#but uh. content warning for pretty much everything in graphic detail

[busysavingtheuniverse]

percy jackson tv show with five twenty-episode seasons, one per book, animated in the spiderverse/arcane/blue eye samurai style so that both the fantastical elements are in full form and the landmarks are recognizable, a period piece set in the 2000s that takes itself seriously and lets the plot points and characterization breathe for like three minutes while also elevating the original text like the live action... i'm sorry you'll never exist </3

[kalcifers-blog]

MAG 114209: The IRIS of The Eye

A JSE Ego x TMA Crossover fanfic

Content Warning!! Discussions of violence, self inflicted injury and insinuation of suicidal behaviour. Nothing is in graphic detail, but please stay safe while reading!!

[Tape Recorder clicks]

The Archivist: (sighs) Alright, let's try this again shall we-

Chase Brody: oh for fu- is that really necessary? Why do you people all insist on recording people??

The Archivist: oh- sorry this is just- procedure. It's kind of my job to make sure statements are recorded properly- unless you don't- want- to make a statement?

Chase: (interrupted the last sentence) No- no. I'm sorry- I just- I need to do this I think. I'm not exactly sure what this place is but... I think- somethin' tells me that this is the place to get this out there somehow

The Archivist: I see.. well. Whenever you're ready, we can begin

Chase: (deep breath) okay. Yeah I'm ready.

The Archivist: Alright. Statement of Chase Brody regarding the entity referred to as ALTR 114209. Statement taken directly from sub- from Mr. Brody himself. Statement overseen and recorded by Jonathan Sims. The Archivist. Statement begins:

Chase: [statement]

I feel like I can't really talk about this without some context first? I grew up in Ireland- you- you probably already guessed that because of the accent- but yeah. I'm from Ireland. My life there was miserable. I grew up in a small town. One of those classic "everyone knows everyone" schticks. Mostly because my Ma insisted on going to the local church to do all her socialising- I went there too consistently 'til she passed. I was 15 at the time.

Before she did I was convinced I wanted her out of my life, we never got along- I'm not saying that I completely change my mind now it's just- when someone like that leaves your life forever you start thinking about "what could have been" far more often. When she did pass I knew I wanted out- I needed to get away so I saved up my scraps of money to go to college in Britain. Maybe I wanted to get away or run from my feelings- I just. The way everyone would look at me, knowing what I was going through, giving me these- disgusting looks of pity- I needed out. I needed a get away.

So I moved. My Father didn't care too much, the man was out half the time for work and when he wasn't his hand was glued to his ale. I told myself I wouldn't end up like that- miserable sack of shit but- (chuckles sadly) I- I guess things don't always go to plan, huh?

Anyway- My life did start turnin' around when I got to the UK. The college I went too was pretty mediocre but the people I met were some of the most incredible- the person who changed my life forever in ways I couldn't have ever imagined was Jack.

Jack was my first friend- after realising we where both Irish and kinda had a really uncanny similarity to us, everyone always joked that we had to be twins because of how similar we looked. Despite the fact I'm nearly four years older than him- anyway uh- he got me into gaming.

I'd played games before of course but, this was the first time I played proper video games, especially the horror games, my Ma tried convincin me anything to do with horror was born out of evil and well- actually playing them for the first time was really eye opening as to how stupid that idea was.

I know this all sounds like useless information but I promise it's important- what you need to know is that Jack was my best friend. He introduced me to things that would be some of my favourite things ever, he was there when I got with and broke up with my first boyfriend and through everything, all of those disgusting sides of how bad my mental health got, Jack was one of the only ones who stuck by my side. So when he asked me to be his editor when his YouTube career took off I didn't think twice about saying yes.

I don't think I need to tell you about the successful YouTuber Jacksepticeye- and how he's the largest ever YouTuber from Ireland- how he managed to accumulate millions of subscribers before his disappearance on Halloween of 2016.

Of course, now I know that video that was put up on his channel that wasn't uploaded by me or him and definitely wasn't edited by myself wasn't actually a fake.

No one knew what to make of "Say Goodbye" when it first released. For me I was confused- Jack obviously can edit videos on his own, in fact its pretty common for him to do so- but he always lets me know if he does. There's never been an occasion in which he didn't in the entire time I was working for him. So when that video dropped with no warning I immediately felt off about it.

I won't tell you what happened in that video. You don't need to hear the details of Jack seemingly hurting himself to the point that he was placed in a medically induced coma- I was watching the video itself when I got the call- his doctor- German if I had to guess from his accent, calling me to let me know and to ask me some questions, due to the nature of his injury.

I don't care who comes in to tell you. Jack did not try to kill himself. I refuse to believe he ever would. Jack like I mentioned, was more than my boss, he was my closest friend and we told each other everything. There was just. Nothing. Not a single thing to indicate in his life that he would ever want to hurt himself like that.

I ended up staying in contact with the German doctor, his name's Henrik Schneeplestien- really nice actually. And it was talking to him that I got an email from Jack's account. Not his business "Jacksepticeye" account- his personal one, the one I knew he used exclusively for things that where for his personal life.

When I got that email my blood froze over. It was a video. It was that video. But it was longer. There was more to it. Instead of Jack's body lying there- lifeless and bleeding out. It jerked. It jerked upwards- like his muscles and joints where all connected to strings and being hoisted up against his will, like a fucking puppet.

The thing wearing Jacks dying body laughed. It laughed tormenting us- Henrik started believeing me after watching it with me the first time.

I'll spare you the details of how my life derailed after that. The months of waiting for Jack to wake up. Of Henrik losing his mind trying to understand what's going on. The disappearance of both Jack's body and Henrik himself. Me finding the most beautiful woman on the planet and finally feeling like a person again with her. Only for her and our child to be ripped away from me by that fucking thing that insisted on destroying everything in my life that gave living meaning.

Every time something bad happened it was there, still wearing Jack's face. Puppeting him around with this wicked smirk it had some crude inside joke I wasn't apart of.

I lost everything. My friend was gone, my wife and child where dead, the only person who ever cared to hear me out was missing and to top it all off I had some demon wannabe kicking my skull into rock bottom. Just so I knew that my misery wasn't over.

I had enough. I drove myself to a forest, it was our favourite place to go to as a family in the short 3 years we got to be a family. I wasn't planning on leaving that day. I decided then and there that I wasn't having it anymore. I was done. That thing won. I gave in and I just wanted it to be over.

I still can't tell you what happened to me. But I was in the forest one second and the next I was on top of a parking garage miles away. Whatever happened to me, I knew it was the only weird thing that wasn't brought to me because of that fucking monster. I still don't know what- but I just. I just KNOW alright. I just. Know.

Anyway, not long after that I'm detained by IRIS. Your institute already have all the information you need on that fucking place. I was there for questioning about what happened to me that day. And my experiences with the thing thats been destroying my life. There wasn't anything more to say other than what I've already told you.

They where about to put me under "special containment" dragging me against my will further in the building. The whole building felt like it was screaming at me to leave- that something bad was going to happen- I wished I was wrong.

That thing came back. It was still wearing my friends face and it killed any and all workers that came close to it. All it said to me was "hello, Chase" before I blacked out. I don't remember how I somehow managed to wake up in London- or how this nagging voice in my brain told me to come here. I don't know what "ALTR 114209" is, why it decided I was going to be it's plaything or what it even is. I just....

I just need someone to know that this thing is out there and more people will die if IRIS continues the way it has done for years now.

[Statement Ends]

Chase: (deep sigh) Jesus- I- How'd you- how did you get me to do that-

The Archivist: trust me, that's a long story- I just. I'm sorry are you insinuating that IRIS is somehow- responsible? For the actions of this entity?

Chase: yeah I thought I made that pretty fucking obvious man. IRIS has done nothing but hide the truth from me, borderline torture me and do absolute jack shit when something bad happens to anyone- including their own workers mind you.

The Archivist: Okay well... Fair enough. But please be cautious, if IRIS is behind all of this. You don't want to talk about it here, not in a place like this

Chase: oh just because your boss is watching doesn't mean I have to worry about him snitching to the SCP ripoff

The Archivist: wait- what did you jus- how did you- do you. (Whispering) Do you know that Elias Bouchard is listening and can see everyone in the building- there's no way for you to of....

The Archivist: Oh..... I see.. Chase I- I think I know why you might be a target-

Chase: (quietly) wh.. what- what do you mean by that..?

The Archivist: let me get you a drink. This will take a long time to explain.

[Tape Recorder clicks off]

That's all!! Thank you SM if you read through this, I'm very new to writing fanfic so I hope that this is alright!! A lot of people really liked the idea of a crossover between JSE lore and TMA so of course I had to write up how I imagine Chase Brody's Statement.

Again thank you SM for all the support and I hope to get some more drawing/writing done soon!! <333

[acanthodii-phobia]

hey sorry if this is so sudden but i’ve been feeling so down lately and can i just get the turtles comfort reader (they/them pls) bc they think they can’t do anything right? rottmnt as well pls

Of course! :) And I'm sorry you haven't been in the best place recently.. I hope the turtles and I can help ease your thoughts a little. Things will get better, and many things in your life will change over time - the bad is only temporary that way, even if it doesn't feel like it. Right now you're at your strongest, and I now you can and will get through it!

We believe in you. 🐢🐢🐢🐢

(RoTTMNT) Comfort Oneshots X GenderNeutral!Reader PT. 1

Each turtle bro. will focus on something a little different, but overall still what you requested. I hope that's alright. ^^ These are slightly longer than my other posts, so these oneshots will be split amongst two posts. Leo and Raph are in pt. 1, Donnie and Mikey are in pt. 2!

•

Content Warning: The topics discussed won't go into graphic detail, but if you feel like you would get upset by reading about topics dealing with depression or negative thoughts, please do not read for your own care.

•

One-shots will contain:

Y/N - Your Name

Leo:

[Comfort for feeling inadequate, worthless, uneeded & request.]

- They were crying in Leo's bedroom.

- The perfect place, they thought, for some time away from everyone. Y/N knew they were supposed to just be enjoying themselves and having fun; but they couldn't stop that irritating feeling.

- Those reoccurring thoughts of not being needed. Or wanted. The possibility of screwing everything up, and losing everyone they cared about... and it would've just been a waste of their time. Y/N just wasting everyone's time.

- The last thing they wanted was to bring down everyone's night only because of the terrible mood they were in.

- So here they were. Tucked away in the corner of Leo's bed, hugging a pillow and crying. In the dark. While the others were out there completely clueless.

- At least, that's what Y/N thought.

- Leo comes in a few minutes later searching for Y/N, while making unintentionally insensitive and boastful comments about him being better (nothing directed specifically at Y/N, though).

- Hearing Leo's comments makes Y/N cry more, and the moment he sees them he immediately rushes to their side, trying to comfort them and apologising profusely.

- He had a full grin before, expecting Y/N to reply back with another joke, but seeing them like this hurt him in a way he hadn't really felt before.

- "Hey, hey," he reaches out and holds Y/N face. He doesn't force them to look at him though - he just wants them to know he's there. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry. You know... you're just as good of a player as I am - I didn't realise you were taking Mario Monopoly so seriously."

- They shake their head, breathing deeply as they try to calm down.

- "I'm not upset over Monopoly, Leon, but thank you."

- He's confused. "Then... then why are you crying?"

- "I've just been having a lot of... uh, negative thoughts recently."

- Y/N explains how they feel inferior to him and his brothers, but specifically to Leo. They see Leo as this 'flawless, charming, and a jack-of-all-trades' kind of guy. Even though he can be occasionally rude without realising it, he's still so loved by his family and friends.

- "You're just," their breath is shaky as they push their hair back. "...so perfect. You do everything right, and even the times when you do mess up... no one hates you. I feel like I can't do anything right - I'm awkward and can't tell my left from right occasionally. You're important and valued by those who care about you, you're talented and..."

- "...I feel like I can't compete. I'm nothing like that, and I'm so envious of you." Y/N confesses, wiping their face with their sleeve.

- Leo is stunned - he didn't know they felt like this at all. His eyes never leave Y/N - his hands slowly drifting from their face - contemplating on his next move.

- He's not really 'good' at this sort of thing, but because it's Y/N, he wants to do more than just listen. Leo cautiously takes hold of the pillow that Y/N was gripping onto, and places it beside him.

- Leo then pulls Y/N closer to him, hugging them tightly.

- "You're valued by me," he whispers to them. "What you can or can't do... doesn't define your worth. Nothing can really define that. You existing and doing your best is worth enough." Leo leans back and smiles reassuringly. "...And I mess up a lot, too. I'm imperfect just like you, and that is always okay. And you know I'm never wrong~"

- He chuckles as he presses his forehead against Y/N's, reaching up slightly so his snout touches their nose and rubs them together affectionately. Y/N smiles.

- "Thanks... Leon."

Raph:

[Comfort for feeling insecure about vulnerability, thinking they should be stronger/ move on & request.]

- Y/N was watching Raph train in the dojo, admiring his strength and skills from the sideline, perched ontop of some extra mats. They had to admit, that despite his size he was very nimble and fairly noiseless on his feet. His brute force was more than expected, though.

- The guy's built like a tank - It's a very dangerous combo.

- But compared to him, Y/N was pretty clusmy and much weaker than him.

- They do their best to ignore the thoughts that come to their mind, but it was of no use. They weren't strong enough to protect themselves, nevertheless them... what were they supposed to do if they needed Y/N's help? They felt inferior to him.

- But Y/N keeps smiling as Raph shows off.

- However, he caught on quickly - he's able to tell that Y/N's smile isn't 100% genuine. He stops what he's doing immediately and faces them.

- "Hey, Shorty. You got somethin' on your mind?"

- Y/N is caught off guard. "Oh, uh... no. It's nothing."

- Raph looks at them doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

- They nod, denying it in fear of being vulnerable and being shunned away for saying otherwise. Raph gives them one last look before going back to his training.

- Eventually, Y/N quietly retreats from the dojo and runs just a bit outside of the lair to clear their mind. Everything is good for a moment, but they soon start hyperventilating and panicking.

- "What am I doing? Gosh, you look so stupid right now, why can't you control yourself? Calm down... breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe you idiot." They grip onto their shirt, breathing deeply, but it only works them up more.

- It wasn't long until it became difficult to breathe - their chest was tight and their lungs felt shriveled up and blocked off, like they just couldn't get any air in no matter how hard they tried. Tears start falling down their face.

- Raph tracks them down quickly, thanks to his brothers. Deep down, he knew Y/N needed someone right now. Anyone.

- But he really wants it to be him.

- "No, no, you guys just stay here! Everything's fine, I just need to find them. We'll back in a minute!"

- The moment he sees Y/N, his heart stops. There's a deep, weirdly empty feeling of dread that washes over him. He runs to their side without another thought, and does his best to guide them through it. He holds their hands in his, and rubs the back of them with his thumbs, whispering to them.

- "Y/N... it's okay. It's okay." He lets go of one their hands and holds the side of their face. "You're doing great... can you try some breathing exercises with me? Everything will be okay, I promise."

- They're still gripping onto their chest, crying, heaving deeply and erratically as Raph asks this, but the only thing Y/N does is nod.

- "Good," he assures them, smiling. "Now... do your best to follow me, okay? First, pinch your nose and close your mouth, bite your lip if you have to. You're going to hold your breath for a few seconds to start."

- "Perfect - you're doing great, Y/N! Now, breathe in deep through your mouth," Raph does it with them, nodding. "Good, and release through your nose."

- Once Y/N was back to a regular breathing, Raph asks them to explain what was going on, and he wasn't going to take "nothing" as an answer this time.

- Y/N stares up at him, wiping their tear-soaked face, and reluctantly states that they were scared of Raph seeing them being weak and vulnerable, and wanted to be seen as "cool" and strong like Raph is.

- "I didn't want you to hate me..." they lower their head, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Almost immediately, they start panicking again. "Wait, oh gosh," they heave in deeply as they try to focus on anything, raising their arms instinctively - their surroundings blurring together as their mind races. "No, I'm sorry... you can't see me like this, I'm going to mess things up again like I always do, I-" Y/N tries to run away as the tears build up again, but Raph grabs their arm and pulls them back.

- "Y/N".

- He is very, very gentle with them, talking to them in a low voice. But he wasn't going to let them keep running off and avoiding him.

- "Please look at me." They try, with some struggle. "You are not messing anything up. It is okay to cry, to be vulnerable, and openly express how you feel. I'm... worried to find out who made you scared like this. You don't ever deserve to feel like that, Y/N.

- And you are strong, Y/N - your worth is never going to be based on how much you can lift or break with your fists. Your strength may or may not be in physical strength, but you being here with me - right now - your existence proves you are strong," He brings them into a hug, embracing them snugly. "In a lot of ways, that is much stronger than any physical strength I have, and I am so proud of you."

- He holds their head against him, reveling in the feeling of having them so close to him. He closes his eyes, gently leaning some of his weight onto them.

- "Thank you, Raph."

•

Thank you for requesting. :) I hope you enjoyed!

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[killalluchihas]

good vibes/bad juju - 51

While on a mission overseas, Gojo gets K-O'd by an unknown person. Within a week, every sorcerer in Japan has heard about it. (A JJK OC story - Rated M, Graphic Violence)

[Chapter One] [Ao3 link] [Previous] [Next]

—/—/—/—

chapter fifty-one: a gentle simmer it's actually quite comfortable content warning: mentions of past graphic violence

—/— [Wednesday, 6:30 AM EST] —/—

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” he says, apologetic but firm through the speaker. He isn’t anything less than Wendy expects, steady and stoic no matter the circumstances. “But even if I had the details, I wouldn’t be able to share them.”

Wendy drums her nails against the sink countertop, unable to tamp down on her nervousness. “I know,” she sighs, setting her phone down. “And it’s useless to worry about it, I can’t do anything anyway.”

Nanami is quiet on the other end for a while, and Wendy fills the time by reluctantly slapping on some face cream and silently willing the red bump on her cheek to not become acne. It’s definitely just a freckle.

“Not everything we do must be practical,” Nanami says eventually. “But even so—worrying about Yoshi is certainly useful, because I doubt she remembers to worry for herself.”

There is an unmistakable ache in her chest as Wendy thinks about that. “Of course she doesn’t,” she scoffs, mustering a smile as she peers at her reflection. No one can see her right now, but there’s always someone to convince. “Her memory’s crap, you know that,” she jokes, though it lands flat.

“…I also think you don’t worry for yourself very much,” Nanami continues softly. “How are you doing, Wendy?”

“Me?” This time Wendy laughs for real, scooping up her phone as she tiptoes into her mother’s kitchen. Aunt Mari is a great cook, but Wendy was beginning to feel like a leech, so she’s staying with her mom for now. “Ah, c’mon on, there’s nothing to say from my end. Everything’s fine over here.”

“But are you alright?” he asks. “You went through a lot in Germany. Has the bruising gotten any better?”

Wendy sighs. Of course he’s fretting over a few bruises.

Judging by how colorful she is now, the bruises are healing, but it’s not a pretty process. The worst one is an enormous greenish-purple blotch on her thigh. And it wasn’t even due to a curse or a person attacking her—when Wendy yanked Nanami out of the inn and mistakenly teleported them into a janitor’s closet, he’d fallen on top of her, and rammed his knee against her leg. It was such a stupid way to get injured, but Wendy can’t complain when other civilians came out of that attack missing a few limbs.

Wendy can’t complain about anything, not when she’s always been so lucky.

“Everything’s healing,” she answers simply.

“I hope it hasn’t caused any problems for you…”

She hums, eyeing the finger marks wrapped over her forearm before pulling the sleeve back down. “It looks bad, but most people out here know to mind their business.” The only ones that would notice and be upset about it are Danica and Mariko, so she’s kept to wearing long-sleeved shirts around them. To steer away from that topic, Wendy adds, “I’m kinda anemic anyway! I have, uh, low iron—any bump will leave a bruise. There’s nothing to do except wait for them to fade. Unless you want to send me a gift basket,” she suggests slyly. “I wouldn’t say no to another fruit bouquet.”

“…Another one? Who’s sending you fruit bouquets?”

“Gojo,” she tattles at once. Wendy smirks to herself as she rummages through the fridge for leftovers. “He didn’t tell you, huh? He visited me on Monday and made Aunt Mari cry,” she informs Nanami. “That’s Yoshi’s mom. He sent a giant arrangement of fruit and chocolate afterwards!”

“That’s… I’m sorry about him,” he sighs, sounding like he’s just aged ten years from the mention of the strongest sorcerer. Wendy hums, smothering down her amusement. “Is she alright?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Mari just got overwhelmed. Gojo was probably expecting someone more like Yoshi.” Stretching onto her tiptoes, Wendy sets a plate of food in the microwave to heat it, huffing. “Where the hell is the step stool?” she gripes, looking around the empty kitchen.

“It’s very early for you, isn’t it?” Nanami comments. “What do you need a step stool for?”

She huffs again. “Well it’s either a step stool or I start climbing the countertops. I’m trying to eat.” Then an idea occurs to her. Wendy presses the phone to her ear, listening to the background noises from Nanami’s end. “And it’s late for you, right? Still working?”

“No, I got home a few minutes before you called.”

Wendy smiles. “How’s your night going? Have you eaten dinner yet?” she asks. There’s no step stool to be found, and her mom is still asleep, so Wendy ends up sitting up on the linoleum counter to look at the microwave properly.

There’s shuffling noises from his end, squeaks and thumps that might be from his own kitchen. “I’m preparing that now. Um. Today was slow for me.” He pauses again. A drawer slides shut, and cutlery clinks against itself. He continues frankly, “There’s nothing about my work that I’d enjoy discussing right now.”

“Thennn tell me about something else,” Wendy coaxes him. “I’m eating leftover falafel for breakfast. What about you?”

“I…” It isn’t the first time she’s caught him off-guard, but it never fails to amuse her. “Soba noodles. It’s quick.”

Wendy hums encouragingly. “Turn on your camera.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can see what you’re cooking,” she says innocently. “Here, I’ll do it.”

“Wait—”

She hangs up and immediately starts a video chat. It rings twice, and then the call connects with a blurry image of a brightly-lit ceiling. The lighting is warm and buttery, and a crystalline lampshade casts a sharp reflection into the camera lens. Wendy thinks his light fixture probably costs more than half the appliances in Danica Matherson’s kitchen, but all she says is, “You have to aim the camera at yourself, Nanami.”

“I know that,” he says in a harried voice, still out of frame. Wendy hops down from the counter with her plate, and props up her phone on the kitchen table. “I don’t think I can cook and hold the phone, so, um…”

The screen goes dark and then light again, and Nanami finally appears, balancing the phone somewhere on his kitchen counter in front of a stovetop. “Does this work?” he asks.

“There you are,” she beams, taking in the silly sight. Half of his face is cut off when he stands upright, but she can see his torso, and the two buttons undone on his collared shirt. The pot clangs noisily against the grating on the stovetop as he pokes at it, and then Nanami hunches over to peer at his phone. Oh god, it’s the best view Wendy’s had all week.

“Hello,” he says shortly. His hair is a bit messed up, tangled over his forehead. “Good morning?”

Oh, she loves how shy he can get with her. “Mm. Good evening,” Wendy replies softly. “You look good.”

Nanami blinks twice, brow furrowed ever so slightly. It’s easier to see the emotion on his face without those glasses on. “Thank you.” He retreats from the phone and glues his attention to the soba noodle pot. “You’re wearing long sleeves in summer,” he adds neutrally.

Her delight in the moment evaporates like dew in midday, but Wendy drags up her cheer anyway, determined. “Should I take off my clothes so you can get a good look at me?” she fires back, basking in the startled expression that briefly crosses his face. The video is a little grainy, but the way his hand tightens around the cooking pot handle, the sharp exhale of breath as his shoulders lower—Wendy enjoys every second of it. He’s lovely.

“You’re on the other side of the world,” Nanami mumbles, shaking his head in disapproval. “Please take this seriously, Wendy.”

Thinking she’s teased him enough, Wendy doesn’t tell him that she was perfectly serious about stripping for his perusal. “I don’t want to think about Germany,” she says instead. “So—tell me about your soba dinner. I’m not a fan of buckwheat, I like eggy noodles and pastas.”

Nanami tosses her an exasperated look, but replies, “These are wheat flour, actually.”

He’s such a dork, and she adores it more and more each time. “Okay then, Chef Nanami, what else is on the menu? Please tell me you don’t eat unseasoned wheat flour noodles.”

Nanami actually stops stirring to look directly at the screen again. “I would rather starve,” he deadpans. Then he picks up a small condiment bowl to show her. “No, first of all I already have ginger and soy sauce here to put in…”

Wendy grins again, and doesn’t stop grinning for the rest of the morning while Nanami talks about his evening with her. Her good finally disappears for good much later, when Yoshi finally gets around to messaging her about the attack at Jujutsu Tech.

—/— [Wednesday, 9:30 PM JST] —/—

Yoshi has to give them credit. After answering a few variations of ‘Are you okay?’ she isn’t hounded by the first year students for more information. Instead, Nobara and Yuji ordered food on her behalf at some point, and had it delivered to her door. It was a sweet gesture, until it became clear that Nobara bullied Gojo out of his credit card for it, and that they all intended to eat dinner with her.

It’s still nice of them, but Yoshi’s apartment isn’t very large—Gojo ends up without a seat at the table, so he’s just moping in the kitchen while Yoshi talks to the students about the bird lady.

“I don’t recognize any of the names,” Yoshi admits after she’s read them aloud from her phone. The bird lady’s benefactors are council members, and that’s all Yoshi knows. “Except that one ‘Kamo’ so I assume that’s a relative of the Kyoto student...” It’s a shame. Yoshi’s fond of the Kyoto student, and would’ve liked to know more about his weird blood technique. Truth be told, Noritoshi’s physic-bending arrows had still been on her mind when she attacked that tree curse.

“I’m surprised there’s no Zenins involved,” Nobara pipes up, wiping her hands on a napkin. From the kitchen, Yoshi can hear Gojo opening and closing the cabinets out of boredom. She feels like she should offer him food, but surely she doesn’t need to remind him. On the other hand, Yoshi hasn’t seen Gojo eat anything at all, and she was with him for the majority of the day.

“Just because they didn’t directly fund Mei doesn’t mean they aren’t involved,” Megumi points out cynically. “Maybe that’s why Naoya decided to visit, to watch it happen.”

“Nah,” Yoshi dismisses that easily. “I’m sure he didn’t know. He already lost half an ear to me, and I promised to take more if he did more.”

Yuji chokes on his drink, and the other two students bristle. “Sensei,” Yuji coughs out, “Remind me to never cross you.”

“Did you have to bite it off?” Megumi grimaces.

Yoshi grunts, crossing her arms. “He got the message, so yeah.”

Behind her, another cabinet swings shut noisily. “Just as a side note, the Zenin head doesn’t want the same things as his heir. But I’m not sure he’s on Team Kill Yoshi, though,” Gojo muses. She hears him crack open a can. “You’re running out of soda, by the way.”

Yoshi tries to turn her head to him, but stops halfway when it tugs on her bandage. That’s the one junk food item she actually bought for herself. “If you drink it all you need to replace it,” she complains, though it’s half-hearted. She never got the time to buy rum anyway.

“What team are the Zenins on, then?” Yuji wonders, slurping noodles.

“I think there’s some Zenins that wouldn’t mind getting their hands on Yoshi’s technique,” Gojo says, meandering back towards them. Her chair shifts forward as he leans against it. “Or just Yoshi.”

It takes a moment, but then his implication clicks into place. “Gross.” Yoshi frowns. “Let’s go back to talking about the ones that want me dead.”

Nobara pulls a face of disgust in solidarity. “Agreed.”

“Why do all these jujutsu sorcerers hate you anyway?” Yuuji asks, brow furrowed. “What’s so bad about seals and talismans?”

“Nothing,” Megumi answers before Yoshi can open her mouth. “We use all sorts of talismans at the school.”

Gojo continues lightly, “But Yoshi’s skills are at a much higher level than any other sorcerer’s.” He pats her cheek suddenly, making Yoshi flinch. “Who knows how many scribbles she can fit in her head?”

She slaps his hand away and returns to her meal. “It is what it is.”

“That’s dumb,” Nobara adds promptly. “It’s no different from having a strong cursed technique. If they killed anyone with a power they didn’t understand, we’d run out of sorcerers.”

The voice that speaks next is out of place. A ragged and low tone. “Oh, but they do understand it.”

Yoshi glances up, perplexed. Megumi and Nobara are both looking at their pink-haired classmate. He’s… grown a second mouth. Yuji sits up and promptly slaps himself in the face. Gojo snorts.

Before Yoshi can make sense of any of that, the back of Yuuji’s hand splits with two lines. Another mouth emerges from his skin, followed by a deep red eye. In a low and gravelly tone, it speaks one word.

“Kusumoto.”

It feels like a trickle of ice water down her back. Not the name, but the idea of who’s saying it. Yoshi pulls her gaze away from the hand-eye to look at Yuji instead.

“I’m trying to eat,” she tells him sternly. “Put that away.”

Yuji looks at her like she’s the one growing extra body parts, which is a little rude. “Uh, right…” He lifts up his hand, clearly having no idea of what to do about it. “Maybe…”

Just as Yuji raises a spoonful of fried rice, the eye and mouth melt back into his skin.

Nobara snorts. “Were you about to spoon-feed him?”

Yuji shrugs. (Yes, he definitely was.)

“My oh my,” Gojo sips on his soda, leaning between Yoshi and Megumi. “You’ve really done it now, Yosh. Even the King is smitten.”

“Ew,” Megumi grumbles, throwing Gojo an annoyed look.

Yoshi recoils a bit. “I hope he’s on Team Kill Yoshi,” she mutters.

“I’m sorry about him,” Yuji blurts out. “I can hear him in my head sometimes, but he usually doesn’t just come out like that!"

He’s such a strange kid. Yoshi hums. “If all he does is eavesdrop and interrupt conversations, that’s fine by me.” Just being able to survive after eating a cursed object is an incredible feat. She doesn’t expect Yuji to suppress a legendary demon curse thing—or whatever it is that they classify Sukuna as—indefinitely. Sooner or later, any vessel will reach its breaking point.

“Is he still eavesdropping?” Nobara asks, eyes narrowed. “Can you tell?”

Yuji grimaces. “It’s like he’s—awake, I guess.”

“Kusumoto…” Megumi repeats the name, curious, but then he falls silent instead of asking about it.

I must really look like shit, Yoshi concludes. Otherwise Megumi would be more pissed off, and she’d have no peace at all tonight.

“Wait,” Nobara exclaims, looking between the boys. “What’s with those dumb faces? You guys don’t know about the Kusumotos? Like at all?”

“No,” Megumi’s frown deepens. “Why do you know it?”

“My grandmother,” she says bluntly. “It’s one of her rants, she’s never liked the jujutsu council. The Kusumoto school was destroyed, and the council let it happen because they didn’t like their practices. They were extremists or something...” Nobara glances at Yoshi, askance, and then begins to explain.

Yoshi lets her speak, and isn’t surprised when Nobara repeats the same vague story that most jujutsu sorcers seem to know. The madman, the slaughtered, and the inaction of the council.

“...All that happened way before any of us were born, so I didn’t think Yoshi had any connection to it,” the girl concludes. “Buuut I guess that’s wrong. Unless the King of Curses just woke up to spout some spooky nonsense at us.”

Yuji grunts, rubbing his temple. “I wish.”

Yoshi wishes she could finish her noodles instead of dealing with this, but that would be unfair. Today wasn’t just hard for her, but for the students too.

“The Kusumotos were founded in the Heian period. That’s why that guy recognized it,” Yoshi begins, rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders. “The actual Kusumoto scholars died in that massacre, but the jujutsu council didn’t oversee the clean up. You're missing the fact that there were survivors. They just weren’t sorcerers.”

Megumi and Nobara exchange puzzled looks, but Yuji catches on. “I guess it’d be your mom, right? You said she taught you.”

Yoshi pauses, resisting the urge to frown. She genuinely doesn’t recall telling him that. “Yes,” she confirms. "My mom isn't a sorcerer, she just has enough cursed energy to see curses."

“They raised kids in the temple?” Megumi asks sharply.

“I thought the Kusumotos weren’t a clan,” Nobara says, baffled. “The jujutsu order keeps an eye on clan kids.”

“They weren’t,” Yoshi agrees tiredly. “The Kusumotos didn’t need successors with the same blood, just people that could learn. A community that would sustain itself. They registered as a group home and took in foster kids.”

It was a fluke, really. Sheer luck. Mariko was so young at the time of the massacre, she hadn't shown any signs of cursed energy yet. The police that handled the aftermath sent her off to a normal hospital, and no one ever came looking for her.

“Civilian kids?” Megumi balks. “That’s forbidden, the jujutsu order—”

“Has no jurisdiction over entities outside the order,” Gojo speaks over him, patting Megumi’s head roughly. “And the Kusumoto school never overstepped by letting non-sorcerers leave with jujutsu knowledge.”

“Oh,” Yuji says lowly. “So when people say it was a cult…”

“It was a cult,” Yoshi repeats emphatically. “They did whatever they wanted. The talismans I make are based on their sutras, collated over hundreds of years by creeps that studied a lot of weird and nasty shit just because they could.” She gestures back at Yuji apologetically, and concludes, “Including Ryoumen Sukuna’s cursed techniques. Someone in the fifteenth or sixteenth century was a huge fan, I guess.”

And it’s revolting. Even now, turning inward to look for that knowledge makes Yoshi nauseous.

“Well,” Nobara huffs at last. “No wonder you freak out the grandpas so much. They really thought you all died off. Why’d your mom teach you all that nasty stuff?”

Yoshi eyes her. "We're not going to talk about my mom," she tells the girl evenly.

"But—!" Nobara catches herself. "Okay yeah, not our business..."

“So I didn’t imagine it,” Megumi says quietly. “Those cuts on your neck looked like the markings on Sukuna. Are they needed for that arrow thing you did?”

“Well—” Yoshi tries to speak.

“Holy shit,” Yuji gasps. “The fire thing was a Sukuna thing? He does fire shit?!”

“Yes,” Gojo answers, leaning against Yoshi’s chair again. Suddenly he’s eager to involve himself in this conversation. “Yoshi has sutras based on Heian-age Sukuna, when he was at full strength. How cool is that?”

“That’s insane,” Megumi corrects him flatly.

“No, it’s kinda cool too,” Nobara argues. “It’s fitting.”

Yuji scratches his head and admits, “I still don’t get how you make flaming arrows from a bunch of squiggly lines.”

This could’ve been over by now if Gojo weren’t here to goad them on. Yoshi shakes her head, pressing the heel of her palm against her eyes. “These marks aren’t even for the fire technique,” she groans, resisting the urge to scratch at the bandage. “They were to regenerate flesh after that stupid bird tried to fly through my guts.” And it would keep regenerating tissue indefinitely, which is why she needed to cut through the sutras to destroy it.

“That’s right,” Gojo hums behind her. He pulls on her arm and points, “The fire arrows actually come from the wrists!”

“Really? But there’s no tattoo,” Nobara disputes.

“That’s what you think,” Gojo jeers at her. “I can see them when they’re active.”

Before he can rile up poor Nobara any further, Yoshi slips her hand away from Gojo and quickly elaborates, “It’s under the skin. I got curious about unusual sutras as a teenager.” She looks down at her wrists, remembering the heat burning and healing and burning again. “I found out it’s not worth it.”

“As a teenager. You’ve had flaming arrows up your sleeve this whole time,” Gojo interrupts, like it’s only just dawning on him for some reason. “You never shot flaming arrows at me.”

She doesn’t know what to make of that. “Not worth it,” Yoshi repeats shortly.

Now he's offended. “I’m not worth a flaming arrow??”

“No,” she groans. “The collateral damage. I don’t want to cause a wildfire.”

Gojo rests his elbow on Megumi’s chair so he can see her face clearly. “You don’t want to cause a wildfire… again?” he guesses, eyes narrowed. “Did you burn down a forest in your rebellious teenage years?”

Of course he seems delighted by the idea of that. But Yoshi shouldn’t complain, it’s better than being faced with disgust. “No,” she answers with a sigh. “I used it at seventeen and fried the shit out of my arms.”

Nobara grimaces in sympathy. “Talismans really do come with brutal drawbacks…”

“Damn right they do.” At least Yoshi can say these students know the important part, if nothing else. She can tolerate their fascination, but she’s grateful they aren’t too interested in learning the exact things she’s learned.

“…Why did he kill everyone?” Megumi asks at last. “Why did that crazy scholar kill all the sorcerers but teach a kid that couldn’t use sorcery?”

Yoshi leans back again, trying not to grimace. She expected this question. That’s the real scoop after all—the truth of the Kusumotos is in their teachings.

“He got overzealous, and taught everyone,” Yoshi answers plainly. “He taught everyone equally, the original way that sutras were taught among the Kusomotos for hundreds of years.”

Megumi’s eyes narrow in thought. “So it overwhelmed them. Like when you taught the tree curse with a seal of Unlimited Void?”

Ah, this kid. He's so quick to put together the pieces. But that painted seal is a far weaker facsimile of what the Kusumoto school traditionally did. Paint is superficial, and even tattoos only go skin-deep. Yoshi has a few seals on her ribcage that need to be replaced because of her injuries, but the permanence of the Kusumoto talisman is unmatched.

“No.” She raises her hand again, and tosses the students an apologetic smile as she taps her temple harshly. “He inscribed his knowledge into wood from a camphor tree, and then hammered it into their heads.”

—/—/—/—

[Previous][Next]

A/N: Thank you to everyone still reading this story. I know it’s been a while, and it’s long as hell, but I hope to pick this back up and throw more chapters at you. Will we ever get to the baseball game? Lol your guess is as good as mine, Yoshi needs to shop for a new wardrobe first and who knows what else is brewing?

Spanish translations! pinche cuervo - fucking raven** Mei Mei actually uses blackbirds puta - bitch cabrón - bastard pendejo - asshole** It means a lot of things tbh Vete a la chingada - Go fuck yourself Doble hijueputa - Double motherfucker? Double song of a bitch? I think this is the Argentinian spelling/pronunciation, Yoshi was trying to branch out with this one.

[mellowswriting]

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pairing || Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

summary || Welcome home, Baby Pike! Sneak peeks of Marcus Pike being the best father and husband in the world.

words || 3,985

warnings || pregnancy and labor (no graphic detail), allusions to sex, BABY DADDY MARCUS PIKE Y’ALL, a somewhat physical altercation (Between Marcus and a stranger), fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, referenced breeding kink

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

You never expect your life to change on a Tuesday at two o’clock in the afternoon. In fact, you expected it to change three days prior on your due date, but Baby Pike decided that they wanted to make their entrance into the world a total surprise to everyone. After a morning full of what you thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, your water broke right in the middle of the living room. A small surprised yelp came from you, one that had Marcus scrambling from the kitchen to your side in an instant.

“Honey, what is it? Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“Yeah.” You said breathily, chuckling slightly. “Yeah, my water just broke.”

“What?” Marcus whispered and you watched as the realization broke across his face. He immediately held you at your forearms and eased you back to sit on the couch, a smile slowly growing on his face as he knelt in front of you. “Okay.”

“Oh my god, Marcus.” You stared at him, eyes wide, hands rubbing your belly almost absentmindedly. “Marcus, we’re having a baby.”

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” Marcus cried out excitedly and you couldn’t help but pull him forward to give him a kiss, one he eagerly reciprocated before pulling back suddenly. “I have to call Dr. Weston!”

At first, you had been pretty worried about how Marcus was going to handle your labor - the man could barely handle it when you had a headache, for god’s sake. But to your surprise, he shouldered the role of birthing partner with a calm demeanor. Firm and steadfast, Marcus let you drape your arms over his shoulders to support yourself through some particularly rough contractions, his voice low and reassuring as he met each of your fears with steady encouragement.

It really shouldn’t have surprised you, in hindsight.

Marcus practically ran after Dr. Weston to scrub up with her, intent on helping catch his little one ever since she brought it up and you confirmed that it was okay over and over; he never wanted to overstep, especially during such a serious, life-changing moment. His excitement was a beacon through your pain and exhaustion and frustration.

The last few pushes were rough. You were exhausted, everything hurt, and you were just over it. You were over all of it, and you wanted that damn baby out and you wanted to fucking sleep. Marcus could tell, his eyebrows pulled together in worry, but the second he stood from between your legs to return to your side, you gritted out that if he didn’t stay right there and help bring his child into the world, you would kill him yourself.

Understandable, but not your proudest moment.

With a dozen more pushes and the encouragement of both Dr. Weston and your fiancé, a shrill cry pierced the room, followed immediately by your fiancé’s amazed whispers of “Oh my god, oh my god”. Your little one was lifted up to your chest by Marcus’s sure hands.

“He’s so perfect.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible over his wails, tears of pain and exhaustion and joy falling once more as you cradled the perfect little baby against your chest. You laughed wetly and looked up at Marcus, your tears mirrored on his face, and you couldn’t help but say, “I told you he was a boy!”

“You were right.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair before gazing back at his son and laying his gloved hand on his back. He didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears and neither did you. “You were so right. He’s so beautiful.”

After you and your son were both cleaned up and settled and one extremely personal visit from the hospital’s lactation consultant, you laid in the hospital bed with little Oliver held at your breast. The tiny baby was just as exhausted as you were it seemed, his eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. Marcus paced by the bedside, his phone cradled to his ear as he spoke to his parents.

“Yeah, she was amazing. You and Dad can come by once she gets some sleep, they’re both pretty tired.” Marcus kept his voice low even though he knew you weren’t asleep, trying to let you at least rest for a little bit. “Oh, he’s perfect. Seven pounds, eight ounces. Twenty inches long. He’s got a head full of hair, just like I did.”

The pride and happiness in his voice made you smile despite the exhaustion and soreness that radiated through your body. Marcus sat next to you once his call was over, resting his head on your arm as he gazed at you.

“Thank you.” Marcus whispered. His eyes were shining with more tears and an appreciation that took your breath away. “You have given me everything I’ve ever wanted and I just… thank you.”

“No, thank you.” You chuckled quietly. “I’m sorry I threatened to kill you.”

Marcus shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “I don’t blame you.”

You puckered your lips in a silent request for a kiss, something Marcus gave without hesitation. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus gave you another kiss before leaning back in his seat, content to sit and watch the miracle that was his life. “Get some sleep, my love.”

---------

The first weeks at home with your little boy only confirmed the suspicions you had since the moment you met Marcus Pike - he was an amazing father. Beyond that, he was an amazing partner. Despite your insistence that he didn't need to, Marcus took it upon himself to bring you a glass of water and anything else you could possibly need every time you nursed. A pillow to prop up your feet, a book to read, the remote to pick a show to watch. Only when he was sure there was nothing more he could do, Marcus would sit next to you, happy to just enjoy the moment together.

A lot of promises were made, way back in the beginning of your pregnancy, a few of which you didn't even remember at first. But Marcus did, and that man followed through. Each time a tiny wail would echo through your home past ten o’clock at night, Marcus tossed back the blankets and was out of bed before you could even sit up all the way. Sometimes he would deliver a little bundle of hungry baby to your arms and then whisk him away back to his bed once his belly was full. Other times you would hear Marcus over the baby monitor as he hummed and sang and whispered to his son as he changed his diaper and rocked him back to sleep.

“Thank you. You’ve given me so much, I… thank you.” He murmured into your shoulder as he settled into bed behind you one night, having just put Oliver into his bed. “I love you so much and I promise you, I will give you the entire damn world.”

“You already have.” You whispered as you turned to kiss him.

---------

Somehow time managed to drag and fly by at the same time, the days, weeks, and months morphing together. Oliver grew like a weed, sleeping well and eating more than you thought he could even hold in his little belly. Every milestone he hit made pride swell inside you both. Watching Marcus interact with Oliver took your breath away more often than not. The second you passed Oliver off into his father's capable hands, Marcus was cooing at him, lifting him up in the air to see that gummy smile and hear that high peal of giggles each time Marcus gently jostled him about.

Going out in public with Oliver had a tendency to be nerve wracking, especially those first few times. But your worries about germs and public diaper changes quickly gave way to the fear and frustration that came from complete and utter strangers. It was the last thing you expected to be a problem and maybe that was naive of you, but holy shit. How many people thought it was perfectly acceptable to just harass parents while they’re out with their babies?

Too fucking many.

Oliver, on the other hand, loved going to stores, although the rhythmic swaying as he snuggled into either you or Marcus in his ring sling almost always had him knocked out within the first fifteen minutes. One second, those big brown eyes were taking in the bright lights and the next, he was conked out with his little cheek squished in the most adorable way.

He was snoozing against your chest as you perused the ice cream aisle, Marcus trailing a couple feet behind you with the cart as you both tried to pick out some flavors. You were so focused on the billions of choices in the freezer in front of you that you didn’t even notice the way the other man in the aisle was eyeing you.

“How old?” He asked, motioning to Oliver.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. All of the questions, god were you over it, but you weren't trying to cause a scene in the middle of the ice cream aisle. “Uh, four months.”

“Congratulations!” The man said and before you could fully process what was happening in front of you, he was reaching a hand out seeming to… touch your baby, what the hell did this guy think he’s doing!? You twisted away on instinct as both of hands came up to cover Oliver protectively, but before you could find your voice from under your shock to give that man a piece of your mind, Marcus swiftly stepped between you and grasped the man’s wrist.

In all your years of knowing Marcus, you had never seen his face so stoney. The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth, his eyes alight with anger, and all you could do was stare, wide-eyed at this fierce and protective side of your fiancé you had never seen before. Marcus didn’t say anything - the punishing grip he had on his wrist was enough to have him murmuring an apology and backing off. His face didn’t soften until he looked at you, his hand settling over yours on Oliver’s back as if he had to reassure himself that his son was still cradled safely between you.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked.

You still couldn’t find your voice, though this time it was stuck behind a lump of admiration and appreciation and desire because holy shit. Watching Marcus shift from his usual goofy, loving self to someone who would readily and easily break the wrist of a man who had the audacity to try to touch you or your child… it stoked something deep in your belly, some fundamental, basic urge that made you crave him.

“C’mon, we don’t need ice cream. We need to go home.” You said, grabbing him by his forearm and dragging him back to the cart.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Marcus’s voice was full of worry. “I acted like a caveman and it was ridiculous, I shouldn’t have -”

You cut him off with a kiss, leaning up on your tiptoes to firmly press your lips against his with your hand at the side of his neck. It pulled a surprised sound from Marcus but he gladly reciprocated, his hand finding your hip by habit.

“We aren’t going home because I’m mad, Marcus.” You whispered almost conspiratorially before jokingly covering the side of Oliver’s head, as if to keep him from hearing you. “We’re going home because I need you to fuck me.”

Marcus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a playful grin followed immediately after and he immediately grabbed the cart in one hand and intertwined his fingers with yours in the other. The shopping trip was only half successful grocery-wise, but in the end it was worth it to be able to drag him into bed and show him just how much you appreciated that protective side of him.

---------

The last thing Marcus wanted to do was go back to work. Walking out the door and leaving you and Oliver at home had been damn near impossible, but he really didn’t have much of a choice. He had used every second of his paternity leave and if he tried to weasel out of going back into the office, he was pretty sure he would get fired.

That first day was the worst. Marcus knew better than to call or text you constantly, but he missed being able to just see you and Oliver whenever he wanted. So instead, he checked his phone constantly, glancing over and over again just in case he received a text from you. Every now and then his phone would chime and it made him grin with each and every picture or small update you sent him. The little reminders of what he had waiting for him are what got him through the day.

Each week that passed, the wait for the clock to chime five o’clock became easier. His passion for his job reignited once he was steadily working again and his life felt so much more full than he ever thought it could be. He had a job he loved with an amazing team and a family at home that he cherished. It choked him up if he thought about it all too much, how he endured heartache after heartache, all the while thinking he would never actually get the life he envisioned for himself.

It made coming home to you and his son that much sweeter. Each evening played out by the same pattern; Marcus would plant a kiss to your lips and then Oliver’s head as he scooped him up to snuggle him, inquiring about how your day was and intent on hearing every silly little detail of whatever you got up to that day. A satisfied little smile found his face as just how full and happy his life was.

Bedtime routine was something Marcus excelled at; if there was a competition for getting a baby settled into their bed, he would win first place every damn time. You were jealous, there were no two ways about it. Yes, you could get Oliver down for the night just fine, but there was just something about the calming air Marcus carried about him that had the little one’s eyes fluttering shut.

You claimed that he was magic, but Marcus was sure it was just his boring office stories that knocked his son out.

Weekends were something special to Marcus. He loved the lazy mornings where he didn’t have to heave himself out of bed and creep around to get ready for work without waking the baby. Being able to instead appreciate how pretty you looked lost in your dreams and wake you with soft kisses was a gift he appreciated even before your family had grown.

Except now he got the added pleasantry of scooping up Oliver when he woke and bringing him into the big bed for you to feed him before Marcus could make him laugh that adorable laugh by popping up from behind the sheet he held in front of his face. Those cozy moments were his happy place, the fuel that got him through long days and sleepless nights.

Since the weekend brought all three of you together for the entire day, Marcus had taken a liking to offering to gather up Oliver after he had a full belly so you could have some time for yourself. It left him in awe just how much you did for your family, how hard you worked to keep the fires burning at home, and he wanted you to keep your fire burning within as well. The soft sounds of music and the perfumey smells of your bath products coming from under the bathroom door always made him smile, little Oliver curled against his chest. It was a win-win all the way - you got to relax without the immediate responsibility of childcare hanging over your head and Marcus got to bond with his kiddo.

Afterwards, Marcus would always bring the three of you together for some quality family time. Whether it was a simple walk through the neighborhood to the park a few streets away or a simple picnic in the backyard, Marcus loved getting to see you and Oliver bathed in sunlight, both of you cracking up as you tickled him while he tried to wiggle from your grasp. Oliver always ended up asleep at the end of the entire ordeal, exhausted from all of the fun and action, and Marcus always volunteered to carry him home, even when he had the empty stroller in front of him.

---------

You woke up feeling beyond well-rested. The heaviness that often plagued your eyelids had eased completely, leaving your eyes opening easily to blink against the sunlight peeking through the window. The sheets next to you were rumpled and cold and you shot upright on instinct. When you fell asleep, both Marcus and Oliver had been curled up with you, your son safe between both of his parents as he snored lightly. He wasn’t feeling well, a small fever and a case of the sniffles making him more clingy than usual, and neither you or Marcus could deny the puppy-dog eyes he gave from the foot of your bed when he toddled into your bedroom from his own.

The sound of Sunday morning cartoons eased the worry that prickled down your spine. With a quick stretch and a low groan, you tossed back the blankets and quickly made your way into the living room, and the sight that met you brought a small smile to your face. Both of your boys were still in their pajamas, a colorful pile of crayons between them where they lay on the floor as they scribbled away in a shared coloring book, the cartoons on the television entirely forgotten as father and son created yet another masterpiece sure to end up on the refrigerator with the half a dozen others. It took a moment for you to catch Marcus’s eye and he smiled at you in greeting before leaning closer to Oliver to whisper, “Guess who’s awake?”

Oliver’s head immediately snapped up to look around and he scrambled to his feet the second he saw you standing in the doorway. “Mama, mama, mama!”

“Good morning, little man!” You greeted as you scooped him off of his feet, his arms wrapping around your neck and tightening with a dramatic groan. You settled him on your hip and brushed his wild hair from his face. “Feeling better?”

“Better!” Oliver exclaimed, nodding so fast it made even you dizzy.

“I’m glad, baby.” You ruffled his hair, chuckling at his dismayed response of ducking away from your hand and wiggling from your grasp. His little feet took off running the second they touched the carpet, but your arms weren’t empty for long. No, Marcus stepped right into them and wrapped you in a warm hug, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“We decided to let you sleep in.” Marcus said, his chest rumbling against you as you relaxed into his embrace. “His fever is gone, has been since around 7:30.”

“Good, I was worried we’d have to take him to the pediatrician.” You murmured before leaning up to kiss him soft and slow, breaking away at the sound of a pan hitting the floor in the kitchen. “Sounds like someone’s trying to make breakfast again.”

“Better get in there before he spills flour all over the floor again.” Marcus chuckled, giving your ass a quick pat as he followed the sounds of destruction.

Once Oliver had gobbled down a bowl of cereal and you had a cup of coffee to sip on, all three of you settled on the floor to finish up the drawing that Oliver insisted he needed both of his parent’s help for. He was all too happy to slap it on the refrigerator under one of his letter magnets before scampering off to drag all of his toys out for the first of many times. Marcus plopped down on the couch next to you, situating himself so he could lay his head in your lap.

Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered shut with a pleased hum as you began running your hands through his hair, the untamed curls fluffy and soft between your fingers. He winced slightly at the familiar sound of Oliver’s toy chest dumping over in his room and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, I was thinking…” Marcus murmured, sleepiness returning to his voice under the relaxation your talented hands brought him.

“Don’t hurt yourself in the process.” You teased.

A pout formed on Marcus’s face and you leaned down to kiss his put out lower lip so he would continue. “I was thinking we could talk about if you want to do all of this again.”

“All of what?” You asked, your brain still booting up from sleep. Your fingers paused in his hair when it clicked. “Do you mean another baby?”

“Yeah.” Marcus’s voice was soft, quiet, as if he was fearing rejection.

“That’s ironic, actually.” You said with a small laugh. “I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to have another baby.”

“What?” Marcus sat up to face you, hope and excitement bright in his eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” You shrugged as you reached out for his hand, your thumb swiping back and forth over his knuckles. “Ollie is gonna be in preschool soon and I think three-ish years is a good gap for siblings. He really would make such a great big brother. Besides, I already told you I wanted a full house. Wait, we would definitely have to find a new house. Shit. I didn’t even think of that. Maybe we should just -”

Marcus’s lips crashed against yours, effectively cutting off the worried words that were about to spill from you in a rush. The kiss was messy and broken up by the huge smile Marcus wore. “We can start looking now. That way we’ll have a new house by the time I get you pregnant again.”

A shiver rocked down your spine at his words, at how excited he was at the prospect of having your belly swell with his baby again. Marcus pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, the both of you just breathing in the moment of electricity. “Are you really ready to do this?”

“Hell yes,” Marcus said with an eager laugh, his voice lowering as he continued. “And this time I’ll know exactly what I’m doing. I’ll know I’m filling you up, getting you nice and round with my baby again.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” You whimpered, that familiar heat pooling in your belly.

“Just you wait until tonight, sweetheart.” Mischief was plain on his face, his bottom lip momentarily captured between his teeth as he gripped your chin in a gentle, yet firm hold. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant again.”

With that lewd thought, Marcus gave you another firm kiss before leaving you there on the couch to make another cup of coffee, probably to give you both the space to cool off. With a loud sigh, you leaned heavily into the cushions unable to contain the grin you wore. How lucky were you? An amazing husband who doubled as an amazing father to your sweet, happy little boy. Two thriving careers. And even more plans for your family’s future. Soon your son hopped his way back into the living room, insisting you and Marcus come see the tower he made with his blocks. Hand in hand, the two of you listened as Oliver explained his creation, happiness and hope hovering in the air around you.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓

____________________________

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌!𝕭𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖞 𝖝 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙!𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖀

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When the Queen falls sick and passes away, King Bucky must marry another, preferably the princess of an alliance kingdom nearby, in order to keep peace and order among the lands. However she is the most god awful human being anyone has ever met. Her guard however well she was definitely not what the king expected.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: TRIGGER WARNING! MENTION OF DOUBLE SUICIDE!! (not graphic or detailed but just a heads up!) (part one)

𝕬/𝖓: welcome to my first series!!! there will be six parts i believe and i hope i can put out all its content soon! Enjoy!!! 

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.2k

___________________________

Bucky sat at the window after ordering everyone to leave him be. Since the Queen’s death the kingdom itself had been quiet. The people weren’t too fond of the woman but she was manageable. Bucky wasn’t exactly in love with her either but anyone falling sick to death isn’t wished upon even one’s worst enemy.

So here James sat, pondering what’s to come for the future of his kingdom.

Another alliance kingdom too far from his own had sent a messenger to propose the hand of his youngest daughter to Bucky. The king's other daughters had already been married to princes in line for the throne of trading kingdoms and his last daughter had recently become of age for marriage.

Bucky contemplated whether it would be too soon to wed again and consulted his best friend since childhood, Steven Grant Rogers.

“I want to marry for love.”

“I know Bucky but maybe you’ll turn out like your parents. So madly in love it was almost sickening,” Steve laughed.

“Yeah but then I married Elizabeth and I just couldn’t find a connection. I really wanted to love her. But I just couldn’t.”

“I get it, man. But you’ll need to marry soon; and you already have an offer ready for you.”

“I guess. Send the king a message saying we’ll meet the girl.”

Now in little over twelve hours, King James and his closer colleagues and guards will ride at dawn to the kingdom where Bucky will meet his potential future bride, or so he thinks.

===================================

“Father! When will King James arrive!” Charlotte shouted throughout the kingdom. You simply breathed in to relieve some frustration you’ve been bottling up.

Charlotte is the most spoiled bratty childlike woman you’ve ever met. But the king brought you in and it’s your duty to protect her now.

When you were just a child, you were born to a beautiful couple; a beautiful couple who liked to steal. You and your parents were nomads and you were one to never interact with people. One day your parents took the stealing a little too far and the king had taken them for trial.

Your parents were found guilty and put to jail under the king’s order. You went into hiding until you found out your parents had taken cyanide to escape their inevitable fate of being stuck in a prison for the rest of their lives.

The king and queen had found out the thieves had a daughter. The king wanted to, well “dispose” of you but the queen had brought you in as a child of her own. To say you were stubborn would be the understatement of the century.

You simply wouldn’t allow any of the maids to teach you the traditional etiquette the other princesses learned. So the queen tried something else.

She ordered her finest knights of the kingdom’s army and you learned from them. Fighting, combat, archery, using a sword, and you even learned to read. The king wasn’t too fond of the idea at first because women were to learn to be compassionate and gentle, and a woman couldn’t do that if she was fighting against enemies shedding blood.

But that of course didn’t stop you because who cares what a man thinks. You fought front lines against all who invaded the kingdom winning every battle under the king’s name. Surprisingly, people admired your bravery and as a woman, your compassion and grace too.

When all but one of the daughters of the king were wedded to nearby kingdoms creating peace and alliance his army was no longer needed for battles and you became the rightful guard and protector of the king’s youngest and unwed daughter.

Who was the world’s biggest bitch.

“Father!”

One of the maids came up to you and whispered in your ear that King James had in fact arrived. You stepped away only for Charlotte to begin nagging once again.

“Hey! Where are you going?” she came up to you.

“Bringing your king, your highness.”

“He’s here!” she screeched.

“Yes. Now I must meet with him before you can.”

“But I wanna meet him now!”

“I must be sure that it is safe before we can move further with everything. This is your future husband we’re talking about.”

“Eee!” she shrieked in excitement.

“Well. Can I leave?” you asked.

“Yes! Yes. Go!” she pushed you.

You went with a few other guards down to the gates to meet this king that everyone speaks so highly of. When you met him he was with quite a few people. More than you expected considering he called for a few guests and guards.

“Good morning, I assure your journey was quite long?” you greeted the king, bowing your head.

“Yes, and I believe the king mentioned something about his honorable knight? I was hoping to have my own knight consult with him. Would be valuable to share information the king said.”

“Well you’re in luck because that would be me. The King is waiting for you in the dining hall. We’ve prepared breakfast for you and your many colleagues.”

“Oh, I… I guess I was just-”

“Expecting a man?” you raised an eyebrow.

“What’s your name?” a woman spoke up.

“Y/n. Now if you follow me-”

Bucky drowned out your voice and simply followed you blindly. He would've never thought a woman would be the honorable knight to a king. Not that a woman isn't incapable of being a knight; it  was just uncommon. Never happened to say the least.

Natasha however was eating this up. She wasn’t a profound knight but she certainly knew her way around a bow and arrow and definitely a sword. Her and Steve have been friends for a while not as long as him and Bucky but still pretty long. And during said time, she was quite interested in combat and knightly duties. So Steve taught her everything she knows.  

“So they just let you be a knight?” she asked you.

“Uh, not really. But that answer won’t stop a stubborn woman.”

“I like you.”

“Good morning, your majesty!” the king shouted when you all entered the dining hall.

“Good morning. This is too kind.”

“Well, we do the best for our guests.”

You left Bucky with the king headed to the queen to make sure she was ready for breakfast along with Charlotte. You of course didn’t leave without making eye contact with Bucky; your body growing hot as you walked away feeling his eyes on you. Such a handsome man, the most you’ve ever laid eyes on. Much younger than you expected too.

You hope you can stay professional as the king and his friends reside in the castle for the next few weeks before the king’s annual celebration.

[moshymosh]

Remember me

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader.

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim to own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an ask or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics.

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

Next part | Masterlist

Y/n sat out by a pond, a small smile on her face as she watched the sunrise. Y/n sighed happily as her wrinkled hands pulled her cardigan sweater closed tighter. Y/n stood up from the bench she occupied and grabbed her books, which were set next to her on the bench, as she started to head back inside the nursing home she lived in.

Y/n stopped by the mirror just inside the door to fix her hair and straighten any smudges in her light coral lipstick. She stood up straight and smiled at her reflection before she turned and began to walk farther down the hall, past the nurses' station.

“Looking good Miss Y/n.” a male nurse said to her as she walked past him.

“You know it, James.” Y/n giggled back as she smiled. Y/n continued to walk to her destination, the common room. She got in the medicine line and waited until it was her turn.

“Good day, miss Y/n?” the orderly asked as she handed y/n the little white cup with pills rattling in it.

“I think it is going to be an amazing day.” Y/n said before she tipped the cup into her mouth and swallowed the contents, showing the orderly her empty mouth with a giggle. “Have a good day Sarah, see you tonight.”

“See ya mamas.” Sarah said with a smile and a shake of her head as she watched Y/n walk-off

“Good morning Spencer.” the nurse said as she walked into the room, seeing the elderly man standing by the window, looking at the sky as it was changing colors, as the sun rose, the colors reflecting off the pond water. “How about we go for a walk this morning?”

The elderly man, who the nurse called Spencer, shook his head. “I don't think I'm feeling up to it.” he said as he pushed up his glasses further up his nose, still looking out the window, now looking down at the bench by the waters edge.

Y/n stepped into Spencer's room, smiling politely at Spencer and his nurse, who turned and looked at her. “Hello.” Y/n said cheerfully.

“I’m sorry Miss Y/n, today isn't a good day.” the nurse said, walking over to Y/n, who was still standing in the doorway. “I don't think he's up for much of anything.”

“Hello?” Spencer asked warily to the woman standing in the doorway, books clasped in her wrinkly hands.

“This is Y/n, she's come to read to you.” the nurse said as she gestured to Y/n as she stepped closer to Spencer.

“Read?” he asked, looking between Y/n and his nurse.

“Mmhm.” The nurse said as she nodded.

Y/n smiled at him as she slightly lifted the books she was holding for him to see.

Spencer shook his head “No.” he said before he shrugged “I don't know.”

“Oh come on, you'll like her she's hilarious.” The nurse told Spencer with a chuckle.

Y/n smiled hopefully at him. Spencer nodded and walked to his nurse, then continued walking to Y/n.

“Let's go to the sunroom?” Y/n asked him, as they turned to the doorway. Once they stepped out into the hallway, Spencer, ever the gentleman held his bent arm out to her. Y/n smiled up at him as she took it.

“Lead the way.” Spencer said as he let Y/n lead him to their destination. Soon they reached the sunroom, the sunlight filled the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined three walls of the room. The pair walked over to some of the wicker furniture that occupied the room. Spencer gravitated to the rocking chair as Y/n sat on the loveseat. Y/n waited until Special got comfortable before she brought her glasses down from the top of her head and settled them on her face.

“Now where we're we?” Y/n asked looking down at the books on her lap.

Y/n opened the book that was on top, it looked worn from many years of use. Y/n sighed as her eyes scanned the page.

“Y/n and Spencer met in the summer of 2010 when the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit hired agent Y/n L/n.” Y/n started to read as Spencer’s mind drifted off picturing the people in the story she was reading to him.

Y/n stopped in front of the glass doors and took a deep breath when she straightened out her blazer, before she pulled open one side of the doors as she began to step into the bullpen.

“Oh!” Y/n heard before a flurry of blonde hair and brightly colored clothing came rushing over to her. “You must be agent Y/n L/n, oh of course you are. You're the only new face around here, oh God I'm rambling aren't I .”

“Garcia leave the new girl alone.” said another blonde woman as she walked up to the pair. “Hi I'm Jennifer Jereau, you can call me JJ. ” The woman called JJ said as she stuck out her hand.

Y/n smiled and shook her hand “Y/n.” she told JJ. “You must be Penelope Garcia.” Y/n started looking at the other woman. “Agent Hotchner told me all about you, and something tells me you know all about me already.”

“I... Uh...” Penelope started to say when she was interrupted by a tall floppy-haired man.

“She knows everything, she probably knows what you had for breakfast this morning.” The man said with a chuckle. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm not the medical type of doctor, more like the four PHD’s type.”

Y/n smiled at the man as he continued to ramble on. Spencer realized he was rambling and fell silent.

“It’s very nice to meet you Dr. Spencer Reid not the medical type but the four PHD’s type.” Y/n tilted her head and stuck out her hand to him. “I’m Agent Y/n L/n.” JJ looked like she was about to say something right before Spencer shook Y/n’s hand.

JJ and Garcia shared a look of shock at Reid’s actions.

“Agent L/n, welcome to the team.” A male voice said from above the group, causing everyone to look up at the source of the voice. “Please, everyone let's meet at the round table.”

JJ, Garcia, and Dr. Reid all began to walk up the stairs to the meeting room, Y/n nervously followed them. Y/n watched everyone take their seats, she took the last available seat, next to Spencer.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining me here.” The man spoke after he stood at the head of the table. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, we spoke on the phone, Agent L/n.”

“It seems like you've already met Penelope Garcia, Agent Jereau, and Dr. Reid.” Hotchner said, looking at Y/n who nodded her head in response. Aaron looked at the agent next to Spencer. “This is Agent Derek Morgan.”

Derek stood and offered his hand out to Y/n. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He told her before he sat back down when Y/n did. Y/n looked back to Hotch with a small smile.

“Next is SSA Emily Prentiss.” Hotch said gesturing to the woman, Y/n looked over and saw the woman had a stone facade, who gave her a curt nod, which Y/n returned. Y/n could tell Prentiss was profiling her.

“And this is SSA David Rossi.” Hotch said, as the man in question stood and walked over to Y/n and kissed both of her cheeks when she stood.

“Welcome bella.” Rossi said with his voice full of warmth before he went back to his seat and Y/n sat back down in her own.

“Everyone this is Agent Y/n L/n.” Hotch said and smiled at his team. Soon the peacefulness of Y/n telling the team about herself was interrupted by Hotch’s and Penelope’s phones going off. “Looks like we've got a new case.” Aaron said.

“I’ll go get the files ready.” Penelope said as she got up from the round table and exiting the room.

Y/n looked around at everyone and smiled, thinking to herself as they waited for the details of the case.

Y/n’s voice brought spencer back from his imagination.

“That case was a stressful one for both Y/n and Spencer. For Y/n it was her first case in the BAU and for Spencer to school his racing thoughts of the new agent, who he found very pretty.” Y/n read out loud.

“They caught the bad guy didn’t they?” Spencer asked. “Did Spencer and Y/n start dating?”

“They caught the unsub yes,” Y/n answered as she nodded. “No, they didn't start dating after this. Don't try to spoil the story now.” She teased.

Spencer smiled and nodded. “I like this type of story, go on.” Spencer said eagerly.

Y/n smiled and turned to go back to reading the book in her lap. As Y/n resumed reading Spencer’s mind drifted back to imagining the people she was reading about.

“As the cases continued, and the team continued to catch more bad guys, the closer JJ, Garcia, and Spencer got closer to Y/n. More so than the rest of the team.” Y/n read from the book she now held in her hands.

“Penelope?” Y/n called out as she saw the blonde scurry up the stairs to Hotch’s office. Penelope was too focused for Y/n to grab her attention.

Y/n looked down at the coffee cup on her desk and tilted her head at it in confusion as she looked at the note underneath it. ‘I remembered how you take your coffee.’ Y/n looked around at the other team members before she sat down and grabbed the cup.

“JJ.” Y/n whispered and looked at the woman sitting on Derek’s desk across from her. She held the coffee cup up with a questioning look on her face.

JJ looked over to Spencer and smiled before she looked back to Y/n and shrugged, pretending like she didn’t give away who bought Y/n the coffee. Y/n smiled and took a sip of the coffee. She set the cup down and grabbed a piece of notepaper from its holder on her desk and began to write a note on it.

“Guys, we have a case.” Hotch said from the railing above the bullpen.

Spencer looked up as Y/n walked past him, his attention was drawn away as a small piece of paper floated down onto his desk. Spencer picked it up as he stood up from his desk and began to walk up to the meeting room knowing he was behind everyone something he wasn’t known for. Once he got his file and sat down across from Y/n, Spencer looked at her before he opened the file that sat in his lap, only lifting it to cross his legs under it. Spencer’s thumb fiddled with the paper as he listened to the details of the case, every once in a while glancing at Y/n.

“Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch said, looking at Spencer with a knowing smirk. “Reid, you alright?” he asked after everyone left to grab their things to leave.

Spencer was drawn out of his thoughts when Hotch asked him, Spencer looked up to him and nodded his head, fingers still playing with the note.

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer said as he got up and smiled at Hotch before he left the room.

Soon they were all in the jet throwing out theories about the unsub. Y/n played with a strand of her hair as she was deep in thought about the case.

“Guys, ” Y/n said as she straightened in her seat. “The victims all have something in common,” Y/n said as she laid out all the victims pictures on the table in front of her. “They all have the same color eyes.”

Spencer stood from his seat on the couch and walked up to the table standing behind Y/n as he looked over her shoulder at the table. “They all have different shades of the same hair color too.” Spencer started as he looked at the pictures.

“These women were surrogates for someone.” Y/n said.

“Alright Reid, L/n you guys go to the ME’s office and see what you can find out. JJ, you and I will set up at the sheriff’s office. Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi go check out the latest crime scene.” Hotch said as he closed his file. Y/n gathered all the photos from her file and put them back inside before she closed it.

Y/n looked up and smiled at Spencer who was still standing behind her. Spencer looked down and smiled back before he went and sat back down on the couch he was previously sat on.

Spencer looked at the note he pulled from his pocket and was about to open it and read its contents when he felt the jet land on the tarmac. Spencer sighed and put the note back into his pocket as he stood to grab his go bag like the rest of the team.

The team caught the unsub and were back on the jet heading back to Quantico. Spencer was looking at the note he still had yet to open. He glanced at Y/n who was asleep, hand still stuck inside a bag of gummy bears. Spencer smiled and opened the note and read it, chuckling.

‘Thank you for the coffee- x F/I’

Hotch looked Y/n before she looked at Spencer who was still looking at the sleeping Y/n. Hotch got up and took a seat next to Spencer. “You should ask her to the FBI ball.” Hotch said softly, looking down at his phone to not draw attention to them.

Spencer looked away from Y/n and over to Hotch. “Who?” he asked trying to play it off.

Hotch smiled at Spencer and nodded over to Y/n who JJ was helping to get comfortable. “Agent L/n.” Hotch said.

Spencer sighed and looked down at his folded hands in his lap. “Do you think she’ll go as my date and not by herself?” Spencer asked shakily.

“She’d be crazy not to go with you.” JJ said, coming over to sit in her seat by Spencer. “You shook her hand the day she joined the team, YOU, mister germaphobe.” JJ teased, causing Spencer to chuckle softly.

“I did. There's something about her.” Spencer said softly as he looked back over to Y/n.

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | three

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed later on) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 2.0k

warnings: hoe-ish thoughts / implied sexual content, cussing, mentions of death/car accident, your friends being extra like always

notes: flashback scene towards the last half of the chapter. start and end of flashback will be indicated!

tags: @laurynne5​, @yiyi4657​, @bluesharksandfish​, @miinoongi​ @teamtardis-notdead​ (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

It was a cold morning, with the wind slowly picking up, bringing the clouds over from across the bay. You grabbed yourself a cup of coffee and sat on a table near the food cart on campus, finishing up your last items on your to-do list for work. You didn't wanna sit in the office for remainder of the day, and luckily, your job gave you that flexibility. You rubbed your hands together, hoping it could provide some relief to the cold taking over. You were too lazy to make your move at this point, and Mr. Kim's [or shall we say Jin since we aren't in a classroom right now] class wasn't too far away from where you were sitting. It'd be an easy, breezy walk.

Your brain felt foggy; even though you didn't have much left on your to-do list, you couldn't seem to focus and you knew why. Chance's death anniversary was coming up, and it was always something you dreaded. You wish you could skip the day and continue on with the week without having to revisit shit like this. Your friends are your biggest support systems, but they too, have their own lives to tend to. And as much as they tried to physically be there for you, sometimes it just didn't end up happening that way.

"Miss Y/N, are you doing alright?" You looked up to see Jin standing in front of you, a concerned expression plastered on his face while he held his cup of coffee.

"Oh yeah, sorry. Just spaced out trying to get things done for work."

"No need to apologize. I feel that, 100%." He chuckled. "Mind if I sit for a minute?" You shook your head and moved your things closer to you so he had some room for himself. "Glad to see you got home in one piece."

"Sure did." You smiled at him, tilting your head slightly to get a good look at his handsome ass face while he brings up his foot to rest on his knee. Honest question: is it ever too early for hoe thoughts to make an appearance?

Did I put on deodorant today?

"You work nearby?" He sipped on his coffee and glanced at you.

"Yeah, I work for a cloud-based software company as a project manager. Sometimes, I'll help chime in with graphic design projects too, if I'm not too swamped." He nodded.

"That's pretty amazing."

"What about you? I assume this isn't your only gig." He chuckled.

"You're right, it's not. I, uh-" He paused. "I'm a CFO for a tech company in the city." Your eyes widened. Handsome, and a fucking boss? You have got to be kidding me.

"W-wow. Holy shit." You quickly shook your head and shut your eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, holy crap." You corrected your previous statement.

"Y/N, I don't care if you cuss." He laughed. "I'm a 30 year old man who still finds the need to slip it in between every other word when I'm not in class."

"Sorry, just— holy fuck. I wasn't really expecting that, but good on you!"

"What do I look like to you? Honest question."

"Oh, I mean. I just thought you worked in business or something like that. As someone important, but not that important. I-I mean—"You sighed and pursed your lips into a fine line. "You know what I mean, I hope."

"I think I do, don't worry." He smiled, feeling slightly amused with how cute you were acting.

"You must be really busy all the time."

"Mm, no actually. I do have quite a few meetings and deadlines to reach but other than that, it's not too bad." You rested your chin on the palm of your hand. "Are you from here?"

"I am, born and raised. Are you?" He shook his head and slightly pouted.

"I moved here a couple of years ago from Seattle when my fiancé Grace started to get serious about her cooking. She wanted to open her first restaurant here."

"Oh, that's neat. She's a chef?" Stupid question, but you weren't sure how else to keep the conversation going about his soon-to-be wifey.

"Yep. She's a wonder woman, for sure." He pauses to sip more of his coffee. "Do you have family members that live around here?"

"Yeah I do, my parents live about 30 minutes away from here. I go and visit them when I can. But sometimes, I get too occupied with work and school that I just long for time to myself. Being 25, you'd think I could handle more but I'm still learning how to balance my time, I guess." He nods. He's a little relieved to hear you aren't that far off in age, to be honest. He wasn't sure if he was being weird harmlessly getting to know his students. He genuinely wanted to build relationships with them so they didn't think he was a professor they couldn't turn to. However, when it came to you, he couldn't help but feel slightly captivated. He was impressed with the way you carried yourself, down to how you'd participate in class and how you didn't come off like a student who hated every fucking professor they came across in their academic career. He appreciated the tiny details. "Not gonna lie though, I do get a little homesick whenever I don't get to visit for awhile, even though they don't live far. Truly makes me appreciate having my friends around."

"Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin? No siblings?" He asks. Impressive. He paid attention.  Although, it's definitely not hard to figure out when you four were constantly [for the most part] stuck at the hip.

"Yup, those punks. I'm the only child so they've become family to me." You smiled hearing your friends' names. They honestly meant the world to you, and you weren't sure where you'd be without them.

"That's sweet. It's good to have people like that on your side of the court."

There was silence for a moment, with Jin looking at you over the rim of his cup, while you tried your hardest to keep yourself together. You felt the heat radiating throughout your body the longer you kept your gaze on him, the tension slightly building. You were a little relieved he didn't bounce the question back about your love life or anything regarding the matter. You almost feel guilty that you're digging pretty deeply into this situation yet again, but you felt comfortable with the way the conversation was going and the energy he was exuding.

"I, um--" You pause as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He keeps the same gaze on you, almost like he's trying to figure out what you'll say next by reading you and your body language. "I hope--"

"Y/N!" You hear Taehyung's deep ass voice yell for you from behind. "Oh fuck, sorry dude. Am I interrupting something?" To be quite frank, you were happy Taehyung interrupted when he did because you were just about to tell Jin how good he looked, respectfully, of course. You were going to keep it PG and comment on the tie he was wearing and how the pattern complimented him and the rest of his outfit.

"No, not at all." Jin chuckles. "We were just wrapping up, I have to get going." He stands and smiles at the both of you. "See you both in class soon."

"Peace out, Mr. Kim." Taehyung throws up the peace sign like a dumbass as you both watch him take his exit and walk towards his classroom.

"Peace out, Mr. Kim? Really, Tae?"

"I mean, he seems cool enough for me to do that, don't you think?" You shake your head and continue finishing up your work on your work laptop. "What was that about? Are you in trouble already? What'd you do?"

"Why do you have like, so much fucking energy right now?"

"I downed two redbulls before I got here."

"You're an idiot."

"Me and Jimin were up all night hunting."

"I stand corrected— you both are idiots." Taehyung clicks his tongue before raising his eyebrow, manspreading and leaning back into the chair.

"So, what was that really about?"

"We just had a chat!"

"Sure. You both were definitely eye-fucking each other. It was weird to walk into."

"Not everyone is like you, trying to fuck everything they see." You rolled your eyes. "He had just sat here for a minute and we talked about work and where we were from."

"Okay." He snorts and shrugs.

"You're being so dramatic. It was harmless."

"Definitely looked otherwise."

"You weren't even here for the majority of our conversation?"

"Didn't have to be, sweetheart." He winked, playfully caressing your chin. "Your secret is safe with me."

"You are so full of shit. I don't know how I've dealt with you for so long."

"Who's so full of shit?" Ryujin comes strolling along, with a tired Jimin who was sipping on an iced americano. He wore a cap and sunglasses with sweats and a fitted crewneck, looking like he just rolled the fuck out of bed.

"Taehyung, who else?" You both stood up to start slowly walking towards Mr. Kim's classroom. "Are you okay, Chim?" You asked, genuinely worried about him, but also trying to change the subject.

"Tired. Just tired." He shakes his head, lowering his the brim of his cap even more. "This dumbass kept messing up our hunt last night."

"I didn't mess anything up, you just weren't clear on the directions." Jimin smacked him upside the head. "And Y/N's just mad I caught her and Mr. Kim on a date." Ryujin gasped, while Jimin choked on his iced americano and coughed trying to get himself together.

"Excuse me, come again?" Ryujin squeezes your arm, causing you to slightly wince in pain before you can shake her off.

"Tae, really?" You rolled your eyes. "It wasn't a date! He just sat with me for a minute and we talked for a little bit. That's literally it."

"You forgot the part where you both were eye-fucking each other when I came along."

"What the fuck is even going on right now?" Jimin finally chimed in, making you sigh deeply.

"We were not!" You pushed Tae. "You're such an instigator."

"First, helping you with your groceries, now this? I didn't think you had it in you, girl! Actually pursuing an engaged professor." Ryujin joked, making herself laugh out loud. Jimin is now walking alongside of you, while Taehyung throws his arms around both you and Ryujin, swinging his big ass head back and forth between the both of you.

"He helped you with groceries last night? What?" Jimin is honestly so confused and is unable to keep up with the chaotic conversation.

"Look, I just ran into him at Trader Joes and he offered to bring my groceries to my car since it was getting late. And today, we just ended up talking for a little bit. That's it. Can we drop this?"

"Mr. Kim has the hots for Y/N!" Ryujin teased.

"That's it. I'm going to find new friends." You shrugged. "Unbelievable." Did they not listen to one word you just said?

"You should go for it and have fun." Taehyung winked.

"No, no. She shouldn't go for him or do anything." Jimin states loud and clear, making sure he grabs both Ryujin and Taehyung's attention by waving his hand in the air.

"Ah, come on Chim, it's just a little fun."

"Ry." Jimin says sternly.

"Okay, kidding." She rolls her eyes.

"This is getting so out of hand." You say as you all approached the door to Mr. Kim's classroom.

"Hey Mr. Kim." Ryujin waved her hand playfully, followed by Jimin and Taehyung who simply nodded and gave him a toothless smile. He happily returns her greeting, then flashes a small smirk as you pass him while arranging the papers on the front desk.

"Hmph." Ryujin smirks. "Told you so." You roll your eyes.

Chance's death anniversary arrives quicker than you'd like, causing you to pick yourself up and force yourself to get on with the day whether you like it or not. After work, you quickly visited his grave at the cemetery, balling your eyes out as you spend quite awhile sitting in silence, staring at his photo on the tombstone. Every memory, every good and bad moment that you shared with Chance flashed right before your eyes.

It was irreplaceable.

[ start flashback ]

"So, who would you want next to you if the end of the world was coming?"  You kept your gaze on the 'List of questions to ask your significant other' photo on your phone.

"What kind of morbid question is that?" Chance laughed as he continued to hug you tightly while you laid on his chest. "You, of course."

"Aw, thanks bebe. Same here."

"Are there any happy questions in there?" He scrolled down the list. "Like this one - what's the cutest thing your partner has ever done for you?"

"When we had dinner on a boat and you sang to me and everyone else having dinner." You laughed.

"Yeah, that was pretty cute wasn't it?"

"Shut up." You playfully covered his mouth. "Your turn."

"The cutest thing you've done? I don't know sweetheart, you've done a ton of cute things. I'd have to say you waking up next to me. It reminds me how real you are." You smiled and pecked him on the lips.

"I love you, chance."

"I love you too." He says almost at a whisper while caressing your chin. He was pulled out of the moment when his phone rang. "Ayo." He says. You watch as his facial expression changes. "For fuck's sake man, alright. Hang tight, I'll be there. Yo, don't be stupid and drive home drunk. I'm about to leave, okay? Your ass better be there by the time I get there." He sighed as he hung up the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Josh is drunk as hell. I'm gonna go pick him up before he does something stupid."

"Can't he find a ride there?"

"Everybody left him. I can't just leave him there."

"I know, but--"

"It's gonna be fine, okay baby? I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Alright." You sighed. "Be safe, please."

"I will."

[ end flashback ]

When you finally arrived at school, you checked out your appearance to make sure you looked decent enough to get through class. You were hoping your psychology classes would go by quickly, just so you could get out of there and feel less suffocated.

"I'm sorry I can't come over." Ryujin pulls you into a tight hug and caresses your back. She had planned to spend time with you, but her sister called her last minute to ask if she could babysit her niece until late night. "But let me know if you need me, okay? I don't care if it's 1AM, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Same. I'll do what I can to get out of this family thing." Jimin gives your arm a gentle squeeze. Jimin's family was visiting from Korea on a whim, so he had been pulled into some family festivities for the evening.

"Look, you guys. I'll be fine, okay? Don't worry about me. You know I love you both no matter what, do what you need to do."

"I'll text you when I'm on my way?" Taehyung is the only one who is able to spend time with you tonight, after he helps his younger brother with a project. You simply nodded before you split ways with your group and headed for the library. You were going to stick around and do some work at the library until Taehyung was free because there was no way you were going to go home alone, feeling the way you were feeling. You weren't going to get anything done, and you weren't going to have the energy to pull yourself together.

Today was heavy.

The library wasn't any better for you because your thoughts seemed to be louder in such a huge, quiet space. You were looking at the clock time and time again, hoping Taehyung would text you, letting you know he'd be on his way with tons of dessert and wine. Just cause that's what you wanted, right at this moment.

You sighed and cracked your neck from side to side, getting yourself into Steph Curry "Lock in" mode so you can push through your assignments that needed to get done. But, it just didn't happen that way. You were becoming frustrated and restless, so you quickly packed up your things and shoved them into your bag before walking out. The campus was lit with street lights, with barely any students walking around. It felt a little eery, but the walk to the lot wasn't too bad being that the garage was well-lit, with security guards on every level. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, causing you to try and reach for it even though you were hauling the rest of the books that didn't fit in your bag. Next thing you knew, you had your phone, but your books had fallen to the floor, the papers stuffed in them falling out and getting wet from the wet grass next to the concrete walkway.

"Fuck!" You groaned to yourself as you quickly glanced at Taehyung's 'be there in about 30 minutes or so' text and bent down to pick up your mess. You really had no reason to cry over this shit, but all of the pent up frustration and emotions you had been feeling today pushed you over the edge. You aggressively wiped your tears away as you stuffed your wet papers back into the books and stacked them on top of each other.

"Y/N?" You look up to see Jin, tears still falling from your eyes. "Are you alright?" He bends down to help you gather your books, towering over you as he gathers the majority of your things.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." You slyly wiped your tears once more as you grabbed the books from him.

"Hey." He placed his hand out to prevent you from walking any further. You look up at him, watching as he dips his head down to examine your face, your eyes still wet and glossy from the tears. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Look, I'm fine and I don't wanna take time away--"

"You clearly aren't." His expression fills with worry. "And you aren't going to be taking time out of my evening." He finishes your statement for you. You sigh and close your eyes as your head dips lowly.

"It's just been a tough day, that's all."

"Let's talk about it." You look up at him as he nods for you to follow him to a bench near the parking garage. "Come on. I really won't forgive myself if I went home without trying to help." You silently follow him and place your things down before sitting. He sits next to you, with enough space placed between your position and his. "What's on your mind, Y/N?"

"Um." You pause and look at him. "On this day 3 years ago, I lost the love of my life to a car accident." You wiped your tears in between words. Jin's expression softened as he watched you break down in front of him, his heart breaking seeing you in pain like this. He wanted to do everything in his power to comfort you, hoping it would relieve some of the pain even though he knew it was something that would forever be embedded in you. But if he could provide any relief, then that would make him feel a little better.

[ start flashback ]

"It's been close to two hours, where the hell is he?" You said as you looked at your phone, sitting on the couch as you, Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin watched a movie. Suddenly, breaking news flashed through the screen, cutting the movie to another commercial break earlier than expected.

"Breaking news - a white Lexus sports car and a Ford truck were involved in a head-on collision early this morning on Highway 101."

"O-oh my god." Ryujin says, as they look at the totaled cars. The Lexus was completely sandwiched at the median, while the truck was wrecked, but still stood in one piece off to the side.

"T-that's Chance's car." You said as you put your drink down on the coffee table to take a closer look at the car.

"Y/N, I'm sure Chance is fine and is on his way back." Taehyung chimed in from behind you.

"N-no." You stuttered, the feeling of despair in the pit of your stomach growing bigger by the minute. "N-no, I know his car."

"We might just be overthinking this." Jimin says, gently grabbing your wrist to pull you back down onto the couch, but you continued to stand.

"There was said to be one intoxicated passenger in the white Lexus, who is in critical condition and is being taken to the nearby trauma center. The driver of the truck was also intoxicated and injured, but is expected to survive. However, the driver of the white Lexus was pronounced dead at the scene." All of a sudden, you felt weak and dizzy because you just knew. You knew Chance wasn't okay, and you knew he wasn't on his way back to you. Soon after the news announcement, loud knocks came at the door. You looked back at your friends before making your way to the door, revealing two police officers standing before you. At this point, you felt like your entire life had been sucked out of you as you fell onto the floor, crying loudly while your friends tried their best to comfort you and speak to the officers for you. All you could remember hearing was the "i'm sorry's" from both police officers before everything turned into white noise. Everything felt numb.

[ end flashback ]

"I am so sorry, Y/N. I know my apologies are going to do much to ease the pain, but please know that I'm here for you whenever you need someone to talk to. I wanna do what I can to provide some relief." Is all Jin says as you continue to divulge about that night's details.

"You know," You looked up at the moon. "It's been 3 years, but it feels like it just happened yesterday. The pain always feels so fresh and it still feels so painful to think about it. It used to make me question why I was so deserving to continue living my life. I'm not an angel, I haven't been perfect. You know? Yet, someone who was so close to perfect, someone who was always so selfless and never hesitated to put others before himself was taken away from this world so easily? How did Josh survive, but Chance didn't? He was just going to help his friend out because he didn't want anything to happen to him, yet he ended up getting the short end of the stick. I was so mad." You shook your head. "I was so mad at Josh for awhile. I never understood and I still don't. I still don't fucking understand this." Your tears fell as you looked back at Jin.

"I can only imagine. There's things we'll never understand and quite frankly, it fucking sucks. But, I really don't want you to beat yourself up over this. I'm sure Chance wouldn't want you to, either. A lot of things happen for a reason, whether we like it or not, and it's hard to look at it in a different perspective. He's still with you, all the time. You're strong, and he knows this."

"I just don't know how I did this without him. It hurts so bad."

"I know, and it's okay to let yourself ride it out. Don't try and suppress the feelings just because you feel the need to act strong. If you don't let yourself process these feelings, it'll never get easier. It's okay to not be okay." He nods reassuringly. You smile at him toothlessly before sighing and getting yourself together. Although it had been quite the day, you felt a little relieved being able to talk to Jin about what's been going on. You felt a little more put together than you did earlier in the day and that's all that mattered. Baby steps.

"Is it okay if I give you a hug?" You asked shyly. You didn't know how else you could thank him for listening to you. You were sure he had tons of things on his plate, yet he still took time to sit with you out in the cold just to make sure you were okay. He chuckles and stands, his arms wide open, ready to envelope you. You wrap your arms around his torso, taking in his scent and breathing him in. He gently rubs your back before you pull away and smile up at him.

"I'll take a hug any day."

"I hope Grace won't be upset with you for coming home a little later than expected."

"She'll be fine. She's at the restaurant working late." His lips were pulled together in a fine line.

"Thank you again." You pull out your phone to check the time. 30 minutes from the last time Taehyung texted you was almost up, so you felt the need to get going sooner than later.

"It's not a problem." He puts his hand out, signaling for your phone. "Do me a favor and just let me when you get home, though? I'd feel better knowing you're safe and sound." You nod and hand him your phone. You knew you couldn't get wrapped up in whatever this was, no matter how flattered you were from the attention you were getting from him. He was still engaged, and he was still planning a life with Grace. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin that for someone genuine like Jin.

But God, was he making it difficult for you.

"I can do that."

"Thanks." He smiles toothlessly at you. "If you're ever in need of company or someone to talk to, don't hesitate to let me know. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

"Okay." You grabbed your things before walking away. Jin stood there, watching you walk deeper into the garage, feeling good about having been there at the right time. Something as simple as the hug you gave him had his thoughts running wild, just feeling your touch and your body against his. Albeit, it could be the lack of attention between him and Grace causing him to feel this way, but it was enticing all at the same time.

You were enticing.

And he could pick up on your little habits that made him want to know more. The way you'd look at him inside and outside of class. The way you always dressed so nicely when you had to take his class. The way you passed closely to the front desk, allowing him to take in your scent. The way you and your friends acted around him, knowing they were teasing you.

He knew, and he also knew what he was doing when he put his number in your phone.

He gets home and just as he mentions, Grace is still out at the restaurant working late. He kicks his shoes off to the side and heats up some leftovers to eat before retreating up to the master bedroom to call it a night early. As he's getting out of his clothes from today and heading into the shower, he notices his phone vibrating on the bathroom countertop, signaling a text.

[unknown number] 9:37pm: Hi, I'm safe and sound at home. :)

He smiles to himself before responding and heading into the shower.

[jin] 9:38pm: :) Goodnight Y/N, see you tomorrow.

[violetnotez]

Ohohoho yes anon let’s turn this broccoli boi to the dark side 😈😈😈 also thank u @gallickingun for helping me with the plot!!!! And @jojosmilktea for hyping up my banner cause I seriosuly don’t know what I’m doing with graphics 😂😂😂

Izuku x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: slight cussing

Summary: Izuku feels he is never going to get a chance to be close to you, being you two are so much more different than each other. But seeing you spar with Bakugo makes him decide that he has to shoot his shot-before it becomes too late.

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

Y/n l/n.

Your name was written at the top of the page in Izuku’s messy handwriting, the name particularly more neat than the other names in his notebook.

Right under your name was a crude sketch of your hero suit, just like the rest of his pages of notes. Yours was somehow a little different, a little more detailed than the rest. It seemed to have more care put into it, as well as a lot more notes surrounding it than the other entries.

The other pages about the heroes and students he had encountered were much more simpler than yours, the writing only focusing on their powers and their notable strengths. You on the other hand, were different-Izuku had seemed to write everything about you he could fit into that initial page, the immense amount of detail eventually spreading out to the following pages.

No matter how he looked at the situation, Izuku knew he had fallen head over heels for you. He knew he shouldn’t have-it was like you two were practically in two different worlds.

You were blunt, assertive, and a little on the rebellious side. You acted first and thought of rules later, being the first to challenge someone to a fighting match, or agree to a dare no matter how risque it was. You were a risk taker, and you knew it, which made you such a perfect addition to Bakusquad.

Izuku,on the other hand, was nothing like that- he studied everyday like a good student, and always made sure to stay out of trouble as much as possible. He colored in between the lines, and he felt like he was so bland when compared to your wild spirit.

Even though you two were completely different in every way, he couldn’t keep you out of his head. You never seemed to look down on him, always greeting him with a warm smile and asking him how he was. Your laugh echoed in his head like a catchy song, and the way you would send him smiles from across the room made his heart race. Izuku was fully aware that he was most likely going to get his heart broken if he didn’t make a move soon, but he was content at the moment with admiring your beauty and resilience from afar.

“Cmon y/n, I told you not to go easy on me!”

Izuku perked his head up from his note taking, noticing that voice to be none other than Bakugo. Poor Izuku’s eyes were blown out of sockets, though, as he saw the scene unfolding in front of him.

There was Kachan, his friend and sometimes rival, toppled on top of you, his torso straddling your hips. Bakugo’s large hands had your wrists pinned to the ground, his powerful legs pushing yours into the ground to keep you from squirming.

Uncharacteristic anger bubbled inside Izuku as he saw Bakugo on top of you in such a suggestive pose. He knew you two were just training, but-he couldn’t help but wish that he was the one on top of you, not Bakugo. Heck, he just wished he was the one you asked for help with training and not Kachan. Izuku never wanted to feel like he was competing with his friend, but right now, he felt like he was-and he was losing.

It didn’t help either that you were close to Bakugo, always hanging out with him and his friends. You weren’t that afraid of his yelling and his threats, merely laughing at him when he was on another rampage. Bakugo seems to treat you like an equal, actually offering you compliments from time to time and allowing you to train with him. Izuku knew only a few people could earn Bakugo’s respect, and it couldn't be a good thing for his love life if his antisocial best friend seemed to take an extra interest in his crush.

Izuku watched as you laughed at Bakugo’s statement, your sweet laugh ringing like bells.

“Hell Bakugo, you thought that was me going easy? I was just getting started!” You scoffed at the ash blonde boy, your chest then connecting with his.

Izuku sucked in a tight breath, holding it in as he watched you wrap your legs around your opponent. You then quickly flipped your bodies around, landing so it was now you, not Kachan, who was on top. Bakugo took a large gasp of air, his lungs unable to get a proper inhale from the sudden movement.

You shoved his shoulders into the ground, shimmying on his chest to get a better grip.

“God Bakugo, you're so quiet!” You smirked, “Didn't know you liked being a bottom so much-“

“S-s-shut the hell up you damn idiot, I’ll fucking-“ Bakugo instantly started yelling at you, the twinge of red in his cheecks hard to ignore for Izuku. You continued to laugh at his reaction, your body shaking from the giggles as you continued to sit on his stomach.

Izuku looked down at his notebook full of notes about his devotion to you, sighing sadly-

Yeah, he had no chance.

As you continued to chuckle, trying to hold your grip on the aggressive boy under you, you looked to your left. To your surprise, you saw a lonely looking Midoriya under a shady spot of a tree, looking slightly sad as he stared down at his lap.

You and Izuku were pretty good friends, as you both seemed to have mutual likes and interests in and out of class. You didn’t talk much to the green haired boy, but you found him to be extremely sweet and quite attractive. You also didn’t socialize with him as much as you wished you did, but since you two were completely different friend groups, it made it quite difficult to hang out with the greenette.

You wished you knew what was going on in that poor boy's head right now, his head hanging low on his shoulders. He looked so defeated, his back arched as if he was carrying a heavy burden on himself.

“Shitty woman-your hurting my fucking wrists!” Bakugo spat out, his eyes filled with anger. You smirked at your opponent, knowing full well that was his way of “taping out”.

“Sorry Bakubro-,” you replied, rolling off his stomach as he rubbed his wrists tenderly, muttering about how “crappy” you were.

You ignored your friend’s remarks, making your way over to the poor boy underneath the cherry blossom tree. He didn’t seem to even notice you walking towards him, his hands resting sadly on his notebook in deep thought. You smiled softly at him-he looked so cute when he was thinking so intently, even if he did look a little solemn.

“Hey, Earth to Midoriya!” You hovered your hand over his eyes, breaking his daze.

“Oh-uh-y-y/n!” He squeaked, his body jumping from your sudden presence.

You laughed at his jumpiness, causing a red hue to grace his cheeks. Izuku didn’t even notice you sneaking up on him...but the fact he had made you laugh made him stomach feel warm and fluttery.

You stood in front of the boy, thinking it might be better to be at eye level with him.

“Mind if I sit?” You asked

Midoriya shook his head vigorously, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. “N-n-no, not at all!” He said enthusiastically, scooting over so you had more room.

You plopped yourself right next to him, seemingly unfazed by the sudden closeness. Izuku, on the other hand, was freaking out internally.

He could practically feel the heat radiating off you, your infectious personality seeping into his, brightening up his spirits. Your shoulder was resting on his, the breeze flitting through both your hairs. He couldn’t believe you had come to him, let alone sit next to him and want to talk. Even if you maybe had a thing with Bakugo, this was a win in his head.

You looked down at Midoriya's hands, noticing the slight shake in his fingertips. You smiled softly-this boy was too nervous for his own good.

“Are your hands doing okay-I know you train really hard,” you stated matter of factly, tenderly picking up one of his scarred and calloused hands with your own.

Izuku’s brain was about to explode-you were touching him now? Even though his brain felt fuzzy and full of static, he loved the way your skin felt against his own. It was just as calloused, but the skin was softer and feather light, the pads of your fingers tracing each scar like a message in Braille. You flipped his hand over gently, following the roads of his skin as you inspected his hand.

Each touch left a ticklish feeling that settled in his skin, the tingling simultaneously calming and accelerating his heart rate. God, he could get used to this.

“Their-their doing fine,” he stuttered out, his face engulfed in red.

“You sure?” You gave him a knowing look, a small smirk on your lips. “Cause you look like you punched a wall”

You giggled at his embarrassed face, your sweet voice making his heart thump against his chest.

“Well, since I’m still not used to my power yet, it takes quite a toll on my body,” he rambled , staring at the hand you were currently holding, “s-so I have to train extra hard to allow my body to fully grow to handle its power.”

You nodded your head, letting go of his hand and resting yours on your knee.

“That makes sense,” you agreed, resting your head on the trunk of the tree, “You got a hell of a powerful quirk if you have to train that hard...I've always admired you for that.”

Izuku’s head shot up in confusion...admired him? He thought you didn’t even notice he was alive! He stared at your profile, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Oh, it’s really not that big of a deal,” he rambled on again, scratching the back of his neck, “it’s expected of me to do that-“

“No it isn’t!” You argued back supportively, “none of us ever train as hard as you do! You always try your best, no matter the circumstances. Hell, I don’t even think Shoto trains as hard as you and he’s the one that came to UA off of recommendations!”

“Oh-oh it’s not that big of a deal, I promise-“

You were beginning to feel frustrated that this shy boy couldn’t take your compliment. Midoriya was too sweet and humble for his own good, and it took quite a lot to get him to believe your words. You took that as a challenge, and you were all up for it.

Your arm crossed over Izuku’s body, encasing him in your body so you could fully look at his face. His eyes were wide from your sudden movement, his freckles much more prominent as his cheeks were dusted with pink.

“You are strong Midoriya, and I have a reason to admire you,” you stated, your face a mere inches from his.

Izuku couldn’t move, and really, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were so close: he could see every beauty mark, every strand of hair that graced your complexion. He could even smell your perfume, a light floral scent that made his head swoon. He was feeling so awkward, not knowing how to react, but he wanted to stay like this forever.

You smiled at the young hero, taking his quiet demeanor as him surrendering to your compliments. You swung your body off of his, leaving a cold spot in Midoriya's stomach from moving away so soon.

“Which reminds me…” you began, your hands resting your stomach. “I wanted to see if you wanted to train tomorrow after class-I'd really like it if you gave me some pointers on my technique.”

“Oh-I’d be honored!” He exclaimed, but then chuckled nervously at a sudden realization.

“B-but I think Kachan wouldn’t like it if I were there…”

You cocked your head in confusion, staring at the greenette’s face, perplexed by his statement.

“Bakugo isn’t going to be there-it'll just be you and me,” you stated matter of factly.

Izuku instantly fidgeted, feeling dumb for just assuming it would you and all your friends. Of course if you asked it would just be him and you! He instantly shook off the embarrassment, feeling giddy from happiness. You had asked him-not Kirishima, or Shoto, or Kaminari, or even Kachan-him, to train with you. He felt like he was on top of the world.

But then the alarm bells began to ring in his mind, a memory flitting back into his head that was stopping him from agreeing instantly.

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

He was at the lunch table one day, staring sadly at your table full of friends. Right now, they were currently trying to throw pieces of meat into your mouth, the yells and laughs flowing over to his quiet table. You were laughing, trying to catch the small bits of food and looking like you were having the best time.

His friends noticed his saddened demeanor, following his gaze to your table.

“Midoriya are you feeling quite alright?” Iida asked as he looked down at the green haired boy, “you're staring quite intently.”

“Huh?” Izuku shook his head a few times, looking at Iida with rosy cheeks, “oh-oh I wasn’t staring-or looking at y/n-san…”

Uraraka giggled nervously, giving her friend a strange look. “Uh-Midoriya, Iida never said you were staring at y/n...just that you were staring-“

“Oh! Well - I was- uh…” he stuttered out, not knowing how to get out of the situation. He was cursing himself internally for basically admitting to his crush he had worked so hard to keep quiet.

Iida took a bite of his food, focusing his attention at your table as well.

“Y/n is truly a free spirit-she’s quite a rebel as well,” Iida commented.

“Yeah, it seems like almost every week Mr. Aizawa has to speak to her about something she’s done… she’s really nice, but she is a little on the wild side,” Uraraka followed suit, focusing her attention on a quiet Midoriya instead.

“Do you really like her Midoriya?” She asked, her wide eyes seemingly staring into his soul.

Izuku giggled nervously, fiddling with his hands. “I-I guess...maybe….”

Uraraka pursed her lips, giving Iida a pained look. They both cared for Midoriya dearly, but didn’t know much about you except you were one of the “wild ones” of Class 1-A. You and Midoriya seemed completely opposite, and both friends felt that this crush would end badly for poor Midoriya's heart.

Iida sighed again, looking at his blushing friend, “Midoriya, it is wonderful you find so much love and affection for y/n-“

“But this probably won’t end well. She’s friends with Bakugo, and all of his friends-she’s just so different from you Izuku. We just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Uraraka finished Iida’s statement, watching Izuku slump into his chair a little more.

He felt almost defeated-his friends were right, you two were in completely different worlds and values. No matter how much he tried to weave a plan or scenario in his mind that would somehow end in you two being together, it just never seemed to work out.

The bell rang for lunch to end, Izuku still slumped in his chair in defeat.

“Cmon Izuku,” Uraraka said sweetly, offering her hand to him, “let’s go to class,”

He got up sadly, his friend's words echoing in his mind as he walked to class.

They were right-it wouldn’t ever end well for him.

—————-

But now, seeing your waiting face so close to his, he couldn’t help but say yes. He had to at least try, to see if maybe you did have something between the two of you.

Forget about your wild personality, or the fact you two were so different, or the way you seemed so close to Kachan-he was going to shoot his shot, even if that meant he was going to get hurt in the process.

This was his chance-it was now or never.

Izuku took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow.

“I would-love to train with you...and-and maybe,” he gulped, feeling his heart beat fast against his chest, “we can get some ice cream after?”

You smirked at the blushing boy, having a feeling at what he was implying.

“Just you and me?” You mused, leaning into Izuku’s body slightly.

He nodded feverishly, feeling his confidence begin to wane slightly at your sudden closeness.

“Y-Yep! Just- you and me.”

—————-

Taggings (if ya want to be added, just shoot me an ask or comment on this post!)

@birds-have-teeth @gallickingun @yuueimagines @bnhabadass @dabis-devil @freckledoriya

[coffeebeannate]

The Old Guard: Vol 2-Force Multiplied (Summary &Overview)

I’d been meaning to make this post for a while, and kept forgetting. Because I know there are those who are curious about the comics and not sure about reading them, or can’t read them, would rather opt out etc. So I’ve put together a basic summary and breakdown of what happens within the issue. I’ll include some information about the characters, some timelines (as I can, we know what Greg thinks of timelines) and mostly keep it uncommented until my own general thoughts at the end.

The movie mostly follows the first comic almost completely, and bits of the second, so I’ve not created a summary of the first volume.

Under a cut, includes images and information. If you want a TL’DR, skip to ‘Final Thoughts’ at the end. Long post.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Human Trafficking, Slavery, Torture (This one I need some clarification on, gonna use the word just in case but..basically that’s what it is)

**SPOILERS**

Credits: The Old Guard Vol 2 Force Multiplied is created by writer Greg Rucka and aritst Leandro Fernandez. Colouring by Daniele Miwa. Letters by Jodi Wynne. Publication Design by Eric Trautmann. Edited by Alejandro Arbonna.  Published by Image Comics. Graphic Novel Published 2020. USA. 

Characters and Settings

Characters are the same from volume one. So we still have Andy, Joe, Nicky, Booker, and Nile. As well as more about Lykon and Noriko (she’s not Quynh in the comics, she’s Noriko). There’s more Copley too.

Additional/new characters are FBI  Agent Mustafa King  (also called Moose) and people who work for Noriko *none are named*.

Setting is California, USA and historical settings for the flashbacks we have for Andy. Summary and Overview (Basically the story overall, broken down, with my own commentary)

We open here, with a flashback of Andy’s earliest life. It’s a tiny bit vague, but provides the general idea.

I believe Andy is mortal here, but I’m not 100% sure. I believe she’s providing the narration to her first death. Which comes as the result of being betrayed in battle.

(Much of the stories focus is on Andy. I’ve noted it before, but Andy is our narrator, and a lot of the story is told via her flashbacks, over narration and POV. The comics really are Andy’s story, with the cast supporting around her.

We cut to modern day, of Andy, Nile. Nicky and Joe doing a job in California, USA. I believe the whole job revolves around taking down human traffickers, and in a couple parts. The job at the beginning has a shoot-out during the day, a car chase and then a stealth take down on a dock and shipping warehouse at night.

I just thought Andy looked cool here. Moving on.

Nile and Andy have a cool sportscar. Joe and Nicky have this very stylish *coughs* but exceptionally practical large van.

After the four of them take care of their day business, we cut to Booker being confronted in Paris by Noriko. Now the scene presented in the comics here is close to what we see at the end of the movie. Except this time it’s at night, and Noriko essentially kidnaps Booker. Since she wants to know where the others are, and Booker won’t tell her.

I’ll cut right to the chase. She uh. She tends to torture him. She’s got him on a heavy chain with a metal collar, and at one point drowns him over and over again to get him to talk. He never does, but she keeps him around anyway. 

Around this time Agent King (Moose) appears, and then manages to come across Nile. Which leads to the infamous ‘stew of romance’ scene. 

However. while Nicky and Joe are amused (and making bets on him asking her out).. (I love them)

Andy is not amused at all and loses her goddamned mind over it. To which she threatens to..spank Nile (????????) and Nicky and Joe basically tell her to calm down. (Andy’s worried that Nile befriending a mortal is going to end badly, and Nicky and Joe remind her that even if it does, they can’t just stop her. And that some things, Nile has to learn and adjust to herself. Nile is smart, and she’ll come to her own conclusions in time. Interfering isn’t right.

(They all look so sad in the bottom there, help me)

After this is the night mission at the warehouse docks.

Another shot I just thought was cool. Nicky’s sniping shots are done really well.

After they finish, Noriko comes out of the actual blue to get them. Or well..attack them. Joe’s the first one to greet her, and all she does is comment about how he (Yusuf) hasn’t changed and shoots him. She shoots Nile and Andy as well. After both of them recover, Andy and Noriko start fighting, and Nicky puts a stop to it by shooting them both.

(It’s after Andy see’s Noriko that we get the first flashback from Andy to the ships, the same storm that ended up throwing Noriko overboard all those centuries ago and causing her time at sea).

After Noriko and Andy revive from Nicky’s snipe shot, they split, leading us into the next day where Copley and Agent King (Moose, our new character) are surveying the damage at the warehouse and trying to decide what went down.

Copley already knows it’s the Guard, and is trying to explain this to Moose. I do kind of like this moment, where Copley comments to himself about Nicky being a good shot.

Hey-credit where credit is due and all.

Shortly after this, Copley falls on Nicky and Joe’s radar. And they quickly accost him at night. Which is far more satisfying than I thought it would be. A lot of the outcome with Copley and them does feel pretty good. 

(Nicky’s scary face aside, I kind of love this shot, and this moment)

They don’t beat around the bush nor give him much leeway. They let him know-without preamble, that they’re pissed and his continued existence is on their good graces unless he explains himself.

I have actually discussed this before (here-also has extra screencaps) so I won’t go too hard in detail on it.  But I do love these scenes a lot. I like that they’re allowed to be as fuming angry as they have every right to be, and that they present Copley with no bullshit. Nicky and Joe are completely on the same page. And Copley is made aware of where he stands very quickly. This is where Copley presents them with the information he’d collected in his little self driven conspiracy adventure about them, and then drops the bomb that he knows Noriko has Booker.

Around this time, Andy has more flashbacks of Lykon and her old life..including participating in slave trading of humans. (Which comes back near the end) she also meets up with Norkio. Noriko’s main belief system at present is that, they are above humans *mortals* and there is no reason to behave otherwise. They have no need to stay on the same level as mortals when they’re not.

Also around this time Nile hooks up with Agent King.

Copley gives the information about how to track Booker and Noriko to a boat that Noriko is keeping him on and Andy and Nile join them up in the nick of time. This is also where Copley informs them about how Noriko has gotten her money-organized crime..and basically whatever she can get her hands on. Which is also how Noriko has her own personal army.

‘Fancy’ Joe please.

And for whatever reason, Copley seems to think ‘undercover/distracting’ means..being as stereotypically British as possible?

Though I’ll be honest, I mostly post this cap for how badass Nicky looks.

So! Everything culminates in the boat battle, and at the end, they get Booker back, and handle Noriko. Everyone goes back to a hotel to celebrate, and things are fine until Nile asks Andy about something Noriko had told her. She’d at one point accosted Nile, and told her to ask Andy about “Law 282″ which Andy reveals is the Code of Hammurabi. Which is how they all find out about Andy’s participation in slave trades. slavery etc. Back in her more..ancient warrior days. Nile, and the others are pretty appalled and Andy has a bit of a mental breakdown and explains that she can’t carry on anymore. She won’t. She can’t keep fighting, she can’t keep doing this. Which is when Nile tells them that they have to go. 

They don’t really want to leave her, and ask her repeatedly to come with them-but she won’t. So they leave, even though Andy says she doesn’t want to be alone, they leave. (This is where I say, unless they physically forced Andy to come I don’t personally see what else they could have done without Andy fighting them, and probably figure that she’ll come around).

Next morning:

I’m not sure what ‘others’ Noriko is referring to here, but I personally think she set a lot of this up. She gave Nile that law to give back on purpose. I do wonder if it was part of a larger scheme on her end to alienate Andy from her team and swoop in, but I have no true proof of this beyond theory.

So that’s the basic summary of what happens. 

Other Points:

Noriko vs Quynh

Noriko is very very much NOT Quynh, and I don’t believe the movie is going to act as such either. I’ve seen some *legitimate* concerns with having Quynh portrayed within the movie as she is in the comics, but given the complete difference between the tone of the movies, and the comics, I think that they’ve already set it up to be different. Personally, I’m not too concerned. I have a lot of faith in Gina Prince-Bythewood, and I can already sense where they’re probably going to make alterations.

Andy/Being Abandoned

Andy’s story has some issues. It’s not..great. It is legitimately hard to reconcile the Andy we know with her past, but I don’t see the ending as the team ‘abandoning’ her to the degree it’s presented. I think they FULLY intended to give her some time to cool off and get their bearings themselves, then come back for her. She keeps telling them she won’t come, but they absolutely do try. And everyone knows that nobody forces Andy to do anything Andy doesn’t want to do.

I mean, Idk, but these just..don’t look to be the faces of people who willingly want to leave her behind.

Just Because: 

Nicky and Joe looking over Copley’s work. It’s sweet. Feat WWII Joe.

Final Thoughts

There are-without a single doubt, issues with the comics. I will never deny that. I do enjoy reading them, and I enjoy the dialogue a lot. (And Miwa’s absolutely incredible colouring). I think that there’s a definite difference in tone to them and that there are places where things could be expanded upon overall.

The comics are, as I’ve said before-Andy’s story. The other characters very much exist in support of her, and do not do a lot separately themselves. The movie is definitely more..family with them? Everyone’s personality in the comics is harsher overall. A little bit more dry and dangerous. There’s definitely less comradery with the team too and way less of a family vibe.

As characters, Nicky and Joe are very very similar to their movie counterparts, and I think they are written quite well. They seem to make decisions about what to do together, always appear on the same page *when we see them* and follow the same wavelength We get the sense that they’re completely in-sync. I also do like *though I did say it before* that they’re allowed to have the appropriate reactions and some resolution of what happened to them in Vol 1.

Nile still doesn’t feel as fleshed-out as she could be, so I’m really glad the movie put way more emphasis on her.

There’s some truly strong points in the dialogue-and I personally think dialogue and writing is one of Rucka’s strong points as a writer. Even if I still want to beg him to hire any type of historian whatsoever..and someone who can do math.

I sympathize with the math bit, this is why a helper would be good.

I’m going to wrap it up here, because holy moley this got LONG. If you’ve made it to the end, hi! Feel free to message me with any questions.

[astra-musings]

catch a break, part 2

requested? yep, continuation of a request by @faithiebrock01​

this fic includes: owen grady x ready, fluff(?), ooc? kinda? lots of question marks today

warnings: some graphic imagery, the indom kinda uh eats a person so there’s that, but i don’t think i got too much into the details so,, also im pretty sure my grammar and tenses are all over the place in this lmao

summary: chaos. that’s... kinda it. a lack of understanding and a great deal more of underestimating a genetically-engineered animal’s intelligence and abilities definitely creates a mess that you can’t even begin to clean up.

a/n: so... my last update was... apparently a month ago... im SO sorry... covid really fucked me up, it got IB exams cancelled and idk how to feel! im sorry! but uh i will definitely try to be more consistent (ahem) with updates, i feel so bad oh no but 🥺please still give this lots of loveee

word count: 1.8k+ (oops)

part 1 // part 1.5

masterlist

Your body involuntarily tensed upon entering the Indominus's enclosure. You were looking for an entire dinosaur (which, when you think about it, was weird; how did something that enormous go missing?), and yet couldn't help serenity that bubbled inside you from being in a forest and submerged in nature's sounds. Talk about conflict.

Owen immediately walks over to the claw marks, hands reaching out to trace over the whitened cement. If you didn't actually know him, you might've called him excited to be here. You knew he wasn't.

You'd only been standing in the heat for a few minutes but could already feel your clothes gradually dampening with the sweat that started to gather. "How the hell would that thing have gotten out, anyway? Not like it could've walked out without anyone seeing it."

Barely a second passes before the too-familiar sound of rustling leaves comes from behind you. Too far to be something on the ground. Too crisp to be just a few leaves you stepped on. And much too loud to be just the wind. Owen's shoulders tense visibly before he turns back to you, already trying to make sure you were close by.

Your eyes meet his in silent confirmation. It's still here.

Right before the warning signals from your brain can reach your limbs, a roar rips through the jungle-like enclosure, so deep and so loud that it vibrates in your ribcage, as though you stood too close to the speakers at a party and someone was playing bass-boosted hits.

Owen reacts before you do, grabbing your wrist and turning the other way. Your legs move on their own accord, stepping into a sprint before your brain actually registers what's happening. 

The security guard that was frozen stiff in the control room must've been keeping an eye on the two of you with the cameras while you were in the enclosure, because the reinforced gates a few feet away from you started sliding open. You only hoped you had enough time to slip through the opening before the Indominus did.

But just as you and Owen closed in on the gates, they started to close again. Owen throws the briefest glance back towards the control room, as if the guard could hear the nearly audible 'what the hell?' his face was giving off. You push the wrist he was holding towards him. Keep moving.

Adrenaline fuels your bodies, steering you and Owen on autopilot towards the gate that, at this point, seemed like it was moving further away. The gap through which you’d escape wasn't getting any wider either.

Owen reaches his hand out, extending his form, as though he was holding open the doors to an elevator. As if it would stop hundreds of tons' worth of metal and cement.

Your ears ring. Owen's body slips swiftly through the still-narrowing gap of the metal gates as his grip on your hand tightens almost painfully. A reminder that both of you were going to make it out of that enclosure. I've got you. You're with me.

And you do; you nearly crash into him as you push your legs just that much more so that you could catch up to Owen.

You turned back to look at the gates, feet still running on autopilot. Instead of seeing the gates close and finally allowing your body to come to a halt, hooked claws slipped through the seemingly too-small gap, its tips digging into the hard, layered cement as though it was anything but.

"You're fucking kidd–" You barely get the entire sentence out before Owen pulls you to the side, pushing you under an SUV as he followed a second later.

You manage to turn your head to the side, straining your eyes as you tried to gauge what the hell this animal was trying to do. Turns out, it wasn't that hard to figure out – you watched the workers' scrambling feet run across the gravel, trying to get themselves to safety, only to be followed by the too-large and too-scaly feet of the Indominus. You watched as its claws came to a brief halt behind each man and woman, before a distant thud ensued, followed by a headless or torso-less figure dropping onto the ground. You watched as those same claws grow nearer to where you and Owen were.

You gripped his hand. Your breathing was still labored, not having been able to come down off of the adrenaline that still kept you going.

Owen's hand pulls out of yours, prompting you to snap your head towards him in worry. What are you doing? Where are you going?

He seems to read your mind, nodding slightly as a response. He pulls a drop point knife from his back pocket, reached up above him and immediately started to tear apart some of the thicker linings on the underside of the vehicle.

You jab your elbow into him as silently as you could; what the hell was he doing? Was he going to blow up the car while you were still under it?!

He ignores you, continuing his relentless crusade on the wiring. Soon after Owen pulls them and empties its contents over the both of you as you scrunch your nose and eyes up. You're showered with cold liquid – water? No, water didn't stink; this was gasoline. Would this hurt the baby? Now you're really worried. You'd always trusted Owen in making decisions before, especially regarding your raptors, but now you were starting to question him for the first time.

A crunch in the gravel makes you spin your head to face the exterior of the car. It's those claws again. You'd almost forgotten about them in your, what now seems like blissful ignorance, worrying about Owen and his knife work.

Owen's hand grips your outer forearm, swiftly turning your body sideways to face him as he does the same. He didn't want you to keep looking. You feel his hand cradle your head to his chest. 

Warmth spreads across your back. No, not from what Owen was doing. It was a literal, physical warmth. Like someone turned a fan on, but it spun out hot air instead of cool air. Like what you'd feel if someone whispered so close to ear that you could feel their breath on you.

It was the Indominus. Didn't take a genius to figure that part out. Except, now that you knew what it was, your nose seemed to involuntarily hone in on the metallic hints of the air that continued to fan across the both of you. Blood.

Your eyes screw shut as you press your forehead farther into Owen as the Indominus lets out a low growl from the base of its throat. It was so close to you, you felt your chest vibrate with the sound.

Almost as quick as it came, the Indominus struts away from the vehicle, away from you. The thumps and vibrations ripple across the ground, fading with the Indominus's continuous, low growls.

The gravel shifts once more, only this time it was right next to you, and the source of the sound was Owen – one you knew and one that was much, much, more comforting than some genetically-engineered beast. Fishing for his phone, he pushes his hips up to reach into his back pocket. His fingers move deftly across the screen, swiping and punching for some currently unknown number. The hand behind your head holds you closer to his chest.

The dull ringing of the phone is interrupted, "Owen! The Indominus esc–"

"Yeah, I fucking know it escaped! You didn't see Y/N and I running for our fucking lives, Claire?!"

So it was Claire on the other end.

"Of course I saw, Owen. I saw everything. Are you okay? How's Y/N?–"

"You don't get to fucking ask how we are, Claire. You put us in that room. You put your workers, your security guards and yourself in danger. You put Y/N in danger," at the mention of your name, you lift your head away from his chest and place a hand in its place. You could tell he was getting a little heated. Ever since you'd gotten together and started working with the raptors, he'd been extra-sensitive about your getting in harm's way.

"Speaking of security guards; the one that was with us in there? Yeah, his head's just making its way down the Indominus's digestive tract. So yeah, we're fuckin’ peachy."

Silence follows on the other end. Owen heaves out a sigh, as though reluctant to be having this conversation.

"Y/N and I are gonna make our way back to you. Keep an eye on that... thing. You need to keep it the hell away from your park guests, otherwise–" Owen pauses. Not a single one of you wanted to say, or even think, about what would happen, otherwise. He hangs up with a huff.

"C'mon, baby, let's get you outta here." He slides himself out from under the car as you begin to do the same, getting to your side just as you're about to get up. He dusts off your shirt, taking your face in his hands with the gentlest cradle.

"Are you okay?" he tilts your head from one side to another, looking for injuries, "Did it getcha? Scratches? Bruises? Does it hurt anywh–"

"I'm fine, Owen," placing your hands on his forearms, you bring his frantic movements to a stop, "this head might just fall off if you move it anymore, though." You try to joke.

He lets out a breath, "S'not funny, baby. I don't know how you're still laughing after that."

"I'm just tryna make you smile, love," you give him a gentle but reassuring grin, "no, but really, I'm okay. Promise. A few scratches, I think, but that was from the gravel."

"Besides," you start, "some 40-feet tall dinosaur could never lay a claw on me." You puff your chest out comically.

Owen laughs heartily. "You're somethin' else, y'know that? God, I dunno what I'd do without you. Too strong for your own good," he pauses briefly to entwine your hands, "c'mon, we still got a long way to go before we get to the control room. We'll take the bike, yeah?"

You let out a small 'mhm' in response, smiling up at him before he turns to lead you to where his motorbike was still, supernaturally, scratch-free except for the fact that it was turned to its side.

Owen turns back to give you one last smile before letting go to pick up and reposition his bike. You take those few seconds to let your smile drop as your mind and hands wander back to your stomach for the nth time that day. 

"C'mon, Y/N," he beckons you from the now upright bike, "you alright?" He seemed to notice your sudden change in expression.

"Yeah, I'm good," you bite your tongue, not wanting to add onto his currently growing list of worries, "Let's go."

[val-bananatine]

Anyone else here having played dragon quest 11? If so; what are your thoughts about it?

To share my own, warning: a rant incoming:

I personally am a huge fan of the dragon quest series. Started with DQ9 and got so hooked that I bought as many of the older games I could find to play through, got the remake of DQ7 - and was super excited when I heard that DQ11 was on its way (I admit: I was upset about hearing that the 3ds version was only available in Japan, but hey, didn't stop me).

When I first was asked for a review on it, I was amazed and still overly happy about finally having the time to play it after months of it laying around. I... I wasn't as deep in the story yet as I thought, and the further I played, the more I noticed some flaws that started to bother me more and more.

Now I took some time to see how other players and sites viewed it and took a look at their views - and I was a little disappointed to see that those things weren't mentioned. So I will bring them up now:

Again warning: The following will heavily focus on this aspect that I criticize. This is in no way intended to make the entire game bad, it has a lot of other features which add to the image as well. It may seem like I try to make the entire game look bad by focusing on this point, but that is not the intention. The intention lies within shedding light to this and wondering if anyone else has noticed it as well.

I was disappointed to see that the main female cast was weakly represented and that a lot of their lives and backstories revolve around men. Like yeah that can happen but it was 2017 at the release and I feel like we can give more representation than the stereotype, especially when that doesn't happen in just ONE of the female main characters, but in a lot of them (gladly, not all).

To the start of the game: Stereotypically we've got the main protagonists childhood friend who obviously seemed to have a crush on him, and later on was very focused on him. I really didn't mind that because it's just so known I just shrugged it off.

A little later we meet our first female team mates, the twins Veronica and Serena. Was I the only one who was a little weirded out that they introduced themselves (and apparently were raised with that view too) as their sole purpose being to serve and aid the hero? As the story progressed further, I honestly was pretty bothered by how their lives seemed to always have revolved around that and their future apparently only consisting of being the heros’ shield and aid. Gladly much later on in the game we found out about Veronica's life goals, it wasn't much to equal it, but I was glad to see.

It gets weird for me at Jade, the hero's "adopted sister" (Their kingdoms were super close and she explained multiple times how she felt and acts like his big sister). Her first introduction is overly focusing on s*xualizing her (who tf would give her such an outfit for a martial arts fighter anyways? This detailed boob cupping isn't protecting her chest at all), we didn't know then about that family thing. Even more bothers me everything at the Casino where she's been brainwashed by a monster into a flirty bunny girl with a heart choker and uses s*xual styled attacks, on our hero as well like flirting with him. Knowing that family lore made the fight super uncomfortable for me. There's more about what they could possibly be hinting on that happened to her, but I will not go into detail about this as it is highly triggering.

So here we've got our team... but you know what else bothered me? How some of the female villains were portrayed. The MOST disappointing by FAR was Crystalinda for me. Introduced as an incredibly powerful witch in the century of legends where even the strongest mage couldn't defeat her without help of the monsters, a woman who terrorized an entire kingdom and more with just a snap of her fingers - fcking strong and badass. You know what happened to her? They turned her into a moaning mess who lusted after the first guy that found her book. She was obsessed by thinking he's hot and wanting to be his bride, her talking was mostly accompanied by moaning. Reasoned because she was "so lonely and he was the first to talk to her again". Bro tf did you do to this badass woman?! Idc that you reason in her info box that she's a "hopeless romantic". You could have also just not added that, give us a strong villain tf who doesn't melt because one (1) man appeared.

Or the woman with the other world behind the fresco, I only know her German name now and I think I remember that it's different in English. Ruins of one of the most powerful kingdoms back then, she probably was the powerful ruler of it - and she is obsessed with being the grand villains bride. Uh-

TW: MENTION OF S**CIDE

I could also comment on the Mermaid Mishelle, whose entire point of existence was that she fell in love with a man and waited decades for him to come back; only to k*ll herself when she found out that he passed away a long while ago (I did cry though at that story, it was very emotional).

But to be fair: you've also got strong women who don't rely on that as their story. The woman who raised the hero (German name is Petra) and was loved by the whole village and was a strong woman with a strong mind, but of course was a very caring mom too.

Or the queen of the mermaids, her German name is Marina and I love it. She's strong, majestic, wise, and has her heart with her people. There do exist strong females in the more main character section, of course, but a majority is catering for men or being s*xualized in favor of them, and I think that the team could have done better on that.

Now, not all other games have done much better. In DQ5 an important plot is that one man demands to marry one of his daughters or your childhood friend in exchange for a much needed child. But I also remember characters of other games who had more personality than catering. And that's on that.

Story wise it's awesome. Being perceived as an evil by some instead of the hope as always? Hell yeah THAT is a change (my guess is that both, the term "luminary" and "dark spawn" are correct, depending on whose side you look at. Ofc the monsters would fear him and see him as evil, his point is to banish them and keep them away). Well... to Act 2 at least. I don't want to talk about Act 3, but that is a personal preference. Some may like doing everything again from an arc with some changes and a different starting situation... I absolutely hate that, because it gives me the feeling of having done everything before for nothing. And no- I don't wanna sacrifice deep friendships and understandings, redemption arcs and clearing past things up, helping some people out of misery, to get one person back, and lose everything of that in return because only I travel back to that point. And it gets way worse after that anyways.

The writing is... good. It had some of these things you see in "DON'T do that" writing advice blogs (eg awful sibling dialogue in showing how they're siblings) - but I think those flaws in some scenes only stood out to me because I dealt with these blogs just a bit before playing.

Some sites say it's "the best game of the franchise so far", do I agree with that? No. It's a moderate to good game, it has some very nice new mechanics (some which sadly don't have any practical use. Eg being able to walk freely in battles but it doesn't affect that ur getting hit no matter where you stand) and a new interesting story with good throwbacks to older, by now traditional, game settings - but the "new" here wasn't nearly impressing me as much as new things did in previous games. And there's also this flaw with having a problem in diverse and strong female main characters. This isn't to excuse the game mechanics of some of the previous games which sometimes also have a very shitty stereotype dominating (See DQ5) - but again: especially in 2017 (release of the game), where we've an uprising demand and change in better representation of women other than negative stereotypes and flat characters, I would expect a better development of the characters. At least that this problem doesn't take up a good majority.

And you know- amazing graphics (I have to give them that, that was fantastic) aren't the only requirement to be the best game of the series. In fact, graphics should play a minor role as a game can be capturing and fascinating without having the most realistic or detailed graphics. It's about the content in it. So yeah, it's an overall good game, but I wouldn't call it the best - and I really want to encourage a by far better representation on the next game. U can do better.

And yeah, it is a part of many to complete this game, but it sadly was a part that bothered me more the more I played it. Because when I first noticed that one character was bad representation, I took a closer look at the others to see if they do better, and unfortunately a lot didn’t. So please improve this next time, let us have deep female characters again who are strong and badass.

[sugar-petals]

the scaffolding (m)

⌞ Jungkook paints your house. He blocks the panoramic view. You take no issue with that.

⌞ pairing | jjk x graphic designer!reader  ⌞ word count | 4.5k  ⌞ warnings | mild injury, swearing  ⌞ genre | slice of life, fluff  ⌞ content | sexual tension, muscle kink, massaging ♡

September. The first week. The weather is stable since Thursday, a lot of tourists are in town. Your phone won’t stay silent either. Clients, clients, clients. There’s not a single unhurried day in your house. You tell yourself to stay focused. 

Because nature still inspires best, the windows to the first floor home office enable you to glance across an ample panorama. A lake, mountains in the distance, meadows, some occasional mist in the mornings although the sun does come out later quite a lot. 

A very rural outlook, mature. And yet, it’s been boring you as of lately. You need some aesthetic change in your life. But since you can’t roll your desk to the other side of the house — where the windows aren’t as large anyways — and can’t really move the mountains aside either, you dare an experiment. A designer thinks in counterintuitive terms. What if you change something about what you project outward to the landscape instead of altering the landscape itself? The idea is to hire someone who will paint your house in an interesting color. 

The legal framework is loose enough for you to go with a very deep cobalt blue type of shade. Friendly and upbeat Kim Seokjin from the local painter’s bureau, Kim Constructions, invites you for discussing the details and going through color books. The resulting sum is quite hefty since your house is moderately large with rather complicated architecture to climb around, but everyone at the bureau is very helpful. September is the perfect time of the year. Seokjin arrives two days later to inspect the building from the outside, taking notes, then asks a few questions about the history of the house, looks around again, and vanishes as silently as he arrived. When you glance out of the window seven days after, there’s already a scaffolding in place. Deckings, ties, braces, and transoms everywhere. While you’re busy editing flyers for the upcoming winter festival, there’s plenty of hammering, van maneuvering, and more loud motion outside. 

While you did want something new to quench the boredom, now you believe it backfired in the worst of ways since painting sure will take a while. Instead of feeling inspired, all you are is distracted. You do ponder moving your tablets, the laptops, the screen, and the other paraphernalia for the time being. But yet, another client rings through and asks whether you can meet the deadline for the wedding cards. You say yes, they’re almost done, you print them in two days, goodbye, you’ve asked for the fifth time. Moving the office won’t get rid of the nervous wreck type of callers either, no amount of reassurance ever helps. it’s starting to rub off on you, in fact. So you plug your headphones in and distract yourself from the distraction outside, and have a reason to ignore the phone blowing up every twenty minutes. Anything of importance would come via email anyways. 

You drag fonts around the screen and adjust colors when a shadow steps in between you and the 11 AM sun outside. It startles you to the point of almost falling off your chair. It’s a brunette guy in a red tank top, bib, moderately tall, carrying a full bucket of paint toward the right side of the scaffolding. Judging by how he balances along the scene and then disappears, the guy didn’t notice you. The flyers aren’t so important anymore. You put down your headphones and try to glance across the room, toward the corner of the window where he went out of sight but not out of mind. And he does come back a minute later, without the bucket. This time, the guy gazes into your direction. He looks surprised. A feeble greeting hand, a bow, you bow back, then nod. Expressionless staring. He gestures around with a paint roller in his left hand. Then he moves on. You’re quite puzzled. He seems to be the worker, and you know that there are about three of them, that’s responsible for your side of the house where the office is. 

It’s hard dragging fonts again, and the music stays off. Another anxious client’s call is quite convenient to make it look like you’re all professional and busy when the guy returns peeking across the scaffold on a ladder with a mixing laddle, and fumbling around with a trim guide. You don’t want to disturb the workers. At the same time, you want to look at him. The client, Mister Park, keeps on babbling about how he needs his fancy bright website banners by the end of the month, that his revenue depends on it, and only calms down once you send him a screenshot about how much you’re already advanced. 

In the meantime, the brunette guy is gone again. Seokjin is on the scaffold now, but you can only see his arms stirring paint. The flyers are half done by the end of the hour, your tea cup is empty, and you figure it’s time to go to the kitchen to get yourself another drink. Hungry you are not yet, but already play with the thought of throwing some noodles in the Wok later for lunch at 1 PM, with some leftovers and a spicy sauce. Once the tea bag blurs out the hot water in your mug into a deep fruity strawberry red, you pace around the house, smartphone switched on, going through your social media. Nothing of real importance. A few likes on there, a comment here. More emails waiting. You end up strolling to the balcony —

And walk in on the guy, back turned to you. Pulling off his tank top standing on the first floor scaffold, and tossing it down to land on the hood of the Kim Constructions van. Your sharp exhale makes him flinch and turn around within the blink of an eye. His voice, high-pitched, cracks in a matter of seconds.

“I’m, I’m sorry! Thought you were workin’ on the other side!”

He covers his chest with both arms crossed before it.

Don’t look at his body. Don’t look at his body. He’s not comfortable with it.

You’re startled for a solid moment, too. Frozen.

“I, uh, made some tea,” you shove the mug toward his direction, eye to eye, desperate not to trail off below. “It’s very cold in September. I mean, out here.”

“Yes, it’s cold,” the guy says, pretty much sweating, but he takes the cup anyways, further disclosing his torso. You keep your head up stiff.

Don’t look at his body. Just a painter doing his job. Relax. You gave him a drink, that’s all. 

“Really sorry, I hope the tea is okay.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N, you didn’t have to do that. And I’m just a klutz, just walkin’ around like this. I hope I don’t cause an inconvenience. That’s too kind, you really didn’t have to prepare tea.”

You shake your head with too much vehemence for it to be normal. The guy starts sipping from the cup and almost burns his lips, but tries to play it off immediately by nodding at you more then necessary.

“I just saw you’re working hard, and Seokjin, I think, he can have a cup, too? There’s someone else, too, your co-workers—”

“Namjoon. But I think he’s allergic. Yeah. All sorts of allergies.”

“Oh, allergic. Sorry for that. And you are?”

“JK. Jungkook, um. Seokjin is always callin’ me JK. And Kookie, he thinks I look like one.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m not allergic to cookies.”

“Me neither!”

Someone shouts from the other side of the house. Jungkook looks around.

“Uh, I gotta go. See you, Miss! I mean, if you want! I let that cup cool here, I pick it up in a minute.”

And he sprints around the corner. The scaffolding still vibrates after he’s gone and you hear a discussion from the East side of the house. You click the balcony door shut and sink down in the living room on the carpet. What on earth does he make you say. What on earth did he say. This JK guy. Allergic to kookies. Allergic to tea. What on earth. At least you managed to get a conversation together instead of awkward silence. So, Jungkook is his name. Seokjin thinks he looks like a cookie. But Jungkook is not allergic to that. And it’s icy cold in September, of course, especially when he walks around without his tank top. All that staring at screens has been making you dizzy. 

You drink a glass of juice in the kitchen, grab your light-weight beige jacket, phone, tablet, and exit the house for a walk. Gladly, Kim Construction’s van parked at the other end of the house where Jungkook likely still climbs around. You can go to the lake and get moving, all day in a seat won’t do your body any good. Any important task you can do on your tablet anyways. And pass the time. You think about how bizarre it must have been for Jungkook to first get caught in the middle of stripping, being offered a teacup as a lousy excuse, almost burning his tongue, and having to hear about cold weather with the sun out.

Mister Park calls when you observe toddlers collecting stones at the beach, and the animals that make them wonder. He wants a certain color adjustment, the theme has changed, the mood has to be different. Even brighter, everything. The changes you can employ through your tablet, but not actually alter your very own mood until you get the idea to visit an ice cream parlor about two hours later. It’s their last day, they’re closing down until the end of May next year. For a reason easily explicable to you after thinking twice, you order a strawberry ice cream sundae. A big portion, with fruit, because the Wok— you postponed. 

All because you thought your panorama was boring and wanted a blue house. Sitting at the dock seems to bring up more worries than that, just being completely thrown off balance, not having your shit together. Eating strawberries at least makes you a little more tolerable to yourself at least. You wish you could mute your phone to avoid further pestering by client XYZ asking for a new layout until Friday. But who could blame them. Their expectations were high, too. All you can do it type around on your tablet to get the wedding cards finalized with the right type of swirl in the golden frames. The children play and fool around against the raging will of their respective parents, but they don’t care. They keep on throwing stones into the water until they’re satisfied. The sundae is gone all too soon and you’re still hungry. 

You take a picture of the orange, crimson sun lowering itself onto the horizon, the lighthouse from the harbor at the outer end, with sailing boats, and of course, the mountains. Maybe it’s a picture Jimin’s banners could look good with, you realize, and zoom in. You almost overlook it, but at a second glance, you see a familiar red shade on the harbor wall. HEX #ED2939, imperial red. You know that one from somewhere. Putting the tablet down, you gaze where you believe the color is supposed to be down the docks. Quite far away, near the lighthouse in fact, but you do see a silhouette. Now you decide to walk closer. That red is really striking, resembling the dusky sky. Coming closer, the silhouette turns and waves at you . 

“Good to see you! Y/N! How’s it goin’?”

It’s Jungkook, looking a bit silly with paint on his cheeks, and a flat white box in his hands. It really is gigantic. He sits at the dock in black sweatpants, seemingly watching birds by himself.

“After-work hours?”

At first, you hesitate, but then crouch down on the harbor wall next to him, legs crossed. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. You can smell that he reapplied whatever spray deodorant was likely available in the van.

“We finished the Northern side an hour ago or so. But, uh, you look more exhausted than any of us!”

“I don’t know. And good job, Seokjin didn’t lie about being fast.”

“Have a slice,” Jungkook opens the white box for you to peer into. Now you realize what it’s for. Pizza Funghi. “We ordered way too much. And Namjoon was havin’ an allergic reaction.”

Jungkook’s mindless nodding returns when you make a ‘really, can I?’ glance at the pizza.

“What reaction? He’s allergic to pizza?”

“Oh, I think I have to explain that,” Jungkook tugs at the hems of his tank top. “It’s some sort of insider joke. Namjoon’s on a diet since he ate and drank too much at the summer festival. Or fasting, we don’t get it. Whenever he sees foods and drinks he freaks out. Jin came up with that joke, don’t ask me why.”

In passing, he hands you a napkin for your lap.

“Wasn’t the summer festival exactly about food and drink? The slogan was culinary joys or something.”

The pizza is pretty crispy when you bite into it. Jungkook looks at you munch with big eyes.

“You got some memory right there. I don’t even remember whether I went there or not!”

“I designed the posters,” you mumble, “that’s what I’m busy with in the office.”

“Hey, that’s a cool job. Wish I did that. Been dreamin’ of some more artistic work.”

“Sure, we can swap. I climb on the ladders with a hammer, you take phone calls.”

“Not good at that. I’d just collapse. You likin’ the pizza? Take the rest if you want.”

Jungkook parts his bangs with a hand, getting the strands out of his eyes. His eyebrows are quite strong, unlike his soft eyes looking at you from their corners because Jungkook faces the lighthouse, letting his legs dangle off the dock’s edge.

“Topping’s nice and chewy,” you rub the corners of your mouth with the napkin and get another slice. “You enjoyed your tea?”

“Definitely warm now. Jin was lookin’ at me weird and asked where it’s from.”

“I’ll get you two some more tomorrow. Is peppermint okay? Running out of strawberry tea.”

“As long as we leave Namjoon alone with his water bottles and apples, you can do just about anythin’.”

The children’s laughter disappears. You finish the third slice when the sun is close to setting. Even the bustling people from the ice cream parlor disperse, and the staff cover the windows with curtains from the inside. Jungkook makes you laugh when, accompanied by funny faces, he reduces the giant pizza cardboard box to nothing but a ball of paper with bare hands, and tosses it right into a bin — ironically, the wrong one for plastic. After tucking it into the adjacent paper can, alongside the napkin, Jungkook balances on the dock and talks about Namjoon’s whimsical adventures on the festival where his shades flew off on a carousel until you suggest to go to the lighthouse. 

“Want a good picture I can use for an edit. Maybe from the top. The lantern room has a railing all around. Probably a good view.”

Jungkook agrees quite heartily, but once you do reach the white tower, perhaps 45 feet high, any rattling at the door latch is futile.

“Closed,” Jungkook sighs. “For ages, I guess. It doesn’t look functional. I’ve never seen a keeper around here anyways.” 

But you already point to the left-hand side of the lighthouse that faces the sea.

“Talk about ladders. Look at that.”

“Huh?”

“There’s nobody around.” You tuck your tablet into the inside chest pocket of your jacket.

Jungkook gazes around. 

“Oh... I get what you mean. Anythin’ for a good shot,” he advances, testing out the metal steps planted to the outside of the lighthouse in regular gaps. “It’s not much different from a scaffoldin’, I think.”

“My very thoughts. Are the steps not rusty or slippery?”

“Not really, just a bit narrow, kinda antique. But it’ll do. For me it’s easy at least. But are graphic designers always that reckless?”

“My clients depend on it. We gotta be quick before it sets, I need the colors to be bright.”

Jungkook already climbs a few test steps up and down. It looks more than agile.

“Wait, I figure this out,” he fumbles around, relocates his balance back and forth. “Can you do this?”

“No, I ain’t stupid. If you can carry me, we’re faster, too.”

Jungkook takes the final step with a cough. You unwind your iron clasp around his hip and neck. He still smells like that deodorant. Even up here, where the wind carries all scent away fast. You both climb over the railing, the lantern room right before you. 

“Hey, we’re not dead! That was awesome. Athletics 101!”

“Doin’ this every day,” Jungkook fastens his tank top, bashful now. “Gotta be good at least somethin’.” 

You holding onto him caused the top to slip sidewards. It almost makes you forget to take the picture until he points at your jacket where the tablet is stored.

“Your turn, Miss.”

“Clouds look just right,” you nod, “was a good idea.”

Click. A quick shot for a start. Click. One with longer exposure time. Click. You turn the tablet by 90°. Click. Now diagonal. You crop the second last picture, then change a filter, add text, ponder for half a minute, then create a panoramic view. Jungkook watches with intent, picking at the paint on his cheeks without even noticing. You change positions three times to look for a better angle, without the railing in the way. Concentration. You hold the tablet still.

“Never knew how this works,” he ruffles his hair around a few feet to the right. “Looks like one hell of a job.”

You tuck away your tablet again, realizing that the brightness of the horizon already fades. The five pictures have to suffice.

“Hopefully. Only worried about getting down again.”

“I’ll figure this out.”

Jungkook, instead of going to the railing the way you expected it, walks to the lantern house. Indeed, hidden by white paint, there’s a door. He twists the knob at the very side twice, then frowns a little, changes directions, walks to the harbor side of the platform. You can hear a knocking, clattering, then a screeching noise. 

“Come around if you’re finished! Found somethin’. Way down.”

His voice is a little silent given that the breeze is strong. But you do walk half the circular to reach him. He squats down at an open hatch in the floor. 

“No ladder. But I think the room down there isn’t too steep.”

“Hey, you genius! What’s that?”

“The livin’ quarters. Sure we find a key there to exit the lighthouse from the inside. Don’t know how else.”

“But you really wanna get in there, like, fall? It does look steep! And how can I—”

Jungkook already rubs his palms against each other, bends his knees three times, then sits legs downward at the edge of the square opening. 

“I think pizza makes people do reckless things in general,” he hums to himself, then glides off the hatch into the room. The rebound isn’t as loud as you thought. You gaze down the hatch to see Jungkook, already upright, pop and gyrate his knees, then stretch his arms toward you. 

“O.K.,” he nods his head, bangs swiped to either side of his face.

“Just the same as you did?”

“Part your legs a bit. Don’t wanna get knocked out. Catch you halfway, arms forward. And don’t bite your tongue or somethin’. Other than that, hm. Guess that’s it.”

“Take this first,” you unzip your jacket, cast it off backwards, then let it hang down as far as the length of your right arm permits. The tablet weighs it down quite a lot. Jungkook plucks it out of the air like it’s nothing, rests it to his side, yet out of reach. He rubs his palms against each other again.

“Don’t think too much, Miss Y/N.”

“Oh man, poor pizza in my stomach,” you sit down at the edge now, leg to either side parted wide, arms forward. Jungkook stretches his hands further up toward the hatch opening.

“Think you’re good to go.” 

“Get ready.”

And you slip down. 

Jungkook’s exhale doesn’t reach the outside world. Instead, you’re the one to breathe out groaning. Holding on tight. With his torso between your legs, rock-hard.

“Oh gosh, hurts! Oh, fuck!”

A quick sting of pain. When you feel your hands at the back of his neck, finally, you gather your senses. Look down. He did catch you. He did. Jungkook keeps on muffling. 

“You okay?”

You lean back to un-burry his face from your breasts.

“Boobs are a curse! Ouch, ugh.”

Jungkook lets you down, slowly. The inside of your thighs glide off his waist.

“Rest for a moment, Y/N. That takes a minute.”

“I quit my dream of climbing around.”

“You’re no athlete. I practice this all the time, too. There’s a bed over there.” 

The pain still remains. Your eyes dart around the living quarters. The room is surprisingly spacious, perhaps because it’s rounded. The keeper left everything in perfect order. Equally, the bed looks like a promising comfort. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, my face was just in the way,” Jungkook removes the bed’s duvet with its layer of dust on it, then sits at the edge, eagle eyes on how you lower yourself, then lay down on the mattress. 

“Give me a second,” you groan into your sleeve. “Feel like passing out. Shit is like a groin kick.”

“If you distract yourself, it’s easier. Takes your mind off. Just tell me.”

Hesitation. But your mind shortcuts right away.

“Just— Come over. I need your hands.”

Jungkook swiftly gets his Timbs off. They tumble next to your jacket on the ground.

“What should I do,” he moves closer, kneeling next to your torso. You can feel his warmth.

“Here,” you point at your sternum. Jungkook takes his right to hover above the spot, palm facing downwards. His left hand is propped up beside your shoulder, creating a dent you sink down with.

“Put it— Like this?”

“Back and forth. Like, massaging or something.”

“Got it.”

He is very warm. And it helps. The sting, with every rub, eases. His palm is very broad, but light on your body. You can smell his deodorant again, but with a bit of sweat mixing in. Tinged bitter, but still sweet. You like it. Perhaps he wasn’t so wrong about distraction. Perhaps you were not so wrong about boredom. His touch takes away from the tightness in your chest the longer he circles his fingers into the spot between your breasts that gently part for his motions.

“Feels better, Kookie. Keep on.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook continues rubbing until the pain is wearing off, numbing, at least. The way he retreats his hand makes the bed shake a little because he shifts his weight, and the dent is gone. You’re looking at him now—

Something clinks on the floor. Strangely metallic. A noise more silent than you actually thought it was. You’re both startled. Looking around. Everything is blank.

“What was that? Is someone coming? Shit, shit!”

“Miss, wait a second.”

He peeks over the edge of the bed where the noise came from. You sit up. He’s chuckling. Then, he picks up a little silver item.

“Look at that.”

“Oh?”

He’s laughing. 

“I think that’s the key. Keeper stored it under the mattress.”

“That was the shock of my life!”

“Your chest’s better, then,” Jungkook picks up the key and drops it on the dusty nightstand. “Gotta say, that was, uh, I was bein’ stupid. Namjoon knows how to catch paint buckets like that, he’s probably the only one lookin’ graceful.”

“To each their own talent. To each their own mishap. His shades flew off.”

You kick off your own trainers, adjust on the bed after removing the dust-covered pillow gently not to cause a stir in the air. 

“We were searching for an hour or so,” Jungkook scratches his head. “It flew far, you know.”

“He seriously needs to read the safety instructions next time.”

“We climbed on a lighthouse, can’t preach to him ‘bout that I think. Pics will be pretty cool though.”

“I’ve had my climbing, you had some art stuff today.”

“Always learnin’ somethin’.”

The duvet is back in place, as is the pillow, the hatch closed with the makeshift help of a broomstick. You tap down the stairwell that smells a lot like sea, jacket back on, with the light from your tablet illuminating the way down. Jungkook, in his Timbs, is ready to dodge bats or spiders, but the staircase isn’t too webby and dusty. Only the stairs are a bit grimy. 

“Need the biggest shower of my life,” he grits, balancing downwards. 

“I can drive you home if you want. How did you get to my house earlier?”

“By bike, it’s parked at the harbor. My house isn’t too far away. Gettin’ there in ten minutes.”

“Ah, okay.”

After you get to the bottom of the tower, the key turns in the lock with less ease than you thought. Instead, you turn the knob and the door pops open with a creak.

“Opens from the inside only,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh. “I’ll get the key back to where it was.”

You hand him the tablet faithfully, and in the matter of a minute, he’s back to hand it to you. The bike in question is indeed not very far. As red as his tank top, chained before the beautiful mountain scenery. There’s fog coming up already.

“Don’t have any tea available I’m afraid.”

“Will get warm when I’m pedallin’,” he removes the lock from the bike with a number code, then puts on the helmet attached to it. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/N. I try not to walk past your office too often.”

“Oh, my clients will be more than satisfied, I’ll have more time to lean back. Got a lot of work done today. If you want, I cook something in the Wok for everyone at lunch. Tit for tat. I liked your pizza, Kookie.”

“Tit for tat?”

“You don’t know that expression? It’s not because of my boobs. They’re fine now.”

“Ah— uh, sorry for that again.”

“Tit for tat just means, ah, compensation. Back and forth. I’ll treat you to something, hm.”

“Sure it’s gonna be delicious.”

“We’ll help Namjoon get over his allergy as well. I’m confident.”

Jungkook’s eye smile appears under the brim of his helmet. You ask whether you can take a picture with your phone before he leaves. Oh sure, Miss, he says, adjusts the tank top. You zoom in a bit, center his face. There’s still a bit of blue paint on his nose. Click!

© 2017-2019 submissive-bangtan. All rights reserved. Do not translate, repost, or modify. a/n: A little soft queued treat for you while I’m on hiatus. Love you cubs.

[thewrittenromance]

Business Card (skinny!Steve Rogers x reader)

Summary: Tony’s ‘medicine’ messed with Steve’s serum and now he has to deal with his insecurities and sudden company!

WordCount: 2047

Warnings: N/A

A/N: N/A

“What the hell is this Stark?” snapped Steve Rogers as he burst into the room. Tony looked up startled and his eyebrows raised even farther up.

“Whoa, what happened here, Rogers? Reverse growth spurt?” But despite his sarcasm, Tony was quite concerned. It could be from-

“That medicine you gave me! You said it should temporarily alter some of the serums affects so it can heal me with more ease and then this? Explain yourself!” Steve shouted, his small frame and his attempt to walk intimidatingly at Stark almost made Tony laugh. Instead he scoffed to cover up his laughter at the sight and focus on the ordeal.

“It should only alter some things, but not..this-” tony said standing, “Let me call Cho, she might be able to help. I’m not a doctor you know.”

Steve went red in the face at that comment, “Are you implying that you did not get medical advice on a medicinal invention you gave me?”

Stark paused, “Maybe- it was to help save your life, Cap!”

“It’s medical experimentation!”

“Oh yeah, like you had any problem with that in the 40’s!” Tony shouted.

Both men stared at each other, Tony was growling and glaring. Steve had his shoulders hunched and his fisted balled in anger. HIs fair complexion looked ruddy and red in his anger.

“Look, I’ll call Cho, we’ll talk, see what we can do. The others are going on the mission later tonight, Vision can stay with you,” Tony sighed going to grab his phone.

Steve crossed his arms and glared as Tony spoke on the phone to Helen Cho and he hung up as quickly as he called.

“I’m going to her lab, we’ll figure something out, Cap, stay in tonight, don’t do...anything stupid,” Tony advised grabbing his other supplies and something from a file cabinet. Who knew he could be organized?

“Oh,” Tony said as he raced out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Steve called going after him.

“I’ve got a designer coming in later today to get some measurement and stuff for the downstairs offices, let them in and show them around, should be coming around three-” Tony shouted already pressing the close doors button on the elevator. Steve slammed his small fist into the doors, “tony!” he shouted to no avail. He groaned, he’d have to hide in his room until they figured all this out. No one would stop asking questions or possibly even make fun of him if they found him like this.

But then there was the designing person, the designer. Steve touched his arm, frail and thin once more, he rubbed at it and quietly made his way to his room. The mirror in the hallway had his catch his reflection. He stared at himself. It was so strange. His clothes were gargantuan on his small body, hanging everywhere. There was probably no clothes anywhere that would fit him well. Even back in the forties, everything was loose on him. His hair flapped over his forehead and he pushed it back as he had always once done. It was all familiar.

Steve finally pulled himself away from the mirror and hid away in his room, doodling old memories the best he could. If he dwelled on his appearance any longer he just knew his old insecurities would come back. And they already were, he was DREADING having to speak with the designer.

Before he realized it, it was three, and Vision knocked on the door to inform him of the designer's arrival. Steve looked up and slowly went to the door. He had to brace himself.

Waiting in the lobby of the tower, stood a woman, dressed in a salmon dress that touched the floor, but it was casual, she had on a blazer and a toolbox in one hand and thick folders in the other.

“Hello, I’m (y/n), i’m here to inspect the offices, from (y/l/n)’s Design Work,” she said formally and shifted the weight of the paper to not get too heavy.

“Yes, of course, ma’am, right this way, would you like me to carry some of those papers for you?” Steve asked he felt his face heat up when the woman eyed him head to toe. Was he THAT skinny that the woman didn’t even think he could carry papers!?

“I-I can carry them,” he started to say firmly but he almost gasped when the papers came flying at them.

“Yes, please, thank you very much, they’re pretty heavy and I carried them two blocks cause that cabbie couldn’t get close enough to the building with parking and all. Hectic out there,” she said and switched the toolbox to her other hand. She looked at him again, he was a small man, blonde, with light colored eyes. She smiled, he must have been an intern or something. He was a much better improvement from the last intern she worked with who’d just been offered a job at the firm she’d been hired to design for. Rude, condescending, and disgustingly sexist.

“Is it?” Steve said attempting to hold the conversation. He struggled to click the elevator button when they got there, he was starting to feel out of breath, what papers did the woman have? Or was the loss of the serum’s effects?

“I got it,” (y/n) said quickly and smacked the button as she stood beside him, “you got the papers I got the buttons.” She smiled at him as the elevator dinged open and she stepped in. Steve stepped in beside her.

“What floor?” (y/n) asked, looking at him again, he was quite the shy one.

“Three,” Steve answered. (y/n) pressed the button and they stood there in comfortable silence. At least to her. Steve itched to make conversation.

“So um, what do you do?” He asked.

(y/n) looked right at him, “what do i do?” She couldn’t help but laugh, he was so awkward it was endearing so far!

“I’m a designer, as you know, I do interior design and graphic design, lots of art stuff, thank god it’s on the more practical side, i was going to do fine arts, but in this economy, yeah right!” (y/n) said her words like a fountain. It was only then that Steve realized she had an accent. He couldn’t place it though. It made sense though, she wasn’t white, she probably did speak a second language!

“I-I like to draw,” was Steve’s response, why did he have to say that? Peggy was right, he had NO idea how to talk to women, even in this day and age.

“Really? Cool, like what? Still life, portrait, anime?” (y/n) said as the elevators opened, she walked briskly out and Steve shuffled out after her from the weight of the papers. Damn the remnants of asthma.

“Portrait and still life mostly,” Steve said out of the breath and then gestured with his head toward one of the offices.

“Nice, I can’t paint a person to save my life, come out looking like a crappy clay sculpture,” (y/n) grinned and waltzed into the office, it was an empty grey room with one desk and chairs piled in a corner.

“Oh god, look at this place, ugh, no one he needed a designer, huh?” (y/n) laughed and pointed to the desk, “go ahead and put the files there, i’m going to start taking the room’s measurements. Wait- is there water around here? I knew i left that water bottle in the cab! Damn it-”

“I���ll go get you a water bottle ma’am,” Steve said quickly.

“(y/n),” She corrected, “call me (y/n), not ma’am, what am i? Fifty? I’m just as young as you honey.”

“Right okay, i’ll be right back,” Steve chuckled. He quickly made his way to the kitchen, this woman was funny and pretty laid back. He kinda liked her. He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that now. Especially not like this. Women never liked him then, he doubted they’d like him now.

He was quick to take the water to (y/n) who thanked him again and downed the bottle in a second. He stared.

“What? It’s warm out and i’m working!” (y/n) defended and grinned before crouching again to measure.

“So,” She asked then, “how do you like working for Stark? Or do you work with Ms. Potts?”

Steve was confused, “excuse me? I dont- work for?”

(y/n) looked up, “You don’t work here? Aren’t you an intern?”

An intern. She thought he was an intern. She didn’t even recognize him either! He had to cover his ass quick.

“Oh, I work with Pepper, she’s uh, much nicer,” Steve replied.

“I bet, she was the one who gave me all of Mr.Stark’s information and details, i wasn’t even able to talk to him on the phone. I thought I’d see him here today to get some more info but, hey what can you do.”

“He’s off doing some research actually, he left in the morning.” “Make sense, do me a favor and pass me the third folder please,” she said pointing to the file pile.

“Thank you,” she chirped as she grabbed the file from him and flipped through it quickly.

“Is that pink?” Steve asked peeking over her shoulder.

“Huh?” (y/n) said startled, she didn’t realize he was that close. She tried to stand but lost her balance and tipped over. She dropped the file, Steve grabbed the file, though its contents still spilled out, but much more importantly, he grabbed her. (y/n) gripped his arm tightly and gladly accepted his help in standing. “Whooph! That was crazy!” (y/n) exclaimed, “give a girl a heart attack will you!” But she was smiling so Steve knew it wasn’t that serious, just an expression.

“Thanks, but I think i’m gonna have to crouch again to pick up all this stuff, don’t leave I might fall again,” she teased and Steve laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you ma’am,” Steve said sheepishly. Only to be met by her stern look as she stood up again. They stood nearly eye to eye, though he had to admit, she was still a tad smaller.

“(y/n)!” he nearly shouted. She was taken aback and they stared at one another for quite a long moment before (y/n) doubled over in laughter, it was contagious and they both were laughing uncontrollably now.

(y/n) wiped a tear from her eyes and grinned, “oh man- that was good, i haven’t had a laugh like that in forever.”

Steve was grinning from ear to ear with this woman and he felt genuinely happy. He all but forgot about his situation.

They went quiet again and Steve let her work instead of distracting her. It was barely five when she finished up and he led her quietly down to the lobby and the exit.

She bit her lip and paused as Steve opened the door for her.

“Hey, are you doing anything right? Like..it’s five, and work ends right? Or do you work like real late?”

Steve was surprised, why would she care?

“Um..till late,” he lied.

“Oh okay..well, uh, here, my business card,” she said scribbling something on it, juggling with her toolbox and papers. Steve took it politely, not that he might be in need of her services anytime soon.

“Well, have a good night (y/n),” Steve waved and (y/n) smiled back

“You too, mister- hey, i never got your name! All this time!” “Steve,” he said and she nodded.

“Nice to meet you Steve, may we meet again,” and with that she seemed to hail a cab out of nowhere and she climbed in, giving him one last wave from her seat.

Steve watched the cab go and then looked back to the business card. Her name, her number, her address, email, and hours. On the front side was her business name (y/l/n)’s Design Work and just below it ‘CALL/TEXT ME.’

Steve’s eyes boggled. He nearly fainted in the doorway. He made quick to his room to add her number to his phone. He was definitely going to call her.

[rossmallo]

I'm going to start with the main point of my discussion, as a sort of pre-emptive TLDR. After 12 years of playing, I am now done with Runescape, and Menaphos was the straw that broke the camel's back. It has shown, in no uncertain terms, what the future is going to hold, and it is a future I do not want to pay to be a part of. Jagex needs to learn its limitations, not overwork their employees to the point it results in inferior, sloppy work, and focus on quality over quantity. Because if the current trend of updates continues, I won't be the last to quit over it.

So yeah, that's the TLDR – Be warned, I am going to go into total ramble / Purple Prose mode here, because this has been on my mind for a while and I just want to process it by getting it out in writing.

Runescape has been a game I have had an interesting past with, my interest and liking for it ebbing and flowing as time went on. I've loved it, I've hated it, and everything in between. But, after several things just repeatedly chipping away at me, my faith in the game has now completely evaporated. I want to like the game, I really do, but the truth of the matter is no longer ignorable – The game is floundering, partly in spite of – or possibly due to - Jagex's best intentions to give us as much content as possible, instead of focusing on realistic, achievable goals.

Now, anyone who knows me on the Official Forums will know that I am kind of infamous for being very vocal against microtransaction stuff (Don't click off. This isn't what this is about). This rather touchy subject had worn me down quite a bit, making me eventually feel very cynical and apathetic about the game, eventually causing me to drift away, only logging in once or twice a week to get a few daily things done or check in with people.

Eventually, though, I made a snap decision which caused me to play the game a whole lot more. Skip to about a month ago, and this increased play-time had paid off - I got my Max Cape. I also completed Sliske's Endgame – I used the lamps from that to utterly skip Magic 98-99.

I had wanted to do this to get closure on Runescape. It had devolved from a game I had loved to play, to a game that I only felt I had to... To a game that I felt I had to expunge from my consciousness in order to know peace. Every time I looked at my skills, I knew that Completion Principle would not let me go until I had finished what I had started. I wanted to finish the Sliske Questline and get Maxed, and be done with it all.

However...As I pushed on with the quests, I felt the old embers of love for the game spark back into a flame. The story I had grown up with, the feeling of progress, it all felt right again. And for just a week or so, I felt like there was hope for the game once more. Sure, there was a lot of patchiness with the updates recently, but it was going to get better, right?

...Nope. Menaphos happened, and it made me finally snap awake.

Something I had predicted from the very first day of expansions being announced had shown itself to be very, very true. Allow me to quote myself from back then.

“I'm looking at these expansions, and I'm worried. I'm going to straight up say this: When expansions come, the game is either going to fly, or going to die. There will be no middle ground.

Jagex is suggesting that they can do a normal weekly game update at the same time of doing a huge expansion-style update every three months. No. In their current situation, there is NO way they can do this. That is an unpaid increase in workload that is utterly untenable – Something has to give.”

And give, it did.

Let's not kid ourselves here. Almost all of the updates, from March onwards, have been shoddy, buggy, broken or otherwise substandard. Let's quickly run through them...

March 6th – Lumbridge Crater rework and wardrobe change. Simple graphical update, UI change which had mixed reception.

March 13th – Ninja Updates – Several good QOL updates.

March 20th – Agents of Fury, Runespan reward rework and Arc changes. Another Currency Event, and the cynic in me sees the releasing of the Runecrafter Robes via Runespan as an effective admission that they've given up on Great Orb Project entirely.

March 27th – Luck Rework – An incredibly confusing, ill-explained, convoluted and broken mess of a system that could have been done so, so much better.

April 3rd – Gemstone Dragons. Due to their huge cost for entry, difficulty, lack of justifiably good drops and the bizarre decisions around their slayer level, these were effectively dead on arrival due to bad planning.

April 10th – Easter Quest – This was the point I really began to notice the damage. The quest was as basic as it could possibly get, with no new graphics, no new areas or music, and effectively all done through text boxes and bare-bone fetchquests. The event looked like a project that had to be done for Monday morning but was only started on Sunday night, and just stunk of laziness and cost-cutting. Needless to say, the “They're working on Menaphos!!!1” people were out in full force this time. I'll get back to that later.

April 18th – The new Achievement system. A rework of a system nobody needed reworking, turning it into a broken, rickety, barely-functioning pile of warped coding that caused far more problems than it solved. This was a mess, pure and simple.

April 24th – The Spring Fayre - When I was complaining about the Easter event, I was usually shot down and told that this would be the actual Easter event. Interestingly, those people got very, VERY quiet when we saw what this actually was. Without wanting to go too far into detail, this was a carnival of MTX greed the likes of which we had never seen, with a massive air of open contempt wafting over the whole thing, due to unfairly balanced reward systems heavily weighted towards spending money. This was eventually improved somewhat, but the initial damage was just...staggering.

May 2nd – Shattered Worlds - This was an update I had been waiting for for years, and initially, it looked like this was something that made up for a lot of the pain the players had endured...But it soon became apparent that this was a terribly-balanced mess which is still very much not worth playing. Disillusionment set in very high for me here.

May 8th – Gilenorian Giving – Charity or no, this was still a Currency Event.

May 15th – Skyboxes. A lightweight update that effectively boiled down to giving us admin commands for changing skyboxes, but it was still pretty nice.

May 22nd – Patch notes, followed by a week of no update, presumably to polish Menaphos.

So all in all, we saw a massive downswing in the quality of updates, ranging from average at best to unusable or contemptuous at worst. But every single time anyone tried to complain, an echoing cry would be heard all through the forums and on Reddit.

“They're working on Menaphos! They have to direct resources from other areas to get Menaphos done! Menaphos will make this all worth it!”

Uh huh...Right. Here's the thing. Jagex has worked on big projects before. Prifddinas. Summoning. Dimension of Disaster. Mzcab. All of these are far bigger projects than this. But none of those crippled the quality of their weekly releases like Menaphos did. None of them ever needed to siphon resources like Menaphos apparently did. They allowed themselves the time to make big, intricate updates, while going along with smaller, more manageable projects. They didn't try to work on multiple big things at once. For instance, I get the feeling that if they shelved Shattered Worlds and the Achievement rework and done some smaller, more feasible updates, they would have been more able to work on Menaphos, to bring it up to a decent standard. But no - They tried to do a bunch of big projects at once, and, well, we can see the results.

Now, admittedly, the resource-siphoning may have been necessary this time...But even if it is, it's entirely Jagex's fault. They are the ones who put this demand upon themselves. If they couldn't hack it, they shouldn't have made that promise. Nobody was asking them to stretch themselves as thin as they did (Hell, the whole reason the poll went the way it did was because we wanted bigger, more polished, less rushed updates). But they did, and as a result the game suffered, and the players suffered. Call me a jerk if you want, but I feel that even if Menaphos was good, we shouldn't just brush all that under the carpet.

But in the end, we manage to get into Menaphos, and after all the bluster and hype, after all the poor updates justified by its very existence, what do we get?

A rainbow reflected in a puddle. Wonderful to look at, but when you get close and actually step inside, you find it's as shallow as it gets.

Menaphos has, when you get down to it, maybe about the same amount of utility as Falador. MAYBE Ardougne if you want to be generous. The only particularly interesting / noteworthy things added with the update – The Slayer Dungeon and Slayer Pyramid - aren't even in Menaphos themselves. Other than that, it's more than a little basic, and other than the appearances, doesn't really do much to actually set itself apart from other cities.

Well, I'm being unfair – I should have said “The only particularly interesting/noteworthy long-term pieces of content”. Because there IS interesting short-term, one-time-only content - four new quests!

…

...Yep, I'm bringing it up. The rep grind. For the uninitiated, in order to actually access the quests there, you need to do an arbitrary reputation grind. The only way to do this is by skilling on the below-average skill plots there. For hours. Some estimates put it at somewhere between 30-50 hours. I know this has been improved with the various patches...But let's face it, if someone's forcing you to eat a turd, but out of the “kindness of their heart” they cut some of it off and dispose of it, you're still having to eat it, you just need to eat less. A vast majority of people don't want to in the first place.

Because most of us can see what this boils down to. The needless rep-grind, the fact there's a passive EXP buff there, and the darkly hilarious Currency Event they have put in there as of this week...To me, it points to two things, clear as day.

Padding, and Desperation.

Rather than making the city somewhere we want to be, with interesting, engaging activities and sights, we are effectively being forced to be there in order to “enjoy” the city, to endure subpar exp, and to engage in constant, tedious grind in order to get to do the quests. No other city has had this treatment - New / Overhauled cities were allowed to just exist, and prove their own worth. All that will be achieved by forcing people to stay in a city when they could be doing other things, is simply breed enormous amounts of contempt.

Because look, you can argue that you are “Forced” to get levels in skills you don't want to for quests sometimes. You can argue you're “Forced” to get combat levels up to get to certain places. Yes, you are. But you can go about it in any way you want. You can go to all sorts of different locations to train skills. You have lots of options on how to train most of them. But with Menaphos, you ARE forced to do things as they want you to. Unless you want to go completely insane by doing bankstanding skills and getting tiny bits of rep, you are effectively stuck looking at a tree you're continually cutting until the game finally says you can do what you want, because they don't want you finishing the content you want and then moving on. To me, this whole combination of things totals up to one thing.

“Spend as much time as you possibly can in the new city. Justify the time it took us, the developers, to design. It doesn't matter how much you're enjoying it, just so long as it looks populated so we can say it's a job well done.

Because you're going to skill in Menaphos and appreciate every last crack in the pavement we textured, dammit.”

And I look at all of this, this sun bleached, shining city of cardboard, and think to myself - “This is going to keep happening. Weak, shallow expansions backed up by shoddy weekly updates. This is not going to get better. They're committed to this business model now, and backing out will damage them even worse. This is how things are now.”

I'm done.

I can't keep this up any more. If this is the normal standard of the updates now, I cannot justify paying for this any longer.

I have enough money for a few bonds. Perhaps several years in the future, I may check back in to see what's going on in the game, assuming the game is still running, and is still recognizable. Because I hate being a cynic, but...The way that this is going, if the quality of updates continues along these lines, and the depravity of the investors continues to balloon like it has been...I don't know how much longer RS will last.

…

I want to finish this ramble fest on a more positive note.

Runescape has changed my life for the better. I could honestly argue it's saved my life. I still remember back when my friends in school were talking about Shilo Village like it was the promised land. I fondly recall my first ever month when I was a Member – I distinctly remember exploring the Gnome Stronghold, getting a full set of the light blue robes and being surprised by the impressive-at-the-time Magic Trees. Hell, I even feel a slight twinge of twisted, bitter-sweet mirth at the fact that I got hacked very early on in my RS lifetime, and deemed too worthless to even get my password changed. (My only indication I'd been hacked was that I was in Falador without my 11k GP on my next login.)

It was a game that I took solace in. I live in a rather remote area of England – As I graduated, the amount of friends I had evaporated – all moving away from this place, looking for better places to go. I was very soon left with nobody but the people I met online. I am proud to admit that one of the best friends I have ever made, I know from Runescape. It's kind of staggering that if I hadn't been making Body Tiaras at the time I was, I would never have got to know him. Runescape was the rock upon which I managed to cling to, to help me keep my life in order, when everything else seemed to not make any sense.

This is honestly a reason why I get so utterly agitated about all that is going wrong with the game lately. It feels...almost disrespectful, the way that the game is just being defiled, broken and twisted the way it is now. Like watching some community club building from your childhood become ruined and dilapidated.

So...That's why I'm opting to quit now, as opposed to waiting for my membership to run out. I want to leave while I still have some respect for the game, and before the memories I have of the game become permanently tainted.

If there is indeed anyone that's still reading...Thank you for that. I know that this is just me letting out one final yell before I turn my back on this, but...I just wanted to speak from the heart for a while, about the game that I used to love – and on some level, still do. I understand if you feel my reasoning is flawed, and I don't mind if you want to tear me down about it. I know this could probably be an unpopular opinion.

I'll probably still lurk on Reddit and the forums here and there, but nowhere near as much as I used to.

To all the people who have better tolerance and restraint than I do, I hope Runescape improves for you once more. I hope with everything I have that the next expansion actually does live up to expectations this time. You deserve better than what you're getting.