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thedrarrylibrarian · 1 year

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I was so excited to invite @caroll-in for our March Happy Hour! I did it as a little treat for myself - I've loved and been a fan of her art for such a long time (I love the bold lines, bright smiles, and the way she does hair. My favorite part is how she draws people who look like they're having a good time with each other! Partners look happy together.) I've been so excited to see what recommendation she'd come up with. She did such a lovely job, and even was able to find a rec that I hadn't read yet! I fell in love with her recommendation and I think you will too! Without making you wait any longer - here is the lovely @caroll-in!

I can't even describe the joy I felt upon receiving an invitation from @thedrarrylibrarian to be the guest of the March Happy Hour! It's an honour to be able to contribute a rec to this fantastic blog!

I'm gonna take this opportunity and rec a fic I’ve always wanted to do a proper post about as it's one of my all-time favorite long fics in the drarry fandom. Written for the @hd-fan-fair fest of 2021, it was the very first fic by Romaine that I have ever read and, most importantly, Romaine's comeback to the fandom after an almost decade-long break. And what an epic comeback it was!

This Ain't the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424 (131,466 words, rated E)

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids.

Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores.

This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term. The assumption is that 'all is well' in the British Magical world, and that Hermione Granger-Weasley will easily be voted in as the next Minister for Magic. However, Draco knows better. He knows she has a strong competitor who is wooing those who live in Knockturn. And if he wins, the Ministry, and all that has been accomplished the previous twenty odd years, will be destroyed.

"This Ain't the Garden of Eden'' is a brilliant political fic following Harry's campaign to become the Minister for Magic. What I feel is the most important thing to point out here are his motivations to become a candidate in the first place. This Harry is one we all know and love but since he's in his forties, he's also more mature and has had a chance to figure himself out throughout the years. Even though he very much still enjoys the thrill and action (which he has plenty of, working as a Hit Wizard when we first meet him in the story) he also still cares and is ready to step up and help however he can—this time without being manipulated. Everything he does is done through his own decisions. I love how well Romaine executed that part because after people pulling the strings behind his back for half his life, it's really heartwarming to see Harry still wanting to save the Wizarding World, on his own terms. He won't take the risk of losing everything he and his friends worked for after the War—especially when he realizes how much still can and should be improved. His main political opponent (I hope it won't be too much of a spoiler to say this) is based on Trump and brilliantly so, making the reader root all the more for Harry's success. And for those of you worried it might be too much politics for your taste, please note the "case fic" and "action/adventure" tags on the story which very much *deliver*.

Romaine takes the well-known canon world and expands it, making it so full of details and innovative magical theory (which I bet y'all are fans of as much as I am!) and introduces us to many new magical places, not only in the UK. It might not be a fic about Wizarding Houses and Grimmauld Place per se, but I promise you—those of you who enjoy this trope won't be disappointed either as the fic features a stellar subplot catering to it. We also get a new take on the Knockturn community and their culture and meet many new brilliantly-written original characters who I couldn't help but fall in love with (and I am sure you will too!). Of course, I also have a lot of love for Romaine's characterisations of the characters we know from canon—from Ron, Hermione and the Potters' kids to Scorpius and Narcissa. And Kingsley Shacklebolt, who very much deserves his own shoutout here—I can honestly say it's my very favourite take on him and I'm not being dramatic, he *is* fantastic in this story and I can't wait for you guys to meet him!

And finally: DRARRY. I deliberately saved the most important aspect of this fic for last and I hope I didn't give you the impression this story isn't about them! The main plot circles around the elections and is super captivating on its own, but it's Harry and Draco's relationship we're all here for and the way Romaine wrote them is honestly perfect! As I already mentioned, they're in their forties and, therefore, more experienced and more mature, willing to calmly take a look at the other to see and appreciate how much they changed throughout the years. Thanks to that we can skip the drama unnecessary for this story and have them form a fantastic partnership—both for the cause and as lovers. The pace of their relationship is so well-written and we get to see it develop as the story progresses. Don't think, however, that it's all smooth and easy—their trademark jealousy and banter are very much present to spice things up a bit! Romaine was generous to give both Harry and Draco many quirks and habits that the reader gets to discover along with them but I don't want to spoil your fun by listing them here—you need to trust me, you're in for a treat! One more thing, because it actually might be my favourite: remember the classic fanfic trope of a character recognizing the scent of their love interest's hair? Romaine's take on it is simply stellar and takes it to a brand new level. Everything from their first kiss (!!!!!!), through the smut scenes, to the moment they're finally ready to confess their love is a pleasure to read and I envy those of you who will get to read it for the first time!

And if, after finishing this fic, you won't be quite ready to leave the universe Romaine created just yet, I have great news for you: for the 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2021, she wrote "25 Additional Scenes for This Ain't the Garden of Eden" which features extra scenes from the main story (also a huge rec!).

Once again, many many thanks to @thedrarrylibrarian for having me here and for giving me an opportunity to give some extra love to one of my fave drarry stories! <3

Thank you again @caroll-in for taking the time to join us and write this wonderful recommendation!

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Friday!

#caroll-in #caroll in #friends of the library #guest happy hour #happy hour #friday happy #the drarry library happy hour #lots of love and happy friday #friday happy hour #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry/draco #draco/harry #harry potter/draco malfoy #draco malfoy/harry potter

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shiningdesignersreflections · 9 months

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Chapter 4: Changing Moon

Narrated by Qingyue.

~Content Warning: death and related depression~

Narrator: The day before the Mid-Autumn Festival, I finished embroidering the last blue feather on the dress.

Narrator: To make it, I ran all over the West Market to find the best brocades and the softest silk.

Narrator: I made the clouds with the golden and silver threads, wishing Cloudcrest people and my father a safe journey.

Narrator: In the evening, dark clouds accompanied by strong winds covered the clear sky.

Narrator: I stayed in my residence, waiting for the news about my father.

Narrator: The marching route had been filled with red circles. My father would come home after taking another city.

Narrator: In the pouring rain, the cry of the messenger broke the night. The galloping horse brought the battlefield report to me.

Choose "What does it say?"

You: What does it say?

Narrator: It says Cloud... was defeated.

Narrator: In the last battle, Cloud troops were ambushed. My Lord fought hard, but was caught in a rain of arrows and died.

Narrator: I looked at the few words again and again, as if I could see my father's wounds and him saying he's fine.

Narrator: The recipes I had written for him were never going to be used.

Narrator: Had I known this earlier, I would have spent more time accompanying him instead of collecting those prescriptions.

Narrator: I will never see him again.

Narrator: I don't remember what happened afterward. Before I knew it, I had traveled all over Cloudcrest.

Narrator: Cloud had just suffered a great loss in the war. The city was no longer lively and appeared almost covered with a dark veil.

Narrator: Without kids around the stall, the shiny candies looked like teardrops in the moonlight.

Narrator: From the alley came faint sighs as well as laughter.

Narrator: Wearing the dress and the headwear, I walked to the newly built Cloudcrest Pagoda to the sound of ceremonial drums.

Narrator: I could see the entirety of Cloudcrest from here. The lights flickered, blessing reunions and commemorating bygone relatives.

Narrator: At the Mid-Autumn Festival ceremony, people in the city were looking at the pagoda and the bright moon above it.

Narrator: They, like me, were thinking of their family members who passed away.

Narrator: The moon was pretty bright. It's a rare full moon.

Qingyue: Will Father see the bright moon? Even if he misses the ceremony, will he watch the same moon together with me elsewhere?

Choose either "He will" or "Maybe he couldn't see it."

If "will," ...

You: The moon shines everywhere. Even if he is not by your side, he will be able to watch this bright moon.

Narrator: Thank you.

Narrator: But I know, after today, he won't be with me for every Mid-Autumn Festival in the future.

If "won't," ...

You: I don't know... Maybe he can't see it anymore.

Narrator: He didn't make it back home.

Narrator: After today, he won't be with me for every Mid-Autumn Festival in the future.

Narrator: In the moonlight, the jade on my waist made a clear sound, the radiance on it getting brighter.

Narrator: I realized that the image of the bright moon over the sea in my dream became the lights of the city in front of me.

Narrator: The wistfulness in the entire city suddenly poured into my ears.

Narrator: Orphans who have lost their parents were crying for warm hugs and the elders lamented their lost children.

Narrator: I kept hearing voices young and old. A familiar voice reached my ears. It's Jade.

Narrator: The letter at her feet told her that her father got involved in the war on his way back and was never to return.

Narrator: The whole city was filled with the same wistfulness.

Narrator: In the moonlight of the Mid-Autumn Festival, I wanted to see my relatives again.

I want to see him again.

Narrator: A sudden wind shook the blue beads on the crown, reflecting the light under the moon.

Qingyue: The moon shone thousands of miles, beckoning for souls to return.

Narrator: In the moonlight, blurred images and voices gathered like water becoming a tidal wave.

Narrator: The moonlight condensed into countless specks of light, softly encasing those images and sounds and drifting away.

Narrator: It looked like a layer of snow covering the bleak Cloudcrest.

Narrator: The lights glowed wherever they went as if the dark veil was lifted, revealing the lights that shine within.

Qingyue: For this Mid-Autumn Festival, let the light of wistfulness fulfill people's wishes.

Narrator: For a farewell, for a reunion, even if it's for the last time.

Narrator: Amongst the countless, dazzling lights, I saw my father's smile.

Narrator: Life is short and things always change. Compared with the universe, reunion and separation are only a moment.

Narrator: But people still love and miss someone, even if they are away, even if they are gone forever.

Narrator: The lights scattered into the moonlight and became eternal.

Narrator: The clear sound of the jade came from a distance, like a call from elsewhere.

Narrator: A gentle force lifted me. The moonlight carrying the wistfulness gradually became warm.

Narrator: The city lights drifted away. The lights around me gradually vanished into the clouds in the eternal moonlight.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

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whatisonthemoon · 1 year

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UC Member Serving in Vietnam Asks Young Oon Kim if Killing Communists in Justified

Taken from the March 1968 edition of the early American UC publication New Age Frontiers: Letter From David Flores Duc Pho, Vietnam

Dear Miss Kim,

Greetings to you and to all the Family in D. C. and area.

I send my love to you and pray for your further success in that area. I hope all is well and that those who live there are growing well.

As for me, I am in excellent health, though a little tired. For the past three days we have been wading through rice paddies and searching out small villages. Our area of operation is in and around Duc Pho, a small town about 350 miles northeast of Saigon.

The areas we have covered are very green (rice) and there are many gardens in the midst. At present I am sitting in a garden where squashes, onions, tomatoes, pumpkins, coconuts and eggplants and hot peppers are grown. Here and there are stalks of corn along with banana trees as well. We are flanked by green mountains to the west and north. There is a small river which runs by here and the whole area is just beautiful. I am really surprised.

Now, the main reason for my writing: Again, it is to request advice from you. As you know, I am no longer working as a clerk but as an infantryman. There was absolutely no way for me to avoid this assignment. Had I been more insistent in Germany about changing my MOS to clerk, I might have avoided this, but as it stands I will be combing rice paddies and carrying a gun for a year. Though we have had no actual encounters with VC, I don't expect that we can go a year without this. Already we have found many storage areas of excessive rice, black cloth, ammunition, etc. in our small area of operation.

My question is, what should my attitude about killing be? Regardless of how one looks at it, it is immoral and against God's law. Can I really proclaim God's message and carry a gun in my hand? Though some may think that we are defending our country and way of life, to include religion, I don't think murder is ever a part of God's plan. On the other hand since I am here, should I shoot back in self-defense or in defense of my comrades? To disobey an order to shoot could mean five years in prison or life imprisonment. Were this a declared war it would mean death. One fellow I know is already in jeopardy of this course of events because he believes it is against God's law to kill.

It is a farce for one to think he is defending his country. Our nation needs no defense against North Vietnam by means of this illegal, immoral and unjust war. Will God forgive me if I kill in self-defense? If not, then I might as well decide a course to take -- either prison or spiritual death. Please give me your thoughts on this matter.

I long to write and say more but time does not permit. I hope and pray that all is well with Family. Please give my greetings to Phil, Rebecca, Marty, and everyone else. Linna, Nora, Sylvia,

Once again I bid farewell and wait for your reply.

In His Name,

Dave.

Reply From Miss Kim (Excerpts) Young Oon Kim Washington, D. C.

Dear David,

I have been rather worried about you since the street fighting started in Saigon and major cities in Vietnam. I am very happy to hear from you and am thankful to know that you are okay. Thank you for your previous letter, which I shared with others, and we appreciated your report.

In both letters I see two major questions: One is, why do we not explain the Divine Principle differently from the textbook, to appeal to the people more broadly? You wonder why it must be so conservative and Biblical and Oriental. This is why many have asked in America and in Europe as well. Many working in America have tried to find a more broad method to appeal to the American populace.

I encountered the same problem many times, and I felt that I would like to change the terminology which seems to be distasteful to the ears of ordinary people. I often felt that we should not include the conclusion in our lecture, which again stumbles many people. I have been rather stubborn in maintaining the original text of the Principle, and because of this there has often been a strong feeling of rejection toward me.

I face this problem time and time again. In fact, our Leader himself is facing this problem. Divine Principle is as strange a language and concept to Orientals as it is to Americans. Certainly it is not a modern concept or language to them at all. Even though their thought is less sophisticated and their heart is less hardened by worldly things because they do not have physical amenities like the West, it is not easy for them to accept the Principle either.

There is less distraction in their search for God. Their hearts are hungry, their spirits thirsty for God and His care because there is little physical comfort to please them. But certainly the Divine Principle is not a readily acceptable message to them. Even though there are less material comforts, scientific knowledge and awareness of latest developments in all fields sweep the world through the mass media. There is no gap in their understanding of current discoveries and events, and therefore no cultural vacuum into which Divine Principle can slip easily. Besides journals and translations, many Orientals were educated in the West and receive scholarly publications and news magazines directly. If the Divine Principle is distasteful to the ears of urban Americans, it is just as distasteful to urban Koreans.

If we are to change the presentation of the Divine Principle to suit the American thinking, certainly it can’t fit the thinking of the Germans. If we modify it to fit German thought, it will be distasteful to the French mind. If it is pleasant to the French ears, it will be distasteful to the English ears. And the English presentation may not appeal to the Italians and Spanish. The Latin approach would not fit the Japanese. The Japanese method will not appeal to Hindu thought. The Hindu approach will antagonize the Moslems. The Moslem approach will be Greek to the Chinese.

Which method should we choose, then?

If the presentation of Principle is to be modified so that the scientist can agree, it will not be agreeable to the artist. If we are to modify it to appeal to artistic sensibility, philosophers will disagree. If we use the philosophical approach, pragmatic people like farmers and businessmen won’t understand. We cannot present the Principle to please the social scientist and psychologist without alienating the fundamentalists. If we please the fundamentalist, then liberally-minded people will be upset.

Toward whose viewpoint should we modify the Principle?

My thought traveled in these areas many, many times and I discussed this matter also with our Leader. Each time he insisted that we should use one textbook for every country and person, and standardize our teaching. Sometimes I feel I am torn between him and you all. But considering all these above-mentioned difficulties, I see why our Leader insists. Not only is a universally acceptable modification of the Principle impossible, but any attempt in this direction will be disastrous because the true content will be lost in the change. Therefore, I think our Leader is most wise to insist on one method.

Japanese people after World War II experienced a spiritual vacuum. Our members are, in the majority, born during or after the War. Divine Principle had meaning for them where Japanese religion had none. Therefore, the membership has increased in number somewhat abnormally there. Also, it is their national characteristic to follow absolutely once they accept a leader. They identify themselves wholly with the teaching and each one is dedicated and active. There are no members who didn’t take part in trash collection and street preaching. Even now a great number of them sell flowers, whether they are undergraduates or have master's degrees. Every day they sell flowers and preach on the street. Like the army, once it is decided, they perform without question. This is a unique national characteristic.

Their obedience to orders, cooperativeness, and sacrificial spirit are the main factors of their success. Do the Westerners have the same qualities in their national character? Westerners are so individualistic. They must rationalize every command and they always try to find the easy way instead of straight suffering. This kind of attitude may bring success in the Satanic world, but not in the heavenly world. It was not different presentation of the Principle but their attitude toward the movement that brought their growth in Japan.

Last year, when our Leader could not obtain the American visa, he decided to bless the Japanese members anyway, though he could not come to the western world.. The Japanese members refused to be blessed. He had chosen certain candidates, but they refused for this reason; The work in Japan has just started. If some married, the work would regress in the resulting check of progress. Can this attitude be found in the western world? I often hear the expression of desire for marriage when one is absolutely not ready in spirit and one has no concern about the progress of the whole movement, but just wants to be blessed in marriage. This is a most selfish attitude. But it is one I hear expressed.

Such people place the blame for the movement's not progressing fast enough either on me or on the Principle, without examining themselves.

Some members seem to think that it is an easy message for the Koreans to accept and therefore they were able to get many strong members. This is not true. It is just as difficult there as here to get strong members.

I have seen members who attempted to dilute the Principle and who lost spiritual power and gradually declined and dropped out, one by one. However, those who teach faithfully according to the textbook get successful results and spirit world works through them, not through those who are diluting. The depth of the Principle is not known to many people. Those who do not know the depth have no right to change the expression.

However, I have been encouraging members to use diverse, creative methods in contacting people and introducing them to the Principle. I encourage people to lecture each chapter straight, However, I also encourage them to bring all their knowledge and experience to bear on answering the questions which their students raise after the lecture. In this way we can standardize the lecture and give full explanation to insure understanding.

The concept and the feeling of God is so distant from the mind of modern people. Hence, to bring anything about God into their thinking cannot be easy. It is not just the Principle that is remote, but God Himself is also.

As I have said many times before, we are now building the foundation of the new America. If we make all effort to obtain great numbers of wishy-washy people without true understanding of the Principle, we can never build a firm foundation. God can never trust those people. Do you think this is the success of our movement? We are to establish an unwavering tradition and a precise, clear pattern of life for our posterity to follow unmistakenly so that things can be established.

When our vertical relationship with God and with our Leader is firmly established our movement should expand horizontally. Can this be done with half-baked people?

I will attempt to answer your second question. I am convinced that any ideology can be destroyed by a higher ideology, not by weapons. Here I feel great responsibility of expanding our movement and spreading this message as widely and quickly as possible. Communists will change their ideology only when they hear the Principle.

But when they use military force and threaten people in order to bring them to their side, the innocent people must be protected in some way and be allowed to live as they would like. Is this not the reason American soldiers are sent to Vietnam -- to check the Communist invasion and protect the free people? When military means are successful, the Communist invasion will be checked, just as Hitler's Nazism was checked by military force.

You said this war is not declared. Declared or undeclared -- this is a political matter. To check evil, whether it is declared or undeclared, the war has a just purpose. The sad aspect of this war is its great prolongation. Because of the guerrilla tactics the end cannot be brought quickly enough. Moreover, the Viet Cong conviction seems stronger than the conviction of Americans. For the Viet Cong it is an immediate, life-and-death matter. But for the American GI -- well, it is a fire next door -- no, across the street, We say, "a fire across the field" -- far in the distance.

All wars are tragedy. You have read about it, heard about it, but now you are facing it for the first time in your life. You are now placed in the midst of the most tragic scene of human life. Sitting in a comfortable room, I have no right to advise you on this matter.

In a sense, physical death is not an ultimately serious concern. To God’s eyes, the physical death is no more tragic than the spiritual deaths of innumerable people.

It is true that by dying physically the Vietnamese loses the chance to hear the Divine Principle, but how remote he was from that possibility anyway! Millions will be born and die without hearing it. The great mass of Chinese are under the Communist ideology. India is under false teaching and many there are starving. Even in America, is there not much tragedy? If we are in communication with the heart of God, our sorrow will be unbearable.

David, since you understand God's new dispensation, your life is precious to God because God can restore many lives through you. He would like to preserve your life at all costs. You must cooperate with the Father in the preservation of your life, not only for your sake, but for God's sake,

Killing anyone in battle cannot be compared to murder under any other circumstances. It will not bring the same effect on your spirit. If I hate someone and kill him, it is my evil will and desire to kill that particular person. But if two nations are in battle, no one kills from personal malice, but from the will of the commander, whether it is a nation or an ideology.

If you are confronted by an enemy and preserve his life, if he then immediately turns to good, then it is good to save him. But, supposing you preserve his life and then he ungratefully kills numerous people on your side. What is gained? You must transcend your personal feeling and avoid thinking in terms of person-to-person, or you will suffer from constant inner conflict and even risk your own life by your indecisiveness.

You must pray -- and I will pray for you -- not to encounter a difficult situation. Commit your life completely to the hands of the Father and be close to Him. I only pray that you will avoid all danger under His protection. All of us in our Family here remember you in our prayers.

Our door-to-door witnessing every Sunday afternoon is quite encouraging. In December and January we received some forty new members throughout America.

Keep in touch with us, even with short letters and cards. We just want to know you're alive. I just hope that this war will quickly end. I send my prayer and love to you.

POSTSCRIPT:

As the New Age Frontiers, was about to be printed, Washington Center received letters from David which we would like to share with all the Family:

Beloved Family,

Excuse this rushed and somewhat ragged note, but in the midst of the chaotic situation in which I find myself, I can do no more. Please, for all of you who have written me, accept this as an answer to all your letters. I will try to write you individually if I have time. I give thanks to our Father and praise Him for this opportunity to serve Him here in Vietnam. I am proud that He chose me for this mission but pray that His humility will be in me as I work for His kingdom here.

Let me first inform all of you of what I am doing -- just briefly. I've been assigned to an infantry unit which, as you might have guessed, is utilized completely for search-and-destroy missions. We are operating in the area of Duc Pho, which is about 150 miles south of Da Nang. I am presently being utilized as a rifleman. We comb rice paddies, mountains, and villages -and whatever else comes in our way as we search for "Charlie." The unit is relatively new in Vietnam, having arrived in December. This area is reasonably safe though we have encountered Viet Cong at least three times since my arrival.

Mainly we just spend a lot of time searching, which means walking, and walking, and more walking. Generally we go out for a week at a time carrying rations for three days, our bedding, water, and about 240 rounds of ammo each. On the average we carry about 40 pounds on our backs. It isn't bad but when you walk about 14 miles per day with this weight your feet really ache -- and, oh, your back! We've been out for eight days now and last night we climbed a mountain which was so high it took us two and a half hours, upstream. Other than that, our work is the same routine. We go into base camp maybe once a month, so you can see we haven't much time to write, except at times like now when a squad pulls perimeter security.

Now, as the Father's work goes here, I haven't had a great deal of time to do anything but pray. And so I've asked the Father to accept all this as indemnity. I don't know yet what my ultimate purpose must be here, but I am certain that my Father can use this to His advantage.

In the infantry, the morale and spirit of the men varies quite widely. I find that only the thinking people are still the ones who seek spiritual understanding. Too many of the men are very narrow-minded and cannot comprehend thoughts beyond themselves -- very selfish and ignorant. I say ignorant because they don't realize what life beyond self would be. There are men, however, who think somewhat in universal terms.

While in Chu Lai I spoke with two fellows who were really interested in Divine Principle. One even told me he believed that the original sin was the "sin of origin,” sex. Another fellow is facing court martial because he will not shoot the war is immoral, illegal, and unjust. Three fellows here already have asked me today what I believe and what our church teaches. I just gave them a short introduction since they were playing pinochle. The pinochle players are the thinkers. (I'm learning to play the game!)

The [New Age Frontiers] serves as a point of conversation. Everyone is curious what it is. I feel more and better opportunities for witness will come up. With your prayers and Father 's energy, I will be an adequate channel here for Him.

Your many letters have served to push me onward and the [New Age Frontiers] has encouraged me more. And I am proud that I am a part of Unified Family and that so wonderful a family is mine. Only the love of the Father led me to you and it is such that will maintain me, I feel, as St. Paul expresses -- that trial and tribulation make me more steadfast and nothing will separate me from the love of the Father. Brothers and sisters, continue the fight, support your leaders and praise the Father for this great truth.

In an earlier letter, David wrote:

I flew out of Oakland 13 January and arrived RVN 15 January. I arrived first at Long Binh and then went to Chu Lai. While at Chu Lai, we came under mortar fire and rocket attack -- one ammo dump destroyed, six jets demolished. No personnel at our camp were killed, and only three injured. More damage was done to hooches and tents. I also received six~day RVN training while there. Unfortunately, I've been assigned as an infantryman to this unit. I've been out humping hills and rice paddies for about two weeks now. (February 16.) My platoon is nice. I'm not sure where to start witnessing. A great deal of the men seem too dense to even care about the world situation, which is ironical since they are here. The intelligent ones aren't necessarily the best choice either. I'll just have to "hunt and peck" for a while. I look forward to the day when all men will seek spiritual values and not materialistic.

Our hearts are with you, David!

#vietnam #viet cong #communism #Anti-Communism #young oon kim #violence #vietnam war #unification church #unification church in the united states of america #unification church in usa #unification church in the united states #ex-moonies #patriarchal violence

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wack-ashimself · 2 years

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I was not a fan of the ending of Strangers things 4...

Of course, spoilers.

It felt like the WHOLE season was leading up to 'to be continued' cuz outside of papa finally dying (love how they NEVER covered how he survived being attacked by a monster in the first place), and them tying all the seasons together, you get absolutely no closure. No real character growth either (outside max and 11). They only have a cameo of dustin's gf, and she's fucking adorable! I will admit, tho, I am glad they went full murray this season. He makes every scene pop!

#1-Eddie's death was unneeded and dumb. Him stalling the bats did NOTHING for ANYONE. We all knew SOMEONE had to die, but bringing in a character and killing them off seems to be their motif (see max's brother). Eddie was...better than almost every lead. Seriously. You fucking dicks. And it was such a pathetic death too. Know how I guessed he was gonna die? ONE scene just before he died with dustin, wrestling, and saying 'don't you ever change.' I was like 'that is totally a last line of a dying/going to die person.'

#2-Either the trio being caught by the vines/tentacles happened WAYYYYYY WAYYY after almost everything else OR the bad guy didn't want to kill them. Cuz they were on those walls a LONG fucking time. But the editing/timing of that scene was fucking dumb.

#3-the whole 'we killed the bad guy, oh wait, he's wounded, and he ran away to do bad deeds another day' HAS BEEN DONE YOU LAZY FUCKING FUCKS! Seriously, I could not NAME all the movies and shows that did that. It's growing as I speak I bet...know who that panders to? Simple children.

#4-This wasn't the finale, but it bugged me: bringing in a neck bomb device to control 11 only for it to be removed MINUTES later? No fucking point in even fucking doing it. Just keep her drugged or something. Cuz if she is there to save the world, threatening to kill her helps literally no one. Not even the doc. Makes NO sense. 'Last ditch effort' to do WHAT? If he kills her, they're all dead. WHY even threaten?

#5-You coulda easily killed the hippie stoner pizza dude. He...was okay. But kinda like the vanilla in neopolitan ice cream: the last part anyone wants...

#6-Max isn't dead. Bad guy kidnapped her to feed off of her or some lost in limbo thing. Otherwise, they would have straight up killed her. So it's not really...interesting. Or a 'what's gonna happen.' Trust me. If they 100% killed max, I'll eat my words but...as my best friend said about her 'she's my favorite on the entire show.' She is LOVED by fans. They won't kill her. She's...too big to fail. lol

#7-I wanted the reunion of 11 and hopper way sooner and longer. It was like one of the best moments of the series, and you guys didn't even milk it. I usually ain't one to say milk a scene, but get a big pail and MILK THOSE SCENES IN THE FUTURE!

#8-a white straight dude threatening to break the arms of a small black girl? That does sound like the 80s...made me uncomfortable tho. The things you could do/say before the internet....would blow your minds.

#9-I know it's all about the looks/screenshots, but far FAR too many scenes do NOT look natural. Entering/exiting always felt....choreographed. The scene where they all look at the dust/ash coming from the sky, 11 marching up front and touching the ground? None of that felt real. Why would all of them stop perfect....it's just...it looks good, but not relatable, real, or authentic. It's almost accidentally breaking the 4th wall by going 'remember this is a SHOW! So let's give them a performance. Dance monkeys.'

#10-The parents, like all of them but joyce and hopper, are terrible fucking parents. They just don't care. It's more about appearances with them.

#11-The bad guy controls almost all living things in the upside down, but doesn't consider, once, to have a couple attack dogs guarding his body? I know by the time they got to him, he was weakened, but they didn't even show the unconscious bodies of the things. BATS was your go to? And your only line of defense besides vines? What a dumb mother fucker. I'm sorry, but if I was a bad guy in any of these shows, it'd be one episode. I'd win, everyone would be dead. These bad guys are so...cocky, they don't think. Which...ok, saying it out loud: maybe he was SO confident of winning, he didn't believe he'd need attack dogs? But,. still, WHY THE BATS then? There's just so many plot holes/errors in his judgement....

#12-the final fight scene was boring. I waited HOURS to get to the big fight, and it was lackluster. Everyone remembers the rock concert on the trailer. No one cares about the vecna/11 fight. I mean, we ALL knew exactly what was gonna happen. It happens EVERY season. 11 doubts herself, looks to be down for the count, then magically thru sheer will power & friendship becomes a god....so by the books. The final season better make it good.

#13-so...on the run from a government organization looking to kill her....and....she...goes....to...her old house? They have hopper's addy. When ANYONE sees hopper, they will know where he's at....and why wouldn't the government go to check on ALL her known associates and locations? Just....it's a nice scene, but entirely impractical.

#14-The little kid sister is my personal fav character. She stands up for what is right, EVERY TIME. NO character has done that. Every single one has kinda sold out at one point. Ok, maybe not dustin...but he's like a teddy bear.

#15-...............no one working a pizza place at anytime in history would just let you do what you want in their building for a joint unless they hated their job, knew they were quitting and moving away. Hippies aren't even that stupid or giving.

#16-paul reiser's character better be alive. I like him. (he's also hilarious in the boys season 3. Is this his comeback?)

#17-again, not the ending, but papa had to be shot THREE TIMES WITH A MILITARY SNIPER? Is that explaining how he fought off the dog monster in the previous season? Cuz he's fucking ripped or something? Those bullets GO THRU. They do not stop. He had HOLES in his body. And if he truly cared for 11, why wouldn't he remove her collar IMMEDIATELY. She could have saved your dumb evil life. Everything with papa pissed me off cuz it was 'all over the place, we'll figure it out later' (and they never did. HOW THE FUCK DID YOU BRING BACK SOMEONE WE THOUGHT WAS DEAD AND NEVER ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN IT! DICK MOVE!!!!!)

#18-seeing that white boy jock get confronted that his gf wasn't perfect, flip out, and get the shit beat out of him was fun.

#19-I also did like that they failed in the end, but...that, again, just leads back to the whole 'to be continued' vibe of this season. This whole season was backstory and foreshadowing. Nothing seems to matter this season except moving to next final season. Outside of the story of vecna, 11 and hopper meeting...this season was filler for the most part. It was WAY better than last season, but that's only cuz they finally made all the seasons connect.

#20-you could have killed hippie dude, any of the parents outside hopper and joyce, even any one of the leads minus dustin (they aren't that good at acting as I thought....some people do get worse the more they do something. Mike and Will were fucking awful in practically every scene this season), but you TOOK EDDIE YOU FUCKS! It deserves two points on this list!

So yeah. I don't care that they killed eddie, per say, but how/why he died was fucking stupid in every sense of the word. Go out in a blaze of glory? Nope. Fall off my bike and get picked to death by murder bats. woot woot.

I may just watch the last episode of the next season. Just get to the meat of it. Cuz....it took about 5-6 episodes for this season even to be interesting. It's not a horror movie. Maybe sci fi thriller, but it's not scary. I don't think ever once this series scared me. So quit trying to do dark/foreboding scenes and MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN!

End of rant. I had type this or scream this, and I am not in a yelling mood just yet....

#spoiler #spoilers #stranger things #stranger things 4

0 notes

basiccortez · 2 years

Text

A Song Unknown- JTK: ch 2

note: Happy Wednesday children! I had wrote this and changed it around a bit so hopefully there aren't too many errors. But anyway like always: REQUESTS AND ASKS ARE OPEN:)

also if you want to be added to a tag list (for either this series, the baby series, or an imagines) let me know. I'll probably create a little tag list sheet thing to fill out within the next couple days.

warnings: cursing (I think that's it)

Jake was up early the next morning, sitting in his backyard, strumming his ukulele absent minded. Josh stood in the kitchen, feeling the nervousness radiating off of his twin brother, not being able to quiet place what was going on with him. Karen was busy taking out the cinnamon rolls from the oven.

"How was last night?" Karen asked, placing another pan of vegan cinnamon rolls in the oven.

"Great," Josh smiled, "I'll always love playing for the hometown crowds."

"Julie said you guys stopped over last night," Karen said, "I'm happy you guys saw Y/N. I invited her over for breakfast, I haven't seen that girl in ages."

"She's the same but different all together. There's just something about her." Josh said, sipping on his cup of coffee.

"Have you met TJ? He's the sweetest little boy. She brought him back for Christmas last year when you guys were in LA for a recording session." Karen said, "It was so nice to have a child around for the holidays."

"No, We didn't, or at least I didn't," Josh said as Sam sauntered in, looking like the kiss of death, "This is why we should have never let you two start a drinking game."

"Shush it," Sam said and Karen laughed, setting a cup of coffee in front of the lanky boy. He looked up and smiled at his mom as he began to put cream and sugar in the cup.

Josh set out to the back yard, eyeing his twin. He could hear him mumbling some words and writing them down. Jake was gifted in songwriting, which actually surprised his twin. Josh remembered the panic that was set in Jake as he waited last minute to write papers in high school.

"I like that," Josh said sitting down in a chair next to him, "Got a name?"

"Not yet," Jake said sitting the ukulele down next to him.

"You came home late,"

"We all did." Jake deadpanned.

"Later than the rest of us," Josh rolled his eyes, "You two. . . "

"Nothing happened. Her uh. . . TJ. . . he woke up had a nightmare and so she put him in her bed." Jake said, "He's three, and has brown eyes and brown curly hair."

Josh squinted his eyes and looked at his brother, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He was born in March," Jake said.

"Again, what does that- No. . . you two? You think. . . did you. . ."

"I haven't even asked." Jake said, "I was going to last night but stopped myself. She had driven from Nashville all the way here with a three year old, I'm guessing it was going to be hard to get him to sleep. And how the fuck do I ask her that? Just show up on her door step and say 'hey, I think your kid is my kid?' That sounds kinda douchebaggy if you ask me,"

"You're right, it does," Josh said, "Do you have a plan then?"

"Wait it out," Jake said, "If she's the same girl that I remember, the guilt will eat her alive, and she'll tell the truth if he's my kid eventually,"

"Do you wish he is?"

Jake froze, "I-I don't know. I don't know if I'm playing shit in my mind because I'm not really over her, or because I strongly believe TJ is my son,"

Josh nodded and looked at his brother. They sat in silence as the back door opened and Karen called out to them to come inside for breakfast. Jake stood up, taking a deep breath as he was about to face Y/N. Josh went in before his twin and hugged Y/N again. Jake's eyes fell on the little boy in Sam's lap, who was eating away on a cinnamon roll.

"So this is TJ," Josh said walking over and standing next to his younger brother, "Well damn Y/N, you really said copy paste."

Y/N laughed and looked at her sone who's eyes were now big from the sugar he was ingesting, "I'm glad someone sees it. My mom swears up and down he's got his father's looks," Y/N looked down at her hands.

Jake sat down at the table across from TJ and Sam, not taking his eyes off of him. TJ was a cute kid, and Jake could see what Josh meant when he said 'copy paste'. The little boy really did look just like Y/N, from the crease in his eyebrows to the way his nose curved slightly to the right. Y/N sat down next to TJ, ruffling the mess of curls on his head before kissing his forehead.

"What's on your pajamas, TJ?" Jake asked.

"Chase!" TJ yelled with a bright smile.

"Oh my gosh really?!" Josh said in excitement. TJ giggled and fell into a conversation with Josh. Y/N smiled at how easy Josh got along with the toddler.

Jake pushed himself up from the table after he was done eating and walked over to Y/N, "Walk with me?" He whispered. The girl nodded her head and stood up following Jake, not before warning the boys to keep TJ out of trouble.

Jake waited for Y/N outside, as she stepped out into the brisk June air. It was still a tad chilly in the morning, and Y/N threw on one of Jake's sweatshirts before following him down the street. The two walked to the closest park and over to the swings. Y/N sat down and then Jake with a sigh.

"Been awhile," Y/N said, kicking her feet back and forth lightly. The park was deserted at this hour except the two of them.

"It has," Jake answered. It had been nearly 3 years since they had seen each other, "He a good kid?" Jake asked kicking the rocks under his shoes.

"The best." Y/N answered and pulled her phone out, pulling up her photos and handing the phone to him. Jake swiped through the pictures of him at swim lessons, or piano lessons, or dance class, or running around with the other 3 year olds on his soccer team, "I couldn't have asked for a better child."

"Was he a good baby? I remember people always asking my mom that question with Sam and Ronnie." Jake said.

"My pregnancy itself was rough, I had morning sickness the whole nine months. And morning sickness is such a bullshit term, cause it was all day. The birth was. . ." Y/N sighed and Jake took her hand, "The cord got wrapped around his neck, and I threw a clot. They rushed me into a c-section, and then rushed us both off, me to the ICU and him to the NICU. I didn't get to hold him for 2 weeks. I thought I was gonna go crazy just sitting there and looking at him through a plastic box."

"I can only imagine, you aren't the most patient person ever," Jake said and Y/N faked hurt.

"Me? Impatient?" Y/N said with her hand over her heart.

Jake laughed and rolled her eyes, "What does TJ stand for?"

"O-oh h-he's named after his father. . . uh, Taylor," Y/N stuttered.

"Taylor? You got with a man named Taylor?" Jake asked, his eyes squinting at her.

"Yeah," Y/N said strongly, "He's a good dad. Cares a lot for TJ,"

Jake shook his head and looked down at his feet. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, if he was upset that Y/N had loved someone else besides him or TJ wasn't his. His mind was drowning in confusion, "That's good. I'm glad he's got a good family."

"Yeah, we should probably get back," Y/N said with a tight lipped smile, "He doesn't need to be stuffed up with anymore sugar than the boys have already given him."

Jake chuckled and stood up from the swing. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, standing up with him. They walked, hand in hand, back to the Kiszka house. Small talk filled the silence, and they two of them just felt natural. Everything seemed to settle back into place around them. Jake's heart felt like it was at home in her small hands.

"Hey, what did your mom mean when she said she knew everything that happened in the house?" Jake asked Y/N as they got to the front door.

"You. . . uh, left your underwear, after that night," Y/N said turning red. Jake looked at her confused and then remembered.

"I basically tore your whole bedroom apart looking for them," Jake said his mouth falling open, "I convinced myself I had just free balled it and didn't have any. Oh my god, that's embarrassing,"

"It really wasn't that bad. . . Spiderman," Y/N laughed and Jake's face turned red at the mention of the comic book character that was printed on said particular underwear. Y/N opened the door and went in quickly to the house, that was filled with the giggles of a 3 year old boy. The boys had retreated down to the basement, where Y/N could hear the familiar banging of Danny's drum set.

Y/N walked down stairs to see TJ completely mesmerized by the way Danny and Sam were playing. He sat on Josh's lap, as Josh was writing down some lyrics to a song. Jake came up behind the girl and touched her hip.

"If you want, I can show you what's on my underwear now," Jake whispered in her ear and Y/N went flush.

"Don't be whispering dirty things in her ear, Jacob!" Sam scolded him, "Y/N, since you claim to have magical ears, can you help me with this?"

Y/N went over to Sam who was sitting at the piano. She stood over his shoulder as he started playing a melody. The girl closed her eyes, to hear and feel what he was playing. Jake looked at her in wonder, wishing he could see the gears turning in her mind as she moving her fingers in the air like she was playing the piano. He had seen her do this plenty of times, it was her way of writing and composing music. When Sam was done with what he had written, he moved off the piano bench so Y/N could have a chance.

Her fingers were like magic, as they played what Sam had just played, tacking on her own melody, changing it ever so slightly to make it fit. Jake sat down on the couch next to his twin. He grabbed a pen and a napkin and wrote down the words that came to his mind. When Y/N stopped playing, she looked at Sam sheepishly.

"That sound okay?"

"Did it sound okay? That was absolutely beautiful!" Sam said and Y/N smiled, "Play it again, I'm gonna record it."

Josh leaned over and looked what his twin had wrote down, squinting slightly, "Your mind is a stream of colors?"

"Hey!" Jake said, snatching his napkin away, "It's nothing,"

"No, I like it," Josh said and followed his twins eyesight over to the girl at the piano, "If you don't tell her how you feel, I'm going to. I'm tired of your pining love songs,"

"What do you mean?" Jake said looking at his brother.

"Mountain of the Sun? it's literally her love letter to you and vice versa. And don't get me started on You're The One-"

"Okay, okay, shut up," Jake said and went back to watching Y/N and Sam mess around on the piano. TJ wiggled off of Josh's lap and over to his mother. Sam quickly picked him up and wedged him in between him and Y/N. TJ looked at his mother in awe as she played Beethovens 5th.

"TJ play?" Sam asked and Y/N nodded removing her hands, "Show us what you got, kid!"

"Your first tryout, buddy, if you're good enough we might replace Sam with you," Jake said and Sam shot him a glare. TJ giggled while his little fingers found the right keys. Y/N watched as he pressed one and listened, trying to find the right key to start on.

"Middle C," He mumbled as he pressed the key down, "Mid E?" TJ looked up at Sam, his brown eyes wide.

"Yep," Sam nodded and TJ looked back down. He slowly started playing the treble line to Cannon D. Y/N smiled and ruffled his hair as he poked at the keys.

"That's actually really impressive, what have you been teaching him?" Jake said, now over by the piano. He was in awe by how talented the child was at a young age, which reminded him a lot of Y/N, "Perfect hearing?"

"I think so," Y/N said, "I asked his piano teacher, and she just said he is eager to learn. She hasn't really been able to build on it yet, mainly cause he doesn't like to sit still long enough,"

"Hey Y/N, does TJ have-" Danny started but was quickly cut off my the girl.

"No, Daniel, you will not be purchasing a drum set for my child," Y/N said.

"What about-"

"No, Joshua, you will not be purchasing a tambourine for him either," Y/N also said.

Jake snickered and put his hands on Y/N's shoulders, they watched as Sam took over playing for TJ. Jake wanted so bad to ask Y/N to ask if he was possibly TJ's father. And then it dawned on him, what if she didn't know. What if she believes he is this Taylor guys son? Jake didn't want to embarrass her, so he pushed the thought out of his mind and enjoyed being in the moment with Y/N.

They all spent hours down in the basement. Y/N and TJ moved to the couch to watch the boys mess around and try to put things together for a song. Josh had explained they are working on their next album. Josh had also begged Y/N to come with them on their writing trip.

"I can't just leave Josh, there's more to than just myself," Y/N said looking at TJ who was curled up on the couch, asleep.

"He can come with!" Josh said, eyes wide.

"We both know that's not ideal for a 3 year old to be," Y/N said matter a factly. Her hands were slowly patting TJ's back as small snores left his lips.

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

Once TJ woke up, Josh came up with a grand idea of going swimming at the Parker house. TJ was all for going swimming with his "uncles". Y/N got him dressed in his paw patrol swim trunks and secured his life jacket, before he went running in and belly flopping into the pool. Julie had invited the boys over for dinner, and was busy prepping things in the kitchen.

"Mom, did you get the vegan burgers?" Y/N asked looking in the fridge as Julie was cutting some peppers up.

"Yes, top shelf," Julie said, "How are things going with him?"

Y/N sighed and looked down at the burgers in her hand, "Well, I guess,"

"Y/N. . . "

"I didn't do it!" Y/N said, and Julie shook her head setting the knife in her hand down, "Mom, I feel so fucking guilty. It's eating me alive every day that I look at him. He'll hate me, I can't tell him and lose my best friend. I can't lose any of them!" Tears were starting to form in Y/N's eyes.

"The longer you keep this from him, the more anger and resentment he will have against you," Julie said, "He's not going to hate you forever, but he's going to be upset. It's life changing news."

"He's going to want things I'm not ready to give him. What if he wants to take TJ? Or do the whole house bullshit? I can't live without TJ, and there's Tayler,"

"Oh, I forgot about him," Julie said waving off her daughter.

Tayler Carmichael was an up and coming rapper, that Y/N had met at the recording studio one day. She had literally ran into him, spilling coffee on his faux leather and apologizing profusely. Tayler said that she can repay him with a date, and that lunch at some Greek restaurant was over 7 months ago. Tayler's career wasn't really taking off, so he basically had to move himself into Y/N's house. TJ didn't mind, liking having someone to play Mario Cart with, but Y/N sometimes found Tayler too childish. And not to mention, she strongly disliked his music.

"You need to tell him, preferably before you go back to Nashville," Julie said, pointing her knife at her daughter.

"Okay, okay, put the knife down," Y/N said putting her hands up in defense. Julie chuckled and handed her a bowl of watermelon to go take to the boys in the pool.

Y/N turned on her feet and walked outside only for a wet three year old to run up and hug her tightly. She grunted at his weight hitting her legs and picked him up. She kissed his cheek before blowing a raspberry against his sun kissed skin.

"Did Uncle Sam put sunscreen on you?" She said moving his hair out of his face.

"Yes, I did." Sam said, "Tell her what we practiced TJ,"

"Uncy Sammy is the best," TJ whispered and Sam looked around proud of himself, "But he smells,"

"Hey!" Sam said and looked over at Josh and Danny laughing, "You teach him that?"

"Possibly," Danny said. Y/N laughed and set her son down, watching as he ran over and jumped straight into Danny's arms, "He said he wants to grow his hair out too."

"Like Uncle Danny!" TJ smiled and threw his arms around his neck.

"Okay, the hair is fine, but if I come home and you guys are showing him how to light a poster cut out of Florida Georgia Line with hairspray and a lighter, I'm going to have to have a serious conversation," Y/N said sitting down in a pool chair.

"You not getting in?" Jake asked looking at her.

"Eventually," Y/N said looking at the boys, "Don't want to steal the show. Besides I uh. . . have the c-section scar. It's kinda ugly," Y/N now felt self conscious without the encouragement from alcohol in her system and the sun beating down on the earth.

"Impossible. Your body has always been a work out art," Jake said and Y/N felt heat rising in her body, "Come on, if you can swim with Sam drunk at 2 AM, you can swim with me sober."

Y/N smiled and stripped off her shorts and t-shirt before walking over to the stairs and slowly getting into the pool, shuddering at the cold water. TJ swam over to her with the help of Josh and his life jacket, and grabbed his mom's hands.

"Showing them how you can swim?" Y/N said helping him stand on the stairs.

"Yes!" TJ smiled and put his face in the water before lifting it out, "They let me jump in the deep pool, but they caught me!"

"No way!" Y/N smiled and Jake waded over to them, "You swim with Jake too?"

"Yeah!" TJ smiled brightly and lunged at Jake who caught him quickly, "To the deep end!"

Y/N smiled watching as Jake swam into the deep end with TJ on his back, and watched as he would catch him as he jumped in. She finally saw what her mom had been saying for 3 years now. It surprised her that no one had asked about TJ's dad or said how much he looks like him. She was actually shocked that Josh said TJ looked like her. Every time she glanced at TJ, she always saw the carbon copy of him. From the eyebrows, to his nose, TJ was his dad's twin.

Y/N swallowed her thoughts and swam into the deep end with her son. TJ squirted the water gun right in Sam's face, making him dramatically flop down in the water and go under. The little boy's giggle and smile were contagious, everyone couldn't help but smile. Y/N let him swim for a little bit longer, before pulling the sun-kissed boy out of the water and drying him off for a nap.

"Need help?" Jake asked as she took TJ's life jacket off.

"Yeah, Actually," Y/N said drying off TJ's face lightly, "There should be some snack size packages of crackers in the pantry, and he should have a sippy cup of milk in the fridge, can you grab that? I'm gonna take him upstairs to change and get ready for a nap."

"Yeah, I'll meet you up there," Jake said, put stopped when he heard TJ ask-

"Can Jake read me a book?"

"I'm sure that he can, buddy. Let's go get changed into some jammies, and he'll bring your snack upstairs and he can read to you," Y/N said and Jake couldn't help the smile that arose on his cheeks before walking into the house.

Y/N followed behind him, holding TJ on her hip as she took him upstairs. She let him pick out his pajamas, he chose the Iron Man ones he had got for Christmas. Y/N got him dressed and combed his hair as Jake came up with his snack. TJ grabbed the first book for Y/N to read, 'GoodNight, Tractor.' TJ sat on her lap, and laid his back against her chest. Jake sat on the boys bed and watched as his brown eyes got heavier and heavier as Y/N read the book and rocked him slowly. When she finished the book, she stood up with him in his arms, and laid him on his bed.

"What book should Jake read?"

"Stellaluna," TJ whispered. Jake found the book on the dresser in the room and picked it up. The tattered cover and opened the cover page. His breath caught in his throat seeing the two hand-written notes in it.

'For Jake and Josh, Merry Christmas- love mommy and daddy'

'For TJ, my Jake loved this book too, Merry Christmas- love Grandma and Grandpa Kiskza'

Y/N adverted her eyes and let out a shaky breath. Jake cleared his throat, flipping the pages and began reading. Y/N rubbed TJ's back as he fell asleep for his nap. Jake finished the book and placed it back on the dresser as Y/N kissed TJ's head and tucked him. They both walked out of the room and shut the door quietly. Jake stood across the hall from Y/N and looked her up and down. Her face was unreadable, and the words Jake wanted to ask where on the tip of his tongue. Jake opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by Y/N's phone. Y/N looked at Jake, before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She looked down at the lock screened and frowned.

'Tayler <3. . .'

Jake didn't say anything as she stepped away from him and down the hall to her room. Jake watched her go and the door close. His mind was swimming with too many things. First, how did his parents know about TJ and not him? Two, he was still in love with Y/N Parker. And three, TJ was his child.

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taglist:

@kiszkawagnerwhore @mgk777 @kgllmre @trashx678 @jakekiszkasguitarpick

#greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet #greta van fic #gvf imagine #gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf x reader #greta van fleet series #gvf series #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake gvf #jake kiszka series

73 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 10 - Bad Influence [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s an extra chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Some nights are more hectic than others.

Series Masterlist

Oh hell no.

Tonight was supposed to be a normal night. Boring even. You were supposed to stay at home, watch a cliché horror movie, eat noodles and worry about whether your fake boyfriend, who didn’t know he was your fake boyfriend, was safe and sound on yet another secret mission of his.

Okay, maybe not that normal of a night.

But what was not supposed to happen was your ex-boyfriend showing up out of nowhere at your door.

“I know we left things off a little awkward but that’s no reason to point a gun at me. I was just doing my job.”

“Walk away,” you said, “Go back to the circle of hell they unleashed you from.”

“I heard you’re fake dating Barnes?” he asked, “He looks like your type.”

“I’m going to give you three seconds, then I will start shooting.”

He hissed in a breath,

“Except you can’t,” he stated, “You have to keep your cover. Milkshake waitress having a gun? People would start asking questions.”

“You’re right,” you said through your teeth, “A knife would be much more silent.”

“What’s taking you so—“ Keith called out but he stopped talking as soon as he saw you two. His eyes narrowed almost immediately and he took a step but you threw yourself in front of him, knowing he was about to punch him.

“Keith, I got it.”

“What the fuck are you doing here dickhead?”

“Nice to see you too Keith,” Julian said, “Am I interrupting something? I always kind of wondered what was going on between you two.”

“Ew!”

“If I didn’t want to punch you before, I certainly want to do it now,” Keith stated and you shook your head.

“I got it,” you said, “Really, it’s fine. Go back to the living room.”

He gritted his teeth, “I’ll fuck you up the moment I get you alone, Julian.”

“I can pretend to be scared if you want,” Julian deadpanned as Keith walked back to the living room and you tucked your gun into the waist of your shorts again, crossing your arms.

“So what crossroad is missing its demon right now?” you asked and he tilted his head.

“Y/N.”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say hi,” he said, “Is that so bad?”

“Yeah. Considering the shit you pulled, it is bad.”

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“No I really wouldn’t,” you said “What, am I supposed to believe you’re here to say hello?”

“Yep,” he said, “It’s customary to meet or re-meet your team leader on a mission.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him before you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Hey take it up to the General, I didn’t ask to be put on a mission where you play the honeypot,” he said, “Speaking of, is Barnes head over heels yet? I know how charming you can be when you want to, call it a first hand experience.”

“You’re not a part of my team.”

“I sort of am.”

“It’s my team,” you insisted, “I didn’t give okay to you being on my—“

“I’m afraid that’s above both of our paygrades,” he pointed out, “Nothing you can do about it. Trust me, I won’t enjoy this either.”

“Oh you won’t?”

“You think I will enjoy watching you have a relationship with the goddamn Winter Soldier?” he asked, “As fake as it may be, it will look real.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“So I take it he doesn’t stay over yet?”

You ran your tongue over your teeth, shaking your head, “You know what?” you said, “I think I’ve had enough of this bullshit for the night. It’s always a displeasure to see you Julian, fuck off now.”

You slammed the door on his face and ran a hand over your face, making your way to the living room.

“General put him on the team?” Keith asked, “Is he serious?”

“Looks like it,” you checked your wristwatch, “I need to talk to him. Do you think I can-”

“Don’t call the General right now,” he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence, “You’re angry, and I get that, so am I but wait until tomorrow.”

“Keith, he can’t be in my team!” you insisted, “He can’t be trusted, you know he can’t!”

“Hey,” he grabbed you by the shoulders, “I know. I know what he’s done, I know he can’t be trusted. But the rest of your team got your back, okay? Especially me and Chloe. What happened at that last mission won’t happen again.”

You threw your hands up, “Ugh, fuck this shit!”

“We got this—” he started but then your phone started vibrating on the couch, making you both turn your heads. You leaned over to check the screen, then snatched the phone off the couch when you saw Bucky’s name flashing.

“I should take this,” you murmured and made your way to the bathroom to close the door behind you. You jumped into the empty bathtub and answered the phone.

“Hi Bucky.”

“Hi darling.”

Even the sound of that was enough to make a small smile warm your face and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back to the bathtub.

“You could’ve just texted, you didn’t have to call.”

“Nah I wanted to hear your voice.”

Your smile widened as you bit down on your lip.

“I wanted to hear your voice too,” you murmured, for once dropping the act, “God, you have no idea what kind of a terrible night I’m having.”

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, scolding yourself in your head. “Just a…just a bad night.”

“Girls at soup kitchen are giving you a hard time?” he asked and you let out a chuckle.

“No,” you said, “I just heard some less than ideal news.”

“Do you need me there?”

You raised your brows, “Aren’t you on a secretive and highly dangerous mission?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll come if you need me. Do you?”

The clear difference between your ex-boyfriend and your current, albeit fake boyfriend was impossible to miss and you felt your throat getting tighter before you coughed.

Fuck no, you didn’t cry.

The last time you genuinely cried was when you were 16, and quite frankly you had no idea if you were even capable of doing it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, “It can wait. Date night when you come back though.”

“Of course.”

“And actually I’ve been thinking about that,” you said, “It’s my turn, right? To pick the place?”

“Mm hm, we last went to Brooklyn.”

“So I was thinking what if we did one modern and one old times?” you asked, “I can pick the modern dates and you can pick the old times dates.”

“Huh,” he said, “That’s a good idea. Wait, you’re not going to drag me to one of those nightclubs, are you?”

You giggled, “Would it be that terrible?”

“Please don’t do that to me.”

“You don’t like dancing?”

“Not that kind of dancing.”

“You know, I keep waiting for you to actually utter the words ‘back in my day’, but it’s not happening.”

He chuckled, “Back in my day, we wouldn’t call that dancing.”

You hummed, slipping a little in the bathtub, “Good point,” you said, “So okay then, it’s settled. I got the modern and you got the old dates covered. What does that entail anyway? Home cooked meal dates?”

“Nope,” he said, “We’re dating, not married.”

You pulled your brows together, “How is that relevant?”

“Me being at your place or you being at mine would be very frowned upon,” he tut tutted, “Us together, without anyone else. Inside and privacy and all. Scandal, there’d be lots of gossip about your virtue.”

A clear laughter escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth with your hand, trying to pull yourself together.

“Right, my virtue,” you played along, “So I take it you have never been alone with a girl back in your day then? Since virtue was a huge deal?”

There was a pause on the other line, “I mean it wasn’t— it wasn’t that huge of a deal for everyone…” he trailed off, and you clicked your tongue.

“But overall, no Netflix and chill?”

“What’s Netflix and chill?”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to ignore the warmth at the pit of your stomach, “I know you hate to hear it, but you’re so cute.”

“No I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” you taunted him, “I won’t tell anyone.”

You heard Sam calling his name and there was a shuffle before he cleared his throat.

“I gotta go,” he said, “Promise to be safe?”

“Right back at you.”

“Good night sweetheart.”

“Good night.” you said and hung up, pressing the phone to your lips before you shook your head at yourself. You got off the empty tub and opened the bathroom door to step out, then found Keith busy with the noddle boxes in the kitchen.

“It’s still hot, and I took the liberty of texting Chloe,” he said, “She’s on her way.”

You tried to offer him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grabbed the chopsticks, “But we might want to finish Scream before Chloe gets here, because knowing her, she will make us watch a rom-com.”

***

You should’ve known trying to change the General’s decision was a lost cause. He listened to your multiple reasons why it was a bad idea to have Julian in your team, but you could’ve been talking to a wall and it still wouldn’t have made a difference.

“I’m aware of your past with Julian,” he said with a sigh after you were done listing your reasons, “Trust me, this wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

“It’s not about my past with him, sir.” You forced yourself to say, “He can’t be trusted. He’s not a team player, he doesn’t think about anyone but himself-”

“It wasn’t just my decision to make him a part of the team, it was all your superiors’,” he said, “We believe that you’re professional enough to pull this off.”

You gritted your teeth, “Sir, it’s not—“

“He’s in your team and a part of the mission now,” he cut you off, “You’re dismissed, Shrike.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms and nodded, then left his office to march up to Chloe and Keith who were huddled over Chloe’s desk.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s not going anywhere.”

Keith clenched his jaw while Chloe heaved a sad sigh.

“I can try to talk to him if you want, but…”

“It won’t make any difference,” you said, “I know.”

Keith crossed his arms, leaning back to the desk, “I mean we could always poison Julian.”

“Keith.”

“Or he could get caught in the crossfire. Spies die like flies, you know that.”

“Don’t say that!” Chloe exclaimed, “You guys are spies too and I already feel way too worried about you.”

“No worries, the only type of death Y/N will get from Barnes is la petite mort.”

You smacked him on the arm, “Fuck you, we’re not sleeping together yet.”

“But you sort of want to,” Keith said, “I heard your giggling last night while talking to him.”

You shifted your weight and threw your shoulders back, “Yeah, so? It’s my cover.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to fuck his brains out.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer!”

“I’m kind of excited about that too,” Chloe said and both you and Keith turned to her.

“Please tell me you don’t want to sleep with Barnes—“

“No!” Chloe said, “No I just… when Y/N wants to, we’ll go and get some vintage inspired lingerie so I’m excited for that.”

“We’re not going to do that Chloe.”

“Yeah, let the guy see the good things 21st century has to offer Chloe,” Keith winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what, I didn’t give you shit when you were the one undercover in Brazil and had to—“

“Y/N,” Julian’s voice reached your ears and a shiver ran down your spine, making you clench your teeth, “You have a minute?”

Chloe stole a look at Keith who glared at Julian while you raised your brows.

“Not for you Julian, no.”

“I just joined the team, you have to update me.”

“Actually she doesn’t because I already gave Sarah your file and I know that she gave it to you two hours ago,” Chloe stated and Keith nodded.

“Yeah and you’re standing a little too close, so why don’t you step back a little?”

Julian shot you a look, “Seriously? And you’re okay with this?”

“He’s right, you’re standing a little too close,” you stated, making him sigh.

“Y/N, we’re on the same team,” he reminded you, “We need to get along.”

“Actually, you’re on my team,” you corrected him, “I’m the leader in here. So technically, I don’t have to get along with you. You have to get along with me, seeing that you work under me.”

A small arrogant smirk curled his lips. “Wouldn’t be the first time I worked under you,” he said, “Brings back the memories.”

Your eyes narrowed and you tilted your head.

“It really does,” you mused, “The memory of the most boring ten seconds of my life, you tranquilized mattress.”

Keith snorted out his coffee while Chloe gasped, staring at you. You smiled at Julian sweetly, then grabbed your phone.

“Well, I’d better go,” you said, “Some of us have a mission to lead after all. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Have fun,” Keith said without taking his eyes off Julian, “I know we will.”

You winked at them and walked out of the bullpen, grinning to yourself.

***

The following two days were an actual disaster. Bucky wasn’t in the city so you had nothing to do and nothing to report about. Not only that, you had also made it your own mission to avoid Julian but so far that mission had been a success.

You were beginning to suspect Keith and Chloe had something to do with it.

There was also something at the pit of your stomach. Something that made you both sad and uncomfortable at the same time, like an itch you needed to scratch and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

Chloe had this genius theory of you missing Bucky, but she was absolutely wrong.

You were just done with counting the money and locking the register when you heard the wind bell by the door chime, but you were way too busy with trying to place the mason jars on the shelf to even look around.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you said but there was no answer. You froze for only a second before the spy in you kicked in and you grabbed the mason jar tighter before reaching out to grab the nearest knife. The footsteps didn’t signal that it was more than one person and you would throw the jar and judging by the angle of his shadow he would probably lean left to dodge it and that would be when—

“Hi beautiful.”

You whirled around, still holding the jar tight before you dropped it on the counter with the knife, staring at Bucky standing by the door.

“Oh thank God….” you rushed to jump into his arms and he caught you, lifting you off the floor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. Somehow just his presence was enough to make up for these last terrible days and you closed your eyes for a moment while his hand cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hi,” you giggled as you pecked him on the lips, “I didn’t know you were back!”

“Oh we just arrived,” Bucky said as he put you down, “Sam went home and I came here. He says hi by the way.”

“Hi back,” you said and the duffel bag on the floor caught your eye, “Wait, you literally just arrived?”

“Mm hm.”

You hummed, pinching his chin between your fingers as you turned his face, making him smile.

“No bruises,” you commented “That’s a good sign. You scared me though, I thought you were a robber!”

“Yeah, speaking of,” he said, “Where’s your friend?”

“Tara? She had a date, and the part timer had an emergency, so I’m closing today.”

“By yourself?” he asked, “That’s not exactly being safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you taunted him, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Glad to be back,” his smile widened, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh you don’t have to, you know I live close by. You should go home and get some rest, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Y/N,” he said patiently, “It’s night time—“

“Meh, evening more likely.”

“It’s dark outside,” he said, “I’m walking you home, come on.”

You thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Okay,” you said and looked around to see whether you had missed anything, then grabbed your jacket and switched off the lights. He adjusted his duffel bag over his shoulder as you locked the shop then you both started walking.

“So I take it the mission was a success?” you asked, entwining your fingers with his vibranium ones. He still wasn’t used to it and he hesitated for only a second before he held your hand.

“Something like that.”

“How are you going to celebrate?”

He frowned, “Celebrate?”

“Yeah!” you said, “A nice thing happened, why wouldn’t you celebrate it?”

“We don’t really… celebrate missions.”

“Why not?”

He thought for a moment, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “Can I- can we celebrate it then? Together?”

“Oh we absolutely can,” you nodded, “How does tomorrow sound? It’s my time to pick the date, and I’m picking a bar with lots of celebration drinks.”

“There won’t be any dancing in this bar, right?”

“Not yet,” you wiggled your brows, “But I’m warning you, I have plans. We will push you out of that comfort zone of yours.”

“My shrink would like you.”

You tilted your head, “Is that a good thing?”

“Yep,” he said, “How about you? Do you feel better?”

You heaved a sigh and made a face, “Trying.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, “Anything at all, I’m serious.”

A small smile warmed your face and you looked up at him.

“It’s fine,” you said “Thank you for asking though. It means a lot.”

He squeezed your hand like he was trying to assure you and you turned around to see him better as you stopped in front of the building.

“I’d ask if you wanted to a cup of coffee upstairs but…” you sighed dramatically, “My virtue and all.”

“Right,” he played along, “Of course not. We can’t have your neighbors get the wrong idea.”

“No chaperone or anything…”

“I’m astonished you’d even think of such a thing miss,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and you bit down on your lips.

“Well, thank you for being the perfect gentleman, mister,” you taunted him, then stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, his arm around your waist tightening. He looked down at you as you pulled back, that soft light crossing his eyes again.

“Good night Bucky.”

“Good night,” he stole a kiss from you again and you giggled, then made your way into the building. You took the elevator and as soon as you reached your floor and stepped out, you found Keith fumbling with his keys by his door. He looked over his shoulder and you tilted your head, staring at his blood stained clothes.

“Why are you covered in blood?”

“Why are you grinning like a high schooler with a crush?” he asked back and you tried to control your expression. “Something tells me the answer to both of those questions is the same.”

“Mission?”

“Mission.”

You hummed and went to unlock your door as well while Keith leaned sideways to his doorframe.

“At least one of us is having fun on missions,” he pointed out and you curled your lips, shooting him a look.

“Aw you poor baby,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not and you know why?” you pointed at him, “You didn’t bring me coffee the other day.”

He gasped dramatically and you let out a laugh, then closed your door behind you.

“That Barnes guy is a bad influence on you young lady!” he called out before closing his door as well and you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I think you might be right.”

Chapter 11

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #tfatws bucky #marvel

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

I miss her too

Pairings: Dad!Tom Holland x reader

Summary: Your and Tom’s daughter comes home having made something at school, for you. She desires to share it with you any way possible.

Warnings: sad, typos, mentions of death

Word Count: 1.3K

A/n: I’m back. Hoping to start part 2 to Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas. This a short blurb or possible one shot, whatever you call it. Still new to this. Wrote this spur the moment. Flashbacks are in bold.

Tom made it a priority to have dinner every night with his daughter, Poppy. It was a tradition that you reinforced. One that Tom liked to keep around even after. You would cook all these elaborate meals And Tom tries to live up to your cooking skills but would ultimately fail and seek the help of Sam.

Tom set the table and served Poppy as she sat at table, swinging her legs back and forth. There, sat the 5 year old girl, across from Tom. He watched her as she fiddled with her fork, just rearranging the veggies on her plate, not bothering to eat.

“So love, how was daycare?” Tom inquired curbing as he watched his daughter fiddle with her fork, just rearranging the veggies on her plate, not bothering to eat.

“We made cards for mumma’s day,” Poppy explained all giddy inside.

“Mother’s day?” Tom asked, his mind drifting elsewhere. He couldn’t believe it was already May and it was the first one without you.

“Yes, mine has pretty flowers on it. Wanna see it?” Poppy grew excited she practically jumped out of her chair.

“Sure baby doll, you can show me after dinner,” Tom murmured, still caught up on the fact that it was almost 5 months since.

“I’ll go get it!”

“Poppy wait, wash your hands first, please.” Tom called out but knew Poppy would carry on just like before. That girl marched to the beat of her own drum but Tom indulged in every beat. She is the spitting image of you.

“Here, look I wrote something.” She said holding the card up in front of him. It was adorned with glitter and stickers. Pink construction paper, pink flowers and pink doodles. Pink was Poppy’s favorite color, everything was pink from her shoes to her hair bows.

“C’mere lovie, show me,” Tom whispered, pulling her into her lap. “Darling this is so beautiful. What did you write?”

“It says, happy mumma’s day mumma. I love you soooooo much. I miss you too, so does dadda. We miss you.” She said with her faint lisp.

Tom listened to his daughter struggle to get the words out. Focusing on her breathing as she sounded out most words. He tried to only focus on that. Not letting his mind to stray to place he has been avoiding for a few months.

Next week marks the time stamp of living 5 months without you. Without your smile in the morning. Without your laugh that was so infectious at the time it would make your newborn giggle til she was burdened with a case of the hiccups. Without your love.

Life grew darker and sadder, but Tom didn’t give himself the chance to grieve. Too busy worrying about the life you both brought into the world. The girl that lite up his life was his only priority. Everything changed when his beautiful and amazing family of three became a two.

Tom now rarely took jobs outside of London, wanting to stay close for Poppy. He felt guilty always leaving her with his parents all the time. No one really knows how kids at the age process a loss but he hoped Poppy would remember all the amazing moments of you.

Ones that held a special place in his heart were right after the sun had risen. Poppy’s wake up calls.

She did the same thing since he can remember. Always busting through the door in the morning. Jumping on t bed then begging for food. It was good thing you were a morning person.

One time when you were weaker than you had ever been, she jumped right on top of you.

“Mumma! Dadda! Wake up!” You were jolted out of sleep from a shock that rang through your fragile frame. You gasped at the sudden body slammed on top of yours.

“Poppy Marie Holland! What did we talk about being careful with mommy? Honey are you okay?” Tom shouted quietly.

“I’m ok, Tom. I really am,” you said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry Mumma, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Poppy whispered.

“It’s ok baby, c’mere. So what did you dream about my flower,” you said, pulling her into your lap as you peppered kisses all over her face. Giggles erupted as you pressed a finger to her nose.

“Well I dreamt of…” Poppy would trail off to these fantastical dreams. It amazes you how she could think such imaginative scenes.

Every morning was like that. Different topics of conversation but always began with a dose of Poppy bright and early.

Even after everything. It was a grad adjust for her. One minute you were there and next you weren’t.

Tom’s nightly routine shifted. Every night he would go to sleep dreaming of you. Dreaming of the life you were supposed to share. And every morning he would wake up with tears in his eyes as he felt the empty side of the bed.

Desperately trying to bring himself back to the place with you in it. It was a gut punch every morning, always coming to the realization that you were gone.

However, like clockwork he is reminded of the one shining star in his life as she bursts into his room and hops on the bed. Jumping up and down to get him to wake up.

“Dadda, wake up. Wake up!” Poppy shouted as she waddled up to the bed, trying to climb on. Her nightgown was a little too big, but she wore it because you had.

“Daddy’s awake lovie. Just one second.” Tom jolted, brushing the wetness from his eyes.

“Come on, I want pancakes,” Poppy pleaded.

“Pancakes huh? Mommy’s specialty with Mnm’s inside?” Tom reminisced at all the mornings of breakfast together as a full family.

“Ya, can momma make them?” Poppy asked, it was hard for her to understand the events that just occurred. Tom wasn’t very good at explaining it either. The most he could muster up, is mommy’s not here anymore.

Leaving out the word “dead” or “passed away” was denying the truth from him as well. It was all too new and he didn’t know how he could accept it just yet.

“Lovie, we have talked about this remember? Mommy is not here anymore.”

“When will she be back? I miss her.”

“Umm, darling mommy is never coming back, remember baby. I told you mommy had to leave but wasn’t her choice. Lovie, I miss her too everyday,” Tom said, holding back tears.

“Dadda?” Spoke Poppy as she noticed the wet streaks across Tom’s face. Trying to bring attention back to her.

“Yes, baby.” Tom said, coming out of his trance. Tears riddled his face as he thought of all the stuff that Poppy will miss out on. More specially what you will never get to experience with her.

“Why are you sad Dadda? Did I make you sad?” Poppy asked, trying to comfort Tom the best way she knows how.

“Oh no darling. Not at all.”

“Are you sad because you miss mumma?” Poppy mumbled, her eyes getting stuck to the ground.

Tom just nodded and pressing soft kisses to her forehead. He could only hold back so many tears.

“I miss her too. You never go to the place anymore where you talk to her. I want to talk to her like you do,” Poppy pleaded.

“Lovie what place?”

“The one with the statues. You never take me anymore. We only went twice with nana. But no more,” Poppy said as she started to cry along with him.

“The cemetery?” Tom asked.

She nodded, sniffing away the tears. “Mumma misses us like we miss her. I don’t want her to think we forgot about her. I made the card because. I want to give her my card. Can we go?”

“Yes baby, I’ll take you. I promise you, you’ll never forget her. I even have videos I can show you later with her in them,” Tom explained.

“Dadda I love you,” Poppy said wrapping her hand around his neck.

“I love you too, my flower.”

Masterlist

A/n: sorry the ending sucked, endings are hard

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland masterlist #tom holland fan fiction smut

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bittydragon · 3 years

Text

The Ant King

Note: Huge thanks to Bittydragon for inspiring me to write this. I’ll be honest, this is the first fic I've ever actually written, as well as the only piece of creative fiction I've written in like two years so… fingers crossed it goes well hahaha.

TW: tight spaces, darkness, uh,,, bugs i guess. Near death experience

There are things you have to know about ants when you get an ant farm. Basic fundamentals. What to feed them, how to keep them alive, what type of ants you have, etcetera. Even if your intentions were… torturous. After all, you need to know what makes something tick in order to make it stop.

One of the more common facts about ants is that every colony has a queen. She orders her ants to keep her alive so she can make more ants. Simple biology, the continuation of a species. Every nest has a queen, or it dies.

Apparently, this colony didn’t get the memo.

These thoughts buzzed in grumpy circles around Wilbur's’ head as he followed his ant companion, Tommy, deeper into the ant-farm. They had been wandering these tunnels for what felt like days now, in the center of the farm so there were no glass barriers to show the outside world. They were deep too. Almost at the bottom of the compound. Wilbur was not one to show fear, but even he was beginning to get claustrophobic.

Tommy, who up until now had been jabbering like a toddler the whole trip through the ant-farm had also gone uncharacteristically silent. The whole trip Wilbur had wanted nothing more than a few seconds of quiet from him, but now he missed the carefree noise.

They were on their way to see the ant King. A type of ant that, as far as Wilbur knew, didn’t exist. So either they were on a wild goose chase, or Will was way out of his depth.

The further they went, the more he was convinced it was the latter.

“Tommy do you-” Wilbur paused, his echoing voice in the tunnel almost felt like a taboo. An affront to the maddening silence that stalked them. He lowered his voice.

“Do you think… Will I ever get back to normal? Will the ant king change me back?” He hated that little quiver in his voice. He hated the uncertainty. The waiting.

Tommy continued to march forward silently, pondering the question.

“I dunno big man, I think you’ve changed heaps since you got here.” He turned his head to flash Wilbur a grin “Then you’ll be out there and all nice n shit. It’ll be poggers.”

The tunnel was dark, but not dark enough to hide the flash of uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes.

Wilbur's heart sank. “Thanks mate.” He mumbled, and they trekked on, once more in silence.

By the time they saw light, it felt like they had been walking for days. Wilbur was almost glad he was about to meet possibly one of the most powerful ants in this colony. They rounded one last bend, and they were there.

Before them stood a huge double door set in the wall. Two vines with some kind of glowing fruit framed the door, shedding light on the small space. In front of the door, leaning on a spear made from a twig was another ant with a pair of large white rimmed goggles.

“Well… This is it I guess.” Wilbur muttered. He cleared his throat “Hey, um. I-i’m here to have an audience with the King? If that's alright.”

The guard ant didn’t respond, continuing to stare at them with no discernible expression.

“H-hello?” Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who shrugged.

“Excuse me? Anyone home?” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of the ant's face.

He seemed to startle slightly, before slumping down a bit and letting out a loud snore.

“What the fuck” Tommy said.

Before anyone could do much of anything, one of the massive double doors creaked open and a voice came through.

“George, I swear if you fell asleep again, I'm going to rip off your antenna and use them as- oh.”

Another ant entered the room, this one also carried a twig-spear and had a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead. As soon as his gaze landed on Wilbur, his expression soured.

If looks could kill… Wilbur thought nervously

“It’s you” The new ant spat “Took your sweet time getting here Soot. Earthquake slow you down? Didja get a taste of your own medicine from your big pals out there?”

Wilbur pursed his lips, and the ant snorted. “Yeah. Thought so.” He walked forward and gave George a hard shove, sending the other ant sprawling with a startled yelp.

“Sapnap what the hell?!” He snapped, before spotting Wilbur and Tommy. “Oh hey. That guy is here.”

“Yeah he’s here, idiot.” Sapnap smacked George over the head with his spear “And we would have known a lot sooner if you hadn't fallen asleep on duty again!”

“OW! Sapnap stop! Get off me!”

Wilbur cleared his throat, drawing their attention “Sorry to interrupt, but me and my friend have been walking for a long, long time, so could we please have an audience with the King?”

Subpoena glared “Yeah. He’s waiting for you. Against my advice, he wants to see you.”

Oh. That… didn’t sound great.

Wilbur tried not to think about the implications of that statement as he approached the double doors. Tommy moved to follow, but was stopped by the guards.

“Hey!” He groused “Let me through dickheads!”

“I'm afraid the King only wants an audience with the great and powerful Wilbur Soot” Sapnap said with a smirk.

“But I want to go too! Let me in! You stupid ugly bitch ill fight you! You may have a fancy stick but just wait until I pull out my knife-gun!”

“Tommy its fine.” Wilbur interrupted “I’ll be fine mate, promise. Just wait here. I wont leave without saying goodbye.”

The last thing he saw was Tommy’s antenna drooping sadly, before the doors swung closed behind him.

If Wilbur thought the tunnel was dark before, that was nothing compared to the room he was in now. The darkness was so thick, so absolute, that it made no difference if his eyes were open or closed.

“Hello?” Wilbur called “Uh… your majesty? I was told that you wanted to see me.”

His voice echoed slightly in the huge space, but there was no reply.

Wait. What was that? Something rasped ever so slowly across the opposite wall. Something big. As it moved, the moss where it had been standing glowed a dull green.

Bio-luminescence Wilbur reasoned. Trying to distract himself from the fear creeping up his spine. Touch activated, it seems.

He swallowed dryly “L-look, just tell me what you want. I’m not here to cause trouble”

The thing moved again, its raspy scuttle reverberated through the chamber.

“Wilbur Soot, not here to cause any trouble” A thoughtful voice hummed from the dark “Now that’s a first.”

The bio-luminescent moss was lighting up more of the room. If he squinted, Wilbur could make out a... leg. Probably.

Wilbur inches slowly to the side, the moss lighting up his own path. “Okay, I get it, I've done morally questionable things in the past, but I've learned a lot from my time here. I’m sorry.”

“For now” The voice replied. The thing was moving on the other side, matching him step for step. “What's to say you aren't faking remorse to get out of here? And maybe you really are sorry. How can I be sure you wont change your mind the second you're back to normal? It's too much of a risk.”

Wilbur continued to back away nervously “Your majesty-”

“Please, call me Dream. Everyone else does.”

“Right… Dream. I can say with 100% certainty that won't happen. I've seen people die in front of me. That’s enough to change anyone's stance on something.”

“And yet I'm still not convinced.” It was moving faster now, scuttling across the floor, walls and even across the ceiling. Wilbur's head spun with the motion. “And since we’re talking in hypotheticals, riddle me this: Whoever said I was going to let you out anyway? What if I just like to play with my food?”

Dream stopped suddenly, rearing over Wilbur, and with all of the lit up moss, he got his first proper look.

This ant was huge. Twice- no, at least three times the size of Wilbur himself. He looked a bit like a centaur, with a human torso connected to a pure white and thorax and abdomen.He also wore a strange white mask with a blank eyed smiley face drawn on.

Two huge claw arms- similar to those of a praying mantis- extended from Dreams waist and slammed into the dirt either side of Wilbur, startling him enough that he fell onto his ass. The king leaned forward with that lifeless grin, and Will closed his eyes, preparing for the end.

“But…” Dream said thoughtfully “A proper experiment should account and test for all variables, shouldn't it?”

“Y-yeah generally” Wilbur stuttered

“Oh good.” Dream hoisted him roughly to his feet. “I’m glad I asked you. After all, you know all about experiments, don’t you?”

Wilbur chose not to answer, glowering at Dream as the eyes on his mask briefly glowed a dull green.

A moment later, Sapnap and George marched in, dragging a cussing and struggling Tommy behind them.

“YOU STUPID MOTHEFUCKERS!!! Let me go or ill get married in rage!! Fuck you and-! Oh. wow that is a big fella.” Tommy stopped and stared in awe at Dream

“Sapnap, give Wilbur your spear.” Dream ordered.

A flicker of doubt crossed Sapnaps face but he obediently shoved the spear into Wilbur's hands.

“I’ll make you a deal, Wilbur Soot.” Dream purred, circling him. “I will let you go to your old life. You can do whatever you like; kill us, torment us, throw us away… it doesn't matter. All you have to do is kill one ant.” He gestured to Tommy.

“What?” Wilbur whispered.

“WHAT?!” Tommy roared “fuck you! I'm not your dumb-ass pawn, I'm going to kill you! Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he writhed, attempting to bite George who did a surprisingly good job of holding him still.

“Go on.” Dream cooed “It's just one insignificant ant standing between you and freedom. You've killed hundreds. What's one more?”

Spear in hand, Wilbur took a hesitant step forward.

Tommy's gaze snapped up “Wilby?” He asked, his struggling pausing for a moment.

Their eyes met, fear clashing with sorrow. Tommy seemed to see something in Wilbur's expression and hung his head in defeat. As if he had expected Wilbur to betray him.

Oh hell no. Fuck that. Wilbur angrily tossed the spear aside.

“No. I won't.”

“What?” Dream spat

Wilbur rounded on him “No! I won't kill him! Keep me here, kill me, hunt me for sport, whatever! Just leave him out of this! Tommy has been nothing but nice to me since I met him, even though it don't deserve it!” He rubbed his arm. “God knows I don't deserve it.”

“Hmm…” Dream hummed “Are you sure, even if it costs you your life?” One of Dream's massive claw arms grazed his side, a subtle threat.

Wilbur looked over at Tommy, who had a look of hope on his face.

“Yeah.” Will smiled, “I'm sure.”

I probably could have written more, but i wont. I hope you like this fic bitty! Thanks for reading :)

Edit: Fortune, this is amazing! Like, I hadn't really thought about this encounter in a lot of detail, but I honestly like this a lot! And Dream being a big boy since he's the king ant. Just yes. Thank you so much for this.

#submission #fan work #tiny!tommy #tiny!wilbur #tiny!dream #tiny!sapnap #tiny!george #giant!dream?#maybe?#mcyt gt #thank you again!#betmyfortune

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emitheduck · 3 years

Text

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #marvel #reader insert #reader #bucky imagine #falcon and the winter solider #winter solider x y/n

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hex-obsession · 3 years

Text

Silver Lining - Two

word count- 2,259

content warning- language, angst, indirect s**cidal thought

____________________________________________

Crows cawing, your eyes open just enough to hazily make out the all too familiar color of your room.

“Early bird gets the worm, you know,” a familiar voice murmurs. Pushing off the wall to your right, your body slides diagonally over your bed, your head dangling off the side. Upside down, Cheryl is slumped against your door frame, arms and legs crossed. Brazen as usual, just the way you loved her. You held your own in most regards but Cheryl was always there when you least expected it and needed her most. You swear there were a halo atop that adorable shaggy blonde head of hers. And not one of those tacky event items either.

“Like I’d get anything any time of day with all the birds around here.” A tickling squeeze builds in your abdomen, branching up your neck to your cheeks which now had a telling pink glow.

“So you gonna talk to old lover boy yet or what?”

You jolt forward and whip around fast enough to make any killer miss a swing. Your response is unnecessary as she’s already smirking devilishly, aware of what she’s doing. She might have been your closest friend but that did not stop her from tormenting you, or anyone else that crossed her path. All in good fun and love, of course. It went without saying that you enjoyed it and she knew when it was, rarely, time to pack it up.

Raising her eyebrows, she leans back and throws her hands up. “I’m just saying, if you don’t, you might lose your chance. That’s all I’m saying,” quieter now.

You sighed. She was right. You weren’t the only one who took a liking to Leon. But, unlike you, Yun-Jin did not hide her feelings, from anyone for any reason, ever. Of course, everyone thought he was charismatic and most, undeniably handsome. That was common knowledge. You ran out of things to talk about in a place like this, and secrets were few and far between. There was no reason to hide here. This was your foreseeable future, together. There was no getting out, no changing things. Being open and sharing everything together made your day to day bearable. The connections you lost in your old lives left gaping holes, but together as one tightly knit, weird, fucked up family, you helped fill the voids. Some took longer than others to accept that fate, and there were some inevitable hiccups, but everyone came around eventually.

Anyone who wasn’t blind could see the attraction Yun-Jin had for the newest addition to your group. Placing her hands on him in conversation whenever she got the chance, laughing a little too hard at the things he said, biting her bottom lip and smiling at him when he talked. You’d even caught her pecking his cheek playfully here and there. He’d always smile and look away, as if it were a game. Leon always had a sultry attitude to him, a ladies' man no doubt. Subtly flirting with everyone was just commonplace for him. That was part of the reason you held back. Fearing you missed your chance and someone else had filled the role you longed to be in. Maybe it was your fear of rejection or abandonment, or not wanting to lose something this important in a world as cruel and bare this. You were subconsciously working hard to convince him you were only a friend. Which you were, definitely friends. Close even, given the circumstances. Trauma bonding does one hell of a number to the timeline of friendship. Still, you sensed zero difference in his behavior toward you versus the others. Which, admittedly, was quite the letdown. Nonetheless, you had nothing to lose by casually admitting your feelings for him. Keep it light and airy and there would be no reason for things to change on the chance he didn’t feel the same. After all, you surely weren’t the only one with a harmless little crush. That’s all it was. Right? So what if you constantly day-dream about him holding you so close he might consume you, kissing you with four times the passion the Notebook tried to capture, never leaving your side regardless of what the future held. His taste, his smell… what his cock would feel like ramming into your cervix. Your brain was one giant knot, constantly distracting you and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. Except tell him, but keep it simple.

By your calculations, it was November 18th. You’d been keeping track, not sure if it made things better or worse. Your third anniversary in this place was not far off. Despite being a literal nightmare, it had its perks. Your need for food was no more, as well as your other bodily needs. Sickness was a quickly forgotten annoyance of the past. You stayed in this eerily perfect state. Makeup never crusty, hair never oily and always smelling of your favorite fruit. The dirt and blood you’d acquire during trials magically disappeared upon return. You had a handful of outfits to rotate but there was no real need. Another upside, there were no severe temperatures here. Jackets, shorts, sandals, snow boots if you were Nea. You were always mostly comfortable. Even on Ormond where snow blanketed the ground, those gusts of wind should have sent chills right through you, but they didn’t. It felt like living in a dream or a, simulation. Just, where you’re hunted all day and night for the rest of your existence. At least death wasn’t permanent. Sometimes you’d wish it was, just to escape.

Several months have passed since Leon and Jill were introduced to your world. You had inside jokes and more close calls than you could both count. You were a damn good team and got along smoother than melted butter. What were you waiting for? You inhaled sharply and broke your stare out the window.

“I’m gonna do it.”

To no avail, your deep breaths failed to remedy the painful pounding in your chest, or the heat radiating from your face. Nevertheless, you marched out to the campfire to seek out Yun-Jin. As selfish as you wanted to be with Leon, she was your friend, and you held that in high regard. She was easy to spot in a crowd given her loud attire, but wasn’t around the fire. Which lead to your next realization; neither was Leon. Your throat tightened, heart still pounding. You set off a little too quickly to find her, or them. First stop was Ace’s shack. Judging based on appearances, you figured he would be one of the last people she associated with. Quite the opposite, they were dear friends. Not connected at the hip per se, like her and Claudette, but they related to one another's childhoods. Trauma bonding, can't beat it. To your dismay, the shack was empty, a seed of despair planting in your stomach. Maintaining the most convincing composure you could, you continue your search. Heading left down the line of shacks, robust laughter grows closer. You’d know that laugh anywhere. Cutting through the row, David and Felix are reclined under a tree. They were one of the few monogamous couples among you. The others being Nancy and Steve, and Adam and Zarina. You understood the allure of being romantically involved with more than one person, especially given your less-than-ideal situation, but it wasn’t for you.

“Hi y/n!” Felix shouted toward you.

Not wanting to stop and chat given your current objective, you flashed a cheeky smile and waved to them. Before they could get another word out, you dipped back behind the row of houses. Nerves getting the best of you, you parted your lips to breathe through your mouth. Every breath burned your lungs, realizing now all the times you brushed off your feelings have come back to haunt you. You should never have waited this long. At this point you would be more than willing, desperate, to share Leon. Refusing to let your anxiety get the best of you, you ball your fists and dig your nails into your palms to get a grip on yourself. There was one more place they could possibly be. A sliver of premature acceptance wedged itself into your train of thought as you trudged toward your own shack. Leon’s was adjacent to yours. Feeling foolish for not checking earlier, you round the corner to the opening. As much as you wish you could close your eyes, they were pinned open with anticipation. Looking up from your feet you were shocked to see an empty room before you. Relief and confusion replace your foreboding. Too much time had already been wasted, so you return to the campfire.

“Hey, have you seen Leon or Yun-Jin anywhere?” you, as calmly as possible, ask Élodie.

“They got pulled a little bit ago babe.” She was intently focused on Jane, her concentration not broken. “Which do you like more, up or down?” her gaze still fixated on Jane.

You have to either keep the courage you finally mustered until they get back or give yourself emotional whiplash by releasing until they do. You hesitate for a moment, but to hide your disappointment you quickly retort, “Up, definitely up. Gotta distract the killer with that beautiful face you know?”

“Like they're looking at her face and not that dumptruck ass!” Élodie howls. Jane facetiously puts her fingertips to her chin and looks upward, a façade of innocence no one here would ever buy. You can't help but giggle despite your inner turmoil.

“Well hey,” you add through chuckles, “when they're back can you please send her my way?”

“Sure thing babe,” Élodie assures, finally turning to meet your gaze.

A horrible nauseating mix of dismal, relieving, lewd thoughts of Leon swirl in your mind as you wait for Yun-Jin to step into the doorway. You knew you liked him but holy shit, where did this come from? The realization slapped you in the face. Try to blame infatuation all you want, not that you did, but it was so painfully evident now you were dumbfounded.

A soft knock jerked you out of your thoughts. “Hiya y/n, what's going on?”

Her delicate eyes effortlessly comforted you from across the room.

“I...” your eyes now glued to the floor beneath your feet, a reservoir of tears barely being held back, “I need to know how you feel about Leon.” Your nerves went haywire just uttering his name to her. An icy splash of chills surged from your head to your feet as your chest panged with dread.

“Well of course I like him,” her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

All that could escape your mouth was, “Oh.” Emptiness, despair replacing the jealous unease you felt before. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, feelings that danced around menacingly finally coming to a head.

At the sight of your distress, she rushed to sit next to you. “Honey, what’s going on?” her voice barely above a whisper.

You were ashamed for breaking down in front of her, afraid of guilting her for something that was not her fault, and now terrified Leon might follow her here, only to find you undone over him. You jerk your head up to face her and blurt out, “Jinny I think I love him,” face sopping wet with untouched tears.

She raises her eyebrows and smiles at you. “Honey I have fun toying with him all in good nature but there’s no connection there.” Your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Sure, I’ll admit he’s attractive, who wouldn’t, but I have nowhere near the same feelings for him that you evidently do.” She uses both hands to cup your face and pushes as much wetness as she can aside with her thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Not only to me but to him!” Despite being similar in age, she feels like a mother to you. Caring for a child, your own or not, will do that to you. That’s not a trait you lose over time.

“I’m so afraid,” you softly whimper, “of what he would say, what you would say.” You're picking at your cuticles, a habit you acquired during puberty as an outlet for your overwhelming feelings.

She wraps her arms around you, carefully as to not tarnish her jacket with tears, which would definitely stain the material. “I was just having a little fun, and from what I’ve gathered, he was more so allowing it than participating. You know I love you all to death but I’m not looking for anything like that, definitely not here.” She gives you a squeeze, and suddenly you can breathe again, the air around you no longer dense and difficult to swallow. “Honey, go get him.”

“Oh Jesus, let me fix myself a little first at least,” the sudden relief causing you to laugh involuntarily.

You were grateful disease and ailments didn’t exist outside of the trials, if they had you're sure you would've had an aneurysm from the stress you went through in a matter of an hour. Yun-Jin left you to your thoughts, which were now solely you and Leon together, doing anything and everything you could think of. The rest of the day you contemplated telling him, more so, how to. Thankfully you didn’t have any trials together, you were far too disorganized for that right now. “Tomorrow,” you promise yourself. Nothing like a clear head and a night’s rest to help you be your most collected, confident self.

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Silver Lining masterlist

#leon x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #dbd smut #dbd fanfic #dbd fluff

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ktheist · 3 years

Note

CEO!JK + - prompt list - + #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“you’re seriously like a man child.”

muses. ceo!jk

genre. e2l / arranged marriage

word. 2.6k

warnings. implied smut

synopsis. your family legacy is falling into ruins. your father is on his deathbed and your mother and sisters have never worked a day in their lives. their only hope is the jeons - the family of the fiancé you abandoned.

it can’t be said that you know nothing of jeon jeongguk per se. for one, he was lightly nudged in your direction by his mother at the age of 6 because he’d been hiding behind her legs since the jeon’s arrived. clad in navy blue kindergarten uniform and gripping tightly onto the brown teddy bear he uncreatively called ‘teddy’, he’d stolen a glance at you for a split second and fixed his gaze to the ground.

“____, say hi to jeongguk, you’re going to be seeing each other often from now on,” your mother nudged you from behind, her voice awfully sweet in the presence of mrs. jeon and her extremely shy son.

you’d found out at 11 years old and him 13 years old, what ‘seeing each other often’ actually entailed.

“i don’t wanna marry you!” you’d screamed in his face when you were left alone by the adults.

“i don’t wanna marry a kid with snot running down her face 24/7 either.” jeongguk’s retort, though held no substance, still made you wipe your nose on your sleeve after you’d left him and locked yourself in your room.

at the age of 13 and him 15, you’d managed to escape the clutches of your family by proposing the idea of attending a prestigious boarding school in zurich where you’d spent most of your adolescent years skipping classes and crashing parties.

by 18, you wanted to laugh at your teachers’ relieved faces when your name was called to receive your diploma, marking the end of your great era in that school.

that was when your mother called you back to south korea, claiming that she’d missed her youngest so very much. but you’d continued to make excuses to stay in zurich, applying for a scholarship and getting into a local university there.

none of your friends knew anyone from home and you’d only passingly mentioned that ‘oh, i don’t talk to my family much’.

but just as you were finishing your degree, the news of your father in his death bed latched onto your limbs and had you hopping onto the first flight home.

“what do you mean? so we’re broke?” yuqi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. even her ray bans couldn’t hide her burning gaze.

to think you willingly walked into this mess of a family.

“yuqi, let dad speak,” miyeon glares.

minnie asks after a lapse of silence, “dad, what do you mean the company’s wounding up?”

your father, a man with greying hair and cheeks losing most of their fullness, stares at nothing but the ceiling, as if seeing the angels welcoming him.

“do you remember uncle jee?” even breathing seems difficult for a man that used to work out everyday at the private gym and always invited you to join in on his healthy lifestyle, “he transferred all the company’s assets to his name and fled the country. even his family doesn’t know-”

“oh, for heaven’s sake!” your mother cries, shooting up from the sofa farthest from the bed - you should have known something was wrong when a wife wasn’t waiting by her husband’s bed and took the seat that’s on the far end from her husband, “just admit that it’s your fault! you trusted him too much even though i warned you about him! you ruined this family!”

“i should’ve brought popcorns,” soyeon says from next to you, shooting you an unapologetic - heck, even entertained smile - when you craned your neck out of mild disbelief.

this family’s a little fucked up in the head.

but they call you the black sheep that got away.

“so what now? do we have to... work?” soojin asks, a horrified look spreading across her face.

those several inches nails aren’t made for work. that’s for sure.

“the jeons...,” he coughs, “jeongguk promised to help us rebuild the family business because my father - your grandfather, supported the jeons when they were starting out.”

all of a sudden, seven pairs of eyes turn to you as if you’re the rabbit in a cage full of wolves. the air turns chilly as if someone’s turned the ac to a minus degrees celcius.

“well, don’t look at me, i haven’t talked to him for 9 years,” despite your hands held up and your shoulders almost making your neck shrink into your body, all they see is a little gold piggy bank.

“what? what about the times when we talked on the phone? you sounded so close!” your mother’s source of rage shifts to you.

“well, i mean, he’s pretty active on instagram-” you couldn’t even properly finish your sentence when a hand lands on your shoulder and you’re staring into your reflection in yuqi’s ray bans.

“start talking,” her cherry lips curl as she holds out your phone that you don’t even notice she’s swiped out of your hand bag which, “hey, how did you-” you remembered was zipped shut.

“you got something to tell me?” the jeongguk before you wears a smirk that exudes confidence and billion dollar legacy backing him up.

no longer the shy kid that avoids the gaze of those he’s not used to and keeps his head hung low. if anything, his chin is looking too tilted for your liking. though you can’t say the same for the muscles that fill out his suit and wraps around his biceps a little too snug.

he’s finally foregone the side swiped bangs and grew it enough to have it tied back into a man bun, enhancing his sharp jawline and proving once and for all that puberty isn’t just for anyone.

the hesitant hum reverberates against your chest. you can only hope that it’s not audible for persons besides yourself, “you look great.”

his head drops as he chuckles but you can still see the way his jaw clenches, cutting off every humor that’s ever present before looking straight at you through his lashes, “can’t say the same for you.”

you resist the urge to shoot up, handle of your handbag tucked in the juncture between your arm and forearm and strut out of the restaurant without looking back.

“that rotten attitude of yours hasn’t changed i see,” allowing the smile to sneak up your face, you feel your nails digging into your palms underneath the table, rooting you back to your reason for being here.

“it’s the thinking you’re better than me for me,” he states, back leaning against the chair.

“oh, baby, i am better than you,” the words escape your lips as naturally as breathing does.

“i don’t know about that, i certainly wouldn’t bring an on-and-off boyfriend of mine to a restaurant where my potential clients usually go to,” there’s a gleam in his eyes.

but before you can dissect the meaning of his words, the sight of a familiar jet black haired man trudging from toward your table with a distorted expression and waiters hurrying after him from a few steps away - catches your attention.

“___! baby, i’m sorry!” if you look closer, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes when he spots you.

“eric,” the hiss under your breath is venomous, threatening, “what are you doing here?!”

“i’m here for you, baby. i realized you’re the only one for me,” he drops to his knees, pulling out a velvet red box from his pocket. the waiters that were chasing after him now freezing, looking at each other back and forth before eric proclaims his undying love and his desires to, “i don’t want to live a life without you- marry me, baby!”

“stop,” you say curtly, body involuntarily leaned forward to make sure your voice reaches him. the sight of a smirking jeongguk adds to oil to the flames growing inside of you, “stop it. you’re acting insane, right now.”

“...i promise, i’ll never cheat on you again...” eric goes on, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders sag, “i even tattooed your name on my chest.”

the italic curls of your name is inked in black a few inches underneath his left collarbone, probably where his heart is supposed to be. but at the moment, all you can see is jeongguk’s leisure wine drinking, “oh my god, security. please, take this man away, he’s disrupting lunchtime.”

the two waiters seem to snap out of their initial trance, marching over to eric and gripping his arms with all their might before dragging him away at the manager’s instructions. it’s only then, do you notice the flash of camera from one of the tables on the farthest left side of the restaurant, its position allowing for a full view of your expression and possibly only a view of jeongguk’s back.

“you,” a whisper slips out of your mouth once you’ve assured the manager that everything was settled and you’d continue eating, “you planned this.”

“what an assertive deduction. i almost thought you would’ve missed it altogether,” he remarks, a look of pure awe spreading across his face.

“fuck you, jeon,” slamming your fist against the table, you slip out of your chair and march out of restaurant, fully aware of the eyes that follow you until you’re out of sight.

no word got out.

sns was oddly silent about the incident at the restaurant but your sisters know anyway. shuhua knocks on your door, fixing you one of her calming smiles before dropping the bomb.

“mother and elder sisters don’t know, i’m not gonna tell them but i think it’s better if you talk to jeongguk about it.” is what she suggests.

but she doesn’t know he was the one that orchestrated it, as if your life was a show and he was there for a good time. either way, to ease your sister’s heart, you make your way to jeongguk’s office.

he made you wait for a good two hours, having his assistant retell that he’s busy and can’t be disturbed at the moment. but once you’ve had enough, you barge into his room, nails digging into your palms at the lack of meeting partner and the man’s too casual appearance with his blazer draped over his recliner and his sleeves folded up till his elbow.

“i heard you were in a meeting,” you announce, making sure to glare at the secretary that stopped dead in her tracks when you managed to slip past her and through the door of jeongguk’s office.

“as you can see, i’m quite busy,” he nods, hands gesturing at the open mac in front of him.

“what are you playing at, jeon jeongguk?” a smacking sound echoes through the air as you slam your palms on his mahogany table, glaring down at him “because i swear to god, i will make sure you regret messing with me.”

but instead of the panic you hope to raise, a chuckle trickles out of his lips, “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

how the prettiest pairs of lips could smirk like that is beyond you. natural pink lips, curving deviously as his bunny lips peek innocently underneath. you don’t notice you were staring until his voice fills the silence, forcing you to tear your gaze away from those kissable lips and meet his gaze.

“you really do wanna kiss me,” there’s that gleam in his eyes - that of realization and something - something - you can’t pinpoint.

gone is the boy that used to tell you your pigtails are lopsided and proceeded to fix it for you - he made it worse but you didn’t really mind because it was the effort that counted.

but that was almost a decade ago.

“you’re seriously like a man child,” you shake your head, the initial reason of marching over to his office now shoved to the back of your mind. the last thing you want is to be in the same room with a man who seems to only be interested in making someone else’s life his own personal entertainment.

but before your fingers brush the metal handle of the double doors, another hand brushing on top of yours, feather-light fingers pleading for you not to walk out on him.

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t sound like the jeon jeongguk you’ve come to know within the short span of time - like a man stripped off his cards and games, “i went too far.”

you don’t - can’t - say anything but your body isn’t exactly listening to your mind’s instructions to move out of his grasp. out of his presence.

“i didn’t know the reporter was there - i made sure he’s keeping his mouth shut after you left,” his breath is hot against your neck and his front brushes against your back but not really touching.

“why did you do it? why did you bring eric all the way here?” you pray to thank the stars for the strength in your voice despite the feeling that’s slowly disappearing from your knees.

“i found out you guys broke up because he cheated.. i wanted to make sure he knew you were mine,” his clicks his tongue, “i didn’t know you dated such a psycho-”

your world spins for the briefest moment before you come face to face with a wide eyed jeongguk.

“first off, you don’t own me,” you announce, arms coming to cross over your chest in show of protest, “and second off,” the semblance of surprise and panic finally slips through his facade when your hands grip his collar, “kiss me.”

the last thing you remember is jeongguk nodding ever so slightly before his eyes flutter shut just miliscends before yours. you feel his arm band around your lower back, free hand digging into your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. he tastes like mint and lemon candies that your nanny used to give you and you’d give it to him, saying something like “it’s my favorite candy but i like you so i’ll let you have one”. you don’t miss the small jar he keeps on the side of his desk full of those candies.

but the matter of this and getting married in order to save your family from falling into ruins are two different matters altogether.

and somewhere down the line, you find yourselves still arguing about the littlest of things.

“um, what do you mean that red roses aren’t romantic? it’s literally the symbol of undying love,” surprisingly enough, it’s jeongguk that’s fighting for the fiercer shade of the petal.

“you think fuchsia pink doesn’t symbolize love?” you roll your eyes.

then comes the time when your mother and magically healed father asking for a grandchild to which jeongguk grins, “we’re working on baby jeon.”

(you’re married and the petals themed in your wedding are both fuchsia and garnet)

“excuse me?” you turn to him, brows arching. that alone warrants a break of cold sweat on jeongguk’s forehead as he cautiously laughs.

“i mean, w-we’re not ready yet.”

rather, you’re not ready to forego your child-less phase in exchange for late night awakenings and learning cry-languages.

but you’re not exactly being careful either, what with the two of you finding the holes in time to slip away from your family and into your childhood room only for jeongguk to slam you against the wall and bend you over the vanity.

“jeongguk did you bring a condom?” you ask.

“i’ll pull out,” is all he says and you’re barely listening as you clasp your palms agaist your mouth, trying not to let out the moans pass through your lips.

when you go back to your family, jeongguk’s arm is around your waist and you both sit together as you joke and laugh with your sisters whilst jeongguk raises a glass to joining your dad at the gym.

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts x yn #jungkook x yn #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Home: Lloyd Garmadon x Reader

-I LOVE ASKS. plz keep them coming, they make my day -i’m sorry i write slowly, I’m a perfectionist. -it’s also better to have quality over quantity, am I right? -takes place after Tournament of Elements but before Possessed

[REQUESTED BY ANON] Summary/ask: Maybe a reader with a "dark" power (like, not evil, but considered dark), and they were outcasted by it, everyone thinks they are bad and shit but they are just shy and insecure?

WARNING: MENTIONS OF VERBAL ABUSE (VERY BRIEF), BLOOD (BRIEF), INJURIES (ALSO BREIF), ETC.

Isolation. That was all you had ever known for the better half of your life. Most details were things you preferred to keep hidden away, locked up for good in that deep mind of yours.

You never had a whole family, but that was fine by you. Why should that matter when you had a father who loved and cared for you? Growing up, he always told you this: ‘Ninjago is so much more than our tiny home, my dear. Why should we worry about what we don’t have when there’s so much to discover?’

Even now, you held onto his words with your life. Even now when you forgot what his face looked like. Even now when you couldn’t remember his voice, or how warm his hugs were. Everything eventually faded, but not the emotions he made you feel.

Love, warmth, generosity.

Those were the only pieces of baggage you carried. Although heavy, they kept you from the evil strings of bitterness. You kept your chin up, high in the air so you could look to the sky. It was the limit after all, the portion of which you had to reach and reach until you couldn’t anymore. The only problem was getting there.

The alley was rather quiet today, a far cry from the usual bustling citizens looking for a shortcut or a food stand. You loved days like this, where no one would care to stare at you and whisper your name like it were a ball in a game. With your hood up, no one could see your face, and no one could cast you aside like the loner you were.

“What are you doing here?”

You wish you hadn’t heard his voice. As subtle as he tried to be, his snarky tone caused passing stragglers to glance at you. A sigh escapes your lips. What was he doing here? Didn’t he have anything better to do than follow you around and nag? You were cast aside as it was by your mother, forgotten by your so-called friends, and left behind by your ascended father.

He told you to stay away from that speedy idiot, the one your mother took away from you. The one who took after her with the same eyes, nose, and mouth. They had the same grin, too, the one where it looked like they thought they were better than you.

“If it isn’t Griffin Turner,” you grumble out. “What a pleasure.”

His stare isn’t friendly. You know under those red sunglasses that he’s glaring at you. He’s probably thinking about how much of a monster you are too, just like every other Elemental Master you ever faced in your life.

Griffin runs a hand over his oh-so-perfectly cut hairdo. “Oh don’t be a prick.” he spits out. “Have some respect for your older brother.” That grin doesn’t slide off his face no matter how dark your expression gets. He’s always been oblivious. First to your powers, then to your father’s death, and finally, to how terribly he’s been treating you.

It doesn’t matter that he’s your older brother. Bullying does not discriminate, and neither do you, blood ties or not. “Just leave me alone, I’m not in the mood Griffin.” He raises a brow. “Not in the mood? Since when did someone like you have feelings? You’re cold-hearted, just like your dad.”

You frown. “’Your dad’?” you echo. “What, so we’re only related when you choose?” Griffin shrugs absentmindedly. You know he’s trying to provoke you, get a reaction, but you just can’t help it. He was patronising you and your father.

“I’m just glad I lived with mum instead of dad.” he adds. “At least I don’t have to run after the garbage truck with a shopping list.” He snickers to himself and you go rigid. “Take that back.”

“What? Your last braincell?”

“Well--you--you’re a...” You pause. “At least I had someone who loved me and actually payed attention to me! Sure, I inherited dad’s elemental powers, but he taught me something you’ll never get: kindness. You think I don’t know? Look again you pathetic waste of space!” That wasn’t supposed to hit hard and you both knew it. Griffin could have said a million other insults that burned like the sun itself, yet somehow, with your puny words, you hit a nerve. A nerve that wasn’t supposed to be punched in the first place.

Griffin’s grin finally slides off his face. He stuffs a hand in his pocket and uses the other to adjust his bright sunglasses. He doesn’t say anything, but you can practically feel the air thicken between the empty distance. Griffin didn’t have lo self-esteem, but sometimes, his mum called him a waste of space. When you walked by the luxurious apartment, on days the kitchen window was left wide open, you heard what she’d say to Griffin--what she did to him.

Suddenly, you’re taken back to the age of six, when your parents were together and Griffin was more than your only brother. You were best friends. You did everything together. But then your father passed down his elemental powers to you, and it was then that everything changed.

Your father taught you that your powers were a gift passed down all the way from the days the First Spinjitzu Master lived among the people of Ninjago. It was a gift used to protect him when he was in need, a gift that possessed great power and majesty. Your elemental abilities had a double edge to it. Although beautiful, it possessed a great danger.

One slip-up was all it took. One mistake you never meant.

That day, you were practicing control and discipline over your powers. You never meant for it to happen, and if you could go back, you would a million times over. That day, all the control, all the mastery you had over your abilities disappeared in an instant. You swore it was only for a second, but it could have lasted a millennia.

Your element was more than a power. It was a living part of you with its own consciousness you couldn’t quite understand. When you slept, you saw him, the intangible person you never cared to learn the name of. He always sat in a plain of pure darkness, where you couldn’t touch or see him clearly.

You knew he never meant to frighten you, but that day, you only saw a monster. Perhaps it was you, perhaps it was him. You never knew because the moment you lost control, your world went black. From then on, your parents split. Your mother took Griffin away from you, and as time grew, so did the distance between you.

You wish you could change things starting from that day till now. Those forsaken words shouldn’t have left either of your mouths, but the damage had already been done. It cut too deep that not even magic could mend the wounds.

“Griffin I--”

“So that’s how it is.” A bitter laugh escapes his lips and you flinch like you’ve been struck. Griffin walks toward you at a painfully slow pace. The alleyway isn’t part of the city anymore. It’s a battlefield of honour, of pride, of two siblings who have been torn apart. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he pulls something out of his pocket. “Here.”

The wad of cash presented to you between his fingers looks more like an insult than a gift. Was he trying to rub in your face how rich his mum was compared to your dead dad? Surely this wasn’t an olive branch to apologise for being a jerk for the past eleven years.

He stares at your incredulous expression and yanks your wrist forward, slapping the bills into your hand and forcing it into your sweater pocket. “Look, I’m not patronising you, okay? Just...go to your friend or whatever and don’t spend that on drugs. Your financial situation sucks, I get it.”

His tone is rather aggressive, but you know that speech pattern. The one where it’s soft and bashful because he’s embarrassed to be talking out loud like that--like an older brother. You run your fingers over the cash in your pocket and stare at Griffin. He looks the other way and begins marching past you, making sure to bump shoulders.

“Griffin, wait.” You make a grab for his arm but he’s already gone at the speed of light. “Thanks,” you whisper to yourself. “I guess.” You aren’t sure how long you stay in the dead alleyway, frozen in your own thoughts. But as soon as you’re ready to make your way to the park, the alleyway fades, the honking of the cars disappear, and you’re completely alone in a surge of darkness.

“That has got to be a least three hundred.”

You heave out a long sigh as the darkness parts. Robes drag across the floor like liquid gold, sparkling and shimmering like the sun. “Such a coward, your brother. He shouldn’t have run away like that.” The man is a living contradiction, much like you. Although he lived in a world of darkness, that never stopped light from blooming in his cold heart. He cared for you as much as he cared for your father and those before him.

The man adjusted the collar of his red robes, yanking the thick fabric into all the right shapes and places. His pale face was like a sheet of paper, but the calm smile made up for that and tinted his cheeks rose. “Here,” he said, waving his arm. The wad of cash drifted out of your pocket, mixing with the mist until it was all but a speck of light. It drifted into one of the man’s pockets, which he patted.

“Honestly,” he says, “could you be more inconspicuous? Someone down the street looked like he wanted to mug you.” You frown and the man huffs. “When you need the money, come back. I’ll keep it here.”

“Thank you.”

“Raijin.” he says. “Call me Raijin.”

The mist began swirling like a whirlpool, twisting and turning until your hood whacked you in the face. The alleyway materialised as soon as your feet hit the pavement. The honking of cars sliced through the air, bombarding your ears in the cityscape sounds. “First Spinjitzu Master...” you grumble, rubbing your ears.

“LOOK OUT!”

You whip around in bewilderment and flatten yourself against the brick wall. A group of four or five fruit-coloured boys fly from the fire escape above. If you hadn’t reacted quickly enough, then you’d be as much of a pancake as the blue one (he was under all of them).

“I’m--gonna--die! Get off me Cole!”

“I...I can’t when Zane’s heavier than a rock!”

“Kai, move your stupid leg!”

“Everyone stop arguing! Lloyd is unconscious!”

The last bit sent the group in a rush of shouting, scrambling, and shoving. You wanted to do something to help, but these boys were the ninja, students of Sensei Wu and partly, Garmadon. In the world of elemental masters, they were known as the OG, the ones who defeated the Great Devourer, Garmadon, and so many more.

The last time you saw them (together, that was) had to be half a year ago on Chen’s forsaken island. You almost died, but Lloyd saved you. He and his friends risked their lives to help everyone off that island. If thy hadn’t been there...

You glance at Lloyd. He lay on the pavement, faintly breathing and coughing as Zane wrapped gauze around his wrist. The blood smeared on his face sent your heart tumbling. Just what had they done this time?

“Hey!” you exclaim. The boys remove their hoods and turn to you. Kai knits his brows together. “Aren’t you--?”

“Do you want help or no?” you gruffly retort. Zane’s bright eyes don’t leave your cold expression as you look between all the ninja. Cole and Jay look uneasy about the offer, but to even the blind, it was clear they had no choice.

“Yes.” Zane says. “We would be grateful for your assistance, (Y/n).” You nod and motion for them to follow you out of the alleyway. Kai carefully lifts Lloyd off the ground and onto his back. “Thank you for your generous offer.”

“Don’t thank me until he’s well.” you quietly reply. As scary as it was inviting people to your tiny apartment, this was the ninja. You owed them this much for being Ninjago’s protectors for so long. “We’re taking the back route because I don’t want to attract unwanted attention. It’s clear you had a run-in, let’s not repeat that.”

Halfway down one of the quieter streets, you heard Jay whisper this, “I heard she’s evil. Are you sure we should trust her?”

You want to be offended, but getting upset would only make everything worse. You re-called your conversation with Griffin, and that look on his face when you called him a waste of space.

He deserved the insult, you told yourself. Why should you feel guilty?

You spot a beat-up door worn with age. The blue paint peeled off the wood, scattering along the doorstep in little piles. As much as you wanted to renovate, you couldn’t afford it. You had to save up for college and rent.

You dig your hand inside your trousers’ pocket and produce a key. The scratches rub against your calloused hands as you stick it in the keyhole and yank open the door. “Bring him in.” No one says a word as you watch the ninja file into your home one by one. Like good guests, they remove their shoes and leave them in a little corner of the hall.

You close the door behind you and lock it, tossing the key in its respective place. “Set him down on the couch. I’ll get a med kit.” When you come back with the med kit and freshly washed hands, you weave past Cole and sit on the floor by Kai’s side. “He’ll be alright.” you calmly state.

Kai sharply meets your gaze. “His wrist is broken.”

“Yes, but bones can be mended. He will be alright.” You ignore the stares, they were background noise, and place your hands around the wound. “Raijin,” you whisper, “I need assistance.”

The last time you had to fix a broken wrist had to be about three months ago. It was a rather draining action, but for Lloyd, you would do anything. He needed you.

Suddenly, your body goes completely rigid. Your hands are cold and you shut your eyes, allowing the icy sensations to wash over your being. A breeze passes over your face and settles around your hands. You imagine Lloyd’s bones mending back into place, connecting painlessly like a puzzle piece would.

“What’s she doing?” you hear Jay whisper.

“I think she’s concentrating.” Cole answers. “Kind of...creepy if I do say so myself.”

You feel the bones clicking together, and once you are sure Lloyd is alright, you open your eyes and heave out a long sigh. “He...he will be...” You can’t finish that sentence. The world spins with dots and mingles in a flurry of colours and blurs. Someone was saying something, but you can’t make out what’s wrong with you.

The world fades to black.

“Here again?”

You frown uncomfortably as Raijin struts out from behind a curtain of shadow. It’s hard to disregard him, so you avert your gaze to the side. “I don’t choose when I come here, you know that.” He chuckles and it’s a low rumble. “You like him.”

“Who?”

“Lloyd. It’s not everyday you let people into your home. When you saw Griffin walk by with a broken leg, you didn’t heal him.” You sigh loudly. “Well, that’s different Raijin.”

“Is it?” There’s a suggestive tone to his voice you don’t like, as if he’s looking inside your head and hearing all your thoughts bouncing around. Raijin probably did hear some of it. He was, after all, a part of you, both soul and body. Silence falls over your shoulders and it sits there like an old pillow: uncomfortable, flat, and irritating.

The silence stretched and you felt small in the presence of Raijin. He had a way with his height and energy that somehow made him appear all the more regal. You can’t meet his eyes as you blurt out the dumbest question you could muster. “Will Lloyd be okay?”

The answer is obvious, but Raijin doesn’t comment on it. He folds his hands together and softly nods, as if he’s afraid of making you shrink further into yourself. “Thanks to your efforts his wrist is healed. Why don’t you see for yourself?” You perk up. “What--?”

The darkness curls under your shoes, stretching like gum and absorbing you in nothing. It’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s filling you with adrenaline.

You jolt upright.

“I see you and Raijin had quite the conversation.” a crinkly voice states. You rub your pounding head, accepting the steaming cup of tea from Sensei Wu’s hands. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the monastery, much less your old room. Wait, Wu? Your old room from when you were eleven? “Sensei?” He smiles kindly, giving your shoulder a good pat. “If you were wondering, Lloyd has been healed. Actually, he wishes to see you.”

“Me?” you inquire. “Really?” Wu chuckles to himself good-naturedly. He turns his back to you and slides open the door, revealing a red-faced Lloyd. He goes stiff like a board. “Uh--I--sorry--just passing--”

Wu gently guides Lloyd into the room, paying no mind to the stuttering mess his nephew had become. It’s an odd sight to see Lloyd, the Green Ninja, tripping over his own feet, adjusting his sleeves, and picking at loose threads instead of meeting your eyes like he did that day.

Lloyd had been like a gust of wind. He came to your rescue strong and fast, scooping your bloodied body in his arms with a gentle hold. When the time came and you all had to leave the island, you were still too weak to use your elemental powers, so Lloyd let you ride with him. Those crazy few weeks on Chen’s island had been traumatising.

The fact that you weren’t trusted by anyone due to your powers made it worse, until you met Lloyd and his father.

Wu quietly exists the room, gently closing the door behind. You silently thank him for his consideration. “It’s been a while.” you quietly say. Lloyd shuffles toward you with a bright smile, cheeks still tinted red. “I used to see you around Ninjago City a lot, but after a while, it was...I don’t know, like you disappeared.”

It’s your turn to avert your gaze. The truth was, you weren’t sure Lloyd still wanted to be your friend after the Tournament. You saw him less and less with each passing day, only ever giving a small wave here and there whenever he went to Borg Tower. After half a month, Griffin caught you talking with Lloyd. He bullied you about it and told you Lloyd was only acting like your friend.

Stupidly enough, you believed him. Your insecurities about being judged wore down your courage like a bath bomb in water. You couldn’t speak with Lloyd any longer, or give a simple wave that made him smile like the sun. One day, you decided to avoid him completely by taking a different route home. You never saw him again. Not until today.

“I-I’m sorry Lloyd.” you murmur. He blinks, knitting his brows together in confusion. “What do you mean you’re sorry? You didn’t do anything--”

“Yes I d-did.” You curse your wobbly voice. “I started a-avoiding you because I was scared we weren’t...you know...anymore. And a lot happened...and then...” Your eyes are burning with tears you know are filled with ages of stress and worry and anger.

You wanted to blame Griffin for making fun of you that day. You wanted to blame yourself for being so stupid. You wanted to blame Raijin for not talking to you when you needed him most. But you couldn’t. How would any of them know this would happen? That you’d eventually cut Lloyd off altogether until you were in isolation in that tiny apartment by yourself? How could you have known?

The side of your bed dips and gentle arms bring you in tight. It’s warm and reminds you of meadows with flowers, butterflies, and better days. When was the last time you actually hugged someone? Much less allowed them this close in your proximity? You didn’t have friends at school, so you always settled for books as your comfort. Books could not hug like people.

“I should be thanking you.” Lloyd said. “You healed me even though it made you pass out.” You sniffle, hesitantly wrapping your arms around Lloyd’s middle. As soon as you allow your shoulders to relax, warmth spreads through your chest. You recognised the sensation as a mix of comfort and relief.

To know someone else was here with you who cared and would sit with you as you cried your eyes out was new--but it felt good. When your dad died, you promised to never shed another tear. You couldn’t say you were good a keeping promises.

“If you want to tell me more, it’s okay.” Lloyd softly said. You rested your head on his shoulder, savouring the way he smelled like life itself. If you were to describe it, you’d call it grassy, flowery, and fruity all rolled into one.

“Well... You remember my brother Griffin?” you slowly begin. “He isn’t who you think he is. He always tells me things like I’m a monster because of my elemental powers, or that...”

You aren’t sure how long you talk for, but Lloyd’s there, listening to every word and drinking it in like gold. Sometimes he pitched in, other times he sat still in a silent horror you couldn’t fully comprehend. It never occurred to you just how broken your family relationships had been when it was your norm.

When your tears finally dried and you could breathe again, Lloyd took your hands and motioned for you to follow him out of the room. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” You smiled at him, enjoying the company his hand provided.

Wu rounded around the corner and said, “Would you like to stay forever?”

There was no question in that. You still had your old room and memories of when you used to call the monastery home. Why wouldn’t you want to make new ones? “Yes.” you reply. “I’d love that--if it’s fine with you.” Lloyd glanced at Wu, who simply nodded in confirmation.

Lloyd turns to you with a bright grin that you can only shyly match in response.

TIP JAR

Please don’t forget to reblog!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd x reader #ninjago x reader #x reader #reader insert #xreader #lego #ninjago wu #Sensei Wu

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infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

Long Forgotten

I am choosing to not use warnings. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with themes of infidelity, angst, swearing and sexual innuendos.

Summary: Your Steve isn’t yours anymore and you’re beginning to understand why.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairings: Steve x reader and a surprise appearance ;)

Disclaimer: this is set right after Endgame

A/N: this story was inspired by @nsfwsebbie’s fic please don’t take him (even though you can). it was so damn amazing. i thought of how the situation would go under different circumstances, and added a more strong willed reader into the mix :)

i tried to proofread but im sort of posting in a rush so all mistakes are my own!

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Your head was nestled in the crook of Steve’s neck and his arms were cradling your tired form. Dried tears left your face feeling dry and your up do from the funeral was now tousled. Steve let out a heavy sigh and held you a little tighter.

You could fall asleep if it weren’t for the looming stress of returning the stones so you decided to bide your time by focusing on the super soldier’s unnaturally slow heartbeat.

“We should go, sweetheart. They’re waiting for me.” his voice broke the placid silence that had enveloped the room.

You silently got off the bed and Steve’s hand nudged yours, stopping you from reaching the door.

He slowly pulled you towards him and you met him halfway, face-to-face.

“I know things aren’t great right now. But we’ll get through this,” he spoke lowly as his large hands cupped your face. They felt rough against your supple skin, but his touch was as tender as ever.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. "I’ll come with you,” you offered.

“No,” he affirmed. His tone was firm yet a touch of softness was reserved in there somewhere, just for you.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll love you no matter what,” he said as he pulled your head into his chest and engulfed your body into his.

You reached the new, mini version of the previously destroyed time travel contraption Tony made. Sam, Bucky and Professor Hulk were engaging in light conversation that clearly, none of them were interested in. You look up at Steve, who was as tense as ever, clutching your hand like a vice. He let go and glanced back at you before joining Sam.

You knew deep down that Steve would never be the same anymore. Hell, after the Battle of Wakanda, Steve almost ended the relationship because the Avengers lost.

But the Avengers won this time, and things should feel different. So why did it feel like he was leaving forever?

You recalled the very short conversation you had with him about Tony’s snap.

“I should have snapped,” he sobbed.

“You’ve always been selfless your whole life. This was Tony’s time to be selfless, and you don’t get to take that away from him.” You hugged him and cried with him.

There was nothing else to be said.

How much you wished no one had to die.

He stood on the platform and nodded at Bruce before locking eyes with you.

Apologetic. He looked apologetic.

At the time, you thought he just looked sad. You assumed it was residual sadness from the funeral but looking back, you realized he looked apologetic for what he was about to do.

Rebuilding your relationship wasn’t easy. Tony and Nat’s death and the trauma of the battle were overshadowing both of your feelings. You salvaged what you could and life returned to a “normal” that never existed.

Being an Avenger means your living costs are covered by Tony, basically compensating for the missions. Only there weren’t any missions anymore. You were grateful but it meant that you had a lot of time on your hands.

You took up a job as a waitress and Steve continued running sessions at the VA with Sam. It was humbling to be serving people at a diner after fighting alongside some of Earth’s mightiest heroes. But you needed it. And slowly but steadily, happiness crept its way into the tower.

You didn’t see Steve around anymore though. You weren’t sure if you were even together anymore, aside from the forehead kisses and lingering glances.

You and Bucky set the table while you heard Sam and Steve banter over who gets to choose the movie today. Bucky chuckled and called them to eat.

There was relentless teasing, jokes being tossed around and big smiles everywhere.

“The nurse had poked him 2 times at this point and there was no blood coming out of him.” Sam laughed.

“So she asks me if we can do the other arm.” Bucky snorted through breaths of amusement.

“This guy pulls up his sleeve and the girl faints.” Sam howled as everyone doubled over in laughter.

You wiped a tear from your eye and you look over at Steve who was laughing as well. It had been a long time since you’ve seen him so happy.

Sure, he’d been distant. He hadn’t touched you since he came back. It had been 2 months though, and you wondered if you should try again tonight. You put a hand over Steve’s and he snapped his head to you. He gave you a small smile before slipping his hand out from under yours and picking up a napkin.

He needed the napkin, you told yourself.

You went up to change into something that he might find more appealing. You were torn between the red lace set or the black corset. You settled for the classic red lace and tied on a robe before heading downstairs to tease him a little.

“You’re going to tell her before you go right?” You heard Sam’s voice and broke your stride to the kitchen.

“She won’t be happy.” You swore it was Steve’s voice but it was a little too quiet to be sure. You silently padded toward the kitchen, standing right outside the entrance to hear better.

“Of course she won’t be happy. You went back to be with a girl from 70 years ago and spent 4 months with her. You sort of cheated on her Steve.” Bucky’s voice quipped at Steve.

You couldn’t be hearing right. Steve went back and got together with Peggy?

“It’s not sort of cheating, he almost got married to her,” Sam remarked in rebuttal.

He almost got married to her.

There was so much information to process. Your shoulder sagged with the weight of the news and you cupped your mouth before anyone could hear your sob.

“But I came back.” Steve countered.

“Do you love her?” Bucky lowered his voice and inquired.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Your chest heaved and eyes burned. You wanted to gasp for air but you knew if you breathed, you would let out the anguish building in your stomach.

Your back hit the wall and you slid down, not caring if he hears anymore.

In moments, Steve, Bucky and Sam appear beside you with startled faces.

You didn’t look at them as you got up and paced to your room. You thought you heard Steve’s voice calling after you but your thoughts pounded and clawed at the insides of your head. You couldn’t be sure and you weren’t going to turn back now.

He didn’t run after you. You had predicted that he didn’t want to deal with your hysterical crying which surely could be heard past your room walls. When you considered it, this new Steve was actually quite predictable; you knew he wouldn’t bother bringing it up to you until you brought it up yourself. Because he was a coward like that, you decided. All of his actions spoke for themself and the one true motive behind his cheating is cowardice. You don’t know if you would have been okay with him going back to Peggy, but if he talked about it, things not have ended the way they did.

After 2 days of not leaving your room, you knew that there was a better way to handle this. It wasn’t you who should be embarrassed; instead of sulking, you marched to his room with newfound determination.

You threw open his door that he didn’t even bother locking. Steve was mid-speech with someone on the phone, seemingly a conversation that wasn’t going his way. He seemed tense, his muscles protruding from the tight white t-shirt pulled over him.

Your jaw ticked as you shifted your weight onto one foot and rested on the doorframe, waiting for him to end the call.

“I’m sorry to cut this short. We have a lot to talk about but it’ll have to happen in-person.” he concluded the phone call and sat on the bed with his head in his arms.

“Seems like you planned it all.” you commented, trying to sound like you didn’t care. In reality, the wound was still very fresh. Even though a part of you had known that the relationship was over for some time now, you were only coming to terms with it now.

“I wanted to tell you before I left, but you were just so upset and I couldn’t …” he trailed off.

“All of a sudden you care about me? And now this is somehow my fault that you were too chicken to tell me,” you retorted, unimpressed with his answer.

“I have always cared about you and always will.” He got up and walked towards you. He cupped your face but you pushed his hand off, glaring up at him.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I admit I could’ve handled everything lot better but Y/N. When you told me Tony’s snap was his moment of selflessness, I realized that all I’ve ever done is be selfless. And I don’t regret any of it. But it was time I chose to do something for myself. Then I remembered Peggy and the life I left behind and I just knew this world would be okay without me so I chose to be selfish. I chose to be selfish, Y/n, and I don’t regret that either.”

You were crying now, and Steve reached to wipe it off, but you smacked his hand.

“You used to choose me. You woke up everyday and chose us. The day you decided you didn’t want this anymore, you decided you would just go ‘fuck all’ and cheat on me? You couldn’t have ended it like a normal person?” you questioned through your tears. Your vision was foggy but you kept wiping your eyes, trying not let him see your tears.

He sighed and let a few moments stretch on before he answered.

“We both know that this relationship was over a long time ago Y/N.”

You noted his use of your name and not the usual pet name ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’. It saddened you even more to think that he doesn’t associate those words with you anymore.

“You’re a fucking bastard Rogers. You are the biggest coward I have ever met in my life. You may be the Captain America, but you are the biggest wimp in real life.” You could tell he was fuming because of your comment but you continued your spiel.

“I tried everything to make this work. The moment that the thought of cheating crossed your mind, you should have broken my heart. Because all you did now was rip it out and stomp on it before spitting on the what’s left-”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here accusing me of not trying to make this work. You know what Y/N? I fucking left Peggy because I thought about you and thought I could make this work. And then I came back and remembered all the reasons why this wouldn’t work and now I regret it. I wish I could go back to Peggy.”

“Go fuck yourself Rogers,” you muttered and turned to leave. “Actually, go fuck Peggy’s skeleton Steve. I curse you with every cell in my body. I hope you never get to see her again. I know you’re trying to go back,” you added before wiping you final tear, once and for all. There was no way you were going to shed another tear on this asshole.

Except, it wasn’t that simple. You did cry over it more, but if there’s anything you did right, it was making sure he never saw your tears.

You also found that post-break up glow up’s were a real thing. The lack of missions means you didn’t need to see Steve unless you chose to be in the same space as him. So you chose to make new friends and bring new light into your life. There was no dread clouding your judgment because for once, there was no impending threat on the future of Earth.

You cut your hair, you changed up your wardrobe and got as fit as you’ve ever been. Your friends made frequent stops at the Tower which eventually turned into dragging you into their bar hopping.

On the other hand, Steve was doing everything he could to go back to Peggy, just like you had predicted. You manifested his downfall. Hank Pym refused to let his work fall into the hands of the Avengers and Steve was having a very hard time convincing him otherwise. The final nail in the coffin was when Hank decided that Pym Particles should not be produced anymore. As long as the world didn’t understand the entirety of the quantum realm, no one should have access to something that could mess with it. No arguments could ensue because there was nothing anyone could say to change Hank’s mind.

As much as Bucky and Sam wanted him to go back, they knew he deserved it for everything you were put through. When Steve found that his friends weren’t on the same page as him, he spiraled deeper into regret and depression. There wasn’t much to be done in terms of world-saving, which is what he was made for. The person he thought was the love of his life is gone now. When the dust settled, he realized that you were the only thing that kept him going for so long. But now he lost you too, and there was nothing he could do get you back.

While you were out living your new life, Steve was trying to find a life for himself. He would see you around the compound and wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of your love. What he would do to feel that again, he couldn’t explain to anyone.

Your escapades were at an all-time high. You knew that single life is the life. Just when you finally concluded that all men were trash, Ransom came crashing into your life. Although he only reinforced this belief, this man wasn’t just any trash. He was your trash.

He was the mutual of your friends and you seemed to never be able to escape him. Moreover, your friends decided that you wouldn’t escape him.

The teasing and playful banter between you two turned into something more serious about a year after your break-up. Ransom was everything Steve wasn’t.

Steve was a gentleman. Chivalrous. Gentle.

Then you reminded yourself that he had proven to you that he wasn’t any of things anymore. Ransom was the exact opposite, but he wore it on his sleeve. After all the lies and cowardice, Ransom’s blunt and bold attitude was exactly what you needed.

There were moments you found yourself comparing the nature of the two relationships. With Steve, a lot of it was gentle and soft with some roughness around the edges. Life alongside Ransom was nothing short of callous, but that’s why soft, vulnerable moments felt even more extraordinary and special.

If you made a judgement based off first impressions, someone like Ransom seems to be more likely to cheat than someone like Steve Rogers. Upon deeper analyzation though, Ransom doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. He doesn’t claim things easily, but when he does, he would go to any length to make sure what’s his, will stay his. Soon after you realized this, you began abandoning thoughts of comparing the two relationships.

There was a party at the Tower for Sam’s birthday. It was the first time in a long time that you were going to be around Steve for longer than 10 minutes. Doubt began seeping through your determination; how well would you fare under the pressure of pretending to be okay around him?

“Do we have to match, sugar?” Ransom whined from your bathroom.

“Why would you even go to an event as a couple if you aren’t matching?” you hollered back.

You heard Ransom grumble as the bathroom door swung open. The emerald green dress shirt with small gold polka dots complemented his eyes so perfectly. Ransom was about to complain again before seeing the look of awe on your face. He decided right then that he could suck it up for the night.

You were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with sheer black net covering your shoulders, your sleeves reaching your elbows. The material was different, but the print was the exact same as Ransom’s. He couldn’t help but wonder why you put so much effort into such little things. He made a mental note to do something like this for you another time before wrapping his arms around your frame, burying his face into your face.

“Ran! My hair!” you squealed as you tried to push him off.

“Usually it’s me that takes this long to get ready. You trying to impress the Captain?” Ransom winked and sat on your bed.

“Oh fuck off.” you rolled your eyes and added the big bow to your half up hair-do.

“You look so innocent baby. How angelic would you look with my cum dripping out of your mouth?” he smirked as you dropped your mouth, looking at him through the mirror.

“My god Ran, this is not the time.” You shook your head and pulled him with you, finally making your way to the party downstairs.

You were breaking out into cold sweat for some reason. Part of you really wanted to show Steve how happy you were now, but you felt that it meant you weren’t truly over him. Were you making a mistake?

Right before you opened the door the common room where the party was ongoing, Ransom stopped you and looked right into your eyes.

“You know, as much as I’d like to make your ex jealous, if you don’t want this, I could think of a lot of other ways to spend the night,” he winked and you blushed. This is exactly why you liked him so much. There was no pressure to be anything but yourself around him. Even if you told him you wanted to go back to your room, there would be no judgement on his behalf. He wouldn’t ever bring it up as a joke either, because he just knew what he could and couldn’t joke about.

“Let’s do this, bubbles” you giggled. He groaned at the nickname and pulled you into his side with one arm, opening the door with the other.

One of Ransom’s many talents was making an entrance and this event was no exception. As you walked through the entrance, Ransom kept his head high and pulled you along with him. His confidence began rubbing off you and within a few steps, you stopped slouching. Straightening you back and tossing your hair behind your back, you bathed in the glory of the looks you and Ransom were getting. He took you straight to the bar, smiled at you and ordered drinks.

“You know, your ex was fuming in the corner,” he remarked as he sipped on his drink.

“No!” you laughed incredulously, unable to imagine Steve begin angry over Ransom’s presence.

“It’s true, look for yourself,” he calmly retorted. His eyes flicked to a corner of the room and you followed his gaze there. Steve looked away upon seeing you look at him but it was clear that he was flustered. Bucky stood beside him, entertaining a gaggle of girls, but Steve’s attention was clearly elsewhere.

“He’s actually pretty hot in person, it’s making me jealous” Ransom nonchalantly mentioned.

You threw your head back and laughed. Your doubts of whether this was a good idea were dissipating very quickly.

Ransom chuckled and then looked at you intently. You looked back at him, the high of the laugh wearing off because of his intense stare.

“I think I’m in love with you.” you blurted.

“You know, I’m glad you said it because I did not want to say it first.” he snickered and you playfully punched him.

“Ow! I’m just kidding, don’t go all Avengers-mode on me!” he fussed.

You pulled him into a tight hug. He peeled your head away from his chest to cup your face and give you a light kiss before whispering ‘I love you too.’ You started to tear up, thinking of all the pain you had to go through to get this moment of tranquility with your favourite person in the whole, wide world.

He cooed and kissed your forehead.

“I always got you.” he assured and pulled your head back into his chest. You smiled and broke away from the hug, sitting back on the bar stool.

“I think you transferred your lipstick because you have a dark red lip mark on your forehead.”

You groaned and frantically wiped your forehead.

“Hey,” he caught your wrist. “Why don’t we go back up and fix that?” His eyes glinted in the dim lights and you giggled like a schoolgirl as he pushed through the crowd.

In that moment, and every moment after it, Steve was long forgotten.

Fill out the form in my bio or shoot me a message if you want to join my tag list!

I believe the page dividers are by @firefly-graphics (I forget which ones were my own and which ones were downloaded, but regardless, they have amazing work that I definitely rec writers to check out!)

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#steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #endgame #endgame!steve #steve rogers #captain america #fic #fic rec #mcu #marvel

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randomingoftherandomness · 3 years

Note

Your writing is so much fun! If you feel like it, maybe some more Emperor/Empress? maybe some people want to put pressure on Emperor Zhou but forget that Empress Wen isn't a pampered noble who has never held a weapon in his life?

Hahaha... Thanks! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed reading my works thus far (❁´ω`❁)

I hope you’ll like this one too!

Note: Prince Xu here refers to Zishu (just in case anyone is confused)

There are some parts that will only make sense if you have read this chapter (AO3 only). Takes place after this chapter.

Each Minister, with temples streaked with greys and whites, eyes shrew and calculating, all looked at each other in turn; each men had grown up in the comfortable bosom of the capital, none had ever tasted a grain of sand or a moment of hardship in their route to power. All of them were born of the aristocracy so entrenched and deeply rooted in all sectors of society that they have never had a day of worry about their place or their families’ paths in life. It would be simpler to say that their forebears laid the foundation for this nation and their children will reap the fruits of it for generations to come if they are careful.

And this would have been the case, had it not been for the august personage currently occupying the golden seat.

Even before Prince Xu had reached his majority, he had been a pillar of strength to the South and by the time he was crowned a Prince of the First Rank, his military exploits could fill halls with their glory and there was no doubting that he will be a repelling force by mere presence alone. If he had any designs on the throne, it would have been easy for him to build his own faction to stake a claim for it.

But he had not done such a thing. If anything, he made sure to throw his support fully and utterly behind the Crown Prince and to only return to the capital for special occasions that merited his being there. When the old Emperor had died, that had been the longest period of time he had stayed in the capital. Going as far as to have a battalion of his men stationed within marching distance of the city gates as a deterrent to any dissent when the Crown Prince took the throne.

It’s a pity that Emperor’s reign was too short for him to have made a proper mark on the passage of time.

By the time Prince Xu had slicked the flagstones red with the blood of those traitorous scum in revenge for the death of his brother, there was no place for him to go but ascend into the highest position of prestige in the land.

Every single Minister can still remember the way Prince Xu looked as he had led his men right up to the throne room; stalking forth in his armour at the head of a hundred men, face streaked with glory and gore, carrying the sunlight on him as he climbs the last steps up to the throne room. If he had been mistaken as some primordial war god at that moment then, no one would have been surprised.

And then there was the Empress.

The Empress who had borne the Emperor a son and has just birthed another, thus securing the Dragon lineage. The Empress who was still the only official wife of the Emperor, and if the spies in the Inner Palace are to be believed, the only one the Emperor would even deign to look at and listen to - much to the consternation of the Ministers who had hoped to push at least one of their enterprising daughters and granddaughters into the Son of Heaven’s bed.

The Empress who was very much distinctly, a man.

Which makes what they’re doing something that borders on treason and necessity itself.

That man’s influence on the Emperor and the Court cannot continue and must not be allowed to. The gathered Ministers drink their tea in silence, watching the door for the messenger who will bring the report of their success.

They know they cannot lay a hand on either the Crown Prince or the newborn prince; the Emperor has them well-guarded and wrapped in the security of his most trusted guards who were beyond reproach and bribery. But it did not mean they could not get to the Empress. There were more than a few Palace maids and eunuchs who were still loyal to these deeply rooted families; people they have forged connections with that had spanned generations. These were the people they’ve tasked to attend to the Empress during his confinement.

It will be easy to dispatch of an eyesore who should have never been crowned in the first place.

Someone clears their throat and another sets his teacup down a little harder than it should be. Each one of these men looked peaceful on the surface, wrinkled face unmarred by any visible markers of stress. In fact, if anyone were to look into this group of men, they would have thought they were all bound for enlightenment at any moment. But the tension of waiting is punctuated by the changing of the hour and under the placid surface was nothing more than the seas in the middle of a storm.

They were about to call for an attendant to refill the teapots, when a long shadow colours the doorway. Their first instinct was that this was their moment of victory but that quickly sours into the cold realisation of who the person is.

“Your Highness...”

The Ministers rise in a flurry, going to their knees, bowing in flustered and fear tinged greeting.

The Empress smiles. His tall figure is hidden by a long black cloak which does little to downplay the sheer imposing nature of his presence as he crosses the threshold, calmly looking around the gathered members of the Court here. His long dark hard is pulled back in a simple undo, adorned with clasps of gold and turquoise. “Good evening, sirs,” He says, still wearing that smile. Someone bustles forth with a chair and the Empress sits. It is then that they realise that with him are ranking members of the Palace Guards who loom in their dark uniforms and the severe glints of their swords.

“If you’re looking for the Emperor, he isn’t here. He has been provided with a suitable diversion with our children,” The Empress says sunnily, accepting a proffered cup of steaming tea. Sighing as he takes a sip, he calmly regards them with a cheerful sensibility that was at odds with the way the troop of Palace Guards immediately take up all corners of the room.

This does not bode well.

“The way I see it, you have two options. One, you confess to an attempted assassination on this one’s life. In court. In front of all your peers, in front of my husband. Now, I’m sure you all know what he is capable of. What we are both capable of. Your crime will implicate not only you but your families as well,” The Empress says solemnly.

A cold silence descends. “Minister Jing, how is your new grandson, hm? Just celebrated his full moon, didn’t he? And how about your new concubine, Minister Tan? Pregnant, isn’t she? And at your age too.” The Empress huffs, passing the teacup back to the young maid next to her. “Ministers, I could go on.”

“And the second?” Someone quietly asks.

“The second is a warning. Not for you, but for everyone who comes after you.”

With a languid flick of his wrist, he calls forth General Han Ying who unlatches the cover of a plain box to reveal lengths of white cloths. The meaning is clear.

“Of course, it won’t be all at once and I am not so unimaginative that you all will... Leave the same way,” The Empress chuckles, closing an elegant hand over his lips. “Choose this path and we will arrange everything for you. From the second it begins to the moment it ends and to what comes after. You won’t have to worry about a single thing. No one else gets hurt.”

One of the elder Ministers shudders, lifting his head. “This is cruelty.”

“This is a blessing,” The Empress counters, all trace of geniality gone. All gathered cower lower to the ground.

How could they have forgotten? When this man was crowned, he’d been crowned with blood still rusting on his armour and dripping off the edge of his blade. This was the man their Emperor has chosen and for good reason.

With the quiet rustle of fabric, the Empress stands, apparently satisfied with the display of his magnanimity for the day. “You choose.”

#wenzhou #word of honor #wen kexing #zhou zishu #gab writes stuff #emperor & empress au

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weighty-ghosts · 3 years

Text

‘My Favourite Dark Creature’ (wolfstar)

My Favourite Dark Creature, by weightyghosts

“‘The flirtations were getting out of control, and either Sirius knew the effect he had on Remus and enjoyed torturing him, or he was completely oblivious and Remus would have to put up with it for the rest of his miserable, lonely life.’

A story of fantasies and fears, pining, and love languages.”

Rating: Teen

Word count: 2729

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: March 10, 2021

Warnings: None

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950935

“I swear you’ll be the death of me one day,” Remus grumbled at Sirius, straightening up after having almost been decapitated by the case of butterbeer Sirius was levitating.

“It’s possible,” Sirius quipped, “I am heart-stoppingly good looking.”

“‘Stoppingly’ is not a word,” Remus sighed as they continued down the underground tunnel, illuminated only by the bright blue flames Remus had charmed to float above their heads. He twisted his wand so that his own case did an elegant flip over Sirius’. They’d learned by now to put protection charms on the bottles for the hike back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Sirius tended to get bored.

“At least you agree about my looks,” Sirius remarked with a casual toss of his long hair.

“What gave you that idea?”

“You didn’t disagree,” he replied simply.

“Yeah, but I didn’t agree,” Remus countered.

“Yeah, but you didn’t disagree.”

“Considering my heart is pounding away in my chest,” Remus pointed out in a patronizing tone, “Your theory must be incorrect.”

“Oh it’s pounding away, is it?” Sirius raised his eyebrows, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Don’t make a dirty joke because I said pounding,” Remus pleaded, and neatly skirted his case out of the way when Sirius tried to knock it against the wall.

“I don’t know where your mind is, Mr. Moony-”

“Unfortunately spending too much time with you, Mr. Padfoot.”

“-But I was only going to ask if it’s normal for your heart to be pounding while walking at a leisurely pace? Or,” Sirius stopped abruptly, and pulled Remus to a halt beside him, “Is it being in proximity to an outrageously gorgeous bloke, such as myself, that makes your pulse race?”

“My pulse isn’t racing, thank you very much,” Remus lied, his voice much more stable than he felt. He was mesmerized by the way the dark lighting threw deep indigo shadows on Sirius’ face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and alluring Cupid’s bow.

“Shall we see?” Sirius whispered. He reached out and brushed his fingers along Remus’ neck, just above his collarbone and up to a spot below his jaw, right where Sirius would be able to feel his frantic heart.

Remus cleared his suddenly dry throat. “My heart rate is faster than yours,” he quickly grasped for an excuse, “Werewolf thing.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, looking from Remus’ neck back up to his eyes as his curiosity was piqued. It was enough of a distraction for Remus to wriggle away from him.

“No,” he grinned over his shoulder as he fled the scene, trying to walk as fast as he could without it seeming like he was actually running from Sirius.

His case of butterbeer bounced off the wall as he rushed around a corner, and he finally spotted the false wall that hid the entrance to the secret passageway. Remus almost groaned with relief. He had to get away from Sirius; the flirtations were getting out of control, and either Sirius knew the effect he had on Remus and enjoyed torturing him, or he was completely oblivious and Remus would have to put up with it for the rest of his miserable, lonely life.

“You know,” Sirius remarked as he appeared behind Remus, “Lying is a huge turn off, Moony.”

“So is your massive ego, Padfoot,” Remus replied.

They set their cases on the ground, tapping them with their wands so that they shrunk down to pocket size. After straightening up with the bottles safely tucked away, Sirius pulled James’ invisibility cloak from his robes and, once again, stepped up to Remus. “I only state the facts, Moony.”

“It’s not like I was trying to turn you on,” Remus said, trying to sound defensive, but failing as his voice wavered when Sirius crowded into his space. He took out his wand and extinguished the blue flames so that Sirius couldn’t see his panicked face, plunging them into near darkness.

“Good,” Sirius retorted in a low voice, and threw the cloak over them. “Neither was I.”

“Good,” Remus echoed, and looked away under the pretence of bending his neck so they would fit without their feet showing. He didn’t know why he played this game with Sirius. It always ended with Sirius having the upper hand, and Remus blushing and running away. He could easily change the subject, talk about disgusting things like bubotuber pus or whatever was growing under Pete’s bed, but apparently he couldn’t help himself.

He could feel Sirius watching him for a moment before he turned and opened the hidden entrance. They came out onto the first floor, stepping around the statue of Gregory the Smarmy as the concealed wall silently moved back into place on its own. They made their way to the main staircase, and Remus braced himself for the intimate trek to Gryffindor tower, intensely aware of the warm air they were sharing, as well as every place their limbs brushed against each other.

“Pete’s birthday should be fun tomorrow,” Remus blurted out, desperate for something to focus on that wasn’t the enticing scent of his best mate’s hair.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, glancing sideways at Remus, “As long as we make sure he’s the centre of attention, he’ll have a great time.”

“You mean as long as you sacrifice your own time in the spotlight?” Remus mocked, playfully elbowing Sirius in the side.

“Oi!” Sirius protested, reciprocating with his own elbow jab, “I’m happy to shine the spotlight on a mate when it’s his birthday.”

“So all the girls that will undoubtedly be fawning over you, you’ll send them Pete’s way?”

“Of course.”

“But then who will you let out all of your charm on, Sirius?” Remus pretended to be utterly concerned by this, “I think you might implode if you don’t flirt your way into someone’s knickers at a party.”

Sirius scowled at him in a way that Remus thought he shouldn’t find so damn attractive, but then again, he was fairly sure Sirius could have his eyebrows hexed off and Remus would still want to snog him silly.

“I sense a challenge, Moony,” Sirius declared, “And I accept.”

“I didn’t challenge you,” Remus pointed out, “But I don’t think you could do it anyway.”

“You might be right.” Sirius tapped his chin as he mused on this. “I need an outlet,” he concluded, turning to Remus with a cheeky smile, “How about you, my Moony dearest? Perhaps I’ll woo you at the party tomorrow.”

“Woo me?” Remus snorted, pushing down the frenzied butterflies that had spawned in his stomach. “No, thank you.”

“I see. Well, maybe that’s for the best,” Sirius said with a shrug of casual indifference, “I doubt you could handle the full power of the Sirius Black charm.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Nope. I haven’t met anyone yet who’s been able to resist.”

Remus snickered. “McGonagall does a pretty good job.”

“Nah, Minnie loves it,” Sirius dismissed him with a wave of his hand, “She wants me.”

“What a fun little fantasy world you live in, Sirius.”

“Trust me, Remus,” Sirius dropped his voice as if he were letting Remus in on a furtive secret, “If we were in my fantasy world, this evening would have gone a lot differently.”

Remus stopped walking so suddenly that Sirius almost entirely slipped out from under the cloak. He quickly backtracked and sidled up to Remus, surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one had seen the lower half of his body.

“What is it?”

What is it? Did Sirius really expect Remus not to pause at his remark? At the possible implication that Sirius might be having fantasies about him? He felt a hot blush creep up his neck, colouring his cheeks.

Sirius must have been able to see his flushed face even in the dimly lit castle, or maybe he could feel the heat radiating off Remus, because he smirked in a thoroughly smug (and distractingly sexy) way. “Told you that you couldn’t handle my charm, Moony.”

“No,” Remus huffed with indignation, “It’s not that.” He tried to reassure himself that Sirius was just kidding. Sure, this might have been taking the flirting further than he ever had before, but Sirius flirted with everyone. What made Remus any different?

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked tentatively. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he couldn’t control when he was unsure or nervous, and Remus didn't know what to make of that.

“I was just...” Just thinking about my own fantasies that you star in almost every night, Sirius. No, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t understand Sirius’ feelings or motivations, and not understanding something made Remus uneasy. He swivelled back to familiar territory, “Er, just thinking what a dark and terrifying place your fantasy world must be.”

“Oh,” Sirius exhaled with a shaky laugh. “Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t want to go there,” he said, as they started to softly walk through the halls again, “Spooky stuff.”

“Full of ghosts and ghouls and dark creatures?” Remus teased.

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Sirius reassured, his mouth pulled into a warm half-smile, “My favourite dark creature is there to keep me company.”

Before Remus could respond, they arrived at the portrait hole, and Sirius looked around for any roaming prefects or professors, before tugging the invisibility cloak off of them. “Treacle tart,” he said to the Great Lady, who grumbled sleepily at them and opened the hidden door to their common room, which was empty due to the late hour.

Remus climbed through first, his thoughts reeling as he waited for Sirius. Remus liked to think he knew Sirius well after more than six years. Sirius wasn’t one to spell out his innermost thoughts and feelings; he hinted at things, showing his emotions through actions, not words. And how did he act with Remus?

Moments of their friendship played inside his mind, quickly flipping past like the scenery through the windows of the Hogwarts Express: Sirius’ gentle hands on him after the full moon; Sirius bringing him his favourite tea; helping Remus with his homework when he’s too exhausted to think straight; pulling a blanket over him when he’s fallen asleep reading; becoming an animagus for him so that he doesn’t have to spend the worst nights of his life alone every month…

It was hard for Remus to admit. Even though his parents had done what they could to make him feel loved, a part of him always suspected that that was out of guilt or obligation. He had spent so much of his life believing he wasn’t good enough, or human enough, to truly be loved. But didn’t Sirius spend every day showing Remus how much he loved him?

They ascended the stairs to the boy’s dorms silently, both lost in thought, and Remus’ doubts began to filter in as quickly as his hope had. Sirius would be mad to choose a dark creature over a whole, healthy human. While Sirius claimed to never be afraid of Remus, friendship was different from a romantic relationship. Wouldn’t he be scared to spend his life with someone like Remus?

They reached their dorm and paused outside it, turning so they faced each other.

“You’re not afraid of him, then?” Remus asked in a low voice, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve.

“Who?” Sirius asked, blinking as if coming out of a haze. He also kept his voice down so as not to alert James or Peter that they were there. “My favourite dark creature?”

Remus nodded minutely. “Must be dangerous, no?”

“Nah,” Sirius grinned as he dismissed that as a ridiculous question, “He’s as harmless as a crup.”

Remus snorted in disbelief, though there was no humour in it.

“It’s true,” Sirius insisted. “Besides,” he murmured, sliding closer so they were almost toe to toe, “What’s life without a little danger, Moony?”

All Remus could hear was his pulse hammering in his ears, and all Remus could see was Sirius looking up at him, his dark grey eyes brewing with a storm of emotion that was yet unfamiliar to Remus. He was pulled towards Sirius as if the gravity that grounded him to the earth had now flowed to the beautiful person in front of him, and he could feel a tectonic shift occurring under the surface of their friendship.

He moved closer, until Sirius’ breath came as warm puffs of air on his face, and just as Remus’ eyes slid down to his lips, they parted as Sirius spoke.

“I am a little afraid, I think,” he confided in a soft voice.

Remus jerked back, not having realized just how close he’d been leaning in, his eyes wide with alarm. He’s afraid of me, he’s afraid of me, I knew it.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed, “No, Moony, not...I’m not afraid of you,” he hastened to explain. He put his hands up, as if he were going to reach out and place them on Remus’ chest, but reconsidered and dropped them lower, playing with the fabric on the front of Remus’ robes. He was chewing on his cheek again, his gaze focused on his fingers. “I’m just... I don’t want…”

Remus felt that magnetic pull again, like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest and into Sirius’ hands. “You don’t want what?”

Sirius’ shimmering eyes flicked back up to his, and he whispered, “I don’t want-”

They both jumped a foot in the air as the dormitory door was abruptly yanked open, and they leapt apart when James’ confused face peered out.

“What’re you two doing?” He asked, frowning with suspicion.

Sirius put on a smile and patted James’ shoulder. “Just talking about how much we missed you this evening, Prongsie.” He sidled past James without another glance at Remus.

James rolled his eyes and moved aside for Remus to follow. “More like plotting how you’ll get me and Wormy to go on the next Hogsmeade run so you lazy arses don’t have to.”

“We were happy to do it for our Wormy’s birthday,” Sirius refuted in a dignified voice. He stepped over to Peter, who was laying on his bed, and took out his miniature case of butterbeer to hand it to him. Peter grinned as he accepted it.

Remus walked over and did the same, watching as Peter tucked them away in his trunk with the other supplies for the party, and avoided looking at Sirius as they settled in to go over the birthday plan again.

A little while later, Remus was in his pyjamas, brushing his teeth alone in the bathroom, when Sirius came in. He wandered over to the sinks and hovered next to Remus, methodically taking out his toothbrush and squeezing on his favourite rhubarb toothpaste, a thoughtful expression on his face. Remus was rinsing his mouth and about to bolt from the room when Sirius spoke.

“I was thinking, Moony,” he garbled around his toothbrush, looking up into the mirror so their eyes met. “I don’t know if we have enough butterbeer for tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded earnestly, “We might have to go back to Hogsmeade before the party.”

Remus saw a glint of a promise, a secret, in Sirius’ eyes, and he felt those same frenzied butterflies migrate back into his stomach.

“‘We’ as in…”

“You and me, of course,” Sirius stated, as if this were obvious, and leaned down to spit into the sink before rinsing his mouth. He turned towards Remus, their faces inches away, and Sirius reached out to tug gently on the hem of Remus’ shirt, “That tunnel is spooky,” he continued in a low voice, “I’ll need my werewolf there with me.”

Remus could see in the mirror that his mouth had popped open in surprise, but he couldn’t seem to get his brain working again to do something about it. He should respond, but his mind was completely empty, except for the vague thought that Sirius still looked gorgeous with toothpaste on his chin.

Sirius suddenly dropped his hand and stepped back, beaming at Remus. “‘Night, Moons,” he said cheerily, then dashed out of the room, leaving Remus staring after him.

That night, it took Remus a long time to fall asleep, but when he did, it was with a smile on his face, and the words, ‘my werewolf,’ playing on repeat in his head.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #ficbyweightyghosts #i know i called her the great lady instead of the fat lady #fat is beautiful #but jkr is fatphobic af and i question her motives #pre-wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #hogwarts #marauders era #marauders #James potter #peter pettigrew #almost kiss #flirting #wolfstar flirting #padfoot x moony

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