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vldkeith · 2 years

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julance☀️🌊🚀 week four: birthday 🎂🎉 or blue paladin

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANCE!! i love you so much and i've only grown to love you more over the years. i hope everybody had fun with this julance and enjoyed these fics! thank you, hbd lance my love <3

🖼 companion art by @vldlance 🥺

read on ao3 (leave a kudos even if u read it on tumblr please!)

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

On one offhanded afternoon, Keith had happened to glance at the Earth calendar Lance and Hunk insisted on keeping in the shared living space as a reminder of home. He’d examined it rather apathetically, trying to figure out what the date was on Earth more out of boredom than any real need to know. By his calculations, it was July 21st—oh, so, after July 4th… Keith had thought, mind already wandering away from the task.

It wasn’t until he’d reached the door to leave that he realized July 21st was only seven days before July 28th—A.K.A., his boyfriend’s birthday.

Shit.

He had a week.

Keith allowed himself one day to panic, one day to desperately try to come up with something to get Lance without help from anyone, and emerged the next morning with a crushed spirit and nothing to show for it. He’d never been very good at gifts—the first gift he’d gotten Shiro was a gift card to Lowes, for god’s sake—and this is his and Lance’s first event together as a couple, Keith’s first opportunity to prove that he can make his boyfriend happy with a thoughtful present.

And he couldn’t think of anything.

Despairing, Keith had resolved to consult the advice of the first person he saw (other than Lance, of course) that morning after he emerged from his room. Perhaps the fact that he then almost immediately ran head-long into Coran the second he stepped out of the doorway was a sign from god.

Or the devil. It depends on how things go right now.

“Keith, my boy!” Coran exclaims, hand raising instantly to fix his mildly-tousled hair from their collision. “You nearly scared the living daylights out of me! Watch where you’re going, eh?”

The way Coran says it is good-natured, but Keith still has the teenage impulse to roll his eyes and snark back that maybe Coran should also watch where he’s going, thank you very much. He tamps that down, though, because he has learned the hard way that antagonizing someone you need something from is never the best way to get what you want. “Sorry. Hey, can I ask you something, though?”

Coran raises an eyebrow, a glint in his eye that instantly makes Keith feel like a child seeking advice from a wise uncle, or perhaps a grandfather. Keith’s not sure Coran fits either of those bills. “Of course! What can I help you with?”

“Lance’s birthday is coming up…” Keith begins hesitantly, reluctant to admit he’s having so much difficulty with this, “…and I have no idea what to get him. Any ideas?”

Instantly, Coran’s eyes are shining, and a wide smile stretches across his face, crinkling his mustache. He throws his hands up and declares, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, my boy! Yes, yes, I have the perfect idea! Come, come!”

Bemused and a little unsettled by the enthusiastic response, Keith allows Coran to lead him to the front of the castleship, where he begins to quickly fiddle with the holographic maps.

“I had an inkling that you would need a little help, you see,” Coran says as he does this, bustling around and making noises that sound like several pots and pans banging together, “so I took it upon myself to think up a truly fantastic, show-stopping gift idea ahead of time! Oh, ever since you and Lance sealed the ol’ smackaroo, I had a premonition, of sorts, that you would seek my counsel for this ever-important matter because, and I’m sorry to say this, Red Paladin, but you are not exactly the tip of the Quindylzic when it comes to emotional intelligence!”

Keith is still trying to figure out how offended he should be by Coran’s when suddenly, with a great whooshing sound, blue stars and planets snap into being around him, twinkling and hovering idly. Coran claps his hands, satisfied.

“Perfect! Now, Keith, let’s get you over here—”

Coran grips Keith’s shoulders and steers him to the completely opposite side of the room, planting him squarely in front of the floating holographs of the universe. Keith can’t help but feel a bit in awe of the whole thing, even though he’s seen it multiple times by now, and even though Coran seems to have no trouble in manhandling him without his consent.

“There we go. Now then!” Coran clasps his hands together excitedly, taking up position to his right and gazing toward the map. “Your gift to the Blue Paladin, my bumbling Whizzmawoll, is going to be his very own star.”

There is a beat of silence in which Coran beams at Keith and Keith becomes increasingly confused and agitated.

“Um…” Keith tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Well—we, uh, have something like that on Earth. I kind of feel like it’s not really…enough.”

The smile on Coran’s face wilts slightly. “Do you? I’m surprised, I—I must confess, I did not think Earth had reached far enough into space to deal in the star business.”

Keith shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, you just contact NASA or the government or whatever, pick a star, and then get a piece of paper saying the star is yours. It’s not like you own it in any real way.”

“Ohhhhh!” Coran breathes out emphatically—and then, wide grin back on his face, continues, “I see!”

He throws an arm around Keith and winks. “Well, Emo Paladin of Fire,” he proclaims, voice infused with triumph, “I can safely assure you that, with my method, he will receive much more than a paltry piece of paper.”

Keith stares at the glass of his helmet, lit up to tell him that he’s arrived at the place he needs to be in order to purchase a star. Coran had spent a good 45 minutes detailing the grandness of owning a star, the status it confers upon the owner, the rich history of privatization and battles through which the industry finally emerged. It had been more than a little overwhelming, and Keith had wondered briefly if he’d even be allowed to step foot into such an extravagant place, convinced that star dealings must happen in opulent casinos and hotels meant for the superrich, plated in gold or Quintessence or whatever stood for value out in space like this.

The place Keith is standing in front of, though…God. There’s no way around it.

It looks like the fucking DMV.

A bland brown box-shaped building looms unimpressively in front of Keith, it’s double-doors thrown open enough so that Keith can get a view of the inside, which is lined with chairs facing toward a large desk counter where five aliens sit, conversing with customers. As Keith stands, frozen, trying to figure out if he’s made a wrong turn somewhere, an amplified voice calls out a series of garbled words Keith cannot understand, and an alien rises from the chair and makes its way slowly to the front.

Keith can already feel the itchy restlessness crawling up his skin. He hates the DMV. He hates anything that operates like the DMV. This…is his own personal form of hell.

After triple- and quadruple-checking that he’s got the right place (he does, and the thought makes him want to kill himself), Keith trudges morosely into the building, leaving Red outside and feeling massively stupid in his full Paladin getup.

He approaches the counter. The alien—a small gecko-like creature with pink scales and bulbous eyes—says something to him in a foreign language.

“Sorry—what?” Keith says helplessly. The alien sighs, rolls its eyes, and switches to English.

“What can I help you with today?” Its tone is monotonous and bland, as it’s liable to be after presumably hours dealing with the same mundane tasks. Keith hopes these employees are paid well.

“Um, I’d like to buy a…star? If I can?”

“Hmmm.” It looks him up and down, apparently unconvinced. “You’ll need proof of residence and identity. Can you provide that?”

Panic shoots through Keith. “I don’t—Well, no, because I don’t live anywhere,” he says, blinking.

The alien blinks back at him. “You don’t live anywhere,” it repeats, voice flat. “Well, then I’m afraid I can’t—”

“W-Wait!” Keith scrambles closer, leaning in nervously. He has to make this work. “I—I don’t live anywhere permanent, I live on—on a ship that, like, travels around the universe a lot. I can show you a picture of the ship? If you want?”

“A picture is not proper documentation, sir.”

He’s losing the alien, and fast—he needs to change tactic. “Look,” Keith lowers his voice anxiously, eyes darting around him, “I don’t live anywhere because I’m a Paladin of Voltron. You’ve heard of Voltron, right? Defender of the universe or whatever? That’s me. Or, partly me. Me and four other people. A-Anyway, we travel around and go where we’re needed, that’s why I don’t have an address. Or an identity. Okay?” Keith’s voice is a high-pitched whisper by the end of his explanation, and he knows he looks frantic and crazy. He can only hope that that makes him a little bit more believable.

The alien levels him with a critical, deadpan stare. “You expect me to believe a Paladin of Voltron just walked in here wanting to buy a star? Really?” Its voice is so convinced of Keith’s foolishness that Keith almost opens his mouth to apologize, before realizing that yes, that’s actually exactly what’s happening!

“…Yes?”

The two look at each other for a moment more, sizing each other up, before the alien sighs and, reaching to tear off a slip of paper from the machine next to it, mutters, “Frankly, I’m not paid enough for this. Here you go.”

Nearly sagging with relief, Keith receives the paper with gratitude. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, and escapes quickly to a seat before the alien can change its mind.

Keith spends nearly two hours that day in that stuffy, crowded, beige monstrosity of a building, but by the time he emerges—worn down and dragging his feet like he’s battled fifteen Galra soldiers at once—he’s armed with coordinates to a star and an elongated box clutched under his arm. He’s exhausted from the bureaucracy of it all, but he can’t deny the sense of glowing accomplishment he feels at having secured such a magical gift for Lance’s birthday.

That is, if this whole thing isn’t a scam. He’ll have to wait a few more days to find that out.

Nervousness buzzes through Keith’s body as he sits in Red’s cockpit waiting for Lance to arrive. It’s the day—July 28th, Lance’s birthday. So far, Keith’s felt pretty good about how it’s been celebrated; Hunk managed to get his hands on some Earth ingredients and was able to make, with minimal substitutions, a pretty skilled replica of Lance’s mom’s garlic knots. Well, Keith assumes it was a good replica, anyway; Lance nearly started crying when he bit into one, and had to leave the room for five minutes to collect himself.

Pidge and Allura teamed up to make Lance a small, stuffed Blue Lion, using Allura’s sewing skills and Pidge’s penchant for precision to make a damn-near perfect replica of the robot cat that somehow still retained the plushness associated with stuffed animals. Lance has insisted on carrying her around with him wherever he goes, like a child given a new toy on Christmas. It’s adorable. She’ll probably be coming with them on this trip, too.

Finally, Shiro presented Lance with a set of blue-topaz earrings that made Keith a little weak at the knees when Lance tried them on—something that Shiro had not missed, if his mischievous smirk was anything to go by. Lance had been overjoyed to receive them, rambling on about how nobody ever got him earrings and of course becoming besties with another gay man would be the perfect way to remedy that situation. He’d then put them carefully back into the box, claiming he wanted a whole day to enjoy them, that half a day didn’t fully appreciate their majesty the way he wanted to. The whole scene had had Keith smiling uncontrollably, because it had felt like his boyfriend and his dad were getting along, even though Shiro was more than that to both Keith and Lance. Still, it had warmed his heart.

Throughout the day, though, Lance had been making comments about Keith’s lack of a gift for him, betraying his impatience by turning to Keith expectantly after opening and cooing over every other gift. Keith had kept his mouth shut with playful feigned ignorance, and had told Lance simply to meet him in Red after dinner that night.

That time is now. And, on cue, Keith hears Lance’s footsteps approaching.

“Alright, Keith, you’ve made me wait long enough,” Lance declares before he’s even fully inside of Red. Keith turns to greet him as he steps into the cockpit, holding plushie Blue in his hands. “What’s my present? Tell me!”

Keith presses the button to close Red’s entrance. “I’m going to show you, actually. Just a little bit longer.” Keith reaches for the oblong box he’d gotten earlier that week, whisking it carefully off of Red’s controls. “But first…”

He hands it bashfully to Lance, keeping his eyes trained on his own hands as he does. Lance blinks, gazing at it with bemusement. Without much preamble, though, he pulls the lid off gently, revealing a glimmering necklace with a blue cord attached to a small, pink-and-gold glowing orb encasing a bright bundle of blue waviness made of fire and gasses. It blazes and rotates, a living piece of jewelry, reminding Keith of the sun in shape and planet Neptune in color.

Lance gazes at it with awe. “Woah. Keith, this is—” He turns his intense stare on Keith, instead. “This is beautiful. Thank you. I…” He coughs a little, and then laughs at himself. “I don’t know what to say.”

Keith’s heart swells with pride. “That’s not even the best part!” he replies eagerly, now twice as excited to get to the real thing. He turns around, then, not wanting to waist another moment—and pauses. “You should put it on,” he adds quickly, giving Lance a slight smile over his shoulder.

Lance, who had been staring reverently at the necklace still in its box, blinks as if coming out of a stupor. “Right!” Quickly, he slips the necklace over his head and allows it to settle across his throat. It looks enchanting on him.

Satisfied, Keith starts Red up and flies them into the vastness of space, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. He’d plugged the coordinates into Red’s system in advance, so the most he really has to do is keep them gliding along that path.

As they near their destination, Keith notices, Lance’s necklace lifts off of his body, floating into the air like a magical object aware that it is approaching its creator, unencumbered by something so trivial as gravity. Lance ooohsand ahhs at this, experimenting with it by trying to push it back down, and reveling in his failure to do so.

By the time Keith puts Red into standby mode, the necklace is hovering at the height of Lance’s mouth, though Keith has instructed Lance to turn away from all windows, lest the surprise be spoiled. Once he’s sure Red is stationary—he doesn’t need to confirm that they’re in the right place; he can see it, right in front of him, in all of its glory—he takes Lance’s hand and leads him to the pilot’s chair.

“Sit down.”

Lance obliges, and Keith makes himself comfy on Lance’s lap, an action that has Lance chuckling and sliding his arm around Keith’s waist, pulling him closer. “Can I open my eyes yet, pretty boy?” he asks suggestively, alerting Keith to the fact that maybe Lance thinks his present is of a bit of a different nature than it is.

Despite his blush, Keith snorts. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Lance opens his eyes and witnesses his star.

It is the blue ball of light, fire, and gas housed in his necklace, but thousands of times larger, taking up nearly the entire visage of the cockpit window with its magnificence. They’re far enough that it isn’t technically dangerous, but it still feels like being in the presence of a god, of something with far greater power than any human—even Paladins of Voltron—can ever hold. Blue fire spews from the constantly-moving ball of light, and it swirls amongst itself, radiating a luminescence so brilliant that Keith briefly considers shielding his eyes, but decides not to.

They both revel at the star, at the proximity of it, and Keith keeps an eye on Lance, waiting for him to put the pieces together. It is only when Lance notices his necklace floating pleasantly closer to the star, however, that he gets it.

“Wait a minute—” Lance begins, turning a wide-eyed gaze to Keith, “Is this—?”

“Yeah.” Keith nods, his smile lopsided and emotional. “All yours.”

Lance is silent for a moment, staring up at the star. It is reflected in his eyes, making their blue color all the more transfixing and bright.

“You got me a star?”

Keith is not entirely prepared for the genuine emotion in Lance’s voice, or the way he can see tears begin to prick at his eyes. He’s about to double back, ask if Lance is okay, when Lance suddenly buries his face in Keith’s neck, shaking with musical laughter.

“How am I going to outdo you for your birthday, Kogane? Holy crow,” he says after a moment, lifting his head and giving Keith a binding smile. “Screw you!”

“Please,” Keith scoffs, though he’s absolutely radiating pride and happiness. “I’d be happy if you let me suck your—”

“Oh my god!” Lance shoves his hand over Keith’s mouth, collapsing into more laughter. “Shut up! You’re so annoying!”

Keith’s chuckling joins Lance’s as he pries Lance’s hand away from his mouth. “Well, it’s true!”

Lance doesn’t deign that with a response, instead simply shaking his head and turning his attention back to the star in front of him, his star. “So,” he says after a moment, gesturing vaguely to his necklace, “this proves the star is mine, right? I basically have this…mini-star with me all the time?”

“Pretty much. It’ll float more the closer you are to the star. It’s kind of like a little piece of it that’s yours forever.”

“Wow.” Lance lets out a low whistle. “That’s way better than the pieces of paper they give you back on Earth.”

“Right?!” Keith nods emphatically. “Plus, like, we can actually see it out here, not just have a random blurry picture!”

Lance shakes his head, still smiling. “Earth is way behind the times, what’s new?”

They are quiet for a moment, lost in their respective thoughts as they gaze up at the star. When Lance breaks it, he’s quiet.

“Hey,” he murmurs, nuzzling against Keith’s throat, giving him goosebumps, “thank you. Seriously. This is—It’s maybe the best present I’ve ever gotten. Don’t tell anyone that, though.”

Keith laughs a little. “I won’t. Happy birthday, though. You deserve it, Lance.” He makes sure to look away when he adds, “You deserve it and more.”

“Keeeeeith,” Lance whines loudly, making Keith jump where he sits on top of him, “don’t make me cry again, I’ve already embarrassed myself once today!”

Keith rolls his eyes and swings a leg across Lance’s middle, resituating himself to be facing Lance instead of the large window. “Alright, alright, enough of being sentimental. I have another part of your gift, too.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Whatever could it be?” he asks playfully, hands settling on Keith’s hips.

“I’ll show you.”

The space between them closes, and the last thought Keith allows himself before giving in to the sensation of kissing Lance McClain, is Thank god, I finally got it right this time.

He’ll have to thank Coran with some Nunvil, later.

☕️ko-fi - please consider buying me a coffee if you enjoyed my work this month! thank you!

#klance #klance fanfiction #julance2022 #lance mcclain #voltron #voltron fanfiction #renfic

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kentos-filmcamera · 3 years

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10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

2. Gift

A/N: aaaaa i woke up to a lot of notifs, i’m so glad everyone is liking it so far! thank u sm for reading! just a quick clarification, I’m setting the reader as non binary; i will be using mostly they/them pronouns and sometimes she/her but i will avoid to do so. happy reading!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Megumi!” You called, waving to the underclass man. He offered you a tiny smile and a wave back. You let go of Toge’s hand to pull him into an embrace. “You’re taller! How much you’ve grown, my boy!” You’ve known him since forever, way before you met your fellow second years. And you always loved to pester him.

“I’m the same exact way since you last saw me” He deadpanned as you pinched his cheeks, his voice as plain as you remembered it to be. You only laughed and ruffled his hair, earning a groan.

“Where’s my hug?” You heard the voice of Gojo Satoru resonate through your ears for the first time in a while, and the most annoying phrase in existence was what he chose to say.

You turned to look at him, unimpressed, your expression matching Fushiguro’s. You were met with his usual cheeky smile and raised brows. He extended his arms and did ‘grabby’ hands as children did. Oh my. This man was annoying; and to think you even considered you missed him in the first place.

“Up your ass” You replied and moved his arms away from nearing your torso. He gasped dramatically and pouted like a wounded puppy. You only gave him a pat in his shoulder “Glad to see you’re... Well, alive”

“Don’t speak to Gojo-sensei like that!” You heard a foreign voice, the same one you heard from a far moments ago. You turn to look at the boy with the pink hair with a raised eyebrow. Something in your head clicked, as did your tongue. You pointed at him.

“Sukuna’s vessel” You said. Even up in the mountains the hottest gossip was the kid that ate one of Sukuna’s fingers and actually withstanded to house the spirit inside him. It was the talk at the dinner table for weeks. Your sister was specifically interested in it one night, making her spill hot soup all over your lap when she was in charge of serving everyone that night.

“Itadori Yuuji” He corrected. You stared at him up and down and gave a tiny smile and a nod.

“And this is Nobara Kugisaki” Panda indicated to you, as you turned to face the ginger that looked at you with gleaming eyes. You waved shortly before introducing yourself to both.

One of their faces lit up “You got attacked by a special cursed spirit last year right?” The boy you recognized as Itadori spoke. Your face blanked and drained of any color as you tensed. The only remedy you found was to nod, your jaw clenched shut as Inumaki reached in to rub his hand through your shoulders. It relaxed you, but you didn’t remember him being this touchy before.

“Idiot! You don’t remind other people of their trauma!” Kugisaki hit him in the back of the head, noticing how your attitude shifted in seconds.

“But! It was awesome! You were the first first year ever to expand a complete domain!” Itadori protested, but he slumped realizing how far you were. Your eyes looked as if they were in another galaxy, your mind taking them far as you spaced out. You hated doing it, but it came rather involuntarily when you were avoiding getting hurt. “You’re so skilled”

“It wasn’t awesome. I—“ You sighed, and accepted the compliment, your mind returning back to the scene. “Thank you. I’ve been training since I saw my first curse” You gave a light thankful bow to him before turning to Toge “Walk me to my room?”

“Sake” He nodded, and led you ahead. Panda passed onto you the duffle bag and gave Inumaki the remaining handbag as you two walked in silence towards the second year building.

Your room was exactly as you left it, except for the made up bed. You remembered that morning clearly; you had always been an organized person, but when Maki pulled you out of your bed for what would be your last mission for a while, you didn’t have the time to fix it before leaving. As you looked around, you heard the sound of bags hitting the floor and the generic sound of typing on an electronic keyboard. Then your phone vibrated shortly on the pocket of your jacket. Taking it out, you read the new message.

[ Inumaki Toge: i laid the bed after you left. i knew you wouldn’t like to find it all messy after all this time ]

“Thank you” You spoke as a response. You stood in place, arms crossed and thought. Inumaki chuckled at your tongue poking out from the corner of your lips. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have liked to find the bed unmade after months” You smiled briefly at the warmth spreading through your chest, opened the windows and looked at your space.

On the bed, your new uniform was laid down, awaiting your return. You asked for both the option of wearing pants and a skirt, depending on the type of mission, you settled with what seemed more comfortable. Your closet was empty, as you didn’t know for how much you were going to be away, except for a few pieces you stole from Maki’s closet. Everything Toge gave you, you took with you, and you wouldn’t take things from Yuta without his permission. You looked at the picture on your nightstand of the five of you, taken by Gojo as you exited a training session. You laughed with Panda as Maki, seemingly angry elbowed you in the ribs, Inumaki and Yuta enjoyed the moment quietly, both smiling. Fitted on the inside edge of that picture frame was a strip of pictures you took at a carnival, in a picture booth with Inumaki before exorcising a curse haunting the house of mirrors. One of the most difficult, terrifying missions you could have ever taken, in your first year nevertheless. But getting some Italian food sponsored by Gojo’s wallet at 2 AM on a Saturday was a great way to end the night.

“Heh, look, you had spiky hair” You mentioned, taking the picture strip out of the frame and handing it over to the boy, who passed you another picture from your board by your desk in exchange. It was a selfie Gojo took with you and Maki, as he found you both sneaking in after getting piercings and tempura in Shibuya, taking Ijichi as hostage to drive you there. Remembering the event, you flipped down your septum, and checked for your five lobe piercings and your helix. Due to your family’s cursed technique, piercings were more than cliche, but on the ear, not on the nose. You opted for a septum for whenever you had to hide it. Your phone vibrated again.

[ Inumaki Toge: i always liked that piercing on u. u look very cool ]

[ Inumaki Toge: you’ve always looked cool :)) ]

“You flatter me too much, Toge, thank you” You turned away to hide the blush on your cheeks. Soon, you received a tap on your shoulder. You faced a flustered Inumaki with a dianty box in his hands. “Uh, you shouldn’t have, I—“ You were perplexed, trying to find the reason why he would give you a present.

“Bonito Flakes” He insisted, shoving the gift into your hands and pointing to the door with his head. He wanted to give you some space, to read the letter and to change back into your uniform.

“I’ll be quick, I promise” You gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before he rushed to leave the room.

You prioritized changing into your uniform, deciding for the navy high rise wide pants with slits on their outer sides going from your mid-upper thigh to the bottom of the piece, made for better movement in battle. You buttoned up and tucked the navy jujutsu high jacket, of which you wore a shorter version, with a classic white collar from your button up peeking out from underneath. You scouted your bag for the tiny chain you hung from the eyelet of the collar, it was a family heirloom, a protection chain; if anyone touched it in battle, your cursed technique of choice would come into effect. Besides, it made you look more classy.

You fixed the puffy long sleeves, the form and the material more breathable, flexible and comfortable for you. You reached out to your closet and fitted the white patent ankle boots, almost tripping while doing so.

“I’m okay!” You shouted back, responding to a soft knock on the door. They were similar to Inumaki’s own shoes, but more stylish. In general, you were more stylish than him; or anyone else in both campuses. You finally fitted your black arm band, which had strapped in a box of needles, a rather thin rope and some thread.

You sat in your bed and took the box between your hands, circling around your fingertips. You removed the decorative bow and cut through the sealing tape with your fingernails. In between the folds of tissue paper, you found a golden ring. Your lost ring. It looked different, but you could recognize that oval shaped emerald anywhere. You touched it several times to check if it was real or not. And it was. You rushed to find an explanation to this, prying the letter open with your fingernails.

“Hi,

As I’m writing this, I’m not sure when you’re coming back. Or if you’re even doing so. Writing this letter gives me hope for your return, as so did getting you this welcome back gift. It’s the ring you took so much pride in owning. Oh, well, part of it. I remember how you got rushed to the infirmary, wailing, touching your damaged hand to see if you had your ring. But you didn’t. I went back to the scene myself that same day, and the next, and the one after the other to find your missing jewel. When I found it, it looked terrible. It was dirty, bent, and the emerald had a crack in one of its corners. It took me some work, but I found someone that could restore it. It’s the original stone, and the original material but it had to be reshaped. I know you like signets, so I hope you can find appreciation in this one too.

You looked once more at the piece and let out a teary chuckle. You had suffered so much the loss of that ring. It was a present from your grandmother, now deceased. You hated yourself incessantly for losing it. But now, it was back in your grip. You slipped it into your ring finger and before continuing your lecture, you fanned your under eyes to avoid ruining the hint of makeup you currently wore.

If you’re reading this, I am so glad you’re back. I missed you, so so much. I’m glad to see you in good health. And I’m sorry everything happened the way it did. You didn’t do anything wrong. I know how you feel. Please trust me. Thank you once more for allowing me to speak to you through written words. You’re the only one I want to write to, anyways. I don’t have the patience for anyone else. Welcome back, cookie.

I love you.

Yours, Toge”

#jujutsu kaisen #inumaki #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #10times1occ

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septembersghost · 2 years

Photo

I saved this last week from an artist I follow who is releasing a book next month inspired by Romantic poetry (and has created art for Florence Welch). it’s very much my aesthetic™ and it struck me close to the heart, being posted so near Red’s re-recording and in the light (or shadow) of everything that’s happened this past year, real and not real. it may be part of why the thought of amaranthine was glistening somewhere in my mind - love-lies-bleeding, everlasting red.

the thing about our real loves is that they never die, and maybe that’s more true with connections to art than it even is in other places, because that passion is unique and flourishes in us differently, and blossoms in the soul.

being given Red, my longtime favorite album of Taylor’s (folklore may have surpassed it, but this week has vividly reminded me why it’s still near the top of the list, why I’ve carried and cherished it for so long) nine years after its original release was the best...balm or blessing or sense of catharsis I could possibly have asked for or been given to wrap around me this week. I’ve said this before, but how often do we ever get to relive something we deeply love twice? this has been simultaneously like going back in time and recapturing a younger part of myself, while also giving grace to my current self in her more grown yet far more fragile state. Taylor does a lot of comparing of love to sacredness, to holiness, and it captivates me because, albeit perhaps in a different sense (the spark is the same), I’ve long done that too. sacred prayer, I was there.

I’m not sure what to say about Dean tonight that I haven’t already, so there’s this - yes, he imprinted upon me as a person, and yes, I have struggled and grappled with tumultuous grief and anger for over a year that a story I loved for the entirety of my adult life was stolen from me in a way I couldn’t reconcile, as I know many of you have too. I sit here now, reflecting on it, on how inconsolable I was at this exact time of night a year ago, and thinking of the gift of the time I didn’t expect to have and to share with all of you, and I’m...feeling a sense of graciousness. not closure, or reconciliation, but it’s easier for me to breathe now. stories are what we make them. we hold onto what we need. in a lot of ways, Dean’s never felt as alive to me as he has this past year because of the deep conversations I’ve gotten to share with all of you, and the remembrances of why the story and its characters mattered. reclaiming music lives in a similar place in my spirit, and while I didn’t have to reclaim Red because it never left me, Taylor did, and she did it so triumphantly and bravely that it has made me feel a sense of something akin to...wonder, I guess? how we can embrace ourselves with gentleness and stitch our stories back together and say - I remember this, and it affected and touched me, and there was pain there, and love there, and we can present the pieces of that without shame, with sincerity. she said - it’s always been ours.

art is always ours. love is always ours. it’s resilient, and we can still find it whenever you need it. that’s what I’m remembering tonight. how powerfully it lives on, crystalline and (the word I’ve used too much but it’s the best description) transcendent. we craft it anew and make it real. never fading, forever beating.

thank you for sharing this past year with me 💖

#i know i said something this morning but tonight i wanted to say something else even if it's the same spiel worded differently #i am hugging you all <333 #bubble wrap around my heart #love cannot be killed or swept aside #love for you is like a religion #dean feelings #amaranthine #red tv #i've never been a natural; all i do is try try try #our love will be passed on #tonight i'm gonna dance for all that we've been through #*#thrown out speeches

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Chapter 7

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

EZ dropped Nina off at Angel’s house on his bike, and used his extra key to let her in. He stood around awkwardly for a few moments, before beginning to move some of Angel’s clutter from the coffee table. “He’s not the best cleaner…”, he muttered. “It’s ok. You should see my place”, Nina chuckled, suddenly feeling a sting in her heart. No matter how much she’d begun to care about the Mayans, she still had a hint of homesickness. “Well, seeing as you’re sticking around; maybe you can get Angel to pull his act together”, EZ smiled, and walked into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. He immediately shut it again. “I wouldn’t look in there”.

She sat leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, deep in thought. “Are you ok?”, EZ asked. “It’s just been a crazy few days…”, she muttered. He walked over to her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You know we have your back with this thing with Palo, right?”. She nodded slightly. “I know. But I still feel like I…”. She sighed, unable to finish her sentence. “Signed a deal with the enemy?”, EZ said. “With the club, I mean”.

Nina moved into the living room, and picked up her helmet; sitting down on the couch. EZ sat down next to her. “Mayans aren’t the enemy…”, she said. “No, but we’re not SAMCRO”, EZ replied. She met his eyes hesitantly. “Look, I get it. You don’t know us. Not really… And you still have family in Charming”. Nina nodded. “I’m not going back on my deal. And I want to be here; I mean, you guys have been really good to me”. “But you miss home”, he said, and took the helmet from her. “Angel mentioned your brother. Are you worried what he’d think if he knew you were here?”. Nina laughed out loud. “Oh, I know what he’d think. I know what he’d say as well… Chibs sent you down south to keep you safe, darlin’. Not sling beers and screw bikers. And then I’d remind him I’ve been doing pretty much the same thing in Charming up until now… Save the screwing bikers. No need for contraception, when you’ve got Happy looking over your shoulder”. EZ laughed at this, and squeezed her hand, before getting up to stand. “Yeah, he’s pretty scary”, he said. “Look, whether you stay for a week, a year, or however long; you got a home here now as well. And I hope whatever you have going on with Angel continues. You’re doing something to my brother. And I like having you around”. He bent down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, EZ”, Nina said. “No problem, hermanita… Family; right?”. She felt a smile tug at her lips, and squeezed his hand, before they said goodbye, and EZ left the house.

---

Nina was dozing off on Angel’s couch, a telenovela running on the flatscreen. She was jostled awake, at the sound of the front door opening, and him walking in. He closed and locked the door behind him, before turning to look at the tv. “Fucking Catalina…”, he muttered, took off his cut, and hung it over a chair, before going over to throw himself on the couch with Nina.

He wrapped both arms around her torso, and nuzzled up against her chest. “Everything ok?”, she asked, and ran her fingertips through his hair. “We just made five grand for the club on a kidney”, Angel smiled. “We’re good”. Nina shuddered. “Yeah… I still didn’t need to know”. Angel chuckled softly. “Sorry, querida”, he said. “Did you eat?”. Twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers, Nina shrugged. “Your fridge isn’t exactly stuffed”, she said. She’d gone against EZ’s advise, and checked it, after he left. Angel looked at her disgruntledly. “I got food…”, he pouted. Nina ran her index finger over his lower lip teasingly. “You mean that broccoli pizza you got on the shelf next to the Miller Lights?”. “That ain’t broccoli; that’s…”, Angel began, before meeting her eyes. “Right. I should probably do some grocery shopping. You could cook us a real meal”.

Nina frowned at his words, knowing it was time for some truth. She pushed at Angel’s shoulders, to make him sit up. “What’s wrong?”, he asked. Nina sighed deeply, and took his hand; kissing his knuckles. “I have to tell you something… And I don’t know if you’ll feel the same about me once I’m finished”. Angel looked worried. He tried to meet her eyes, but she looked away. “Nina, you’re scaring me. Talk to me”. He put a hand to the side of her face, stroking her temple, as if to soothe her. She finally looked up – meeting his terrified gaze – and took a deep breath. “Angel… I can’t cook”.

Angel let out a huff. “Fuck, Nina… That’s it? That’s the big secret? You fucking scared me!”. Nina laughed at his guffawed expression. “Oh, you think that’s funny? After everything these last few days; I was shitting myself!”. She put a hand on either side of his face, and went to kiss him. “Aw, poor baby. Come here…”. Angel pulled back, and grabbed her wrists. “Nah, mami. That shit ain’t funny…”. Nina straddled his lap, and attacked his face with kisses, while he continuously moved his head away. “I thought something was seriously wrong”. “I’m sorry”, Nina pouted. She shifted in his lap, grinding against him. “Forgive me?”. Angel groaned, and moved her off of him, with a firm grip on her hips. “I’m gonna go have some broccoli pizza”, he grunted, and got off the couch; moving towards the kitchen.

Nina let out a scoffing laugh, and shook her head. “Seriously? Angel, I was joking!”. She followed him into the kitchen. “I can’t hear you over the sound of the echo in my empty fridge!”, Angel said, and grabbed a slice of cold pizza, before slamming the fridge-door shut. He took one bite of the slice, before wincing, and spitting it out in the trash-can. He dumped the rest of the slice as well. “Angel…”, Nina said. Angel nabbed a beer in stead of the pizza, and opened it; taking a big gulp while theatrically ignoring her. “Angel!”, she repeated. Angel walked past her, and back into the living room. Nina sighed. “Papi…?”.

Angel stopped dead in his tracks, and turned around slowly. “I’m listening…”. Nina walked slowly towards him, pushing out her lower lip. “I’m sorry I tricked you…”, she said, and looked at him innocently. Putting her hands on his chest, she leaned in close. “Please forgive me…”. “Hmm”, Angel grunted. “Kiss it better”. Nina smiled sweetly, and began getting on her toes to meet his lips. “No…”. He looked down towards his groin, before meeting her eyes with a raised brow. Licking her lips, Nina nodded, and took a hold of his hips; lowering herself onto her knees.

Angel looked on – taking another sip of his beer – while she unbuckled his belt, and opened his pants. He was already half hard, when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pulled them down to expose his cock. She sighed in contentment, and made a languid stroke of her tongue up the side of his length. He let out a soft gasp, when she made the same movement on the other side; and she couldn’t help but giggle at the small jumps his cock made, as it hardened fully. She left a kitten lick on the tip, and smiled up at him.

Grabbing himself, and stroking his length; Angel chuckled down at her. “What?”, Nina asked. “Mami, you look so cute like this… I just wanna…”. He touched the head of his penis to her nose. “Boop”. Nina sat back on her heels, and looked at him with a guffawed expression. “Did you just… boop my nose with your dick?”, she asked. “Fuck yeah”, Angel grinned. “Now, open your mouth, or I’ll do it again”. “Angel, you…”, Nina began. “Nuh uh… try again”, he replied. She couldn’t help but smile. “Papi…”, she said. Angel nodded. “Good girl. Now say ah…”.

Nina opened her mouth, and let him enter it. She let out a moan around him, and took over stroking his length, while suckling at the head. She sucked him in as far as she could, and moved her tongue to massage him. Angel put a hand on her cheek, and took another sip of his beer. Moving her hands to his bottom, Nina began moving her head back and forth, while gently squeezing his cheeks. He was letting out soft groans now, and shifted his legs. The sounds of her slurping at him mixed with the sounds of a couple arguing on the tv. “No, Antonio. You know she’s just playing with your heart, man…”, Angel muttered. Nina pulled him out of her mouth. “Seriously?”, she said. Angel looked down at her and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry…”. “No, you’re not”, Nina said, and rolled her eyes, before getting back to work.

She added pressure with her tongue this time, and cupped his balls; massaging them gently. Angel gasped, and grabbed at her hair, moving her head back and forth. The sting from his grasp was strangely delicious, and sent pleasant signals to Nina’s core; making it difficult to sit still. She pressed her thighs together to get some kind of friction to help with the throbbing. Angel moved his hand to her chin, and made her pull back, and look up at him. “You want something, querida?”, he asked. She looked up at him with lips parted, and nodded. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want”.

She got on her feet slowly – her thighs burning slightly, from having been on her knees for so long – and pulled off her top. Turning around to walk towards the bedroom, she opened her bra and tossed it over the chair his cut was hanging on; and then opened her shorts, to step out of them. Once in the doorway, she pulled down her panties, and stood naked in front of him. “Food… I’m hungry”, she said. Angel laughed, and grabbed his phone to order takeout.

The – fresh – pizza arrived after round one; and Angel hardly took the time to put on his boxers, to go to the door to get it. After devouring more than half the pie – letting Nina enjoy a few slices herself – he devoured her for a good while; leaving her still short of breath, when he entered her again. Nina let herself be enveloped in the comfort of Angel’s presence, and in her quiet mind she thought that maybe spending a year in Santo Padre wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

The next morning, it rained for the first time since she’d arrived with the Mayans. The bikers were all miserable, unable to take their fancy road kings for their regular rides; but Nina felt the rainfall as a fresh start.

“What are you smiling about?”, Creeper said, as she was filling the fridges with drinks for the party that night. He was looking over some maps with Riz, by a table near the bar. The two of them were supposed to go for a short run over the border, but the rain had kept them stranded for now. “What’s not to smile about? The air is finally breathable around here, and there’s a party tonight”. Creeper chuckled, and shook his head. “Yeah, if anyone comes. It’s not riding weather”, he retorted. “You think a little rain will keep SAMCRO from riding down here?”, Nina scoffed. “You can’t keep them off the road”. Riz raised a brow at her. “Yeah, well Palo’s riding in as well… I don’t think the rain will stop him either”. She sighed. “Yeah. Thanks for that…”, she said.

Angel and Gilly came in to the clubhouse then, and Angel went behind the bar, to kiss her cheek. She smiled slightly at him, before looking at Riz and Creeper. “Whatever. I’m not going to let that shit ruin the fact that I’m seeing my family for the first time in weeks”, she declared. Angel gave her a short look, and went to sit by the counter with Gilly. “I thought we were your family”, Gilly said. “I’m not saying…”, Nina began. “Yeah; what are you saying?”, Angel said, his voice hard. Nina frowned, and was about to speak, when the door slammed open, and Coco came in with a grin plastered over his face. “It stopped raining!”, he proclaimed. “Thank fuck”, Creeper said. “Let’s get this shit done”.

Riz and Creeper went to leave the clubhouse. Nina walked over to Angel, and took his hand. “Are we ok?”, she asked quietly. He nodded dismissively. “Yeah, ma’. We’re good”, he replied, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I gotta go help Gilly with a haul that just came in the yard”. “Angel…”. He pecked her lips again. “We’re good, Nina. Go get shit ready for later…”. He squeezed her bottom, and went to do his job.

Trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach at Angel’s behavior, Nina went back to getting the bar ready for the party. While EZ and Chucky were lugging cases of potato-salad, tortillas, and other non-meat foods, she kept herself busy by putting pouring spouts on liquor bottles, and putting snacks in bowls. Coco was leaning against the bar, arguing with his daughter on the phone. “No… Because I said so, Letty”. He looked at the bowl Nina set down in front of him. “Hold up…”. He pulled the bowl towards him. “The fuck is this?”, he asked Nina. She looked down at the orange lumps of deliciousness. “Apricots…”. Coco frowned. “They’re not supposed to look like this”, he grunted. She popped an apricot into her mouth. “They’re dried”, she shrugged with a smile. “Like raisins? Ma’, that’s wrong. They look like shrunken dog’s testicles”. There was a long rant on the other end of the phone, and Coco went back to his conversation. “We got two clubs of dirty ass bikers coming in to this thing. I already fucked up one cabron for you this week. You’re not coming… Letty…? Leticia! Fuck. She hung up”. Nina handed him a cold beer to calm him down. “You trying to keep her out of trouble?”, she asked. “Always”, Coco muttered. Nina gave him a half smile. “Do you really wanna think about what she might get herself into tonight, if she’s not here, though? It’s the weekend…”. Coco looked ahead of himself for a short moment, before something resembling a shudder went through him, and he pulled out his phone again, and called up his kid. “You’re coming here tonight… No arguments, mija. And wear a turtleneck!”.

Gilly ducked in to the clubhouse. “Prospect. Meat incoming”. EZ quickly went for the door, to help his pap unload. Nina followed him outside, and saw Felipe arrive in a flatbed. Angel came out of the office, and went to greet his father. It was the first time Nina had seen the two men interact, and she lingered on the porch for a moment; looking down at the scene. Felipe pulled his eldest son in for a hug, and Angel kissed his father’s cheek. He’d been truthful in telling Nina that Felipe looked at him differently than he did Ezekiel; but she found him selling himself short in his father’s eyes. There was clear pride there; and so much love.

She went down to join them, and Angel went over to take her hand. He looked strangely nervous, when he led her over to Felipe. “Pap’, this is Nina. She’s…”. “We met”, Felipe said, and took Nina’s free hand; squeezing it. “Right…”, Angel said. “I forgot”. “It’s good to see you again, Nina”, Felipe said. “You too, Mr. Reyes”. “Please… Felipe”, he replied. “I brought that chorizo you liked yesterday”. “Thank you!”, Nina grinned. Angel looked between them; a slightly bewildered expression on his face. “Pap, where’s the ribs?”, EZ asked from behind the truck. “I’m coming”, Felipe said, and went to help his youngest son.

Angel put an arm around her shoulder, and looked down at her in wonder. “What?”, Nina chuckled. “He likes you…”, Angel said. She shrugged, and turned to put her arms around his waist. “I guess I have a way with the Reyes men”. Angel smiled softly, and gave her a soft kiss. “I have to go get ready”, she said, and went to get dressed for the party.

---

Zipping up the only dress she’d brought to Santo Padre, Nina gave herself a final once over in the small mirror of the trailer’s bathroom. Spending a little time alone, the fearful thoughts of what was actually going to happen that night, had come back. Palo would be there, with his men; and even the thought of having both Mayans and SAMCRO at her back, didn’t ease her mind. If by some chance Palo managed to figure out who she was, it would be literal war; and not only she, but every civilian attending – and there would be quite a few, she knew – would be caught smack in the middle of it. She was beginning to regret pushing Coco to let Letty come.

As she added a dash of lipstick, someone knocked on the trailer door. Bishop was standing outside when she opened. “Someone told me I’d better knock, before coming in”, he said, stifling a grin. “Yeah, me and Angel might have scarred Coco for life”, Nina replied, and moved for him to enter. “The guy fought the Taleban. He’s seen worse than Angel’s flat ass”, Bishop chuckled. He sat down by the table, and Nina sat down on the other side to face him. “How are you feeling?”, he asked earnestly. “Like I’m about to serve beer to a psychopath who wants me dead”, she replied. “Well, you are…”, Bishop said. She nodded, and looked down at the table. The .38 was lying there, next to her inhaler. Her hands were shaking, and her heart racing. “You need to keep your head down tonight. Act like any other girl here. Serve the drinks, smile…”. “And pretend I don’t notice any of the illegal shit going on”, Nina muttered. “Exactly”, Bishop said. “Once VM rolls in, don’t pay any special attention to SAMCRO. I know you’re close with them, but Palo doesn’t need to know you have connections up north. This is your home. Ok?”. “Ok”, Nina whispered. “Do I bring my gun?”. “Hangarounds don’t carry weapons. Leave it here”, Bishop said. She swallowed thickly; and Bishop reached over the table, and put a hand on her cheek. “We got you, mija”. There was a roar of engines sounding outside in the distance. “And you got your other family coming in as well”. They both got up to stand, and Nina took a deep breath. She fingered her inhaler absentmindedly. “Leave that too”, Bishop said. “No need to add to suspicion”.

There was a hard knock on the door. “Bish! Reaper incoming…”, Hank yelled from outside. Nina closed her eyes, and listened to the arriving bikes. She felt her lips turning into a large smile. “Better break out the Johnnie Walker”, Bishop said. Nina opened her eyes. “Jameson…”, she grinned.

---

The Mayans were all gathered in front of the clubhouse, standing ready to greet the incoming guests. Bishop went to stand in front of them, while Nina waited in the doorway of the trailer. Angel stood with his hands leaning against the railing of the porch, his expression somber.

The roars of five Harleys made its way up the drive. Nina knew the sound of every bike like the back of her hand, and a feeling of comfort and home washed over her, as she watched her family drive in. Filip pulled up, followed by Tig, Happy, Quinn and Ratboy. They all got off their bikes, and it was a struggle for her not to run at them right away; but she knew convention was that the two clubs greet first, and halted herself. Walking up to greet Bishop, Filip, shook his hand, and gave him a half hug. “Welcome”, the Mayan president said. “It’s hot as fuck out here. Did you have to scare away the rain?”, Filip replied. “We wanted Quinn to feel at home. Heard his old lady’s as dry as the Sonoran”, Taza said. “That’s my kids’ mom you’re talking about”, Quinn said, and hugged Taza. “Sorry”, the VP laughed. Quinn shrugged. “Nah, fuck that bitch. We split months ago”.

The two groups merged, and there was a murmur of greetings and pats on backs, before Filip looked at Bishop again. “Where are you keeping our girl?”, he said. Bishop nodded his head at Nina, who practically sprang to greet her brothers. She flung herself around the neck of Filip, and earned about a hundred kisses to her forehead. “I’m so happy you’re here!”, she smiled, and turned to hug Tig, who gave her even more kisses. “We missed you, sweetheart!”, he said. Happy picked her up from the ground, and squeezed her tight. “Are they treating you ok, little sister?”. “I’m good, Hap’”, she replied.

After having hugged Quinn and Rat, Filip once again wrapped her in his arms, and turned them, so his back was to the Mayans. “We need to talk, luv’”, he said. “You should not be here right now”. Nina sighed into the crook of his neck. She locked eyes with Angel, who looked about ready to throttle someone. “I can’t go… I made a deal with them”. “What kind of deal?”, Filip asked. “Look, if this is just about some dick…”. “It’s not… Not just…”. Filip made a displeased grunt, and turned to look at the other club; his arm still wrapped around her. “Which one is it then? His voice was kind of shrill over the phone; I couldn’t make out which one of the eight amigos it was”. She punched his shoulder. “Stop it, you bagpipe-wielding ass!”, she growled. “Ow!”, Filip said. “What have you been feeding her? Don’t tell me you let her cook!”.

“She can’t cook”, Angel said, having come down form the porch. “Thought you’d know that… being family and all”. It was like watching two roosters getting ready to get in to it, and Nina felt a sudden urge to pour a bucket of cold water over both men. “This is the one, then”, Filip said, and let go of Nina; to go face Angel. He got really close, starring the younger biker down; and being somewhat successful, in spite of being a few inches shorter. “Huh…”. With an overbearing look, he passed Angel; bumping his shoulder as he went to walk up the steps to the clubhouse. “Bishop, mind showing me the inside of your templo? We have some things to discuss”. Angel was about to follow him, when Nina grabbed his arm. Bishop came over and looked hard at him. “Cool it, Angel… I’m serious!”. Angel clenched his jaw and cursed below his breath; and Bishop followed Filip up the stairs, and into the clubhouse. The rest of the Mayans and SAMCRO-members went about their business of checking on the incoming bikes. As they all began comparing their phallic extensions, Nina pulled Angel out of earshot.

“Seriously, Angel? This is not the time to…”, she began. “He disrespected me…!”, Angel growled. “Oh come on…”, Nina hissed, trying to shush him. “Think about it. You’ve spent the last few weeks with your hands down his little sister’s panties. How is he supposed to react…? This is how it works. You know that better than me”. “I’m gonna…”, Angel began. “He’s a president of another MC. And he’s my…”. “Family… Yeah, you said”. He scoffed, and pulled his arm from her grasp, almost stomping away.

“Angel!”, Nina called after him. “Don’t walk away from me like that!”. He turned around, and looked at her with hard eyes. “Do you want to go back?”, he asked. “Are you going back with them?”. There was actual hurt in his voice. Nina went over to him, and shook her head fervently. “No! I made a promise to Bishop and the rest of you”. “Is that the only reason you’re staying, though?”. Angel’s expression was anguished. “’Cuz I’ll take you back right now, if that’s what will make you happy. We’ll just get on my bike, and drive north”. “What are you saying?”, Nina asked. A dull pain was forming in her chest, and Angel looked like he was feeling the same. “If you hadn’t made this deal with the club… Would you still want to stay?”. Nina took a moment to ponder her words. Angel looked more and more defeated by the second. “Yeah… Didn’t think so”. Anger bubbling inside her, she grabbed his arm again. “Don’t make me smack the shit out of you again!”, she said. “I want to stay here for you; you stupid dick! You’re the reason I haven’t run and hidden from Palo. Because I might not see you again…”. She gasped at her own words. She only just realized the truth of them as she spoke.

Behind them, the bikers were beginning to make their way into the clubhouse. EZ closed the door behind them, seemingly trying to give Nina and Angel some privacy. Angel looked dumbstruck. “For real?”, he asked. “Yes, for real…”, Nina said quietly. Relaxing his tense stance, Angel cupped her face. “I kept thinking you were just waiting to go home”. “Is this why you so weird after talking to Chibs over the phone?”, she asked. Angel nodded, but didn’t say anything. “If you had asked me a few days ago… Yes, I wanted to leave”, she said. “I didn’t think you and me… I wanted to go back to Charming. But now…”. She sighed, unable to finish the sentence. “Yeah?”, he asked. “Yeah…”, she said. “I’m here… And I want to be”.

Angel let out a deep breath, like all the troubles of the world had been on his shoulders, and he was finally at peace. “Come here”, he said, and put one arm around her back, while his other hand pulled her face in for a deep kiss. “I’m sorry, querida…”. Nina kissed him back, and smiled. “Look, when this impending nuclear detonation we’re calling a party is over, could you just take me back to your place; and we can… fuck it out?”, Nina asked, a crooked smile on her lips. Angel gave her an adoring look. “Oh, mami…”, he said, and pulled her impossibly closer. “You’re so fucking perfect. You sure, though?”. “Yeah…”, Nina said, and bit her lip. “Just remind me to bring my inhaler. Bishop made me leave it in the trailer”. Angel shook his head. “Nah. Pack all your shit. You ain’t spending another night in that piece of shit tin-can”.

Someone cleared their throat. EZ had come back outside. “That’s my piece of shit tin-can”, he said with a wry smile. “Bishop wants you inside”.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes smut #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #coco cruz #ez reyes #chibs telford #sons of anarchy

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queerprayers · 3 years

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hi there - I am also 19 years old and a christian. at present i am currently struggling with a certain aspect of my faith a bit. to make a long story short, im struggling with a few particular sins in my life, and i've been feeling particularly convicted about 2 Cor. 5:17 - "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation." i know that i have come to know Christ, and i know that i've grown in my faith in the five years since my coming to that point; but i can't help but feel like, at the same time, i am not a new creation, or that I'm not where I need to be.

i do know that his grace is there for us when we repent, and turn to him.. but i am afraid of presuming upon it. this was also kinda spurned on by reading the story of simon magus; he came to believe, but he still was deeply sinful and wasn't where he needed to be.

i suppose I'm having a hard time entrusting myself to God's grace and placing that faith in him.. I do wish to be intentional and not take it for granted. do you have any ideas or tips for something like this?

Hello! I relate so much! Here're some thoughts!

We are young. We don't have to be everything now. God willing, we have years and years ahead of us. There's a line from an Olivia Gatwood poem that I find myself coming back to: "I have so much beautiful time." (full poem—NSFW) (book) And we do! That's the first thing I want to highlight. I don't think any nineteen-year-old feels like they're where they're supposed to be— and if they do, they're probably wrong.

What really hit this home for me recently was Richard Rohr's book Falling Upward. While I wouldn't necessarily recommend it (my review), it was while reading this book that I fully realized how much more time and space I have to grow in my life. I explained in the review how, because I've struggled so much with suicidal ideation in the past, I often treated my spiritual growth as an ending, instead of a beginning, like a young person should. I have no idea if that's something you relate to, but I've noticed people often have this perspective, even if they've never gone through what I did. So, again: we have time.

I noticed that you mentioned how much you've grown, which is so great. If you're aware of how much you've grown in the past five years, think about how much you can grow in the next five years! And the five years after that! We don't stop growing once we become a legal adult, don't worry.

I've noticed many people (especially evangelical/"born-again"-type Christians) talk about conversion/following Jesus as a lightbulb moment—but it's not (or at least, isn't most of the time/in my experience). Sometimes you don't feel any different. So if you're looking for some magical moment where you'll realize you're a new creation and Christ is in you or whatever, I can't promise you'll find it. What faith/following Jesus is is a choice you make every day. Some days you might feel the Spirit or have a beautiful moment, and some days it'll feel repetitive and tiresome, and some days it'll just be.

This is definitely informed by my Lutheran background, but I would point out that all believers are saved and deeply sinful and not where we need to be. Same goes for all saints, all church fathers, all religious leaders. Simon Magus, the Pope, Mother Teresa, anyone. I would say that being saved and full of sin is an inherently human trait. I'm not saying give up or stop growing, just reminding us that no matter how much we grow and believe, we will still be human.

You bring up something interesting: the tension between accepting and living out God's promise/grace vs. taking it for granted. Even recognizing that and thinking about it is a wonderful sign that you care! If you didn't care, you wouldn't be thinking about this. While avoiding taking it for granted, at the same time I do think that God's grace is something we should presume on and depend on. It's there no matter what to fall back on, and knowing that and embracing that isn't ungrateful. I think there's a balance between these perspectives.

And yes yes yes on the being intentional about it bit! Faith routines/rituals can help us be more intentional— even a tiny thing like lighting a candle can ground us in the moment. Maybe you could keep a journal and write down ways you're following Jesus/growing every day/week/month. (Don't make this super complicated! "What's one way I'm going to be faithful this week?") Simply noticing what I'm doing/learning has been key for me—resisting the urge to mindlessly go through the motions. You could pick a different saint or Bible figure to learn about/think about each month, or pick a theme/goal (charity/mutual aid, reading the Bible every day, something like that) and focus on that for a bit. Don't fall into monotony or, as you put it, take it for granted.

We are a new creation in Christ every day! Let us go forward with all our beautiful time and grow in ways we couldn't even imagine five years ago! God be with you and bring you peace.

<3 Johanna

#ask #anonymous #answered this on mobile so hope the formatting/links work oops

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the-last-airbadger · 2 years

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My 2021

So, another year has passed… I could have sworn it was February yesterday. This year has gone by so fast! I’m not complaining though, I am actually excited to start a new year, maybe get a short two week break at the end of January, start a new reading challenge (and actually complete one again)... I’m even kind of looking forward to the new semester, even though I’m probably more excited about the prospect of finishing this one and not having to write essays for another couple months than I am about the actual semester. In any case, I’m not mad about this year ending, and I’m excited to write another yearly recap, so let’s get into it!

The Beginning of 2021 vs Now

Well, the beginning of this year, I have to admit, was not good. In February and March, and slightly seeping into April I perhaps had one of the worst mental health dips I’ve had in a long time. I really did not feel good, and there were moments where I felt like I just wasn’t myself anymore, and I wasn't really able to find joy in anything. Fortunately, I’m feeling much better now. I feel like I’ve learned a lot about myself this year, and in certain aspects I feel like I have grown, discovered, and changed a lot since the start of the year. I learned a lot about myself and what I want and need. What makes me happy. How I view the world. That kind of stuff. The biggest change I can think of that I want to share is the fact that I started the year thinking I was done transitioning, but as the year went on I realized I am not done yet. I realized I needed to take more steps to truly be comfortable in my body, one of those being bottom surgery, and I’ve started to take steps to get there. Though it will still take a very long time until I’ll be able to get another sugery, I’m still glad to have learned this about myself so I’m able to start moving towards those goals, no matter how long I'll have to wait.

The Best Things about 2021

It’s a little harder to think of highlights of the year – especially since I feel like not very much actually happened this year – but the first thing I can think of is just the summer holidays. I’d just finished my thesis – which was definitely a highlight, as my thesis has been continually haunting me during the first five months of the year – and I just spend three months in the summer playing a lot of games and winding down from the rather stressful first half of the year, which was nice. So I finished my thesis, played a lot of games, had a great time. Another highlight of the year is that I started playing D&D with a group of friends this year, and though we did not meet up very often, every time we did was absolutely amazing. This also made me think of the (unfortunately kind of rare) times I hung out with my other friends this year, and among those I think the highlights were eating korean fried chicken with my friends @asiandutchgirl and @the-official-pentacorn (it was so freaking good. Best chicken ever), and seeing my uni friends all again after I hadn’t seen them since the start of the pandemic, even though unfortunately I didn't see them very much at all. Another highlight is that I had some in-person classes again the second half of the year, and one of those classes was so much fun every week it really lifted my spirits. I also went swimming for the first time in like five and a half (!) years this year, and that was great. That also reminds me of the weekend I spend in Belgium with my family. There was an awesome pool there, and I loved going down all the slides for the first time in years, and I also watched the new Sex Education season that weekend which I was so hyped for and enjoyed so much!

Dan Howell’s book also came out this year, and I really enjoyed it. There was snow in February. That was nice. I also started driving to Rotterdam weekly (until COVID measures returned again) and really boosted my confidence in my driving skills doing that. Oh, and my siblings and I held a Marvel marathon over the summer in which we watched all films that were out at that point (23 movies over 5 days!) and it was so much fun. We ended the marathon by watching Black Widow, and going to the cinema again was so much fun as well. I’ve also seen Shang-Chi in the cinema twice (it was really good) and I've been to the Eternals too. I was going to see spider-man too, but unfortunately COVID measures interfered with my plans there, so I still haven’t seen that yet, but maybe next year!

My Resolutions for 2021?

This is the part where I realise I failed all my resolutions, lol. Let’s go check them out and see how I did!

I just came up with this today, but I think I want to try and build a bit of a skincare routine? The skin of my nose is kinda flakey, and I think it couldn’t hurt to try to take better care of my skin. – I kept this up for about a month, then quit. Too much effort for the minimal results I got. I mean I guess to get results I need to do it for longer than a month, but I do not have the energy for that

Keep up with my daily workouts. I want to work out every day, except when I’m at my dad’s or when it’s a special day, like Christmas or something – Yeah I gave up on workouts entirely… whoops.

Be able to do either 50 push-ups on my knees, 25 normal push-ups, or both – Again, I completely gave up on my workouts, so I don’t think I can do this at all. I don’t really mind that much though. It’s nice to be strong but I prefer spending time on things that are actually fun and make me happy.

GO SWIMMING – Finally did that!!! And it was great!! I’ve been wanting to do this for years so I’m so glad I finally did because it was amazing.

Keep up with planning daily! It’s a really good way to balance all of my 3195 hobbies and it helps me to not get stressed about school – Kind of? I haven’t always planned my days, and I definitely didn’t always manage to stick to it, but I didn’t abandon it either, and I definitely made sure I made a planning daily whenever I felt I didn’t have enough time for anything.

Write (almost) every day. I need to make it a habit – Didn’t do that either. I kind of lost enjoyment in it for a while because of my February dip, and I needed to take a break from it before I slowly started to do it and enjoy it again.

Draw at least once a week, every other day if possible – This goal is just too unrealistic with the amount of time I have and stuff I need to do in that time. Also, I did not keep a record of how often I've been drawing at all, but it was definitely not this much, so that’s a fail

Go outside at least once a week. That doesn’t seem very hard but with corona I did not realise how little I go outside if I am not forced to. Sometimes I spend 3 weeks without going out and I don’t even notice it. That can’t be good for me lol – This is another one that is hard to measure, but I’ll count this as a success because I really tried. I started going on walks in the first half of the year, and during the summer holidays I also am quite sure I left the house at least once a week, even if it was just for groceries. The last couple months of the year I had in-person classes again, and had to leave the house twice a week (which I greatly enjoyed), so that is good enough for me

Try to make healthier food choices. Maybe follow the lunch meal plan of the guy whose workout videos I follow – Gave up on this quite early on in the year. I figured out I care more about eating and enjoying good food than I care about eating healthy.

Get my bachelor’s degree – Did that! Very proud of myself for this one.

Grow a beard. I’m getting closer… I know I’m getting closer… - Success!! It’s still patchy and messy, but I think for the first time ever I can say it actually qualifies as a beard, and to be honest even though it doesn’t look that great it just makes me so much more confident. So I’m counting this as a big success

Meet with my frIENDS and give them the alBUMS I have for them – Did that! It was fun. I don’t even remember which albums I had for them but I am sure they loved finally getting them haha

Be more careful with my money, maybe even save a bit of money - … I may have made more terrible purchases this year than ever…

Spend less time on social media – You know, I am not sure if I actually succeeded, but I am definitely much more aware of the amount of time I spend on social media and try to spend my time in ways I enjoy much more, so I am still working on it at least!

Read more educational books – I read… 5 educational books this year, which is more than the one I read the year before, so I’m counting this as a win!

So that's 7 fails and 8 successes! I think I actually did quite okay!

Expectations for 2022

I don’t actually know if I have many expectations for next year… I know I’ll start a new semester in February, have a summer break in June, July and August, and then spend the last half of the year writing my Master’s thesis and (hopefully) finishing it, thereby finishing my master and my studies. Am I scared to be done studying? Definitely. But that does not mean that I am not also excited at the prospect of being done with my final thesis and never having to write another essay again in my life. I also hope I’ll actually be able to have a Christmas break next year, as I haven’t really been able to do that since 2016 :’). I've always had either work, tests, or deadlines, so hopefully after my thesis I'll catch a little break.

I don’t know if I have many other expectations for the next year… I know a lot of cool marvel movies will be released next year, which I am excited for, and I’ll also be able to take some steps towards bottom surgery and hopefully at least get on the waiting list for a hysterectomy. Other than that, I don’t think I have many expectations? It’s probably just going to be an average year, but who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to make it extraordinary!

2022 Resolutions

Now for my resolutions for 2022. My resolutions are going to be a bit different from last year’s, because then I seemed intent on being healthy and productive, but this year I mostly want to focus on having fun, and I think my resolutions will kind of reflect that.

Read 35 Books! I only read 18 this year and didn’t reach my Goodreads goal of 45 at all, but I am excited to start reading more again and I can’t wait to read some more books!

Read 5 Rick Riordan Presents books. I haven’t kept up with those releases at all but the two I read were really fun, so I want to read more of them!

Get to a point where I only have about 5 unread books lying around. Really, it’s kind of sad how I still haven’t read some books I got for my birthday like two years ago, so I really want to try to read books I already own before I buy new ones.

Finish 3 games! This was my brother’s suggestion, but it’s actually a good one, as I there are a couple of games I’ve started multiple times but have never actually finished, and I want to finish them at some point!

My brother wants me to finish Skyrim, so I think I’ll give that a go!

Stay up to date with Critical Role Campaign 3. I’m still all caught up and I want to keep it that way. This is the first campaign I am actually able to follow live and it’s so much fun, so I want to keep doing that!

Get to episode 50 of Critical Role Campaign 2. I love this campaign as well and I want to get at least a little further into it!

Finish/Catch up on Doctor Who! I never watched season 12 and 13, but with a new doctor and writer coming I want to be all caught up again. I’m in the middle of a rewatch right now and am currently in season 9, so I should be able to catch up!

Get on the waiting list for a hysterectomy.

Finish my master thesis and (as good as) finish my master’s degree.

And I think that’s it! I don’t have much to add, and this post is already long enough anyway, so I guess I’ll just end this by wishing you all a great year! Happy 2022!

Last Year's Post: (x)

#personal #my 2021 #annual reflection post

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nicketynic · 3 years

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Prompt: Jon Snow falls in love with Sansa Rivers, Brynden's bastard.

Catelyn Tully Stark had never forgotten the strange, painful parallel of watching her uncle walking through Riverrun’s gates, her lord father’s bones in tow, cradling a babe bearing his look, imagining it eerily similar to Eddard’s return to Winterfell, the return that brought his bastard son inside the walls of his ancestral seat before his trueborn heir had ever graced them.

Her feelings for Jon Snow aside, Sansa Rivers was her dear uncle’s only child, bastard-born or not, beloved enough to be brought with him to RIverrun as he took up regency for Edmure. Through letters, Catelyn watched her grow, transitioning from sweet, spirited girl to kind, dutiful young woman, thoughtful and grateful toward every bit of advice Catelyn offered.

By twelve, Sansa had stepped so naturally into the role of Riverrun’s surrogate lady, just as Cately had before her, and remained so at sixteen when Robb’s march south saw armies and lords aplenty descend on the castle. Then Ned was gone, and sweet Sansa was a steady source of comfort and support in a sea of grief and loss. How could she not love this wonderful, giving girl, everything she would have wanted in another daughter if the Mother had seen fit, for all she never regretted helping Ned secure his bloodline, for all that Arya was a willful, spirited, irreplaceable gift?

Ned was lost to her, and a solemn specter of his likeness stood stalwart at their son’s side. While loss and his unwavering loyalty toward Robb had eaten away at the bitterness toward the bastard, nothing could stop her hackles from rising the first time she saw Snow’s eyes land on Sansa, widening with surprise and interest. So intent was she on diverting that attention, she nearly missed when Sansa began to return his gazes, until she was as moon-eyed as the boy. It was only the march into the Westerlands that relieved Catelyn’s vexation with the whole affair, and as the war raged on and months became a year, then two, she became certain the infatuation had long passed.

Now, Jon Snow was a Stark-born bastard of a different variety, no longer a political unknown but the last scion of a dead dynasty, poised to have his pick between several noble seats. Some argued Dragonstone was his right so long as he let the name Targaryen die, Robb stood eager to see him landed and titled in the north, and Uncle Brynden himself had mused whether Harrenhal would be an acceptable compromise (granted to House Tully by way of Whent blood), if only to keep his daughter close by.

Catelyn was wrong that time and distance would kill the attraction between Snow and Rivers, for all that Sansa had never spoken of or inquired about him within her hearing. Sansa herself had presented her desire for Jon Snow’s hand in marriage, and Brynden was showing no signs of refusing. Feeling the weight of his niece’s gaze upon him, Brynden raised his head, bushy silver brows over Tully blue arching expectantly.

Catelyn hesitated for a moment, straightening subconsciously in her chair before she spoke. “Uncle, are you certain this is the decision you wish to make? The boy has prospects now, but the Targaryen legacy is liable to haunt him for the rest of his days. His children as well. Is it wise to subject Sansa to that?”

Brynden studied her for a long moment, deep wells of Tully blue full of something impossibly sad and wise. “Trust me when I say, little Cat, there can be no better judge of that girl’s happiness than Sansa herself. Her life’s already been hardship enough since the day I gave her the name ‘Rivers.’”

For the first time since his fateful decision, Brynden Tully was fully certain he had made the right choice when he plucked up a little red-haired waif from obscurity all those years ago, Tully auburn a beacon to draw his eye among a group of war orphans at Fairmarket’s motherhouse. All the evidence he needed was the soft, besotted look in Sansa’s eyes, the confidence in the way she spoke of Jon Snow’s love being true. That was all he could have possibly wished for the child who held his heart even if she wasn’t born of his body, much like the clever Cat sitting nearby.

Let it never be said that the Blackfish of Riverrun didn’t look after his own.

Contrary to their elders’ assumptions, Sansa Rivers and Jon Snow hadn’t been blinded from the hardships of their world by infatuation or innocence, and had long since forged their own path ahead together.

This day, Jon sat quietly in the shadow of several large old elms in Riverrun’s godswood. His eyes were closed, whether in prayer or sleep his audience was uncertain, only that he paid her approach no notice until he felt the light pressure of her hand on his shoulder, warm breath tickling against his skin with a whisper in his ear.

“Perhaps it is improper to interrupt a man in such serious contemplation, but the solemnity on your face should be far removed from the beauty of this day.”

He jumped at the initial touch, glowering. Sansa allowed herself a few giggles at his disgruntled expression, leaning against his shoulder and letting her lips tease against the sensitive place below his ear.

Jon looked at her sharply, and she responded with a soft reassurance and a firmer kiss to his neck. “I circled this clever spot you found from every direction I could conceive of, love. I only saw you since I knew where to look. We’re safe.”

Jon relaxed, turning in her arms to shift her closer, Sansa settling comfortably in his lap. She circled her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth to hers in a lingering, adoring kiss. She drew back at the need for air, giving him a cheeky smile. “Husband.”

“Wife.”

For weeks, Sansa had felt the weight of eyes on her. Over the years of men coming and going from Riverrun, she had become accustomed to the hard, lustful stares thrown her way, unabashed in their audacity given she was bastard-born with no noble title to protect her modesty. The only thing that kept their stares as only stares, their hands from never daring to pinch or grope, rip or bruise, was the power of her father and cousin’s affection for her. Nothing more, certainly not through any virtue of her own, as barbed, gossiping tongues saw fit to remind her every season she was forced to play host to the ladies and daughters of Cousin Edmure’s bannermen.

When she finally distracted herself enough for the chaos of preparing for war, she was shocked to discover the owner of these particular eyes. King Robb’s bastard half-brother, taciturn, solemn Jon Snow. A man who seemed too serious, too stoic, too devoted, for any woman to draw his eye away from his intense focus on duty. She puzzled over his interest, and several times she felt the burn of his gaze, she turned around to seek the source. More often than not, his expression was carefully composed into a sullen frown, and he was quick to turn away, but once or twice, she caught him unguarded.

His expression naked and open, wistful yearning laid bare for her to see, unique to the entitled vulgarity she’d reluctantly grown used to over time. His was a quiet longing, appreciative and warm every time his eyes landed on her. Still he wouldn’t approach, not even as she began to return lingering looks of her own, not even when her smiles grew soft and inviting. He never came.

So she went to him herself.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, my lord. Please tell me if my presence is unwelcome, and I’ll leave you be.”

“Your presence could never be unwelcome, my lady. And I know we’ve discussed that I’m no lord. Please, call me Jon.”

“Then you should remember I’m no lady, but I know from experience you’ll demure. So be it.” She smiled, slow and enigmatic. “Jon.” She drew his name out, testing out the sound, and Jon could have died from shame at the flash of heat it caused him.

“Jon,” the sound of her voice, soft, husky, and alluring, was intoxicating, his name slipping from her tongue sweet as honey. “Jon, I’ve felt your eyes on me for weeks. Always watching me. Never approaching, Why? Am I wrong”

He couldn’t remember a time when his tongue had ever felt so thick and at a loss for words. “N-no, you’re not wrong.”

“Do you want me, Jon?”

She’d bewitched him, surely, how else could he justify actually giving voice to his next words? “Yes,” he choked out, voice hoarse. “Gods help me, do I ever.”

Her beautiful face hardened, something in her eyes growing cold. “So I’ve often seen, more through the years than I care to count. You’ve been kind, Jon. Courteous to a fault. Do you feel you have more a right to me because you haven’t resorted to slobbering and pawing?”

“No!” Jon went milk-pale, horrified at the very implication. “I would never dishonor you! I was never going to tell you, I swear it. Never belittle your worth with a delusion that I’d have any hope of your hand.”

“Hand?” In her confusion, something softened, peering at him with a puzzled, considering expression. “You mean to wed?”

Jon looked ill at the very idea of continuing to discuss his feelings, but he resolved to finish if only she could feel some measure of safety in his presence again. “A boy’s dream, my lady. I know that. I would never hurt you. Please believe me.”

“Oh, Jon.” She drew closer, and closer still, panic rising in him as he saw faint tears glistening in her eyes. “I do. I so wished I was right, that what I saw in you was true. You just proved that.”

Hands on his shoulders, lips a breath away from his, Jon trembled, fists clenched at his sides to keep from touching her. “I won’t dishonor you,” he ground out.

“Then wed me. But don’t leave me without knowing your love.”

“You can’t mean-”

“But i do. You return to war in a few days.”

“And you want to make yourself a landless bastard’s widow?”

“The hope is that I don’t become a widow at all. But where’s the stigma in being a bastard’s widow when I’m a bastard myself? I adore you for your honor, Jon Snow, but it’s not your honor I want to know before you ride into battle.”

“Gods help me. Gods help us both.”

It was the gods he prayed to save them that they wed themselves before later that night, kneeling before the sad-faced weirwood, then bedding down beneath its red-dripped branches.

He kissed his love with the virility of youth, with the guilty passion and love he’d been harboring. They separated only before the need for breath became too great. He exhaled softly, not daring to open his eyes as deft fingers threaded through his dark hair to pull him into another kiss. His arms tightening around her, his hands grew restless, aching to explore further. Desire raged through him in a sudden storm of longing, tantalizing him to the point of desperation.

He groaned, a low rumble resounding through his chest. At the sudden sound, they pulled away, each regarding the other with shy, darkened eyes.

It was Jon who broke through the tentative silence. “I cannot leave you with child, Sansa,” he whispered softly, touching his hand to her cheek.

She leaned into the touch, gently sighing at the contact. “There are ways around it, love, for all that I would love to have that piece of you with me.”

“I want that as well. Someday.”

“Then come back to me.”

Jon shifted closer, dipping his head to press his lips to her ear. “Always, so long as I am breathing.” He kissed her again, allowing his lips to linger for just a moment before descending in a trail of soft kisses down her jaw and neckline. Sansa responded with a breathless gasp, her hands working up into the folds of his tunic to meet bare skin. He groaned as she touched him, aiding her in allowing the garment to fall away from his shoulders. Drawing her into his embrace, her body molded into his as he pressed close. She gazed down at him, brushing heavy hair away from his eyes, tracing her fingers along the strong features of his face. The intensity of his dark gaze followed her every movement. “Love me, Jon. Please?”

He did not hesitate, his hands beginning to stroke and caress, his mouth seeking hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. Locked in a lover’s embrace, he pressed her back against the ground, the soft earth and the fragrant grasses of the garden floor cushioning their fall. Their world faded to the touch of mouth and skin, passion overwhelming every sense but that of each other.

Jon sighed contently as he gave into the moment. “I’ve missed you so very much.”

“I missed you as well. Thank you for keeping your promise.”

He kissed her softly, his eyes so warm and full her heart swelled with feeling. “I promised you always, as long as I breathe. I wasn’t certain you would still want this, knowing I’m not who you thought.”

“Nonsense. Jon Snow, Jon Waters, Jon Blackfyre, it doesn’t matter, as long as you remain Jon at your core. And Jon loves me still.”

“As long as I breathe,” he repeated softly, this time catching her mouth in a deep, soulful kiss. Sansa’s arms twined around his neck as she opened beautifully to his passion, his ardor, his devotion, fingers burying in his hair to drag him impossibly closer.

She pulled back just enough to speak, only a breath’s distance between their lips. “And if my kisses steal your breath away?”

“Then we’ll share it. We did promise to share this life together.”

“Then i can’t wait to share that journey with you.”

#jon x sansa #jonsa #asoiaf #my fic

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notnctu · 4 years

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to jisung, my family friend ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ park jisung x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff ♡ wc - 2.2k ♡ warnings - none ♡ synopsis - in which you guide a lost freshman to his lecture ♡ taglist - @colpen ; @cestmoncoeur ; @hyucksberry ; @lexiluness ; @lovelycharm05 ; @dearlyminhyung ; @classic-antifood ; @pikijaemin ; @whorefortaeyong ; @jaeismytamtation ♡ a/n - let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jisung,

I’m already laughing at myself writing this letter, but it has to be done. You’ve grown up so well, I think it has to be a good four years since I’ve seen you in person. I can’t tell whether or not you're a stranger to me.

Our moms are literal best friends and I think we could’ve formed the same relationship if they didn’t try to force that on us. I’m reminiscing about our many play dates we had together as I write this.

We were such awkward kids, I mean, you still kind of are. Word of advice as your upperclassman, don’t wear your freshman lanyard. It’s too much of a tell that you’re a freshie, not that you don’t already look like one being lost on campus or clumsiness bumping into people on your way to class.

Jisung, I can’t help but look at you differently. When did your shy smile light up the room? You really grew into your features, because I don’t remember you having such a sharp jawline. I questioned my thoughts for you as we laughed together even after all these years. Your personality was still the same, maybe more mature now? Like someone hurt you in the past. Like your eyes grew sadder.

But honestly, you’re the most innocence I’ve experienced being in college. You showed me a type of love that could develop beyond a kiss or devious acts. I thought I’d never come across that again.

It was like an epiphany, like my cheeks felt warm whenever you acknowledged me. Your silliness never sold itself short, I could laugh for hours with you. There were no consequential thoughts between the two of us, like a refreshing love that is so pure and full of warmth from sunshine.

There’s a lot for you to learn and experience. I won’t rob that from you, given that I’ve experienced plenty after all these years. But there is such a compelling feeling within me to shield you from any negativity, to guide you in being the best version of yourself. I want to help you find yourself and maybe, grow with you since we have been absent of that during our teenage years. Maybe this is what should’ve been of our relationship a while ago.

If I had tried to notice you sooner, we could’ve saved each other from all the pain.

-from your mom’s favorite, y/n

“Honey, do you remember Jisung? You two were best friends when you were younger?” The phone call with your mom had droned on for more than you had anticipated. It was one of her I need a favor calls that could not wait until later.

The loud chatter and background music of the store caused your lack of attention to what she had been going on about. “You mean, your best friend’s son who you tried to force me to be best friends with when I was younger? What about him? I haven’t seen him for almost four years now.”

The phone receiver buzzed before she continued hesitantly, “I gave him your number.”

The box of pasta fell from your hands at her sudden statement. The strangers around you watched as your anxious hands recovered it from the ground. “Why?” The annoyance in your cadence was nothing surprising.

“He got accepted to your college, sweetie! Isn’t that great? You can guide him around campus, help him transition to college life. No one is forcing you two to be friends anymore. But it would be an amazing favor for me and your auntie. You know, she has been saying how she wants to pitch in to buy you a new car.” Coercion. Rolling your eyes, you aggressively packed your groceries in your reusable bag.

“How could I ever say no to her when I’m her favorite person?” It was a double edge sword with your mom. She never really gave you many options to work with and expected you to follow through as her very obedient daughter.

“That’s what I like to hear!” After the strenuous call, messages from an unknown number sat patiently in your inbox.

(127)-127-1271: hi (Y/N)!! idk if you remember me, we haven’t talked in awhile but it’s jisung! I’m going to be attending ur school in fall and I was wondering if you can help me with some housing stuff????

you: hey bud, congrats! Yeah, you can ask me anything you need to know, everything is very confusing when you first start out :)

The least you could do was act friendly. Jisung never did anything wrong and if anything, you two were oftentimes in the same awkward boat during your childhoods.

Talking to him again reminded you of all the holiday barbecues spent at his house and running away from the adults to play games with his cousins. The many sleepovers where his mom made him sacrifice his bed for you and he’d end up sleeping on their blow up mattress. Fond memories that were definitely lost in your present. You no longer remember how this boy even looked like.

Summer slipped from your fingers faster than you could blink. Another school year of newer experiences, yet without the aid of being a lost freshman. Everything fell back into a schedule as classes began. The floods of college students rushing to their next lecture. Students working in study rooms or at the outside commodities. The lost freshmen with their dangling lanyards who walk too slow and bumped into people.

There was one tall, shy boy that caught your eye. He wandered outside the building, checking the lecture hall number and scanning the enormous facility. The sheer panic in his expression when he looked down at his phone in his iron grip.

His features were clearly recognizable, but Jisung had grown incredibly older. His jawline was wider and he had several inches stacked above you. As you approached him, his infamous pout appeared as he rapidly scrolled on his dark screen. His cheeks weren’t entirely slimmed out.

“Jisung?”

Jisung was quick to see who could have possibly known his name at this new institution. He tilted his head when he finally laid his tired eyes on you. He knew there was no way he could have recognized you on his own. Not that you were absolutely different, but the whole aura that surrounded you embodied a college upperclassman. You were no longer the loud, weird middle school girl who wore her hair in wacky ponytails.

“(Y/N)! Wow, it’s been so long. I almost didn’t know who you were.” The deepness of his voice took you aback. His hand retreated to the back of his neck out of shyness. His high cheekbones marveled in the autumn afternoon. The boyish charm was very prominent, but his eyes seemed a bit lifeless, a bit sad. There was no gleam, loss of fairy dust that glimmered.

“I can recognize a lost freshman anywhere. Let me walk you to class.” You offered and his cheeks turned slightly pink from embarrassment.

A small side smile appeared when Jisung handed you his phone to see what building he was struggling to find. “I was trying to not be obvious, but the campus is so big. I really haven’t gotten used to where my classes are.”

A laugh escaped your lips when you gave the boy his phone. His wide eyes grew concerned, afraid you were mocking him. “It’s already the third week and I never noticed you were in my class. Let’s go, I’ll finally have someone to sit with.”

A sense of relief washed over his entire body as he followed your lead. The curious boy remained astonished as you two walked side by side on the large campus. He was barely taking in the massive structures, long roads, and the volume of people. His whole face lit up, with tiny sound effects whenever he was amazed by something.

“How could you ever get used to a place like this? I feel like there is so much to explore.” Jisung tried his best to match your strides to avoid losing you in the stream of hurried students.

“Yeah, it loses its luster after a few months.” Looking up, you noted the drop in his smile. Guilt filled your system at lowering his spirits. “But with the right experiences, you’ll fall in love with it more.”

Just like that, his rectangular smile rested well on his small face. “Thanks for answering all my texts over the summer.” His eyes averted to the ground as he held his backpack straps.

“I’m happy to help. C’mon, Jisung. We go way back, you’ve helped me escape many horrible adult encounters during your mom’s get togethers. The least I could do is return the favor.”

“Oh, we’re bringing up the past? Are you still afraid of the dark?” He raised a snarky eyebrow and you were surprised at the random attack.

You scoffed dramatically, and pretended to seem offended. “Says the one who had the night light in his room growing up.”

His hearty laugh surrounded the air around you two and you giggled lightly at how cutely he reacted. As his melody came to a descend, he analyzed your facial expression before saying, “talking to you is so natural, like we didn’t have a long pause on our barely developing friendship. I’ve been waiting to encounter a conversation like this since I got here.”

A strange, inexplicable feeling burned across your chest. Were those the butterflies that you felt so often around a boy you found the slightest potential? Long stares at Jisung’s profile had you admiring his strikingly handsome features. You shook off the unusual thought, “what about your roommate? You two haven’t hit it off yet?”

Jisung shrugged and looked around as if expecting his roommate to be wandering around him. He relaxed and stood by your side to wait for the lecture doors to open with leaving students. “Not exactly. Chenle’s a bit loud, a little weird too. He sleeps on silk pillows with his initials embroidered on them and has fancy cutlery.”

Laughter and more laughter filled the gaps with Jisung. It was the most refreshing feeling to be around, something you never knew you missed. Everyone was too busy being adults or experiencing wild, mature adventures. There was no room for innocence or child’s play. For a brief moment, you forgot about the stress of your future and wanted to bathe in the smiles that Jisung provided.

After the long boring lecture and a whole hour of Jisung performing pen tricks, he practically begged you to walk him to his next class. Given that your schedule was a bit more free today, with the spin of your heels, you were off giving him random tips about surviving his first year.

“Make sure you avoid walking to class through the center of campus on Wednesdays, unless you want to be harassed by clubs.” You cringed remembering the fateful encounter with your orientation leader from your first year, Jeno, that happened not too long ago. And how he still managed to flyer you after catching up.

Jisung did nothing, but nod aggressively to your advice to mentally note them all. He was overwhelmed, in a good way. However, knowing that he had you by his side, it made him feel all the more better. The realization that you two could actually be friends hit him like bricks. He wanted you to be guiding him, teaching him, bettering him.

“Hey homie!” A familiar, taunting voice called after you. You both perked up and watched as your best friend, Jungwoo, danced his way over to you.

You chuckled at your silly friend, “when did you ever call me homie?”

“When I noticed you standing next to a new friend and I don’t want to be too mean by calling you a loser.” Jungwoo’s happy smile bloomed as he stuck his hand out for Jisung to shake. “I’m Jungwoo, 2nd year Chemical Engineering major.”

Jisung stared at his hand, unsure how to even begin at introducing himself to other people. His only instinct was to throw scissors to Jungwoo’s extended palm, like he was playing a game of rock, paper, scissors. Jungwoo erupted with giggles and jumped at his hand being sandwiched between Jisung’s fingers. You, also, laughed at the awkward boy’s action.

“I like him.” Jungwoo patted Jisung’s stiff shoulder, causing Jisung to smile at his statement. “First year?”

“What gave it away?” You asked, eyeing Jisung with a matter of fact attitude.

“The lanyard dangling from his back pocket.” Jungwoo crossed his arms and joined you at your side. Jisung quickly stuffed the rest of his exposed lanyard into his pocket to refrain from being a first year stereotype.

The lecture doors opened with a bustling blast of people pouring out. You gave Jisung a warm touch on his arm, which he blushed unknowingly at. “Welcome to college, Jisung. We’re hanging out tomorrow because I said so.”

It was almost difficult for Jisung to stop smiling around you. He nodded and waved goodbye to both you and Jungwoo. A small thanks was all you heard before he disappeared inside.

Sighing, you and Jungwoo began heading towards any source of food. “Jisung, first year and undeclared major. He’s a family friend of mine.”

“He’s cute. You two look great together.” He winked. You pushed at Jungwoo’s arm playfully to rid any romantic thoughts. Though, it would be an absolute lie you weren’t already having some of your own. Maybe not entirely romantic, but more in a sense that you endearingly cared for him more than you had anticipated.

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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moving on? hah!

The assumption seems to be that ENPs “move on” quickly from people. This is not the case for me, although my being a 6w7 makes me want to skip as much of the pain as possible and immediately find new friends… but that isn’t how it works, in reality. This year I’ve been dealing with three things in particular, lower Si nostalgia, higher Ne “romanticizing” of the past, and 2 fix “but now there’s a hole in my heart…” thinking.

I had a friend for over fifteen years. She was a 9 and prone to the “disappearing act.” Even though I did not understand it (until it was too late), I put up with it for almost the entirety of our knowing each other. This vanishing act brought out my 2ishness in that I would, after a period of not hearing from her, become more ‘seeking’ in trying to coax her out into the open. It got to feel, after awhile, like I was begging for attention and offering to host everything fun (doing all the work of staying connected), just to get a weekend of her time. And then we would connect, have fun, and she would leave… and the cycle would start all over again. Even before the pandemic started, we were having problems – our interests were no longer the same, we had grown apart, and our visits with each other had periods of long silences and awkwardness. Objectively, there was nothing tethering us together except “but we’ve always been friends.” But the pandemic finished us off. I didn’t hear from her for four months, in which I both wanted to keep her spirits up, and have her do the same for me, and when I did finally hear from her in an overly-gushy e-mail (because I had stopped commenting on her blog in a “one way” response system and she noticed and got anxious about me being “mad” so plied me with attention in her own low 2 fixed way)… things came to a head and we went our separate ways. But that was never “that.”

Ne/Si has a way, even without being 4 fixed, of forgetting about the reasons you left someone behind and fixating on the good times, or specific incidents that made you happy. It’s the myopic viewpoint tinged with romanticism and sadness that lacks a stronger Si’s sense of “everything” that went on between two people. And then there’s the high Ne desire to move on, but the inability to do so due to this… floating “but what if we could have changed it?” mult-faceted idealistic way of thinking. There so many ways it could have gone better… Yes, but we did not fix it. We tried. Endless times. We had the “let’s really stay in touch” chat. It never worked.

So for the last few months, since we parted, she has been often on my mind, just as she was for over a decade, only now it’s not my “job” to care for her. It’s my “job” to, whenever I start feeling nostalgic and thinking only about the good times, to remind myself that yes, we had fun watching Dracula and going to Comic Con, but let’s also think about all the frustrations, disappointments, misunderstandings, and “bad times,” too, and not just focus on the good ones. One needs to remember the pain and not just the happiness. Too much water under the bridge had passed and too much growth apart had come between us, and our friendship boat was held together with duct tape and me “trying too hard.” Still, the default mindset is “but what if…”

Then there is the 2ish side of things. When I adopt people, I naturally ease into a comforter role. This can mean people wind up telling me too much intimate information, because I’m a tolerant and supportive, reassuring listener, and I genuinely do care about their emotional well being. This girl is a 972 in need of constant stimulation and fun things to look forward to… and the pandemic has stripped all that away from her and taken everything she used to love about the holidays. All the events, the high teas, the special dinners, the Christmas mixers, and replaced it with social distancing. My 2 is still connected to her, in I find it easy to imagine and feel her frustration, disappointment, and depression over this. I occasionally run across her on social media and because she is a Fe, she is talking about that very thing. My instinct is still to console her. But it’s not my job to lift her spirits and encourage her anymore. The impulse is still there, held in check only by “… but we are no longer friends.” And it’s hard to fight the 2w1 tendency to self-lecture and say, “It’s not about me or my feelings, it’s about her needs.” This is the 2’s core/fix’s struggle: to let go of people, and let others, closer friends, better friends, “take care of them.”

This is why I thought I was 4 fixed for a long time. I have the “… but when they are gone, I long for them to return, and if they return, I no longer want them” trait. If we became friends again, we would fall into the exact same pattern of behavior that did not work for us last time, and I would quickly become frustrated and resentful. I’m always looking for a deeper, more romantic connection, not the hard, boring slog of a relationship. But the difference is, I’ll do it. I am thinking of what you need more than admitting that my needs are valid, too.

The 269 is the most forgiving tritype and… that is true for me. A few weeks apart and all my anger and active frustration in being “stuck” in a relationship that isn’t fulfilling to me dissipates and leaves me wondering if I could have somehow made it work. If I made the wrong choice, even if all the evidence says the opposite. If “we” deserved another chance. It’s a constant battle to remind myself of all the facts or even to remember them (ah, the bane of being a Ne-dom).

There really is no point to this other than to illustrate how hard it can be for an inferior Si to let go and move on and stop thinking about the past and only remembering the good times. That’s why so many ENFPs – with their endless optimism – “get stuck.”

#mod post #friendship #enneagram #enneagram 2 #enfp #269

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

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Never have regrets; Joe Mazzello x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well here I have another Secret Santa gift. As a part of the Get Down Give Joy giveaway I would like to present @stewielover95 with your fic. Yes dear I am your secret Santa. I really hope you like this fic in the end, I struggled with it at first but then I finally had a good direction to go with it. Anyways I also want to thank @warriorteam1924 and @thosequeenboys for creating this splendid give away, after the LONG AND HELLISH year that 2020 has given us, it was very sweet of them to create this little give away to brighten up our holiday spirit (esp. since we can’t really see our families this year. Even if you can, PLEASE BE SAFE!!!). Now I’ll stop typing so that you all can start reading, hope everyone enjoys this lovely little fic with our beloved dino boy Joey Mazzello :)

Warnings: Joe’s chaotic child behavior (MAY CAUSE CAVITIES), fluff, parental angst, parent death, mentions of suicide, a small very subtle HINT of COVID (word isn’t mentioned but still think I should give warning),

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

___________________________________________________________

I was peacefully sleeping. After working long hours at my job I wanted nothing more than to just stay in bed all day and sleep until lunchtime.

“Hey baby~” Joey’s voice cooed in my ear. I felt him kiss my cheek and I let out a tired groan. “Good morning.”

“Joey!” I whined. “Go back to sleep.”

“No. The sun’s awake, so I’m awake. Which means we have to snuggle and make out.” I cracked an eye open and looked up at him. His auburn hair all messed up from his constant tossing and turning that he does in his sleep.

“We’ll make out when the rooster crows.”

“But babe there aren’t any roosters in New York.”

“Exactly.” He faux a gasp as he collapsed back on the bed.

“How could you? And I thought you loved me?! I knew it. You’re only in it for the money! Or the childhood fame crush! Or was it for Ben? It was for Ben wasn’t it! I knew you two were having an affair behind my back!” god he was such a drama queen. But he was my drama queen.

“Yes we’ve been sneaking in text messages behind your back.” I teased him.

“Okay that’s it!” I then felt him wriggle himself under the covers and I felt myself go from my stomach to my back in a split second.

“Joseph Francis Mazzello III! What the f—NO AHHH NO DOHOHOHN’T! DON’T TICKLE ME!!” I thrashed around trying to get him off of me but he had me pinned right down to the bed.

“You gonna get up now?” I heard him say from under the covers.

“JOHOHOHOE!!!” I screamed out in laughter. “Plehehehehease!”

“No not until you either say you’re gonna wake up. Or until I hear an apology.” Then I heard the dreaded sound and feeling of his deadly raspberries being blown on my stomach, just an inch over my bellybutton. And it was even worse now that he was growing out his beard.

“Okay! OK! OK! OK! OKAY STOP! I surrender! I surrender!” his head soon peaked out from the covers as his face was just a few inches away from mine. His shit-eating grin spread across his face, while his eyes twinkled with that same mischievous spark that made me fall in love with him. “I hate you.” I whined.

“Aww and I hate you too.” He moved closer to my lips and kissed me. “I hate you—so much.” His voice lowered down as he deepened the kiss. I felt his hands cup the sides of my face while my arms wrapped around him.

My right-hand stroking through his already messy hair while my left wrapped around his back. After what felt like an eternal make out session, we finally separated from each other and stared at one another.

“Alright you have my attention Joey.”

“Yay!” he cheered softly. “But in all seriousness, we need to get up. We promised my mom that we’d help with the Christmas decorations.”

“Okay. Now get off me yah goober so that we can help her.” He got off of me and I sat up but I was quickly pulled back onto the bed, laying against Joe’s chest. Him grinning smugly at me as he kissed me on the lips.

“Sorry, had to get my morning kiss from you.”

“And the morning make out session wasn’t enough for you?”

“Morning make outs and morning kisses are two completely different things.” He told me in that philosophical tone of his. You know the one you use to make yourself sound smarter.

“Ahh I see. Well thank you Professor Mazzello on explaining the differences between the two.”

“That’s Dr. Mazzello to you. But you are most welcome. Anything for my best student.” I pecked his nose and got back up but found myself being pulled back again towards Joe.

“Joey!”

“Sorry, sorry I couldn’t resist. Okay for real this time, go on. I’m right behind you.”

“Why don’t you go first and I’ll be right behind you?” I suggested. He sighed and pulled the covers off of us and went to sit up but this time I grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the bed. I pecked his lips before taking off out of the room.

We both raced down the stairs and towards the living room when I felt Joey catch me in his arms, pick me up and spin me around. Laughing manically while he did it. I myself couldn’t help but giggle when a female voice said.

“Ah-uh Joseph! No horse playing in the house.”

“Sorry mom.” He said as he sat me down.

“Sorry about that mama.” I said.

You see, Joe and I had been dating for practically ten years. We actually met through our good friend Rami way back when we were all on the Pacific. I was part of the costume department, and I was Rami’s assistant costumer. So whenever he got into Snafu’s character of course he tried to flirt with me and I’d play along off of his character telling him he didn’t have a chance.

Between takes the three of us became thick as thieves and kept in contact. Then one day when we were all on break, Rami set Joe and I up to meet at the beach so that the two of us could talk to each other. At the time of filming, Joe and I had been really shy around each other and we both liked each other (of course neither of us had the guts to say it to the other).

But after spending our break at the beach together that’s when Joe made the first I love you confession and—the rest is history as they say. When the three of us reunited for Bohemian Rhapsody and got to know Ben, Lucy, Allen, and Gwilym, our little family had now grown bigger. And it was after filming a concert scene in Japan (with some help from the actual Queen band themselves) that Joe (yes still dressed as early 70’s John Deacon) proposed to me.

So for 2 years he and I had been married. Of course like all couples we have our fights and disagreements but in the end we patch through them and not let it run our lives. Oh and I almost forgot, since I had been so close with the Mazzello family throughout our entire relationship, I had the privilege to call Joe’s parents, my parents even before we got married.

“I swear you both remind me of—” that’s when mom trailed off sadly as she looked down. Joe and I grew sad too as we thought about his dad.

“We miss him too mom. God I—I can’t believe this will be our 3rd Christmas without him.” Joe said as he walked towards his mom and gave him a hug.

“As much as I wish he could be here with us, he wouldn’t want us to be sad on his favorite holiday.” She told us. She took a deep breath in and cleaned her eyes of her hidden tears. “There now, I’ve got breakfast all ready for you two. Once you’re done, Joseph, I want you to bring in the Christmas boxes from the garage and set them in the living room. (Y/n), you and I will get the Christmas decorations from the attic.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am!” We both saluted. We went to the kitchen and ate our breakfast. After that we went to our stations and helped Mama Mazzello with the Christmas decorating.

It took almost all day but we came to a pretty good stopping place today decorating wise. We put up some of the minor Christmas displays up all over the house (like small animal plushies, Christmas pictures of the Mazzello family throughout the years, etc.) Joe managed to get all the outdoor decorations set up and displayed, and mama and I set up the Christmas placemats on the tables.

It was now a bit past 5pm and it was pitch black outside. Joey and I were cuddled together on the sofa and I looked out the window and shook my head.

“I still can’t get over the fact that it gets dark at freakin 4o’clock now.”

“I know it’s crazy. My mom’s never liked it, have yah mom?”

“Oh it messes up my schedule everytime!” Mom cried out from the kitchen as she was prepping dinner. “Hey (Y/n) are your mom and Derek still coming to the party?”

“Yeah. They said they’d be taking the train from Virginia instead of the plane. I think they said they’d be coming up sometime next Wednesday. I’ll call them later tonight to confirm that.”

“Alright well I’ll get the guest room set up for them.”

“You know you don’t need to do that.”

“Nonsense you guys are family. And it’ll be a lot safer here at the house than taking a hotel room with everything that’s going on.” She said.

“Yeah that is true. Thanks mama.”

“Okay well come and make a plate you two, dinner’s ready.” We stood up and got our dinner (steak and potatoes) and ate at the dinner table while playing on Freeform’s 25 days of Christmas was the Santa Clause.

Weeks later and it was the day before the Mazzello Christmas party and arriving in less than an hour was my mom and Derek. If your curious as to why I call my dad Derek, well he’s not really my dad. He’s my stepdad but I really do care for him.

He and my mom met up shortly after I graduated from high school after my parents divorced. My real dad and I…well—we don’t talk at all. Our relationship is very strained so why don’t we just leave it at that? But when my mom met Derek, he’s been the father I wished I had.

He’s loving, supportive, kind, funny, and he’s always there whenever my mom or I needed him. He was there for me when Joe and I were going through a bad patch in our relationship, he was there for all my birthdays and movie premieres, and he was even the one to walk me down the aisle at mine and Joe’s wedding.

I was doing the last final touches of cleaning up the house for my mom and Derek’s arrival, as well as Joe’s siblings, nieces, and nephews. I heard the door open and a stampede of footsteps soon came running towards me.

“Auntie (Y/n)! Auntie (Y/n)!” I was soon glomped by 4 little nuggets.

“Hey there kiddies. Oh I’ve missed you four soo much! How have you all been?”

“I lost another tooth see?” Joe’s niece Samantha said opening her mouth to show me her missing tooth.

“I learned how to ride my bike!” his nephew Matthew aka Matty exclaimed.

“Oh big boy now huh? Bet you were better than your uncle Joey was.”

“I heard that!” Joe called out. He along with this brother and sister came through the living room and I hugged my brother and sister in laws.

“Hey guys Merry Christmas.” I greeted them.

“Merry Christmas (Y/n).” his sister Mary said as she and I hugged each other first.

“Even though Christmas isn’t until tomorrow.” His brother John said.

“Okay Scrooge. Get over here John.” He gave me a kiss to my cheek and the two of us embraced each other. “Joe’s told me about your little league’s championship win. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah those kids did me proud.”

“You know if you could convince Joe and (Y/n) to hurry up with getting kids of their own, they might give you some new champions.” A female voice soon spoke up. Soon coming around the corner of the house along with Mama was my own mom as well as Derek.

“Mom!” I whined.

“Now, now (m/n) don’t go pressuring her just yet. There’s still plenty of time for her and Joe to have kids. Say when their 50.” I chuckled and shook my head at Derek’s statement. I walked up to them and first hugged my mom.

“Did you guys have a safe train ride?” I asked.

“It went well. Much less crowded than I expected.”

“That’s cause you’ve always done the Metro mom. Metro and train are two totally different things.” I told her. I turned to Derek and he said with a smile as he extended his arms out.

“Come here baby girl.” I smiled and went into his arms and the two of us hugged each other. “Don’t just wait till the holidays to come see us. How will your mother and I survive?”

“I’m sorry Derek, work’s just been crazy lately. Directors have been wanting me to do costume designing and fittings for them left and right.” I said as we released each other from the hug.

“And why wouldn’t they? You’re incredibly talented.” Joe said as he came up and quickly pecked my cheek.

“He’s right. I remember you staying up way past your curfew designing costumes for your tech theatre class back in high school.” Derek continued. “And all those times of drawing on napkins and the corners of the morning paper. I swear you doodled sketches like it was no one’s business.”

“You stayed up pass curfew?” my mother snapped.

“Thanks a lot Derek.” I muttered angrily.

“Hey had to come out sometime right?” I playfully nudged him and said to my mom.

“That’s in the past mom. No need to talk about it now.”

“Oh you can be sure we’ll discuss that later little missy.” She lectured as she waved her finger at me.

“Alright, now the rooms have all been prepared for you all in advance. Mary, John you’ll take your old rooms. (M/n) and Derek the guest room has been made up for you all and of course the kids get the cloud bedroom.” The kids all cheered. “Now everyone drop your bags off in your designated rooms and we can all gather around the table for some dinner.”

I helped mom with her bags and guided her and Derek to the guest room while Joe went to help his mom set up the table for dinner.

“So when can we expect future grandbabies from you and Joe (n/n)?” my mom asked.

“If you keep pestering me about that then you won’t have any grandbabies.” I teased her as we came to the room. “Here we are, I cleaned it up myself. Hope you guys will be comfortable.”

“It’s great (y/n). Thank you.” Derek assured me.

“Tell Virginia we’ll be down in a moment once we’re finished unpacking.” My mom said. I nodded then left the two of them to unpack their stuff.

As I came down the stairs, I already saw Joe being attacked by all his nieces and nephews. The kids were climbing all over him like a tree, all of them talking over the other and squealing like little piglets.

God seeing Joe with those kids it—really did make me want to have kids with him. He’s already a fun uncle, I’m positive he’d make a great dad. Probably spoil our kids to no end but—he could be the discipliner if he needed to.

“Ow! Who’s on the head?!” Joe exclaimed. I shook my head at his nephew Matty who had half of his body on top of Joe’s head.

“Alright you kids break it up.” I told the kids as I grabbed Matty and held him in my arms.

“Auntie (Y/n), will you sing for us tomorrow at the party like you did last year?” He asked me.

“You bet she’ll sing for you kids. And hey how about we do one better. How would you kids like it if your auntie (Y/n) and I performed together?” Joe asked joyously. But the kids all let out a groan.

“No uncle Joey you can’t sing!” complained Sammy.

“Excuse me?!” Joe gawked offensively.

“Yeah uncle Joey, you don’t have that good of a singing voice.” Matty agreed.

“And too loud sometimes.” His other niece Katie or as I like to call her Kitty-cat said.

“My own kin turned against me. That’s it you three are in BIG trouble. C’mere!” he went to grab his nieces who quickly ran off his lap and hid behind me.

“Save us auntie (Y/n)!” the girls chorused out. I shielded the three of them and stood before Joe as his face got right up close to mine.

“You know we could team up and catch them together.”

“I don’t betray kids Joe.”

“So—they’ve turned you too. Fine. I’ll take you down first.” Suddenly he picked me up over his shoulder and proceeded to spin me around and around like a helicopter.

“JOEY!!” I exclaimed through my laughter.

“Then surrender the kids to me or the spinning continues.” He threatened.

“Well then this game’s gonna have to be put on hold cause it’s time for dinner.” Joe’s mom spoke up. The kids all raced to the dinner table while Joe put me back down. I stumbled a little but he caught me and asked.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live. Just next time don’t spin me around so fast.” I kissed the corner of his lips before heading towards the sinner table with Joe right behind me. Soon enough we all gathered around and had ourselves a pre-Christmas family dinner.

Soon it finally arrived. The most wonderful time of the year, Christmas eve. All the gifts were now placed under the tree wrapped up in various Christmas themed wrappings or color schemes of silver, red, gold, and green. Now it was really beginning to look like Christmas.

“Alright guys, as per tradition we shall start off with (Y/n);s annual Christmas performance.” Mama Mazzello said. I stood up from Joe’s lap as everyone applauded.

Derek at the speakers ready for my signal for him to turn the first song on. I nodded and he clicked the play button and soon my first song (in fact the very first song I ever sang back when I was a teen for my family) Faith Hill’s “Where are you Christmas”.

It’s also my mom’s favorite song and every year since I sang it back when it came out in 2000 she’s wanted me to sing it just for her. As I sang I could see the tears forming in my mom’s eyes as a wide smile spread across her face and she lip synched the words. The kids all stared at me in awe, and my beloved Joe Mazzello he was entranced.

He’s always teased me of how I should be a singer instead of a costume designer and back when we were both involved with Bohemian Rhapsody he’s sworn that he’d get me up on stage with Queen and Adam Lambert to sing with them. Thankfully that hasn’t happened (and I hope it continues that way) so Joe’s just had be do private concerts for him.

After the song was done they all clapped as I told Derek my next song and helped him search the right version of the song.

“This one right here?” he asked to confirm.

“Yep that’s the one.” I told him. I turned back towards the family and now playing on the speakers was Carrie Underwood’s “Do you hear what I hear?” I fingered the piano chords against my thigh, pretending that I was actually playing the keys (even though I can’t play to save my ass, even with Rami’s help).

That song required a lot of breath work and correct timing but I managed to pull it off and once the song concluded everyone clapped again. This time for the final song, I took out two chairs and set them before everyone.

Joe took this as his cue to come up and help me set up the finale song, especially since he was going to be joining me on it this year. We had been practicing this since November, he wrote the script and everything and we rehearsed it and rehearsed it and rehearsed it.

“For this final song I first want to thank my director and partner Joe Mazzello for writing the script for this little skit you will see.” Joe nodded as he came in with two cups of hot chocolate (his being made of almond milk of course). The two of us sat side by side and Joe clapped his hands together and said.

“And…..action!” I took a sip of my hot chocolate and said my first line.

“I still can’t believe you can finally drink hot chocolate.”

“Hey almond milk saves lives.” He said his line.

“Personally, I’d never drink that stuff but so long as it helps you. I’m glad I could share this tradition with you.”

“Me too babe.” My phone then dinged and I said.

“Oh my god!”

“What? What is it babe?”

“It’s already pass midnight. My mother’s gonna kill me!”

“Whoa, whoa wait a minute. Don’t tell me you’re going out there!” he said as we both stood up and he gestured toward the window.

“I have to Joey. Even if it’s 20ft of snow out there, it’s nothing compared to the wrath of a mother who doesn’t like their baby staying out past curfew.” I broke the 4th wall and turned to my mom who crossed her arms and looked at me with a playful scowl.

“C’mon just give her a call and explain it to her. It’s way too cold out there for you. I won’t let you freeze out there.” Derek then turned on the song “Baby it’s cold outside” the Seth McFarlane and Sara Bareilles version.

The two of us walking in circles of each other with me trying to head out of the living room and Joe coming around in front of me singing Seth’s part while I sang Sara’s.

Every now and then he’d take my hands in his and giving them a kiss. Or he’d brush a strand of hair out from my face, gingerly brushing my cheek with the back of his finger. But just as we got to the end of the first verse, there was a knock at the door.

Joe and I stopped singing as Derek cut off the music and we all turned our attention to the door.

“Mom is—anyone else coming?” asked Mary.

“No.” she simply stated. Four more knocks rang through the house. The kids were started to get frightened as they ran up to their parents.

“I’ll find out who it is.” Said Mary’s husband Dylan.

“No, no, no. You just stay with your kids Dylan. I’ll go see who it is.” Derek offered as he left the living room. After about a minute my mom followed behind him and the next thing I heard was my mom saying.

“What are you doing here!?” it—it couldn’t be. I raced out of the living room as Joe tried to reach out for me and stop me but he was too late. I came around and walked down the small hallway staircase that led to the front door and there at the door was someone I hoped I’d never see again.

For there standing at the door in his famed fedora hat was my dad.

He looked older than the last time I saw him, his hair going grey from the stress and wrinkles forming at the end of his eyes.

“I know I don’t have a right to be here, but……”

“That’s right you don’t!” I snapped. My mom and Derek looked up at me.

“(Y/n) go back upstairs. Derek and I can handle this.” My mom told me.

“(Y/n)?” my dad asked in awe. I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. “Wow look—look at you. You’re……practically grown up.”

“Yeah.” I snapped shortly. “You’d know if you’d pay attention instead of just criticizing me all the time.”

“I know. I……that’s actually why I came here.”

“How did you even know we’d be here (F/n)?” my mom asked.

“Well as part of the NYPD I’ve been—keeping tabs on our daughter. And found out who she married and where she was currently living at.”

“You’ve been spying on me!? Great even when you’re no longer apart of this family you still have to spy on everything I do!” I snapped. “So have you come to complain about my husband now? How I should’ve married a doctor or a cop? How I’ve thrown my life away by marrying an actor?”

“No.” he said. “I haven’t come to do anything like that. I just…..”

“No you know what? Let me start off since you never listened to me then, but you’ll hear me now!”

I walked down the steps and even though my mother tried to get me to go back upstairs, I got out of her arms and got right in my dad’s face and sneered at him.

“For years I’ve tried to be the perfect daughter you said you wanted! And for my childhood I tried to follow in your footsteps. But as I became a preteen you began to nitpick at everything! The color of my hair, what type of clothes I should wear, how I should wear my makeup, you even didn’t like the fact that I wanted to get my ears pierced! Said it was for criminals and goth kids to get their bodies pierced. You called me a delinquent!”

“I-I-I know I did. But now I’m……”

“It doesn’t matter what you have or want to say. The verbal abuse you gave me throughout my life has been nothing but a stab at my self-esteem. I tried to commit suicide by the time I was 16 because of you! You did that!”

“I’m sorry (Y/n).”

“Where was the sorry back then? Where was it? All you told me after I got back from the hospital was that it was my fault for disobeying you.” I once again got in his face and sneered lowly, “So whatever you have to say forget it.”

I turned around and walked up the steps. As I got halfway up my dad tried to say to me.

“(Y/n) please. I’m trying to make amends for that now. I know I’ve done and said awful things to you in the past. And looking back on it, it’s made me feel absolutely disgusted with myself. I’m your father, please forgive me. It’s Christmas time.” I lowered my head before turning my head towards him.

“Derek’s my father. Now get the fuck out of my life.” I said lowly to him while I glared at him. I ran back up the stairs and headed right towards Joe’s room. I slammed the door and hid myself in the corner of his room, curled myself up into a tight ball, and tried to keep my tears at bay but every now and then a tear fell from the corner of my eye.

I heard the door open and softly shut. The bed softly dipped down; and the familiar smell of Joe’s cologne hung in the air.

“Please Joe I—I’m not in the mood.”

“I know. That’s not why I came up here though.” I felt him rub my back in soothing circles. “Baby girl, I—I think you should really talk to your dad.” I raised my head up at him, my jaw dropped in shock and my eyes bug-eyed.

“You can’t be serious.”

“C’mon babe it’s Christmas…..”

“So?! I already spoke my mind to him!”

“No. You ranted in anger. You’re not supposed to be angry or any other negative emotion during Christmas.”

“Joe you—” I took a sharp breath in. “I’ve told you what he’s done to me. The neglect and verbal abuse he gave me. How am I supposed to suddenly let it go and forgive him!?”

“I know it’s not easy…..”

“I don’t believe this….you’re actually taking his side!!” I snapped as I backed away from him.

“I’m not! All I’m saying that is if you continue to hate him for the rest of your life, you’ll never be truly happy. Babe please I’m just thinking about what’s best for you.”

Oh my god—it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t…….

“You called him.”

“What? No!?”

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, not-it-it-it all makes sense. How else could he pick up this address? That whole detective bullshit you reached out to him and called him up didn’t you!?”

“(Y/n) I—”

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!!” I screamed at him. Silence rang out through Joe’s childhood room as he and I stared eye to eye with each other. Not a single one of us flinching or breaking eye contact.

“Even if it was me, as I told you I was only trying to help.”

“How!?” I snapped. “Be thankful your dad died a good man!” At the mention of his dad, Joe’s face grew hard and angry.

“I know. I was lucky. My dad was a kind man, and generous and forgiving. But get this (Y/n), I won’t get to experience that type of father love ever again! And I would give anything to have him back here! To have gotten to know you as my wife instead of my girlfriend! To one day see our children! So be thankful that your father is still alive and healthy!” his voice quivered and choked as his voice got steadily louder.

“Joe, I—”

“All I wanted was for you to make amends with your dad because you never know which day will be your last!” he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Goddamnit! Now I feel like shit. I sighed heavily and fell down onto the bed and felt the tears stream down my face.

After calming myself down and cleaning myself up, I walked downstairs and there was my mom, Derek, Joe’s mom, and siblings. The kids weren’t there so I assume Mary and John sent them to bed after what had happened.

“If you’re wondering where Joe is he left. Didn’t say where he went he just—took his coat, hat and scarf and just left.” John said.

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” I walked over to my mom and said. “Where’s (f/n)?”

“What?”

“Please mom I—just tell me where he went.” I said urgently.

“He told me he was staying at the Milton motel just 15min. away from here.” I raced and grabbed my winter gear and keys. My mom calling out to me but I didn’t hear her as I got on my bike and took off down the streets.

When I arrived at the Milton, I went up to the front desk and asked to see a (F/n) (l/n), I told the concierge that I was someone close to him. She called him up and told me he’d be down in a minute.

I sat down in the lobby and waited for him to come down. I heard the elevator ding and soon coming out of it was (F/n). He turned to his left and when he saw me, his eyes widened.

“(Y/n)?” I stood up. He slowly walked towards me. “But I thought—”

“First I want to say this before I say something else. You suddenly showing up the way you did was uncalled for. You can’t expect an apology after the years of neglect and verbal abuse you gave me. Even from the smallest little thing about me that I wanted to change, you insulted me to no ends.” I took a deep breath. “And as much as I want to never want anything to do with you again—someone once told me that if I continue to hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll never be truly happy.”

“I’ve looked back on my actions and every day I hate myself for what I’ve done to you. So—will you give me another chance?”

“I won’t forgive you right away and start calling you dad.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Thank you (Y/n).” he extended his hand out for me to take. For the first time in years I took my dad’s hand and we shook on it. “Do you want to spend Christmas day with us tomorrow?”

“I’d like that very much. Plus I’d—I’d like to get to know the man that stole your heart.” My eyes widened.

“Joe! Shit I almost forgot! Ohh but where could he be? He could be anywhere!”

“Just a minute (Y/n), let me make a call.” He took out his phone and made a call. “Hey Jeremy, it’s me. Yeah hey listen I know it’s the holidays but I need your tracking skills.” I saw him nod and hum in agreement, “Okay just a second,” he placed the phone down against his shoulder and asked me, “Do you have his number?”

I told him Joe’s number and he relayed that to his friend. Wow I guess he really is a police officer.

“Really? Great. Thanks Jeremy. Yes you have a Merry Christmas too. See you after the New Year. Bye.” He hung up his phone and said. “His cell was last pinged at the Rockefeller Center.” I thanked him and raced out of the motel and back to my bike. I revved it up and raced on down to Rockefeller Center.

The monument around Christmas time. I stood before the giant, beautiful tree and raced towards it on foot. I looked around for Joe till I finally found him on the other side of the two angel statues playing their horns.

“Joe!?” he turned around and looked at me before glaring softly and turned back around. I raced towards him but he still refused to look at me. “Joey……I—I talked to him. My dad. And—it’s gonna take some time but I…..I told him I’d give him another chance.” He didn’t respond back, hell he still didn’t even look at me. “I was way out of line. I shouldn’t have accused you like that. I mean, even if you did call him I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was angry and—those feelings that my dad gave me when I was a kid I’ve tried to bury them for years. And seeing him for the first time in forever it—made me feel like that extremely insecure girl I once was. And I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Again, he remained silent and stoic.

“And I shouldn’t have mentioned your dad. He wouldn’t have wanted us to fight, especially on his favorite holiday. I’m sorry Joe.” Nothing. Not even a smug Deacy grin. “Joey?” why wasn’t he answering me?

I slowly approached him and everytime I tried to lean forward to look at him, he just turned his head further away from me.

“Joe please? What more do you want me to say? You were right and I was wrong? That Ben should really be with you instead of Gwil? What can I say that will help you say something to me?” he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed at me.

I sighed sadly and looked up at him. Okay, I get it. Guess he’s really upset with me and I could possibly expect him to go stay with Rami and Lucy for the next month or so.

“Alright. I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I deserve it. I was a real bitch to you. But I just want you to know that I’ll always love you, and that I hope you find the right girl for you. Even if it’s not me.” I turned and walked away from him when I suddenly felt two arms wrap around my waist and pull me up against a comfy coated chest.

“And just what makes you think that I would want anyone else?”

“What?” he gave me a cheeky grin. “Oh you son of a—” I proceeded to hit him in his chest screaming profanities at him. All the while he kept laughing and holding my arms back. He then proceeded to peck all over my face with kisses.

Soon my anger turned to laughter as I calmed down and surrendered to his kisses.

“You’re a real jerk sometimes you know that.”

“But you married me in the end right?” I nodded as he once again wrapped his arms around me. “So you really talked to your dad? Not just yelled at him.”

“Yes. I—even invited him for Christmas lunch tomorrow.”

“Well look at you making progress!” he exclaimed proudly before taking off my beanie and ruffled my hair. I exclaimed and tried to shoo his hand away from my head. He chuckled then readjusted my hair to some level of normalcy. “In all seriousness babe, I’m glad you took my advice.”

“Yeah. I mean like you said, I’ll never truly be happy till I let go of my anger. And I haven’t realized til now just how much that anger has been weighing me down.”

“I could see it every time your dad was even mentioned. I hate seeing you be that angry.” he embraced me from behind, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“I’m—also sorry about….you know what I said about your dad.” He placed my head over his chest.

“I forgive you. We were both angry and said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But I shouldn’t have spoken ill about your dad. He really was a sweet guy.”

“That he was.” He smiled the smile he inherited from both his parents.

“Like father like son.” I giggled. He chuckled and took my hand then as we walked back to my bike, we both looked up and saw that snow was starting to fall.

“Well, looks like we’re getting a White Christmas after all.” He said.

“Indeed, just prepare for the avalanche of feet from the munchkin army come morning.”

“Don’t I know it. But you’re also forgetting one other kid.” He looked at me confused. “You yah big man child!”

“Hey you’re just as crazy about snow as I am!” we then proceeded to nag at each other over who was a bigger fan of the snow, even going as far as to see who would crack first tomorrow morning once we’d see the snow on the ground.

#getdowngivejoy #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fanfiction #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello imagines #joe mazzello fluff #secret santa #christmas fic #getdowngivejoy event #bohemian rhapsody #the pacific #wooly boys #jurassic park #the social network #joe mazzello oneshot #undrafted #joe mazzello undrafted

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tinycrow · 3 years

Text

Mama Fortuna

C-05: Trouble in Paradise

Note: This chapter just didn’t want to be written for some reason.

~*~

Though things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, they now had allies, resources, and a base of operations. The soldiers had honoured them with their bravery during the Mission City fiasco, and after the Decepticons were forced to retreat, Optimus Prime discussed with the appropriate human officials the importance of defence against the new threat.

Mission City remained a reminder to both humans and Autobots as to how important it was to unite against the Decepticon threat. NEST was born, and a new base was chosen.

Megatron’s body was buried in the ocean. The remaining shard was put under human protections after intense debate. It wasn’t ideal, but in the end, there wasn’t a better suggestion.

Guardians were chosen for the select humans that they had grown close to. Ironhide had gone with Major Lennox, and Bumblebee requested to stay with Sam Witwicky.

While Cybertronian life was a secret from most humans, there was hope that Earth could become a second home.

~*~

Oh my god.

I kneel next to the woman and put my index and ring finger to her throat to check for her pulse. Finding it, I then put my ear near her mouth to listen for breathing. She’s not breathing. I need to call for help.

What’s stopping me? I glance at the huge and lifeless metal body of an alien nearby. Being in a less populated part of town, there are no other witnesses, as far as I know. However, this woman needs help, and I cannot call for an ambulance or the police. It would call all sorts of attention, and none of it good.

There’s gotta be something I can do. I hover my shaking hands over the woman’s body. She’s organic. There is no way this is going to work. But I’m going to try anyway.

A quick flash lights the walls of the nearby buildings. In that brief moment, I can feel this woman’s spirit, such a kind and generous spirit, as my power moves through her body to fix the damage to her lungs. She’s changing. There was no other way about it. I feel regret for what I have done, but I remind myself that I have limited options.

The woman takes a gasping breath but doesn’t open her eyes. In relief, I then turn to my next problem. The alien.

What in the world am I going to do with this?

Hands still shaking, a grim expression forms on my face as I consider my options. If I heal him, he will just come after me and my family. If I don’t, someone will eventually notice the body and a different kind of attention will come here. I could bury him, maybe. It might be hard, considering how big he is.

I stare at the conjured metal spike that is piercing their metal heart. The alien had somehow noticed the presence of my children, even though they were in their alternative forms. As the alien posing as a car transformed into a large mech, I could only stare in panic.

I hadn’t noticed the woman close by until an unholy shriek pierced my eardrums. She was grabbed, and I could only imagine that her ribs were broken when she suddenly passed out. I made my move out of desperation in that moment, and the nearby concrete gave way to a metal spike that luckily took the mech out. The alien would’ve never expected a human to be able to do that. I was lucky they underestimated me.

Swaying in exhaustion, I wonder if I have the strength to bury my aggressor. Emboldening myself with grim determination, I stomp the ground once. Then twice.

It takes a few tries, but the mech is completely buried. Sort of. A piece of them is showing, but I don’t have the strength to do anymore. As long as no one looks closely, I’m sure it’ll be okay.

~*~

“Novatron is offline. Their last location was a small town in North America.”

A low growl and a curse in a foreign language fills the otherwise silent space.

“And?”

“Their course was altered to avoid an asteroid in their path, and they landed far from where we are. Their last transmission reported a strange energy signature and the appearance of small Cybertronians of unknown affiliation.”

“So, there were Mini-bots. Why is this of concern to us?”

“Novatron was convinced they were not Mini-bots. They sent us a voice sample they overheard.” A 5-second sample was played.

“Sunshine, I know you’re excited, but you need to be quiet.”

Chitter. Beep. Chirr. Young, barely restrained excitement.

Many voices started talking as soon as the sample finished. They knew what those sounds meant, and if it was true, they hadn’t been heard in millennia.

“You, go investigate. If possible, bring back the sparklings. Do not let the Autobots find out what we are doing.”

~*~

“Hey, wake up. Wake up. Please open your eyes.” I gently shake the woman. I can’t carry a full-grown woman by myself, and dragging might hurt her. So, I am insistent on waking her from her place on the concrete.

A groan escapes her lips and her eyelids flutter open. She jerks awake and away from me.

Seeing her about to scream, I hold up a finger to my mouth. “Please don’t scream!”

She freezes, looking around frantically and then locking her eyes on mine. “What- Who are you? Where is that—that thing? “

“I’ll answer those questions in a bit, but first you need to know that you are safe. I killed the one that attacked you.”

It takes a second for my words to register. Her eyes narrow in suspicion and disbelief. I certainly don’t look like much, and I am seemingly unarmed.

I interrupt her thought before she can start, “Yeah, I know how I look. Kinda hard to believe. It wasn’t easy... look, I know you have questions, but if you really want answers, you’re going to have to trust me enough to go someplace safe to talk. Or, you can go back home and pretend this never happened. The choice is yours.”

“I don’t even know you, and you want me to come with you. Who are you?”

I sigh. “You can call me Ray. Do you want answers, or do you want to walk away?”

She considers my question, before hesitantly nodding and replying, “I need to know what just happened, and what that thing was. Please.”

Her look is so desperate that I feel a surge of compassion for this poor woman. Her world is about to be rocked to its foundation. I smile genuinely sympathetic at her and stand up. I offer my hand, and she takes it after only a second of pause.

“I found this great restaurant in town. How about we get to know each other on our way there?”

~*~

A couple weeks later...

“Linda! Linda!”

Said woman sets down her shopping bags in time to be jumped by metal children. Seeing this happen from my station near the stove, I call out with a stern voice, “Sunshine! Ellie! What have I said about jumping on humans?”

“-not to,” the two say simultaneously.

“Get down.”

Without much of a fuss, they obey. It hasn’t been the first time I’ve had to remind them.

Linda spares a lopsided smile for them as she turns to me to say, “Aw, it’s not so bad. It’s kind of cute... No need to be so serious, Ray.” She turns to her bags, waving the children away and rustling through them.

“It won’t be so cute when they get bigger.”

The woman looking through her shopping bags freezes for a second, and I side-eye her. She has been taking all of this remarkably well, but I know that she still has moments of terror when she remembers or dreams about the alien that she saw on the day we met.

“They have a couple ‘frames’ to go through before they reach their full size. Sunshine will be pretty small still, though Ellie may be the size of a human one day.”

No response from her. I continue speaking as if nothing is wrong, “They love you, you know.” They would never hurt you, I try to say between the lines. “I think knowing a human other than me is helping socialize them. I’ve seen them copying our mannerisms sometimes. It’s really cute.”

Some colour comes back into Linda’s cheeks. I smile encouragingly at her, and she gives a small smile back.

I joke, “So, what dost thou bring from yonder town?”

“I picked up that milk you texted me about. I bought some cereal—don’t look at me like that, you need to eat something in the morning. It’s the most important meal of the day!”

I restrain myself from whining and simply pout. My soup seems to be done heating and I lift it off the stove to pour into a bowl on the kitchen table. I look up to see Linda taking some metal scraps out of her bag.

“Woah, what’s that you got there?”

“Some junk we were going to throw away. I thought you’d appreciate it. Don’t let anyone know I gave it to you, though.”

“Is that all of it?”

“There’s more in my truck. I didn’t want to take too much or it would be suspicious.”

I whistle lowly. Just by this alone, I can tell that trusting this kind woman was a good call. I remember how scared she was when we talked in the restaurant, and how much I wanted to hide my babies from her. Fear has always been a motivator for terrible acts in human history... not that I remember where I’ve learnt that, considering my circumstance. It makes an interesting read now, however.

“How far along is the construction?” I ask her, taking a spoonful of soup and noisily slurping hot liquid.

We talk for a few minutes about her work in construction before we hit a lull in the conversation.

“Ray...” She says, catching my attention. I look at her inquiringly, but she doesn’t continue.

So, I prompt her, “Yes?”

“... I’ve been thinking.”

Now I’m wary. For the short time that I’ve known her, I’ve known she was kind and generous, but sometimes... there’s a flash of stubbornness, of determination to succeed in whatever she sets her mind to. I start having a feeling that whatever it is, I won’t be able to talk her out of it.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to start my own company. I just didn’t have the money or means to.”

My stomach churns with anxiety, and I get an inkling as to where this is going. The problem is, should I let it get there? We haven’t known each other for very long, despite how it feels like we’ve known each other for forever. After a tense moment, I make a decision. I would stand my ground, but I wouldn’t shoot her idea down until I hear her out.

“I see, and now?” I ask.

~*~

I’ve been getting random surges of anxiety when I’m out in town. I really can’t say where the feeling is stemming from, but considering the attack a couple weeks ago, I’m guessing it’s not good.

Both Linda and I decide it’s time to move, and boy is it an expensive one. I pay my renter for the current and next month I promised I’d be living in the farmhouse for, which would have brought my savings down if I didn’t sell the minerals I was creating in my spare time. With Linda’s guidance and help, we set up what would be the foundations of our ‘family company’, “Davis and Weber Co.”. Beside Linda and I, her brother and father are the only ones brought in on our secret. The humble farmhouse becomes a truck stop as, beside the Ford pickup Linda owns, both males bring a couple moving trucks to help me move my limited furniture, the ‘coffee machine’, and the materials I’ve been collecting with Linda’s help. The pickup trucks were one of the first purchases by the company.

I’m not sure what Linda told her boss, but she is free from her former job. She has been handling permits, selling, and purchases for our new company since then, though I know she had help from her father with that.

As for me, I’ve been getting better at creating small gadgets with aid from my powers and increasingly conscious knowledge, though nothing alive yet. A simple but secure communication device was one of the most recent, and we decided to test them on the road to the new warehouse we bought a few days’ journey from our current location. It looks like a standard earpiece with a mic, but has a barely noticeable black square—a fingerprint reader that works as a locking mechanism and an on-off button. The devices send data on an encrypted channel that is not usual for its kind. The hardest part was getting the fingerprint reader to work.

“Testing, one, two...”

“I hear you, James. Linda?”

“I hear you and dad. Oli?”

“Mama, Ellie is being mean,” we all hear on the com, and I resist the urge to face-palm.

“I’m here. I hear dad, sis, and Ray.”

“Mama! Sunshine hit me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

When I hear scuffling in one of the trucks, I walk up to it and move the mic away from my mouth as I bang the side of the truck. “Hey! Break it up! Don’t make me go in there!” The fighting stops, and I walk back to Linda’s pickup truck, moving the mic back to my mouth. “It’s a long ride, and I don’t want any unwanted attention on us, okay? There’s a lot of dangerous people out there.”

Everyone shifts uncomfortably at my statement. Linda’s brother and father both were told how Linda and I met, and it was accepted that aside from greedy humans wanting me and my babies for crazy new tech, hostile aliens might also.

“Sunshine, Ellie, do you understand?”

My voice isn’t loud, but they can tell I’m serious. I get a couple of quiet assents. I nod to myself and hop into the passenger side as Linda gets into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, let’s roll.”

~*~

We’re about a day into the journey when we see some suspicious activity around our small fleet of trucks. I turn around to look at the car tailing us, it’s an expensive car... and the only car for miles.

“It’s stalking us. It knows.”

“Just... keep cool,” I say lamely, even as I feel my body tense, “It could be coincidence that they’re on the road with us.”

“Guys, I see more super cars,” Oliver warns.

The car immediately tailing us changes into the oncoming lane and speeds up to just in front of us. It’s done so quickly that we don’t have much time to react. I barely have time to notice the car has no driver when it turns back into our lane, effectively blocking us in with the other car quickly coming up behind us.

“Linda, that’s—“ I start, but she cuts me off.

“—I know!”

The car in front of us stands up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that we were surrounded by empty farmland, we would’ve crashed trying to avoid it. Swears fill the com. I fear for my life as Linda’s truck swerves over a ditch and barbed fence, coasting into an empty field. The other two trucks stop hurriedly, Oliver’s truck barely slamming into the back of James’.

I jump out of Linda’s truck and sprint toward the truck with my babies.

“Everyone quiet on the com and if you can, run! Babies, stay there. Remember, it’s just like we practiced.”

Silence. I’m glad for it as I see the metal giant get a grip on the truck in front of them. I see the form of Linda’s dad (James) curling forward and down to avoid the shattering windshield glass. My legs and lungs burn as I try to get there as fast as I can. I can hear Linda’s voice behind me telling me to wait, but I simply cannot do that.

There are no pipes underground or metal around me to use, so I’m not sure what I can do to stop this one. If only I was stronger, more experienced... My eyes water as I reach desperately inward to that power that has been slowly growing. I reach my hand out to James’ truck. Please, save them.

A spark lights my fingers briefly, before an unseen wave of something knocks the air out of everyone. It even makes the giant stop. Then, they look at me.

Oh, shit. I dig my heels in and change direction. Linda shouts in alarm behind me and I grab her as I run back to her truck.

“Change of plan, Lin, we’re going to run.” I cup my hand around the mic and whisper harshly, “We’ll see if we can lead them away. Head to the warehouse.”

“What?” Linda asks fearfully, but I pat her shoulders and look her straight in the eye.

“No time for debate, Lin. Let’s go!”

#my fanfiction #mama fortuna #greyscales #transformers

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cecilspeaks · 4 years

Text

173 - The Hundred Year Play

Quoth the raven: [bird noises] Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, some exciting news from the world of theatre! The 100 year play is about to reach its final scene. Yes, this is the play that has been running continuously since 1920. Written by a brilliant playwright Hannah Hershman, designed to take exactly 100 years to perform. And the tireless volunteer of the Night Vale Players Playhouse have been going through those scenes, one after another, for decade upon decade. There’s little time to rehearse, for each hour brings new scenes and each scene will only be performed once the play moves on, in order to keep up with the tight schedule needed to execute the entire script before a century elapses.

It is a monumental work of theatre, but like all work, it must some day cease. Today, specifically. I will be in attendance at that historic moment, when the final scene is performed and the curtain closes on the 100 year play. More soon, but first the news.

We bring you the latest on the lawsuit “The estate of Franklin Chen vs. the city of Night Vale”. As you know, this case has grown so large and complicated that I’ve not had the time to discuss it in my usual community radio broadcasts. But instead, have started a true crime podcast called “Bloody Laws, Bloody Claws: The Murder of Frank Chen”, in which I strive to get to the truth of just what happened on that fateful night when five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels met Frank Chen, and then later Frank Chen’s body was found covered in burns and claw marks. It’s a confounding mystery. The Sheriff’s Secret Police announce that it seems really complicated and they’re not even gonna try to solve that sucker. “Oh, what?” a Secret Police spokesman muttered at an earthworm he found in his garden. “You want us to fail? You wanna see us fail? That’s why you want us to investigate this case, to see us fail at it?” The family of Frank Chen say they merely want the appropriate parties, in this case the city of Night Vale, Hiram McDaniels and an omniscient conception of God, to take responsibility for their part in this tragedy. The trial is now in its 10th month, and has included spirited re-enactments of the supposed murder by helpful Players Playhouse performers in between their work on the 100 year play. 3 changes of judge and venue due to “some dragon attacks and constant interruptions from a local audio journalist, who hosts a widely respected true crime podcast”. Still, with all this, we near a verdict. Judge Chaplin has indicated she will issue her ruling soon. “Like in the next year or so?” she said. “Certainly within 5 years. Listen, I don’t owe you a verdict, just because you’re paying me to do a job, you can’t rush me to do it. The verdict will be done when. It’s. Done.” Chaplin then huffed out of the courtroom followed by journalists shouting recommendations for episodes of their podcast to listen to.

I was present, you know, on opening night of the 100 year play. Ah, how the theatre buzzed! Of course this was partly the audience, thrilled to be at the start of such an unprecedented work, but mostly – it was the insects. The Night Vale Players Playhouse had quite a pest problem at the time, and still does. It’s difficult to do pest control when there is a 100 year long play being performed on stage at every hour of every day. The curtain opened those many years ago on a simple set of a studio apartment, a kitchen, a cot, a window overlooking a brick wall. A man sits in the corner deep in thought. A doorbell rings. “Come in, it’s open,” the man says. A woman enters, flustered. She is holding a newborn. “There’s been a murder!” she says. “The victim was alone in a room, and all the doors and windows were locked. “My god!” the man says and springs up. “Who could have done this, and how?!” the woman tells him: “It turns out to be the gardener, Mr. Spreckle. He served with the victim in the war and never could forgive him for what happened there. He threw a venomous snake through an air vent.” The man sits back down, nodding. “Aah! So the mystery is solved.” As a playwright, Hannah Hershman did not believe in stringing up mysteries a second longer than was necessary. The baby in the woman’s arm stirs. “Shush, shush little one!” the woman says. The man looks out the window where he cannot see the sky. “It might look like rain,” he says. “Who knows?” Thus began a journey of 100 years.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s episode is sponsored by the Night Vale Medical Board, which would like to remind you that it is important to drink enough water throughout the day. Drink more water! Your body cannot function without water. Without water, you are just dust made animate. Water forms the squelching mud of sentience. Try to have at least ten big glasses of water. Not over the entire day, right now. See if you can get all ten of them down. Explore the capacity of your stomach. See if you can make it burst. You will either feel so much better, or an organ will explode and you will day painfully. And either one is more interesting than the mundane now. You should drink even more water than that. Wander out of your door, search the Earth for liquids. Find a lake and drain the entire thing, until the bottom feeders flop helplessly on the flatlands. Laugh slushingly as you look upon the destruction you have wrought. The power that you possess now that you are well hydrated. Move on from the lake and come to the shore of an ocean. All oceans are one ocean that we have arbitrarily categorized by language. The sea knows no separation, and neither will you when you lay belly down on the sand, put your lips against the waves and guzzle the ocean. The ocean is salty. It will not be very hydrating, so you’ll need to drink a lot of it. Keep going until the tower tops of Atlantis see sky again for the first time in centuries, until the strange glowing creatures of the deep-deep are exposed, splayed out from their bodies now that they no longer have the immense pressure of the ocean depths to keep their structure intact. And once you have drunk the oceans, turn your eyes to the stars. For there is water out there too, and you must suck dry the universe. This has been a message from the Night Vale Medical Board.

20 years passed without me thinking about the 100 year play. You know how it is. One day you’re an intern at the local radio station doing all the normal errands like getting coffee and painting pentacles upon Station Management doors as part of the ritual of the slumbering ancients. Then 20 years passes and everything is different for you. Your boss is gone and now you are a host of the community radio station, and there are so many new responsibilities and worries and lucid nightmares in which you explore a broken landscape of colossal ruins. So with all of that, I just kind of forgot the 100 year play was happening. But they were toiling away in there, doing scenes around the clock, building and tearing down sets at a frantic pace, trying to keep up with the script that relentlessly went on, page after page. And sometimes one of the people working on the play would wonder: how does this all end? But before they could flip ahead and look, there would be another scene that had to be performed and they wouldn’t have a chance. So no one knew how it ended. No one except Hannah Hershman, the mysterious author of this centennial play.

Soon after becoming radio host, during the reading of a Community Calendar, I was reminded that the play was still going on, and so decided to check in. I put on my best tux, you know it’s the one with the scales and the confetti canon. And then took myself to a night at the theatre. I can’t say what happened in the plot since that first scene, but certainly much had transpired. We were now in a space colony thousands of years from now, and the set was simple, just some sleek chairs and a black backdrop dotted with white stars of paint. A woman was giving a monologue about the distance she felt between the planet she was born on, which I believe was supposed to be Earth, and the planet she now stood on. I understood from what she was saying that the trip she had taken to this planet was one way, and that she would never return to the place she was born. “We… are… all of us… moved… by time,” she whispered in a cracked, hoarse voice. “Not… one of us dies… in the world… we were born into.” Sitting in my seat in that darkened theatre, I knew two facts with certainty. The first was that this woman had been giving a monologue for several days now. She wavered on her feet, speaking the entire four hours that I was there. And I don’t know how much longer she spoke after I left, but it could have been weeks. She was pale and her voice was barely audible, but there was something transfixing about it, and the audience sat in perfect silence, leaning forward to hear her words. The other fact I understood was that this woman was the newborn from the very first scene. Not just the same character, but the same actor. 20 years later, she was still on that stage, still portraying the life to the child we had been introduced to in the opening lines. She was an extraordinary performer, presumably, having had a literal lifetime of practice. And that was the last time I saw the play, until tonight, when I will go to watch the final scene.

But first, let’s have a look at that Community Calendar. Tonight the school board is meeting to discuss the issues of school lunches. It seems that some in power argue that it isn’t enough that for some reason we charge the kids actual money for these lunches. They argue that the students should also be required to give devotion and worship to a great glowing cloud, whose benevolent power will fill their lives with purpose. Due to new privacy rules, we cannot say which member of the school board made this suggestion. The board will be taking public comment in a small flimsy wooden booth out by the highway. Just enter the damp, dark interior and whisper your comment, and it will be heard. Perhaps not by the school board, but certainly by something.

Tuesday morning, Lee Marvin will be offering free acting classes at the rec center. The class is entitled “Acting is just lying. We’ll teach you how acting is just saying things that aren’t true, with emotions you don’t feel, so that you may fool those watching with these mistruths.” Fortunately, Marvin commented: “Most people don’t want to be told the truth and prefer the quiet comfort of a lie well told.” Classes are pay what you want, starting at 10,000 dollars.

Thursday Josh Crayton will be taking the form of a waterfall in Grove Park, so that neighborhood kids may swim in him. There is not a lot of swimming opportunities in a town as dry as Night Vale, and so this is a generous move on Josh’s part. He has promised that he has been working on the form and has added a water slide and a sunbathing deck. He asks that everyone swim safely and please not leave any trash on him.

Friday, the corn field will appear in the middle of town, right where it does each September, as the air turns cooler and the sky in the west takes on a certain shade of green. The corn field emanates a power electric and awful. Please, do not go into the corn field, as we don’t know what lives in there or what it wants. The City Council would like to remind you that the corn field is perfectly safe. It is perfect and it is safe.

Finally, Saturday never happened. Not if you know what’s good for you. Got it? This has been the Community Calendar.

Oh! Look at the time. Here I am blathering on and the play is about to end. OK, let me grab my new mini recorder that Carlos got me for my birthday. It’s only 35 pounds and the antenna is a highly reasonable 7 feet. And I’ll see you all there.

Ah. What’s the weather like for my commute?

[Shallow Eyes” by Brad Bensko. https://www.bradbenskomusic.com/]

Carlos and I are at the theatre! The audience is a buzz, with excitement yes, but also many of them are the insects that infest this theatre. The bugs became entranced by the story over the years, passing down through brief generation after brief generation, the history of all that happened before. The story of the play became something of a religion to this creepy crawly civilization. And so now the bugs are jittering on the walls, thrilled to be the generation that gets to see the end of this great tale.

The curtain rises on a scene I recognize well. It is the simple set of a studio apartment. A kitchen, a cot, a window overlooking a brick wall. A man sits in the corner deep in thought. A doorbell rings. “Come on, it’s open,” the man calls. A woman enters. She is very old, tottering unsteadily on legs that have carried for her many many years. “Please take my seat,” the man says with genuine concern. “Thank you,” she says, collapsing with relief onto the cushions and then looking out, as if for the first time, noticing the audience. I know this woman. I first saw her as a baby and later as a 20-year-old. It seems she has lived her whole life on this stage, taking part in this play. “My name,” the woman says, “is Hannah Hershman. I was born in this theatre, clutching a script in my arms that was bigger than I was. My twin, in a way. I started acting in that script of mine before I was even aware of the world. I grew up in that script, lived my entire life in the play I had written from infancy to now.” And she rises, and the man reaches out to help, but she waves him away. She speaks, her- her voice is strong, ringing out through the theatre. “The play ends with my death, because the play is my life. It is bounded by the same hours and minutes that I am.” the audience is rapt, many have tears in their eyes. Even the insects weep. “Thank you for these hundred years,” Hannah Hershman says. “This script is complete.” She walks to the window. “It might look like rain,” she says. “Who knows?” The lights dim.

Thunderous applause, cries of acclaim, and Hannah Hershman dies to the best possible sound a person can hear: concrete evidence of the good they have done in the lives of other humans.

Stay tuned next for the second ever Night Vale Players Playhouse production, now that they finally finished this one. They’re going to do “Godspell”. And from the script of a life I have not yet finished performing, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Many are called, but few are chosen. And fewer still pick up. Because most calls are spam these days.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 173 #the hundred year play

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rosaetae · 4 years

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among the evergreen

☇ “The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do”

➣ pairing: reader x jungkook

➣ genre: christmas themed, modernfantasy!au, e2l!au, fluff

➣ word count: 12.6k

➣ disclaimer: this is literally an exaggerated satire of Hallmark Christmas movies filled with eggnog crack for the holiday spirit. please do not take this seriously. happy holidays!

➣ summary: the odd christmas wedding with the odd christmas runaway with the odd christmas adventure with the odd christmas stranger

"You can't be serious right now, ___."

"Hyunjung, I've never been more serious in my entire life." Grabbing a chunk of clothes from your closet that ranged from sweaters to leggings, you shove it into your duffel bag. "This version my parents made of me?— I'm not her. They seriously think they're going to discipline me by selling me off to a man I don't know?"

"Oh, don't be dramatic. They're not selling you off, they just arranged a marriage for you."

You open your mouth, gaping at her. "Even worst! Where's my consent? Where's my sense of individualism?! I'm an adult and yet, they're giving me away to a random person they arranged a marriage with just last year!"

"And may I remind you that you're getting married to that random person in two weeks, ___. Perfect for a Christmas wedding," Hyunjung optimistically exclaims over the FaceTime call, removing her towel that was wrapped around her head and combing her hair with her fingers. "I don't think you should be leaving."

You cringe at her romanticizing an arranged marriage that takes away your sense of freedom.

"No, Hyunjung," you point your lotion bottle in your hand at her. "The version that my parents fabricated of me— she. She's the one getting married in two weeks. I, however, am taking a trip to Europe."

"Europe?" She repeats, nearly gaping at the sound of that. "That's why you need me to drop you off at the airport? Europe? Are you joking me?"

You nearly snort, folding one of your t-shirts messily and tossing it into the duffel. "You thought I was joking when I took that trip to Greece by myself. Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Insane. You're absolutely insane."

"I hope you say that in a good way," you throw a wink at her.

"You cannot be serious."

"And why not? I'm my own adult! I can go to another country myself. Plus, you remember Hana, right? She offered a place for me to stay in London."

Hyunjung raises her eyebrows. "And you're sure Hana is going to let you into her humble abode and take you in?"

"98% sure," you pause for a moment, continuing on to your last minute packing of shoving whatever you could into a duffel. "The 2% is only if I actually get there before she leaves for Amsterdam."

"Wait, what?"

"I should be getting there before Tuesday night, hopefully. If not, then I'm stuck to tend to a motel for a couple of nights until she comes back from finishing that research project in Amsterdam," you snort. "Which will be unlikely. I scheduled a plane for Italy that leaves tonight. From there, I have to take a bus to Belgium to take a ferry to London, so essentially I should be there before Monday."

"Why not take a straight plane to London?" Hyunjung inquires, evidently confused to your excessive and over-the-top plan.

"Where's the fun in that?" You chuckle, grabbing your backpack. "Do you wanna hear my plan that I originally called you for?"

Hyunjung makes a motion with her hand, urging you to proceed into such plan that you always make up to escape your drowning parents.

"A couple nights ago, I bought a plane ticket to Italy. I went to a travel advisor today and paid for a bus and a ferry with cash. This way, my parents will simply think I'm in Italy and while they'll most likely hold this whole huge crazy man hunt for me in Milan, I'll be in London, living my own life, single as a bird. Maybe drinking tea with the queen, perhaps."

The thin look Hyunjung plasters on her face is as if she was talking to someone who told her that she was having twins— maybe even triplets.

"Okay," she begins slowly, squeezing lotion into her hands. "Where do I lie in all of this?"

"What?" Narrowing your eyes at her mischievously, you smirk. "You think you have a role in my plan to be set free?"

"I have a role in any devious plan you make up in your head to get the hell away from your, and I quote, "insane, restricting puppeteers of parents"," she scoffs, making you laugh. "Now what is it? Do you want me to lie to them that you're in Italy?"

"See, you're already ahead of the game!"

She rolls her eyes.

"I just need you to lie that I did go to Italy only for a few weeks and if they press you, just tell them that that's all I told you. Easy."

"Yeah, until your parents try to blackmail me."

"They've never blackmailed you."

"Yeah," she exclaims before biting her lip. "But they could!"

"They won't do that," you roll your eyes at them. Sure your parents are strict, but they find blackmail a bit too extra. "Look, are you going to pick me up soon or not? I have a flight to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs. "I'll leave in five."

The parents that you call yours were indescribably suffocating.

Over-exaggerating, but you do try to peer at it from their perspective, but all you see is publicity and reputation in a string of lies and facades— all of which is clearly evident because you were grown up to keep such a good reputation.

Daughter of a CEO of an oil company and a broadway star, your life was bound to be molded into the flawless model of what a family should be. From the fake smiles on the news to having to be present at elite parties that nearly make you want to rip your brain out, doing one wrong thing would be an instant detrimental effect to your family.

And being tired of having to keep an ideal picture during the day, you sneak out during the night under fake names and fake personas— you are not the daughter of two important people, you are yourself.

Not getting caught was your specialty. It progressed well over time, knowing how well you can harbor in the dark for so long without being exposed, but that week-long trip to Greece was what probably ruined your streak when your mother found out you were not on that school trip upstate, but you were oceans away, relaxing in the nice beaches of Corfu.

Maybe then your mother has gone insane trying to maintain a good reputation for you, but an arranged marriage? Something they've never told you about since two weeks ago? Hell, you were going to drop everything and go off grid just for the arranged marriage to not happen.

And that's exactly what you're going to do.

The current position you're, unfortunately, in is not ideal to your original plan you have set out for yourself.

Muscles growing tired, you've become exhausted, a tad bit dehydrated, and you had an odd craving for something with chocolate. And to tie it all off, your bus driver had just announced they are scheduled to depart a little later than usual as you sat at the window seat, pondering about the extra time you could've used to get a bottle of water and maybe some fudge brownies from the store, but sacrificing this seat is not apart of your plan.

So you sit there, watching strangers trickle in slowly to find seats on the bus, and thankfully none of them took the chance to sit in the empty seat next to you. As you finally grow a comfort in your seat, ignoring your growing dehydration and aching muscles, you may have spoke too soon when you felt the bus almost shake by how the one stranger slipped into the seat next to you with heavy momentum.

Glimpsing at the panting stranger, you shift your crossed legs to point towards the window. You don't see his face well enough, but you didn't show much care when you lay back into your seat. "Woah there, cowboy, we depart in twenty. You didn't have to rush and crash into this seat beside me."

"What?" He says, breathlessly. You can tell from the corner of your eye, he's giving you a questionable look. "It's supposed to depart at 10:30."

Snorting, you fix your posture. "Yeah, well, delays happen, big guy. It's going to be 11 now. Nice entrance."

As you peek at him, he don't miss the eyebrow he raises at you. Settling in nicely beside you, he holds out his hand in a polite manner. "Jungkook."

You glance at his hand and back at him, going back to leaning your head against the head support. "Hi."

"Ah," he takes his hand back after he notices you not taking it. "So you're going to make me ask you for your name?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "I'm not making you do anything?"

"I introduced myself. It's a common courtesy to at least share a name back, but seeing that you didn't tell me your name, you're in turn ruining that common courtesy by having me ask you for your name."

"Or I'd rather keep my name to myself than reveal it to an utter stranger," you smile. "Nice try, but you haven't earned my trust enough to know my name."

He has a fixed gaze on you. "Did you want my life story in exchange?"

"That depends. How badly do you want to know my name?"

"Well," he lets out a dramatic sigh. "When I was little, my mom and dad got divorced and my mom married another man—"

"Hmm, see, " you cut him off. "I can't even trust that's a real story. Guess we're better off as strangers."

He chuckles as you close your eyes.

And that's how you shut him up from then, when the began to depart, and in the midst of just entering the freeway when you make the mistake of grabbing a small bag of pretzels from your backpack and sitting back to eat them in hopeful silence.

"Why are you heading to Brussels?" The stranger asks mid-crunch of your pretzel.

Your eyes widen slightly by the sudden question, before you're shrugging at him in response. "None of your business."

It would be easy to tell him that you're only there to catch a ferry, but along with that will follow up more questions— talking to him was draining enough.

He lets out a light scoff. "A simple question."

"That's none of your business."

Jungkook cocks his head to the side as you're chewing on your pretzels. "Are you always this hard to crack?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Not really, but it's definitely getting a rise out of you."

"So I sit next to a dipshit named Jungkook who probably has daddy issues," you throw at him, referring to his previous said fact about him to exchange for your name. "Long hours ahead of us."

"And I, for one, intend to make the most out of it by trying to get to know you."

You snort, pulling out your earphones from your pocket, closing your eyes for the last time until the next stop. "Good luck."

Fortunately for you, when they flutter open, the bus had made a stop in the middle of a venue with greens and whites that catches your eye as you peer out the window. Making it quick, the bus driver announces for a 20 minute break parked in the Swiss Alps, instructing where the bathroom is and demonstrating a shop just in sight.

"Finally," you breathe in relief, feeling your dehydration grow with each second.

You ignore Jungkook and the fact that he was blocking you just slightly to take your break when you squeeze your way between him and the seat, making room for yourself between the people packing in the bus aisle to leave the bus as well.

The air was crisp and your breath was evident every time you exhaled, taking you aback by the wonders of the place around you. The skies were grey, but the massive trees and the sparkling fresh snow of the woods is what makes you wide-eyed.

And you think about how there are so many wonders in the world that your parents have not made you seen. Sure, you've visited Switzerland, but only for pure business. Never once were you told that you could explore and initiate that wanderlust that always grew inside of you when you're away from home.

Taking your boots and trudging through the snow, you follow the flock of people from the bus who are noticeably going inside one of the small wooden buildings or heading to where the restroom signs were.

Grabbing a water bottle along with a bag of chocolate-covered almonds, you're about to buy something with the cash you exchanged with Swiss Franc, when you tiredly see that the line was taking awhile. Letting out a yawn, you divert your attention out the window, only to see something interesting just nearby.

It was a cottage that looked completely different from the similar buildings like the store you're in. Squinting, your curiosity gets the best of you as you're trying to get a better look of it, noticing that there evident trails of moss on the roof, creating a rustic aura, as well as interesting charms being hung on the patio.

You wonder what's inside, completely enchanted by its appearance and its—

"What are you buying?" The voice of your familiar, annoying seat partner appears by your side, causing you to jump out of your thoughts and to scowl at his arrival.

"You don't ever know how to leave someone alone, huh?" You sarcastically grin to which he responds with a smirk, shaking his head.

"Just you."

You give him a look before you're buying it. "Give me some space, Jungkook."

"I don't know if you're allowed to say my name when I don't know yours, gingercake."

You give him a fake smile before you were finally next in line and Jungkook seemingly follows you to the register. When you notice he's beside you empty-handed, you give him a pointed look. "You're not buying anything?"

"No," he replies. "I don't need anything."

"So, you're just here to annoy me then."

"Essentially," he laughs before he nods his head to a certain direction. "You noticed the cottage out there, too?"

"Quite creepy that you're watching me, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "Think of it what you will. But you didn't answer my question."

"I don't answer to strangers."

"But we're not," he says. "We're bus buddies."

"No," you cringe at the term he made for both of you as you grab the receipt and your snacks. "No, we're not."

Before he would say anything more, you make a hurried walk for the door, back turned to him.

"Oh, come on," he persists as he tries to walk beside you. "Is your name embarrassing, or something?"

"My name is none of your business."

"You're being so stubborn over a little thing. Are you like a wanted criminal? Is that why?"

You gasp dramatically as if he was correct. "Yes! Right on the nose!"

"Come on," he continues, knowing very well your sarcasm was not a pretty trait on you. "I'm not a snitch either way."

"No, but you do know how to get on my nerves."

"That hurts," he chuckles. "Come on, it's just a name—?"

You turn over to him in brooding irritation. "That you don't deserve to know, end of discussion. Jungkook, please, I am of little importance to you and you to me. Not knowing my name won't hurt you in the long run. So please, can I spend the rest of this bus ride without you bombarding me asking me what my name is?"

Jungkook looks at you before he puts his hands up in defeat. "Fine. But for the record, I have never met anyone so protective over something so little like their name."

"And I've never met someone so pushy, but here we are—" As you turn around, you notice that the bus was gone and your eyes widened.

"No, no, no," you mutter before you're sprinting towards the road and just there, the bus was moving further down the winding road, growing tinier within the second.

"Great! How absolutely peachy! We missed our bus!" You groan, removing your beanie from your head, exasperated. You turn over at Jungkook who just so happens to finally catch up to you, noticing the reason for your distress.

"It's fine, don't panic."

You turn over to face towards the standing dumbass with a baffled look. "We're in the middle of the fucking Swiss Alps, idiot! There is no service here. How the hell are we going to get to Brussels now?"

"Look, just calm down. Let's go inside and see if the cashier can help."

However, going into the store didn't help when the lady at the store didn't have any type of phone to help you contact anyone, nor was she interested in helping you both so she pointed you towards the cottage you happened to stare at earlier.

At first, you didn't oppose the idea, very curious as to what this cottage has to offer. And when you step onto the patio and a notice a wooden sign that says open, Jungkook is the first to turn the knob and take a step.

Remarkably, you're not walking in with fear, but you're walking in with a curious mind— and when you happen to step inside, you're not quite disappointed.

It was breathtaking— something you've never seen before. There were rows and rows of jars filled with herbs of sorts and odd colorful gems and crystals were displayed with the occasional plants that hung from the ceiling. A bucolic, yet eerie feeling was blossoming in your chest that you don't notice that you've walked farther in than Jungkook.

"Hello?" Jungkook calls aloud. You peer behind yourself, noticing his wandering eyes as you turn your head back front, focusing on the table with a crystal ball.

"Hello, is anyone here?" Jungkook tries again as you wonder where every single ancient thing came from before the sound of foot steps makes you pause, moving backwards to stand behind Jungkook.

"Visitors?" A voice of whom you'd assume belonged to a female spoke aloud in the unreal way possible.

As she makes an appearance coming out of one of the corridors, you notice that out gracefully comes a woman of red hair and piercing green eyes, lips decorated in berry and cheeks of a deep plum. Her clothing was almost a gypsy, but she wore a coat of fur over the gold jewelry she wore on her neck and hips.

"And what is this?" She brings a finger to her lips in utter astonishment and peculiarity, eyes narrowing to focus on you and Jungkook. "A wreath's bond?"

A what bond? You think.

Jungkook and you take a moment to glance at each other, exchanging odd looks before looking back at the woman who was shuffling towards the circular table with the crystal ball sitting in the center of it.

"Ah, you two don't know," she observes, laughing hysterically and taking a seat. You're confused, but there was an odd feeling in your stomach that seemed to give some sort of trust to her. "Come, you two. Sit. I have a feeling about you both."

"Actually," Jungkook begins, grabbing your wrist and preventing you from moving towards her. "We were told that you would know how to get to the nearest bus station."

Her head snaps up, and lets out a scoff. "By who?"

"Lady in the gift shop," you answer. "They had no phone, but she told us to come here."

"That damn grinch. Always tells visitors to come here when they need a phone or directions."

"Well, do you?" You ask politely.

"This is the Alps, honey-pie. There is no such thing as service here."

"Great, she sees you as food," Jungkook whispers quietly down to you. "She's going to eat us."

The joke that comes from Jungkook makes you nudge him with your elbow, releasing yourself from his grasp that you didn't realize was still there.

"Is there a bus stop nearby?" You try.

"Not nearby, but I can lead you to a village just an hour travel by walking... well, it's more of a ski resort, but surely there's people there willing to help."

"Where is it?"

She's silent before she's patting on the table, motioning you both to sit.

Jungkook and you hesitate, but you're the first to move, walking towards the lady who could easily kill you, but emanates curiosity that even you couldn't resist. Jungkook follows after you, sitting in the chair across from yours.

"Let me see your hands," she says, palms outwards, awaiting your hands. However, you were reluctant, looking up at Jungkook who was shaking his head discreetly. "Oh, I promise I won't bite. I'm Evanora, the friendly witch of the east."

"A witch?"

"That could explain the crystal ball," Jungkook nods, staring directly at the iridescent ball sitting on the table.

"What did you think I was?" She inquires, a berry-lipped smile on her face. "And the crystal ball is just for decoration. Now, hands. Give."

You, with a slight bit of reluctance, gives your hand to her, Jungkook following after you as the witch throws a smile, to which she closes her eyes and slightly squeezes.

You meet Jungkook's smile he was trying to prevent by the odd circumstance you both were in, you shrugging in uncertainty before Evanora opens her eyes.

She nods, pointing outside her window. "If you go down the trail, you will see cabins."

"Wait, that's it?" Pressing her, you were immediately concerned as to what she saw.

"What I saw," she pats your hand in an eerie manner. "Shouldn't be said."

You open your mouth, curious as to what on earth she could possibly have seen that's making her bite back a smile. Eyes peering over to Jungkook, you shake your head. "It doesn't matter anyways," you scrunch your eyebrows at her words. "Trail? What trail?"

"Packed up by snow. But if you follow the opening of those trees, you will find the village." She gives a smile before it immediately fades.

"What?" Jungkook presses, noticing her mood change.

"I must warn you, there are winter elves ahead."

"Elves," you blink.

"Like Santa's elves?"

"Winter elves," she nods. "Do not interact with them. They tend to distract you from your purpose. And they like to steal anything shiny."

"You can't be serious," you arch an eyebrow.

"You've met a witch. Is it really that hard to believe?" Evanora says as she stands. "Go, embark on your journey, but I will tell you this—"

Jungkook stands quite abruptly, seemingly ready to leave the cabin of Evanora's while you stand up slowly, awaiting for Evanora to finish. "Lose one another, you will lose the purpose."

"We won't lose each other," you promise.

"I have a feeling that you may," she quietly says, but it was audible for you to hear. "And when you must, your wreath's bond will find you both again."

Scrunching your eyebrows together at the phrase, you're about to open your mouth to ask for explanation.

Immediately, the witch puts her finger up to silence you before she smirks. "The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do."

The two of you searched for the opening of the immense and jaw-dropping trees before you, noticing the snow, as Evanora said, being packed up on a trail, however that didn't stop the two of you from walking down the trail.

When you first begin walking, Jungkook is quiet, knowing that you're in your thoughts. And he was right. The so-called witch made you more concerned, especially after she held your hands and said she couldn't say what she saw. You think of the bad things that she must've seen, ranging from a terrible accident or a betrayal or anything that would bring you in harms way.

"Come on, you actually believe she's an actual witch?" Jungkook asks all of a sudden. He must have noticed your brain turning in the silence. "She didn't give us the best directions. She told us to find a ski resort where someone can help us."

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do," you say aloud, slowly. "What does she mean?"

"Just a whole lot of mumbo jumbo to me," he postulates. "She was probably just saying shit out of her ass." When he sees that you've paused, Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. "You're not telling me you actually believe in that nonsense?"

"I'm superstitious. I believe in ghosts, aliens, mermaids. A witch doesn't sound like nonsense."

Embarrassed wasn't the word you'd say you felt when Jungkook looks at you, flabbergasted after you decree that you believe in the supernatural. Maybe a tad bit awkward, but seeing that he lets out a chuckle, you purse your lips. "You've read Harry Potter, haven't you?"

"No. No, I haven't actually. I just believe in a little bit of magic, that's all."

"I still think the winter elves is a load of bullshit," he states. "Come on. Elves?"

"Yeah," you nod, semi-lying. "Yeah, I know."

From then on, it felt exhausting.

The continuous trudging in the snow with heavy boots felt overtiring, but determination was your factor that kept you persisting. You couldn't afford to miss a day— not when you didn't think of pulling out enough cash from the bank, so paying for a couple of nights at a motel in London will surely give your location away to your parents who are probably on a manhunt for you.

Just then, Jungkook, who was in front of you, stops.

It makes you bump into him, looking up from the white snow to give him a questioning look. Seeing that he points at something in front of him, you glance at the direction, noticing evident small houses that were seemingly built by branches scattered amongst the area.

"Is this it? Are these the winter elves we have to worry about? Oh man, I sure hope they don't eat my toes!" Jungkook howls, hands on his stomach as he pokes at one of the houses on a tree stump. "Oh no, I wonder if they're magical. Are they gonna freeze us to death?"

You stand up straight, rolling your eyes at him. "Pipe the fuck down, asshole," you scold him, punching his shoulder.

"Oh, come on, did you really believe there would be winter elves? Elves? Please, these are houses made out of branches that a hiker probably made—"

His words were muted out when your ears catching something similar to a musical pipe.

"Shh," you bring a finger to his mouth. "Do you hear that?"

Jungkook's words are mute with your finger pressed against his lips while your ears try to pick up what sounded more clearly like a faint flute folk song.

Scrunching his eyebrows, he brings a hand to your wrist, removing your hand from his lips and stares at you intently. Gazing up to him, you stand still when he comes near to you, bringing his previously muted lips to your ear.

"That's the wind," he whispers, causing you to exasperatingly sigh, lifting your hands to push him away as he cackles loudly that he was clenching his stomach once more.

Annoyed wasn't a term you'd settle with how you were feeling at the moment, but as you stand there, with arms crossed over your body, you wait for him to shut up. "For gods sake, come on."

Grabbing his arm, you continue to walk along the veiled trail, his laughter fading away after a long time, and once it did, your breath nearly stops when ahead you see a spread of lights.

"Is that it? The ski resort she was talking about?" Jungkook asks, panting as you shrug, continuing to walk as you saw people in layers walk around. You admire the colors they were wearing, some were neutrals, but some wore festive colors of red and green, gold and white.

"Come on, old man," you tell him as he was trailing further from you.

"Slow down a little bit, would you?" He calls for you as you throw a grin at him, turning back around to keep walking on the cobblestone sidewalk, mesmerized by the village.

After a few steps of being mesmerized of the things around you, you turn around, noticing that you weren't the only thing mesmerized by the things around you, but when you see Jungkook being swept away off his feet into what seems to be a pub by a strand of golden hair, you're once again, annoyed.

Pursing your lips, you let out a sigh and turn around, beginning to walk down the street, easily letting your contempt ease off your chest as you try to look for someone to help by yourself. You didn't even care if you were going to have to leave this ski resort by yourself, that was your whole purpose.

You walk further down, watching in awe as the people decorate their exteriors, putting up tinsel, lights and garlands, those carrying a fresh tree into their homes, and those carrying stacks of presents, curious at how festive the place was being.

Stopping in front of a store, you stare from the outside, admiring the exterior before your eyes narrow, attempting to peek inside the store.

First, you see a spectrum of colors of what your eyes focused to be wrapping paper of different designs and patterns galore. You think it's a gift store, but then, you observe that there are people in rows, wrapping boxes in a quick and swift motion. At first, you're marveling at how fast they're wrapping, tying it all off with a bow on top and tossing it in a pile of other finished presents before you're thinking they resemble something so familiar that—

You're distracted.

Realizing this, you tear your eyes away from the store, continuing to walk, searching for someone who was not tending to decorating or not busy in this ski resort to help you, only when you reach a revelation.

This was no ski resort— at least one without a ski left. And as if Evanora's raspy voice was echoing in your ear, you realize the mistake that you and Jungkook made; you separated.

It is with no hesitation that you're walking with a brisk pace, others on the street looking up at the foreigner walking towards the pub in such a hurry.

You pull on the door, a bell indicating that customer walked in, eyes searching for the person you were warned not to split from, implicitly ignoring that others were looking at you with a strange curiosity.

Walking inside and letting the door shut behind you, your eyes graze upon the small pub before they stop to the familiar raven-haired boy talking to the blonde in which her pernicious coquetry was evident even from afar.

You're about to grab Jungkook from his arm in attempt to drag him away, but you stop when you see that the blonde seductively takes a finger to his neck, tracing a line down his throat to hook her finger along the silver chain that was tucked under his shirt.

Nearly vomiting whatever was in your stomach at the sight in front of you, you crinkle your nose in utter remorse when Jungkook looks at her up and down, a smirk on his face.

The sight merely makes you leave the pub, until you turn around adamantly, only to remember what Evanora was saying— they tend to distract you from your purpose.

Groaning distinctly, you whip towards the idiot and the seducing winter elf, clearing your throat at the two who were sharing a laugh together.

"Oh, hey," Jungkook looks up at you briefly before looking back at the blonde. "There you are. Where were you?"

"Can I grab you for a second?" You say oddly sweetly, feigning the blonde a friendly smile lifted by your cheeks in which she returns one politely before going back to drinking from her cup. Without even hearing Jungkook try to object, you grab his arm hastily and take him outside.

Jungkook stumbles over his feet for a moment before the crisp winter air hits both of your faces on impact. "Woah there, gingercake. What's going on?" Even with a tug, it doesn't loosen your grip from his arm as you try to drag him away from the pub as fast as possible.

"We're leaving," you utter, but hearing that, Jungkook immediately stops, your turn to be the one stumbling.

Turning around with a huff, you give him a scowl, letting your hand that was digging into his arm go. He opens his mouth, his narrow eyes questioning your motive. "Why?"

"Jungkook, just listen to me."

He crosses his arms across his chest, a smug painting his features. "What if I don't want to?"

You half-heartedly scoff at him, shrugging. "Fine, then stay. I couldn't care less."

He opens his mouth to say something, but even when he could even process words to elicit, you're already turning around again, eyes focusing on the horizon that's being set as your only goal and focus. As you walk ahead with persistence, you curse in your head for even being kind enough to get him out a situation that could easily have him stripped.

"Hey, woah," Jungkook jogs up to reach in front of you. Stopping to raise an eyebrow at him, you observe him as he gives you an uncertain look. "Is that jealousy in your voice?"

"How rich," you scoff. "Jungkook, I am anything but jealous right now, and you're really testing me." Moving around him, you continuing to walk before he stops you again, looking around to find a gap between stores, pulling you to the side from the strangers who were walking past you both.

"You are!" He exclaims once he successfully pulls you away.

"Jungkook," you exasperate, before lowering your voice. "This is not the ski resort. This is the village Evanora warned us about."

"What?"

"You were flirting with a winter elf, idiot," you whisper loudly. "This is not a ski resort, it's a village of winter elves."

Jungkook half-heartedly laughs, shaking his head. When he sees that your face was anything but amused, his face morphs into confusion. "No, there's no such thing as—"

Rolling your eyes, you shut him up by moving closer to him, eyes not tearing away from his when you bring your finger to his neck, which ultimately makes him freeze at your sudden movements. As you're tracing down his throat, you don't think of anything more as you yank down the collar of his shirt, only to reveal what you originally suspected.

"Where's your necklace, Jungkook?" You ponder, your eyes never leaving his. Jungkook hesitates before he removes his eyes from yours and looks down, your hand not leaving its current state and exposing his bare, pale chest.

He inhales sharply before you finally let your hand go, waiting for his eyes to meet yours again. You take a step back, crossing your arms with slight arrogance as you offer an amused smile.

"She was trying to seduce you, Jungkook," you state. "So she could steal. She obviously did a good job when she made you forget your purpose and stole your necklace."

"For fuck's sake," Jungkook curses, running a hand through his hair. You were close to tell him 'I told you so', but you refrain when he takes your wrist and drags you out of the opening. "Let's go."

The scenery was beautiful, with the green hues that contrasted with the white that was almost so bright it blinded you, but with the little bit of sun that peeked from the clouds, you couldn't help but get distracted with everything around you.

It almost makes you feel like you don't have a crazy dad or an insane mother that expect you to be home in perfect condition just to sell you off to someone you don't know.

You must have been mindlessly walking and trudging in the snow with your boots nearly weighing you down because just when you bump into something, you're about to curse at yourself for being stupid to walk into a tree. That is, until you realize it wasn't a tree, it was Jungkook's form, who had idiotically taken a halt that caused you to bump into him.

"Jungkook—"

"Look," he cuts you off. Peering over his shoulder, your reaction had shifted from annoyance to awe when you notice that the evergreens weren't the only wonder.

Walking down to the ski resort was just over a hill, trudging over inches of snow and having to make sure not to fall face forward. Jungkook eventually sees a bit of struggle coming from you— to which, in your defense, he has an advantage due to his elongated legs— and reaches out to your for support. However, your adamancy slaps his hand away, continuing to walk over the hill to see more of the lights that contrasted the nearing night sky.

"Hey, question," he inquires aloud once the snow had reached scarce and just ahead were the many wooden buildings with warm lights.

Nodding, you spare him a glance, breathing almost heavy as you both continue to walk. "Shoot."

"Don't you think you could've stopped her when she was stealing my necklace?"

Jungkook reaches to your side as you both reach the icy street where people were bundled in clothes. What reassured you were the group of people walking down the street across from you, carrying their snowboarding gear inside a building, their laughter echoing down the streets.

Without pondering, you shrug. "I wasn't the one flirting with her."

"I'm going to ignore your raging jealousy here and ask you one more time—"

"Jungkook, I wasn't the idiot who easily got distracted and forgot what Evanora said," you cut him off. "She said that, lose each other you lose your purpose— and while you were being whisked away by some winter elf, I was trying to find someone to help us. It's not jealousy, it's called not being stupid."

"Great," he exhales deeply. You don't miss the stress that elicited along with it, you cocking your head to the side in sudden curiosity.

"Why? Was it important?"

He waves you off. "It was just a family necklace, that's all."

"A family necklace," you repeat, before scrunching your eyebrows. "Sounds pretty important to me."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he shakes his head as you both continue to walk down the village. "It's gone now."

Feeling a tad bit sympathetic, you reach up to him, matching his pace. "This," you say as you pull out your hand from your pocket. "This was handed to me by my mother which was given by her mother and by her mother and by her mother."

He peers down at your frozen hands, eyeing the ring. "What does the leaf mean?"

You don't tell him that the leaf meant growth.

In your mother's line of successful women, the ring was always passed down so long as there would be potential demonstrated. Your grandmother, being a former model, and your mother, having to be a broadway musical star, you were seen to have potential to be an heiress of the company your father runs— but it's too bad you distasted such high expectations. Hell, you were even willing to have the elves steal this rather Jungkook's necklace when all you're doing is creating a ruination in your line of successful women.

"It's alright," Jungkook says, shaking his head after noticing your reluctance. "You won't tell me your name, I can't expect you to tell me the meaning of your family ring."

At first, you're taken aback at how easy that was for him to say that, especially after trying to have you choke out your name. You stare, flabbergasted but almost grateful he didn't try to push this time.

"The necklace was given to me by my uncle from my mother's side," Jungkook explains nonchalantly as you both unconsciously walk towards the line of cabins that most likely held travelers. "Said he'd give it to his son if it weren't for the fact that his wife can only reproduce daughters."

Snorting, you quirk a smile at him. "How many daughters does he have?"

"Five," he chuckles. "All of who are very, very annoying."

"Why's that?"

"Annoying in a way that they're disgustingly successful," he says. "Runs in the blood except for mine."

To that, you let out a snigger. "I can definitely relate to that."

"What's this?" He laughs. "We're actually having a decent conversation?"

Rolling your eyes, you give him a nudge, shaking your head.

And oddly enough, for once the silence when both of your laughter dies isn't awkward— it's not tension nor is it uncomfortable. It's almost pleasant.

Jungkook, silently, looks at you in a peculiar fond way that makes you slow down your pace a bit. Your insides twist and turn in your stomach at the way he just stares at you without so much of a word— as if he's either judging you or he's admiring you, in which you're hoping deep down it's the former.

You're exhaling a shuddering breath when you desperately decide to ruin the moment, taking one of your hands out of your pocket at pointing at one of the cabins. "Over there," you declare, cheeks beginning to redden. "Let's try over there."

And you do not miss a second to speed up your pace, careful on the slippery street not to slip, hearing Jungkook walking behind you.

When you finally reach to a random cabin with a car parked outside, you're silently hoping that they would answer the door to two strangers.

And with each second passed and your hopes were falling, you hear the door unlatch, your ears perking at the sound when the door opens. A man, wearing a red plaid flannel and a black beanie opens it with a confused look.

"Hello?" He asks and your eyes light up.

"Hi!" You cheerily state, relieved that someone was even willing to open the door. "Sorry to be such a bother, but we're stranded and we were hoping if you knew where the nearest bus station is?"

The stranger nods with a warm smile. "It's down the hill, actually. Quite a trip on foot."

"Is it?" Jungkook asks. "Are there any taxis or maybe Ubers that you know of that's available here?"

The stranger shakes his head. "Nope, but I'd be gladly to drop you guys off there."

"Wait, really?" You ask in surprise, looking at Jungkook with excited eyes. "That'd be really great!"

"Of course," he gleams. "I'm assuming you both need to get to your families for Christmas."

Jungkook and you exchange glances. "Something like that."

"I'll let my wife know and grab the keys."

"Thank you!" You call out, the door being left a crack open as you turn over with Jungkook with excitement. You're nearly about to squeal when Jungkook gives this uncertain look that throws your whole excitement out the window. "Alright, what's in your panties that got you in a twist?"

"You really trust this guy?"

Your expression falls, shrugging. "He's got a car— unless you want to walk another who-knows miles on foot by yourself?"

"We can't trust everyone we meet, you know."

Ironic he said that. Your expressions falls as you narrow your eyes. "Says the one who trusted a winter elf."

Sure, pettiness could be drawn from tHe opens his mouth to make a riposte, but the stranger comes back with his keys and a coat over his shoulders.

"I'm Seokjin, by the way," he introduces himself as he unlocks the car, both you and Jungkook sitting the backseat. He turns the engine on, immediately turning on the heater that felt like cold air at first.

When he backs up out of the snow without the problem of getting stuck, you feel your body at ease as you finally realize that your plan was setting back on track.

Seokjin speaks up, apparently disliking the silence that you both elicited. "How did you guys get stranded?"

"Our bus left without us," you tell him. "It was his fault."

Jungkook gapes at your accusation. "Oh, nice, we're pointing fingers now?"

Couldn't help but laugh in return, you counterfeit a smile. "Can't deny it."

"You know, for a person to look so nice," Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "You're an absolute pain."

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," you send a wink his way, immediately frowning afterwards. "Piss off, Jungkook."

"Love to, gingercake, but looks like we're stuck with each other for—"

And just then, Jungkook's voice trails off by the sonorous jolly laugh that comes from the man in the front seat. You turn your attention to him, wondering why on earth he would be laughing. "Sorry. You both remind me of my wife and I."

"What?" Jungkook and you say in unison.

"We used to banter like that a lot."

To that, you snort. "Banter is an understatement. Can't help it when he's a walking idiot."

"And she's a headache in human form," Jungkook pipes in, to which you glare in return.

"Well, my wife used to call me dick for brains," he adds, a jolly chuckle following after as he reminisces his memory lane. "But, I guess I must have warmed up to her if she somehow let dick for brains marry her."

"Yeah, well, she's much more stubborn and colder than that. I don't even know her name."

"You don't?" His eyes peer in the rearview mirror to give us a glance.

"We just met. And besides," you reason, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. "It's not important."

It really wasn't. Your name isn't really your identity when all you think about when you hear it is high expectations. If you let your name be known, everyone is bound to find out who you are and eventually— with word getting around— your mother will find out where you are running away to.

Sure, you could make up a fake name, but you'd be creating bridges even after this trip you know you're going to have to burn them.

He chuckles. "I remember my wife being that stubborn. She really wanted me to give up on her."

"I'm guessing you didn't," you observe.

"She was worth all the constant banters, I'll tell you that," he shakes his head. "Once, she didn't want to admit she was sorry for keeping us a secret from her friends and family. It took her three months of guilt to finally say sorry."

"Three months?" Jungkook ponders. Seokjin nods behind the wheel.

"It took her time to tell her friends and family about us, but she eventually apologized."

"She must have been scared to want to hide it from them."

The idiot next to you snorts. "Or embarrassed."

"Scared," he answers. "Which is why I forgave her the day I found out about it."

"And you let her feel guilty for three months?"

"I knew she was sorry from the beginning. I just didn't think that the most adamant person in the world would even think of apologizing to me," he chuckles. "But hey, eventually she did."

To that, Jungkook lets out a chuckle before he's making a trip around the roundabout, making a stop in front of a wide building.

"Here's your stop," he says, putting the car in park. "You two have a nice Christmas, alright?"

You smile at him. "You and your wife as well. Thank you again for helping us."

He shoots you a smile just before you close the car door. "Anytime."

When you hurry inside the bus station, you totally forget about the time until you see it on the massive clock built in the station, and you sincerely hope that the next bus ride to Brussels would be in the next 2 hours. Luckily, as you and Jungkook stood in line for awhile, you both get a ticket for the next bus to your destination which comes in the next twenty minutes.

And as you're trying to forage for remaining cash, you realize that you were short. Jungkook must have noticed this when he coolly steps up and gives his cash, paying for his and your ticket. You look at him, surprised, when they give two tickets to him.

"You didn't need to do that," you utter to him as he gives your ticket.

He shoots you a winning smile, a wink following after. "All you have to say is thank you."

The entire trip of having to hike down the woods was more exhausting than the plane ride to Milan that you couldn't help yourself when you fall asleep on the bus ride. Jungkook must have knocked out too when you wake up in the middle of a bus stop, head on his shoulder.

You think of the possible reason as to why he would be going to Brussels. After all, this whole trip was of him trying to ask questions of you, not the other way around. And it's not like you weren't interested— it wasn't your priority to get to know someone you won't end up knowing in the next week anyways.

Because like everything in the world, not everything is permanent.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder once more, basking in the comfort that will only last for so long.

Getting off the bus at your desired location, you both realize that it reached dusk, the sun had made its set and the night has become dark. It made a stop just nearby a grand area of colorful lights that intrigued you from afar.

You turn around to face Jungkook who stretches as he hops off the bus. Shooting tired smile your way, you decide to give one back.

"Do you want to go see what's over there?" You ask him, nodding your head towards the place that caught your attention.

His eyes flicker from what you were indicating to yours, a mischievous look painting over his former tired one before he angles his arm, in which you gladly take as you both make way to the bright, shining lights before you.

It doesn't take you long to realize that it's some sort of Christmas Market, as advertised by some of the posters that you saw on the way to the big area.

There were chatters and squeals and Christmas songs galore and despite the weather being cold and brisk, you felt warm.

Saying that there were colorful lights would be an understatement, when really, the Christmas Market looked like an utter theme park within itself. The tall, elongated buildings were decorated from head to toe and even the gazebos that gave shelter to those selling— it was all breathtaking.

It must have taken Jungkook's breath away too when you catch him eye goggling at the many fascinating attractions around him.

"So," you begin, ready to take your first bite from your waffle that Jungkook bought for you after he saw you eyeing it from afar. "Why did you want to come to Brussels?"

The questions surprises him, but his answer was responded with ease. "To start anew."

"Does it have to do with the whole success-running-in-family's-blood-besides-yours thing?"

"You could see it that way," he chuckles. "Or simply because life as it is now for me isn't exciting."

You give him a look, lowering your waffle. "You sound discontent."

"And you sound like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Chuckling, you shrug. "Well, I'll just say that my trip isn't so much of a nice vacation."

"Hm, you sound tired of the life you have."

"Sounds like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

And with that, both of your words are left in the air as you both are walking down, side by side, down the streets of the brightly lit Christmas market, being thousands of miles away from home.

In your own thoughts, you think about the what if's. What if you didn't hear your parents talk about an arranged marriage for you? What if you actually were forced into it like everything you've ever done in your life? What if you're walking down the aisle to meet a man you haven't even said one word to? What if you end up not loving him?

This wasn't any type of romantic story where two strangers eventually fall in love through force, this is was an ending to your own story. Realistically, there's a chance that the person you're going to marry isn't the prince charming or the knight in shining armor that anyone would expect.

And there goes your life.

Gone and wasted, and not being able to give it a second chance.

However, you weren't letting that happen now— not at this moment in time.

"Do you think that such high expectations can be overbearing?" You ponder out loud, glancing at Jungkook who was a bit startled by your sudden question.

"A lot of the times," he responds. "Why? What type of high expectations are you being held to?"

"Doing something that I don't want to do," you state honestly. "That's why I came all the way here."

"Avoiding it?"

"You could see it that way."

"Can't avoid it forever," Jungkook says. Can't avoid it forever.

You don't think you've ever seen a light show— or at least not one against a building that brings people's jaws to the ground, so when you're watching it, you're absolutely mesmerized.

The lights were dancing and moving in a fluid motion, you were marveling each second of it.

There's a feeling in your chest. So bright and so merry, you finally understand why almost everyone loves Christmas. With your family either being busy during the holidays, you never realized that this is what you're supposed to feel like. Light and finally content.

Gleaming up at Jungkook, you only smile wider when you realize you caught his eyes. "What is it?"

There was this ghost of a smile on his face that he hides. "Nothing."

You give him a nudge, smugly grinning at him. "It's a simple question."

When he hears you repeat his statement in target to him, he gives this smirk— and for once you're not looking away in irritation or giving him some snarky comment back because when his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes, you knew what was bound to happen.

And you were inevitably going to let it.

Jungkook, with gentle hands, brings you to him, pressing his warm lips onto yours and it is as if you felt your entire body just melt. You move softly against his lips, savoring every bit, but your lips were not helping themselves when they curl into a smile.

He is warm. Like a mug filled with hot chocolate, he is a fireplace on a Christmas eve, and admittedly, you've never been this warm in the cold.

When he lets go, he's looking at you with eyes shaped as crescents. "You trust me enough to kiss you but not know your name?"

To that, you let out a joyous laugh, reaching up on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll have you know that revealing your name is dangerous."

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands from your cheeks. "How dangerous could yours be?"

You bit back a smile at his subtle frustration, grabbing his falling hands and holding them in yours. "Very."

And all throughout the night, it was filled with cheer and excitement as Jungkook and you strolled around in the everlasting lights. Free samples and attractions at its finest, you both spent your time together forgetting you two had lives you're running away from.

And until your legs couldn't hold you up much longer, you had to go find a nearby motel for the night, forgetting that you had to leave early in the morning for a ferry.

Jungkook and you fought for paying for the room, but Jungkook, being charming in a revolting way, inevitably wins and chooses a room where you both end up with a fireplace and a king bed together.

Just before your eyes were closing, time spent with him was filled with giggles and laughter in the air. He tells you about this one story of how, one Christmas, he thought he saw Santa Clause, but it just his dad's friend dressed in a suit trying to climb chimney for his sake. The story makes you laugh, and though almost unbelievable, it makes you flutter your eyes close, reaching a deep sleep that you desperately needed.

That morning, you feel like a child on Christmas morning— even when Christmas isn't for the next week. You felt excitement twist in turn as curiosity has gotten the best of you that all you wanted to do was run downstairs and open the presents that Santa brought.

However, the feeling was fleeting— because even children soon realize that Santa isn't real. And that breaking feeling was because of reality that waves over you as your eyes fixate on the sun that peeked through the window.

Waking up to Jungkook next to you, lightly snoring, makes you feel all sorts of butterflies— something you haven't felt in such a long while. You feel almost giddy, knowing that there's someone there and it just happened to be him, but of course, you knew it wasn't going to last long.

Not wanting to leave without goodbye, you bring your hand to his arm, giving him a little shake as you wake him up. A smile creeping on your face as he groggily awakes, squinting at your active presence.

"Hey," you say quietly. "I have to go."

Go was what made him sit up in bed quickly. "What?" He asks, voice raspy.

"I have a ferry to catch," you say as he rubs his eyes. "I wasn't going to stay in Belgium."

"You weren't?" He frowns. "Where are you heading?"

"London," you reply and you watch as his tired face falls, sitting up straight. "It was nice. You know, meeting you and all."

He smirks at you. "The feeling's mutual."

To that, you smile. "Well," you shrug, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. It was the least you could do. "Merry Christmas, Jungkook."

"Wait!" He pulls your arm back when you pull away. Raising an eyebrow at him, he looks at you with hopeful eyes. "Not even a name?"

You think you'd owe him a name, but you shake your head. "Maybe the next time I see you," you bit back a smile. "But, no worries, I won't forget yours."

When you get to Hana's place in London, you're glad that you made it just in time before she left for Amsterdam. You were also glad that your duffel bag and backpack that were stranded in the bus that left without you was brought to Hana's after you filed a claim for your missing belongings at the bus station.

Hana welcomed you with an embrace, bombarding you with questions that you didn't have time to answer because she had to leave that night, but she made sure she had enough time to catch up with you. You don't tell her about the colossal, mad adventure you had with Jungkook and how he lingers in your thoughts, but instead you tell her about the good things you expect to happen in your time in London.

And before she left to the airport, she gives you a hug, wishing you all the best luck for the holiday season in exploring a city you haven't been to. While you had the house to yourself for less than 24 hours, you realized that all good things come to end.

Especially when you answer the door and your mother is on the other side, hands on her hips.

You completely froze seeing upon her arrival. "Mom, what are you... what are you doing here?"

Without a word, she barges in, sitting on the orange sofa that Hana owns, crossing a leg over her other as she looks at you with darting eyes. "You think I don't remember Hana moving to London? I knew after you took that trip to Greece that you would make a spontaneous trip to London knowing that Hana lives here, but I didn't expect it this soon— oh." Your mother points at you. "—You are something else."

Being yelled at by your own mother felt like a chore, so you calmly close the front door she walked through, walking over to her. "Mom, I don't want to get married."

Her eyebrows furrow together. "___."

"Look, I'm an adult. Most moms want you to focus on finishing college and being able to make a living for yourself, but no, my mom wants me to focus on being presentable— not to mention that she wants to give me away so quickly! And it's not even with a person I love."

"___—"

You shake your head, cutting her off. "You are not making me go back there and marry someone I don't know."

"Sweetheart," she begins before she stands up, searching for your eyes. "You ran all the way here just because you didn't want to get married?"

"I ran all the way here to live, Mom. I wanted to live and experience life without having to worry about what the media has to think about me. Or having to put on a fake smile knowing that I'm a CEO's daughter and the heiress and that if I mess up, that's on me."

Your mother frowns, but you can only shrug in response. "For once, I just wanted to live. Is that so bad?"

Finally, you give her her turn. You hear her sigh, almost disappointingly, but if a little disappointment is what will give you what you need, then you can live with it. "Darling, I think then this is a good time to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

She lets out another sigh. "You're not really getting married."

You blink. "What?"

"You must have overheard your father and I when he were talking with Mr. Jeon, but we didn't want to tell you when we first arranged it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not actually getting married," she enunciates. "You're having a wedding to look like you're married, but you don't have to go through with it."

You open your mouth in confusion, but immediately close it when your mother continues.

"In order for your father to establish this business proposal with Arua&Co., the CEO's grandfather needs the approval. By doing that, he needs a traditional reason as to have two major companies combine rather than a very good proposal, and that solution is a wedding."

"But, how—"

"Our loophole is that he specifically said he wanted a wedding, not a marriage— not to have both of our kids actually marry each other. So, if you're dressing up and looking as if you're getting married, you don't have to go through saying 'I do' if you don't want to."

"So you're not really giving my life to someone I don't know."

"That's sick," she full-heartedly scoffs. "I may expect a lot from you, ___, but this is just the one thing we really need you to do. After that day, you're still single as you want to be."

"Really?"

"Yes, and..." Her voice trails off as you cock your head to the side. "I wanted to tell you this, but because you ran away so soon..." She pauses before she looks at you with a motherly gaze, one that you haven't seen in a long time. "I know that your father and I have a lot of expectations from you, but I know you're an adult. And you need to live your life." You felt your stomach clench. "If you want your freedom, I'll give it to you."

Your jaw nearly falls but she puts her finger up quickly. "With certain restrictions!"

"That's fine— anything!" Nearly squealing, your eyes widen with happiness. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, I'm tired of having to be dreaded by you— my own flesh and blood," your mother laughs. "So, you don't have to come to any of the events we go on. But you will go to the ones we need you to be there for. And you can leave without being monitored, just— shoot me a text from now on. I'm going to get a heart attack the next time you decide to go halfway across the country without letting me know," she says begrudgingly that you couldn't help but give her hug.

A hug that was genuine. A hug that you haven't given her in a long time.

"Really?" You ask, voice muffled in the hug.

"Really. Merry Christmas, honey," she promises, basking into the hug. "Now, can we go home? After you shower? You smell the bus."

To that, you lightly chuckle, nodding. "Right, but— can I do one more thing?" You ask, pulling away to give her a sheepish look. "Can we go to Switzerland real fast?"

It was a long story of how he managed to be back here, but long story short, Jungkook is one day in Brussels having beer, and now his two best friends are helping him put on a suit.

"I told you running away from your problems is never a good idea," Namjoon says as tends to the cuffs of Jungkook's scarlet velvet suit. Namjoon, the always practical one, was not helping his dread at all on this day.

Jungkook, groaning, looks at himself in the mirror, never thinking that this is how he would be spending his Christmas eve. "I don't want to be here."

"Well, you are and you're going to marry the girl, whether you like it or not," Hoseok asserts, flipping carelessly through his magazine of interior design.

"Thanks," Jungkook says with a hint of sarcasm.

Namjoon chuckles. "You're gonna wanna say I do anyways. I just met her and she's actually really cool."

"It's just... weird. I've never met her in my life and now I'll be spending the rest of it with her," Jungkook states and immediately he thinks of you— the stubborn girl he doesn't know the name and now he's probably never going to find her and actually know her name. Not when he's going to be all over the media platforms after this wedding and you to find out that he's actually an heir to Arua&Co. and married to some girl who probably isn't as adamant, or pretty, or curious as you.

Namjoon shrugs. "Yeah, well. You'll form a bond somehow."

Jungkook looks up from his suit after hearing a bond. Mind immediately tracing back to what the witch— if she even is one— Evanora said: a wreath's bond.

It doesn't take long before Jungkook raises an eyebrow, recalling the moment of when he sat down at the table across from the stranger and next to the witch, stating some sort of phrase— a riddle.

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do— it's today," Jungkook speaks.

"Aw, shit. Great," Namjoon announces, letting go of Jungkook's cuff and tending to his own collar. "Jungkook's been in Europe too long he's saying some whack ass shit."

Hoseok chuckles, continuing to flip through his magazine. "I'm telling you, bro, Switzerland is fucking crazy."

"No, you guys. Two of me— she meant the rings— the wedding rings. You do— she meant saying I do. It's a wedding day. She must be here."

"What," the man who finally looks up at his magazine cocks his head to the side. "Now you solve random riddles? What did they feed you in Brussels?"

Jungkook, without so little of a hesitation, gets out of the groom's room of the venue, running down the hallway to the grand venue of the warehouse of where the lights are all around, there are mistletoe hung, and all sorts of greens bringing color to the room. But what he was searching for was the most vibrant of it all— only to realize that he sees anyone but you.

And to himself, he scoffs, thinking of how foolish he could have been to actually believe a witch who possibly could not have been one in the first place.

The dress you wear is lace, from your sleeves to your shoulders. Usually, you'd complain about wearing sleeves on a wedding dress— hell, you'd complain about every little thing that isn't much an inconvenience just to piss your parents off for having a bratty daughter. From the wedding dress, to wedding makeup, to the bouquet, to the food— everything will seem just wrong to you— but having that certainty and approval to say no doesn't make you peep one dreadful word.

Admittedly, you liked the idea of having this wedding. It was like a trial run— and you didn't have to oblige to any commitment.

Your mother walks in on you as you had just put on a dress, hair curled, and light makeup— your mother looks at you so lovingly.

"You picked this dress out, huh?" You ask her and she scoffs.

"Only the best for my daughter," she smirks as she walks over to give you a hug. She wore a deep green dress paired with a fur shawl. "You look beautiful. Even if you're not actually getting married today."

To that, you laugh, shaking your head. "If I have to be a runaway bride, might as well look good doing it."

"That's the spirit," your mother smiles, taking one more look at you. "Are you alright?"

"Just preparing how to dramatically say I don't," you joke, earning a mood lightener in the air. "Is the wedding starting?"

Your mother nods. "Your father is waiting for you outside. Whenever you're ready."

It feels odd, truthfully. About to go marry someone you haven't even properly been introduced to yet, but you try not to think about it— because after all, you don't have to go through with it.

As your arm is interlocked with your father's and you were holding red roses and ferns, you couldn't help but think that this was some sort of fairytale, only for one that you were going to run away from anyways. You think of this just as your father would— solely just business.

As you hear the wedding song play in the audible warehouse, you take a deep breath, your father, giving you a reassuring smile before he starts to take his steps.

Do brides normally feel queasy? No, what were you thinking— you're not actually a bride, and you're not actually going to be married.

Your reassurance in your head makes you feel calm until you're stopping at a spot from across the aisle, where everyone had stood from their seats, countless pairs of eyes staring at you, and only you. Time had froze, but that's not what's making you freeze altogether.

Because standing on the other aisle is Jungkook, the boy from the bus, the boy who went to Brussels who wanted to start anew, the boy who was so curious as to what your name was, the boy—

He was the boy he made you warm in the coldest of nights.

"You alright?" Your father whispers to you, snapping you out of your trance you realized you were in.

"Yes," you answer, eyes not tearing away from Jungkook's.

The person in the velvet suit, waiting for you is just as much in a shock as you are, eyes almost wide, and a look that almost seems like he's relieved to see you. As if he had found oxygen again.

From finally standing in front of him, to staring at him with surprised looks on your faces while the ceremony was taking place, to the very end, you had so many questions and had so many things to say, but couldn't. Instead, you stare at him, thinking what you could possibly say to him to be in this crazy coincidence.

"Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take ___ as your loving wife?"

"I do," he says, his eyebrows scrunching as that was his first time hearing your name. You almost want to snort out loud at how peculiar it is to first hear someone you've been dying to know's name at an alter— standing in front of you. And just immediately, it shakes you because just before, you were thinking of the many ways of how to say you don't, you're actually thinking of saying I do.

"Do you, ___, take Jeon Jungkook as your loving husband?"

The question, that you were so prepared to either say I don't or to runaway dramatically, was left in the air, as you pause. In that moment, you couldn't help but look at the crowd, expecting an answer that was almost obvious— but when looking at your mother for reassurance, she gives you this look and a shrug.

Only if you want to.

Eyes meeting back to Jungkook's chocolate ones, you take a deep breath.

"I do."

"Then Jungkook, you may now kiss the bride."

And there's this big grin you couldn't hide when you notice his little smug look before he's leaning in, recreating the night of when the lights were shining so bright and when just a single kiss could warm you up.

"___," he breathes your name out as if it were fresh air once he releases you from the kiss. "Not as dangerous as I thought."

You scoff, a smile growing. "Just you wait."

He gives you one more look before he kisses you once more, lifting you up from the ground. This time you kiss him harder, confused, yet grateful that this is how you two would meet again— right under your noses.

When he sets you down gently as a feather, he gives you one more look before you slowly both turn over to the crowd who were muted by the moment you had with Jungkook. There was clapping and there was screaming— and you don't even realize that Hyunjung crashes into you with the biggest hug.

"I'm sorry! I tried my best to divert your mom when she asked me if you were in London!" She says, nearly taking your life away as she squeezes you.

"It's fine, Hyunjung— just let me go," you beg, attempting to push her away. As she finally lets go, she gives you look from your eyes to the bottom of your dress.

"I didn't think you'd go through with it," she says, eyes almost tearing up. Rolling your eyes at her, you notice that your mother is walking up beside the nearly crying Hyunjung, an eyebrow raised.

"Neither did I," your mother intervenes. "Is it because he's good looking that you decided to say yes?"

Turning your head to look over at Jungkook who was being hugged and patted down by his groomsmen, you look back to your mother, a big smile painting your features.

"No, actually," you begin. "We know each other."

Your mother is surprised by your answer. "You do?"

"Yes," you smile, looking over at Jungkook. You don't tell her that he was the person who you were stuck with the whole day— the person who made you believe that you could actually live.

"I guess it all works out in the end, doesn't it?" Hearing your mother say that to Hyunjung, you smile to yourself before you're approaching Jungkook who had been waiting for you, and probably has been for awhile.

"I knew you'd be here."

"Really now?" You challenge.

"The day you see two of me is the day same day you say you do," he fluidly states causing you to open your moth amusedly. "A wedding day."

"So, you believe in witches now?"

"Not witches. But maybe just a little bit of magic," he laughs, before he grabs at your waist smoothly, guiding you down the aisle in which you both walk down it, the many people clapping for the newlyweds.

Once he reaches the end where the photographer was snapping pictures, he lets one hand rest at your waist and the other to cup your cheek. He's close, so tremendously close, that his lips only graze yours.

"___," he breathes out with a smirk. "I'm never going to stop saying your name."

And when he kisses you, you feel warm all over again.

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haiky-u-lously · 4 years

Text

King Kuroo and the Red Knights (9)

Summary:

A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes:

Action/fighting/killing, dead bodies, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings:

Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Gore and fighting, mention of explosion, mention of seeing dead bodies

Word Count:

For Chapter: ~2800words

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always.

-Admin Red

Hi everyone! First, I’d like to half-apologize for my sudden disappearance from the weekly updates. I say half-apologize because I do feel bad about it, but the first week was supposed to be a break because I’ve had some physical issues come up and it really really hurts to type so I was trying to take a week away from overly stressing my fingers and putting them through more than necessary pain. So like, it was going to be fully justified even though I did feel bad.

But, after that first weekend without an update I got 7 anon and 2 not-anon asks and 2 direct messages all from individuals basically being hate messages. Regarding how I must be lazy for not keeping my posting up after only two weeks, regarding how the story is crap and they were happy I wasn’t flooding the tags with the b*s anymore. And for how few positive responses I have received regarding the story as a whole after 2 months of posting each week to receive so much after only 1.5 weeks...it was pretty much a punch to the gut.

I realize I am not a top writing for the HQ fandom, I realize that only like...maybe...10 people actually read this story each week, and I am truly grateful to everyone who does. But like that fact that I got so many rude messages as opposed to nice ones really tore me up, especially since in the absence (until yesterday) I hadn’t received any word that anyone was still enjoying the work.

This is why I would like to once again thank the anon who messaged me yesterday. As I said, the kindness you wrote to me made me cry because I’d been so down about this piece. And, I am really glad this work brought you any joy that it did, I hope it continues to do so.

Finally, I have a doctors appointment to get my hands checked out. After basically a month of being in pain with them hopefully something will come of it and I can get back to writing for this work. For now though, here is chapter 9. I hope those following for this piece enjoy it, and honestly if you only wish to send hate please keep it to yourself. Constructive criticism is fine, welcome even (as proven by the fact that I owned up to being wrong about certain characters being third years), but hate messages...those are just pointless.

I hope you like this next installment. Enjoy!

–Admin Red

Chapter 9: Morning of the Tournament

It had been a long few days as the castle staff, knights, and royals of Camelot prepared for the tournament they’d decided to hold. But everyone was in high spirits at breakfast that morning, even Suga and you who’d had a few close calls with your new hall-mate liking to barge in without so much as knocking to indicate his approach.

After the third scare of him walking in while you were eating, you’d started to use your magic to lock the door whenever your helmet was off.

“I still can’t believe how quickly he accepted that you just had (h/l), (h/c) hair when he saw the back of your head,” Suga commented biting into his eggs from his breakfast plate.

You laughed a bit before responding, finishing off your own mouthful of food. “Yea, he is very friendly though. I appreciate how true his comment was. Saying this was the most private hall of the castle? We only come across him regularly, it is pretty nice to be afforded the level of privacy I wanted. Even if there were a few mistakes at the beginning.” You smiled as you went in for more food.

Suga had finished clearing his plate before mouthing to you that he agreed with your assessment.

*knock knock*

When you heard the knocking from your door, rather than the whines of a knight who felt excluded from the so-called party, you knew it was someone other than the King’s right-hand man at your door. Quickly you put your helmet on, still hiding your true identity and removed your magic hold on the door so Suga could open it.

“Excuse me,” Futakuchi called upon entering your chambers. “Ah so you are both here, great! Makes this less work for me then.”

Suga laughed on both of your behalves at the attendant’s joke, having grown accustomed to his sense of humor as it was similar to your own.

“The King has asked me to tell you the order of today’s fights.” He said, pulling a piece of parchment from behind his back with a wide grin.

Suga’s eyes lit up as Futakuchi spoke, and you knew your friend was looking forward to this show of strength as much as any of the men of Camelot, and you smiled proudly behind your face-wear.

When a full minute passed without a word from the magician, Suga threw his hands out in exasperation, “Well then, what is it?”

“Oh, right!” The brunet fumbled the paper before moving to place it on your dining table to review with your pair. “So the first battle will be the most entertaining as the side by side matches should be--!”

His explanation was cut off by the ringing of bells from the courtyard.

“Another attack?” Suga questioned, not knowing the differences in Camelot’s alarm system since you’d heard it less than a handful of times.

Futakuchi shook his head, “No, it means a visitor. But I have no clue who could be approaching today of all days. Come, you should see who it is with me.”

Your group made it down to the front square of the Castle, only to watch as all of the knight’s you’d slowly begun to know over the course of the week run up to a pair of men riding in on horseback!

“You’ve made it!”

“What took you two so long?”

“Where have you been, idiots? The guests of honor arrived a week before you!”

“With Asahi and Ushijima here we are in for a real tournament!”

“Grand welcome for two of Camelot’s strongest! Welcome back to the castle latecomers.”

Watching the group, you realized the men were as close to one another as Suga and you were with your own band of Knights. You were grateful for the reminder of home, even if it made you miss your friends a bit more.

“Ah, so they really did show up today.” You heard from beside you and turned to face the speaker, “Pardon their inept ability to make proper introductions, Red Knight. The two newcomers are the pair I told you about before. Since they have arrived, I may make them participate in the tournament as punishment for being so late.”

You nodded to the King, indicating you’d heard him before stepping back to let him address his men from a better position atop the stairs.

“Thank you,” He smiled fondly before taking your prior position and screaming out to the men below him, “Ushijima! Asahi! Men!” The knights filed up at the base of the staircase, with the two new arrivals front and center. “Why are you so late?”

“Late?” Asahi asked, “You know, you all keep saying we are late, but we just got these summons a few days ago.”

Ushijima just shrugged and looked bored, “If we are supposedly late, we can just go back to where we were.”

The men around the pair started shouting obscenities at their friends’ casualness. You noted the joking manner between the group of twelve and realized that this kingdom truly did feel like they were in a time of peacefulness after the decades of darkness that befell them.

Looking to Suga, you noticed his eyes trained on the men below, joking and horseplaying as he had with his own companions, and you made a note to show how grateful you were to him once more. He’d left his home and friends to stay beside you, the least you could do is remind him how appreciative you were.

“--wever, the matter at fact is that our guests arrived a week before you. To top that, they fought on our side when the castle was attacked without all her guards in place. So I’ve decided you will join our tournament today, and I will not accept any excuses of being tired from your journey.” The King smiled down to his men. The pair grumbled about how unfair a punishment was being forced on them, the other men just showed excitement at the prospect of their friends joining.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to fight Ushi!”

“Hells ya! Make them fight for their dinner while we’re at it!”

“I wouldn’t mind kicking some sense into the glass hearted giant myself!”

“Woaho! Fight time, let’s go!!”

Even the few not shouting out in pure joy had grins on their faces as they looked to and nodded at one another, all of them ready for what they now perceived to be a perfect tournament.

Waving your hand, you caught Suga’s attention, and holding your fingers up to make a triangle, you told him to ask about the tournament set up.

“Excuse us, King Kuroo.” He approached the royal, “This will probably change your line-up for the tournament?”

“You’re right! Futakuchi!” He yelled, to get the attendant’s attention away from joking around with the men below. “Come, we have to rearrange some things.” After his announcement, the King reentered the castle.

As he passed Futakuchi slowed to ask Suga a question, “How against are you showcasing your magic?”

Suga looked to you for your decision. Since showing magic would be the first test against the King’s ability to truly reconnect with the Order you decided it would be a fine move.

You shrugged your shoulders to indicate you didn’t care either way, leaving it to Suga’s discretion since he too knew of the testing methods.

“If I fight another magician, I don’t mind.” He answered positively.

Futakuchi’s grin overtook his features as he bobbed his head before following after his king.

“You sure like them, don’t you?” You whisper asked your friend.

“Like you don’t?” He laughed back. “If it goes well, perhaps we really can trust this new King and then you can focus on your other mission.”

Behind your shielded mask, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue before answering, “Perhaps you can shut up because no one asked you about that.”

He laughed at your ire, but brought it down to nothing more than a smile seeing the knights climbing the stairs.

“Oh let me introduce you!” Bokuto yelled excitedly seeing your pair atop the staircase. “Ushijima, Asahi, these are the Red Knight representatives. This is Sugawara, the Knight’s squire, and that...well, we just call him the Red Knight, I’ve seemed to have forgotten his name.” The Knight ended up drawing out his introduction as he racked his brain trying to recall it.

“Oh the Red Knight doesn’t mind, we’ve been doing it all week.” Terushima countered, defending his friend’s forgetfulness, and you stifled a laugh as you imagined it was because he too forgot the name you’d chosen to use.

“Wait, you’re Sugawara? From the Order?” A longer haired male asked, stepping from behind the other men to look at your friend closely. After what you guessed was further inspection he grabbed your companion in a tight embrace, “It’s been years! How are you old friend?!” The male shouted in his ears.

You’d moved to unsheath your sword, only to pause at Suga raising his hand towards you.

“It’s okay Yomimasu, I actually think I remember this man.” He finally said once released from the embrace. The taller male backed up and sheepishly scratched at the stubble of hair growing against his jawline. Suga did his own visual study before grinning from ear to ear and giving the man his own version of a soul crushing bear-hug. “Azumane, goor sir. It’s been a long while. Glad to see you’re still alive!”

Hearing the name Suga called, memories flooded your mind of Suga’s friend from the summer years back. A traveling group stayed in a town near your own and the pair met in the forest when Suga was searching for you. After enticing the over-grown child’s help, Suga made fast friends with the boy. Sneaking off himself to go teach him some sword fighting skills and some of the things you’d taught him as well.

“Wait!” Semi interrupted your thoughts and the pair’s reunion. “You two know each other?”

Suga nodded, and Asahi moved to explain, “I stayed a summer nearby to where Suga lived when I was a child. He was the one who taught me to use swords, and his cousin taught us both how to write. Thought I’d never see them again, honestly. What are you doing in Camelot?”

Being questioned, Suga fell back into his more reserved mannerisms, “Of course, I am here as escort to the Red Knight as the Order has sent us to determine if Camelot is worthy of being considered an ally once more.”

The official reason for your visit.

It still angered you that it was your only excuse, that you weren’t meant to share your other reasons. But things were the way they were, and thus you stayed silent, watching the encounter from the sidelines.

“What are you doing as a knight of Camelot? I thought only those in some roundabout way related to the King’s lineage were accepted as knights?” Suga questioned.

“Oh, Kuroo did away with that rule long before he even became King. Quoting about how men should be fighter’s by their merit not their bloodlines.” Yamagata informed your pair.

Aone got a disgusted look on his face that made you want to laugh out, but you swallowed the feeling, he asked, “Did you think we were all somehow related?”

Suga glanced at you, and you did nothing to indicate your own thoughts of the matter, he sighed in defeat and answered, “Well not recently, but yes I felt your family trees must have connected somewhere down the line to the King’s.”

The group of men before him burst into fits of laughter as they regarded the idea and its apparent absurdity.

“What of your cousin? How does the Princess fair?” Asahi questioned, changing topics to try and save his friend some embarrassment.

“Cousin?” Daichi guffawed.

“Princess?” Atsumu and Osamu blurted out simultaneously.

Your body went stiff at Asahi’s question and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and tell your mind that they weren’t actually calling to you.

Suga grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world as he answered his old friend’s question, “She’s happier than she’s ever been, last time I saw her.”

He turned to reenter the castle, probably to return to your room, but you weren’t sure. You were going to follow him but stopped dead in your tracks as Bokuto, Satori, Terushima and Atsumu all followed after him, asking so many questions over one another even you couldn’t make any of them out.

“So who are you?” A tall man, with short dark hair turned to you. He felt like he’d probably be more intimidating than Aone, but as you were currently sporting a full suit of armor, and held a secret that none in Camelot, save your own friend, knew, you didn’t actually feel frightened.

Daichi and Iwaizumi both stepped between your figure and the large knight, hands up defensively.

“Actually, Ushijima, while in uniform the Knight cannot speak. It’s a little challenging, but we’ve managed pretty well this past week. It’s easier to ask simple questions.” Daichi informed, and you appreciated the complete switch in the knight’s attitudes since you’d first arrived.

Iwaizumi nodded, “The letter you received should have detailed the purpose of their visit, Futa did a great job explaining everything in ours at least. We did a shite job of first impressions the night they arrived and yet he still helped us defend Camlot’s castle. The Red Knight is good people, trust us on that in the very least.”

It amazed you how much the male reminded you of your old childhood acquaintance. You wished you’d know the boy better to tell if he was the same man for sure, but alas, only Oikawa would have known...And, it’d been years since you’d seen him either. You felt the tear roll down your cheek before realizing you’d started to cry at the recollection. Closing your eyes you let your mind settle on nothingness to rid it of the negative memories regarding your ex-friend.

“Then perhaps you can answer simple yes or no questions?” The giant, presumably Ushijima questioned you. Upon seeing you nod, he hummed before continuing, “Are you really only here to see if Camelot can reconnect with your Order?”

While you knew how Suga would want you to respond, you also knew it wouldn’t be truthful. It’d been a long week developing trust with the members of Camelot’s court, and you the only way to keep that streak would be to stay honest. You shook your head in the negative.

Ignoring the shocked exclamations of the men around him, your interrogator continued. “Do you wish to bring Camelot or Kuroo harm?”

You stood at attention and shook your head once more, expressing clear displeasure at the mere idea.

The male hummed before bowing out of his inquisition, “I see. I look forward to getting to know you then.”

Watching him move inside the castle, you stayed where you were in anticipation of the other’s questions to follow your first answer.

“Aye, you weren’t being serious in having another motive, were you?” Osamu questioned, looking at you with disbelief dancing in his eyes.

You just bowed your head in apology.

“Does Sugawara know of your other mission?” Daichi questioned further.

You thought for a moment before rocking your hand side-to-side in front of you, telling the knights he kind of knew a bit about it, but entirely.

Semi shook his head and stepped forward, a frown clear on his face as he tried to find your eyes hidden in the shadows of your helmet, “Have you deceived us?”

His voice sounded so angry, almost threateningly so, but you knew you couldn’t answer that question without Suga by your side to explain. Thankfully you didn’t have to.

“Oi!” King Kuroo yelled from one of the windows overlooking the front gate. “Get to the main hall for review of the schedule!”

“In a minute!” Semi yelled back, still looking you up and down distrustingly.

Kuroo didn’t like this attitude in his knight’s defiance and yelled back, “Now!” Then laughed as he added, “Or no supper for any of the knights, Semi!”

The silver haired male tsk’d in annoyance before rushing inside.

“We trust you,” A voice called your attention from watching the others follow after him. “Not sure why it’s such a strong trust, but we do.” Aone looked at you directly, unbeknownst to him catching your eyes’ gaze with ease. “Don’t betray us.”

What could you do but bow in a show of understanding and acceptance. You really didn’t wish to betray them, and should they discover your secret in a manner not befitting your true identity, then the power will lie with them to do with you as they please.

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Table of contents:

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

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