his attention away from the glass.

You were sure you looked surprised as he followed his answer with, “Am I so different from him? Come on now, he must have been at least half as charming.”

“Oh… He was charming.” You closed the book and placed it on the table next to the bed. The edge of the sheet rubbed between your fingers while you considered what to tell him. “He was my best friend in childhood.”

“Tell me about the children. The younger versions of yourselves on that day. What were you doing?” Loki placed the cup on the desk and crossed one leg over the other.

It was so easy to answer. In all the years, you never forgot that particular celebration. “It was my idea to climb the hill. To pick flowers before we watched the Perigee. Lofn had paired us up for her little wedding ceremony to host in front of the children and I wanted a bouquet… for the morning gift. I didn’t know what they were at the time, but I figured it could be anything.”

“Aren’t morning gifts usually given to the bride? And… in the morning?”

You tossed your head back in calm, tired laughter. “Yes, but that wouldn’t have stopped me anyway. I think I gave them to you after we said ‘I do.’ We were… eight at the time.”

“Goddess Divine…” He kissed her hands. The red skyline fades into purple as the water at the dock darkens below. “Never doubt my love for you. Will you miss me?” said he.

“As much as there are stars in the sky.”

“Always the poet’s tongue,” said he.

“Well, I had some inspiration,” said she.

He looks wearily past the Goddess, but smiles warmly once more. “I’m afraid our time has come to an end, Goddess. I love you.”

“No resurrections this time...” No. It was supposed to happen like this. Thanos. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It’s happening all over again.

“LOKI—”

Warm water tickled your cheeks and then you were enveloped in a pool of water. Your husband’s arms wrapped around your waist as the water climbed the walls of the tub. No, this wasn’t him… It wasn’t him. It wouldn’t ever be him. “Goddess…”

“Let me go! Let me go… I want to go.” You grasp desperately at the edge of the tub, wringing yourself from Loki’s grasp. You fell onto the tile floor of the washroom, your wet clothes heavy on your back.

“Wait, just—” Loki cuts himself short when you stumble into the bathroom doorway and pull the knob to the bedroom.

“Shit—Loki…”

“You need—”

“Don’t tell me what I need! You don’t kn—know.” Your body felt weak. The walls felt like they were closing in on you. No matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you could never get enough air.

“I know being alive is certainly better than suffocating in space.”

“Is it!? I can’t even grieve for him! Be-Be… Be—cause I… Becau—se I ke-keep…” You choked, breaking out into a violent sob. Your legs buckle underneath you, but you managed to catch the ground under your hand. Tears stained the fabric covering your lap as you struggled to breathe in between your bawling, forcing you to hiccup only further fueling your frustration. “Why am I here?”

Loki knelt down and watched as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head in the space between. “Heartbreak is… a sorrow that I am all too familiar with. The feeling of your chest burning and freezing and being crushed all at once. But I didn’t give you a moment to simply… catch your breath after I, admittedly, forced you to escape with me. And I will never understand what it’s like to have to look at the face of your husband every minute of every day, but I do know this…” Loki let out a steady breath. “I will never leave you behind. Ever. Until I am able to fix this mess that I have brought upon you.” Loki lowered himself onto his knees. “That is my vow to you, goddess.”

He placed a hand over yours. It was a small gesture, leaving you wanting more. You tugged on his hand, manually tucking his arm underneath yours. He leaned into your motion, sitting on the floor behind you and pulling you close between his legs. Your eyes pierced him like venom, toxic but more addictive than the sweetest wine. A Goddess Divine.

Loki grew older in recent years, but his eyes had never changed. A sea of chaos and calm. He was there, your husband. Right in front of you, holding you.

“I always liked your eyes,” you murmured. You dragged your finger across the top of his cheek, tracing a line under his eye.

And I, yours.

You slid your finger up and cupped his face in your palm. Your husband. “I love you.”

Your lips swept gently along his; hesitant, yet your hand dragged through his hair, pulling him closer. Loki held still, but made no move to stop you. Your breaths grew harder as you grew more persistent. Even though you knew you would never be able to utter a word about this after, the need for him overcame you. In the sickest of ways, he was your only chance at truly saying goodbye to your husband.

Never doubt my love for you.

Your lips were soft. As irrational as the better part of him knew it was, he couldn’t help but think this felt almost habitual. He knew he should have pushed you away or reminded you of who he was. But when your fingers glided through his hair, Loki lost all sense of what was proper. He leaned into your touch, letting you relax in his lap as you continued to kiss him… eyes clenched shut. Loki wished he could look at your eyes and pretend he was the man you were pretending he was.

“Thank you.”

The agents dragged Loki to a door labeled “INTERROGATION ROOM #603521.”

An agent walked into the room, reviewing several documents attached to a clipboard.. “Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Laufeyson?” She didn’t bother to look up from the papers as she sat down in the seat on the other side of the table.

“Where is she?”

“I’m afraid your questions will have to be saved for the end of this, Mr. Laufeyson. Please comply.”

Loki lifted his head lazily, shifting his legs wide in the metal chair. A grin curled at his lips. He didn’t know how they were going to escape this hell. Running from an infinitely powerful force existing beyond time. It would never end… Was he ready to drag you through eternal hell with him?

Yes.

He would rot in hell for all he cared, but the TVA was no more than a joke—a circus of clowns playing their parts… and he would find you.

“I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”

“Never teleport me again. This is worse than the Bifrost.” You placed a clenched hand to your forehead and winced. The pounding in your head was ceaseless, though you were too cold to be completely tortured by it. The TVA was left in shambles, subjected to Loki’s wrath after he found you freezing in the depths of space. He hadn’t said a word to you since he discovered you, nearly lifeless. The ice burned your skin and your vision was useless for the time being. You could hear the crackles of flame and stone beneath your feet. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know, but we need to heal these burns before they scar.” Loki carefully lifted your hand, examining your wounds. “Are you in pain?”

“I can’t feel anything. Just cold.” You inched your feet closer to the heat of the fire. It wasn’t as painful as you had expected it to be. Dying in space wasn’t such a bad way to go… You only wished Loki had anything else less painful.

He hummed in response. The burns begin to warm. A peculiar feeling tickles your skin and makes its way down your torso.

“Seidr?”

“My mother taught me. I can teach you.”

“What?” Loki placed more wood on the fire. Perhaps Thor’s boyish interests were good for something…

“You need to learn how to use your powers. A seidr goddess is no goddess without seidr.”

“I told you. I don’t have it. I’ve tried. You’ve tried.” Loki didn’t answer, but footsteps fell away from you.

Loki watched the asteroids floating in the foggy atmosphere. Odin once told him stories of how he acquired all his wisdom. Life itself is knowledge, he would say. War, politics, distant planets. They all have something to offer, but there is a place where wisdom flows like water in the roots of the Tree of Life. “The Allfather once traveled to the roots of Yggdrasil to attain knowledge and guide his reign. Perhaps we can go there.”

#perigee #loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader angst #loki x reader fluff #time travel #loki tv series #TVA #tom hiddleston #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki x you #loki x y/n #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #loki (marvel) #loki imagine #time travel!au #reader insert #magicmanias #dearspacepirates